“I’ve heard many songs throughout my previous life, but the one that sticks with me the most is the fire’s song.”
“It starts off slow, humming a few notes quietly before quickly picking up the pace and increasing in volume. Those soft murmurs become high pitched wails that build into a terrifying crescendo.”
“That’s when the tune spreads out to everyone within earshot. They try to run and hide, but the cacophony has advanced too far. They’re forced to perform along with the fire’s anthem of pain and misery.”
“The crackling of the flames harmonize with the screams of terror and cries for help to form a torturous melody that kills nearly everyone that partakes in it’s lethal hymn.”
“Fire, much like El Mariachi Muerte, only knows songs of death and destruction. They bring about the unfortunate ends of anyone that happens to be listening to their infernal ballads while destroying anything that gets in their warpath.”
“Much like the flames, you start playing slow, strumming a few chords on that guitar and humming a few notes before quickly becoming out of control. The plucking of strings quickly turns feverish and the hums transform into wails, building into that all too familiar crescendo.”
“That’s when your ballad circulates out to the masses. They try to run and hide, but they all heard your performance, and they’re doomed to perish like everyone before them.”
“You relish in the screams of agony and cries for help, using them as backing noise for your latest hymn. They’re forced to play alongside you as nearly all of them die far before their time.”
“Why do I say nearly? Let’s just say that death came for me once, Mariachi. There was a song you played for me once back when those bastards tied me and my family up and burned our home to the ground with us inside.”
“I’ve screamed along with them as the fire licked at our skin and nerves. We’ve cried out for help along with the crackling of the flames to create an unintentional chorus of chaos.”
“As it kept playing however, it unintentionally set me free from my constraints and allowed me to escape. Despite the song of the blaze being meant for me, I was able to survive it, turning into the vindictive specter you see before you.”
“I’m probably the first to survive your song of carnage, Muerte, and I’m going to make sure that I won’t be the last. When we meet up in that ring, I’m going to put out your fire before it’s able to spread out of control.”
“Your slow, quiet murmurs will be all that you can muster as I prevent you from reaching your song’s crescendo. You’ll be the one screaming in pain and crying for help as I play my song of vengeance.”
“When I’m through, there will be no more songs of death and destruction. My family will be able to rest easy when they know you’re gone.”
“Be careful when playing your fiery songs. You just might get burned.”