Voice Actor Lines Novels & Stories

He was exploring his anger in another way. “You’re asking the wrong questions Mr. King,” the voice said and there was a bit of muffling in the other end and then a bit of heavy breathing. “Mummy-” Ava drained voice cried out and my hands clasped around my mouth as tears formed in my eyes. “Ava, Honey, can you hear me?” I asked all at once controlling the clogging in my throat. “Your mummy just wants to say hello darling, you dont have to worry okay?” The voice said but it was clear that it had been altered. Whoever was with Ava didnt want us to hear there original voice.

A faint voice came through the line. “Hello?” I froze. It was an older woman’s voice. “Hello?” the voice repeated, a little louder this time. "Who is this?" I swallowed, forcing the words out past the lump in my throat. “Hello, mother.”

Even though I know they didn't get along the first time they met. I answered the phone and like Bane suggested I put it on speaker. "Hello, who is this?" I asked in my work voice. Don't ask about my work voice. I have a few voices I use, depending on the situation. "Well if it ain't the man himself answering little old me." the voice taunted. "Who are you and what do you want?" I asked. I wouldn't be able to know who it was. They were using something to mess up their true voice.

"I already did what you asked. That was the deal. Nothing more. Nothing less." Jackson said. It was evident from his voice the utter fury, irritation, and worry all at the same time. "You already started this, Jackson." says the person from the other line. I studied his voice despite the short words but my wolf could barely recognize the man. His voice was all static and he sounded like an AI robot. Perhaps he intentionally changed the tone and pitch of his voice to make sure Jackson could not recognize him.

When I hung up I looked at the notification. Damien Voss. Voicemail. 7:12 PM. I sat for a moment. Then I pressed play. His voice was quiet. Not the press conference voice, not the Thursday at Two voice, not any of the performed versions I had catalogued over six years of marriage and five months of dismantling. Just his voice, stripped of its usual architecture, in the specific register of someone speaking into a recording without an audience to perform for.

Mysterious. At this moment, he should speak with his own voice rather than Mr. Mysterious’. However, his voice sounded hoarse because he had just smoked in the bar. In a fluster, Cristofer immediately covered the mouthpiece. Then he cleared his throat and adjusted his voice to make it sound clearer and loud. After that, he took a deep breath and uncovered the mouthpiece. Before he could say anything, Estelle’s voice came from the other end of the line again. “Who are you on earth? Why don’t you speak?”

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.

Steve’s panicked voice rushed through the line. “You have to believe me—I had nothing to do with that recording!” Serena scoffed, tightening her grip on the phone. “Nothing to do with it? Steve, it’s your voice! You expect me to believe someone just magically created a fake recording that sounds exactly like you?” “I swear to you, I don’t remember ever saying those words!” Steve insisted. “I mean, yes, that’s my voice, but I would never say something like that. I don’t even talk like that!”

He rebutted. Yes, yes, my reasoning is stupid. He didn’t intentionally want to get caught in their trap, but I have to blame someone... *Sighs in frustration.* “Will the two of you quiet down over there?” I heard one of the men’s voice command from outside the cave. I don’t know whose voice, but I’m sure it wasn’t Ryker. His voice sounds deeper and scarier. Somewhat like Drax’s voice, but Drax’s is less harsh, and more soothing. It’s somewhere between Morgan Freeman and Darth Vader. Except, it doesn’t give me ‘dangerous villain’ vibes.

I thought for a second. Then I began dictating. “Have him say this.” Mr. Smith turned toward me. “You realize what you’re about to unleash, right?” “Yeah,” I said calmly. “That’s the point.” Sam waited. I spoke slowly so the system would capture every word perfectly. “Begin recording.” A soft tone signaled the start. “Say this,” I continued. “My name is Charles Rothschild.” Sam synthesized the line instantly, playing it back through the speakers. The voice was identical.