Alexandra was born in Romania but lives in the United Kingdom with her husband, two kids, and their cat. She has always dreamt of becoming a writer and is finally fulfilling this dream. She has always loved the horror genre, even as a child, but the moment she knew she wanted to write horror was when, as a young woman, she came across John Saul and Stephen King’s books.
When she is not working (as a sales assistant in a bookstore) or spending time with her family, she enjoys reading and writing what she loves the most, horror and dark fantasy.
You can read more from Alexandra right HERE.
WHISPERS FROM THE SEA
by
Alexandra Nisneru
He was advancing slowly into the darkness, toward the furious, white waves hitting the rocky pier with immense strength. The cold sand was shifting slightly under his bare feet and soon left room to a more rocky terrain. Tiny pebbles started cutting at his feet but he wouldn't feel it. He wouldn't feel the tiny spots of blood seeping through where the sharp corners of the rocks and stones on the pier cut his skin. He wouldn't hear the rage of the waves hitting and frothing all around him as he was advancing on the length of the pier. He wouldn't hear the solitary squawk of a restless seagull using the night's quiet to search for food.
The only thing he was able to hear was her voice. A beautiful, hypnotic, heavenly voice that was singing, calling to him.
They have talked before. A month ago, when he visited the sea at night, trying to forget about his girlfriend cheating on him. He always found comfort in the sound of the sea, in the cold and salty breeze of the night. That night, he heard her for the first time and he fell in love. He didn’t need anything else, beside her voice, whispering to him from the bottom of the sea, hypnotising him. He dreamt about her every night since then, and her calling was becoming stronger and stronger with each night that passed.
He kept walking, in a trance until he reached the edge of the pier. He could barely see in the absolute darkness of the sea, but he found his way and climbed the rocks at the end of the pier until he was standing right on edge, and he could feel droplets of water from the crashing waves hitting his naked body and making his skin pucker at the feeling of the icy coldness of the seawater. He looked down into the abyss but couldn't see anything, just a black nothingness.
He heard the voice again, whispering gently: "Come to me!" He took a last breath in, feeling the salty taste of the sea air and plunged into the freezing, angry waters below. She was there waiting for him. What it felt to him as a sweet embrace, was quickly followed by the sensation of a thousand needles stabbing at his skin. It was her teeth ripping through his skin, as well as the teeth of ten others like her who joined in as soon as he hit the water. Their teeth and claws were biting and tearing his skin and face, pulling him deeper under the water, ripping out pieces of his flesh.
He tried to scream but it was too late. He opened his mouth, but water rushed in and invaded his whole being, leaving him without air and strength. Eventually, he abandoned himself to the pain, to the teeth and claws of the sirens that kept ripping, biting, and clawing at his skin, shredding the last remaining pieces of it and pulling out the precious organs, and sinking their teeth into the warm, chewy tendrils of his soft intestines.
Under water, all the ripping and tearing remained silent, no sound could be heard, as the sirens continued their feast. At the surface, the white froth of the sea water turned to red but continued hitting the rocky pier, undisturbed and unknowing of the massacre below.
Everything was quiet besides the lonely squawk of a seagull looking for food.