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And to your pleasant surprise, the chords Ashley is playing on her guitar are actually oddly somber. You suppose it's fitting given the nature of the anomaly but you normally associate electric guitars with...energy. Excitement. Her chords are slow, somber, blending together with Adam's vocals perfectly.
Your own strumming is a bit too frantic to the almost church-like quality the other two are displaying but with some adjustment, you manage to control your strumming to match them. The surrounding sailors (and Benedict) can only watch on with equal measures of shock and appreciation for the song being played.
After what felt like hours (though more realistically ten minutes top), Adam finishes off with an almost ear piercingly high note. The moment he stops singing, you and Ashley finish strumming. Adam proceeds to get onto his knees and clasps his hands together, muttering the same words he was in his singing.
The many smiling faces once on the corpses have vanished completely, replaced with closed eyes and somber frowns. You're almost worried you fucked up somehow but...<span class="mu-g">something about their somber expressions comforts you to look at.</span>
"SO LONG SINCE WE'VE HEARD THAT CALL."
"SO LONG SINCE WE'VE HEARD SONGS FROM THE LAND."
"IF ONLY THAT WAS THE LAST THING WE HEARD."
"BEFORE OUR END."
"IF ONLY."
The corpses murmur and mutter amongst each other. You can't make out anything else besides those five sentences. You pity them, really. Endlessly lost souls doomed to float throughout the sea. This might be the first time in ages anyone has bothered to acknowledge them, let alone offer them something like this.
A weird thought crosses your mind. Most of the anomalies you've seen have been individual entities. A robot with a filming camera, a shadowy figure, an eyeball staring down at you, a mass of arms and legs hiding behind a dressing screen. Yet this thing? So many bodies.
Even if you wanted to try, you couldn't recognize any of their faces. Something wet runs down your face as you stare down at the corpses. There has to be tens of thousands in there at least. Is there anyone still left to remember who they once were?
<span class="mu-i">We only wanted a damn burial. No rest shall come for us now. Only a temporary reprieve.</span>
<span class="mu-i">You too will eventually join us. No matter how hard you try, you will join the pile.</span>
<span class="mu-i">How many bodies will be tied to you when your body fails? When you drown in your own bodily fluids?</span>
You glance at the pirate ship still tied to the S.S. FREEDOM. How many have you killed? How many will you continue to kill? Will your own mountain be smiling?
<span class="mu-i">Will anyone remember you when you die?</span>
"NiCole?" Benedict shakes your shoulder, snapping you out of whatever trance you got yourself into. Fuck, fuck. You best finish this up. As Adam finishes his prayer, you whisper towards the corpses below.
"Cry out for us. Tell us your stories. We shall listen." Your voice threatens to crack as you speak.
