IT WAS A PATHETIC CREATURE, that it was. It lay unconscious, half in the river and half out of it, still as death itself. Little Girl, in fact, thought the thing was dead, but the slight shuddering gasps of breath it exhaled every few minutes proved her suspicions wrong. The moonlight cast a warm glow of light around the--well, what was it really? Little Girl supposed it to be some kind of monster. But no, it looked too--oh, what was the word?--too elegant to be some sort of foul beast.

She set her lantern--its light now fading to a gentle glimmer--down and the moist dirt gave in slightly, allowing for a slight impression of the object to become embedded in its soft surface. Taking a few cautious steps towards the being, she exhaled and watched in fascination as she saw her breath appear before her eyes in small clouds of fog.

Little Girl presumed the poor thing from the river would be cold--it was shuddering after all, though whether from the cold or from sheer exhaustion she could not really tell. However, one was always better safe than sorry, so kneeling in the dirt she removed her frock and placed it over the creature’s back. She ignored or perhaps was even oblivious to the chill wind blowing across her now bare breasts as she smoothed the fabric over the thing’s body.

Her movements were always slow and delicate, as if she contemplated each and every move before performing a task, and they remained slow as she placed one foot in front of the other to make her way to the water’s edge. Little Girl gave a soft ‘oh’ of surprise as she noticed the glistening scales that made up the nice monster’s--for it was too remarkable and glamorous and simply marvelous to be a mean monster--lower half. She ran a hand along the--was it a tail? Her mouth opened in fascination as she felt the strong muscles that made up this part of the creature’s body. Little Girl was stilled for a moment, held in Captivation’s tight grasp.

Another moment passed and her hand twitched as tiny organisms moved from the creature's posterior to her knuckles and greedily nipped at her flesh. Her hand moved forward up the tail and Little Girl noticed that as strong as this being appeared to be, parts of its flesh were swollen and, she thought as she curled her fingertips, terribly slimy.

Little Girl's hand continued to explore the body of the thing from the river, spreading the slippery mucus. She paused for a moment over the place where the fish tail merged into what seemed to be the back of a man, then continued up the creature’s human frame. This part of the body, too, was inflamed and bloated, though as she moved her hand slowly, slowly up the spine of the thing she could feel the muscles underneath the unwholesome flesh spasm. She continued this way until her small fingers reached the nape of the neck. There long golden hair came forth from the creature’s head. It was undone and messy and little bits of reeds and sand were ensnared in the mess, but it was glorious all the same to Little Girl. Entwining her fingers in the hair, she gently twirled it and softly pulled it--but always slowly, always slowly.

Her hands then crawled their way up to the crown of the head and she pulled it back delicately. The thing gave a grunt, then, and its eyes snapped open. Little Girl looked into them--what frightened eyes it had! They jerked back and forth violently, once, twice, then shut once more.

And slowly, slowly, she placed the head back down in the dirt.

With all her strength and a small cry of exertion she rolled the Nice Monster onto its back. She looked slightly troubled when she noticed that her frock would do this creature no good anymore--she had placed the frock on its back, hadn’t she, and now she’d gone and rolled him over so his chest would be cold and exposed! However, she let the thought slip from her mind.

She closed her eyes and for a moment her soul seemed to leave her as she fell completely still. A moment later her eyes opened and she placed both her hands on the creature’s chest, lowering her head to rest on the place where its heart lay barely beating under its breast. Intoxicated by the fetor of fish and putrid flesh, she whispered with almost drunken words:

‘Daddy always told me there were no such things as mermen.’

Little Girl’s head was turned towards Merman’s neck and her eyes were closed; a small smile played on her lips as she lay waiting and listening. She knelt there, motionless, as the creature’s heartbeat came to a still, and the last signs of life faded from its eyes until they were as dull and empty as Little Girl’s own had always been.