Copyright © 2011 by William R. Mistele. All rights reserved. 


                    The Mermaid Assassin




An aspect of the modern fairy tale is that there is nothing to believe.  You get to decide for yourself how to interpret the story.  I put all my cards on the table.  I tell you straight out that only God knows for sure who is a mermaid and who is human.  All I can do is present my observations and the details of my interviews.  

   I say the same to the women I interview.  I tell them, “I have no way of understanding the abilities you possess. Nothing in world literature or religion or in the experience of any of the masters of the earth can account for the things you can do.  Great Swamis may train for thirty or forty years or divine visions may be delivered into the hands of prophets.  But what you have is a gift you brought with you when you entered this world. 

   “So I turn to mythology and I write fairy tales to account for what can not be understood by any current system of interpretation.”

   All the same, what I write is what I see. I see the woman as once having been a mermaid. She now dwells among us in disguise. In some cases, her original nature has been compromised through her contact with human beings. 

  My job is to find a way for mermaids as well as human beings to recapture and celebrate the innocence, purity of love, and profound perception into feelings and heart that these beings possess within their own realm.  Telling this story is a first step for finding and uniting with the love that has been missing from the human race for ages and eons of time.


Short Autobiography


I enjoy the rhythm of the waves and the drops of spray splashing on my face as the hull surges into the trough and breaks through the next wave’s crest.  The ocean surrounds me.  The wind gusts and shifts and I trim the sail in response.  The wind and I are like two lovers who blend in harmony as we dance.

   Sailing out here by myself on the ocean there are no conflicts--on the open ocean nothing changes. The days and months and decades—the ocean is always the same.

   But the truth is that I do not think of my past as past.  It is like I am standing still. I am not going forward. I am now.  There is no “I was” or “I will be,” only “I am here now.”

    And that is how I felt long ago when I fled from Atlantis.  My story has conflict and resolution.  It has plot and movement.  But for me, time, like the ocean, does not move forward.  The flow of events in the outer world does not change who I am inside.  

    I like to sleep by the beach to be close to water.  It washes away everything bad and all tension leaves me so I feel only peace.  Being under the full moon is like putting a battery charger into a wall socket--I feel recharged.

   These things are not surprising.  As a child, I loved the water. I would stay in the bath for six hours and sometimes more.  I would sometimes fall asleep with my mouth and nose just above the surface.

   On the one hand, I hate thinking about myself as being different from other people.  I would like to think that at most I am maybe a strange kid.  Maybe some of the things I do are a little odd.  I am a bit lonely, boring, and misunderstood.  I would like to think there is nothing more to it.

   But on the other hand?  I do not know if I am human.  I do not like thinking about myself as one because the things I do seem so natural—things others can not understand or accept.  For example, why would anyone want to hurt someone else?  And why do people not accept the good and the bad in their lovers?  Isn’t love supposed to be without conditions?  Isn’t always loving and supporting the other person a normal thing to do? 

   There are other things.  I am not talking about the fact that I like to sit in the dark by myself and that I can see in the dark.  It has more to do with my empathy.

   When someone around me is experiencing an intense, heavy emotion, I spontaneously feel the other’s sadness. I will cry wearing myself out and then fall asleep.  If the emotions are too strong or coming from too many people at once I may even pass out. 

   I laugh at myself as I say this but I am like a reverse vampire.  I do not take others’ energy to restore myself.  Rather, I take their aches and pain into myself and heal them in the process.  I do this spontaneously. I have no control over it. 

   But there is more.  I enter others’ memories and then I live those memories as if they are my own.  I am back in time inside the other person’s body. 

  I call it “watching a movie” except I am an actor on set playing the part of the other person.  A man tells me he is depressed because his wife has left him.  Instantly, I am inside his mind watching what actually happened.  She says to him, “You are worthless.” I hear her words. I see her face.  I feel her slap me. I recall what happened with equal or better clarity that the person’s own recollection.

   Although this entering the other’s memory can take place in a moment, for me the experience can go on for hours.  I can not make it stop. 

    The  empathy began when I was seven years old.  At that time I was raised by my grandparents.  My mother was rarely around.  She still does not like me.  Her words, “I wish you were never born.  Having you has ruined my life.”

   When my grandfather died, I went to the funeral and could feel what everyone around me was feeling.  Because I was upset that he died, he came to me that night in a dream to calm me down. He showed me where he was.  It was the prettiest place on earth—so peaceful and happy.  He told me I was the most open and receptive of all the family members.   

   He visits me in dreams and warms me about danger and lectures me about all sorts of things.  We also argue. My body is asleep but my mind is awake.  When we have been arguing all night I will wake up in the morning and feel like I had not slept at all. 

   He tells me things such as that a certain person is going to hurt me or someone else.  He even studies some of my friends to see if they have a good heart.  For me, my grandfather is far more alive now than he was when he was still living.    

   But I never knew when he will come to talk to me.  He does not come when I try to contact him. 

  One time he told me to call 911 because my grandma, who was still alive, had just had a heart attack.  I called 911 and they broke down the door to her apartment and found her lying on the floor.  She had had a heart attack just as he had said.

   It is not just my grandfather I talk to. I talk to other departed people also.  With some the communication is mind to mind without words or thoughts.  With others, I talk to them exactly the same as I talk to living people.  Some seem trapped here close to our world and unable to move on.  Like the ghost who is attached to the used dresser I moved into my room.  The ghost looks through all of my things and comments on my clothes. He will not tell me anything about himself.  Because of his annoying comments, I can no longer change clothes in that room. 

   I do not easily trust people because of all the bad experiences I have had with them.  Men have betrayed me because they are selfish, but what they want has always been obvious.  Women are another matter.  They have been mean and cruel for no reason whatsoever.  But I still love them and even when my friends are treacherous and betray me, I still remain friends with them. 

  When I meet new people I can tell the first moment I see them, at their first word, if they are dangerous.  When one of my friends introduced me to another girl, I told my friend later that this woman would hurt her.  I wish I had been wrong.  But it turned out the other woman spread nasty rumors about my friend.  My friends think I am judgmental when I warn them in this way.  But I am never wrong about these things.


                                      My Atlantean Incarnation


In my original nature I was a mermaid who had the vibration of Angel Falls—the highest falls on earth.  I was pure, flowing, life giving, healing, and renewing. I was the joy and the ecstasy of being alive—full of rainbows and sparkling light.  I was trust and innocence—water falling, letting go to into the embrace of air and space.  And so you can imagine the disaster that awaited me when I began to associate with the human race.  

   During the last age of Atlantis, there was a time of peace. Atlantis was like the center of the universe—people from many different lands journeyed there.  In one outlying land, there was great underlying conflict.  But the Atlanteans frowned on war. They had an air of authority and magical power that enabled them to hold in check those who wished to lead armies to victory over their foes.

  Still, the human soul has beneath its surface a seething, raging hunger for power and an implacable hatred of whatever interferes with the attainment of its goals.  In this one land, the science was weak and the magic was not the equal of the Atlanteans. But there were traditions many centuries old in which mages trained for a life time to master their magical arts. 

   There was a small city of several thousand individuals that was dedicated to spiritual pursuits.  It had different societies within it.  Some were run by women, but most were governed by men.  It was a lose federation composed of groups with different agendas.  But they worked together for common goals.  It is not just technology and industry that can motivate and enrich a community.  Knowledge of the spiritual worlds also has a binding and uniting influence within a society. 

  One day an advanced adept from this community sat by the sea.  And he saw me. It was not as if I was on the beach or even hundreds of miles away.  I was on the inner planes. 

  Yet he saw me because when he looked at the sea he saw its life and its inner vibration.  He understood that the sea itself is a magical realm with many kingdoms within it.       

  His eyes were opened and he became filled with a sense of beauty, love, and peace unlike anything he had ever felt before.  He sat there for several hours without moving.  He had no desire to do anything else than to immerse himself within these feelings and let their harmony flow through him.

  But as is the nature of human beings inevitably they desire to share their experiences with another.  And so he refocused his eyes so that they would perceive what he wanted—a living being who embodied these feelings of wonder and love.  Put simply, he wanted a friend and a lover, a woman who had the sea alive within her. 

  And so his eyes fell upon me.  I began to materialize in front of him on the beach.  Call it a mermaid-mage encounter. This encounter is now part of the mermaid archives that record all of the experiences of all mermaids on earth.

    For him my skin was like moonlight and water, the color of emeralds and the blue sky mixed together.  He placed his palm upon my arm and the human part of his mind was gone.  He crossed over.

   How long he dwelt within my realm he could not tell, for there all that exists is love. There is no sorrow, separation, or loss to mark the turning of the clock. But since the vibration of water was weak within his soul, he had to finally let go.

  Once again he sat upon the beach though still within a state of revelry. Yet he felt what no great master should ever have to feel—he felt incomplete. 

    As he walked back to his study, the scent of the sea was moist upon his cloak. And the sounds of waves breaking, the white spray and foam upon the sand seemed to flow around his feet in every step he took.

   Once in his study he made some tea with a shot of alcohol like mead mixed in.  And then he sat by the window and began to contemplate.  He relived the experience on the beach and then reached a conclusion.  These are his very thoughts.

   This will not do.  Who can go on like this?  Having such beauty and love so real that I can taste and touch it.  And yet at the same time it is so remote from my life that it is like being in love with a woman who lives on the other side of the world. 

  And then thinking of me he said to himself, She and this blessed realm are the same thing. They carry the same vibration.  When I leave her presence I feel I am only half alive.  Compared to her realm, the world in which I live is in some mysterious way half dead.

  The remedy is obvious.  She should dwell in my world, here with me.  I do not recall anything like this occurring before in the history of my magical order.  Yet I am sure if I visualize this mermaid in the body of a woman it will come to be.  A way will be found. The gate is already open.  There is no one to dissent or object.  There are no rules and no one to enforcer rules even if there were.  I am free to take what I want.

   You have to understand the level of concentration the mage had mastered.  Whether his eyes were closed or open, he could recall nearly anything he had ever experienced—every sight, smell, taste, touch, and sound or conversation as if it were occurring again right now. 

   And like the Atlanteans, he was used to working with a crystal ball.  As he stared at the crystal it would begin to flare and burst like a volcano erupting but not with lava but rather with dazzling light.  And then he would gather that light and concentrate it into the image of whatever wish he wanted fulfilled.  And according to the degree of difficulty of the desire, within an appropriate time fame the object of his desire would manifest.  He did this now with the me—he imagined the goal as real right now—he visualized me right now in his study by his side.        

   There months later, a woman in the community was about to die.  Inexorably, I was drawn to that dying woman.  When the girl died, I entered her body trying to revive her.  Healing is a way of manifesting love.  But her soul had departed.  But the body survived.  When the body woke, I was alive inside.  Shortly after, according to the mage’s visualization, I was by his side.

   How did this feel to me?  I am of water.  My very being is to love and to flow.  Enlightenment itself is in knowing how to let go.  And love is being one with another without limitation or the need for definition. In love, there are no boundaries to defend. 

   When the mage entered my realm he was awkward and off balance like a fish out of water.  He was like a sponge that wanted to absorb and take in but only a tiny amount of love could get inside of him. 

  When he had me materialize upon the beach, it was okay.  I still had the sea inside of me.  I could sense his world where he dwelt.  They use chemistry, physic, and fiery will to bring new things into being.  But when it came to the song of life, though the music is vast, they only knew a few notes and cords. 

   No wonder he felt half dead when he left my presence. The sea was not in his dreams and love was not in command of his heart.                

   Entering the girl was as easy as water flowing from one form into another.  Yet part of being enchanted is that you do not realize it is happening until the spell is broken.  The magical concentration he was using to draw me to his side was strong enough to change my perceptions of what was occurring. I felt everything I was doing was natural and that all actions were of my own volition.  

   When a mermaid is in a human body, she is always in disguise. She may not understand what others think or why they do what they do, but she always knows what they feel.  

  The body I entered had memories and habits imprinted upon its brain.  I was free to use them the way an actor uses a script in order to perform her part in a play.  I actually had no difficulty mastering human discourse. 

   In no time at all I was saying things like “That’s amazing,” “Could you explain that to me again?” “Why don’t I cook something to eat and I’ll call you when it is ready,” “Tell me how your work went today,” and “Here, let me place my hands on your head and take away your tension.”

    Interacting with human beings is as simple as keeping my thoughts, words, and actions within the narrow and well-defined range of their brain vibrations.   But in myself I remained unchanged.  The sea was still within me.  Nothing was different.  I had merely taken this other form which required little more effort than putting on a robe.   

    I lived with him for four years.  And then things changed. The land was on the verge of war.  Strong factions were contending for power.  I could feel the tension in the air.

   Until this point in time, the mage had shown me to only a few of his friends.  I was his secret mistress of magical bliss.  Some treasures are too special to share with the world at large.

   But the political conflict reached a climax.  The mage was a member of a ruling council that consisted of three. The enemy leader had gone to Atlantis to seek assistance.  He and others wanted to bring Atlantean education and institutions into their land so as to make it an Atlantean colony.  This idea the mage could not stand.

   And so it occurred to him to use my beauty to accomplish his ends.  A mage can no more attack another mage than a cloud can cause damage to another cloud by hurling lighting at it.  But there are other ways to destroy an enemy.  In the wrong hands, love itself is a tool of destruction.  

    It is nothing for me to get inside of another person and sense the other’s deepest needs. And then I configure my responses in such a way so as to offer complete gratification.  It is not about lust. It is simply an act of sharing and caring.  All mermaids are masters of the art of becoming one.

   But the mage knew he could not send me as I was.  I did not have a human aura.  Anyone who is sensitive would immediately realize I was not a human being.  And so the mage had to change my aura.  He had to somehow disguise me so I appeared not just in form but also with the soul of a human being.

   Acting as a representative of humanity, this is what he did to me.  These are things in which some wizards are masters.  He bound me to the element of earth in such a way that I could no longer see into the mermaid realm.  My five senses were limited to perceiving only in the physical world.

   He bound me to the element of air in such a way that my mind was clear.  But I could not think any thoughts that ran counter to the mission he assigned to me.

  He bound me to the element of fire in such a way that through any means at my disposal I was to destroy his enemy.  It is called a Gheas. An implacable will was placed inside of me.  Though under his control, I now possessed a small amount of his own will and power.

   He bound me to the fifth element of akasha. In this way he imbued me with a human soul.  From now on I would incarnate as a human being.  He did this so I could not easily defect and return to my own realm. 

  And as for water, my own element? He let me keep my superhuman empathy.  But the awareness of love that is everywhere in every moment he took away from me.  If your love is pure you are forever free regardless of your form or your destiny.  In doing this, he took away my inner connection to the sea.  All these things he did to fashion me into a tool, a wand of power that could now destroy his enemy.  

    Actually Atlantis had its own guild of assassins.  Though expensive, he could have hired one of them.  But why outsource the job when what you have at hand is far better than anything that guild had ever created or imagined?
   Some would say that converting a mermaid into an assassin is lame brained to say the least.  It is like taking gold and diamonds and throwing them into quicksand or mud.  But the mage was not a complete fool. He knew what he was doing. A mermaid queen in the body of a woman is the most perceptive creature in this galaxy. In an instant, she can sense and be inside of any person on this planet. 

   A mermaid like me, though not a queen, has the same abilities but to a lesser degree.  Even before I began my journey, I could read the heart and mind of the man who I was to assassinate.  In all of history, there never been any human assassins who possessed even one tenth of my capacity.         

    I enjoy the rhythm of the waves and the drops of spray splashing on my face as my small craft sails toward Atlantis.  The ocean around me—in whatever life I exist, the ocean always brings me peace.  No mortal mage, however great, will ever be able to take this away from me. 

    The sailboat that carries me has a deck that is round like a plate that extends over the hull.  It is carved with groves that resemble a coiled serpent with the serpent’s head at the bow. But the hull itself that rides in the water is similar to the construction of a Viking ship.  It is only about eight meters long.  The tiny sales are shaped like an arrow head and often part of the sale reaches down to the water.  

   I love sailing at night.  I can see in the dark.  Yet tonight there is moonlight. 

   In moments like this time no longer exists.  There is no need to identify with mermaids or human beings.  There are no conflicts and no nightmares or dreams.  Though I have been enchanted, mesmerized, hypnotized, and bound to another against my will, a part of me is forever free.

  In this moment, all that exists are me, the craft, the waves, the wind, the night sky, and the sea. Perhaps it is the stress I am under, but I hear the sea speak to me.  She says, “Child.  By divine grace, human beings are here for a short time and then they are gone.  But you and I are like the wind and the waves.  We will dance together like this again and again forever.”

    The first thing I noticed after I docked and tied up my ship was the tiny windows and doors in the buildings.  The windows were like a semi circle or a circle cut down the center horizontally so only half of the circle was there to look out of. The roofs did not seem to fit on the buildings like they were a different design.  And in the corners where the building met the ceiling there were special decorations like wave patterns.  There were no pyramids.  The buildings were of marble and of every other kind of stone.  And there were sculptures were all over.   

   As I walked down the street, it seemed that Atlantis was like the center of the world.  People were here from everywhere.  It was peaceful and yet I saw urban, rural, and tribal people mingling together on the same road.

    But I was not sent here to linger and observe.  I had one task—to find the man I was to dispatch.  I could sense where he was.  I scouted out his location and movements.  He had three body guards that followed him everywhere.  These men were tall, quick, and strong.   

   Some things a woman just knows how to do.  You brush your hand through your hair or drop your chin toward your lower shoulder as you glance with a slight smile out of the corner of your eyes.  You place your weight on your left hip with the other leg bent while you rest your hand on your thigh, your head and shoulders also leaning to the left side.   

  Even from across the room, if you catch his eye for a moment his brain extrapolates.  In a microsecond whether he is aware of it or not, his body feels that the two of you are joined, that he is inside of you.  Like an addict with a drug, he wants to recapture that high.

   All of this was child’s play for me.  Off the shelf seduction technology.  But add to this--I place my soul within his body and he becomes like an iron filing in the presence of a powerful magnet.  He could not resist my power of attraction.           

   Things move quickly. Within the hour I have him in bed and am having sex with him.  He kisses me, but for him the kiss is a kiss of death.  As many have done before and after me, I have placed a protective layer like wax upon my lips.  And over this I have painted with a small brush a deadly poison.  He literally dies in my arms.  I do not need to check his heartbeat.  I can sense the life depart from his body.

   This plan of action was my own creation. No one had told about it.  Perhaps women instinctively know how to use poison. 

    I climbed down from the balcony and made my escape. But before I left that night, I climbed up on to the top of a building and spent three hours staring down at the capital city. 

     There were sounds in the distance of laughter and music and the cheer of both soft and loud festivals.  The words came to me from someone else’s mind—“Atlantis: Fair, fair, beautiful beyond compare, Oh wondrous land were the gods still walk, their footsteps echoing through the hills.”

   Who that has ever been here can ever forget the experience?  Here is a city that is blessed by the divine world.  Every good thing that can be given to humanity has been given into the hands of these people.

  The fire in the streets at night that lit the city are not just fire.  The fire has a secret warmth within it like the songs of hearts that overflow with joy.  And there is also a touch of mermaid innocence.  Many people here can go about their day without having to worry about their safety or having to think about how to preserve, defend, or extend their wealth.       

     For three hours I stared down at the lights of the city basking in its glow, letting its warmth fill my soul.  But my time is up.  I have to flee my life. 

  I am soon back at sea. I journey riding on a large ship heading for a distant island.  The ship departs with the early morning high tide.  I do not remember anything further from this incarnation.    

   In a few days I will be drafted into the army.  I will then see what job the powers that be have assigned me to fulfill in this life time.