miracle Fish AudioによるAIボイスジェネレーター

0回使用され0件のいいねがあるmiracleボイスを生成します。AIテキスト読み上げでhigh-qualityのスピーチを作成します。

miracle

They say the woods of Pine Hollow don’t take kindly to strangers. But five years ago, a white man named Arthur Vexley moved into an old cabin there — alone, quiet, and far from the town’s edge. No one asked too many questions. Maybe they should have. The cabin was a leftover from another era — wood rotting at the seams, porch slanted, and windows yellowed with time. To most, it looked abandoned. But if you looked closely... you’d see smoke curling from the chimney at dusk. And once in a while... you’d hear music playing from deep within the trees — classical music. Beethoven. Slow and haunting. Arthur came into town once a month, always wearing gloves. He’d buy bleach. Rope. Meat cleavers. Whiskey. Sometimes, freezer bags. And always with that strange little smile — polite, but... off. Like he was amused by something only he could hear. At first, no one suspected him. But then… people started to disappear. The first was Mallory Pierce, seventeen, bright and wild-haired. She rode her bike home one night from her best friend’s house... and never arrived. Her bike was found days later — lying on its side in the leaves — the front wheel still spinning. A few weeks later, it was Peter Winslow, the old man with binoculars and a love for owls. He never returned from his walk in the woods. His dog was found barking at the edge of the hollow, fur matted, leash torn, eyes full of something like fear. At first, folks blamed the woods. Maybe a bear. Maybe something else. But Sheriff Marla Greaves… she had a feeling. And that feeling pointed toward the man in the cabin. “There’s something wrong with that Vexley fella,” she told her deputy. “He looks at you like he’s studying where to cut.” But Arthur was careful. Too careful. No bodies. No blood. Just silence. And in that silence… he thrived. Because Arthur had a secret. Inside his cabin was a chamber of horror. The walls were lined with hooks. Hooks that didn’t hold meat. Freezers, labeled with names like Left Arms, Right Legs, Torsos, Fingers. Each container… chilled. Each limb… precisely cut. He didn’t eat them. He didn’t bury them. He collected them. It wasn’t about hunger. It was about control. He called it The Calling. A voice in his head, that only quieted when he was slicing. The cleaner the cut, the quieter the voice. His journals, hundreds of pages long, were filled with diagrams. Sketches of bodies. Notes like “perfect incision between ribs 4 and 5,” or “Mallory — beautiful structure, ruined by screaming.” Then he took someone who couldn’t be ignored. Rebecca Shaw. A florist. A mother. Loved by the whole town. She closed her shop one evening, left her son asleep in the back, and stepped out to her car. She never made it home. Her brother, Jake Shaw — ex-military, no patience for red tape — took matters into his own hands. He scoured the forest. And after two days, he found something. Rebecca’s scarf. Tattered. Caught in a thorn bush… not far from Arthur’s land. Jake brought it to the Sheriff. “This ends now,” he said. And it did. They surrounded the cabin at dawn. Guns drawn. Silence heavy. But Arthur… was gone. Door wide open. Like an invitation. What they found inside made grown men retch. Body parts hung like tools. Photos pinned to walls. And in the center of it all… Rebecca’s engagement ring. Sitting on a pile of severed fingers. The manhunt began that night. Three days of dogs, choppers, and restless anger. They found Arthur near the riverbank. Mud-caked. Pale. Trying to crawl into a storm drain. His wrists were slashed — not deep enough. Just enough to feel something. He didn’t fight. Didn’t run. Just whispered as they cuffed him: “It’s all in the symmetry. The art of it... you’ll never understand.” At trial, he stared blankly at the jury as they read the charges — fourteen counts of murder. Desecration. Kidnapping. The journals sealed his fate. He was sentenced to life. No parole. No daylight. Just four cold walls and silence — the very thing he used to kill. As for the cabin? The townspeople torched it to the ground one night. No permits. No hesitation. No regrets. Rebecca’s full body was never recovered. Only pieces. Her son, now raised by Uncle Jake, visits a flower bed every year — planted in the spot where her ring was found. They say the woods of Pine Hollow are quiet now. But sometimes… just sometimes… people still hear Beethoven drifting through the trees. And a whisper that sends shivers through the spine: “Perfect cut… just beneath the skin.”

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8ヶ月前

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Fish Audio S1 搭載

サンプル - miracle

音声の品質と多様性を示すサンプル生成を聴く

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サンプル 1

The rotation of Earth creates our weather patterns. The movement of air masses around the globe brings us rain and sunshine. These natural processes work together to create the diverse climate conditions we experience throughout the year.

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RS1

December 15, 1992. Officer Sarah Martinez disappeared while investigating an abandoned vehicle on Route 66. The case went cold until 2008, when a highway maintenance worker stumbled upon a rusted badge that would unlock decades of buried secrets.

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horror story

The old music box seemed innocent enough when I found it in the attic. But each night at precisely 3 AM, it plays a melody I've never heard before. The tune grows louder, and in its reflection, I see shadows dancing without bodies.

Muestra

Voz terror

En las profundidades del Vaticano existe una reliquia maldita: el espejo de Lilith. Dicen que quien mira su superficie ve el rostro del demonio que lo perseguirá hasta la muerte. Los guardias juran escuchar gritos cuando la luna llena se refleja en su cristal manchado. Sígueme para más secretos oscuros.

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Boyd Steven

We've got three people missing from sector B... wait, no, four people. Sarah Thompson and her husband, and the Miller brothers. Last seen near the... near the east fence. We need to organize a search party right away.

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Larsen

Siehst du das alte Haus am Waldrand? Seine Fenster sind blind, doch manchmal, in mondlosen Nächten, flackert dort Licht. Die Dorfbewohner sprechen von Kinderlachen hinter verfaulten Mauern. Aber diese Kinder... sie verschwanden vor fünfzig Jahren. Horch... war das ein Klopfen?

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salah

Sometimes we forget that happiness live in quiet moments, in morning coffee, in friendly smile, in peaceful sunset. When life moving too fast, take moment to appreciate these small blessing. They give us strength to keep moving forward, to stay positive.

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Narração Contos de Terror

“Existem histórias que não fazem barulho… Mas gritam dentro da gente. Elas não aparecem nas notícias. Não deixam provas. Só cicatrizes invisíveis, e um frio que ninguém sabe explicar.” Bem-vindo ao Melancolia. Aqui, cada história é um sussurro do que foi perdido. E do que nunca descansou.

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TERRY

Anoche, durante mi turno habitual, las luces de un vehículo aparecieron y desaparecieron en mi espejo retrovisor. Lo extraño fue que la carretera estaba completamente vacía. Consulté por radio a otros conductores, pero nadie más circulaba por esa ruta en ese momento.

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Bara voice☺️

Saviez-vous que le 15 mars 1967, le pétrolier Torrey Canyon s'est échoué sur les récifs des Seven Stones au large des côtes britanniques ? Cette catastrophe maritime a provoqué le déversement de 120,000 tonnes de pétrole brut, causant la première grande marée noire de l'histoire moderne. Si vous avez trouvé cette vidéo informative, suivez-nous pour plus de contenu géographique.

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страшный

Анна замечает, что тени в её квартире стали длиннее обычного. Они движутся независимо от света, тянутся к ней когда она спит. Однажды утром она просыпается и видит, что её собственная тень сидит в кресле напротив кровати, наблюдая за ней.

Sample Transcriptions

Default Sample - サンプル 1

Default Sample - RS1

Default Sample - horror story

Muestra - Voz terror

Default Sample - Boyd Steven

Default Sample - Larsen

Default Sample - salah

Default Sample - Narração Contos de Terror

Default Sample - TERRY

Default Sample - Bara voice☺️

Default Sample - страшный

Default Sample - Johnny silverhand

Fuck's sake, V. Another corpo rat nest we gotta burn down. Could go in guns blazing, but that's amateur hour. Need to think smart, hit 'em where it hurts. Like the old days with Samurai - plan the show, then bring the house down.

Default Sample - raul

La habitación está en penumbra, apenas iluminada por una vela moribunda. El espejo del rincón refleja sombras que no deberían estar ahí. Algo se mueve en su superficie, una figura oscura que no corresponde a tu reflejo. El aire se vuelve denso, pesado, como si algo invisible lo corrompiera.

miracle音声ジェネレーターの使い方

3つの簡単なステップでプロフェッショナルなボイスオーバーを作成

テキストを入力

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さまざまなテキスト長に対応
複数の言語に自動対応

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音声を生成

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動画、ポッドキャスト、その他のコンテンツにAI音声を使用している数千人のクリエイターに参加

高度なPlaygroundを開く機能と価格を見る

無料プランありクレジットカード不要

miracle音声の技術詳細

miracleは複数の言語に自動対応します。AIがテキストの言語を検出し、自然な音声を生成します。

音声生成は即座に完了します。通常、長いテキストでも数秒で完了します。

miracleのボイスオーバーは、MP3、WAV、その他の一般的なフォーマットでダウンロードでき、最大限の互換性を確保します。

はい！高度なPlaygroundでは、速度、ピッチ、感情、その他のパラメータを微調整して、完璧なサウンドを実現できます。

無料ユーザーは短いクリップを生成でき、有料プランではオーディオブックや長編コンテンツなど、拡張されたテキスト長に対応します。

miracle Fish AudioによるAIボイスジェネレーター

miracle

サンプル - miracle

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サンプル 1

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Muestra

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Muestra

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miracle音声ジェネレーターの使い方

テキストを入力

音声を生成

高度なPlaygroundを開く

miracleでプロフェッショナルなコンテンツを作成する準備はできましたか？

miracle音声の技術詳細

miracleはどの言語に対応していますか？

miracle音声の生成にどのくらい時間がかかりますか？

どの音声フォーマットでダウンロードできますか？

音声の速度やピッチを調整できますか？

一度に何文字まで生成できますか？

miracle