Thank you Mr. Baldi! I got Disney Infinity 2 point 0 for the PlayStation 4.

Type your text to hear it in the voice of Deacon The Vampire. In the shadowy world of Deacon the Vampire, an ensemble of sounds paints the atmospheric panorama of his eternal existence. The whispers of the night are never devoid of the subtle echo of his footsteps, a soft shuffle that is as inevitable as the life he drains from his victims. This sound, almost imperceptible, is accompanied by the gentle rustle of leaves in the nocturnal breeze, a sound that sliders seamlessly into the cadence of his movement. The clink of crystal as he pours a sanguine liquid into his goblet is a resonant reminder of his ancient rituals. This evocative sound reverberates through the halls of his gothic abode, echoing the weight of centuries gone by. It invokes an image of moonlight dancing on the surface of the dark fluid, while shadows twist along the walls like the sins of those who have crossed his path. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hoots, its call part of the nocturnal symphony that frames Deacon's predacious vigils. Soft murmurs encapsulate his interactions, a paradox of silence and sound where words are as potent as his ethereal presence. These hushed conversations betray little yet reveal the intense scrutiny Deacon exercises on both friend and foe. His voice is a silk-threaded baritone that can both soothe and incite discomfort, weaving through silence with the persistence of an ancient melody forgotten to time. This voice has perhaps been heard in the realms of fantasy, much like Matt Berry's illustrious portrayal in "What We Do in the Shadows" from 2019, each syllable a calculated cadence. Then there's the sound of creaking wood, a sonic signature of the antiquated manor where Deacon resides. These groans of time, once mere whisperings, have evolved into a testimony of his perpetual unrest. A raven's caw can be heard in the distance, interrupting the solitude with its riddling cries. This bird, a nocturnal concierge, guards the mystery of each twilight hour with its solemn chants. Occasionally, a melody resonates through his sanctuary, one reminiscent of a 1980s synthwave, pulsating like a heartbeat in the stillness. It is reminiscent of the vibrant echoes left by artists such as Tilda Swinton from "The Dead Don't Die" in 2019, their presence anchoring a narrative in the undercurrents of Draconian silence. The entwined harmonies navigate through Deacon's existential ennui as if music itself were intertwined with his fate. All these sounds, each with its distinct rhythm, form an auditory collage that narrates the lifeblood of Deacon the Vampire's world. They punctuate the foreboding yet mesmerize, creating an enigmatic symphony that only those entwined with his timeless journey can truly comprehend.