Her body was sharp and angular, crafted from triangles and lines, her posture immaculate and unfaltering. She was the perfect puppet, a combination of delicacy and wit, equipped with the nimble, pale body of a child and the plump lipped, rounded face of a woman. Shockingly white locks spiralled from her scalp like a waterfall, picking up strange tones of light from the glittering chandelier and contrasting them against her silver skin. Deep, black river stones sat in her skull instead of eyes, pale lashes making up for the lack of white pupil inside her eyeball. Her movements were dangerous and beautiful, she glided across the ballroom floor like a ghost, barely present yet still impossible to ignore.

No one questioned anything, never wondered how a girl had been gifted with such painstaking beauty. Instead they watched in childish awe and wonder ,but never touched, terrified that if they reached out to stroke her soft skin they would ruin the otherworldly piece of art twirling and leaping before their naive eyes. The girl used her beauty as a disguise, masking the sharp rows of teeth nestled neatly between her gums, the barnacles clinging to the feet beneath her silk dancing slippers sodden with sea water, the delicate webs between her fingers and elbows. No one smelt the stench of salt water and sunken ships when they danced with her, instead they smelt delicate peony and warm hazelnut. They saw her as a beautiful young girl and nothing else, something to be protected, not feared.

the secrets woven underneath her wet, salty petticoats where neatly hidden beneath the satin glimmer of her hoop skirt, silver earrings and cerulean bodice. Beaty was the greatest disguise, it stole her mind and intentions, left her an innocent empty shell to be stared and glared at, a competition, a prize to be won. The ocean called to her, begged for her to return, but the girl declined, dancing and gliding from partner to partner, planning and scheming her next kill, stealing hearts and hopes from young sailor boys as she did so. The hours drew on and the night darkened, the sea grew angrier as the girls patience slimmed and her skin longed to feel the tang of salt water once more. but a promise was a promise and a promise had to be carried out and like a predator on the hunt, the siren had chosen her victim and a life had to be lost.