Fay Whitecroft | Story telling/Narration
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.
Aidan came to me last night I suspected was lurking within his troubled heart. I consoled him as best I could. Regardless, whatever he's headed, **** will surely follow in his wake. The shadows close in on Tristram once again. But like Aidan, I'll be gone before they fall. The first time I saw a witch, she burned. My father took me to the town square to see it look. He said that is the face of evil. But she looked like any other woman and burned like anything else. And the flames engulfed, huh? Her eyes found mine and she laughed. My father could never understand. He was born into privilege on wealth and spent every moment of his life trying to protect it. I was his flesh and blood, but he cared more for the names in the books, on the faces, off the paintings, on the walls, on his living daughter. Do you know what fear is? The fear of who you are? The fear of what your own blood would do if they knew what you were? No. You could never understand it. People look at you as a Saviour. Have you ever thought about the lives you've taken. They were fathers, lovers, daughters. They asked me what I see. When I look into the fire, I see a burning man. I see a burning wit. I see terror on a hunger that will consume everything. What hope to the works of man have against such all consuming hunger? I gave myself to the flames. My father burned. He screamed as the flames consumed him. And the smell was sickly sweet. He had found me for once in his life he had noticed me. And when he saw that the flames did not touch me, he breathed. One word was his last, which they called me. But I turned it against them when their daughters had a child that needed to disappear. When there was sickness that none of the healers could cure. Who was it they played it with when they needed me? The morality they flaunted in the daylight disappeared as it always does. The first time I heard him, his voice pierced my skull. You reminded me of the cold and horti sound, my father. But it was more a crush of thousands of voices. When I heard him, I saw the flames and I knew fear. It was a man who came to my bed that night. But when I looked into his eyes I saw the other. Though even he did not know it at the time. I did not hear the months voice No, I heard the other. The one that has bean with me for all these years. I gave myself to him. Leah was never my daughter. She was Diablos daughter. In truth, I felt blessed to have given the product of my body to my master. He had no interest in me. But in the product of my wound, he found life again. I never flinched when I knew her purpose. Daughters are cheap thing. Thank you so much for watching. If you liked this video, please do not thank me. Thank Ada Mullen, I, Valmont, Jolly Joe, Star Duck Riva and all my wonderful and generous patrons Without whom I would not be able to dedicate the resources on time. I do all my channels. I can never thank them enough. I hope you will join me again for more Lorne oration. But until then, us always Thanks for watching