I’m sorry it’s been so long. Everyday I’ve been staring at my computer, wanting to tell someone about what I saw, but unable to do so. At night I dream of Ningyo and wake up in a cold sweat. And every time I wake up, I feel closer to her, like she is pulling me towards her little by little. As you can imagine, I haven’t really been able to do anything but think of that day, of what happened to Kaito. Except when I think about it, it feels like all of it happened to me instead.
…
We walked into the lab, and it was clear right away that Kaito had been working around the clock. His usually immaculate appearance had moved aside to reveal dishevelled hair, unshaved beard and dark eyebags that accentuated the mad look in his eyes.
“She’s amazing. I look at her and I see true beauty, something ancient, unchanged by the times and life aboveground,” Kaito said and beckoned us to come closer. We obeyed, although a bit taken aback by the uncharacteristic passion in his voice. Kaito was standing in front of a computer placed just a few meters from the tank, which was dark, and the creature nowhere to be seen.
“I turned the lights off,” Kaito said, noticing us staring into the darkness. “I think it relaxes her.”
It sure as hell didn’t relax me, but I kept my mouth shut. Kaito was frantically typing something into the computer.
“There are speakers inside the tank. Ningyo responds to sound waves, the higher the frequency the better.” He pressed a button and took a few steps back. There was movement in the tank, a faint glow that seemed to be getting closer. Then the teeth, then a pair of eyes and finally I could see the whole head. I realized the glow was emitting from a small light dangling above its eyes.
“It has an esca,” I said to Kaito. “I didn’t see that before.”
“It’s retractable,” he answered. “It only comes out when she wants to use it.”
“Wonder why she feels the need to use it right now,” Natalie muttered to herself. Kaito just smiled without lifting his eyes from the screen. His obvious comfort around the thing was a bleak contrast to our tense selves, but I guess you can get used to about everything,
“I’m sending out a series of sounds through the speaker, and she’s responding,” Kaito said. “Come look at this.”
On the computer there was a graph, I figured it showed the frequency of the sound Ningyo was emitting. It looked weirdly clean, the rises and falls symmetrical, and pulses of sound neatly grouped together.
“She’s emitting sounds that range from about 100 kilohertz to 100 megahertz. They are inaudible to the human ear, but thankfully we have computers for that,” Kaito said, clearly excited. “Look at the number of the pulses. Does that remind you of anything?”
“It’s the Fibonacci sequence, isn’t it?” Dan asked.
Kaito looked pleased. “Yes! It varies how long it goes on before starting over, but the formula is always the same,” he said, eyes glowing. “At first two single pulses with a break in between, then two in a cluster, then three and so on. You know how it goes.”
We were all staring at the computer in awe. To find something so commonly found in nature in a being that seemed so unnatural should have been comforting, but somehow it disturbed me even more. This meant that it wasn’t just a mistake, something twisted born in the dark waters. No, it was a product of evolution, just like you and me. I shuddered at the thought of what else might have developed down there.
John broke the silence with a question that was in all our minds.
“What does it eat?”
“Honestly, it’s more of a question of what she doesn’t eat,” Kaito said. “A being this big, she can’t really be picky if she wishes to survive in a place where there’s so little to survive on. Ningyo is omnivorous, my guess is probably cannibalistic too.”
“So, there’s more of them,” Natalie said. It was more of a statement than a question.
“I think so,” Kaito said smiling. “In fact, I’m almost positive there are. But the most interesting part isn’t what she eats, it’s how she does it. I’ll show you.”
He typed something into his computer again, and a hatch opened at the side of the tank, releasing a herd of fish. They swam in various directions, lost and trying to make sense of their surroundings. Ningyo was staring at them hungrily, and I was waiting for it to pounce any second.
“Why isn’t it attacking?” I asked Kaito.
“She’s an ambush predator, sort of,” he responded.
Dan scoffed. “An ambush predator? It’s the size of a fucking building.”
“Just wait.”
Ningyo was still staring at the fish in front of it, but then I realized that the fish were staring back. They weren’t fleeing anymore, not even moving. They floated completely still, in a wedge-like formation that did not look natural. Then Ningyo opened its jaws, and the fish just started to swim into the huge mouth waiting in front of them, calmly, without ever breaking from the group. They just allowed themselves to be devoured.
“Do the fish really not see it,” Dan asked, eyes wide.
“They do,” Kaito said happily. “They are going willingly.”
“What the hell do you mean willingly?” Natalie asked.
“I think the voices Ningyo emits somehow change their behaviour,” Kaito said. “That’s how she hunts.”
“You’re telling us this thing is telekinetic now?” I asked in disbelief
Kaito laughed. “If you want to put it like that, then yes.”
“Why is it here, Kaito?” Natalie asked without taking her eyes off of Ningyo.
Kaito smiled at us. “The more I spend time with her, the more I understand myself. I was blind before, driven by pride, money, and insignificant pleasures. I thought I could bend the world to my will, and this was just a small part of it.” Kaito was staring at the distance, it seemed like he was talking to himself more than to us. “Have you heard of the legend that consuming the flesh of a mermaid, Ningyo, gives you eternal youth?”
We hadn’t.
“I used to believe in it, that was the main reason I started looking for her. And don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t completely mistaken, just a little blind to the truth. It’s not the act of consuming Ningyo’s flesh that gives you these powers, in fact that doesn’t even work,” He paused and smiled at us. “The important part isn’t eating her; it’s becoming one with her. A part of something greater. Do you understand what I mean?”
We didn’t, and we were honestly a bit scared of Kaito. His eyes looked different, not just because of the lack of sleep, but there was something empty in then. The way Kaito was looking at the tank seemed awfully similar to the way the fish were staring at Ningyo just moments ago. He seemed lost in thought, and suddenly he just started walking towards a door on the other side of the room. We called for him, asked where he was going, but he didn’t answer.
“There’s something wrong with him,” Natalie said, sounding worried.
“Should we follow him?” I asked.
Before we could come to a decision, there was movement in the tank. The hatch on the side of the tank opened again, but instead of fish it was Kaito that pushed himself through the small hole and into the water. He stopped moving, just floated there, the pressure pushing on him, twisting his face and limbs in a way that was hard to watch, yet it was impossible to look away. We stared in panicked awe as Ningyo started approaching. It moved slowly, almost like it was just floating towards Kaito, never breaking eye contact. It stopped in front of him, and just as before, opened its mouth. Kaito started to swim towards it. With his last strength, he treaded the water in a desperate attempt to move forward, finally reaching the mouth waiting in front of him. Kaito reached for one of the enormous teeth and dragged himself inside. After what felt like an eternity but was probably just a few seconds, Ningyo closed its mouth, and Kaito disappeared from view. Blood stained the water red.
…
I still see those blood-red waters whenever I close my eyes. After Ningyo ate Kaito we just stood there silent, without looking each other, without courage to neither approach the tank nor leave. I’ve been trying to tell myself I was imagining it, but after eating Kaito, there was something different about Ningyo. Something in her eyes had changed. There was something more intelligent, more human in the way she looked at us. Something akin to the intense passion I saw in Kaito just minutes ago. Finally, we left, but still didn’t speak of what we saw, still haven’t. All of this has been consuming my thoughts for the last month, and I see no other way out of this: I think I have to go back there. But before that, I need all of you to know there’s something else down there, something that can only be described as other. It’s strange and it’s beautiful and it’s terrifying. It’s an inevitable product of evolution in a world that likes to think we are where all evolution leads and stops.