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Your crew is dead.

You are bound to the ship’s mast.

Your ship is motionless, save for the gentle rocking of the waves. The sirens’ torn, exposing clothing is covered in seawater and blood. They slowly stand and approach you, teasing you as you fruitlessly struggle against your binding.

The first siren 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, 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.

Classic?

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