The corpse lay #supine on the morgue table. Covered eyebrows to kneecaps by a white sheet. As she turned back from putting gloves on, it moved, sitting up.
She screamed, before recognising the face revealed by the sheet slipping.
“Gary, you asshole. Where’s Mr Brigman?”
“Come on #Lithe, you know you want to.” He pulled at her arm and she shrugged him off, turning to face him.
“For the last time,”She told him, deadly serious. “My name is Lisa.”
Her fin cut through the water as she swam beside the rest of her #chimera pod. The mermaids, more fish than woman, were on the prowl. Hunting as a group meant they could take down bigger and badder prey. Ahead, a great white loomed. With a shriek, they made their move.
I couldn’t shake him. Like a later of #flotsam choking the ocean, he was suffocating me. Turning up when I went out with friends. Standing opposite my apartment in the rain. He never spoke. Only watched. Silently judging.
He’d passed away three years ago.
I killed him.
The lure of #petrichor summoned him outside bare footed and bare chested. After a heavy storm the air was thick with it and he breathed in deep lungfuls. The heady aroma restored him, invigorated him, and he felt the aches and pains ebb from his body. He’d needed this.
He followed behind in the wake of his #sillage. A heady mixture of cologne and musk and something else he couldn’t quite place. Still, the guy had invited Andrew back to his place for some ‘fun’ and he hadn’t been able to resist those blue eyes and dimples. The abs helped, too.
She was wanted on a #myriad of charges. Each case matching one of the different faces she wore. Her ability meant that she never had to wear the same one twice. As long as she kept track, she’d never be caught.