From below, a melody drifted upward, faint yet insistent, weaving through crashing waves. Not a song, but a pull—liquid, haunting, a lullaby from the sea’s depths. Sigrid froze, her breath catching. The sound curled around her, warm despite the chill, promising something unnamed. Her eyes darted to the cliff’s edge, where a narrow path snaked down to a shadowed cove. Against instinct, her feet moved, drawn by a tide.
The cave’s mouth gaped at the water’s edge, its walls slick with algae and secrets. Inside, the melody swelled, vibrating in her chest. Sigrid’s phone flashlight flickered, casting jagged beams across stalactites glistening as teeth. Her heart pounded, but she pressed deeper, the air heavy with brine and something ancient. Shadows danced at her vision’s edges, and the melody sharpened into a voice—ethereal, wordless, alive.
“Who’s there?” Sigrid’s voice cracked, barely audible over dripping water. No answer came, the song pulling her toward a pool at the cave’s heart, its surface unnaturally calm, reflecting nothing.
From the water, a figure rose, fluidly, as if poured from the sea. The Havfru. Her skin shimmered, pearlescent and scaled, her hair a cascade of kelp-dark strands writhing. Her eyes churned, storm clouds, endless, wild, pinning Sigrid in place. The siren’s lips parted, and the melody ceased, leaving silence pressing against Sigrid’s skull.
“You’re lost,” the Havfru said, her voice low, resonant, waves breaking on a distant shore. “Not here, but in your world. Fading. Forgotten.”
Sigrid’s throat tightened. “How do you know?” Her words sounded small, swallowed by the cave’s vastness.
The Havfru tilted her head, her gaze unblinking. “I see what the sea sees. Your heart screams for glory, for eyes to adore you again. I can give you a voice to captivate, to command. They’ll worship you—online, in their dreams, forever.”
Suspicion flared in Sigrid’s chest, but desperation burned hotter. “What’s the catch?” she asked, stepping closer, her boots slipping on damp stone.
The Havfru’s smile was sharp, pitying. “A simple trade. Sing my song to sailors. Draw them to the rocks. Their lives will feed my curse, and your fame will never fade.”
Sigrid’s stomach churned. She pictured ships splintering, men screaming, their faces lost to dark water. Her followers’ likes flashed in her mind, hollow but addictive, a lifeline to her old self. “That’s… murder,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
“Is it?” The Havfru drifted closer, her form half-submerged, her eyes boring into Sigrid’s. “They choose to follow, as your followers do. You offer beauty, they chase it. Some fall. Is it your fault?”
Sigrid’s hands clenched, nails biting into her palms. The cave seemed to tighten, shadows deepening, whispering. She thought of her empty inbox, her dwindling bank account, the silence of her notifications. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice breaking. “I want it back. All of it.”
“Then take it.” The Havfru extended a hand, its fingers webbed, glistening, sharp at the tips. “Sing for me, and the world will sing for you.”
With her heart a storm of fear and hunger, Sigrid reached out. Her trembling fingers met the siren’s, cold as the sea, unyielding as stone. The handshake sealed it, and the cave’s shadows surged, swallowing the light. The melody returned, inside Sigrid, thrumming in her veins, promising power—and a price.
#
Under a moonless Bergen sky, Sigrid Vinter lingered at the coastal cave’s edge, her breath shallow, her phone glowing in her trembling hand. Her latest livestream—a haunting Norse ballad, her voice unearthly, woven with the Havfru’s cursed magic—had ended. The screen blazed with notifications: 10,000 new followers, then 50,000, her numbers climbing feverishly. Comments flooded in, calling her voice “divine,” “otherworldly,” begging for more. Yet, as wind whipped her tangled hair, Sigrid’s hollowed eyes fixed on the dark waves below, where jagged rocks glistened with a fishing boat’s wreckage.
Each night, the Havfru’s melody clawed her mind, forcing her back to the cave. There, her voice—a siren’s weapon—spilled out, summoning boats to their doom. Crashes echoed in her skull, blending with sailors’ screams haunting her sleepless nights. Her apartment, once a cozy haven of fairy lights and thrifted rugs, felt a prison, its walls closing in as guilt gnawed her raw. She hadn’t slept in days, her reflection a stranger with shadowed eyes and trembling lips.
In a dimly lit café on Bergen’s waterfront, Sigrid sat across from Eirik, her oldest friend, her hands wrapped around untouched cold coffee. The hum of conversation and clinking mugs faded, drowned by phantom screams in her head. Eirik, broad-shouldered and steady, leaned forward, his brow creased with worry. His flannel sleeve brushed the table as he studied her, noting the dark circles and twitching fingers.
“Sigrid, you look wrecked,” he said, his voice low but firm. “What’s happening? Your livestreams explode, but you’re falling apart.”
She forced a brittle smile. “Tired. The followers, the pressure.” Her voice wavered, and she glanced at the window, half-expecting the Havfru’s storm-dark eyes in the rain-streaked glass.
Eirik’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t lie. I’ve known you since childhood. You’re haunted.” He leaned closer, whispering, “What’s got you? Talk.”
Sigrid’s resolve cracked. The Havfru’s curse—the nightly songs, shattered boats, lost lives—pressed her chest, begging release. She opened her mouth, then hesitated, the siren’s melody pulsing faintly in her veins, a warning. “I made a deal,” she murmured, barely audible. “To revive my career. It costs more than I expected.”
Eirik’s jaw tightened. “A deal? With who? A shady sponsor?” His voice held a protective edge. “You can walk away. You’re stronger.”
Sigrid’s laugh was sharp, nearly a sob. “You don’t understand. I can’t. She won’t let me.” Her hands shook, spilling coffee across the table, unnoticed. “I sing, and people die, Eirik. Fishermen, sailors… their screams haunt me.”
His face paled, but he stayed close. “She? Who? Sigrid, explain.” He grasped her hand, his grip warm, grounding. “If someone controls you, we’ll solve it. You’re not a killer.”
Tears stung her eyes, blurring the café’s warm lights. “I don’t know how,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “When I resist, her voice… it’s in me. It pulls me to the cave.” Her phone buzzed, notifications flooding, and she flinched. The Havfru’s presence lingered, a shadow tightening around her mind.
Eirik’s expression hardened, resolute. “We go to the cave. Together. We face this. You’re not alone.”
Sigrid’s gaze drifted to the window, where the sea churned beyond the glass, dark and endless. The Havfru’s melody stirred, a command she couldn’t refuse. Her lips parted, a shaky breath escaping. “I don’t know if I can resist her,” she said, her voice barely hers. “But I’m tired of drowning.”
#
Beneath jagged cliffs near Bergen, Sigrid Vinter trembled at the coastal cave’s mouth, her phone clutched as a lifeline. Wind howled, carrying salt and her resolve. Her millions of followers—a global swarm hooked on her haunting Norse ballads—awaited her rebellion. The Havfru’s curse had drained her, her voice a noose luring sailors to death, and guilt carved her hollow. Tonight, she’d expose the siren, break the spell, or die trying. Her livestream flickered on, the cave’s slick walls glinting in the phone’s harsh light, her pale face framed against darkness.
“I’m here,” Sigrid said, her voice steady despite trembling hands. “In the cave where it began. You’ve heard my songs, but not the cost. Tonight, you’ll see the truth.” Comments flooded the screen—emojis, questions, demands for another ballad—but she ignored them, her eyes fixed on the pool at the cave’s heart, its surface smooth as glass, hiding the Havfru’s presence.
A ripple stirred, and the air grew heavy with ancient brine. Sigrid’s heart pounded, but she pressed on, raising her voice. “She’s real. The siren. The Havfru. She gave me this voice, a curse. She forces my songs, and ships crash. People die.” Her words cracked, raw with guilt. “I’m done hiding her.”
The water churned violently, and the Havfru emerged, her pearlescent form rising, a storm made flesh. Her storm-dark eyes blazed with fury, her kelp-dark hair writhing. The cave trembled, stalactites quivering overhead. Sigrid’s phone shook, but she held it steady, the livestream capturing the siren’s impossible beauty and rage.
“You dare betray me?” The Havfru’s voice roared, a tempest shaking the walls, slicing Sigrid’s resolve. “I gave you glory. You belong to me.”
Sigrid’s knees buckled, but she forced herself upright, her voice rising over the sea’s roar beyond. “No! I won’t be your weapon anymore. The world sees you. They know your nature.” She tilted the phone, framing the Havfru’s snarling face, her followers’ comments exploding—shock, disbelief, terror flooding the feed.
The siren’s laugh cut sharply, a blade of sound. “Fool. Your world cannot save you.” With a flick of her webbed hand, the pool surged, icy water spiraling upward, coiling around Sigrid’s ankles. She stumbled, the phone nearly slipping. “You will sing for me forever,” the Havfru hissed, her eyes swallowing light, “in the deep, where none hear.”
“No!” Sigrid screamed, wrenching her legs free, her boots slipping on slick stone. She lunged toward the cave’s mouth, desperation fueling her, but the water moved faster, a living thing, wrapping her waist, her chest. The phone’s light flickered, the livestream glitching as followers’ panicked comments scrolled: What’s happening? Sigrid, run! Is this real?
“I’m sorry,” she choked, her voice breaking as the water tightened, pulling her toward the pool. “I tried—” The Havfru’s hand closed around her wrist, cold as death, and with an enraged snarl, the siren dragged her down. Icy depths swallowed Sigrid, the pool’s surface closing over her scream. The phone fell, its screen cracking against stone, the livestream cutting to black.
On screens worldwide, millions watched the feed die, their horrified messages piling up in the void. Beyond the cave, the Bergen coast fell silent—no waves, no wind, the weight of absence. Sigrid’s fate hung unresolved, a shadow in the deep, her defiance a fleeting spark against the Havfru’s endless wrath.
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Exciting news! Cumberland Chronicles has officially launched on Books2Read! If you're a fan of supernatural, horror, or weird stories, I’d love for you to give it a read. If it’s not quite your style, a quick share would go a long way in helping me connect with the right audience. Thank you for the support!
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