Sorry this took so long! Life has been completely crazy lately. I'll do my best for regular updates from now on!

Chapter 5: Death Has No Gaze

She woke because she was too warm. The exact opposite of what woke her last time. Mabel stretched against the warm, soft surface, thinking of how nice it was to sleep in a soft bed and toasty sheets, even if it was Bill's bed. He had gotten the tear he needed from her, maybe now she would be able to get away.

"I know you're awake." Bill said from his place next to the bed.

So much for getting a bit more sleep, Mabel sighed and opened her eyes, looking over at the hunter. He had an array of little items spread out on the nightstand next to the bed, most of them things she didn't recognize. She assumed they were things he needed, otherwise he wouldn't have them. Just like he needed her. What purpose could she still give him?

"Morning." She mumbled, rubbing her eyes. She stretched her legs once more, loving the feeling of the sheets on her bare legs.

"You like having those back?" He asked, pulling the sheets back to look over her legs.

Mabel nodded, looking at her legs. They had more muscle than she remembered them having, but she figured that would come with age and how her tail had more uses than just her legs. She was almost always swimming when she was in the water.

Mabel flinched for a moment as she stretched, feeling a burning sensation in her left foot. That wasn't normal. Mabel pulled her foot into a better position, seeing the mark of the piercing that he imbedded in her tail. It went through the middle of her foot, and she was amazed that she hadn't seen it before. Bill let out a whistle when he saw the inflamed and irritated wound.

"Looks bad." He commented. Mabel glared, crossing her arms before she tried to get up. The pain, now that she was aware of it, seemed worse than she had ever felt before. She could put hardly any weight on her foot, and leaned heavily against the bedpost.

"This is all your fault." Mabel muttered, trying to stumble to the bathroom. She didn't get far before Bill was by her side, picking her up into his arms.

"Put me down! Why do you have this thing about picking me up?" Mabel struggled immediately, trying to get away but his grip was like iron. He didn't even seem bothered by her struggling, bringing her to the bathroom.

"Oh my god, you're so annoying." Bill grumbled, setting her on the counter in the bathroom. Once she was settled he let her go, and instead reached under the counter, getting out some bandages for her.

He haphazardly wrapped her foot, not caring for her pain or what was actually needed for her foot. She batted his hands away, wrapping her own foot and letting herself wince and whine as she thought about the damage Bill had done to her.

"I told you not to do that." She muttered and shook her head. Bill scoffed, picking her up once more despite her claims and irritation that she was being held once more.

Bill rolled his eyes, taking her to his favorite room in the house he had. He already knew she would hate it, and was quite excited to see her reaction. He found that in his time being human, hunting was such a wonderful pastime. He didn't get that nickname for nothing, and it was a rightfully earned title. Bill opened the door to the room with his hip, looking at her to gauge her reaction when he showed her the contents. He was not disappointed.

The trophies he had collected over his time being human were placed in this room. He had the head of almost every creature decorating the walls, complete with the type of creature and the date he shot it on. He had everything, from seers and bears, to gnomes and unicorns. The moment Mabel realized what she was looking at she let out a high pitched shriek, like any normal person would have. Bill was not normal though, and just entered the room with a chuckle.

"What? You monster!" Mabel pounded against his chest, trying to get away. There wasn't anywhere to go though, as he held her firm and shut the door behind them. He wasn't even bothered by her struggling or the pounding on his chest; she was weak in comparison to him.

"We've established that. Demon." He moved over to the couch he had near his desk, plopping her down on it. Before she could even think about following him he went over and locked the door, keeping her from escape.

She stumbled towards the window when she heard the click of the lock on the door. It didn't budge, and she grew more frantic, banging on the glass in hopes of breaking it. Bill shook his head, grabbing her and yanking her from the window and to the ground. Mabel cried out, but he held no concern for her.

"This is where you'll be staying from now on." He said flatly. "This is my trophy room, as you can tell." It was the only room in the house infused with magic.

Upon turning human, and being in the wrong person's body at the wrong time, Bill found his magic was severely limited. For seeing an infinite number of outcomes and an infinite number of universes, he did not see this happening when it did. He was a demon, he wasn't meant to be affected by stupid spells and magic water. He had managed to figure out how to summon little magic to his hands, but it wasn't nearly to the level that he was used to. He could barely make a spark of fire appear on his fingers. He had done a lot of work though, pouring all of his magic into this room. Since Mabel was no longer confined to the bathtub, it was here she would stay.

"I want to go home, let me out." She demanded. Bill rolled his eyes, moving to his desk and flipping through a couple items. It was starting to get annoying, how she was always begging for that.

"I won't say it again." He snapped. "This is your home now. You'll stay in this room, and you will behave." He gave her a hard look. "Do you understand, siren?"

Mabel crossed her arms, going to try to open the door even though she knew it was locked. He couldn't really expect her to stay in this room. It reeked of death, and the eyes of the creatures he killed, they followed her. They seemed so accusing, and all Mabel could hear were their questions of why she had never stopped Bill, why she never thought to care about the hunter before this. Mabel placed her forehead against the cold wood of the door, unable to look up into the stares of the creatures.

"Not here, I'll stay anywhere but here." He didn't even care that she was upset, that she was near tears and shaking once more. Now that he had gotten a tear out of her, more seemed willing to come. She wouldn't let them fall, not for Bill.

"You don't get a choice." Bill muttered, throwing a couple logs on the fireplace so he could start a fire. "If I wanted your opinion I would have asked for it. The only reason I let you sleep in my bed last night was because I was too tired to get up."

It wasn't because of the guilt, or the irritation of her. He had simply thought the best solution was to put her there until the morning. Now he was regretting the kindness he had shown her.

"I can't stay in this room!" Mabel practically screeched as Bill finished setting logs and lit the fire up with his lighter. Humans had such curious inventions, and his favorite was the portable lighter. The power of flames in the palm of one's hand, he adored it.

"Why not?" He actually sounded a little offended by that. This was his favorite room, after all, and to insult it felt like a personal attack on himself. He knew she was upset by the decaying and stuffed animal heads, but it couldn't be all that bad.

"It reeks of death!" Mabel placed a hand over her nose as though she could really smell it. Which to her panicked mind she could. She could smell the blood on the carpet and the fear in this room.

She had never been squeamish about blood and death in the past. She had been the one to help Stan decorate more taxidermied animals so they could become attractions in the shack. It was only after turning into a mermaid that she had more of a sense of danger, more of a fear placed in her. Every instinct right now was screaming that Bill was a very bad man, she needed to get away before he hurt her too.

"Complaining gets you nowhere." Bill muttered, reaching under the desk and pulling out a jar of eyes. Of course he stuffed heads up there contained glass eyes, but the eyes in the jar were the real ones from the animals.

"You're horrible." Mabel muttered, refusing to budge from her place by the door. She was running off pure adrenaline and fear, even the pain in her foot was dulled.

"Tell me something I don't know." Bill snapped back. "Now will you shut up? I'm trying to work."

Sure enough, he had a wide variety of items set before him. A batch of unicorn hair, the jar of eyes, a black, shiny oil, and the vial containing her tear. Mabel was once again struck by curiosity of his need for a simple tear.

"Why do you need a mermaid tear?" She asked, sliding down to the floor. She was hungry, and tired, but she wouldn't admit that to the hunter. She rubbed her hurt foot with her hand, trying to work a bit of feeling into it that wasn't pain.

"None of your business." He replied back. Now it was Mabel's turn to roll her eyes. She wanted him to keep talking, to distract her from the dead creatures who still had their accusing glares set on her.

"It's my tear." She said after a moment. "I can take it back."

"You can't take back tears, little siren." He grabbed a pen, starting to write down on a sheet of paper. He had her there, and she didn't mind so much as long as he kept talking.

"Why do you need it anyways? It's just a tear." Mabel asked again, eyes down as she felt she couldn't lift her eyes. Everything was still staring at her.

"Will you be quiet? I can't concentrate with you talking." He still didn't answer her question.

Mabel gave a huff, but quieted down, eventually getting up to move and sit in front of the fire. Being a creature with such an element as water, the warmth was nice even if the flame was a bit disturbing to be around. She didn't bother to pull a chair up, just sitting near the fireplace on the ground, watching the flames dance.

She didn't know how long she stayed there for, watching the flames and listening to the crackle of logs and the scratch of Bill's pen against paper. She didn't think she could sleep in such a room that had death wrapped all around it. Yet, as though put under a spell, Mabel found herself falling asleep, curled up on the ground with images of the dancing fire entering her dreams.