No words were intelligible in Ollie's chorus of the damned. There was no language that could be recognised, no sentences that could be understood. And yet, somehow, the meaning was devastatingly clear to everyone trapped in the oppressive darkness that filled the room.
The voices spoke the tongue of pure emotion, in the universal language of suffering and loss and desperate, clawing need. They were the sounds of souls trapped in the darkness between this life and whatever came after. Souls that had lost their way, or had never found it to begin with, wandering in the endless Void with nothing but their grief and regret for company.
It was the sound of the Void itself, given voice through Ollie's witchcraft, and it was one of the most profoundly disturbing things that any of the living had ever heard.
