The coldest oceans were filled with mermaids. Women with icy tails and eyes colder than the glaciers surrounding them infested the water, staining the waves with their pale skin and translucent hair. The mermaids never felt cold. They wore no clothes or mercy because both things were restrictive. They swam near the surface, poking their heads above the whitecaps in search of ships.
They were looking for men to snatch from the wooden walls slicing through the ocean. For Mel, there was nothing more satisfying than sinking her claws into warm flesh and dragging a flailing man under frigid waters. Sometimes she even took him through the ice, watching as he left a man-shaped hole through the frozen surface. Drowning him was the best part. She strangled him even though she didn’t have to but she liked to help the water do its job. Her transparent fingers curled around his warm throat, laughing as his spiralling limbs turned sluggish and still. She liked it best when the life left his eyes because only then could she peacefully pull out his heart and eat it.
The hatred for men was programmed inside the blue blood of all mermaids. Centuries ago, mermaids swam in all oceans. Some mermaids thought this was only a legend because no mermaids alive right now could remember these times. But Mel believed the stories. She could picture mermaids with brown skin and red hair swimming through waters warmer than the stars hanging above her head.
But then the men came with their ships and harpoons and barbed wire nets. The men filled the water like a disease, claiming territory that wasn’t theirs. Mermaid blood filled the water, blue and invisible to the men who ignored it.
Mermaids fled to the white waters. Their hair lost color, their skin was a thin, useless layer against the cold, letting their hearts freeze over. Any men who dared enter their icy haven were killed. Snatched, dragged, drowned, eaten, discarded. Small scale revenge compared to the sins of man.
Mel could see a ship on the horizon. In seconds, she cut through the water, doding icecaps and rocks. The ship was in front of her, a brown stain on her world of white. She could see the men on the deck, draped in furs and cold-red skin. Mel jumped out of the water. Men shouted in alarm. Her nails found warm flesh and she dragged it back down with her.
Grab the man, take him to the bottom of the ocean, strangle him, pull out his heart, eat dinner. It was routine by now but Mel  hadn’t eaten in weeks. She needed more so she went back up. There was a figure leaning over the railing of the ship. His head was covered in a hat and he was smaller than the others. He was wearing only one layer and his thin fingers gripped the railing in a death grip.
Mel jumped but the man stepped back. Her claws caught only the hat he was wearing. Mel fell back into the water and looked up to see a man with long red hair staring down at her. No, not a man. A woman. A woman with hair the color of the coral Mel’s ancestors talked about and eyes as warm as Atlantic waters. The woman smiled at Mel.
“Hello,” she said, draping her body over the railing, unafraid. Mel stared at her until the woman disappeared. She was gone for a while but then Mel saw another boat in the water. This one was smaller, low enough that the woman inside it could reach out and touch the ice with her fingers. Mel approached the rowboat, swimming slowly through the ice. The woman with red hair smiled and held out her hand. She was young and her fingers were soft and warm. Mel had never felt warmth before.
“You’re so cold,” the woman said, laughing. She ran her thumb over Mel’s fingers, her deep brown eyes staring into Mel’s ice blue ones. Mel took her other hand out of the water and held it up to the woman’s face, touching her cheek. Warm. Like the rest of her.
“We won’t hurt you, you know,” the woman muttered. “Just let us pass through and we’ll leave you alone.” But Mel didn’t want to leave her alone. Mel wanted to stay next to the woman’s fire hair and coal eyes forever. But she couldn’t. Mel blinked at the woman, capturing the memory of her face before disappearing into the water with a splash.
Mel swam through her icy ocean, sending a message to her species. A message of controversy and danger, a message that could kill all the mermaids if they weren’t careful. We have to forgive the men, she said. We have to forgive the men for the women.