It was like an itch. No, more like a pinch, or a poke with a tiny needle. A push, that encouraged a closer proximity to the sea. Every step away from it felt like a weakening, an innate feeling of simple wrongness. Walking closer though -- it was bliss. Euphoria, every step taken. And... the song.

That song, so simple yet so hauntingly beautiful. It could be heard, faintly, through the window on those nights. Those cold, crisp fall evenings. Just before the eyes fell, just before sleep came, the song would worm its way into ears and compel. Beckon, towards the sea. Every second wasted in the bed was painful, every night going by at a painful rate.

It was too much to bear. Now though, standing on the dock, all that could be felt was bliss. In the water, soft waves bounced off the wood, spurred by a cutting breeze. Eyes peered out of the water, and slowly, a head lifted. One hand pushed onto the dock, and the woman pushed herself up. Her lips parted and the song came again, even stronger than before. Her hand reached out, lightly brushing skin... and her prey was pulled into the water.