PRINCE Eric had thought that death should have been more painful than this. But then again, the young Prince of Ipswich was certain that he was far from any glorious Heaven. If he were in Heaven, he was sure that he would be reunited with Mother and Father.

But as it happened, the Prince seemed to be caught in a churning vicious tide. All at once, he was brutally aware of the searing pain in his leg, and the blood, oh, gods, there was so much blood.

The shark that had encountered him in the waters as he'd sank to the fathoms below had taken a good bite out of his leg, though thankfully, the limb hadn't been totally bitten off, though it would get infected soon if he did not receive medical help. It was almost more than he could bear.

His muscles attempted to writhe in agony, and he was briefly aware of the grains of sands beneath his back digging into his shirt. His aching body refused to move and kept the bleeding Prince lying firmly in place, waiting for something to happen.

But then, he would succumb to nothingness. An all-encompassing void in which Eric ceased to exist. Then pain again, and once more, a dark emptiness would creep upon him. Perhaps this was what Hell felt like, Eric wondered bitterly as bile gathered in the back of his throat. He supposed he deserved it, venturing away from his kingdom and his subjects in search of the mysterious red-haired beauty, a siren, he thought, who had saved his life on his twenty-first birthday several months ago.

He'd seen her swimming towards him at an alarmingly fast speed, her red hair a halo around her head as she had floated in front of him.

Since she had saved his life, the siren permeated his every thought, and the sound of her sweet, melodious singing voice had caused him to crash his ship against the rocks in the first place.

It had nearly cost his life, the lives of his crew members, and his beloved Old English Sheepdog, Max.

At this point, for the price of his foolishness, he did not care if the gaping hole in his leg caused to him by that shark he did not even know was dead took his life, and he died from blood loss and the raging delirious fever that accompanied it. He thought he deserved it.

Without the respect of his people who by now surely thought Eric mad, and without knowing if the beautiful siren from the sea was real, he had no reason to live. So, Prince Eric wallowed in his misery, alone in his darkness, and longed for the siren of the sea to sing him the most beautiful song he had ever did hear as he passed away. It was only her voice that would be his comfort forever, and still, Eric knew he would consider himself fortunate. He would never need to give up on his mermaid again.

So intently did he focus upon the remembrance of her sensation upon his skin, feeling her cool fingertips stroke his cheek as he remembered waking up on the beach, that he could almost conjure the siren with no name. For the few moments his feverish mind would allow, he could enjoy her and imagine that none of it had ever occurred. Eric found himself surfacing from the darkness once more, his thoughts filled with thoughts of the mermaid. He wished he could float there alongside her, savoring every moment.

But it did not stop. He continued to rise from the darkness, until breaking free of the pain began to hurt, worse than anything Eric had ever felt in his lifetime.

His whole body was on fire. Even when the shark had bitten into his leg, the pain had not been so fierce, so brutal. But the worst part was the image of the mermaid leaving him, slipping through his arms and vanishing into sea foam right in front of him. He wanted to scream, from pain, heartache, and fear. For what did he have left, if not the memory of her image, and the sound of her sweet voice?

Suddenly, from nowhere, a burning light burned into his vision. The torch that was thrust into his face was dim like a candle, yet agonizing to the injured Prince, nonetheless.

It very nearly blinded him. Everything weighed down upon him. The salt air shocked his burning lungs as they gasped for the taste of it. The force of whatever was happening to him snapped his eyes open.

The darkness of the fathoms below, under the sea, was gone, as was the shark who he had been sure would have eaten him whole. His chest heaved as his heart struggled to find its beat. He tried to move, flexing his muscles, but he could not move. Each attempt sent a searing explosion of pain in his leg.

Then, he heard her voice. The siren's, speaking to him.

No. No. No. No. No. His mind groped for understanding as his eyes could no longer stand the strain of remaining open and seared themselves shut again. It could not be. He wanted to yell.

Had the siren died in the shark attack as well? Had anyone else besides him been hurt? There had been two of them, two Great Whites, and both of them enormous.

Prince Eric fought to open his eyes. He did not understand what was happening and had to know.

The effort took all he had left within himself to give. At last, Eric's blue eyes shot wide open, as if he emerged the victor in the conflict his body was waging war. His eyes' torture was met by the harrowing burning pain of the torch fire once more. His hoarse throat screamed against it.

He tried to raise his bloodied and bruised arms, to shield his vision with his hand, but his body stayed motionless.

To me…back….come back…to me…to me…

The siren's shy voice cut through the cloudy haze in the Prince's mind again. She called to him from somewhere he could not see.

He heard her voice again.

Then…she was alive. And so was he. He was not dead. She had found him again, somehow.

The memories flooded back into his awareness and sent a chill down his spine, as though the siren herself had doused him with a bucket of ice-cold water, and his teeth chattered loudly. If she was alive and speaking to him now, then….

Then…

He…she…oh.

His heart sank lower from the depths of the ocean from which he had been plucked. Exhausted and confused, Prince Eric knew he could fight no more.

He knew that he must be alive, but he did not wish to be. He let himself go. The pain in his leg and chest and arm was too much to bear. He wanted to fall back into the darkness, to let the fathoms of the ocean claim him, and he would cease to exist. If he was alive, then his witch's curse still existed, which meant that he could likely not have the woman of his dreams as he wanted.

The conditions he remembered, had been quite clear. Eric relaxed into the void. He prayed it would end his sorrow. He wanted no further part of this fresh hell.

As precious sleep found Prince Eric once more, under the watchful and vigilant eye of the siren who had saved his life, the same siren who he had been hunting the last several months, he whispered the only thing that meant anything to him anymore.

"Sing," he sighed, and then, the injured man slipped into sleep.