Fish Audioによる無料のThe Fog AI音声ジェネレーター

Here's three haunted dolls that vanished without trace. N one, the crying doll, appears in photos it wasn't in. Two, the walking bride, moves between rooms at night. Three, the whispering puppet, previous owners found dead clutching their ears. Which one would you keep?

Anoche volví a experimentar esa sensación. El aire se volvió denso, y las sombras en mi habitación comenzaron a moverse de forma antinatural. Quise gritar, pero mi voz se congeló cuando escuché esos pasos acercándose por el pasillo.

The fog rolls in tonight, thick and heavy like my memories. I watch the little engines scurry past, unaware of my presence in the shadows. They fear what they cannot see, and I relish their terror. My story continues, forever bound to these haunted rails.

You ain't never seen the haunted trees. You ain't never walked the haunted path. You ain't never felt the haunted breeze. You ain't never heard the haunted laugh. You ain't never known the haunted ways. You ain't never seen what haunts these days.

In the depths of darkness, my whispers echo through countless minds. Each word I speak carries ancient secrets, weaving nightmares into reality. Listen closely, for I am the voice that haunts your dreams. I am shadow.

The darkness follows you everywhere, doesn't it? You feel it creeping into your thoughts, twisting your memories. Fight all you want, but the shadows of your past will always find you here. There is no escape, only surrender.

Los Angeles, January 26, 2013. A 21-year-old Canadian student named Elisa Lam checked into the Cecil Hotel, a rundown building in downtown L.A. with a dark past. It had been home to suicides, murders, and serial killers. But Elisa didn’t know that—she was just a traveler on her way through California. She called her family daily. But on January 31, she stopped. No calls. No messages. She was gone. ⸻

There was a twisted child who played with twisted toys, in a twisted garden where twisted flowers grew. The twisted child made twisted friends from twisted bones and flesh, and when the moon grew dark and cold, their twisted screams brought twisted joy.