BONUS STORY: Ligeia's Revenge

There is a very active horror community in Italy these days, and Alessandro Manzetti and his magazine Il Post Nero have been very supportive of my work over the past few months. They have a special section called the Queen Anne's Resurrection which features short fiction centered around an old pirate ship. In August 2011, Alessandro asked me if I'd contribute something for a September issue revolving around Sirens and Vampires. How could I resist a Siren story? I wrote the following short piece that gives a glimpse of the early history of Ligeia, the siren of Siren.

 

LIGEIA'S REVENGE ON THE QUEEN ANNE'S RESURRECTION

By John Everson

 

The sound sent a shiver to the very marrow of his bones. It was high-pitched as birdsong, yet something deeper lurked inside. A melody that yearned for response. Demanded a duet. It soared high and free and then trilled and swooped, lower and deeper until the earthy lust of its contralto made his knees grow weak, and that which hung between grow strong.

Donato walked to the edge of the ship's rail and stared out at the black ripples of the ocean.  The sky was cloaked in dirty clouds, but now and then the faint beam of the moon shone through, and he could just make out the rocks of an island in the distance.

He knew the sound came from there.  And he knew why.

Benito.

The First Mate slept below deck with the rest of the crew, but that afternoon, he had taken a small boat to the island. And when he came back, he'd bragged again and again of his (mis)handling of a mysterious lone woman they'd found there.

* * * * *

"Her name was Ligeia," Benito had crowed at dinner. "She was asleep in a cave near the ocean when we found her. Beautiful thing she was, too. Breasts like soft melons and hair so long and dark, you could wrap it around you for a  blanket.  I had Antonio get some rope and he tied her arms behind her head while I took care of her feet."

The burly man had laughed then, absently scratching the long twine of his rusty beard. His eyes glinted with humor and violence. "Antonio had no head for the business though, did ya boy?"

The younger crewman turned red. "I just didn't want it that way," he said softly.

"You a pansy, boy?" one of the others laughed. Someone punched Antonio in the shoulder. "You take 'em where ya find 'em, ya fool."

Benito laughed. "And that's exactly what I did.  Damned woman started singing in the middle of it all, so I put a sock in it; ripped off me own sock I did and stuffed it right into that big mouth of hers. Put me off the kissing, cuz my socks don't smell too good. But I don't need the kissing, not when I've got me the rest of a woman to work on. And I tell you, she was a good one to work on..."

* * * * *

Donato stared at the lonely rocks and heard the song begin again. The melody tugged at his heart, and he put a foot up on the deck rail. He could climb over and swim to the island and...

The slap of his own hand across his face stopped him. Donato slapped his face three more times, trying to shake loose from the spell of the song.

His stomach quaked. What had Benito awakened? He knew the stories of the wicked creatures that sang a man to death -- luring him to his watery grave.

Donato wouldn't have it.

He walked to the mast and pulled a cord of rope from the deck. He wrapped it around his ankle, tightening it before fashioning a noose to slip his hands through. He held the rope with his knees as he positioned his hands, and then let go; the slack pulled back up into the sail and pulled his arms up with it.

He didn't want to think about what the men would say when they found the night watchman tied up by his own hand, but he refused to follow the song into the water.

The song stopped.

And then it began again, but now it sounded... closer.

Donato closed his eyes and wished it away. But it was too close to ignore.

When he opened his eyes, she was there. Naked and dripping with seawater. Her eyes were black and deep as night. Her breasts were full and lush, just as Benito had described. Donato longed for just one taste...

She stared at him for a moment, sizing him up. And then, she sprinted away, down the stairs to the bunks.

"Wake up!" Donato called, but instead, the Siren's song drowned him out. She sang from the depths of the ship, low and sensual, and then high and sharp. One of the men screamed, but was almost instantly silent.

Donato shook his head and cried. He was supposed to protect them. He was the Watchman. But he didn't know. He hadn't thought she'd come aboard...

 

She returned to the deck a few minutes later, walking backwards slowly, and motioning with her arms. Languid, easy motions, as if she swam through the air.

Benito followed. Caught in a dream. Sleepwalking. He followed her song, and the sweet promise of her smile. She pulled him right into her arms at the edge of the deck, and her song stopped briefly, as they kissed. His arms wrapped around her, stroking her flanks and back as he kissed greedily. She returned the embrace, but her intent was less erotic.

She kissed him hungrily.

And presently, as Donato watched, she kissed his neck until it bled.

She painted the deck red with his life, and when he was dry, she picked up his body and tossed Benito over the side.

Ligeia paused just before following him into the sea.

Then she pulled her leg back over the side and walked slowly across the deck to Donato. She ran long, sensual fingers over the rope that bound his wrists, following it up to where it held him to the mast. She looked confused at first, and then smiled, faintly.

She touched his cheek with those fingers, and pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss.

"Not for you," Donato heard her say, though her lips never moved.

She leaned in and bit the rope that held his hands with her teeth. A moment later, his bonds snapped, and Donato fell forward. He couldn't feel his arms at all, and he sank as low as he could against the mast, his feet still bound in place, pins and needles beginning in his arms as the blood flow returned.

Ligeia ran a hand through his hair before walking to the edge of the ship. Donato watched the flesh of her ass shift as she walked, and even without the drug of her song, he was entranced.

As she lifted one leg over the side of the ship, Donato heard someone yell from below.

"Antonio?" the voice called. "What's happened? Oh god, Antonio no. Oh no!!"

Ligeia caught Donato's eye in the murky light of the moon. The black vengeance of her soul sparkled in her eyes for  that moment , and she grinned, showing a mouth full of sharp, dangerous teeth.

She sang one low, sonorous note that filled Donato's heart with sadness.

And then with a faint splash, she was gone.

 

 

Originally Published in the September 9, 2011 edition of Il Post Nero's Queen Anne's Resurrection.