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Marat stood, considering the dock ahead. It was barely visible among the shadows of the trees, hidden from the moon. Only slight, gentle splashes of water and cicadas made any noise here. This was the fire before the moth. And he was going in.
He took a deep breath and then steadied it, bracing himself.
Val pleaded and begged Amir as he dragged her past the houses and through the trees.
He never responded. This was not the same person she felt her heart shatter into thousands of pieces over.
Before he started for the trees, she knew. There was a look - the graying of the skin, the slight slimness of the face that had revealed the hollowness above his cheekbones. She spent many months studying it, taking in every detail of every tender moment. This was not the same Amir.
As they neared the valley of trees leading to the dock, the images of that nightmarish night forced themselves into her mind: the creature, Marat, those horrible teeth emerging from her monstrous jaws—the unsettling smoothness of her skin reflecting the moonlight.
She squeezed her eyes shut the second she heard sounds ahead. She did not want to know, even if she already did.
No.
Not after months of looking after him in the night.
Not after months of being so proud every morning that she’d woken up to see him still there. She did not know why tonight, why after so long.
Her foot caught on something, and she stumbled, but Amir held her up, pressing ahead. She felt the earth beneath her feet soften as they neared the water. The smell of lake grasses filled the air.
“Amir, please…” she begged one last time.
“What a delight, my love, that you would bring a spectator to our lover’s rendezvous. A gift, on this night, that honors my mother with the tongues of fire and anointing of flowers and wine.” The Rusalka purred.
Amir forced Val to her knees, just as the Hag had done once.
Val could not help but open her eyes, and what she saw mere feet away had filled her veins with ice - she wished she had not opened them at all.
Marat was facing her on his knees. His look was strained, his jaw clenched, and his chin pulled upward as the creature held him by the back of his hair.
She was behind him. Her thin arms wrapped around his chest, tightly pressed against him; one could almost mistake it for a lover’s embrace. Her fingers were long and webbed, and her nails sharp and translucent.
The water maiden rested her face on his shoulder, her cheek against his, her eyes on Val.
Gods… her eyes. Large, milky, without a pupil - the irises were the color of moss - uselessly floating on a gray-blue membrane. Irregular red veins ran through them and down below. Without eyelids or eyelashes, they stared ahead like a dead fish at the market.
Below the smooth translucent layer of her skin lay fine scales with blue and red veins running throughout. Her distorted, short nose with high nostrils sat just above her horrible mouth. Hanging open, the little sharp teeth protruded from it grotesquely –one could almost mistake it for smiling.
Her hair, the only human thing that she could see, hung down to the ground. Sopping wet, it clumped together and matted at her shoulders and back. Dirty and littered with bits of plants, it covered up her naked body.
The thought of anyone, much less Marat, touching this creature brought bile to Val’s throat. She could not help but remember the tenderness with which he’d handled this… thing.
“Avert your eyes, my love. I do not wish for you to see my shame - for you, I will carry out this offense, but it is not for your eyes today.” the water maiden ordered Amir.
With slight hesitation, he let go of Val. He stood in place as if reconsidering but turned to walk away.
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“Return tomorrow night, my love. And not a minute before. There is but mere hours in this night still - and I would have you all to myself come tomorrow.” This time, much sweeter, the Rusalka had waved him off. Amir did not protest. He turned and walked, not looking back.
She waited until his footsteps grew silent and he was out of sight, then turned back to Val.
“Oh my, but what a sight to see again, my love. Have you not had your fill yet of our entanglement of passion? What a twisted bottom-feeder you are - but who am I not to sate your curiosities!” With saying that, the edges of her maw stretched and flexed, expanding and sinking into the flesh of where his shoulder met his neck. The gruesome sound of them breaking the skin was followed only by the creature inhaling deeply. She’d bitten down, but she was not taking a bite at all.
Disgusted and desperate to help but unable to move a muscle - Val saw the skin inches away from the penetration bulge as if something long and thin had been inserted under it. And then another ran through his chest and toward his heart.
Marat’s face went pale, losing expression and fading to indifference. The veins in his face and neck had bulged out. Those under the translucent skin of the Rusalka did the same.
With horror, Val saw one of them run through the Rusalka’s mouth and under his skin, pulsing with his heartbeat.
As if one, they twisted and merged until she let go, pulling them back.
“You see, my love, you will never be as we are. We share the blood that flows through him and I, mine in his - his in mine. For moments in time, in ecstasy, we are one. Does that make you heartbroken, my love?” She parted her mouth again in a smile.
Val still did not answer.
Marat slumped forward, only the creature’s arms holding him up. His eyes met Val’s. He tried to speak but wheezed and coughed before he could. He was struggling against losing consciousness.
“Girl…” He finally managed to say, “...do you know what belladonna is…?”
She did not understand; was he delusional? Hallucinating?
But she recalled the plant, yes. She recalled that her father would use it for those who needed an excision of their organs. He would give it to them thirty minutes prior, and only very little would render them unconscious…
“Why don’t you tell her…” he coughed out, his head rolling on his neck and slumping down. As the words exited his mouth, the creature dropped him, yanking back.
“He poisoned it! He poisoned me!” She dropped on all fours, pushing him with considerable force, then turning to Val.
“Gutless leech!” She screeched, “Foul mudworm!”
The Rusalka let out a blood-curdling shriek and lunged for Val, knocking her off her knees. Val struggled against her, unable to get a grip as her slimy, sticky skin slid over hers. The only thing she could grip was the creature’s hair.
They rolled in the dirt, the monster scratching at Val. She sunk her teeth into Val’s forearm - biting down on it with all its might. A thousand needles penetrated Val’s skin - sending cold spasms through her hand and up to her shoulder.
Val screamed. She hit its head with her other arm, pulling at the hair and away from where it was biting down. She flung the thing to the side, the creature’s body surprisingly light.
To Val’s surprise, it landed on all fours and spasmed, its muscles shaking. It collapsed and did not get up.
Val scrambled to her feet, blood pouring down her arm. She caught her breath for a moment, watching for movement, and when there was none, she turned and ran to Marat.
He was breathing hard, still lying on the ground. But he was conscious and struggling to push himself up with his arms. She hurried to help him up, but his weight was too much, and he was still too feeble.
“Girl,” He said between grunts, “The oak, the chains, go–”
She dropped him and frantically looked around for the oak.
There was only one by the dock. She ran to it, and at its base was the chain she’d used to restrain him in the barn. Too heavy for her to fully lift, she dragged it to the creature.
“Step aside.” He limped, weak but determined, to where the creature lay.
He pulled the very ends tight, dragging the Rusalka after him to the oak. There, he slung one of the ends over a higher branch, catching it on the other side.
“Climb up, secure her hair where it will see the light.” He told Val, “I cannot.”
She nodded, grabbing at the bark and pulling herself upward.
She touched the soaking wet tresses and pulled back her hand. It was as if the hair itself was alive.
“Tie up her hair - up above you.” He repeated himself, sounding more irritated as if she did not understand the gravity of the situation they were in.
She grabbed the creature’s head, pulling at the hair. It took three tries, but she managed to fasten it up as high as she could. When she got back down, both collapsed on the ground.
They sat across the small clearing by the dock, the pale, smooth shape of the Rusalka suspended in the tree.
“I am lucky she took as much blood as she did.” He said after a long silence. “Had she not consumed my dose of the belladonna, I would already be dead.”
A slight stir made the chains ring. It perked up Val’s ears, and in a panic, she went to stand, but Marat stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
“No. It’s morning.”
And as he said, the first rays of light broke with the dawn of the shortest night of the year. Her muscles jerked violently as it fell on the Rusalka, although her head was still slumped forward. Within minutes, the clearing was filled with soft light.
As the sun rose and bathed the oak tree and its occupant, a bone-chilling shriek ripped through the air and across the lake. Val watched as the rays quickly dried out the slimy skin, forcing the grotesque eyes back into its skull. The last was the long hair, which burned away as if already ash.
Then, silence fell.
Marat stood and offered her his arm.
“It is done.”
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