THE MERMAN AND THE BLUE-EYED BOY
The following days passed slowly for Grey.
Life inside the glass tank had become strangely predictable. Every morning the boat rocked gently with the waves, the salty wind whistled above the deck, and the same voices of the fishermen echoed through the wooden boards.
And every day, without fail, Noah came to see him.
Grey still didn’t understand most of what the boy said, but he had learned one important thing: when Noah pointed to himself and said that soft word — Noah — it meant his name.
Grey had repeated it several times in his head.
But that didn’t mean Grey felt safe.
The young merman still spent most of his time curled in one corner of the tank, watching everything around him with cautious eyes. He still didn’t understand why he was here… or what the humans truly wanted from him.
Noah had been kind to him.
One afternoon, the calm rhythm of the boat was suddenly interrupted by loud noises from the deck above.
Something metallic hitting the floor.
Grey flinched, his tail twitching nervously in the water.
He slowly swam closer to the glass wall of the tank, curiosity battling with fear.
Through the open hatch above, he could see shadows moving quickly across the deck.
Grey hesitated… but eventually lifted himself slightly out of the water to see better.
And what he saw made his stomach twist.
The fishermen were gathered around a large wooden table.
On it lay several fish — large ones, small ones, some still twitching faintly.
One of the men grabbed a knife.
With one swift movement, he cut into the body of a fish.
Red spread across the table.
Another fisherman pulled the head off a different fish and tossed it carelessly into a bucket. Scales clung to the wet wood, and pieces of flesh slid across the surface.
The men laughed as they worked.
The sound made Grey’s heart pound.
The smell reached him next.
Grey slowly sank back into the tank, his breathing becoming shallow.
He didn’t understand everything about humans.
They killed creatures from the sea.
His eyes drifted down to his own tail.
The scales that shimmered faintly in the water.
I’m a creature of the sea too…
The thought crept into his mind like cold water.
What if that was why they had captured him?
What if he wasn’t a prisoner…
but simply the next catch?
His breathing became faster.
He curled into himself, wrapping his arms around his body as tightly as he could.
The noises from the deck continued.
More bodies thrown into buckets.
Grey squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to imagine what would happen when the fishermen finally decided it was his turn.
A while later, footsteps approached the hatch again.
Noah climbed down into the lower deck, brushing a strand of blond hair away from his face as he walked toward the tank.
“Hey, little guy,” he said gently.
For a brief moment, their eyes met.
At Noah’s waist hung a knife.
The same kind the fishermen had been using on the fish upstairs.
Something inside Grey broke.
He recoiled violently, slamming against the glass wall of the tank. Water splashed wildly as his tail thrashed in panic.
His breathing became sharp and frantic, his hands gripping the edges of the tank as if trying to climb out.
But Grey didn’t hear him.
All he could see were flashes of red water… knives… bodies on the table.
His heart pounded so hard it hurt.
His gills flared desperately, trying to pull in air and water at the same time. The injured tissue burned as he forced them open again and again.
His breathing became a choked gasp.
Grey clawed at his own chest as if something was crushing it from the inside.
“No— please—!” he cried, tears streaming down his face.
His tail slammed against the glass again.
“Hey! Hey!” Noah rushed closer, alarmed. “What’s happening?!”
His lungs felt like they were collapsing.
The pain in his gills grew sharper with every frantic breath.
He couldn’t stop shaking.
He couldn’t stop the images in his head.
The thought echoed over and over in his mind.
His body began to curl inward, trembling uncontrollably.
Grey’s gills suddenly spasmed, and he coughed violently. A thin line of blood slipped into the water around him.
He quickly unclipped the knife from his belt and tossed it onto a nearby crate.
His breathing was breaking apart into ragged gasps.
He pressed himself into the corner of the tank, shaking so badly his teeth were chattering.
Noah stepped closer to the glass, completely confused.
“Hey… hey, calm down… I’m not hurting you!”
Grey squeezed his eyes shut, covering his head with his arms as if expecting a blow.
The sight made Noah’s stomach drop.
Slowly, cautiously, Noah lowered himself to sit on the floor beside the tank.
Grey’s breathing remained frantic for several long moments before slowly, painfully beginning to slow.
But the fear in his eyes didn’t fade.
Noah ran a hand through his hair, completely lost.
“What happened to you…?” he whispered.
Grey didn’t understand the words.
But he could hear something in the boy’s voice.
And for the first time since the panic began, Grey opened his eyes again… and looked at him.
For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the gentle rocking of the boat.
And Grey’s shaky breathing.
His whole body still trembled as he remained curled in the corner of the tank, arms wrapped tightly around himself. Every now and then his tail twitched nervously, sending small ripples across the water.
Noah stayed where he was, sitting on the wooden floor beside the tank.
He didn’t reach into the water.
He simply watched the frightened creature, trying to understand what had just happened.
“Easy… easy…” he murmured quietly.
Grey’s gills still burned from the strain. Every breath made the injured tissue sting, and faint streaks of red still drifted in the water around him.
Noah noticed immediately.
His brow furrowed with worry.
“Oh no… you’re bleeding again…”
Grey lifted his head slightly.
His silver eyes met Noah’s blue ones.
For a moment neither of them moved.
His gaze drifted toward the crate across the room — where Noah had thrown the knife.
The object was far away now.
Grey’s trembling slowly eased.
The young merman hesitated for a long moment.
Then, cautiously, he moved a little closer to the glass wall of the tank.
Noah noticed the movement but remained perfectly still, afraid that even the smallest gesture might scare him again.
“That’s it…” he said gently. “It’s okay.”
Grey’s lips parted slightly.
His breathing was still shaky, and his hands trembled against the glass.
For a moment, no sound came out.
Then, very quietly, he whispered:
The name came out weak and fragile.
But Noah heard it immediately.
He blinked in surprise, then his expression softened.
“Hey… yeah. That’s me,” he said gently.
Grey lowered his gaze for a moment before looking back at him.
This time the name sounded less like curiosity…
As if saying it made everything a little safer.
“Yeah… I’m here,” he murmured softly.
Grey’s trembling had not completely stopped, but his breathing was no longer as frantic as before. He still kept close to the glass wall, watching Noah carefully.
Then Noah’s gaze drifted to the faint red trails in the water.
The smile disappeared from his face.
He leaned closer, concern written all over his expression.
“You’re bleeding again, little guy.”
Grey didn’t understand what he saying, but he noticed the sudden change in Noah’s face.
Noah hesitated for a moment before slowly rolling up his sleeve.
“Alright… easy… I just need to check them again.”
Very slowly, he dipped his hand into the water.
Grey stiffened immediately.
His tail twitched nervously.
But this time he didn’t retreat.
He stayed where he was, watching Noah’s hand approach.
Noah moved carefully, giving the merman plenty of time to pull away if he wanted to.
“It’s okay… I won’t hurt you,” he murmured.
When his fingers finally reached Grey’s gills, he touched them with extreme gentleness, carefully spreading the delicate tissue to see the injury better.
A small whimper escaped his lips.
Noah immediately softened his touch.
“Yeah… I know… I know, it hurts…”
He examined the wound for a few seconds, his brows knitting together.
“You really strained them earlier…”
After a moment Noah pulled his hand out of the water and reached for a small container nearby.
He opened it and dipped two fingers inside the pale cream.
When his hand returned to the water, Grey tensed again slightly.
“…Noah…” he whispered quietly.
With slow movements, he gently applied the cream along the injured edges of Grey’s gills.
The moment the medicine touched the sensitive skin, Grey’s eyes squeezed shut.
Tears slipped down his cheeks.
Noah worked carefully, spreading the cream with delicate motions.
“Almost done… almost done…”
Grey’s breathing trembled, but little by little the burning sensation began to fade.
After a few moments Noah finally withdrew his hand from the water.
“There we go,” he said softly.
Grey slowly opened his eyes again.
The water around him was no longer turning red.
For a moment the young merman simply looked at Noah.
Then, very quietly, he whispered once more:
The boy chuckled softly, shaking his head.
And somehow, hearing it again made the dark, cramped hold of the boat feel just a little less frightening.
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