The first thing I did when I woke up, before even realizing I was breathing, was throw off the sheet and bolt toward the basement. But before I could take the stairs, I heard Vicky shouting my name.
"Kash! Kash, get down here!"
My heart spiked. I didn't even stop to grab my shoes. I sprinted toward the sound of his voice, finding him planted in the open doorway, frozen like he'd just seen a ghost.
He didn't turn when I skidded to a stop behind him. He just kept staring.
"He's… he's awake," Vicky breathed, his voice shaking just enough to make my pulse quicken. I shoved past him, gripping the doorframe to steady myself.
And there he was.
Alive.
Moving.
The creature was swimming in slow, fluid circles inside the tank. His body undulated with terrifying grace, muscles rippling just beneath the skin, every motion controlled and deliberate.
And when he saw me he stopped.
He swam closer to the glass wall. His hand lifted, palm pressed flat against it.
And then… his eyes. They locked onto mine with a sharp, impossible awareness, not wild, not animalistic, but focused.
Curious. Dangerously aware.
Those eyes…deep green, like seaweed swirling beneath sunlight. Dark specks swam in the center, as if the ocean itself lived in his gaze.
I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. I couldn't believe I found him. A creature from lores. It was surreal, like I was till dreaming.
And his gaze, it was wasn't simply sizing me up, it held emotions, intelligent emotions. It was pretty clear this wasn't some mindless sea creature. This was something more.
This was here. Right under us.
Existing… thinking… aware.
I took a step closer, and stood right in front of the glass, my breath fogging the glass.
And he moved back. A flick of his tail, a subtle shift in his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing like he was swallowing something unspoken.
His eyes flicked toward Vicky, narrowing with something colder… darker. His brows drew together, the slight scowl darkened his beautiful face, like he wasn't happy.
With a powerful flick of his tail, he swam away, curling toward the opposite end of the tank.
I stood there, transfixed.
"This is unbelievable," Vicky muttered beside me, suddenly too close again. "He's… tame. The last one we caught, she was wild, snapping like she wanted to tear us apart."
I didn't even blink. My eyes were still on the merman, memorizing every detail.
"Maybe it's because she was female," Vicky continued, like he was giving a lecture no one asked for. "You know, in the animal kingdom, females are always the more vicious ones. Not like… you know, humans."
"What are we going to call him?" Vicky asked suddenly.
I didn't answer right away. I could feel the creature's eyes on me again, burning through the glass. A steady, unnerving stare. But he was weary of Vicky.
"I don't know," I muttered eventually, shrugging, trying not to show how rattled I felt. But I felt it.
"What about Noodles?" Vicky quipped a second later, completely missing the weight in the room.
"What?" I blinked, yanked back from my thoughts.
"His name," Vicky clarified, like I was slow. "We could call him Noodles."
I turned to him, deadpan. "Noodles? Why?"
"Because I like noodles." Vicky smirked, shrugging like it made all the sense in the world.
I stared at him for a long, deadpan moment. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."
And it was.
He wasn't some sideshow attraction, some nameless pet in a tank. He belonged on the cover of GQ, or in some high-budget campaign that made people stop in their tracks. There was something about the sheer masculinity of him, something raw, something perfectly built to be admired.
If he were human, I knew without a doubt he'd leave a trail of broken hearts, men, women, anyone with eyes.
But here he was, coiled at the far end of the tank, as far away from us as he could get.
"We'll call him Delmar," I said softly, almost to myself.
"That sounds like a human name," Vicky scoffed.
"So?" I shot back, not in the mood for his bullshit.
Sometimes I wondered how Dad had tolerated him for so long. My father, who cried at the smallest thing, soap operas, for God's sake. Who cared about everything too much.
And here was Vicky…making jokes like none of this mattered.
"Fine! As if it matters anyway," Vicky muttered, rolling his eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. "I'm gonna grab breakfast. We'll take shifts keeping an eye on him. No way in hell we're risking another escape."
I hated that he had a point. Even if I hated the idea of keeping Delmar locked up like this…we couldn't afford to let him get away. Not yet.
Not until we had proof.
Not until the world knew my father hadn't been insane. Not until my mother saw the truth.
"Be quick," I called after Vicky, already dragging one of the old wooden chairs toward the tank.
The second he was gone, I sank into the seat, my pulse thrumming in my ears.
Delmar started to move again, circling, his massive body rippling through the water like liquid muscle.
Every motion felt deliberate, like he knew I was watching. His back flexed as he swam, muscles tightening and releasing beneath that flawless skin. A living sculpture.
I tried not to stare but failed miserably.
And then he stopped.
His body stilled, hovering just beneath the surface as he glided toward the glass.
Closer. Closer.
Until his face was right there, just inches from mine. His eyes burned into me,
green, piercing, all-consuming. He tilted his head slightly, narrowing his gaze as if studying every inch of me, slowly, deliberately.
My breath hitched.
His eyes flicked downward…lingering, longer than I was prepared for, on my body. Not lewd, not mocking. Just… looking.
He dragged his gaze up again, tracing the curve of my shoulders, my throat, my face,
settling on my mouth for a fraction too long.
My heart hammered so hard I had to grip the sides of the chair just to keep from shifting. His stare felt physical, like fingertips brushing over bare skin.
I was still trying to make sense of my sexuality and being attracted to a male of another species would only complicate things.
I swallowed thickly, dragging my tongue across my dry lips, and I swear, I saw something shift in his expression. A slight frown, eyes zoning on the small move. Like he was just as confused by his curiosity towards me as I was towards him.
And then he was gone again, pushing off the glass with a flick of his tail, swirling around the tank like he was showing off.
I let out a shaky breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, sinking deeper into the chair, pulse still racing.
Could he speak? The thought lodged itself in my throat.
What would he say if I told him he was beautiful? That he looked like sin carved into flesh?
Something told me he already knew.
The way he moved, the way he watched me, like he was perfectly aware of every reaction he was pulling from me.
I glanced toward the stairs. Still no sign of Vicky.
Good. Delmar didn't like him.
Slowly, I stood, heart pounding loud enough I was sure he could hear it through the glass. I took a step forward… then another… and another.
And he moved too, matching my pace, like we were tethered by some invisible line.
We stopped, face to face, separated by nothing but thick glass and a lifetime of unanswered questions.
I lifted my hand, hesitant at first, then pressing my palm to the cool surface. For a split second, I felt stupid, childish even.
But then…He lifted his hand too, pressing his palm against mine from the other side.
I flinched slightly at the strange intimacy of it. My breath hitched, chest tightening as a shiver danced down my spine. The heat of his gaze wrapped around me like it had weight, real weight. He tilted his head, those endless green eyes dipping down, to my lips.
I realized then that I'd been biting my lower lip, nervous.
I tried to swallow, tried to find my voice, but my throat felt tight, like every word got trapped before it could form.
My fingertips trembled against the glass.
"DON'T!"
I jerked away, heart lurching, as Vicky's voice sliced through the moment like a blade.
He stormed down the stairs, heavy boots echoing on the concrete.
"Don't go near him!" he snapped, his tone sharp enough to make me step back on instinct.
And then I saw it. The rifle.
"Where the hell did you get a gun?" I choked out, my stomach flipping.
"First of all, it's not a gun," Vicky sneered, holding it up like it was a toy. "It's a dart shooter. Came with the supply shipment. You know… in case we need to control him."
Control. The word made my skin crawl.
He dropped into the wooden chair, settling in like a king taking his throne.
"You can go now. It's my turn."
I didn't move for a second, frozen by the sight of that weapon resting casually across his lap.
Dart gun or not, I didn't like this. Not one bit.
But I left anyway. I needed to clear my head.