Haunted choir

It was a dark and stormy night. Paolo and I had just returned from a grueling recording session with the choir, and we were driving back home through the relentless rain. The downpour made it hard to see the road, and even communicating with each other became a challenge. After three hours of aimless driving in the misty rain, we had to face the harsh reality: we were completely lost.

Suddenly, a lightning bolt cracked nearby, causing us to lose control of the car. The vehicle ended up getting stuck in a muddy field. Fortunately, we noticed an old mansion nearby that seemed like the perfect place to seek help. We knocked on the massive wooden door three times, but nobody answered. Just as we were about to leave, the door creaked open, revealing a dark and gloomy, old-fashioned hall. No one was there, but we could hear a distant voice humming, emanating from deep within what now seemed like a crumbling castle.

Driven by curiosity mixed with dread and excitement, we ventured further into the mansion, following the welcoming voice. To our surprise, we passed through dusty chambers filled with carpets, old statues, and eerie armors, all while the sound grew louder. Eventually, we arrived at a strange marble room that housed a sinister organ, resembling the one we had sampled at Pasquini’s hall. In that room, a choir of desperate ghostly souls was humming in a circle, revealing smooth Polyphonic Legato Transitions. They were the restless spirits of a 19th-century female choir, awakened during our real choir sampling session, calling to be sampled and freed for eternity.

The result of that haunting sampling session is now presented here.