The Seagull Man
written by: Marjorie Mallon
The inhabitants of Cave Birdie called him the Seagull Man because of his inclination to always wear grey and white clothes, with tiny, imperceptible black flecks, a form of camouflaging so he could blend into his cavernous, stone-rich environment. When he left his cave home, he went to the seashore. Tourists watched him, intrigued, as the seagulls flocked around, crowding in upon him, surrounding him as he fed them. Whereupon it was only possible to see and hear their beating outstretched wings. In this huddle of man and bird, he appeared to vanish until he jumped on his bike with the seagulls following close behind him.
The inhabitants of Cave Birdie knew of the Seagull man’s reputation, his legend, and avoided contact with him. There were many innocent rumours circulating that he dwelled in a cave on a quiet, undetected shoreline, fishing, collecting edible algae to eat, but…
There were other rumours too. Terrible rumours: one involved a curious fellow who stumbled upon his cave. The Seagull Man regarded the fellow with such a contemptuous look that it invaded the man’s bones, sending a bitter, chill sea breeze deep within him. He escaped with his life, but that wicked, debilitating breeze lingered on and on, leaving him shivering in bed for many days with an inexplicable sickness that never left him.
If male intruders dared to come, their visit was short-lived and terror-filled. Often turned away before the cave entrance itself, or upon entering, they ran away, disturbed by what they saw. The evil lurking in The Seagull Man’s eyes blazed in a diabolical, tormenting way. That evil rooted deep, so deep, that no one doubted it burrowed into his malevolent soul. People concluded he was dangerous; there was no way to change him. “Best stay away.” That’s what folks said.
But the gulls viewed the fellow altogether differently. They felt a strange affinity towards the strange man. His eyes were dark, but his soul soared high, especially after the adrenaline of a sudden kill. He was generous to the birds, often sharing his kills with the gulls. They flocked, diving, squawking in excitement, to sample the offered spoils, worshipping him, naming him as their saviour.
Before long, he turned his attention towards new pursuits and exquisite delicacies. Favouring delicate women whom he could pluck at will. He had an insatiable appetite for the conquest of lost, lonely, vulnerable women. Their bones littered his cave. Trophies, slender-limbed, well-proportioned skulls on display to deter unwelcome, terrified visitors.
One summer’s day, an unrelenting scorching heat made him fidget; the heat in his loins continued to grow, making him dizzy so much so that he took a cooling dip in his cave pool.
He sighed; the cave pool was one of his favourite places to unwind and refresh. On his way, he heard approaching footsteps. The echo became louder until he spotted this beautiful female walking nearby, interrupting his solitude, bringing the welcome aroma of the sea with her. He climbed out of the pool and hid behind a rock to watch her.
By the copious amounts of sand resting upon her skin, he could tell that she was different; the one the birds would love more than him. He should have mounted her, there and then, on his cave carpet, plucking the sand from her crevasses, filling her with his hardness, rocking her with the ardent force of his brutish desire. Instead, he waited, still hidden behind the rock, his dark eyes undressing her, as she lingered in his cave home.
Her steps were light, her limbs supple, vulnerable, and young. Blonde hair cascaded in curls down her back, carefree and untamed, except for one loose ribbon which he longed to pull and yank.
She tiptoed towards his cave pool, touching the water first with her hands and then with her feet. Meandering further into the cool water, she giggled, emitting a delightful sound as she splashed her face.
After a short while wading and splashing, she wandered further into his cave. He followed her at a safe distance, careful to keep his pace soft, light, and undetectable.
When she stumbled upon his bedroom with its unmade bed decorated with skeletal bones, she gasped, her hands flew to her mouth, stepping back. She paused for a moment, her fingertips trailing over the bones, touching them as if overcome by an intense reverie.
Then, she touched her own body, trailing fingertips across her bony shoulder blades and ribcage to the fine fabric that almost covered her breasts. Within moments, the heat in his loins became so intense that he came out of hiding, revealing himself to her.
To his surprise, she removed the straps of her figure-hugging white dress, slipping it off her. It fell to the floor, revealing her exquisite curves. Next, the ribbon in her hair she pulled, gently and without pausing. She lay upon his bed rather than under his covers, as if she was goading him to come closer, to touch her bare skin.
Her naked form glistened, tempting him even though the cave light was especially low at his bedside.
The ache to have her grew as he came towards her, intending to join her there on his bed. She didn’t cry out in shock or try to run away. Instead, she smiled. He didn’t hesitate. His lips didn’t hesitate. They pressed upon her plump red lips as his hands explored between her legs, seeking her salty wetness.
Normally, he’d place his knife nearby to end her life after he filled her with his seed. Instead, his body lay with hers in a gentle, exquisite union that surprised him. She uttered not one word or protest. Instead, a moan left her lips, but within her eyes there was a darkness that lingered, matching his.
As she continued to stare into his dark eyes, he climaxed with an intense guttural moan that equalled hers.
Afterwards, she threw her head back and laughed. It was a strange, high-pitched sound. Her eyes darkened, becoming beady as she said.
“I am their queen, your queen.”
He knew what she meant, and yet he didn’t care. Overcome by longing, he had to taste her salty lips again. Desire rocked his body with an intense urge. He killed any further words with a kiss that must have stolen her breath away.
But he drew back in horror when he felt her mouth harden underneath the pressure of his kiss with a brute force that shocked him. His eyes grew wide with terror as he saw her sensual mouth had become a hard seagull’s beak. Her warm arms now were huge wings that squeezed him in a deadly, relentless embrace, which became more and more suffocating.
Her intimate love area squeezed tight around him, making him scream out in unbearable, alternating, pleasing, crushing pain.
“Please stop!” He said, as his breath constricted, blocking, choking his windpipe.
She kissed him in response, a sharp peck which delved into his mouth to bite off his taut tongue. Unable to protest, bleeding, he surrendered to her will. Her eyes softened, and her excruciating grip relaxed as he lay in her tender, loving wings.
“Do not fret, you will soon be one of us!” she cooed, caressing him.
Her fellow seagulls came forward, hopping closer and closer, flying, or flapping their wings, settling within inches of them, observing the pair.
The Queen’s dark magic worked its way throughout his body, broken, but now to be reborn. The cave filled with more and more seagulls, perching on rocks, others approaching on webbed feet, walking towards them, all with an unnatural gleam in their eyes.
They surrounded him, squawking, picking at the choice scraps of bloody, discarded tongue which had been in his mouth. The Seagull man groaned as his body buckled, intolerable pain wrenching his limbs as he sprouted magnificent wings, which were as dark and mottled as his eyes.
The Queen and the Seagulls watched this transformation transfixed, waiting… for his change to be complete; at last, he stood at his full height. The Queen’s eyes gleamed with pride as she greeted him.
“Welcome,” she said, flying up in the air as she landed on what had once been his bone trophy bed. “Come! Share the bone throne with me. Try your fledgling wings. Fly. Come sit with me!”
The Seagull man tested his wings and found they were weight-bearing and strong. He flew over to join the Queen, accepting his fate without complaint.
Abandoning his human past to become the King of the Seagulls, he snuggled closer to the Queen, resting upon the dead bones of his former victims. The seagull subjects paid homage to their new King and Queen, squawking and squawking, as their cries filled the cave, hoping for a curious unfortunate to arrive, to honour this magnificent union with an especially succulent offering for their Majesty’s forthcoming coronation.
- The Seagull Man - March 23, 2026
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