Love, the siren had found, was a sentiment that endured for centuries. Its meaning changed with the seasons and it could be broken as easily as smashing a pot, but the humans still insisted that they felt it. And no wonder, because love was the most addicting feeling on Earth.
The idea of love had been grossly softened over time. People watered it down because they couldn't comprehend the idea of true passion. The kind of passion that overtook your senses and consumed lives. Love was not flowers and hearts and soft words; it was pure, unadulterated feeling. It was knowing that someone would die for you, would kill for you.
People sometimes called the siren a monster. Well, most of the time. But only people who had not experienced the true magnificence of the kind of love the siren could give said things like that. All the others were grateful for the feelings the siren introduced them to. It was only right that they repay the siren in some way. Give back some of that wonderful love. And what better way to commemorate the new life given to them than to take away another's life?
People assumed that the siren was evil. That it killed to kill and discarded human life without a second thought. They couldn't have been further from the truth. Human life was immensely valuable; it was sacred. The siren valued each and ever life that was ended. Just because it relished in death didn't make it evil. It gave these humans a glimpse of what true passion was; what more could they possibly ask?
People thought that to kill meant to hate. But the siren loved with a love that was incomprehensible. It loved each and every human that it enchanted. And what was so wrong with a love that came through enchantment? How could one love be more true than another? It gave the humans so much, gave them everything they could dream of. All it wanted was love in return. Because there was nothing more addicting than love.