Dead Witch Walking Demo
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
I stood in the shadow of the deserted shop front across from the blood and brewpub, trying not to be obvious as I tugged my black leather pants back up where they belonged. This is pathetic, I thought eyeing the rain emptied street. I was way too good for this. Apprehending, unlicensed and black art Witches was my usual line of work as it takes a witch to catch a witch. But the streets were quieter than usual this week. Everyone who could make it was at the West Coast for our yearly convention, leaving me with this gem of a run, a simple snag and drag. It was just the luck of the term that had put me here in the dark and rain. Who am I kidding? I whispered, pulling the strap of my bag further up on my shoulder. I hadn't been sent to tag a witch in a month. Unlicensed, white, dark or otherwise. Bringing in the mayor son for wearing outside of a full moon probably hadn't been the best idea thusly. Car turned the corner looking black in the buzz of the Mercury Street lamp. This was the third time around the block for it a grimaced tightened on my face as it approached. Slowing. Damn it, I whispered, I need a darker door front. Hey, things. You're a hooker, Rachel. My backup snickered into my ear. I told you the right Holter was slutty. Anyone ever tell you that? You smell like a drunk bat, Jenks. I muttered, my lips barely moving. Backup was unsettlingly close tonight, having perched himself on my earring. Big dangling thing. The hearing, not the pixie. I'd found Jenks to be a pretentious not with a bad attitude and a temper to match. But he knew what side of the garden his nectar came from. And apparently pixies were the best they'd let me take out since the frog incident. I would have sworn ferries were too big to fit in their mouths.