Calliope's Song

The ground of the barren island raked and tore the soft skin that would have the misfortune to walked upon it. The surface was pockmarked with shallow craters that housed small tidepools but, no creature would dare to inhabit them. The sea was perpetually turbulent, and the overwhelming stench of sea spray invaded every pore and strand of hair.

Fish and sharks alike were driven far from the Devil’s Isle from fear that their bones would be crushed to dust and their blood drunk as if it were water.

The only creatures that inhabited this forsaken, deserted area at sea’s edge were creatures known to sailors and written about in Antiquity-era epics. They were beautiful women with long, flowing locks whose beauty was used to deceive mortals.

A mere utterance of their voices could drive a sailor to steer his ship onto the rocks of their desolate isle. These creatures had twisted, feathered lower haves of large birds. Their knotted, needle-sharp claws dug into the rocky surface of their accursed sanctuary.

Calliope stood, staring wistfully out as far as her piercing eyes could reach, towards the maelstrom that had begun to swirl and churn a few miles from the barren rock that functioned as her home.

The broken, battered wooden mast of the skeleton ship that had sunk many years ago was piercing the sea and unwilfully dragged towards the vortex. The sea spray stung her red eyes as she continued to gaze blankly towards the horizon.

Perhaps, one more would come and satisfy us. One more, she thought as she tore her eyes from the sea and turned her gaze to her emaciated sisters. Their cheeks were sunken and once beautiful faces drawn and sallow. The lack of mortal’s flesh had turned them from feared temptresses of the sea into old, songless hags. Their voices could not save them now but, my voice is the key.

Her sister, Cassiopeia, clutched the fragment of a femur tightly in her grip as she gnawed and crunched the shard to white powder that was swept away by the wind. The others of her kin glared lustfully towards the pile of dried, sun-bleached bone splinters that were clustered at the edge of the rocky shore.

“Calliope,” Cassiopeia hoarsely whispered. Her words nearly swept away by the increasing intensity of the wind. “You must sing. Hag, thistle-hair, needle mouth witch. Only you can save us now.”

“My dearest sister,” Calliope responded in a child-like tone that was as smooth as honey. “You know as well as I that I cannot sing. It is not in my nature.”

She strode to the nearest tide pool and glanced at her reflection. The claws of her talons clicking and scraping as she grasped the jagged mounds of lava rock to keep her balance. She was youthful and flawless, her hair a pearly shade of soft white.

“Unlike you, I retain my vitality. It is not in my nature to waste the sea’s beauty through expending my voice,” Calliope continued.

Cassiopeia clutched the rocks and dragged herself along the edge of the shore, her paralyzed lower half trailing behind her. “You are selfish sister. Selfish and cruel. Have you not the pang of starvation as we?” She gestured to the others, haphazardly scattered in various locations on the rock.

Calliope glanced at her sisters emotionlessly. “I have no hunger or craving for the flesh and blood of another. The sea sustains me. After all, we are creatures of the ocean's maw.”

“Insolent sister. Soon, you shall no longer be the favored one of the deep blue below. Sisters, we shall make a pact,” Cassiopeia screamed, her voice cracking and wavering. She turned to face the others; their heads tilted up slightly as to meet her gaze. “Sisters, if Calliope refuses to sing, she shall be our next meal. I have no qualms with eating my own kin. I long to have bones to crunch and blood to sip from my chalice.”

The other sisters squealed and croaked in agreement as they clumsily pulled themselves from their positions on the razer-rock surface. The sky grew darker and more menacing; rain began to pelt their skeletal bodies as they drew nearer.

Calliope’s smug smile began to fade away as Cassiopeia lunged towards her, hooking her needle teeth into the leathery surface of Calliope’s vulture-like leg. The other sisters swarmed around them, pulling hair and feathers alike. The wind howled and masked Calliope’s screams of agony and horror by sweeping the sounds far into the distance.

Blood began to leak from the pin-prick holes from needle teeth than impaled deeply into her skin. “Sisters,” Calliope cried as she flailed and tried to stay their aggressive advances. “Sisters, I implore you. Do not make me sing. Please. I do not know how,” she cried and held her crimson arms to guard her face.

Cassiopeia halted her tearing and ripping of flesh. The metallic liquid dripped from her inflamed gums down her chin. “Sisters,” she had slightly regained the beauty her voice once held. “Calliope says she cannot sing. Is this true?”

Calliope nodded her head vigorously, her pearly hair now stained with her deep ruby life source. “I have no knowledge. My voice has betrayed me, the sea has betrayed me. I have no such gift.” She cried as she reached her arm into the raging sea, hoping it would whisk her way into the gullet of the maelstrom to drown.

“Well sister Calliope, you must try. If you do not, your bones will be dust before sunset,” Cassiopeia rasped as she gnashed her needle teeth, sending flecks of blood into the wind. “We will wait patiently until then.”

With great effort, Cassiopeia retreated to her spot onto the highest mound of lava rock; the spot for the eldest of the wicked sisters.

Calliope wept as she washed the blood from her appendages, occasionally sampling some of the sweet liquid with disgusted relish. She turned and was met with the gaze of her crazed sisters. They had the taste for blood and would not stop until their thirst was quenched.

She looked towards the farthest point where her salt-spray infected eyes could reach and focused at the task at hand. The wind continued to dance and rip past her skin until it felt raw and her eyes dry and sand-filled.

Calliope parted her rosy lips and let a string of gurgles and squeaks created by her failing vocal cords escape into the open air. Her voice was comparable to a seagull cawing and squealing as it fluttered in the skies above.

In vain, she tried once more, this time recounting the old tale that had been passed down from sister to sister of her kind.

Once the one sister, of all tales long ago

Broke free of bonds, that held her below

To her boy with pearly hair, she would choose

To stay forevermore

The words came out like wisps of seaweed, choked and wet. Unable to sing, Calliope stumbled over the rocks to plea with Cassiopeia.

“Please sister, have pity on me. I cannot sing,” Calliope cried as she grasped the bony arm of her sister.

Cassiopeia bared her teeth to form a horrific smile. “Dear sister, the sun still has a few hours of life left. The pact,” she paused and gazed at the other sister for approval. “still stands.”

Calliope stood rigidly with her back to the hail and rain. “I cannot sing sister. I simply cannot,” she cried, begging for mercy. “Please sister, have pity on me. I am sorry for my petulance. Forgive me.”  

Cassiopeia stared forward, not meeting the imploring gaze of Calliope. “You must sing before the sun sets.”

Calliope stood once more at the edge of the rock, her windburned face and torso exposed to the harsh elements. I must sing, only my voice can save me now. In the distance, past the maelstrom, sea, and rain, she spotted movement on the horizon. A ship bearing a large piece of red and white cloth embellished with the helmet of Athena.

“There sisters,” Calliope shouted but did not turn to meet their gazes. “There lies our rescue, look towards the horizon.”

“Sister, your time is nearly up. You can prove yourself to us by luring this ship onto the rocks with your voice,” Cassiopeia said softly as her eyes gleamed with hunger and anticipation.

Calliope turned back to the raging sea and parted her soft petal-like lips once more. She threw her head back and began to vocalize high pitched notes that were carried away by the wind. The sounds were shrill and warbling. They were not beautiful siren’s song but, of harpy screeches and trills.

“Sister, your time is up,” Cassiopeia said as the last rays of sunlight sank below the sea, creating a momentary flash of green.  

“But the ship still comes this way,” Calliope hurriedly responded as she pointed towards the ship’s outline which grew closer with every second.

Cassiopeia shook her head. “Sister, you did not sing. The ship comes here on its own volition. There will be more mortal to share amongst us.”

Calliope trembled and took a few steps back as her sisters advanced upon her. Blood and feathers were whisked away into the air to be carried away to some unknown shore.

From his position at the helm, the Captain could make out the forms of six beautiful women sunning themselves on an island covered in exotic species of flora. Each beckoned his men with pleading eyes and mouths ripe with song and kisses.