Checkered Doll Corridor

Prayers echo through the city's corridors. The shattered world resonates with the bass, shaking the soul. A melody resonates with the curse. Ichi's voice tears through the night-a guitar solo of salvation and ruin. The wind howls from behind the rusty door. The black-eyed checkered doll "Ichi" slowly opens his eyes. A colorful electric guitar lies on the floor. The moment the strings are plucked, the world creaks. -The corridor begins to breathe. Rotten wooden walls, silky dust. A voice whispers at my feet, "It's not over yet." A trick door opens mockingly. Miasma vibrates the guitar strings. The moment I play, the shadows retreat. The sound exorcises, and the curse sounds. A twisted corridor, a recurring dream. Nauseating miasma. It collapses again and again, and then reappears. Red lights flicker, and voices overlap. Ichi simply looks forward. A riff resounds through the city's corridors. A melody that cuts through the curse. The darkness screams, and the walls crack. The guitar roars, and blood dances. A low, beautiful, roaring voice. -- "This sound..." "My Prayer" The mechanisms operate relentlessly. The tangled chains beat out a rhythm. Every time Ichi's fingers move quickly, The world crumbles little by little. But that's fine, until I save my master. Because the sound pierces the curse. The ceiling spins, the mirrors distort. A sound like electricity runs through. Her guitar cries out, "Get away!" Light tears through the darkness, and the corridors burst into flames. A prayer resonates in the city's corridors. Strumming the broken world. The bass vibrates the soul. A melody resonating with the curse. Ichi's voice tears through the night. --A guitar solo of salvation and ruin. The strings die away. The corridors fall silent, and the wind stills. Ichi smiles. "Lord, may the day come when I can sing again--"