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样本 - The Butchery of Baker St.
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Default Sample
样本 1
Snicker-snack goes my clever little hack, through the bones of Baker Street stack. Hidden in my merry shop of chop, where customers come but never stop. Nobody knows my little game, playing hide and seek with my bloody fame.
Default Sample
Listen carefully. They've been poisoning our water supply for years, making billions while we get sick. The documents I'm about to share prove everything. They tried to silence me, but the truth must come out. People deserve to know.
Default Sample
The victims, they all fit a pattern. Carefully selected, meticulously processed. Each one wrapped in industrial-grade plastic, weighted down with stones. The tide carries them away, but the ocean floor keeps my secrets. Nature becomes an accomplice.
Sample Transcriptions
Default Sample - 样本 1
Snicker-snack goes my clever little hack, through the bones of Baker Street stack. Hidden in my merry shop of chop, where customers come but never stop. Nobody knows my little game, playing hide and seek with my bloody fame.
Default Sample - HAKER
Listen carefully. They've been poisoning our water supply for years, making billions while we get sick. The documents I'm about to share prove everything. They tried to silence me, but the truth must come out. People deserve to know.
Default Sample - the bay harbor buttcher
The victims, they all fit a pattern. Carefully selected, meticulously processed. Each one wrapped in industrial-grade plastic, weighted down with stones. The tide carries them away, but the ocean floor keeps my secrets. Nature becomes an accomplice.
Default Sample - warhammer what if
Picture a forgotten crypt beneath the Hive City, where reality bleeds into nightmare. Steel-clad terminators march through corridors of writhing shadows, their armor crackling with warp energy. Ancient symbols pulse with unholy light as something ancient stirs in the darkness below.
Default Sample - ghost of the cotwolds
Deep within the ancient walls of Sudeley Castle lies a tale that few dare to speak. Visitors report glimpses of a lady in green silk, drifting through candlelit corridors. Some say she's Katherine Parr, Henry VIII's last queen, still wandering her final home.
Default Sample - principal of the thing
No eating in the classroom. No talking during tests. No phones during lessons. Detention for you, 15 seconds. Your parents will hear about this one. I'm adding this to your permanent record. These are the rules, and you will follow them.
Default Sample - King of the Legion
The shadows whisper truths that mortals dare not comprehend. My legion grows stronger with each passing moment of darkness. We are bound by chains of destiny, yet our power knows no bounds. The eternal night beckons, and we shall answer.
Default Sample - The Grace of the lord
On February 8, 1998, during a sold-out concert in Minneapolis, renowned pianist David Morton suddenly stopped playing mid-performance. The audience, thinking it was part of the show, continued applauding until stagehands rushed to his aid. He had suffered a severe stroke while performing Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.
Default Sample - The Prototype
Listen carefully now, Poppy. You think these corridors will protect you? No, no... I've mapped every vent, every shadow where you hide. I'm not angry, just... disappointed. You know I only want what's best. Stay still. I'm coming.
Default Sample - The bay harbor butcher voice
Each victim carefully chosen, wrapped in plastic like precious gifts. The tools laid out with surgical precision, the kill room prepared just so. The ritual must be perfect, clean, methodical. The ocean hungers for new offerings.
Default Sample - Charles the II of spain
Shadows on the walls moving, crawling, no please not again. The portraits, grandmother's eyes following, following always. Blood too thick, too pure they say. Mother says pray, always pray, but the demons don't listen, never listen. Holy Mary protect me.
Default Sample - The Fog
The mist thickens, hiding the shadow that crawls between the trees. You hear that? It’s the scratching of claws on cold stone, waiting for a single mistake. It doesn't just want to hunt; it wants to hear your heart stop before it finally strikes from the darkness.
Default Sample - the land of zicola
Let's start our story Khaled talking to himself
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