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In a fit of protective rage, you rush toward the sirens. As you approach, the music grows louder, and you grow faster. Your rage turns to desire.

The first siren you can reach cradles your body. Her flesh, although it appears soft and innocent, is slimy as though covered in mucus. As her exposed breasts draw close to your skin, and you feel the pinpricks of countless scales.

Her mouth is at your ear just as the quintet reaches a harmonious climax.

Her lips caress your neck, and there is a release of warm liquid.

You are dead. The End.

First Blood

Perhaps another path will let you survive The Siren’s Symphony.