Voice Acting Lines Novels & Stories

To fuck up the lives of other Babylonian dancers. - What you want? – I was emphatic, unable to hide all the anger I felt. - Good night, Barbara. Or would it be... Good morning? The voice had a heavy accent. And it wasn't from the disqualified major. I looked at the viewer again, to make sure it really was his name written there. And was. I wrinkled my forehead: - Who is it? - Don't you recognize my voice? - I heard the muffled laugh on the other end of the line, between several voices, in a confused call, full of noise in the background.

Static sounds came through. I waited for the caller to speak first. The voice on the other end was distorted when it finally came through. It seemed like it was badly processed through some kind of voice changer that only made it flat and genderless. "You are not the only one who knows who he is. We'll take him from you." I made to speak. "You will no—" The line went dead.

I mean, I have to do that since it is impossible for me to call the number back. I place the phone against my ear with trembling hands, waiting for that deep, powerful voice to speak into my ears. "Hello, Mr. Lucas, are you there?" the deep voice speaks, and I close my eyes, taking in a deep breath and trying to calm myself down before replying. "Yes, I am. Good morning—night, sir. I'm sorry, I don't..." I suddenly lack my vocabulary, and I don't know the right words to say, and I observe as he chuckles at the other end.

she said. "What the hell!?" I said using my normal voice. "E-Excuse me, Sir? Your voice changed a little more," she said. Dang! I almost forgot that I was pretending to be someone in another's voice. I cleared my throat. "That was my assistant," I then chuckled awkwardly. "Anyway, thanks for the information and for the talk that we have. Thank you," I said as I ended the call. Damn you, Damon Karsyn!

But he doesn’t unlock the doors. He sits there. Looking straight ahead. Thinking. Again. I hate this. “Sir.” Silence. “Sir, let me out.” Nothing. “ETHAN!!!” Finally he speaks. Very quietly. “Don’t disappear.” Oh NO. Oh GOD. Not AGAIN. Not the line he used in the restaurant. Not the Episode-9 drama line he practiced. I groan. “STOP USING ROMANTIC DRAMA LINES ON ME.” “They work.” “THEY DO NOT—”

I waited, my heart in my throat as silence echoed from the other end of my phone. Suddenly, I heard a voice. “Papa?? Papa is that you??!” … “THE LINE YOU ARE TRYING TO REACH IS OUT OF SERVICE”

His mind froze. “Listen, something happened to her and she's sorta... Missing. I'd like to meet you up soon and ask you a couple of questions that I cannot ask over the line.” Seven was unable to speak. He must have had a mini-stroke. “Seven are you there? I know this call might come off as odd, but you have got to believe me.” The croaky voice over the line was a mature man. However, his terminology was modern-teens. Seven definitely would believe anything at this point.

Assuming it was Luke I immediately answered the call with a smile on my lips. "Hello, my love." I was open and inevitably thrilled even though I couldn’t see it. He’s been texting me before, that you thought was how I could. "My life, my ass." The creepy voice I heard from the other line. My eyes immediately glanced at Kevina, he immediately turned to my seat while still waving. "W -who's that?" I asked weakly while nervous. "You don't need to know, Elle." Answer from the other line. "W-what do you need!" I emphasize that words are just enough for the speaker on the other line to hear.

the voice said. I could not recognize it. That person was using a voice changer. My body stiffened. “Who is this?” I asked. My forehead creased. There was a soft laugh from the other line. “You should be more careful,” the voice continued. “I don’t have time for games,” I said, irritated instead of intimidated. “You should,” the voice replied. “Because this is just the beginning.” My grip on the phone tightened. “What do you want?” I asked. But the line suddenly went dead.

With a sense of curious resignation, she activated the loudspeaker, her heart racing like a distant drum. Before she could utter a greeting, a woman's voice emerged from the speaker, enveloping the room in an unexpected aura of intrigue. "Is this Ava Watson?" the voice inquired, its cadence a careful blend of formality and curiosity. Ava's own voice trembled as she confirmed her identity, and with that single word, the conversation unfurled like an unscripted scene.