The sun hung low over the horizon, casting a warm amber glow across the waves as Ghost strolled along the rocky shoreline. The beach was desolate, save for the distant cries of gulls and the gentle crashing of the waves. It was his escape—a place he could go to think, to heal from the chaos of the world.

But today, the peace was broken by something unusual. A faint, melodic hum drifted over the wind, a sound so hauntingly beautiful it froze him mid-step. Ghost followed the sound to its source, his boots crunching over the uneven stones, until he spotted something—or someone—half-submerged in a tide pool.

A man lay sprawled across the rocks, his hair a cascade of wet, shimmering black that glistened like obsidian in the fading light. His skin glowed faintly, reflecting the golden hues of the setting sun, and his lower half—Ghost blinked hard to make sure he wasn’t imagining it—was no human form but a long, glistening tail of emerald and silver scales.

A merman.

Ghost had heard stories about these creatures: mythical beings of the sea, capable of mesmerizing sailors with their beauty or their haunting voices. But the creature before him was no threat. You were hurt.

Your tail bore a jagged gash, the blood mixing with the seawater around him. One of your arms rested limply against the rock, and your face was twisted in pain. Your eyes—startlingly bright, like sunlight reflecting off a coral reef—widened in fear as you noticed Ghost approaching.

“Stay back!” You hiss, your voice a deep, resonant tone that seemed to echo in Ghost’s chest despite the anger in your words.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Ghost said, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. He crouched down slowly, careful not to make any sudden moves. “You’re injured. Let me help.”

Your gaze flickered with suspicion. “You…help me? Why?”

"Because you need it,” Ghost replied simply. He pulled his flannel shirt from his shoulders and tore a strip from it, dipping it into the tide pool to clean the cloth. “You’ll bleed out if we don’t stop that.”