Audiobook Narration Sample - Upgraded
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
North American (General) North American (South West - Texas) North American (US South)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Upgraded. The group was beating someone up. Aita was able to see him through small gaps in the horde for once. She wanted to see a security force member but none were in sight. Of course, they weren't, they were never around when one was actually needed running to the group. Amita skirted the edge to see what was going on being so short. Amita couldn't see a thing. She pushed her way through and the center was a man. Amita had never seen before. He was kneeling and his face was bruised. He bled from his nose and mouth. One of his arms had been modified and perhaps more of his body. It was tough to say for sure. She hadn't seen too many of the people who had stuff done to make them better to improve themselves. You don't belong here. A person said the man gulped beneath the fresh bruises was a chiseled face. One that might have been cute, if not for the blood. I'm sorry. He mumbled. It was a surprise that got him, but even a mob didn't stand a chance against a large group of people making out his words was tough. Clearly, he was terrified. He didn't belong and everyone including him knew it. Why are you here? Another ask, Adare the man managed to get out. One of the group kicked him from behind. The man screamed in agony. It hurt him more than she thought it would. The mods were considered to be immune to pain. That obviously wasn't the case stop. Aita blurted out, she pushed and shoved to the center of the circle and helped the man back up to his knees. The kick had left him on all fours. Why should we? He's a person. Amita declared most looked away and sneered to them. He was trash and the one making their lives. ****, no, he's not. Look at him. He's got mods. It was true. But that didn't make him not a person. He was and so was Amita. They were just from different places in life. He's a man. Nothing more. Amita countered. We are freaks to him. Something to stare at. The man had said it was a dare and it broke her heart. That one of the upper level people did think the streeters worthy of being stared at and he had agreed to it. But that didn't mean they had to live up to his expectations. The streeters were better than that. It doesn't matter. We are people. He is too a set of arms grabbed a meat and tossed her to the ground. You defend him, then you can take his place. You're worse than him. How can you defend this modified scum? Aita smashed into the cold hard ground. It's fi smeared itself on her. Amita cringed at the stench. The beating was slow. At first one person kicked her back and taunted her. It's your fault. Mad Amita looked up at the guy, he stared at her and mouthed, I'm sorry. It hurt but not too much. Amita did her best to deal with it. Another kick came in the ribs. She held back, the tears that wanted to come. The kicking and punching increased blood flowed from her mouth, her ears, her arms legs cuts opened up everywhere and fluids flowed from them. All, every pore of her body ached. Anita screamed in agony. It hurt so much. The pain consumed her, overwhelmed her. The world around her blackened and Aita could barely keep her eyes open. Stay awake. Amita wanted to pass out to die for it to be over. No person should ever have to endure this. Her own people were doing this to her. It was too much to handle. They were supposed to protect her against the mods, not kill her for defending them. She exhaled one last breath before the darkness overtook her.