Ghostface Fish AudioによるAIボイスジェネレーター

I hear your footsteps. Every little step. Closer and closer you come. The shadows know your name. They whisper it to me. You cannot hide. I am always here. Always watching. Always waiting.

Wait, did you hear that? Someone's in the kitchen, but I'm alone here. No, don't turn off the lights. Who's moving the chairs? I need to check, but I'm scared. Hello? Is anyone there? Maybe I should call... No, they won't believe me again.

Let me tell you about the Midnight Game. In 1987, three teenagers followed an ancient ritual at exactly 12 AM. They found bloody handprints on their mirrors, heard children laughing in empty rooms. Two survived. The third was found smiling, eyes blank, still whispering "it's here."

There's something unsettling about the way the shadows move across my backyard at dusk. I've lived here for three years now, but lately I've noticed strange patterns in the tree line that borders my property. Maybe I'm just being paranoid, but something feels different.

They found an old record player in the basement nobody remembers buying it sits there collecting dust but sometimes at night it plays by itself whispers between the static voices calling your name if you listen close enough you'll hear them promising things but whatever you do don't answer back

Creep beneath shadows whisper crawl dark dark eyes watching. Silent breath cold touch behind the walls inside your mind. Flesh and bone and whispers creeping closer closer closer. Something waits in darkness waiting for your sleep.

Through the shadows whispering, whispering, calling my name in the dark. The voices keep dancing, dancing around my mind. I'm breathing with the spirits now, now, making patterns in the air while they're speaking, speaking their ancient words.

I always check my bathroom mirror before bed. It's just habit now. But last night, something felt different. The reflection seemed slightly delayed, like it was waiting a fraction of a second too long to copy my movements. I haven't slept since.