Death was satisfied. Her mistress had accepted her offering, imbuing her with strength. With life. Her prey's blood coursed through her, his flesh invigorating her. She marvelled at the way her lean body swished through the water with newfound grace and speed. If she offered the other two, surely she'd be allowed to keep her principe.

"Where was it, Gio?"

She halted, peering up toward the surface from the entrance of the tunnel. The dim silver light of Death's heavenly sister shone then, illuminating two shapes above. Her entire being hummed with excitement. Her prey had returned. And he'd brought a friend.

"H-Here," said the one who ran earlier. "It was right here, in the shallows. Maestro... shouldn't we check on Adriano?"

"He'll be fine," replied the one with light hair brusquely.

"Are you sure? I-I mean... you hit him pretty hard."

Her eyes widened, and she drew back with a start. Hit him? That bastard had hurt her principe? Rage boiled her blood. Sharp nails dug into the wall of the tunnel, scratching at the weed covering the stone. Within seconds, she uncovered the broken sword and net she'd concealed and darted out into the open water. They wouldn't escape her now. She'd kill them both!
Furiously, she swam past the kelp tendrils holding back her traps. The sword cut through them. Arrows and spears from multiple crossbows shot up at once. The projectiles flew through the water, breaking the surface without warning. A distorted voice was broken off abruptly, while another uttered a pained cry. A splash was then quickly followed by that sweet scent of fresh blood.

She grabbed the ropes and pulled her catch in, pleased to see it was the one who'd got away earlier. His torso and one leg were punctured by five arrows. One shiny tip flickered in the water, having flown straight through the man's throat. His fearful expression and agape mouth stood frozen, having been killed so suddenly, so swiftly. A shame... she'd been looking forward to making him suffer.
Once her victim was deep enough, she tied the ropes around a rock so the current wouldn't take him, and again gripped the broken sword and net. She crawled over the sailor's body and pushed off to the surface. She had such plans for the one with light hair.
La Morte would be pleased.

***

A sharp smell invaded Adriano's nose. A tangy copper, like that from the coins the bankers carried in their purses, mixed with brine and old wood. He sniffed, then hissed at the pain in his head, shooting right through his sinuses. He dared to touch his temple. Something wet and sticky coated his fingertips.
Adriano squinted and grunted as he fought to regain consciousness. He slowly turned his head, feeling the dirt and blood clinging to his skin. A lot of blood. Too much, even. He peered through his lashes, noticing the rivulets, a pool, and... Luca's severed head.

With a harrowed cry, Adriano shot up in terror, his pain forgotten. Where Luca's brown eyes had once been, only two empty sockets of raw flesh remained. His nose was gone too, as were his lips. His chestnut hair was soaking wet, but from water or blood, Adriano couldn't tell. Nor did he want to find out.
He shuffled back, his gaze never leaving Luca's mangled face until he touched something behind him. Something cold. Something he'd only ever felt when examining bodies. His breath hitched. Slowly — too slowly — his mind supplied the truth before his courage could stop it.

Adriano glimpsed over his shoulder, stiffening when he saw a right hand, sans arm and body attached to it. The bone sticking out appeared broken off, and the flesh... mauled. He scrabbled to his feet, eyes widening when he found Luca's other hand and two feet surrounding him as well. Mortified, Adriano reached for his mother's crucifix, but it wasn't around his neck anymore. He looked around, hoping that it might've just loosened when he'd fought... Lionardo!

"Lio!" he shouted. "Lionardo, answer me!"

Despair seized Adriano's heart. Resolutely, he grabbed the one torch Lionardo and Giovanni had left him, its fire hungrily licking the night air. Yet as he stepped out of the make-shift circle, he looked down at the dirt, now more clearly lit by the orange light. Were those... drag marks?
Adriano crouched and ran his hand across the disturbed soil. The trail eerily resembled something a body would leave, but there'd be a lot more blood had Luca been brought and dismembered here. Deep imprints interrupted the smooth, muddy grooves. The marks hadn't solely been made by something dragging Luca's remains, but by something dragging itself across the ground to place the body parts around him!

Nervously, Adriano glanced around. Silence permeated everywhere. Not the quiet of night, but a hollow stillness, as though the world itself were holding its breath with him. No wind stirred the leaves. No insects chirred. Even the distant surf seemed to have withdrawn, leaving only the faint ringing in his ears.
He strained to find the eyes he'd seen before. Nothing stared back. He exhaled carefully, convincing himself that he was truly alone. Then anxiety kicked in again.
What was he to do? His heart implored him to warn Lionardo, yet his mind urged caution. Sound carried too easily in places like this. By wanting to save them, he might as well doom them or even himself. And if Lionardo and Giovanni had already fallen prey to the monster, he was their only hope. 

With the torch held out, Adriano carefully followed the monster's trail, the blood shimmering in the firelight. Another body part lay in the grooves further ahead. And another. And another. Again, Adriano reached for his crucifix. Again, his heart plummeted at its absence.
Cold sweat trickled further down his spine with every step he took, yet he forced his feet to keep going. Further away, into the woods, toward the heart of the isola. He couldn't let Lionardo die in the belief he didn't care for him. Even if he didn't want to be physically intimate, he still wanted Lionardo in other ways. He had to tell him that. If he had to fight a monster to show Lionardo of his true feelings... so be it.

***

She turned the oddly shaped hanger between her fingers, staring at it in the azure light, fascinated by its simplicity. It was so very different from the pendant she'd taken off her prisoner. What meaning could two sticks across each other possibly have? Why would her principe wear it?
A groan interrupted her musings. She glared at her captive as he winced and moved his head. His fair hair was matted and darkened by blood. His own fault for struggling and making her strike him. He'd been as aggressive and challenging as a sea bass, but eventually, she'd got the upper hand. She had to make sure that didn't change.

Swiftly, she reached for the broken, blood-stained sword lying next to her and moved toward the man. The sharp end of her weapon pressed against his throat. She snarled, flashing her teeth at him. He made no sound, didn't move, didn't even flinch. The only sign of his alarm was the fast rising of his chest and the widening of his... golden eyes?

'The prince's closest companion was not as he seemed. God Almighty had sent one of his own to watch over the heir apparent. One with golden hair and golden eyes. Un angelo, sorellina. An angel.'

The sword thumped against the black dirt. She recoiled in terror, horrified at this sudden turn of events. She couldn't offer an angel to La Morte. It was sacrilege! Blasphemy! If she killed the angel, she'd lose her principe. But... would the angel even let him stay with her? Yes, she had to convince him!
Excitedly, she placed his pendant and that of her beloved on his chest. She then rolled around, reaching for the heart she'd carved out of her prey. How fortunate she hadn't eaten it yet! The angel uttered a gasp when she dropped the bloody gift in his lap. His eyes flickered back to her in consternation. Not enough. It wasn't enough!

Wait... the other one. Yes, that was it. Death had already had her fill. She'd already taken his soul. Why not give the shell to the angel then?
Without another moment's thought, she pushed herself back into the water. She had to hurry. Her principe was on his way. She had to return before he arrived to convince the angel she was good for him. That they belonged together. Then... they would live happily ever after.

***

Adriano carefully descended the steps of the burned down house, thankful for the torchlight brightening his way. At the slightest noise, he jumped, yet he wouldn't falter in his mission. Lionardo needed him. It was his turn to be the saviour.
A soft glow from below drew Adriano closer. An iron cast door stood wide open, a key stuck in the keyhole. The basement? It had to be. Cautiously, Adriano went in, his mouth dropping at the unearthly sight before him.

A bright, ghostly shine illuminated the flooded space, the surface of the water disturbed by soft, ghostly ripples, creating the most mesmerising effect on the high ceiling. A bloom of peculiar blue moss coated the broken beams and waterlogged stones. The faint sound of water dripping pulsed in time with the ripples, as though breathing, filling the chilly air with an ethereal calm. And at the far end of the basement, on a slope of coals and earth, with one arm shackled against the wall and a human heart at his side...

"Lio!"

Lionardo stopped pulling at his chain, his head whipping toward Adriano at the sound of his voice. Adriano jumped the last few steps, straight into the waist-high water, the torch slipping from his grasp and dying with a sharp hiss. Cold surged around his legs, dragging at his sodden clothes, each step heavier than the last. But Adriano waded further, hellbent on reaching Lionardo.
He climbed the slope, clawing his way up to his lover. Lionardo's hands caught him, and his lips found Adriano's with a force that stole what little breath he had left. They were chapped, tasted of fear and the sea, but Adriano kissed him back just as fiercely. He wrapped his arms around Lionardo's neck and held on, afraid that if he loosened his grip even for a moment, he would wake up alone again.

"You're so stupid," Lionardo sobbed against him, voice breaking as he pressed his forehead to Adriano's. "You're so stupid, Adriano. Why did you come here?"

"I had to find you," replied Adriano, tears stinging in his eyes. "Lio, I love you so much. I'm so sorry I made you think I didn't."

"It doesn't matter now."

"It does, I —"

"No, no, amore, listen to me. You need to leave right now, before — Adriano!"

Lionardo's warning made Adriano release him and spin around. As soon as his gaze landed on the long-haired woman in the water holding Giovanni's arrow-pierced corpse, his heart and body turned to ice.
She couldn't have been much older than him. Her eyes, the same ones he'd seen before, met his. She released Giovanni, letting him drift, and swam to the slope. She pushed herself out of the water, revealing her naked, scarred, and bruised body. Adriano gasped at the unnatural fusion of her legs into a single grotesque limb, the seven-toed foot twisted into something like a dolphin's ruined fluke. She resembled the drawing the captain had once made of a maiden with a fishtail.

"Sirenetta," whispered Adriano.

She looked up at the word, her body now mere inches from his. Did she understand him? He opened his mouth, wanting to ask, but his words cut into a yelp when she pulled him by his legs with surprising force.

"Adriano!" cried Lionardo. "No, let him go!"

But the Sirenetta paid him no heed. Adriano didn't dare move as her fingers curiously explored his face, tracing his temples, his jawline, his cheekbones... his lips. Those shimmering grey eyes settled on his own. She leaned in.

***

He was hers. Her principe had come, at long last. Now they would be together forever. With a smile, she pushed her mouth to his. He tensed. She drew back, confused by the reaction. Had she hurt him somehow? No, she didn't think so. 
Much to her surprise, he then scuttled back from her, as if he were... frightened? As soon as he was within reach, the angel pulled him up, his arm protectively wrapping around her principe. The broken sword shone in his hand; it was pointed right at her. She stared at them both. Why would the angel do this? Why would her beloved go to him and not stay with her?

'Despite their love, the prince betrayed the princess, sorellina. There was another who held his affection. One who'd been with him throughout the years.'

Her fratello's words echoed through her head, stripping her of her next breath. He had left before he could finish the story, so she didn't know if he'd meant the angel, but who else could her rival be? The way the angel held her principe, the way his eyes blazed with furious determination to keep him from her... And her love just clung to him.
A fierce ache twisted deep in her chest. If an angel stood between her and what was hers, then heaven itself had declared war. Her ache hardened into resolve. No rival, divine or otherwise, would be allowed to take her prince from her.

She lunged forward, her sharp nails flashing in the blue luminescence as she sank them in the principe's leg. His screams tore through her, but she wouldn't let go. She dragged him down again, her grip tight with the strength of the sea itself, her madness fuelled by heartbreak and betrayal.

***

"No, Adriano!"

Lionardo's harrowing cry followed Adriano as the water devoured him and the Sirenetta towed him across the basement floor to a hole in the wall. He wildly kicked the leg that didn't have a monster attached to it and somehow struck her against the head. She let go.
Adriano hurriedly pushed up with his feet. He broke through the surface right next to Giovanni's floating corpse. But he barely had enough respite to take another breath before being pulled under again.

The Sirenetta grabbed Adriano's arms, taking him to the bottom with her. He struggled, but she was impossibly strong. Those shimmering eyes that had only just looked at him in such utter devotion now looked at him with murderous rage. With ferocious hunger.

The frigid water enveloped him. His chest burned, instinctively aching to breathe, but Adriano knew he couldn't give in to that. He had to keep fighting. He thrashed against the resistance of both the water and the Sirenetta, but each movement drained his strength further. The light from above faded. His vision blurred. His flailing stilled.
Adriano could no longer feel the hands holding him down. All he felt was the slowed beating of his own heart, the cold... and then his body rising. The sudden burst of air filling his lungs made him gasp and cough.

"Adriano, for God's sake, move!"

Lionardo's urgent voice snapped enough clarity and adrenaline into Adriano for him to dart out of his arms and towards the stairs. A shriek echoed, bouncing off the cellar walls and penetrating Adriano's terrified heart. He looked behind to see Lionardo stab the broken sword into the water with both hands. Blood darkened the water. Lionardo withdrew the weapon and cut across the surface, again and again. Then he ran after Adriano.
They sprinted up the steps, Lionardo pushing Adriano on. The hairs on the nape of his neck rose as he heard wild splashes from the haunting abyss below. He fled out of the burned down house and into the sunrise, his lover's hand firmly clasped in his, his ears ringing with agonising wails.