I have never once before questioned my purpose. I am a keeper of the ocean and all its more vulnerable creatures. And man is a threat to them, to us.

I have seen firsthand the impact of man and his schemes. Black, shiny shadows that spill from their ships and suffocate whole ecosystems. Invisible plastic nets that kill for no purpose to be seen. Death waste that poses as food, the very things the creature of the deep need to survive, killing them.

I have never questioned my purpose because it is man’s own greed and desire for control that lures them to me and their watery grave. I have been told that men resist our song and that is that.

We only kill in our domain.

And I have killed before.

I sometimes wonder what it would be like, to witness me in your last moments. Do my scales reflect their terrified or unconcerned movements? Do my eyes glitter with the promise of death? Does my body, black and as shiny as their shadow poison, reveal my murderous intentions?

An eel careens past my view, and I am forced to stop and take in the beauty of my home. The effect of swaying kelp, and swirling sand, and deep rolling waters and currents is never lost on me. That is the difference between me and man. I am a protector and I appreciate my home. Humans have only destroyed theirs.

I spot a disturbance and the telltale signs of the human floating devices. The ship is large, and I am about to rein my hell-song when a body is thrown into the water.

I watch waiting for the ropes or even another human to save her, the girl I realise she is just a child. One that cannot swim. After minutes thrashing I realise the boat has not stopped and the girl’s movements are slowing.

They have left her, this poor vulnerable creature. The thought is unwelcome. Since when are humans vulnerable? Innocent?

This one is. I know it with an intensity matched only by my purpose, and I know what I must do.