Siren

This pitiful man you’re seeing will, in a few minutes, die. And he will perish with heart-shaped pupils as he gazes upon the avatar of beauty itself. It sings a wondrous melody to caress his heart and grab his loins. He reached out his hands to the fair maiden’s feathers as she leers at him with her hazel attraction. The ragged nautical stranger walked towards the creature digging her talons deep on to the sailor’s wreckage scattered over the unpigmented sand of the shore.

The man has lost the ability to hear; thus he does not adore the aria sung in such perfection by the dreamy agent of carnage. Since his arrival, the man’s sight has left his eyes; thus he cannot appreciate the marvel that is the irresistible aphrodisiac hidden beneath the outline of the soprano’s faultless beauty. The song has tangled him; each note binds his body as if the snake of Genesis has reappeared to taunt the Almighty Architect’s creation once more into biting the forbidden fruit of principal sin. However, this time, the Eden is not here for him to lavish, only an empty peninsula, five miles wide, filled with elements even Hades dare not touch. No god bats an eye on him for Olympus has rebuked him when he saw the creature’s feather drops from above, sealing his fate.

The Siren has entrapped him, now he is nothing but livestock for the dwellers of the sky. How pitiful, that he is in a state of unimaginable trance; he cannot even notice the gawking young sparrow-like humanoids waiting equipped with a predator‘s patience, soaring until their mother captures their dinner. It’s been months since they last ate, and they are beyond impoverished.

The sailor wraps his hands, imitating a vine, tangling his limbs over the Siren’s body. He grabs on to its wings and sniffing her skin, smelling a hint of ambrosia scent on her, captivating the foolish sailor’s hardening manhood. Her grin widens, her gaze projecting the burning in her stomach, her face beet red, and her thumping a war drum’s hymn in her innards. The Siren caressed the man’s chest: so lean, so chiseled, and so palatable. She pushed him towards the mast, both feeling the rough fabric hitting their bodies; the man filling his darkened and hazy mind with visions of Aphrodite’s feminine damp cavern, while the creature speaks gratitude to Demeter…

Gratitude for yet another bountiful harvest.

The three Siren girls dig their claws through the man’s physique, ripping his skin; refashioning their beautiful chocolate-colored feather, mimicking the pigment of dusk. The lady friends lick the seaman, draining every bit of blood in him and devouring his flesh as he offered himself to his captors.

“I love you.” Whispered the matelot, joy, and agony filled his last breath while the woman of his dreams slurps his eye socket.