She had once had a beautiful tail, covered by shinny purple scales; she would dance into the water, swimming; her voice would charm mortals and Gods…

Now she couldn’t even enter the water. Her tail had been replaced by an incomplete pair of legs; her charms were not like before, she noticed.

Zinger had once dreamed of walking among the human, and she had gone as far as she could, further than she should.
She had sold her soul for a spell.

“You will be able to be with the humans… walk among them, talk to them…” – she had been promised.

She should have known better. Nothing is for free…

“I will cast you a spell, mermaid…” – the young charming man had offered – “You won’t feel anything, don’t worry… I only need a hundred souls”

And she had done as told.
Zinger had brought the young charming man, who had made her that one promise, a hundred men. She would sing them blind, and attract them to the sea.
They would drown, and their souls would be trapped by that young charming man.

When Zinger had finally brought the hundredth, the young charming man had told her the news she had waited so long to listen to.
“It’s time. You will become human tonight”

And when the time had come, he mumbled words in a language Zinger had not understood.
She watched as her tail parted, becoming a pair of legs. She sat in the shallow, while the young charming man stood on the shore.
Her right leg was already completely formed; she shed tears of happiness. The left one… there was a thigh, and a knee. That’s all.

Zinger’s tears had become tears of fear, of sorrow and regret.
“What… happened?” – she questioned. Fear on her voice – “What- what went wrong?”

“I might just take your soul as well…” – she heard the man say. Disdain in his voice.

“No! What are you talking about?! I brought you the men!! You said you’d make me human!”

“Do you always believe what you’re told?” – the man laughed.

“No… you-you said…” – Zinger managed. She couldn’t hold her tears anymore - “You’re... You’re a monster...” – she spoke. Tears falling down her face

“You killed a thousand men out of selfishness…” – he laughed – “You’re not better than me”

He then left, leaving Zinger behind.

The night was dark and cold.
She crawled out of the shallow water, to the sand. She was cold, undressed… she couldn’t walk with only one leg…

Zinger had been lucky an old fisherman had found her and helped her.
She could see the image of his beloved son, who he had told her about later, who she had mercilessly attracted to the deepest in the ocean previously.

He had helped her find a replacement for her leg, that would always be covered by a long skirt; helped her build a wooden cabin, far from the sea, and he had taught her the art of painting.

She would spend her days in her cabin, painting… and she would take her portraits to fairs, on close villages, where she would be begged to accept apprentices.

Zinger wouldn’t go back to the sea ever again, and how she regretted…

She would occasionally place a hand on her chest, to make sure her heart still beat.
She could feel it beating, but she wouldn’t be able to feel anything else.

The most delicious foods had lost its taste.
She wouldn’t differentiate wine from water.
All lust would mean nothing.
Zinger wouldn’t feel anything, for you need a soul in order to feel, and she had long sold hers.