English British general, English British BBC,
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
British (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
motive auditioned by Chris Roux. This is nothing personal. The voice sounded muffled. Alfred Ferguson was disorientated, his thoughts a jumbled mess of images and sounds. He remembered getting up in the middle of a football game when the doorbell rang and he remembered feeling annoyed. Alfred had grown up in Glasgow, and his beloved Celtic had gone three up before half time, the door bell had sounded. Seconds after the whistle announced the start of the second half, Alfred had debated whether to answer it. But as the loud chime persisted, he had been forced to abandon one of the best football matches he had ever watched to get up to see who was at the door. This is nothing personal. The voice sounded closer. Now. Alfred couldn't tell how close the owner of the voice had placed a cloth sack over his head. He realised that his hands have been tied behind his back and his feet were also bound together. What do you want? His voice didn't sound like his own. It sounded alien. What do you want from me? Haven't you been listening? There was a hint of irritation in the voice. Now this isn't about you. The room fell silent and Alfred waited. His thoughts returned to the football match. Celtic had scored three goals in the space of 17 minutes. Alfred's heartbeat had soared after the third one, but now his heart was raging dangerously high. You didn't know what was happening to him. He didn't know why. He was lying on his back in his living room, with a cloth sack tied over his head. He didn't know why he felt numb and couldn't move a muscle. He certainly didn't know what this invader had in store for him. He remembered something else. No sooner had he opened the door, something that resembled a mobile phone was thrust in his face. There was a severe flash of light. Then Alfred felt a white hot pain in his neck. He was unconscious before his attacker had even lowered the Terminator sGC stun gun. You might want to make your peace. Now the voice was close to Alfred's. Right here. I'll give you a moment alone to think about that. Alfred was aware of the sound of something moving. The footsteps faded and Alfred was certain his attacker had left the room. He wasn't ready to make peace with the world. He wasn't ready to die. In six days, he was due to spend Christmas with the most amazing woman he'd ever met. He had managed to arrange a week off work, and he had plans for every day of that week. What the **** is going on? He thought, Who would want to do this to me? His thoughts now raced at breakneck speed. He tried to figure out why someone would enter his house with the intention of killing him. He couldn't think of anybody who could possibly have any reason to do that. Was it about money? He had heard of people being held to ransom for their money. Alfred was a very wealthy man, and that could certainly explain why had been attacked inside his home. But money hadn't even been mentioned. And if this faceless invader wanted his money, what would be gained by killing him? Are you done? The voice was close to his ear again. Alfred didn't even realise his attacker had come back inside the room. Apparently, this doesn't hurt as much as you'd expect it to. How afraid could feel the bottom of the sack being untied. It was yanked off his head, and he flinched at the bright light inside the room. Then he felt a stinging sensation in his neck, and he coughed her. Something warm ran down his throat towards his stomach. He coughed again and tasted the metallic tang of the blood on his tongue. His eyelids started to droop, and he suddenly felt very sleepy. He saw a figure in the doorway he watched as it moved into the hallway. There was an eerie silence for a while, and then the sound of the front door being closed could be heard. Alfred Ferguson bled out in less than two minutes. The blood formed a halo around his head on the carpet. Celtics didn't score any more goals in the second half of the match, and the final school ended up Celtic three, Motherwell nil.