Sirenhead
Day Eight of A Dozen Days of Magical Realism
Did this prompt surprise you? Did you think— that’s not even a real monster? Follow me for a minute. Not too deep in the woods, I promise.
Urban legends are magical realism in real time. Spontaneous, organic, natural, viral— they all start somewhere, with someone’s unbelievably campy story. We know they are fake, but they are just close enough to our reality to be a kind of doppelgänger, and they stick around.
The Monster Show: A Cultural History of Horror by David J. Skal invites us to consider how our monsters are reflections of our societies’ ills and anxieties. What, then, do the new monsters like Sirenhead have to say to us...?
Sirenhead
The first time I took my little son out on the lake, he was afraid of the water.
This was utterly unexpected because even at four years old, the boy swam like a fish when you put him in a pool, frolicked like an otter in the creek, held his breath like a pearl diver wiggling through that marvelous liquid dimension like a partially aquatic mammal. I thought he would adore the kayak, would take to it with whatever genetic predisposition seems to run in our dilute Welsh blood.
He started to tremble when we were about fifty yards out.
“Baby,” I said, “What in the world is the matter? It’s just water.”
“It’s dark water, Mommy. See.”
I peered over the side of the kayak. It was true, I realized. Black as ink. You couldn’t even see the minnows until they poked their mouths out, snatching the water bugs. But I’d been boating on this lake my whole life. There was nothing to worry about. I opened my mouth to say as much.
“And Mommy. The branches reach like claws.”
I closed my mouth and looked again. Also true. It’s why you couldn’t swim in this man-made lake; because the submerged trees posed a slight but significant danger of snagging and therefore drowning. Ink black, filled with claws. Okay, I could understand why it spooked my little guy. Time for redirection.
“Baby, look out at the hills. I’m going to take us around here, and you’ll see such a lovely forest. Don’t worry about the water.”
He looked where I pointed, warm body leaning back against my chest as I gently paddled us around the bend. The intoxicating scent of his blond curls under my chin mingled with the tang of lakeshore and the waft of vegetal breeze. He sighed deeply, like a contented puppy, and relaxed against me.
“Mommy, what’s that?” He sprang up, rocked the kayak slightly. I hooked a finger in his lifejacket.
“Just a—“ cell-phone tower, I was going to say, but the words dried in my mouth. It moved; it was walking along the ridge of the hills in loping strides. The lonely whoop of an emergency siren sounded in the distance, the very audiation of despair. Cold, suddenly, as gunmetal clouds swept over the gentle autumn sun. I wrapped my arms around my boy as the creature disappeared in the distance.
Children know. There is always reason to be afraid.
Your turn! Any other Sirenhead fans out there? Which new monster gets your gears spinning? Comment below, and if you need a refresher on the rules of this party game, check the invitation!
I don't know anything about Sirenheads, so I went with a different cryptid or two:
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Crystal shrieked in fear as the German Shepherd trotted up to her and began curiously sniffing at her stomach. Startled, the dog went back on his haunches and his owner began to tug him away on the leash. "I'm so sorry," Crystial's mom said as the little girl held onto her for dear life, tears streaming. "She has a dog phobia." That was the most common type of occurrence when it came to Crystal and any dog, from the tiniest to the biggest. Those fierce, sharp teeth, those clawed paws...there was nothing so terrifying.
Then the White Ones came.
Crystal was walking between her mom and dad, heading for the car after dinner at a restaurant to celebrate the end of the school year. Suddenly, white stars flew down from the sky and something loud made her ears ring. Blinking back spots, Crystal found herself swept up in her dad's arms and they were running and there was screaming. Suddenly they tumbled to the ground and Crystal rolled away, shaking her head to get rid of the dizziness. Her arms and legs were rubbed raw from the asphalt.
She looked over and her dad lay motionless. Above him stood a tall, pure-white figure with no face, only two large black bowls for eyes. There was fire shooting from what looked like its arms and people screamed in response. A hand grabbed Crystals arm and she was being pulled along by her mom. "Run, love, run! " Then there was more loud ringing and her mom fell down and didn't get up again.
Some primitive part of Crystal's brain hooked onto her mom's words and she ran. Ran and ran and there was fire around her, but there was a black area ahead. There was a short, stone wall and an arched gate and her tiny legs flew through the opening to hopeful safety. There were stones pockmarking the hills, with words on them that Crystal couldn't read yet. She found a big one, a tall pillar, and huddled behind it, arms hugging her knees. She rubbed her face which was wet and snotty and she cried.
Then she heard an animalistic whine and looked up. Her breathing, already heavy, hitched. Not two feet away stood a massive, black dog. It towered over her and all she could see were its glinting black eyes and red tongue hanging between sharp, white teeth. Crystal didn't move, could barely breathe. Then, to the side, she saw three of the White ones approaching, arms outstretched towards her. Crystal shrunk back against the stone and the tears began again.
Suddenly a wall of black obscured her vision and a murderous growl pierced the air. Before Crystal could blink twice, the dog was on the White Ones, sharp teeth gnawing, sharp claws tearing. The beings' fire could not touch the beast and then it was the White Ones screaming and laying motionless on the grass.
For a moment there was stillness. Then the dog trotted up to Crystal and laid down in front of her, whining, his tail wagging. Crystal looked from the dog to the White Ones, back to her rescuer. She heard more screaming and explosions in the distance, and it felt like a fire woke up in her chest. "There are more out there," she told the dog. The dog barked as if it understood her. "Will you help me?" she asked. The dog nodded his head and Crystal slowly moved to his side. Sitting on his back like she had seen people do with horses in the movies, she leaned over and held tight when he stood up. "Let's go," she whispered and the dog howled Grimly into the night.