Siren's Song

A Flash Fiction Story for Mermaid Day

I watch my prey in silence as she digs for shells, sunlight glinting off the silver circlet on her brow. She hasn’t spotted me; the large rocks along this part of shore offer the perfect concealment.

Two gulls screech overhead as if to warn her of my presence, but a glare from me sends them flapping back to their nest high in the cliffs. Taking a slow, deep breath to steady myself, I turn my eyes back to the girl.

She looks so much like her father. The dark hair, her merry smile. It was Dylan’s smile that made me feel that first hint of something ten years ago. He was aboard his vessel at sea, standing by the rail, arms outstretched and laughing toward the sky.

It was the first time in my life that watching a human hadn’t filled me with hunger or hatred.

I tried to discuss the matter with my sisters, but they wouldn’t hear a word. Land dwellers, they insisted, have been enemies of the sirens for hundreds of years. Catching us in nets. Torturing us for their amusement. Murdering us in our own waters with harpoons and tridents. The goal of mankind was to wipe us out, my sisters said. So we must show them no softness. No mercy. Especially a prince of men.

But I did.

When I saw Dylan tossed from his ship in that terrific storm, his form sinking fast in the churning sea… I couldn’t bear to watch him die. To see all the life that radiated from his innermost being slip away forever. I fought the fury of the waves as I never had before to drag Dylan back to shore. He coughed up ocean, then sank into a deep sleep. I collapsed exhausted by his side, relieved he was safe—confused I had risked my own survival for his.

When the skies cleared, Dylan still lay dreaming. I caressed his cheek and sang him a song. Not one of darkness and death, but a forbidden ballad of light. Longing. Love. As I watched his chest gently rise and fall, voices called in the distance, shouting his name. I dove back into the water, leaving Dylan to be found as I suddenly felt lost. It was in that moment resolve sprang up within me: I had to find a way to be with him.

I shrink down into the water as the girl takes sudden steps in my direction. She places her circlet on a rock to my right, draws fingers through her tousled hair, and happily resumes her search. I try to relax my shoulders. That was too close. But those seconds gave me a glimpse of the freckles scattered across her nose. Her bright green eyes.

Those are her mother’s.

It was a mere two weeks after the storm when I decided to exchange my voice—my greatest power—so that I could have a chance to be his. None of my sisters understood. They thought me mad and declared that if I chose life among the land dwellers, I would forever be their enemy. That I could never return.

That is what I chose. Black pearl magic from a sea enchantress allowed me to trade my voice for legs, giving me seven days to win Dylan’s heart.

It was a glorious, agonizing week. When Dylan discovered me alone on the shore, trembling in the wind and wrapped in tattered old sails, he brought me stumbling to his seaside mansion. Made sure all my needs were met. He wasn’t the least bit bothered I couldn’t speak, that I couldn’t tell him who I was or where I’d come from.

Dylan read to me. Taught me games. He even took me on a picnic near the cliffs. He confided that he’d always wanted a sister, all the while stealing my heart away piece by piece.

Then, when my time was almost gone, she came. His betrothed, with her auburn hair and emerald eyes. She sang beautifully, could dance and paint.

And despite all my aching wishes, Dylan loved her.

I disappeared back to the sea that final night without saying goodbye. My tail returned, but I remained mute and broken. I dared not go back to my sisters; I had nothing to plead, and no words with which to try. Sorrow and solitude became my closest companions, and over time, my mourning transformed into a thirst for revenge.

His wife died two years later. The weakling did not survive giving birth to their firstborn child.

And there is the child now, prancing about the shore. Just waiting for me to strike.

Clutching the rock before me so tightly my fingers burn, I glide around its side. The girl has her back toward me as she inspects some new discovery in the sand. I glance about quickly. No guards in sight.

This is my chance.

A sound suddenly sails to me on the breeze. A tune from her young lips—a secret melody of the sea.

The song I sang to her father.

A chill sweeps over me, and a strange pain fills my throat. Dylan did hear my voice the day that I saved him. Despite everything that happened—all my broken dreams—a part of me still dwells with him even now. Dwells in her.

And somehow…that is enough.

My final hunt for a human at its end, I drift silently beneath the water. For the first time in ages, I don’t feel quite so alone.

Copyright 2026 by H. L. Davis

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Thanks for reading “Siren’s Song”—it’s always an honor. If you’re searching for more mermaid tales for Mermaid Day (March 29), here are others I’ve either read or seen recommended by friends. (As always, be sure to research the content to see if it’s a good choice for you. 🩵)

Do you have any favorite mermaid books or stories? I’d love to hear about them!

Holly

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