You know, I really enjoy drawing this Billford fic. God, you can't imagine how much I love Bill from there
"The cold waters washed the lifeless body onto the rocky shore, littered with the skeletons of various fish, large and small. Small pebbles rolled over, covering the toes buried in the mud and the spread-out clothes. At first glance, it might have seemed that this was not a living creature at all, but just a pile of worn-out rags. Then, of course, it turned out to be otherwise. Despite all the owner's efforts to hide his entire body, from his facial features to the curves of his body, his long stay in the water had done its job. The waves had soaked the fabric, frayed it, and bleached it. They revealed the outline of a human being in the clothing. They revealed it to the clouds.
The rumble of thunder did not wake him, the waves did not disturb him. The island on which he found himself was an ordinary shoal in the middle of the endless ocean. A little more — literally a couple of days — and the last remnants of land would be flooded by the tide. The water would hide him and his lifeless body beneath it.
This ocean did not welcome him with open arms. It was an obstacle to his goal, an enemy through which the forces slowly filling his body on the shore struggled to squeeze. Mysterious traces crept out of the Arctic Ocean. It was fed by the anomalies themselves.
Then, a day later, the influx of strength increased. The man himself noticed this, stirring on his stomach and coughing up salt water. He turned sharply toward the approaching ocean, meeting the gaze of the Companions of the Sea Waters.
The sky did not reveal the sun's rays in these places. The wind howled. A few meters from the protruding legs, foamy waves stretched along the cliff. A little further above them stood female figures with gills on their chests and long, dark hair, strands of which fell into the water. The man squinted and looked closely at the fish tails with wide blades, which could knock any living creature unconscious with their sweep... and his breath caught in his throat.
These were not pretty mermaids chatting with sailors and disappearing at night, but their evil sisters, who were attracted to storms that sank light ships. The sirens stared at the bait. They watched, waiting for the tide to come in so they could get closer to the appetizing body. They were attracted by the smell of blood and the absence of decay, and now nothing, not even a revived dinner, could spoil their meal.
Thick saliva flowed from their torn lips, rolling down to their chins. With a slurping sound, the sirens licked their lips. Feral. Voracious.
But the man was not frightened by the sight of them, only wary, glancing back and forth between the three creatures. The singing he had expected still had not begun. Only his own insatiable hunger.
And he did not want to eat his own stomach again.
“Can you find me a suitable vessel nearby?” he asked cautiously, not recognizing his own voice. There was a glimmer of hope that the sirens, who ravaged ships and left them to drift aimlessly across the oceans, had followed some merchant vessel here and might be willing to share their spoils.
The man crawled closer to the water. Seeing his own legs dragging behind him on the ground, he frantically wrapped them in the gray hem of his robe. His cap had long since slipped from his head, and the shawl covering his face was lost somewhere on the shore.
Approaching the water was deadly dangerous: what if he saw himself in it, rather than a shapeless mass of debris? He did not want to provoke the merciless cruelty inside him. However, hunger... It forced him to move toward the only living creatures.
The mermaids crawled toward him, almost imitating him, scrambling with their clawed hands across the shallow bottom and approaching... To drive away other possible predators from their prey, the third of them remained circling the island.
The man reached the surf, freezing a couple of feet away from the creatures. He guessed that if he got too close, the tail would catch up with him as quickly as a wave.
The large fish landed at his feet and splashed frantically in the puddles of stones. In any other world, it would have been a deliberate insult, but in this situation, it was more like an act of gracious charity.
“Hungry, handsome?” asked the third siren in a sweet, melodious voice, rummaging through the sand with her fingers in search of food. The man on the shore growled helplessly, pulling the cloth around his neck tighter. Finally, unable to hold back his primal nature, he pounced on the scaly creature.
His fingers dug into the sharp scales, tearing them off and splitting the body into two equal parts. The fish immediately stopped resisting, going limp, and the man sank his teeth into it, tearing out its insides. His mouth was smeared with blood. There was a crunch of bones and cartilage, which, not completely ground up, sank into his stomach.
At the end of the meal, he scooped up some salt water with his bloody hands and drank it, hoping to wash away the remains of scales and bones in his throat. It didn't work. A new fish was already lying in front of him — ready to eat, but this time a little closer to the water... They beckoned him.
“I won't give in so easily...” he croaked and immediately began to cough — something was interfering with his vocal cords.
“We're not hungry,” replied the sisters, “We're here because of your face.”
And a crooked, convex nail dug into the man. He grimaced. Their voices sounded like the splashes of the sea itself, but higher.
“We are your Death, and we are very pleased to meet you,” they laughed piercingly, slapping their tails on the water and splashing the man on the shore. “Taking away your youth and beauty costs us nothing. Just a flick of the tail...”
“Your ugly faces won't save you, nor will your stock of painted beauties... And I know very well what I look like. I'm not right for you,” the man stood up and take a few steps.
He kicked the mermaids lying on the shore and threw the fish back into the water.
Staring at his reflection in the water, the man saw not himself, but an ugly ghoul. He knew he was seeing his own insides, but he didn't understand how people could see a pretty face in this frightening monster. With skin missing in some places, cheeks sagging like a Sharpei's, and eyes sunken into his skull, he looked like anything but a human being.
However, even the blood on his lips did not spoil the peaceful look in the sirens' eyes.
“So give us your face... Take it off... Give it to us...” the sea devils splashed.
“Let us teach you to see your own beauty...”
His lips tightened. Doubts captivated him, but he still stepped forward. Then he took another step. And another, and another, until he was waist-deep in water and the predators swirled around him like sharks.
They kept their word: they helped him see beauty. His face looked different on them. His face took on different contours, as if the haze of obsession had instantly dissipated. Even then, his snow-white, rotting skin showed signs of unique grace. Blood dripping from his bare muscles clouded the water. Holding one of the mermaids by the shoulders, William took one last look at his flesh, which fit the impostor's face like a glove, and let the sea swallow the body. He himself was faceless."
The island was replenished with three more skeletons, two of which had only the lower half of their bodies left — a mockery of their offerings. Laughing in the face of God.
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