November 19, 2014: Velvet Humans

Residents of apartments located on the corner of Spring Street and Wooster Street in lower Manhattan are shimmering.
Most are shimmering. Some aren’t as lucky.

It looks like the velvet disease. They call it  Gold Dust disease. But, really, I’ve only seen it in fish. How humans got it, I have no idea.

Some of the residents can be seen running up and down their hallways, rubbing up against the wall. Layers of their skin peeling off, leaving black streaks.

Some are holding themselves tightly, shivering and gasping for air – their skin illuminated under fluorescent lights.

The CDC followed a strange humming to the roof of the building.
Inside the buildings water tower they found a mermaid, dead, covered in black spots looking like she’d been rolled in gold dust.

The parasite traveled from the water tower into the residents showers and drinking water.

They’ve sealed off the building, allowing only CDC personnel in proper attire to enter or exit.
You can see through the plastic bubble to the people standing at the windows. Their eyes filming over and their skin becoming scaly, covered in a black slime.

They stowed the mermaid body in the back of a windowless van. Taking it for further testing.
I watched as they loaded her into a small tank. She looked familiar. Maybe one of the mermaids from Brooklyn.

Questioning the CDC and the police, the landlord and some of the tenants I was able to reach, I still don’t know how she ended up in the water tower.

November 11, 2014: The Red Hook Rusalkas.

There is a pilgrimage happening to Halleck Street in Brooklyn.
Hundreds of Brooklynites are making their way to the Henry Street Basin- and jumping in.

You can hear the humming and singing from the corner of Bay and Clinton Streets.
A soft, sweet hum – melodic and forlorn, drawing people to it from all over Red Hook.

The moon gives the basin plenty of light. You can see young, pale girls dancing around on top of the water. Men pouring over the edge to reach them, falling into the water, never coming back up.

I hear the names of men. I hear my name. They want me to join them. They call to me and sing to me.
The floodlights the police have set up illuminate the bodies floating out into the Gowanus Bay.

I move closer to the edge and one of the women swims ups to me. Her hair is light, green, her skin pure white.
She’s wearing a simple, white gown stained with what looks like old blood and rust.
She smiles at me, showing rows of sharp teeth. Calling my name and singing, pushing the water from her long hair.
She leans out of the water and kisses me, grabbing me by the jacket and pulling me towards the water, then she stops.

Oh, you’ve been claimed by the Queen. I can feel her mark on you.
Next time you see her, tell her Cathy Sue says hello.

She waves and dips back under the water.
Police with headphones pull back the captivated Brooklyn men, leading them away from the Basin.
Pushing everyone one back as far as they could then detonating something underwater.
The mermaids screeched and were thrown back. The bubble pulse pushing the majority of them further underwater and out into the bay.

Three of them, at the edge of a spotlight, surfaced and watched as paramedics treated people.
They slowly sank as the Henry Street Basin became red and thick.