Dixieland Dead- Southern accent female
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
North American (General) North American (US South)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
No one's going in via Mama huffed. Got it. Billy Joe reached out and tested the knob. It's locked. And Eli, that's strange. It wasn't a moment ago, I said, twisted the knob to find it locked. Go get the key, Dina. We lost the key years ago. Wait, I said excitedly. I'll get the butter knife from the kitchen. I turned to leave, but Mama grabbed me by the arm, causing me to stumble against the door with a thump. It flew open, propelling me into the room. As I stumbled for balance, something white flooded in the semi darkness. Regaining my balance, I quickly flipped on the overhead lights before Mama could protest. Ah, I said with vexation, my eyes taking in the discarded jobs lining the countertop. A dusting of fine powder covered the floor. This room's of meth. It will take hours to clean. They must have taken a sample of everything Dina piped up behind me. What's on the floor? Billy Joe bent down and ran her finger over the floor, leaving a thin trail. It looks like oatmeal, Kahler said. She makes everything she could get her hands on into that death mask. Mama stuck a head in the door. Don't touch anything and get out of there right now. We need to get over to the hospital. Jolene, if you don't come out of there there since and I promise you that when the roll is called up young, you will be there. Dina backed out of the room. She's rat. The hospital is expected. Me, I'm ready to leave to Billy, Joe said, joining Mama and Dina in the hallway. There was any need to try and argue my point with them. My vote would be vetoed immediately. The facial equipment was unplugged, so I turned off the latte and shut the door. A loud crash sound from inside the room quickly as long opened the door, flipped on the overhead light and scream with ever out of my bed for their on the facial bits. After faint and ghostly image of scholar can trail