AN: Dedicated once again to my personal Vash, and also to her undying and ever-beside-her-side Michelle the Midvalley the Hornfreak. I know you don't understand my music, but I hope that you at least like to hear it.
Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun, nor do I own the song 'Mercy Mercy (Mercy).'
Mercy Mercy
It was a simple song. He had mastered it way back when he had been new to the instrument. It was quick. Barely 45 measures in all; hardly half a sheet. He had played faster tunes, and he had played slower tunes, but he had always favored this one. Liked the name.
Mercy was the name; albeit killing was his game. But it made sense. Because it was a song to make you beg.
It was fast - it started out yelling. It said what was to come. Right away it sounded dangerous. Then it broke and mentioned that perhaps there was a chance of living. And if they hadn't been paying attention the first time, it would say it one more time:
It promised Mercy. And at that point everyone was listening. The audience entranced. And then it went on to promise a change. It promised safety and survival, and the freedom to walk away as if they would be given back the control of their bodies. And only if they would beg.
They would be on their knees before the next rest, pleading like they were praying to God. Hands folded, cupped, locked, or raised. Some bowed, some laid, some kneeled. But they would all be screaming for Mercy Mercy and pleading to live tomorrow.
And then it told them that it had lied. It proved it. Because it went right back to yelling about killing. And it even mocked its own allowance for mercy. It laughed at all those who had taken its lies to heart. And then with an upward glissando and a trill on E flat, skulls would shatter and blood would rain. From the balconies would fall fingers, heads, flesh, and bone. The floors would be red like the color of murder and rose red death. The puddles would seep into the wood and dye the carpets.
The screams would be the best part, adding to the cacophony and music. All in all, it wasn't a hard tune to play. And it wasn't even as beautiful as some of the others that he learned later. But in his brain there was always the memory of the song 'Mercy Mercy' and the wonders that it caused.
Mercy Mercy
Treble. B Flat. Common Time - Four/Four.
Forte Forte. Quarter, quarter, eighth, quarter, eighth tied. High F, F, F, F, F. Repeated thrice. Quarter rest.
Forte. Eighth, eighth, eighth, eighth, eighth, eighth. F, F, A, A, B flat.
Forte Forte. Eighth. High C. Eighth rest. Quarter, eighth, eighth, eighth, eighth. High F, F, F, F, F.
Forte. Quarter rest. Eighth, eighth, eighth, eighth, eighth, eighth. F, F, A, A, B flat, C. Eight rest, quarter rest, half rest.
Forte. Quarter rest. Eighth, eighth-quarter slur, Eighth, eighth.
Forte Forte. High D, C, E flat, F. Eighth, eighth, eighth, eighth, quarter, eighth. G, F, F, D, F, G.
Quarter, quarter, eighth, quarter, eighth tied. High F. Repeated thrice.
Forte. Eighth rest. Eighth, eighth, eighth, eighth, eighth, eighth, eighth. G, G, B natural, B natural, C, C, D.