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BintangFortuna

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Bintang Fortuna 2

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1200-1300 words. Prompt: Long after the wars ended and their kingdoms made peace, the Immortal Paladin and the Undying Warlock begin to realize that they keep coming back to the same battlefields not because they wish to fight, but to find solace in the other's company." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The walls behind Gjallihad stretched for miles in each direction - White marble palisades eighty feet tall and ten feet thick as far as one could see, and within them stood his Kingdom and the Crown who had granted him power.\n\nThe Crown had beseeched the Goddess of Light to grant their strongest champion with the power to defeat the foe of their kingdom, and the Goddess had answered - Imbuing Gjallihad with wounds ever healing, and youth eternal. An obvious and complete parallel to their long time enemy.\n\nAcross from Gjallihad stood Araxis, the field of green upon which they both stood dying beneath his feet, and the light somehow dimmer, tainted around his form.\n\nAraxis was immortal in his own right, like a Lich from the lore he studied so deeply. His power was rooted in the darkness, the arcane and the evil - souls into the furnace of his existence fueled his life, healed his wounds, and gave him the command over the natural order of things.\n\nIn times not-so-long past now, the two had thrown armies at one another and wielded magnificent weapons of ages lost, trying to tear down one another, and their respective kingdoms. Legions of dead breaking upon walls that could not be scaled, like a jibbering hoard of madness made flesh.\n\nKnights in shining armor riding forth with effort and bravery to defeat this evil, being cut down by horrors never before seen. All except Gjallihad, his armor touched with gold, sword nothing less than a captured bolt of lightning. As champions, Araxis and Gjallihad crashed on the battlefield as titans, combatants around them giving room and respect to two forces of nature as they dueled. But never to a winner - Always to a draw.\n\nThe dead would exhaust the power of Araxis, and the loss of life would deter Gjallihad from pressing further. Attrition was the answer to a question they began to ponder over time, but soon the world moved on.\n\nThe Crown that has blessed Gjallihad his power fell from grace, but the Goddess never withdrew her gift. No less, she ceased speaking to anyone at all, and the Priests simply mimicked ancient customs for a hundred, hundred years. He no longer heard her comforting whisper any longer, despite a life of devout piety. His position changed, and no longer was he required to don the sword and plate, but vestments of the clergy to blend into society. Soon he was not more than a legend inside the great walled city.\n\nAraxis faced a similar challenge as the world grew and evolved. He had become adept at raising the dead from massive battlefields and recruiting a standing army, but technology had swiftly crashed into the realm of things that only magic could do before - Great machines of gunpowder and steel would destroy hundreds of dead in a single shot, and siege warfare became pointless as crops were grown behind walls and on rooftops, hidden away from the outside world. Anymore, Araxis was hissed as a curse, the name spit from tongues not with awe and fear, but with disdain at any inconvenience. A milk wench stepped on a field mouse in the barn, \"Araxis take this damned thing...\" - Some threat.\n\nBut he did. He took the small things, the dead things no one would miss, the animals and children and elderly and brought them back, one by one, no more standing hoard. And they were his companions from time to time until magic, waning thin from a lack of mass-murder and death, threw them back to the void. Eventually, he would retreat into the modern magic, \"Sciences\" as people began calling them - Wielding chemical compounds and twisting nature in an all-too-familiar fashion.\n\nTwo hundred years had passed since they met on the field of battle for the last time - Araxis grievously wounded and Gjallihad taut and exhausted, each sounding the retreat for their forces. And again, behind Gjallihad stood great white palisades, stretching to each side - Now mounted with large cannons and sentry posts. He strode confidently out among the gardens and fields where farmers grew crops, children played. In the distance, Gjallihad spotted a smear in reality, a dark void that came and went as quickly as lightning flashed - And in its place stood Araxis.\n\nGjallihad hadn't seen the foe for the entirety of those two hundred years and was not prepared in the slightest. Feigning his own strength, he strode forward confidently to greet the slightly hunched, old-as-he-ever-was man. He could hear from the few hundred feet he had yet to cross as Araxis spit words at him, \"Have at thee!\"\n\nA small, boney sparrow smashed into Gjallihads' chest, chirped and then ignited into a small puff of violet flame. Araxis fumed as this attack was not even rebuffed, simply laughed at as the men grew closer together, threatening postures declining as each saw the other for the first time in so long.\n\n-Gjallihad stood scant feet from his enemy, arms outstretched and smiled - \"Welcome, oldest foe. You have lost, because... well, here we are. Alive and city bustling, the world thriving away from your lichery.\"\n\n-Araxis simply nodded his agreement, looking about them with a sigh. \"It's nothing so terrible as I had imagined. I find this place, our battlefield of old, to be one of the few places that bring me comfort. The blood spilled here, and the death and decay beneath this pleasant field restore what little of my strength I hold on to.\n\n-A brief nod and Gjallihad looked about, acknowledging that the battlefield of old was now a beautiful field, with houses being raised in the distance, cobblestone road leading to the city, and a river trickling not far away. \"I believe, Araxis... That we are the only two of our kind. And we shall likely live to make sure no others come after. Let us meet here, and enjoy this peace every so often as a reminder, yes?\"\n\nAraxis didn't agree, nor did he disagree - He simply vanished in a thick cloud of black flies, a slip in space all that remained for a brief moment before disappearing as well. Gjallihad sighed, turned about and walked back to the city, taking his time to tussle the hair of the children and kick a small leather ball around with the older boys before returning to the church for the evening.\n\nYears passed yet again - Years into decades, decades into centuries. The world changed even more rapidly now, the church changing along with it - The Goddess was forsaken, and an all-encompassing God took her place, with many similar features. While Gjallihad spoke against this, everyone who remembered him, and even his legend had long since passed by. With great sadness he accepted this, and kept his worship to himself in his own quarters, knowing the true Divine has long-since gone silent. He paid lip service to keep his position in the Church, and over-all provided the exact same comfort to those who came to them in times of need. Wars sprouted up and kingdoms changed hands - Monarchies were ended, governments established and wars fought over that as well.\n\nAraxis witnessed this as well, and his power swelled and waned in time to the coming and goings of political events and wars around the world. Steam and electric power came to be and no longer were candles and faint little magic used to keep people warm, and places lit. Horses grew out of use, replaced with wood and metal chariots driven by steam and coal, and then by oil." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: Scientists have just discovered that reincarnation is real. They can track the lineage of every person you once were, but only you can see it, so others can’t harm you based on your past lives. Upon receiving your results, you find out you were Jesus Christ." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I checked my email for the confirmation. Clicked the link. It took me to a modern looking site, resembling one of those DNA testing services. I'd taken one a few years back, interested in seeing my marker, my genetic trace. This was similar, but bigger. Past lives, I thought to myself. \"What the fuck,\" I exclaimed to no one. How could there be past lives? Reincarnation? This shit is crazy. I glanced at the page, loading.\n\n5%...\n\nGuess I'll have to wait a minute, probably a huge server load. Ever since the discovery had gone mainstream its been the vogue. All everyone talks about, for almost two weeks now. Of course, most kept quiet about past lives. I shuddered knowing some unlucky soul who discovered he was a future life of Hitler or something... that could be me, i thought. Impossible, there is seven billion of us, and we probably had multiple previous lives. I did the mental math, no way. I was probably some pizza delivery guy, or an Uber driver. Not anyone of any importance. I guess it beats being Hitler...\n\n45%...\n\nI glanced at the screen, getting closer. The adrenaline levels started to climb. A dull thump which rose to an alertness. The feeling of stepping up onto a stage, of waiting for an important email. This was it. I was going to see myself ... before.\n\n75%...\n\nI glanced around my dingy apartment, of course it wasn't too dirty, but it wasn't great either. Maybe if i was a famous person before... no... i can't be. But hypothetically... I could definitely bank off of it. I pondered for a few seconds. Of course, many choose to just live without knowing their past lives, or at least, they don't discuss it. I don't blame them, but the peer pressure has gotten to me.\n\n86%...\n\nI stared at the green loading circle. Around and around and around... ad nauseum. Is this what our lives are like now? A great circle? Is death really the same... I'm overthinking, I thought, chuckling to myself. No need to get all philosophical, its just like those DNA tests, something to think about. A conversation starter, yes. That's it.\n\n95%...\n\nThen again, what if it was bad. What if it was Hitler, or some other fucking dictator. What would I do... no it can't be. It can't be. There are plenty who have taken the test and choose not to talk of their past lives, of course. What if I become one of them? Will I still fit in... or will there be uncertainty.\n\n98%...\n\nFuck, i thought. I'm getting philosophical again. God damned pessimism, striking again. The adrenaline came back, i smiled. The screen explained:\n\n99%...\n\nThis is it. This is the moment, oh fuck. What will it be, what will it be. I guess i'm betting on pizza delivery guy. No need to be a millionaire in my past life, get my hopes down like that. Too think... there could be some homeless man sitting outside my building, and in his past life he could have been in downtown, sitting in his lavish chair, surrounded by riches. Almost unimaginable.\n\n100%\n\nAh damn, of course its one of those loading screens, bait me to 100% and then a longer damn wait... eh whatever, I have all night anyway.\n\nA soft ding sound played from the speakers of my laptop, almost masked by the jet-engine fans. God it's a piece of shit, almost 6 years old... anyway. The perpetual spinning ring transfigured into a check-mark, one of those modern snazzy animations, and the text under it changed from \"Loading...\" to \"Success.\" I sighed, the adrenaline peaking, this is truly the moment. I clicked the button which appeared below, \"see you results!\" Click... loading... loading... loading. Fuck this WiFi is horrible... five seconds to load a page? The elements of the page started loading in. Some placeholder items. Then the names appeared. Above them some statistics. I started off with those.\n\n\"Number of reincarnations\"\n\nI read. Holy Shit that's a lot. 32 in total. I mean its not an ungodly number but... 32 lives? Damn. Well I guess that ups my chances... not by much of course.\n\nNext to it was another number\n\n\"Average number of reincarnations per person\"\n\n\"9.83.\"\n\nHuh. That's... about what i expected I guess. I didn't realize I was that above average, interesting.\n\nI started scrolling down, better see the names, I guess. Of course it started chronologically, latest to earliest. I started investigating the names, holding up the suspense of what the oldest name would be. Of course, almost every one was some random Joe of the street, no one significant. And after a few lives, it was hard to even google them for their records. There were a few notable ones towards the top, some do-gooders, or someone who got into the news, but no one too significant. No millionaires, billionaires, celebrities. None until the bottom. The oldest name.\n\nI held off from the oldest name for a while, scrolling just above it. I wen't to get a shot before I saw it. The burning sensation of the Vodka helped ease the adrenaline a bit, I took another shot, walked back over and sat down next to the laptop. One flick of a finger and I would see it. According to the chronological timeline, the name I was about to see was at least too hundred years old, or older, as the penultimate name was 198 years old. I scrolled down. The letters spelled it out.\n\n\"Jesus Christ\"\n\nI nearly fell out of my chair.\n\n\"Jesus Christ!\" I yelled. smiling at my unintentional pun. Fuck, there must have been a mistake. This is all a good joke right? But it couldn't be... After settling down, I checked my account. I had a notification congratulating me on a famous past life. So it was real.. this isn't a glitch.\n\nI wen't to take another shot, wondered what I was going to do. It was all well and good, and extremely lucky, that I got a famous \"predecessor\" but there was one slight problem.\n\nIm an atheist." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: A tourist leaning against Stonehenge for a picture inadvertently presses a concealed mechanism revealing an elaborate chamber beneath the rocks" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "James had been more unbearable than usual that day. Running around and kicking the stones, it was no wonder the rest of the tour group avoided us like the plague. I was exhausted. The 4 hour bus ride with a 26 year old man child had proven to be more difficult than I had anticipated.\n\nI leaned against one of the massive stones in the henge, thinking of ways to create makeshift earplugs for the ride back, when I heard a click behind me. I quickly got up just in time to see the massive stone rising from the Earth. I had just been leaning on it a second ago, and now it had suddenly grown about 20 feet taller. The entire Stonehenge was shifting now, and everyone in the group was panicking in the center, trying to figure out what the hell was happening. James, on the other hand, was trying to climb the massive, moving rock.\n\nAfter what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a few seconds, the stones stopped moving. Underneath where I was sitting, there was a newly revealed hole in the ground. At first I thought it was just a ditch, but I could make out stairs in the darkness below. I called for the group, suddenly aware that I knew absolutely none of their names. They all gathered round and looked towards the tour guide for, well, guidance. The guide quickly ran back into the bus, claiming that he wasn't getting paid enough for this shit. A few people followed, but some stayed here. James was standing on top of the tallest stone, trying to get my attention . I told him to wait up there and not to move until help arrived. The drop was definitely big enough to kill him.\n\nEveryone else was silently staring into the hole. The stairs seemed like they would go on forever, but it was so dark no one could be so sure. I pulled out my phone and turned on the flashlight. Everyone looked towards me since no one wanted to be the first one going in.\n\nI descended the stairs, panning my flashlight around the darkness, trying to make sense of the room I was in. A few brave souls followed behind me, phones in hand. After about 200 or so steps, the staircase had stopped. We were in a massive room. there was an echo of the remaining footsteps coming down the stairs, and we all pointed our flashlights into the void. I told everyone to split up, so that we could find the borders of this room. Everyone began venturing off into different directions, calling out their names every few seconds so that we would still know they were there. I walked straight ahead for a while. This room seemed to be bigger than a football field. I could still hear all the people calling out their names, and it had started to become quite annoying.\n\nI finally reached what looked like a well, I looked down into it, shining my light towards the bottom, but it was too deep to see anything. While I was thinking about the purpose of a well this far underground, I noticed the strange, ambient sound in the room. I realized that the voices calling out their names had stopped. I called out for anyone, praying they would still be there, but there was no response. I assumed that they had just gotten too far to hear me, and I decided to continue investigating this well.\n\nI peered into the abyss, holding my phone in front of me, when out of nowhere a gale-force wind blew up from the bottom. In a panic I dropped my phone into the well. I watched it tumble down, hearing it bounce off the walls, until I finally heard a splash. I looked down to see the light pointed back up at me. The air now had a strange odor to it. It almost smelled like bad breath. I was trying to focus on all my senses at once when I saw the light turn off at the bottom. I was totally in the dark.\n\nI contemplated walking back, but I could barely see my own hands in the pitch black around me. There was no way I was making it back without getting lost. I looked back into the well again, and noticed my flashlight had turned back on.\n\nMy body registered it before my brain did. I was already walking into the nothingness before I realized that my phone only had one flashlight, but there were two lights pointed back at me." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Every living thing has a shadow, because of this they're seen as a natural occurrence. Recent studies find that in reality shadows are life draining leeches, and are the sole reason death exists." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“I’m afraid Richmond, you’re going to have to have your shadow taken off,” Doctor Albert said. He flipped the paper on his clipboard over once more before he looked back at me again.\n\n“That’s the solution? Doc, I’m not that old and I’m not that sick.”\n\n“It’s not about how sick you are now. It’s about how sick you will become. Your shadow is much too tasking on your body. Soon I doubt you’ll be able to keep up and it will drain your last years faster than your first ones.” He got up and walked over to the cabinet. He opened the right door and peered into it.\n\n“It’s not so bad having your shadow taken off. Of course you won’t live up here anymore but I’ve been to The Underground. Most of its places are quite luxurious. The Hospitals there have some things I’ve never even seen.”\n\nI couldn’t take him seriously. I believed that he was serious. He had given me an answer to my question. An answer that he firmly believed would fix me or help me at least. He was probably right. I… my body would only deteriorate more if I didn’t do anything. I might not have as much time as I thought.\n\n“Let’s say I go through the procedure, do I get better? Does my body come back? Do my muscles grow back?”\n\n“The short version, is no. However, your muscles will no longer deteriorate or degenerate, meaning you won’t get worse. They will remain in the same condition as the day you remove your shadow. Therefore, you may be able to properly adjust to them and grow them, under certain circumstances, in order to get back full range of motion in all of your muscle groups. Although I can’t say for certain, you’ll most likely be able to with the help of the technology there. I don’t think anything is truly impossible anymore with their equipment and knowledge.”\n\nThere had to be a drawback. Somewhere. If this place is so good, it wouldn’t be hidden underground.\n\n“Listen, Rich,” he said. He handed me a pamphlet, “I’ll arrange a visit and you can go see if you really want to do it. There’s nothing wrong with living out the rest of your life normally either.”\n\n\"The Radiosphere\" was in big bold letters at the top. I opened it to see machines which looked something like a dentist’s chair except patients were strapped in with multiple belts looped around their body. They looked about as uncomfortable as they might be at a dentist though. The big caption read “over 100,000 different medical procedures and surgeries performed by the world best surgeons and medical personnel\". On the second flap, a caption mentioned shadow removal and how it was “easy and affordable”. I stared at the unusual smile of a girl on the third flap, who looked as if she was being forced to smile at me, through the pamphlet. I wonder if she was warning me. I closed it and looked down at the floor.\n\n“Alright doc. Guess I’ll go visit them under the soil,” I said.\n\n“Oh no,” Doctor Albert said as he laughed, “It isn’t literally underground. The Underground is a place. It’s where you’ll stay after you’re stripped of your shadow.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: After the accident you had a floating blind spot the size of a quarter in your right eye. Lately you’ve been noticing what looks like figures moving around inside of it. They’ve noticed you’ve noticed." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The little figure in the corner of James eye seemed to have frozen\n\n\"Beth, don't move. He's looking.\" Sirius whispered from the recesses of James mind.\n\nBeth stayed still, scared to inch anymore. She could tell James had noticed. He was still and tense.\n\nJames wouldn't dare move. He froze in place, mimicking the figure in his eyes.\n\nAfter he was hit in the eye during soccer practice his vision never fully recovered. He could see fine except for an everlasting, football shaped blur in the top right corner of his left eye. This blur was something the doctors told him wouldn't go away. They told James he would just 'have to get used to it.'\n\nJames spent a lot of time looking at this blur. He complained to his doctors that the blur seemed to be moving, almost like it was 'bustling with activity'. His doctor told him it was eye tadpoles, and that it happens when damage is caused to someone's eyes. James tried to accept this verdict, but couldn't. He knew his doctor was wrong.\n\nJames focused on this football in his eye more and more, and eventually came to notice patterns in the movement. The shapes seemed to move whenever James was deep in thought. James would go about his day, with a minor blind spot in his vision and never notice anything. However, the second James would think of something deeply, memorize a fact, or meditate, the blind spot would turn into an encapsulated kaleidoscope of silhouettes. This was one of those times.\n\nJames was cramming for a calculus test that he had in two days. He had been busy studying for nearly three hours before the football in his eye was obnoxiously animated. This time he completely froze when he saw the figure moving. He noticed the figure froze too. Jame's could barely make out the silhouette of a woman in his eye. He wondered if his mind had just been playing games with him for the past two months. Maybe he was going crazy.\n\nJames let out a deep breath and whispered \"I see you in there\" and was surprised to hear an immediate response.\n\n\"Good that means I won't have to hide anymore!\" called out a feminine voice.\n\n\"Beth! What are you doing?\" Screeched a man whom James could not see.\n\nJames heart dropped. He pinched himself and said \"Am I going crazy? Did you actually just say something?\"\n\nA sillhoutte of a man appeared in the blurry football.\n\n\"James. Good to finally meet you. I'm Sirius, and this is Beth. We're the head mind-engineers of your mind.\"\n\n\"Hi James! Good to meet you, sorry for scaring you for the last couple of months!\" Called out a girls voice.\n\nJames got up from his desk and sat down on his bed. \"Wait what? I have people inside of my head?\"\n\n\"Everyone does James! I'll pull up a screen on the main retinas so you can see what we look like.\" Sirius called out.\n\nJames saw an image of an older looking man and a young and attractive girl.\n\n\"James, the people in our line of work do not normally make ourselves know to the client. You however, are one of the lucky few\" Sirius said calmly.\n\n\"We have things we need to show you James. But you cannot tell anyone about this. It's possible that we could lose our jobs if other people found out, and I am sure you can guess what that means for you.\"\n\nJame's swallowed and let out a long breath of air and then sat up straight on his bed.\n\n\"Well then let's do this\" he replied with a steady lip.\n\n^(Any feedback is appreciated :-))" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: One day a Superhero snaps in a battle with the Supervillain, and proceeds to go off on them with insults so catastrophic the villain decides to quit right then and there." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The crowd stands in shock. No hero has ever used such atrocious language. The villain, crying, so ashamed of his behavior that he divests himself of all his devices. Leaving them in a pile, he staggers away.\n\nThe hero, breathing deeply, eyes closed, has such a look of pained relief that sympathy is one's first reaction until you remember the flow of cutting filth that has just emanated from that noble face. Revulsion is the second reaction, and no one disagrees with that.\n\nA matron storms forward to confront the hero.\n\n\"How dare you use such language in front of my children!\"\n\nA twisted smile comes to the hero's face.\n\n\"Madam, I know you all too well. You are Karen Davis-Moth. You have two children, frequently the subject of worried conversations among the teachers and administration for the signs of abuse they show, yet they have no visible marks upon their bodies. I know you very well, indeed. Your language is such that even I have flinched away. The worst thing of all,\" opening his eyes, the hatred clear to see, \"is that the target of that vitriol is your children. I have sufficient proof to file for a protective order on their behalf. I have stayed my hand for the evident love that they hold for you. No more. I suggest you attempt to make peace with your children, for this is the last day that they will ever see you until they reach their majority.\"\n\nHer face is twisted with shock, only to explode in a torrent of filth at least equal to the hero's, if lacking in originality. His wicked smile grows more robust, with a light of vindication glowing from his eyes. She ends her tirade with, \"and you will retract that obviously false accusation!\"\n\nHis face becomes positively gleeful. \"Madam, thank you. You have proven my point admirably. Observe.\" A holographic projection of Karen appears before her. \"Is this you, today, here? Do not bother to deny it. The crowd in the background is proof enough. Listen to yourself.\"\n\nThe projection rolls forward, the volume is low enough that she can hear it, but not the crowd. Yet they can see themselves shocked at the diatribe she unleashed on the hero, only to remember how she spoke of her children. The crowd growls and shifts forward. \"HALT! Despite her language, you have no right to assault her. The courts will take appropriate action.\"\n\nShaken from her disbelief, she screeches at the hero, denying that she ever said any of that. Her children, forgotten in the crowd, cringe as once again she blames them for everything.\n\nWhen she runs down, the hero calls her children. \"Come to me. I will protect you.\" They look at each other and run to his side. \"Tell only the truth, no lies, no games, no exaggeration.\"\n\nLooking at their mother, one begins, \"We love you, but…\" and the other continues, \"you got a potty mouth…\" Together, \"that needs washing out.\" The first continues, \"only there isn't enough soap.\"\n\nThe crowd stares, until the first stifled snort, after which a torrent of laughter rolls over them. Only until Karen raises her hand to her children. The laughter stops as though cut off with a guillotine. The hero pushes the children behind him. Staring her in the eye, daring her to strike or speak one more word. She turns away, head down, and walks unsteadily away—the crowd parts before her. One hand reaches out as if to help, but the glare she stabs that offer of help with hardens the heart of everyone who had any sympathy. The crowd turns their backs.\n\nHead now high, she walks away, as if she has morally vindicated herself. The crowd looks back at the hero.\n\n\"What I said was true, and yet the language was inappropriate. I apologize to all of you and will find and apologize to the villain as soon as I have turned these children over to CPS; or their father if he is present. To the best of my knowledge, he has never raised his hand or his voice to his children. More, he has stood between them and her rage. Taking on himself the injury that the children would have suffered.\"\n\nThe villain, who quietly returned at the screaming fit of the woman, stands forth.\n\n\"What you said of me was true, however unkind it may have been said.\"\n\nStanding straight, he removes his mask, showing a face so badly bruised that the crowd recoils. The children, seeing his face, scream \"Daddy,\" and run to him. He drops to one knee, hugging them close. \"I am sorry I didn't do more.\"\n\nThe crowd is once again stunned.\n\nFrom the back, a scream of anger, and shout of warning. \"GUN!\" Karen storms forward, \"I'LL KILL YOU ALL!\" Hero and villain shield the children, standing side-by-side. A hail of bullets smash into their defense, stopped cold. Deliberately, Karen aims at her husband, who stands defiant. The round is fired. On track for his right eye, the bullet speeds to his face only to stop six inches from him, caught by the hero's hand.\n\nLooking at the villain, the hero asks, \"would you care to do the honors?\" The villain nods.\n\n\"Karen Davis-Moth, you are under arrest for attempted murder, aggravated assault, reckless endangerment, unlawful discharge of a firearm inside city limits, and child abuse. Police, please take her into custody.\"\n\nThe hero speaks quietly to the villain. \"I do apologize for my language, and although you may still spend time in jail, I will speak on your behalf. For one who will risk death to protect children, some leniency may be found.\"\n\nThey gather the children and leap into the air, headed for the courthouse.\n\n((finis))" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: A band of space-pirates faces down a massive mining frigate." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Attention, mining frigate Kilimanjaro. I regret to inform you that your ship cargo now belongs to the glorious Fifth Fleet of Aggressive Acquisition. You will surrender your bridge immediately.” Aboard the Kilimanjaro, I listened to the transmission with a distracted air. I was busy trying to balance a dozen things, but I supposed a reply of some sort was necessary. Those Tenorbiian pirates could get awful uppity if you ignored them, and EarthForce regs demanded a policy of politeness towards the Tenorbiians, at least until you were threatened.\n\n“Pleasure to see you, Fifth Fleet. I will of course open our hangars and prepare the way for you, once the credits are transferred. Let's see...” A brief glance at another screen showed me the current commodities prices. “The current value of our cargo is currently rated at one hundred and six million credits on the Intergal Exchange, and the current value of the Kilimanjaro itself is a clean three hundred million.”\n\n“Your jokes will not save you, human. Surrender or be destroyed.” I sighed. Well, there it was. I made sure that the transmission had been recorded for the insurance people, and then I flicked a few switches.\n\n“That sounded an awful lot like a threat, Fifth Fleet. Maybe you want to reconsider that.” Might as well give them a chance, I thought. Tenorbiians weren't usually stupid enough to mess with EarthForce, but they must have seen the Kilimanjaro's lack of escorts as a weakness, instead of coming to the obvious conclusion. I took a moment to examine their craft more closely. Typical Tenorbiian pirate fleet, really. Three cruiser class ships, each about two or three hundred meters, depending on if you counted those ridiculous decorative masts. Each was dwarfed by the massive hulk of the Kilimanjaro. A dozen fighters each, buzzing around them protectively. Nothing to call the supervisor over.\n\n“Your attempts to delay are pathetic. I will crack your holds open and drag the bounty from them myself.” The channel closed, and the cruisers launched missiles. Following in their wake, the fighters moved in to attack. I sighed again. There was no negotiating with Tenorbiians, but no one would be able to say I hadn't tried.\n\nI flicked a switch, and from the opposite side of the Kilimanjaro loomed a large, kilometer long asteroid. The highly ferrous iron was gripped firmly by the Kilimanjaro's magnetic field grapplers, and it traveled in a tight orbit around the mining frigate, swinging between the pirate cruisers and their would-be target. Missiles smashed against the surface of the asteroid, along with several fighters. The rest attempted to scatter, but were painfully reminded of electromagnetism and jerked down into the field to smash upon the asteroid's surface.\n\nThe immediate threat gone, I flicked a switch, releasing the asteroid. I was about to offer the pirates one more chance to surrender, but the three remaining cruisers didn't give me a chance. Bright yellow lights illuminated their bow, and powerful beams of plasma lurched towards the Kilimanjaro. Oh well, had to give them points for persistence, I guess. The plasma impacted the thick armour of the mining ship, doing little damage. The Kilimanjaro had been designed for heavy mining within asteroid belts, and her armour reflected that. It would take a lot more concentrated fire to burn through to anywhere vulnerable.\n\nWhile they were wasting their time and energy, I locked the forward arrays onto their respective targets. Ordinarily, the mining lasers would boil away the surface of an asteroid, leaving only the desired metals. But the Tenorbiian ships weren't constructed of any particularly valuable metals, so I set them on their highest setting. The powerful lasers made short work of the pirates, boiling away metal and atmosphere with equal ease. With the last of the attackers dealt with, I filed an incident report explaining the power usage, and turned back to the screen displaying my favourite soap opera." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: A psychic reads the mind of a zombie" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Zephyr reached for the man, hesitating to touch him. \"Are you sure he's dead?\"\n\nThe pale man snapped his teeth, pushing against the snapped broomstick that James held to his forehead to keep him in place, trying to bite Zephyr.\n\n\"If he isn't dead, nothing will happen,\" James said.\n\n\"Biting my fingers off isn't nothing, James.\" Zephyr tugged at his ponytail, draped over his shoulder, centering himself with the quick yank. \"And you are so not helping.\"\n\nJames pushed the man back, digging the dull round end of the broomstick into the bloodless flesh of the man's forehead. \"Of course I'm helping. I'm holding him down.\"\n\n\"If I become a Zombie, I'm making sure I bite you first.\"\n\n\"He's not a Zombie. Zombie's are made-\"\n\n\"Shut up, James. I don't care what he is. Fine, I'm touching him.\" Zephyr poked at the man's scalp above the broomstick, tensing to spring back.\n\nWhite hot pain shot up his finger into his brain. Bright. It was too bright. The lights were blinding him. Everything around him was fuzzy shadows in the white hot blur of the light. The buzzing scream of electricity ached in his ears, chording with the rush of air rushing against his eardrums. Zephyr gasped, drowning in the thick press of the air.\n\nHe was hungry. So hungry. Not just for food, though he could feel every empty gap in his stomach like a hollow. He was hungry to stop the pain. Starving for some thought he couldn't have. He needed to devour it. He didn't know what it was but that just made it worse. And his skull was cracking from the spike drilling into his forehead. He had to stop it. He couldn't stand it. He lunged, his teeth snapping, clawing.\n\nIt only made it worse. The terrible shrieking filling his ears, making his head ring. He screamed back, and the sound rasped his throat raw like sandpaper. He hurt. He hurt so much. Destroying it filled him. He needed to rip out the lights. He needed to extinguish the shadows. He needed to stop the noise shaking like razorblades in his brain. Gagging him with the taste of metal.\n\nA slap jerked his head to the side, turning everything dark and silent for a moment.\n\n\"Jesus Christ, you fucking bit me!\"\n\nZephyr blinked the darkness and then the purple stars out of his eyes. He licked his lips, the iron taste wet on his tongue. He turned his head down, yawning to stretch his jaw, as he looked at the tall man beneath him.\n\n\"Shit. Sorry, James.\"\n\n\"Fuck sorry, get off me.\"\n\nHe pushed on James' thin chest to roll himself over onto the floor. Breathing out in relief as the pain of the experience receded. His ears twitched as he heard a limping shuffle across the carpet. \"James? Who's holding the Zombie down?\"\n\n\"Mother-\"\n\nThe dead man rasped a shriek out of his throat, lunging for them. Zephyr jerked painfully across the floor as James grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door as fast as his long legs could eat the distance. The dead man leapt for them, fingers curled like claws, teeth snapping, hungry for something it couldn't even think, needing to make it stop." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You an and your best friend are immortal. Kind of. You actually reincarnate with all your memories, always within reach of each other. Ever since you realized this in Rome, the two of you've been basically joyriding through history." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Memory. That was the problem with it all, and Anthony knew it was all going to happen again. Every time he snapped back, it was always in the middle of something. The people around him always recognized him, his name was always the same but anglicized over time, and it was always mundane.\n\nHis last body had been in a car crash later that afternoon and was mangled beyond recognition and died slowly. It's been quite a long time since he had experienced such a violent death, and there was hope that those incidents were becoming uncommon enough. He found himself in a coffee shop, sitting across from a woman in what looked like yoga pants and a t-shirt. Her hair was tied up in a bun, and she looked like she hadn't been sleeping enough lately.\n\n\"Anthony, are you alright, you look flushed all of the sudden\".\n\n\"I'm fine,\" He got up and checked for a wallet. \"Are you leaving?\"\n\n\"I've got somewhere to be\"\n\n\"Well if you didn't want to talk you could have said so\"\n\n\"I'm just not feeling well\"\n\n\"Ok well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow then. I hope you feel better\"\n\nThere were chairs outside of the shop, and he wanted to sit down and think, but he kept walking down the street to avoid offending the woman he had just met. It was hot, spring had passed and the greenery was in full effect. It was something that Anthony could never stop admiring, even if it was sparse in the cities now. There was a bench under a large tree a few blocks away that Mark and him had agreed to meet at whenever either one of them died. So he slowly made his way over, thinking about the last incarnation.\n\nAnthony had been sitting under the tree for a few hours when Mark walked by.\n\n\"Is that you?\" Mark said. \"What took you so long\"\n\n\"Even with technology its not always obvious that you've died. I brought water.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\nMark sat down, still wearing the suited business attire of decades long past. He had always been stubborn to change and would hold onto culture and style until his incarnations became walking jokes around cities. There was always a big fuss from him over this, but he would always cave to the pressure eventually.\n\n\"How was the ride this time?\"\n\n\"Ride?\"\n\n\"Yea, you went long enough to have a family this time. She was sweet that one\"\n\n\"She was, she might still be alive.\"\n\n\"What does it matter? They'll be dead soon enough. I have an idea for what we can do next\"\n\nThey sat there in silence for a moment, Anthony leaned forward and pressed his hands into his eyes. \"You ok\"\n\n\"Don't you feel sad sometimes?\"\n\n\"Don't do this again Anthony, you know there's nothing you can do. At the end of the day, you'll just wake up again. No sense in dwelling on the meaning of it. Anyways, don't you find it exhilarating? Every time you get a new choice, and you're totally free to make it unlike all of these other people.\n\nYou could start a family, learn something new, go on a murderous rampage, or you can help out the poor. Whatever you want.\"\n\n\"I just don't get any pleasure out any of it anymore\"\n\n\"You've said that for hundreds of years, and you're still here\"\n\n\"Could you kill me,\" Anthony asked.\n\n\"Really?\" Mark chuckled,\n\n\"Yea, do it.\"\n\n\"Don't be rash, lets enjoy the day? I'll get arrested and it might take a while to come back here\"\n\n\"That's alright, I'll wait. We'll do whatever you want afterward\"\n\n\"Alright then,\"\n\nMark set his water bottle down and stood up. He grabbed Anthony by the arm, and shoved him to the ground. Instinct took over, and Anthony fought against the attack but was overpowered and shoved to the ground. Mark started wailing on him as he continued to fight. Anthony screamed in agony as the assault kept coming. \"Shut up, people will come\". Mark continued to punch Anthony in the face, long after he stopped screaming until his face was unrecognizable. Even after he kept punching until a crowd formed and forced him to stop.\n\nAnthony woke up in a bed, in the arms of a woman, and cried." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: The whole point of a glory hole is anonymity. Oh well, you certainly can’t complain with the results." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Tags: blowjob, cumplay, possible incest.\n\nPat knew the whole point of a Glory Hole was the Anonymity. The titillating mystery of identity, never knowing quite who the person on the other side of the wall was. To be honest, that's why he used them. They scratched an itch.\n\nThe Glory Hole at the old XXX theater was like that, for sure, but it was a dump. There were a few in the public restrooms in the park, but those were worse.\n\nSo that's why Pat and a bunch of friends had created and popularized the 7th floor Hole. Cut into a wall in the half renovated and currently unused unisex bathrooms on the 7th floor of the Social Sciences Building at their college, it offered everything. Clean, discreet, and anonymous. People just showed up, and if there happened to be two people on either side, then things happened.\n\nPat had been surprised at the results, to be honest. While they'd had to wage a bit of a guerilla marketing plan at first, soon enough the rumors, vids, TikToks, and even exclusives from the university's Only Fans Creators had cemented it in the subculture. The only faculty that had a hint was the building's janitor, and since he got 'taken care of' at least three times a week at the Hole he wasn't going to say a word.\n\nToday, Pat walked up the stairs and past the unisex door which still said 'Out Of Order', and took note of the red occupied tile in the latch. There was someone there, in the room, even if no one was usually using it this time of day. Pat checked his watch; twenty minutes to his next class. He had time, and this might be his last chance for a few days. His cousin and step sister were both on campus to see the College, and for now should be occupied with the Tour. But they were staying with him, so the chances he could get away were slim.\n\nPat went down the hall, around a bend, through a door, and snuck around the edge of a half built classroom. Tucked into a corner was a piece of plywood leaning against the wall, and behind it was the Hole. About six inches in diameter and edged in the same rubber used for dumbell handles, it was a far cry from the shady Holes Pat had used before.\n\nHe could hear a voice, no, voices on the other side of the wall. Deciding to take his chances, Pat unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and placed the head of his cock on the edge of the ghole.\n\nHe heard a gasp, and a murmur of appreciation, which he enjoyed. Pat might be a five foot five skinny nerd, but he was blessed with a SCHLONG. Almost eight inches, rather thick, curved just so, it usually go that reaction when he flopped it out at the Hole. And just moments later, a delicate hand touched his cock, wrapping it in soft thin fingers. He heard giggling, again, certainly more than one source.\n\nPat didn't mind; lots of people came to the Hole without using it, or without thinking they were going to use it. A friend for encouragement wasn't uncommon, and that's assuming it wasn't a Content Creator doing a vid. Soon enough the giggles and chatter died, and he felt a tentative lick on the tip of his penis.\n\nPat checked his watch. Not really enough time to take it slowly, especially if the person wasn't skilled orally. \"Hey,\" he said, \"I appreciate it but I got places to be. So put it in your mouth and start sucking.\" A shy kid who never raised his voice, this was another way the Anonymity of the Hope helped Pat.\n\nThe hand and tongue vanished, and Pat inwardly cursed a moment, until a soft wet mouth enveloped the first third of his dick. He let out a gasp of pleasure, and the person on the other side went to work. They suck and teased, licked the head and along the base. They played with his balls and jacked his shaft.\n\nBut nothing prepared him for when he felt a second tongue, a second pair of velvety lips on his manhood. He was undone, both vixens were clearly experienced, not only at sucking cock but doing it together. There was no accidently knocking of heads, no awkward stops and starts. They were fluid and coordinated, and he was building to the point of no return.\n\n\"Here it comes,\" Pat said, following the etiquette of all oral; letting your partner know when you're close. One hand started jerking him and a pair of tongues flitted across his sensitive swollen cock head, and the dam of pleasure burst. Jet after jet of cum shot from him, and he almost fell.\n\nAs he felt the last drips leave him, Pat pulled back his hips. He heard more giggling, and the soft smacks of kissing. His cock tried to get hard again as he realized the people on the other side were kissing around mouthfuls of his cum, snowballing it and savoring it.\n\nHe almost bent down and looked in the Hole. But that would break the Anonymity of the Glory Hole, and that was unconscionable. He pulled up his pants and walked away, barely making it to class in time.\n\nAn hour later, he got a text from his cousin and his step sister.\n\n\"Hey Pat! We got done with our tour early, so we've been seeing the sites of the College! Care to join us for dinner?\"\n\nHe responded \"Sure, I'll grab take out on the way back from the Soc Building,\" and while he waited for the three orders of Thai absently checked their Social stories. There were a few of the main landmarks, others of the Tour itself.\n\nAnd a double selfie through a large window with a view of the school grounds. A window that was on the 7th floor of the Social Studies Building. A Building that was not on the tour, and didn't have any reason for a prospective student to go above the first floor.\n\nPat was still studying the picture as he waited for food, trying to calculate the time it was taken. Sure enough, it lined up within the same hiur of his rendezvous at the Hole.\n\nAs Pat entered his place, his cousin and step sis jumped and embraced him, and he knew he was not going to be able to let this question lie.\n\nOnly how in hell was he going to answer it?" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: In the seconds before you die, you are allowed to know everyone who was secretly in love with you at some point." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“This is it,” I breathed, throwing my hands up in the darkness. “How original.”\n\n“So we have someone else who is unimpressed in his final moments before he dies,” A deep voice called out from somewhere above me.\n\n“I’m not dead?” I cocked one of my eyebrows, spinning around slowly in search for the voice.\n\n“Not yet.” The voice responded.\n\n“Then, where the hell am I?”\n\n“You are in the place that every human must visit before he, she, or they dies.” The voice answered.\n\n“So I’m about to die,” I breathed, my shoulders slumping forward. “I mean I expected as much. You can only be in the hospital for so long before they pull the plug on you. I didn’t have a single person who’d fight for me.”\n\n“That’s not true,” The voice said ominously. “And that is one of reasons why you are here.”\n\n“You, humans, never know what is right in front of you,” The voice went on. “In less than thirty seconds, you are going to see everybody who never confessed their feelings of love for you.”\n\n“But why?” I asked, both my eyebrows shooting up. “What purpose will that have?”\n\n“Because after you die, you will be going back to earth. These faces and your experiences will press into your subconscious as you are born again. You are to make better decisions. You are to display growth. If you cannot, you will cease to exist.”\n\n“What?” I shouted.\n\n“The faces will appear in the darkness in…5….4…3…2….1” The voice announced.\n\nAnd like a huge power point or a drive-in movie theater, a young girl flashed in the sky with pigtails.\n\n“Annabeth,” I breathed, my hand reaching out toward the photo. “We grew up with each other.”\n\nThe picture changed, showing the same girl as a woman with a short blonde hair. A teenage girl with a pimply face and freckles appeared in her place.\n\n“Lana?” I asked, my mouth falling open. “I had no idea. She sat at lunch by herself. I used to help out whenever I could.”\n\nI blinked and her face aged into that of an older woman with a lot of grey.\n\n“She aged beautifully,” I whispered. “I could have grown old with her. I would have loved that. But…Wait a minute, why didn’t I see Annabeth age? Did she die years ago?”\n\nSilence as another picture appeared in the darkness. A man with bushy eyebrows and a round chin appeared. My old college roommate.\n\n“Aaron?” I crossed my arms flabbergasted and angry. “But he had all the women! Like all the women! He even took my crush away from me! Are you kidding me?”\n\nI breathed, rubbing my arms. “Fine—I guess he dated everyone I liked because of how he felt, but why didn’t he just tell me? Damn.”\n\nHis picture did not change, remaining the same. I stared, waiting for something.\n\n“Oh no,” I muttered. “Did he die after college?”\n\n“He did,” The voice answered solemnly. “Suicide.”\n\nI winced, glancing down at the ground.\n\n“There are two more to see,” The voice said quickly. “You must look back up. There is not much time left. You will regain awareness back in your body, and then, you will die.”\n\nAn older co-worker appeared. Natalie. A lady with a head full of white hair.\n\n“Is this joke? She was married! Over thirty years! She flirted with everyone in the office! She wasn’t serious.” I laughed, shaking my head. “If you are trying to convince me that she was secretly in love with me, try again!”\n\n“Natalie is a special case,” The voice admitted. “She suffered far more than any of you or her family ever knew. Her marriage was hell.”\n\nNow, I was the one quiet as I stared at her face and her laugh lines.\n\n“We all loved her in the office.” I spoke quietly.\n\nA new face flashed, replacing Natalie. I swallowed. The biggest punch to the gut.\n\nDeep startling brown eyes hidden behind brown frames, a button nose, and small lips.\n\n“Eliza?” I breathed, clutching at my heart. “But I loved her. I loved her my entire life. I watched her die, never telling her because…because I was scared.”\n\nI cradled my arms against my chest. “Why didn’t I ever tell her? She was married! I couldn’t tell her.”\n\n“You should have,” The voice said. “Though married, she died alone, and now, you are to die alone.”\n\nI touched the corner of my eye-- warm tears on my face. I shut my eyes.\n\n“You must regain yourself. You are about to return back to your body. When you go back to earth again, learn.” The voice said with finality. “Good luck.”\n\nI opened my eyes in the white room. Surrounded my strangers, doctors and nurses. I jerked against my will. My last thoughts of Eliza, the only woman I ever loved. The woman I lost without ever knowing.\n\nThe machines beeped in one steady sound.\n\nAnd then, nothing." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: You are the only normal person in a family of superheroes, the 'Black Sheep' if you will; tell us the story of your everyday life." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ever since I was could remember, I was told I was going to do fantastic things. Things that would make the world spin their heads upwards for justice and pride. My Ma’ told me when I was younger that I’d grow into my superpowers, and considering how my mom and dad are, it was obvious I had a huge pool of powers to grab from. My father was gifted with many abilities to manipulate energy of all kinds, as well as control the air around him for flight. My mother was able to control various elements. Rock, water, fire, things that she saw on a different scale than everyone else. My older sister was gifted with the ability to manipulate her own matter, increasing her size and strength at will to a specific limit.\n\nAnd here was I, being seventeen, with not a single gift.\n\nNothing, no ability what so ever. No powers, to special talent, no increased intelligence or common skills. Hell, not even over-the-top social skills. Yet, my family always told me that I would grow into it! My sister got her powers when she was twelve, but my mother and father got them during specific points that they never wanted to share for me.\n\nSo one can kinda’ see how I am well out of the loop for more situations… a lot of times I was looked down upon, not by a factor of being 'ungifted', but simply BECAUSE I was normal. My life with my friends was different, my relationship with my family was different, and I felt like the whole world looked at us, but always forgot about me. When headlines were made, my family was plastered there in their stupid getups, while I was at home watching the news and staring at Energized, my father’s hilariously bad name, talk about how it was what they did. Justice and freedom, for everyone.\n\nToday, however, fate had a different plan for me.\n\nIn the middle of dinner, while we were talking about our days, picking at the food, the T.V that was kept on in the background shifted, and Channel 6 breaking news came on. It seemed there was a robbery happening downtown, and a big one at that. Massive trucks, a huge firefight. It was horrible. I stared over from the screen as my family kept their eyes glued, before shifting their gaze to one another, nodding, and pushing up. My sister ran upstairs, my father moved to the door, and my mother went and kissed my forehead, before manipulating the wooden chairs to scoot in. “We’ll be back, baby.” She said, before I heard the doors slam; alone again, because my family had to go save the day again. I frowned and watched, staring at the screen as my sister stomped from the side-street at her massive size, my father zipping through the air like electricity, and my mother coming from the ground like some sort of fantastic, living piece of sediment. They took care of the crooks, grabbing them, tying them up, and binding most of the robbers up as the onlookers cheered and the cops assisted…\n\n… Before a massive explosion overcame the camera, and a sickly yellow dust filled the T.V screen. I gasped, and shoved myself off the table to rush over, staring as the smoke cleared… with my family, lying in a pile of rubble of the bank. My sister… was normal sized… my father was paralyzed, and my mother, trying to stand and raise the rock to cover them… wasn’t covering herself. The camera shifted, and the face of a madman filled the camera as he spoke. “Looks like the Super Family isn’t all that super smart…” he remarked horribly. “I think I’ll be taking them now, see what makes them tick and work…” He grinned, and dropped the camera as it hissed into that television fuzz.\n\nTears filled my eyes, fear welled in my heart. What do I do, what COULD I do? I’m a failure that was going to watch my family get simply taken away… but on cue, my cell phone rang.\n\nI hesitantly grabbed it, and stared down at the ‘UNKNOWN’ number, sniffling and gathering my composure, before clicking the answer button.\n\n“Ron?” A harsh female voice spoke.\n\n“Hello…?” I said through my cracking voice.\n\n“Listen to me very carefully. In a few moments, a van will be pulling up to your house. Get in it.” The mysterious voice commanded.\n\n“W… Wha-“\n\n“Your family is in danger, and so are you. A madman has plans of taking their powers for his own.”\n\n“N-… No…” I whimpered quickly, my breath growing still.\n\n“Unless…” She said throughout my hesitance.\n\n“UNLESS WHAT?!” I screamed in return; anger and fear retching my heart.\n\n“Unless you help us…” She finished.\n\nI blinked, and held the phone down slightly to look at it, my stare going blank as I clenched my free-hand into a fist.\n\nToday is the day that I become the hero… today is the day that I save my family, the city, and the world; without any genetic cheats." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: The kraken considered humans a minor annoyance and mostly left them alone, until the frequent sinking ships in the world wars became a safety hazard." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ours is a small community, less than a hundred or so, and yet it still takes months to assemble everyone. It is the traditional meeting place, the deepest, darkest cavern across our home. It is a private, a cold place, typically used to resolve petty conflicts between ourselves, today is different...\n\n\"Fellows, fellows,\" I call out, my bioluminescent patches flashing the appropriate signals in our way.\n\nEventually, the several side conversations die down, their lights and colors hushed, muted, dark.\n\n\"...Thank you for making the trip here. I know some of you have traveled far.\"\n\n\"And we want to get back! Hurry it up!\" The voice had come from Eklsjfoisdjf, a crotchety old hermit that claimed the Northern pack ice for a home. He'd been fending a few of the young ones off from setting up shop there for 300 years or so.\n\nThe laughter, chatter, and agreement eventually died down.\n\n\"Yes, fine. The matter is the humans. Their conflict has been disturbing things for some members of our community for a few years now. I suggest intervention.\"\n\nA chorus of light and color echoes across the meeting space. Arguments, agreements, one or two names are called.\n\nIt is Kdosfidjfls who finally speaks above the crowd. \"Exactly how have they disturbed things for you, Usiudhfa? They haven't disturbed me. Oh, their sonar disturbs the whales. They're pollutants disturb the fish. I, however, am made of sturdier stuff. What about you?\"\n\nThe darkness, the silence of the crowd is deafening.\n\n\"...Well,\" I start, then stop. I'm not embarrassed, just apprehensive. I know how they'll react. How some of them will react. Steeling myself, I say, \"Well, some of you know that I have cultivated a garden of lampreys. Now, I've been a lamprey breeder for may 800 years now, and I take the matter seriously-\"\n\nI was interrupted by a few dim laughs and chuckles.\n\n...I waited for it to die down. \"Well, a few months ago, one of their ships that they'd destroyed landed near one of my gardens! It didn't explode or anything, but it had landed in my garden my lampreys would have been crushed. I-\"\n\nThe assemblage erupts into laughter.\n\nI grow dark and silent, taking comfort only in the few of my kin who are silent or offer lights of comfort. At least a few of us have taste.\n\nThe ruckus lasts for some time until it is split and silenced.\n\n\"One of their bombs exploded near my clutch.\"\n\nThe darkness of our meeting is total and lasting.\n\nThe voice, the light and color had come from Zawwernjk.\n\nTo my mind, this is the first time I can recall her speaking at one of our meetings.\n\nThe darkness, the silence continues as our host contemplates the destruction of a clutch of eggs.\n\nIt is Eklsjfoisdjf, the hermit, who finally breaks it. \"To war then?\"\n\nMore silence. \"If we just attack all of them, that won't fix anything. We'll just have open war with humans.\"\n\n\"What if we picked a side?\"\n\n\"How do we choose?\"\n\n\"Well-\"\n\nOur meeting lasted the month, slowly, one by one, and then in larger groups, the krakens slipped away, back home, or on to their missions. We would learn about the humans. We would choose our side. We would end their petty conflict and once more secure our home." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: While learning to speak, a 9 month old toddler accidentally summons a demon in a forgotten language to do his bidding." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The almighty, unspeakable demon of no name had been waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Millennia passed by, leaving No Names' madness to grow, his hatred to seed yet more hatred, writhing, choking in his imprisonment in the dark. Whilst mankind had lost its power, weak and wretched as it was, at least they were free on the surface. Here, the demon was unable to do anything more than sweetly contemplate, the great, foul things it would wreak upon the Earth, should it ever be freed.\n\nNo Name did not know how long it had been trapped, when it felt a rumble, a shaking in the darkness around it. The earth shifted, and No Name stirred. A great ringing filled No Names' skull, a white light slicing through the blackness, and in desperate anticipation, No Name cried out. It knew what this meant.\n\nScratching at the dirt around it, screaming, No Name roared with joy and hate as it pushed through the earth around it, weighing heavy upon it, bloody finger nails hanging loose from its fingers, bursting through the surface.\n\nSuddenly, silence. Everything was dark and still, and the air felt close and warm around it. For a few moments, No Name stood still, breathing slowly, as it came to understand what had truly happened. It was free. No Name felt its body shake with pleasure, felt its wings tremble and twitch as they opened for the first time in thousands of years. A great hunger rattled the pit of its stomach. Soon, soon it would feed.\n\nThere were soft things hanging all around No Name, soft, cloth things, and it reached out a steady hand to push at the solid mass in front of it, and found it to be wood. Slowly, carefully, savouring every movement after having been bound for so long, it pushed on the mass, which creaked and swang open before it, filling the hole from which it crawled from with soft sunlight.\n\nIt slowly stepped forward, legs weakened but feeling stronger than it had ever done. And there, there before it, sat its Master. A small, fleshy child.\n\nThe boy faced away from it, sat on a colourful piece of fabric, swaying back and forth as he burbled.\n\nNo Name took a deep breath, contemplating its strange, box like surroundings. Everything was wood, but wood that had been stretched and warped beyond its natural state, unrecognisable beyond the knots in the floor. There were strange shapes, metallic objects, and soft bodies strewn at the edge of what it assumed to be a room. This new world was strange and wonderful. No Name could barely wait to rip every little thing apart and explore its cogs and workings.\n\nStepping forward, No Name reached out and bent at one knee, showing due respect for its saviour, its master.\n\n'Master, your will is my pleasure. I am yours to command.' No Name's voice, speaking an ancient language, reverberated around the room like a deep screech.\n\nThe boy, slack jawed, glanced back over his shoulder, and saw the demon prostrate at his side. Eyes widening, the child slowly shifted around on the spot to take a proper look. He craned his neck back to see the whole demon at once. Slowly, the boy's chubby cheeks erupted into a grin. He used his chubby arms and rolled forward, pushing himself upright to stare at the demon more closely.\n\nAt once, No Name realised what he was dealing with. Joy flooded through him.\n\n'Old friend...'\n\nAs small as his vessel was, like No Name, its Master had been trapped, trapped in this ludicrous prison of weak, living meat, without its strength and power. A curse, no doubt. But it was unmistakeable; just below the skin, below the exterior of a child, there it was - an ancient power, seething, pulsing.\n\nThe demons smiled at one another, and speaking with no words, greeted each other in the old tongue. No Name stood up to its full height, head scraping the ceiling. Baring its teeth, and uncurling its hands, revealing talons ready to rip and gouge, No Name nodded at the smiling toddler before it.\n\n'Old friend...now it is my turn to free you.'" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Last year, the Assassin Association (AA) awarded you the prize for best assassin. Being stingy, they want the prize back to award to the next person. You're not willing to give it back." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“They're coming for me aren't they?” the quiet voice had the quality of an echo, like words said somewhere else that had finally found their way out.\n\nIt was unsettling at first, but now, now he could feel his skin burning if he went more than a few hours without it. He assumed it was affection at first, before the physical effects took hold. Addiction, plain and simple. He breathed deep, as he always did before giving his reply. “Yes.”\n\nShe began shaking; her eyes were pleading for mercy. How many times had he seen that look? His eyes traced the scars on her neck. The gray skin had felt his blade so many times. That first night he made it quick, barely a flash before the inevitable black. Four and a half seconds and she'd lost the fight to a fatal sleep. There was panic in her, the same as any in the end, but then, as they said would happen, she woke up in the morning with fresh scar tissue.\n\n“Can you stop them...please?”\n\nThat same haunting echo. He could feel it in some primal part of him; it was wrong to take comfort in it. With practiced eased his pushed the inconvenient thought from his mind. He filled his lungs. “I will meet them as a brother, as they would do the same.”\n\nHe had always prided himself in never telling lies. He found it unseemly, but all manner of sins can be covered over with a carefully placed truth. This was something he had grown quiet adept at doing. That fact made it all the more unsettling that she had never failed to see past his words as if he'd given no effort to deceit.\n\nShe didn't sob, or breakdown in any way. Only a single tear let him know she knew his meaning and their fates. It wouldn't be long now; they'd come with the darkness. If these were to be his final moments then he decided he should at least be as human as he remembered how to be. “Surely you're glad to be rid of me. After all I've done to you. So many times, no one could forgive that.” The words conjured the blood drenched memory of it.\n\nHe could feel the guilt in it and knew he could never find escape. The echo reached out to him “You were able to stop. Of all the others, only you were able to stop. The rest...they were barely more than monsters in the end. That is what is to become of me when you are no longer by my side.”\n\nHe took several long breaths to take in her meaning. “You aren't the normal prize for 'Best Assassin' are you?”\n\n“From what I've come to understand, I am given to those who've lost themselves to killing and so pose a threat to the association.” The echo had no malice in it, seeming to speaking more of objective fact than of the reality of her existence.\n\nHe began to wonder how many times she had been killed, what torments she'd endured, and what hells awaited her in the future. How old was she? It seemed impossible to tell and despite his curiosity he hadn't been able to find the will to ask. The sun had nearly set; they would be on him in moments expecting him to be armed to the teeth, but he had put away his weapons for good nine months ago. He would not allow them to force his hand anymore. With that realization he felt a warmth spread through him, and he instinctively looked to her.\n\n“Could I have your name?” His tongue managed the words even as he felt it swell in his mouth.\n\nShe smiled him for the first time since he'd known her. “You've always known it.” He thought for a second that her words sounded so much closer than before." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: A gas giant in an unnamed Solar System has 3 moons, each of them contain intelligent life. Write a story on how these 3 civilizations differ, how they react when they discover life exists on the other moons, and how they interact with each-other as they all grow more advanced." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "We found the others. Have you ever had that feeling where you buy something, discover somewhere, or find someone and from that moment on it is a part of you? Like it was always attached to you. It's not new, just newly noticed. That's how we felt.\n\nI wish we hadn’t\n\nIt is amazing what a civilization can accomplish when they have the motivation. It only took a single generation. We traveled the technological distance from telescopes to spacecraft. We rushed headlong, devoting our society to this singular purpose. A species-wide obsession. Our eagerness was not a cautious thing. Careening forward we sacrificed the lives of many intrepid souls in our quest.\n\nI wish we hadn't.\n\nWe went to the inner moon first. Whipping around the center planet with twice the velocity of our home this speedy satellite sported sensational beauty. We knew there was intelligent life there because the entire planet looked like a giant work of art. Perfect curls of green connected to wiggling lines of red in an unnatural fractal. They shamed our chaos with their symmetry. We could not wait to meet the minds behind the beauty. We got there on our third try.\n\nI wish we hadn’t.\n\nWhere we expected harmony we discovered only discord. As our landers marred the symmetry of the land with their uninvited intrusion, the world was quiet. This lasted for a single moment. The ground erupted around our alien invasion and we watched horrified as millions of tiny winged creatures in a myriad of colors ripped our people to shreds and used their bodies to deepen the fractal pattern. Their blood made for a powerful red dye. The cameras swiftly winked out of existence and the signals stopped. Our sadness led to desperation. We had to believe that the universe was not so cruel, so apathetic, so alien. We launched our attempt to reach the second moon within hours.\n\nI wish we hadn’t.\n\nWe made it to the second inhabited moon. It lazily orbited the Center Planet at twice the distance and a quarter of the speed of our home moon. From our telescopic viewpoint we had seen a moon which sported sparkling cities and ceaseless industry. Surely, we thought, these are a people with whom we could communicate. They will understand us, embrace us. The landing craft entered the atmosphere and landed a short distance from one of the largest cities. We held our breath as one of the locals approached us. It dropped a small device and walked away. We moved towards it.\n\nI wish we hadn’t.\n\nWith the ceaseless optimism and the burden of a generation resting on this moment we approached the device. To our amazement it began to speak in our very own language. “Hi. We see that you have finally discovered us. Go away now. We have observed you and found you lacking. You are a stupid civilization. Your culture is weak, your ideals are idiotic. If you ever try to contact us again we will destroy your moon without hesitation. We have known about you for eons. We decided long ago you were worthless.” You could almost hear our collective will break. With that pithy message they sealed our doom. We lost our will to act. We stopped reproducing. The generation of space was the final generation. We traveled into the stars and found our own futility.\n\nI wish we hadn’t." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You're the janitor for the biggest superhero foundation ever known, but one day, when all of the heroes are gone, a villain appears. what they don't know is that you are the most powerful superhero there, and the only reason you aren't put on missions is because you are TOO powerful." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "(content warning: this story is a bit dark, as it depicts the detailed POV of a person being attacked, be aware.)\n\nIt was Christmas, everyone had gone home for the holidays, even the guards.\n\nAfter all, there were no weapons here, no guns, no super suits, only paperwork. Even though this building belonged to the hero's association, it was a simply an office. Anything vaguely important would be stored in other locations, or backed up on servers. A simple place for heroes to come and fill out paperwork if needed.\n\nSo why was I here? I liked it, the tile floors, the smell of cleaning chemicals, even if it's just moping the floors. I may not be a hero, but someone has to the job, and this way I could help, even if only a little.\n\nAn empty building full of useless papers, and me. No reason for anyone to target here, then again, villains are not the most reasonable of people.\n\nI found him in a hallway, my mop in hand. A thin man in a trench coat. I called out to him, \"Hey, were closed, it's Christmas, come back tomor....\". He turned to look at me. His piercing red eyes caught me off guard.\n\nIt only took a second, before I knew it, he was in front of me. I fell, no, I was pushed back against the wall. I felt this... sinking pressure around my neck. Pain. I could feel his fingers wrapping around my throat.\n\nI felt the urge to cough. Reaching up I begin grabbing, pulling, at the hands, desperately trying to re-leave the pressure. Those piercing eyes staring at mine, observing me. My heart beats fast.\n\nI desperately claw and scrape at the hands, they hold firm, unmoving. I can feel the Adrenalin building higher and higher. A sneer twists across the man face.\n\nIs this how it ends? The grip tightens. Why me? Why here? Why now? A snicker invades my ears. My heart is beating so fast it feels like it will tear a hole in my chest. What about John from accounting, we were supposed to go bowling. What about Jennifer, who always smiles at me from behind her book?\n\nMy lungs burn with intensity. My arms no longer attempt to claw at the hands, they feel heavy like lead. A toothy grin is stretched eternally thin below those red eyes. My muscles burn, My vision blurs.\n\nI don't want to die, I don't want to say goodbye, I DON'T WANT TO DIE. Like lifting the heaviest weight I ever have, my hand shoots forward and touches the man's face. His hands release, and his body crumples to the floor. I slide against the wall onto my hands and knees gasping, coughing, desperately breathing the sweetest air I have ever felt. I stayed there, for a long moment, the cool sensation wicking away the burning from my chest.\n\nMy shaking arms push me up as I sit against the wall, unable to believe what's just happened. I see the body, Still writhing, the arms and legs contorting. The skin growing thinner, tauter, wrapping around the man like a skeleton, until it becomes hard and begins to crack, splitting open.\n\nTears begin to well in my eyes, I look at the body as it begins to fall apart. \"i'm sorry\", but a breathy whisper, \"i did not want ...\", \"i did not mean to\", \"i- i'm sorry\". The man is long gone by now.\n\nThere is no place for an inescapable death in a world of heroes, no man deserves such a fate.\n\nMy throat burns." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: On January 25th, 2014 you gave yourself a deadline of one year before you killed yourself. It is now nearing midnight January 25th, 2015." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Is it a New Year's resolution if it's made 25 days after the fact?\n\nYou're weren't sure then and you're not sure now. With violently trembling hands and eyes blurred by tears, the vow you scribbled onto a hastily torn piece of paper is almost illegible. Though you don't need to read it to know what it says.\n\nYour butt is growing numb and the car is starting to grow cold, but you don't move from your seat. Fiddling with the paper, you glance at the clock - 11:15 PM. Only 45 more minutes. Would you turn the car on now and hope the fumes knock you out by midnight? Or wait until 12:00 appears in neon blue?\n\nLifting your head, you glance at your roommate's car, which just so happens to be parked across from yours. You hope she wouldn't be the one to find you. Even as much as she irritates you, you'd never wish that on anyone.\n\n11:20. How have only three minutes passed? The last 364 days have all but flown by, but now it's down to the wire and time is dragging. Of course.\n\nWith a sigh, your head falls back and you stare blankly out the windshield. It's been a long day and your back aches. You think of your bed and the warm comforter and it's not until you're jerking awake that you realize you started falling asleep.\n\n11:23 PM. Turning the radio up, it's a song you hate, but you're not necessarily listening for enjoyment.\n\n'Just gotta stay awake until 12,' you think. But then you wonder - why? You've already made your decision, so what's 35 more minutes?\n\nWith a sigh, you reach for the keys still sitting in the ignition and your fingers close around them briefly before dropping back into your lap. One year is one year, and you owe yourself at least that.\n\n11:28. Whoever is playing their stereo that loudly needs to stop.\n\n11:29. It's cold.\n\n11:30. Your roommate just texted you that her boyfriend is coming over for a few. Great. Hopefully he doesn't see you. Well, at least she actually texted you for once.\n\nHalf an hour left, you realize, and you're starting to really think you can't wait any longer. Patience has never been your strong suit. With an aggravated sigh, you reach for the keys once again.\n\nPulling them from the ignition, you loop your arm through your bag and reach for the door handle. You parked a little too close to the metal support beam, so it's a bit of a squeeze, but you'll live. No pun intended. After all, you decided more than three months ago that a little piece of paper didn't mean anything. Life is nothing now like it was then and honestly, you can't even one hundred percent remember why you made that oath. Passing by the dumpsters, you toss the now balled-up little \"promise\" in and it's only a few yards until you reach your front door. You deposit your bag on the couch, actually dropping your keys inside it this time instead of leaving them somewhere random and having to hunt for them in the morning. A glance at your phone tells you it's 11:40. Shedding the day's work clothes, you toss them into the pile of dirty clothes on your bedroom floor because even though you own a hamper, it's full of clean clothes and has been for the past week.\n\nPajamas on, you shut the closet door before hitting the lights and crawling into bed. Your phone buzzes as you connect it to the charger and you open the Snapchat of - what else - a cat. 11:45 PM. Just fifteen more minutes, you think, closing out all of your apps. Geez, 21? No wonder your phone was at 8%.\n\nClicking the lock button, you set the phone on the night stand before reaching for the sheets pooled at the end of the bed. Mmm, toasty. And yeah, you definitely forgot to brush your teeth, but you're way too comfortable to care right now.\n\nYou hazard to guess it's about 11:50 and you have to be up at 8:30, so if you were to fall asleep right now..." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You're an \"assassin\". You've never actually killed anyone, but you are very charismatic, and actually convinced your \"victims\" to fake their death and leave the country." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Touch that switch and I pull the trigger.” I softly said as I pulled the slide back on my gun.\n\nAustin froze unable to take his hand off the switch and afraid to accidentally turn it on.\n\n“Wh..who are you?” his voice said trembling\n\n“Who I am is not important. Why I’m here is. You sir are obviously not a good person, otherwise I wouldn’t be here. I’ve been hired to kill you.”\n\n“What are you talking about I’m an upstand”\n\n“Shut up, I don’t need to hear your bullshit. I know who you are, what you’ve done behind closed doors. What you’ve done with to your wife. I even know about your business trip to Thailand and your many adventures there. So don’t bore me with your upstanding citizen, deacon of the church, great father crap. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t do my due diligence in this matter. And even though you are the scum of this earth. I willing to cut a deal.”\n\nEven in the dark I could see the terror in his eyes. Replaying the nights he cheated on his wife while she was getting cancer treatment. The doctor visit after his “business” trip to Thailand where he found out he caught something there. And I’m sure he was trying to figure out who it was that wanted him dead.\n\n“Whatever the amount I’ll pay it. I’ve got money hidden in multiple bank accounts. Name your price.”\n\n“Now let’s s take a step back real quick. 2 seconds ago you were trying to tell me that you were a good person. Now your willing to pay for your life. It always amazes me how quickly some people turn into their true selves when I show up. You did it faster than most. But what I want comes in 2 parts. Number one, there is a computer on the table next to you. Open it slowly and transfer all the money from your accounts to mine.”\n\nSlowly he opened the laptop. The keys echoed loudly in the quiet, dark room. I watched as all the money was transferred.\n\n“Done” he barked “Now what?\n\n“If you didn’t noticed I left one account open for you, the one you tell your wife is the only spending money you have. $5193.67 is still in there. That is yours if you make the next correct decision.”\n\n“Whatever it is, fine.” His voice getting more impatient “I just want this over with so you can get out of my house before my wife and kids get home.”\n\n“Well since you said that, I’m not going anywhere, you are. Here’s the second part. Take the money I’ve left you and leave. Find somewhere new and start over. I’ll make it look like you died and you never come back.”\n\n“If you think you can make me leave my wife, you’re insane. I’m not going anywhere.”\n\n“Let’s think about this logically for a second. I’m giving you a chance to start over. For you to repent for your sins against your family and community. You will leave here and can be a better person. Find a new partner that you don’t have to pretend with. Start a life that is free of guilt, free of lies, free of the person you were 5 minutes ago. You can be the person you always wanted to be. Or I can put a bullet in your head and make it look like you did?” I grinned a little as I waved the gun gently in the moonlight of the window behind me.\n\n“You can’t be serious, my wife and kids won’t be able to survive without me.”\n\n“They will be better off, I’m sure you know that.”\n\nYears of being a therapist helped me explain to him the pain he had put his family through. How the lies he told were killing him inside. Why not only his family but He would be better from this day forth.\n\nAs the realization set in, he began to cry. He dropped to his knees holding his head in his hands.\n\n“I’ll go.” He gently cried out\n\nI began to lay out his next steps. How he would get out of the country, what to take, and where he should start. I gave him the envelope with his new identity. And sent him on his way.\n\nI watched from the window as he drove away.\n\n“You can come out now.” I yelled upstairs\n\n“Is it really over?” She asked slowly coming down the stairs.\n\n“Yes, this is our life now.” I turned dropping the toy gun to the floor and embracing my future wife" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1400-1500 words. Prompt: Haunted House TV hosts have to edit out most of their content before it airs. This is because most ghosts are incredibly horny. You almost wish you could find a ghost who didn't want to fuck every cast and crewmember, just once." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Standing in front of the door to the abandoned haunted house the presenter, Melissa, is making sure her white shirt is tucked in to her shirt black skirt. Lifting her nylon covers legs she brushed some dirt off her pink heels, the pink matches her underwear but that important for later.\n\nMelissa, now ready, waits for the camera man to give her the go. The camera man begins to count down from three.\n\n3... 2... 1...\n\n“Hello and welcome to an exclusive episode of Haunted Hunters, I’m your host Melissa and today’s episode is a behind the scenes.” Melissa begins to explain playing with her skirt.\n\n“Now people don’t know this but ghost are normal very horny as they don’t often get that release so when hunting we wear chastity belts to stop the ghosts doing to much.” Melissa continues to explain lifting up her skirt to reveal the belt.\n\nMelissa takes a key out the pocket on her shirt and unlock the belt, letting it hit the ground.\n\n“Well today we’re letting the ghost have full access.” Melissa explains.\n\n“Let’s go inside.” Melissa then said as she turned around and opens the door.\n\nWalking into the house the floor squeaked as her heels pushed down on the old wood. She confused to walk through the house trying to find the a sign of a ghost.\n\n“Why don’t we try the bed room.” Melissa said looking into the camera with a smile.\n\nClimbing the old stairs she walks towards the master bed room, as she open the door slowly and walked in. It was only a couple of steps before Melissa put her foot in some ghost residue. Moving the camera in closer to show her heel almost covered in the goo.\n\n“We do have a ghost and this looks like some slime left from its foot print.” Melissa explained and the camera man got a good look at her heel.\n\nMelissa moves her foot around in the goo to give a good show but as she try’s to move she finds her foot is stuck in the goo.\n\n“Oww this is sticker then normal, I think my heel is stuck.” Melissa said trying to provide a description on what’s happening.\n\nMelissa slips her nylon foot out her heel slowly and puts it on the floor away from the goo.\n\n“I guess I’ll continue with our heels on.” Melissa said with a little giggle.\n\nMelissa begins to walk around the room look at the old furniture, she is very interested in the bed and looking directly into the camera she climbs on to it. Melissa decides to lie down on the bed and spread her arms and legs out.\n\n“Will the ghost take the bait?” Melissa asked still looking into the camera.\n\nMelissa waited and soon she could feels very slimy rope around her ankles and wrists, the camera man moved in to get a better look, it was the same goo as what was on her heels.\n\nHearing a noise behind him the camera man turns around to reveal a black figure standing in the corner of the room. It begins to walk towards the camera man but the figure knows he’s wearing a chastity device and can’t do anything, it relies Melissa isn’t wearing one and turns it’s attention to her. Walking over to the bed it grows a large and hard cock. Melissa wasn’t expecting this to happen and began to struggle on the bed but it was no good, the slime rope was around her tight and wasn’t coming lose anytime soon. As it got closer it was very interested in Melissas nylon feet and began to rub them. As the camera man got a better look the figures hand grew claws and it begins to tickle Melissas feet. Melissa was incredibly ticklish and hated her feet being tickled.\n\n“Please stop.” Melissa was able to get out between gasping for air and laughing but the figure didn’t stop.\n\nMelissa endures around twenty minutes of tickle torture and the camera man got plenty of shots of her feet being tickled by the figure and a couple of her laughing face.\n\nThe figure stoped and disappeared and the ropes disappeared too. Climbing off the bed Melissa looks into the camera.\n\n“Let’s keep looking, it may return.” Melissa said with a smile.\n\nStanding up she walked over to her heel, which are now clean, slipping her feet back into the heels she left the master bed room and back into the hall way.\n\n“Where next?” Melissa asked the camera.\n\nMelissa continues to walk down the hall way towards a spear room, opening the door the figure is waiting for her.\n\n“As you can see the ghost is now waiting for us, let’s see what it might do.” Melissa said and as she finished her clothes vanished except her heels.\n\nIt took Melissa a couple of seconds to realise and quickly covers her self.\n\n“Oww it’s has stolen my clothes and I’m naked, my camera man has been told to not stop recording no matter what.” Melissa said trying her best to keep herself covered but the figure had other ideas.\n\nThe figure walked towards Melissa and grabbed her hands, putting them behind her back he tied them together at the wrist forcing her to expose herself.\n\n“This is humiliating, first tickling me now this.” Melissa said a little annoyed with the ghost.\n\nThe ghost walks out of the room leaving Melissa alone with the camera man.\n\n“We should follow.” Melissa said as she began to walk towards the door.\n\nFlowing the ghost out the room and down the hall way towards what looked like a bath room. As Melissa got closer to the door her hands where released and her clothes returned to her. Opening the door the ghost is tied to the shower curtain rail with its cock sticking straight towards Melissa.\n\n“It seams the ghost is gonna let me play with it.” Melissa said to the camera walking closer to the ghost.\n\nMelissa slowly walked over to the ghost putting her hand on its hard cock, slowly stroking it back and forth as if she was teasing it as punishment for what it did to her.\n\n“Do you want to see a ghost cum?” Melissa asked the camera.\n\nAs Melissa began to stroke the ghosts cock faster and faster, she continued to stroke its cock until it looked like the ghost was about to cum, she stoped.\n\n“I think I’ll edge it for a bit as composition for what it did to me.” Melissa said to the camera with a smile.\n\nMelissa didn’t continue to stroke its cock but knelt down with her face in front of its cock.\n\n“Do you want to cum on my face.” Melissa asked the ghost.\n\nGreen cum began ozzing out the tip of the ghosts cock and Melissa smiled, putting her finger on its cock she slowly rubbed its head with her finger, she was planing to ruin it orgasm. But just before the ghost could cum it vanished leaving Melissa confused.\n\n“What, where’s it’s gone?” She asked in shocked confusion.\n\nStanding up Melissa leaves the bath room quickly trying to find the ghost, rushing back down the stairs she finds it in the kitchen standing by the table. Melissa slowly walks over and stands in front of it. The ghost grabs her, turning around and holding her against the table. Rope begin to wrap around her ankles and her legs are pulled apart. The ghost lifts her skirt and pulls her panties down. Melissa watches as the ghost slides it’s cock into her and begins to slide it in and out getting faster and faster. The camera man just watch and trying to get the best shots possible.\n\nMelissa was enjoying the fucking she was getting and could feel her first orgasm building but the ghost stoped leaving her almost on the edge.\n\n“Please, let me cum.” Melissa begged almost with out thinking.\n\nThe ghost removed her top and bra along with her skirt and began to slide its cock back in and out of her now sensitive pussy. Melissa let out her orgasm and the ghost continued to fuck her.\n\nMelissa has four more orgasms before the ghost pulled out of her, rubbing it’s cock it shot a massive load or green cum all over her body. Almost covering her.\n\nThe ghost vanished again but soon reappeared with Melissa chastity belt in hand, locking it back on her body it vanished again holding her only key.\n\n“I think I’m now it’s sex slave.” Melissa said shocked and a little scared." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You are a villain capable of seeing the future of your actions, but instead of directly causing things to happen, you use the butterfly effect to advance your goals." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Even now, after I had been defeated, my enemy was beyond cautious. The superpowered, ultra-fast woman dubbed Laser circled around me. She needn't worry, my wounds were absolutely fatal. Getting punched and kicked by her had been one of the worst experiences of my life. Bones weren't just broken but completely shattered. Internal bleeding was pooling in my abdomen, thighs and... it didn't matter now.\n\n\"You know\", she said, \"I could not imagine a more fearsome enemy than you, Mr. Butterfly.\" She seemed more confident now, as my body was taking its final gasps. \"The ability to choose a future based on your own actions, and to impact the future of all with such innocent actions that you drew no attention.\" I managed to draw a breath, but damn it all my ribs made me weep in agony. \"How did you beat me?\" I managed to ask.\n\n\"Well, you would have gotten away with it... if the world wasn't filled with supers trying to prove themselves to join the League. One super has the ability to detect evil in a person. Another has the ability to detect the strength potential in a person. And so on. But no one else could ever tell the future like you could. In the end, we caught on to your evil deeds and schemes by a simple luck of matching superpowers with each other in unique ways. Cooperation revealed you. After that, we simply needed to plan how to actually fight you.\"\n\n\"It took us years to plan. We needed to trap you in a non-reversible situation, where actions that you had taken in your past had already determined and limited your possible future actions. See, we figured there was a limit to how far into the future you could see. Or maybe you were just lazy and didn't bother looking too far. By the time you saw your own death, you simply had no possible action left to take that would avoid it.\"\n\nShe was right. I'd seen it coming for months now. But my power had no limits. In a twist of fate, I could see myself seeing myself in the future, and so on all the way to infinity. More than that, she was wrong to think I could only see my own actions and my own end. So yes, they'd beaten me into a bloody pulp. They wouldn't let me live either. They were vigilantes, not real League members yet. No cameras on them, no real moral compass to speak of. In a last herculean effort, I made my last monologue. It was traditional, after all.\n\n\"You supers never got it. All you know is the League, glowing bright with hope and justice for all. And you die for the league, because you believe in the cause. But you never got that us villains could believe in things too.\" I paused to spit up whatever blood was clogging my airways, coming straight from my punctured lungs. \"I looked into the future and saw a possibility that perfectly captured every thing and every way I wish the world was like. The only problem was making it a reality would lead to my death.\" She seemed to freeze in fear. They hadn't planned for this.\n\n\"But even after I had made up my mind, it was no easy task to accomplish it. See, I didn't know every super hiding in alleyways waiting for some poor criminal to beat to a pulp. I had no idea what powers walked this meager earth. So I had to make sure. My death was not simply some random byproduct of making my dream a reality. No, it was the key component. In every other future I saw, you eventually caught me and forced me to undo the damage I had done. Your plans to build a perfect trap, with no possibly escape... only worked because I played into it. It was not a trap for me, but to trap you in murderous actions beyond your understanding. You think you caught me, but I'm exactly where I want to be. Because in the end, the only threat to my dream was myself. \"\n\n\"And with me dead... you're all fucked.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: \"Now remember, a healing spell has some side effects. You may be tired, slightly dizzy, and DO NOT interact with anything strange you might see after. Let me repeat DO NOT interact with anything strange you might see. Ready? Good.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I did as she said. I interacted with none of the visions. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try and decipher them.\n\nI recalled the visions in my mind. First was the holy symbol the cleric used to cast the spell, but then it morphed and shifted into something else. I could hardly describe it. The symbol was a shape with so many sides it appeared to have none.\n\nI was bathed in light, but I heard a voice calling out to me in the darkness. It was a voice that echoed in many different tongues, but within it, I heard my own. The words I could not tell you, it was as if they spoke in ideas and emotions.\n\nI felt an embrace. I presumed it was the Grey Mother, the one the clerics of healing worship, but there was something wrong about the embrace I could not quite figure out. It felt too strong, too encompassing, too curious to be the warm, gentle Grey Mother who held me close. It wasn’t a guardian angel looking down at me. I felt as if I was being analyzed.\n\nAs I spend weeks pouring over texts in search of answers, those in my life tell me to stop. They say it's becoming an unhealthy obsession, consuming my life. Perhaps it is, but I can not let this rest.\n\nI was rejected by the clerics and I have yet to understand why. I performed all the prayer incantations perfectly, I showed a level of faith and devotion such that my robes were always white (the robes of the order track mental state, so when they change color the church can help them find faith again), I wanted nothing more than to heal.\n\nI was always hungry to learn more of the Grey Mother’s teachings. Searching through libraries, listening to stories of her kindness and forgiveness. I revered the saints of the past and looked up to them, wishing to learn all I could. Though there was some knowledge they kept from me, they told me it would be revealed to me when I passed judgment.\n\nWhen the final test came, where I faced the Grey Mother’s judgment, I failed.\n\nThere was no explanation, I felt no otherworldly presence. The clerics merely communed to the Grey Mother while I waited with terse apprehension. When it was over I looked to them with eager eyes, but they shook their heads solemnly.\n\nWhy hadn’t the Grey Mother accepted me? What could I have done wrong?\n\nOne day while researching a scholar nearby told me he recognized the symbol, that many-sided smooth surface, which I had seen. Though it was not anything related to the Grey Mother. I was looking in the wrong place.\n\nI looked for other accounts of people hearing emotions as if words, all languages at once, the shape, the strange embrace. There were a few meager vision writings, but oddly enough none were published by the church but by another source, ones that hid the knowledge within a dense text about an entirely different topic.\n\nWhat I discovered is what I saw in my vision had little to do with the Grey Lady, but rather seemed to align with a different entity. The Anithorath.\n\nIt was a being of which we understood little. It amassed knowledge and wisdom, so much so it was said that even just a glimpse at its vast well of knowledge could break any mortal.\n\nWhy was I seeing this in my visions? If the Anithorath healed me, what of the Grey Lady?\n\nFortunately, my chance will come soon. I had injured myself once more and am going to the church to get healed.\n\nI must know the truth. This time when the voices call out, I won’t shy away from them. I will answer its call." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: \"I sympathize with your situation, but I must stop your geno-\" Before the paladin could use his magic, a lightning bolt struck him and took his powers away. Frustrated, he reviewed his god's rulebook: \"Rule 132: Don't sympathize with evil.\" \"That god of yours a bit dogmatic, innit?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The paladin hero was the last one standing in the way of the Evil Lord and her plan.\n\n\"You can't do this! The moment you finish the spell matrix on your tower, all humans who don't posses magic will die!\"\n\nThe paladin shouted, trying to break the barrier that was protecting the Evil Lord.\n\n\"You think my spell is that simple?\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said, chuckling in an eerie manner.\n\n\"Your minions already spilled the beans! And I will stop you!\"\n\nThe paladin said, as cracks appeared on the barrier.\n\n\"The spell, is a bit more complicated.\n\nAnyone who has the slightest resentment, or hatred towards magic will be eradicated.\n\nFarmers who don't even know about magic for example, won't be touched.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said, biting her hand, continuing to draw the matrix.\n\n\"That's impossible!\"\n\nThe paladin shouted.\n\n\"It's a high-tier self created magic.\n\nI sold my soul to the emotion circle of Hell, gaining the ability to feel hatred, envy, fear, lust, pride and so on.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said, with a content smile on her face.\n\n\"Why...Why are you doing this?\"\n\nThe paladin asked, trying to buy time, as he smashed the barrier with all the strength he could muster.\n\n\"Why?\n\nIt's something personal.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said, tying her long her in a bun, as it got in the way of her matrix.\n\n\"Excuses, just for your own sense of superiority, and satisfaction, you are going to sacrifice so many people?! Parents, and children alike!\"\n\nThe Paladin said, a hole the size of a fist, appearing on the barrier.\n\n\"Parents?\n\nI once had a nice beautiful family, with 2 loving parents, 3 little sisters, and 1 toddler brother who was not even 2 weeks old.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said, with a gentle, reminiscing smile on her face.\n\n\"What happened?\"\n\nThe paladin asked, seeing that this might be the topic, which could save the world.\n\n\"Oh, the townspeople, and several kingdom army units decided that a family with mages, and witches should be burnt, and they killed them.\n\nI escaped only because I was in the forest, next to our mansion, playing with my newfound friend, a phoenix.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said.\n\n\"I remember now!Your father was an evil necromancer, it was divine retribution!\"\n\nThe paladin said.\n\n\"Let me break it down to you.\n\nMother was a healer, she saved dozens of lives a day.\n\nAunt was an alchemist, she also saved lives.\n\nUncle was a merchant, but he funded orphanages for the war orphans, while building shelters for the beggars.\n\nFather was indeed a necromancer, but he studied the corpses, never touched a living being in order to study them.\n\nHe wanted to find a way to immortality, pretty foolish, but he wanted to do it, in order to save grandma.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord recounted, in a gentle, soothing voice, which hid an anger, ready to erupt.\n\n\"This...\"\n\nThe paladin was shocked.\n\n\"Now, when father actually cured grandma, and brought her back to her prime, people got scared.\n\nWe never wanted authority, or power, that's why our mansion was close, to the Forbidden Forest, far away from civilisation.\n\nYet, the closest town, still got scared by our mere presence, and invoking some lies, they brought fire, and death upon us.\n\nThey even showcased by little brother's intact corpse, as he was a fire mage fledging, he didn't get burnt, but still died of asphyxiation...He was barely 2 weeks old!\"\n\nThe Evil Lord shouted, losing her calm, the barrier coming down.\n\nThe paladin stepped closer to her.\n\n\"I...I sympathize with your situation, but this is not a reason to kill innocent people..\"\n\nThe paladin said.\n\n\"Nobody is truly innocent, but I...I can't fight you, and also finish the spell matrix, do what you want.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said, focusing on the matrix, her back once more, being turned to the paladin.\n\nThe paladin sighed, raised his sword, and tried to plunge it into the Evil Lord's back.\n\nBut right then, a lightning bolt hit him out of nowhere, losing all of his powers, losing grasp of his famed sword.\n\n\"This...My power's have been stripped by God for sympathizing with you...\"\n\nHe said, slumping to the ground.\n\n\"Quite dogmatic your God is.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said, glancing shortly at the paladin, before finish the spell matrix.\n\nA huge earthquake shook the tower, and the skies darkened.\n\nAfter a few minutes, the skies cleared, and the world stopped shaking.\n\n\"It is done.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said smiling.\n\n\"You just killed millions of people how can you be happy?\"\n\nThe paladin asked, lying on the ground.\n\n\"Millions, what are you talking about?\n\nThe spell killed 12 noble families, of the new kind, who hated magic.\n\nAround 10.000 soldiers who hated, and resented magic, and 4.000 commoners.\n\nThe kill count is less than the number of summoned demons you and your party killed.\"\n\nShe said, helping the paladin up.\n\n\"...\"\n\nThe paladin was speechless, his fate shaken, powers stripped.\n\n\"Don't be so sad, at least you are still good looking.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said chuckling, as she \"loaded\" the paladin onto a carriage.\n\n\"What...what are you doing?\"\n\nThe paladin asked.\n\n\"Mother taught me never to leave an ill person alone, and without help.\"\n\nShe said, smiling.\n\nShe was truly content, that revenge has been served.\n\n\"W-w-where are you taking me?\"\n\nThe paladin asked weakly.\n\n\"Oh, I am immortal, but bound by contracts that I shall do the demons biding once its needed.\n\nSo until then, I am free to do whatever I want.\n\nI am going to a town, and open an apothecary, and a clinic as well.\n\nHealing people is my area of expertise.\"\n\nShe said, chuckling.\n\n\"Y-you, haven't answered my question.\"\n\nThe paladin said.\n\n\"Your weakness is temporary, albeit getting your powers back is impossible, your physical power will come back, and I will need your muscle to help me.\n\nTaking care of the clinic, loading, and unloading resources, going out to hunt for food, looking for herbs, all of these will be your duty.\"\n\nShe smiled, so happy, and free of burden, she started whistling.\n\n\"Why should I do that?\"\n\nThe paladin asked.\n\n\"Consider it a compensation, for all those minions, and friends of mine, you've killed.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said, giving a sharp look to the paladin.\n\nThe paladin actually felt awkward and didn't retort.\n\nThe two left, while high above in the sky, a bird was following them.\n\nThe world was thrown into chaos, when people died without an apparent reason.But since the number was extremely high, and it was mostly people who were against the mainstream magical system, after a few months, the incident was forgotten.\n\nWhile, far away, in a town surrounded by wilderness, a clinic, and apothecary was getting popular with the regions inhabitants.\n\nEspecially the quarrelling pair, who just don't want to admit that they love each other, and a beautiful rainbow coloured hawk, that is the shop's symbol." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: There's a door in the middle of the forest. No one who has ever gone in has come back. Your job is to guard anyone from going in. One night, you hear a knock on the door." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I raised the flask to my lips, taking a long drag of the noxious liquor. It traveled down my throat, lighting a fiery path in its wake. I coughed, blinking back the tears. At least it would ward off the cold a little longer.\n\nLeaning against the bark of a sizeable tree, I closed my eyes in meditation. The night played it symphony around me, lulling and sweet. If anything, it was the main perk as being the Doorman. Getting away from the others was what I needed. They were too loud, always celebrating the smallest things. Gods, if they didn’t have anything to party about, they would find a reason why.\n\nThere was a sound, a light tap reverbing amongst the wooden giants surrounding me. I opened one eye, my hand gravitating to my gun. Didn’t sound like any woodland creatures. Probably one of the kids from the village, trying to spook me. Or maybe they wanted to divert my attention so they could see the Demon’s Door. After all, it had become a rite of passage for the youth to get as close as possible before being sucked up by it. Every once in a while, one tested their luck too much and were lost forever.\n\nBut not on my watch.\n\nSince taking the role months ago, there hadn’t been another disappearance. Impressive, considering the notoriety of the Demon’s Door. If someone wasn’t trying to get their own peek inside, they were trying to hack it to splinters. Yet, even the sharpest axe did little more than scratch the wooden surface. As the legends claim, the door is as impervious as the gods.\n\nAnother knock rang. It was louder – more pressing. There was no mistaking where it came from this time. I turned my head, tracing the origin on the sound.\n\nIt came from the door.\n\nMy blood ran cold, the alcohol doing nothing to warm it. That wasn’t possible. As far as the stories go, nothing existed on the other side. And I was damn sure no one stayed over there. Yet, the knocking came from it, sure enough.\n\nI rose to my feet, slow and apprehensive. I didn’t take my eyes off the door, hand still hovering over my holster. What could lie on the other side? If I had to guess, something I didn’t want to deal with.\n\nEach step towards the door was agonizing. Dead leaves crunched under my feet, the continual sound putting me on edge. I bit my lip, saying my first prayers since taking the job. I always figured they didn’t help when I was so close to evil. Now, I had no idea.\n\nOnce I reached the door, I paused. It was weathered yet looked brand new, it’s surface pale but smooth. A brass knob shined in the waning moonlight, glaring with a mysterious aura. It turned, a silent yet unmistakable movement.\n\nI pulled back, taking in a sharp breath. I expected the door to fly open, for foul spirits to pour forth and rip me to shreds. But it didn’t.\n\nAll I heard was the knocking.\n\nMustering enough courage, I placed my hand on the knob. It was warm, disobeying the winter’s touch. I embraced it, closing my eyes. I twisted my wrist, waiting for the worst.\n\nOn the other side of the door was darkness – inky blackness. I saw nothing but swirling shadows, tendrils reaching outwards. Yet, they couldn’t reach me. Not as long as I was on the other side of the door.\n\nA figure faded into existence, a white specter. I squinted, struggling to make out the form. At first, I couldn’t make out if it was man or woman, adult or child. However, after a few more seconds, it became clear.\n\nIt was a girl – scarcely older than eight. She looked up to me, a smile on her face. Her arms shot upwards, a begging expression plastered on her face.\n\n“Please, dad?” she asked, her voice soft and sonorous.\n\nThe rims of my eyes grew hot, tears bubbling forth. This couldn’t have been happening. Not now, not like this. I knew what I had to do.\n\nInstinctually, I grabbed the door and slammed it tight. Even then, there was muffled crying on the other side. It had been months since the last time I heard it yet the pain remained.\n\nI sank to my knees, clutching myself in pain. I mumbled the same words over and over, unable to hold back the tears. The knocking started again, piercing my sobs as the night’s symphony reached its end.\n\n“I’m so sorry, Nadia.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: Mars is the new Wild West with Robot horses and Cyborg Marshalls." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The metal doors slid open with a hiss that turned into a moan as the grit laden winds blew in. The machines on either side of the door buzzed and the reddish sand stayed within the vestibule, the invisible walls resisted the scraping grains. A figure clad in a long coat stepped through the doors and they slid closed behind them, killing the sound of the roaring wind. The machines buzzed for a few more moments, vents opening to suck out as much of the sand and pumping them back outside before turning off with a faint cough.\n\nThe figure brushed at its shoulders, scattering more sand. Dark green lenses peered about the room as the head scanned back and forth. The rebreather on the mask sucked in recycled air, and the figure nodded at the woman behind the bar. It approached the bar, booted feet thumped on the red stone ground and most turned away from the ominous looking person. The black lower leg length coat was worn from the harsh winds but still officious, the mask hid all human features, and the hood on the coat covered any hair the figure might have. Though short, the figure oozed authority, dominance,\n\nDespite the fearsome appearance the woman behind the bar smiled. She wiped clean a metal cup in her hands, the augmetic fingers of her right hand clicked against the material musically. Green eyes danced as she waited for the figure to approach, her normal fingers brushing a look of raven black hair away from tanned skin. “Good to see you darlin’,” she said warmly. Her voice was husky, a common trait shared by the wind-scoured dwellers of the Eastern Fringe. “Was hopin’ you’d show up soon. How you been?”\n\nThe figure’s gloved hands rose and pulled off the hood, revealing red hair tied in a braid. They touched both sides of the mask and after a beep and a hiss of releasing pressure, the mask lifted revealing a marble hued complexion. One eye shone with a purple light, a lens that clicked as it focused on the other woman. The other eye was grey as storm clouds, but they softened for the moment. “Good to see you too Ella.” Her voice was less raspy, clipped. Yet it still bore a faint huskiness to it, one that spent a life time breathing recycled air. “What’s the news?”\n\nBefore Ella could say more a hulking figure slid up to the petite newcomer. He breathed heavily, his breath heavy with alcohol and dust. “Well, what do we ‘ave ‘ear? What’s a little ‘burb bot gal doing here in the Wastes?” He laughed uproariously, but few others joined. Ignoring Ella’s pointed look he loomed over the metal eyed woman. “Kinda far for one of you ain’t it? That why you got the fancy suit, to keep the sand out of the metal bits.” He drooled lasciviously. “Maybe you need a fella to help keep them oiled.”\n\nThe smaller woman turned and looked up at the drunken man, utterly unfazed. “You should keep to yourself. If you know what is good for you.”\n\nHe glowered at her, face turning red as the sands outside. “Maybe you should be the one who should know what’s good.” A hefty hand fell onto her shoulder. As soon as it touched the smaller woman twisted down and to the left, her hand clamping onto his wrist. She spun and dragged him off balance, swinging her other hand into his side. A groan escaped his lips at the blow and before he could recover her arm went over his shoulder and she threw him bodily onto the ground. She held his arm up like a leave, keeping his body against the stone floor, kneeling on his shoulder. He flailed, tried to push himself up from the ground. Instantly he went limp as she touched a ring on her finger which emitted a holographic symbol.\n\n“You just assaulted a Mars-shall. Congratulations, you have been added to the Network as a malcontent. Anything else you do in front of me will result in punitive fines, time in jail, or physical punishment. Want to try your luck?”\n\nThe big man sobbed for forgiveness, nodding at her words and when released he made his getaway. The door opened before him and he staggered into the biting winds. The other occupants of the establishment laughed, many nodding in thanks to the Mars-shall before going back to their business.\n\nElla chuckled richly. “I love seeing you Athena. You put the rabble in line and it’s never borin’.”\n\nThe metal eyed woman smiled briefly. “I could use some boring time honestly. They have me going from the Fringe, to the Rusts, back to the Mekaniks, and now the Wastes.” She shrugged wearily, lines of exhaustion appearing briefly. “Well, a new crop of Mars-halls are about to go into service. Most are Mars locals too.” She winked. “Can’t let the Homeworlder’s run the place now can we.”\n\nElla giggled and shot Athena a wounded look. “I’m the only Terran ‘round here anyways. Never liked the place, why I’m here now.” She slid a chip across the counter top to the Mars-shall. “There you go darlin’. All the updated local maps and as well as some trading schedules. Hopefully they help you out. Oh and here,” she placed two slim silver metal tubes on the counter. “A little sweeter air than that much you get at the Depot.”\n\nAthena smiled back, slipping the chip into her wrist reader and carefully placing the flasks into her backpack. “Thanks Ella. I’ll come back before I head back to Prime. Give me a ring if you need anything.” She left a pile of credit chips on the counter before securing the mask back onto her face. The doors hissed open once more and the black clad Mars-shall walked into the roaring red sand winds, unbending." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 400-500 words. Prompt: George Wahington has been rolling in his grave for years over the state of the USA. He's rolled so much, that he's burrowed into the center of the Earth, and has returned as a magma and molten iron covered golem, with only one purpose: to set things strait, his way." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Golem George Washington kicked in the door to the oval office, startling President Tal King Hed right out of his chair.\n\n\"Who are you?\" said President Hed, poking his head over the top of his desk.\n\n\"I'm Golem George Washington and I'm here to chop down your tree\"\n\n\"I though that was a myth\"\n\n\"Oh who even knows?\"\n\n\"Is that a rhetorical question?\"\n\n\"Also it was a metaphor\"\n\n\"For what?\"\n\n\"For setting this country straight\"\n\n\"So what do you want with me?\"\n\n\"I want you to set this country straight\"\n\n\"Oh\" President Hed looked down\n\n\"What?\" said Golem George Washington\n\n\"I uhm….I can't do that\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"I…don't really have any power\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Yeah\"\n\n\"Are you telling me that you, President Tal King Hed is just a talking head?\"\n\nThey both look at the camera, then return to the diegesis.\n\n\"So who do I talk to?\" said Golem George Washington\n\n\"Hellooo\" said a 9 foot tall lizard, stepping out of the corner.\n\n\"How did you…\"\n\n\"There'ssssss been sssssssome changesssss ssssssince you were in power, Golem Geroge Wassssssshington\"\n\n\"Changes? Like what?\"\n\n\"Well 9 foot tall lizardsssssssss running the country for one\" said the 9 foot tall lizard\n\n\"I thought you said you always ran the country\" said President Hed\n\n\"We ssssssssay a lot of thingsssssss\" said the 9 foot tall lizard \"now ssssssssit down and ssssssshut up\"\n\n\"Yes sir\" said President Hed, sitting on the floor behind his desk\n\n\"So you're who I talk to about setting things straight?\" said Golem George Washington\n\n\"Yesssssssss\"\n\n\"Ok. Set things stra…\"\n\nThe 9 foot tall lizard whirled around it's tail punching a hole through Golem George Washington's Golem head. Golem George Washington dropped to his knees and raised his hands to his face. The lizard turned, pulling it's tail free. There was a spray of molten blood and Golem Geroge Washington pitched forward.\n\nThe 9 foot tall lizard turned to President Hed, who was poking his head above his desk again.\n\n\"Get back to work\" said he 9 foot tall lizard\n\n\"Ok\"\n\nPresident Hed righted his chair and sat down at his desk.\n\n\"Oh and President Hed\" said the 9 foot tall lizard\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Raissssssse minimum mandatory ssssssssentencessssss for minor drug offencessssss and…I don't know lower minimum wage\"\n\nPresident Hed sighed \"Fine\"\n\n\"Without the attitude\"\n\nPresident Hed smiled and said \"Fine\"\n\nThe lizard disappeared into the corner.\n\n\"Scaly bastard\" said President Hed under his breath\n\n\"What?\" said the disembodied voice of the 9 foot tall lizard who actually ran the country\n\n\"Nothing\" said President Hed, before proceeding to make the country a little bit worse for poor people as Golem George Washington burned the carpet with his molten blood and zombie George Washington, stuck inside the Golem, metaphorically burned with anger, plotting his next move." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You are famous for never ever needing to sleep because of the things you have achieved, but no one knows you are an identical twin who discovered that only one of you needs to sleep at a time and you've had your sibling in a drug coma for the last ten years" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was astounding, the discovery of the man who never slept. Nobody could explain it- there had been countless studies and experiments but with no reason as to why.\n\nThe twins were young when their abilities were discovered by their parents. Not the twins themselves. It was the parents that decided that one needed to take the fall in order for the other one to be successful. It was an easy choice for them, really, the one that was more trouble had to be put away, so they were put away.\n\nAny evidence of the other twins existence had been wiped. The world didn’t know. It wasn’t Max and Lewis Hutchison, it was just Max Hutchison.\n\nMax Hutchison, 18, top of all his classes in school and currently attending a prestigious university thanks to his grades and early entry.\n\nTalents include;\n\n•cooking\n\n•woodworking\n\n•metalwork\n\n•drawing\n\n•writing\n\n•Playing 19 different instruments\n\n•succeeding athletically in basketball, soccer, lacrosse, track and hockey.\n\n•dancing\n\n•gardening\n\n•photography\n\n•filmmaking\n\n•singing\n\nAnd various others.\n\nOne had a lot of time when they didn’t need to sleep. The need to fill that time ate at him, which is why he filled it with learning different things. It wasn’t right for someone not to sleep- He was a human, for god sakes. Yes, not sleeping made him successful, famous throughout the world as this genius, multitalented man. With the amount of news articles he had written about him he wondered how there were any more trees left in the world- and how the internet couldn’t be just blocked up with them, even with the endless-ness of the Internet.\n\nAll of this was baffling to him. Max learned quickly that this was messed up. His parents never had anything going for them. They were poor, spent money on drugs and alcohol but fuck as soon as they figured out the ability of their sons - or son, rather - they found the jackpot. They were drowning in riches, living off their son and milking his ability for every penny. Max was a tourist destination in his small home town of Toolah.\n\nDespite his young age, Max was already sick and tired of life. Tired- that’s what he was- but he couldn’t sleep for the life of him, no matter how much he tried because Lewis- poor Lewis- was lying there in a coma, his youth going down the drain. He didn’t deserve this, though Max would be lying if he didn’t admit that when this all started, he liked it. He liked what he could do and the attention he received for doing it. Max wished he could take his place, maybe Lewis would like this a lot more...and even if he didn’t /at least/ he’d get a taste of life...\n\nA taste of life, yes.\n\nThat’s what Max wanted to give him. And that’s what he had been spending his last few years on.\n\nOne had a lot of time when they didn’t need to sleep. The need to fill that time ate at him, which is why he filled it with noting every detail of his life, complying it into a thick folder which had the name READ ME LEWIS on the cover, and inside, a detailed letter to Lewis explaining everything.\n\nMax sat there by Lewis, who was lying in his coma bed. “I’ve figured it out.” He whispered, watching his brother. “I’ve figured out how to sleep.” He picked up the folder and placed it down on the bedside table. “I hope you realise what I’m doing for you, Lewis.” He grabbed the duffel bag he had brought in with him, placing t near he folder. “You’ll understand everything- I’ve written it down for you.” He reached into his pocket. “You can make the choice. If you want to take over for me, I’ve got every detail of my life, how you can act like me-“ He took the gun out. “If not, the duffle bag is full of money. Fuck, these people just love throwing money at freaks.” He pressed the gun to his head. “The money will take you anywhere you want to go. Again, that’s in the folder. Go into hiding, start a new life, I don’t care.”\n\nLewis laid there in the bed and Max swore he saw his brother twitching a little, as if he were responding to his words- perhaps telling him not to do this.\n\n“I know how to sleep so you can finally wake up.” Max let out a shaky breath, finger on the trigger.\n\n“I just want to sleep.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1400-1500 words. Prompt: In the afterlife, you are given a choice of 7 gates to pass through and indulge in a deadly sin for the rest of eternity, but one in particular catches your eye; a rusty office door labelled \"PRIDE\" in bold font." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The decor is decidedly neutral. There are no flames, no pitchforks, and no lakes of boiling acid. No horned Lucifer, with rotten wings and serpent eyes laughing at our misfortune. It isn't what we'd call hellish. But on the other hand, it isn't exactly heavenly either. No fair gardens, full of peace and quiet. No warm gentle lights, no angelic choirs, not a place by the side of any sort of maker. Mostly, it looks like the DMV. Long lines, leading to countless sets of seven gates. Each are the exact same gates, just existing at multiple locations at the same time, allowing for countless lines of human souls to pass through them at once. At least, that's what the faded and clearly generic pamphlet you get when you arrive says. Other than that, there are low-quality but free machines that dispenses adequate coffee, acceptable snacks, and some not entirely comfortable couches where you can sit if you're not sure which gate to enter. Some of us do sit there, drinking the unremarkable coffee, reading the pamphlet for information about what lies behind the gates.\n\nOnce you've entered, you can't pick a different one. Each gate is marked as belonging to a specific sin, of the traditional seven. Enter there and experience that stuff forever. First in the order is pretty simple. Gluttony. It looks to be a fairly greasy door, with a good deal of stains on it. Behind it, there is every kind of overindulgence. Food, drink, drugs, you name it, they've got it. Chocolate oceans, pools of whiskey, mountains of ice cream, free drugs of every kind from dispensaries everywhere. Pretty simple when you think about it, but there is an allure in it for many. Eat but never get full, drink but never have the hangover, feel the high and never the lows. It is understandable. Next is even more understandable, Lust. Less of a conventional door, and more a series of enticing veils. Through there you find exactly what you expect: Endless parlours, countless harems, boudoirs full of everything you can possible want in bed. That one is especially popular. In the infinite office, this DMV of the afterlife, there is a line to get inside Lust, and it is pretty unruly. In there, one can, supposedly, fulfil every passion, no matter how strange, sate every desire, no matter how bizarre. An eternity like that should be pretty eventful.\n\nGreed, or Avarice, comes next. It cannot be satisfied unless it has the most names. But it is pretty simple. Money, gold, wealth beyond measure, infinite treasure, it is the door that is most gaudy and looks so golden and bejewelled that it is ridiculous. High stocks, riches, big business, super-yachts, solid gold jacuzzis, jewels, and more; all that jazz. That's it forever behind that door. Ostentatious if you ask me, but I never sought out such things in life for the mere sake of having them. Those who cannot have enough will perhaps find it, but I don't intend to enter through there. Personally, when I look at the doors, I find it weird that there are only seven, but somehow I doubt that this place is built upon the writings of John Cassian the Roman monk, and his eight sins, because there are no doors marked as sorrow or despair, which was his fourth deadly sin. Then again, who'd ever actually enter that?\n\nInstead, the fourth door is Wrath. And it is dented, battered, and broken. Many enter it. Beyond lies every battle every fought, every conflict ever wrought, every single moment made in wrath, continuing forever. A battle that never ends with no victors in sight. A horrible eternity, and yet many rough-looking souls, and those who could never fulfil their rage in life, gleefully charge through the door. Some men are lost to rage. I've known some such men, who for a brief time become the fire inside of them, as it burns them out. It tears them apart, and leaves behind either death or empty shells that cannot be called back to the men they were. I do not seek what lies behind this door. Next comes Sloth. Seems to be a door leading to a bedroom. According to the pamphlet it is literally just an endless realm of good places to sleep, watch TV, relax, nap, and lie in the warm sun. It is quiet in there, and there is nothing that happens. A fair number of people go in there, and I don't blame them. After a long life, what you probably need is a good long rest, though judging from the hazy nature of some of the souls entering there, they seem to have been slothful in life too.\n\nSixth door is Envy. Not entirely sure how you'd experience that forever, but then again, this is death, nobody ever said it had to be very logical. Certainly don't recall having ever heard of this place before, but it seemingly exists despite its irrational nature. The envious get revenge. Get even. Oddly enough, that's the only thing the pamphlet says about it. You get even. Sounds vaguely ominous, and not entirely psychologically healthy. The door itself reflects this. It looks like the gate to a prison. Perhaps that place behind it, is the closest thing we get to a traditional hell. Not that I intend to enter there. Any enemy I might have had in life, I crushed. I was envious of no living or dead man. Only a few enter it. And they look incredibly worrying. Those who enter Wrath look either like emotionally detached veterans, returning to the war that hasn't left their heads, or violent lunatics that scream with glee. But the souls who enter the door of Envy look twisted and bitter. Like they've been stewing in that sin to the point that their souls are corrupt or something. I shudder to look at them.\n\nAnd finally, I come to the forefront of the queue. Seven doors. Gluttony holds no enticement for me, food is good and all, but not so good that I'd spend the rest of eternity indulging. Lust isn't it either, sure I could probably enjoy myself for a good long while in there, but as eternity stretches, how long can you continue to find it interesting when it is constant fulfilment? Greed is out, that's for people with nothing inside of them, empty, hollow creatures desperate to fill the whole hole in them, and the only thing they pour into themselves is empty mammon. Wrath isn't my style either; even Valhalla had breaks in-between the battles to feast and party. Sloth has some merit, but really, I'd go mad without anything to do besides rest. And Envy is not going to happen. Thus, my eyes are drawn to the only door that seems unused. I've been here in this infinite DMV of the afterlife, watching people in a million queues march towards the seven doors of the seven sins, and none has ever used the rusty door of Pride. It is there, I can see it, and yet it isn't described in the pamphlet at all. Even Envy had some pictures with its laconic description. Not pleasant pictures mind you, but pictures all the same.\n\nPride is just there. And instead of entering any of the other doors, I walk with measured steps towards its ancient rusted frame. Wrenching it open is a titanic effort on my part, which is strange as I am dead and thus should not feel any physical strain, and yet I keep doing it. I keep opening the door. It creaks ominously as it opens just enough for me to slip inside. The noise of the souls behind me cuts off as the rusted gate closes with a deafening boom. Behind the door of Pride, I see it. Vast palatial halls stretch before me. Proud statues hold their heads and blades aloft into the air. In the distance I see a vast and ancient throne, and I approach it without fear. This is what I have chosen, and I do not fear the ramifications of my choice. Let any challenger come, I am prepared. I see a figure upon the throne as I approach it. Once it was a tall man. Once it was a man with a straight back and a imperious glare which could silence lesser men with fear. Once it was an emperor. Once it was an angel." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: The year is 3019 and you are a space captain thats reached the end of the universe. That is until you hit an invisible wall." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "We passed by the last star 4 years ago, leaving nothing but the darkness of space ahead of us.  This journey began when the intelligent species of the known universe banded together in an effort to find the edge of space, and what was beyond.  Now, years of eating, sleeping, and documenting were coming to fruition.  This chosen team of talented and varied species was one jump away from reaching the edge.\n\n“I can see it through the wormhole”, my reptilian second-in-command said, shivering with anticipation.\n\n“Then take us through, and slowly, we’ll be only three feet from the edge, and I want us to have every moment of reaction time we can get.” I replied.\n\nHe nodded, and we inched toward the wormhole: its wispy illumination blinding us as we got closer.  ‘This was it’, I thought silently to myself, ‘I wonder what’s beyond it. Guess we’ll finally find out’.  A loud crack reverberated throughout the air, and my body was suddenly light and almost disconnected from reality.  As we exited, billions of light years from where we were, we were met with a murky haze.  It stretched truly astronomical distances in all directions, pulsing with a soft light.  We were there.\n\n    I addressed the driver directly this time: “Slowly Gil’Ter, you got this”.  The many armed alien simply nodded back, pressing multiple buttons to keep us steady in our approach.  Two feet were left, then one.  I held my breath and kept my eyes wide open for what was past the universe.  A heavy thud shook the ship, and we all hurdled forward.\n\n    “What was that” I asked, hoping for an answer from anyone.  Confused faces were all I saw, all wondering the same thing.  Then Gil’Ter pointed at the haze of the end, which had been marked with a sentence translated in all our languages: “We are not ready for you yet”.\n\n“What does that mean,” my second-in-command shouted, past the boiling point of rage.\n\n    The previous message then faded, and a new one came into existence: “You are not supposed to be here, we have not made this part yet, but it will be ready soon”.  \n\n“Who are you then, and what are you creating” I asked.\n\n“I am a craftsman, I build things.  Like this universe for example, or at least this part of it.  You weren’t supposed to find this, you were supposed to be squabbling among each other.” The entity wrote.\n\n    “And what are you building” I continued, fear building up despite my resolve not to.\n\n    The writing faded once again, but minutes passed before the response arrived.  “A game for my amusement”.  Then the haze lifted, and we saw a monstrous eye larger than a thousand suns clear as day even millions of light years away, the rest still shrouded.  “It will be ready in about two decades, so warn the rest will you.”  \n\n    Some reacted in shock, some in fear, and some in despair, but we were all in unison in thinking one thing.  The trip to this edge of space had taken thirty years." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: \"Many children had been orphaned by the recent dragon attack. Yet, this one was different. She was missing a leg. She could barely see. She looked as though she hadn't eaten in days. And yet, she had the most intense and powerful magical aura you had ever seen in a human\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The orphanage reeked of human despair. Newly orphaned children still grieving their parent's passing, orphans new and old struggling with injuries that would haunt them for the rest of their lives, caretakers worrying how they'll ever feed this many new faces. Ordinarily this is the last place I would be. I know it sounds heartless, but wallowing in other people's misery is usually the least productive thing I could be doing at a given time.\n\nBut the signal was so strong here I simply couldn't ignore it. I closed my eyes so I could see better, shutting out all the noise so I could focus on the feeling that brought me here.\n\nThere, in the corner.\n\nI opened my eyes and saw the source of the signal. It was a girl, 12 years at the oldest. Her eyes were covered with blood-soaked bandages and one of her leg was missing just below the knee. She wasn't the worst injured person here, but she would certainly struggle to get by. I made my way over to her cot and sat down on the ground beside her.\n\n\"Hello\" I said softly, to avoid startling her.\n\nShe stayed quiet. Didn't even turn towards me.\n\n\"Can you tell me your name?\"\n\nShe remained silent.\n\n\"It's alright. You've had a rough day, you don't need to talk to anyone. But I wanted to talk to you.\"\n\n\"Do you know what magic is? You don't have to talk, just nod.\"\n\nShe nodded.\n\n\"Good. I'm a wizard. I do magic and help people. And one of the things I can do with my magic is tell where other magic is. And I can feel an awful lot of magic coming from you.\"\n\nThat got her attention. She bolted upright and looked at me. \"I didn't mean to! It's wasn't my fault!\"\n\n\"It's ok. I'm not accusing you of anything. The thing is, there aren't a lot of wizards, and I think you could be really good at it. So I was wondering if you would like me to teach you.\"\n\nShe relaxed and sat quietly for a moment.\n\n\"I can't help anyone. I make bad stuff happen. Dad said I was cursed, and it was my fault mom disappeared. Now Dad disappeared too, and everyone else is hurt, and it's all my fault. I didn't want to hurt anybody. I promise I didn't.\"\n\nShe curled up as best she could with her injuries and began crying.\n\n\"It's ok. It's not your fault. You know, people said the same thing about me when I was your age. It'd hard being special. But I found someone to teach me how to use it to help people, and you know what they say about me now?\"\n\nShe stopped crying for a moment and looked up at me.\n\n\"They say 'thank you.' I can teach you how to help people. Then they'll thank you too.\"\n\n\"Do you really think I can help people?\"\n\n\"I really do. So what do you say, do you want to be a wizard?\"\n\nShe paused to think it over, then nodded firmly. \"Yes. I wanna be a wizard.\"\n\n\"Well alright then. Let's find whoever's in charge here and tell them you're leaving.\"\n\nShe turned to stand up and remembered her missing leg.\n\n\"Um, mister, I can't walk.\"\n\n\"That's fine,\" I said. \"Wizards don't need to walk.\" I cast a simple levitation spell and she started to float an inch off the ground. \"That one's easy. I think I'll teach you how to do that first.\"\n\nShe spun around in the air, grinning ear to ear.\n\n\"By the way, my name is Mathias Windcarver. And you never told me your name.\"\n\n\"Oh, sorry. My name is Adelaide Stevens.\"\n\n\"Adelaide is a very good name, but we'll have to do something about your last name. No self respecting wizard would go by Stevens.\"\n\n\"Well I didn't pick it! I was born with it.\"\n\n\"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll earn a much more impressive wizard name soon.\" I adjusted the spell keeping her afloat to follow me, and I set out in search of whoever was in charge of adoption." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: A put their hands on B's shoulders, looked them in the eye, and said \"You're about to see some scary stuff, but I need you to remember: it's still me, and I'm going to get you out of here safely,\" before they leapt at the rampaging beast, their form shifting midair into a monster themselves." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I left her tied to that post, even as she screamed behind me. I couldn't spend my time working about where she was. At least on the post, she was relatively safe. The remaining villagers were posted nearby, many sporting injuries, but holding their weapons tightly. They were no good at attacking, but they knew damn well how to defend.\n\nAs I jumped, time seemed to slow for me. I could see the bodies around me of the professional hunters. They had called themselves that, but given how quickly they fell apart I doubt it. A few were still on their feet, bravely trying to take the beast down. But their simple weapons just glanced off its fur.\n\nI knew I was the only one who could stop it. I had hoped it wouldn't come to this, but rarely did I get what I wanted. I felt within myself, and let go of my disguise. As I fell from my supernaturally high jump, I felt the wave of change. The soft skin of my body turned hard, sprouting large scales. I bulged out, clothing tearing away as I grew to my proper size.\n\nMy mouth grew warm, expanding and changing to that of a predator. Even my senses changed, becoming far sharper than they used to be. As I landed, the ground shook. The beast turned to me, its eyes flashing with joy at the sight of a challenge. It's tendrils dropped the hunter it held, before rushing me.\n\nI roared, feeling the rush of true battle. With my other half relying on me, I could not fall. My tail, newly grown arched overhead, the stinger dripping with venom. I stretched out my claws, meeting the beast head on. With its two dozen thick tendrils, it could hit at a rapid pace. I had to be on the defensive at first, as I sized up its attack method.\n\nWhat I saw pleased me. This was just a simple warped beast. Strong, angry, but little in the way of brains. It knew how to kill, but not how to fight. That was the difference between us. I knew how to adapt. And adapt I would.\n\nThe tendrils were my main concern. There were too many to keep track of, and I had to pay attention to the villagers as well. I knew them all, and they had to survive. I wasn't going to let them die. I let one through, as it came to my head. I could see its end covered in bony protusions, as it darted for my eyes.\n\nBut before it reached them, I ducked under it. One claw grasped it, pulling it into perfect position. I didn't hesitate, biting through the rubbery flesh. A bitter taste filled my mouth, but I held on as I tore through the muscles. With a snap I pulled it away, severing it.\n\nThe beast screeched, increasing its attacks. I defended, hiding a small shudder as I swallowed a little of its blood. I let the rest dribble out, hiding the fact I had started my second strike. As it raged on, I severed more tendrils, dropping them to the ground.\n\nI felt a cold wave start in my tail. A glance told me everything I needed to know. The scales that ran along the top began to change. Keeping pace with the cold wave, the deep green was darkening to a black. With that in mind, and after removing a quarter of its tendrils, I switched it up.\n\nI went on the offensive, shoving and clawing. It seemed to appreciate it more, trying to do a similar thing. But with a quarter of its strength gone, it was already on the losing side. But I still had to be wary. Those protrusions still hurt, and a few hits carved rents in my hide. But I pushed on.\n\nAfter a few minutes, the cold had reached my stinger. I grinned, arching it up. The venom, once clear, now dripped in pitch black. I surged forwards, piercing its torso. It roared, jumping away. But it was too late. I had already delivered the dose.\n\nThe effects were soon apparent. It stumbled, as parts of its body locked up. My poison, a paralytic created specifically for this creature was swift. Its eyes finally showed fear, understanding that it was my fault. It tried to run, but it was far, far too late.\n\nWith a crash, it fell to the ground. I stalked over, keeping a wary eye on it, Justin casein was a trap. But I needed have worried. It was too simple for that. It couldn't escape as I stood over it in domination. I had won. I reached back with my claws, before speaking them into its chest. I didn't seek to torture it, but instead aimed for its heart.\n\nFinding the organ, I tore it out. The beast let out a low moan, that faded into silence. I let it fall, before turning back to her. Her face wasamask of emotion that I had a hard time reading. I winced, padding over to the post. The binding fell as I sliced them, and she looked up at me.\n\n\"Eve? Are you ok?\"\n\nI nodded, before looking down at my body. Her gaze followed, and her cheeks pinked before looking in my face.\n\n\"Do you need some clothes?\"\n\nI nodded again. She was taking this remarkably well. I thought too soon though, asshe stared atme, and a little hysteria crept into her voice.\n\n\"Fine, I will get you some. Then, you can change back, and tell me what THE HELL IS THIS!\"\n\nI winced. This was not going to be fun." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Everyone is born either blind or deaf. You were raised as a deaf, as you have vision, but just found that you aren't supposed to hear sounds." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Since life had started, the war had been raging. An eternal constant of religious belief. Some are meant to see, others meant to hear. The God of Sight bestows the quiet wonder of color. The God of Hearing composes the symphony of sound, of ambiance and speech. To them, the other is blasphemy, an insult to how the world is meant to be experienced. And so we war and we fight until the chosen people remain.\n\nI was raised amongst the sighted. I grew up in a continent of color. We wore bright clothes and enjoyed the freedom of open spaces. Anyone could go anywhere anytime and without requiring any help. We could communicate through sign language and written word and see the emotions on others’ faces. Truly our God was the better.\n\nI grew up feeling fortunate, the war something the adults hid from us children. I grew up running and playing with my friends, learning my work, and always thanking the God of Sight for blessing me. I learned to hate disbelievers, though I never encountered any, and I was excited for when I turned eighteen to chop off my ears during my manhood ceremony.\n\nThis was the only life I ever knew and it was the only life I ever thought existed. Only when I was sixteen did I realize that something was different, that something was not right. I had always experienced a sensation I could not explain. Sounds all around me boomed constantly. It was like my inside voice, but it was outside. Anytime someone moved, I would hear them. Anytime the masks over their mouths twitched, I would hear a noise. Sometimes I thought I heard the others. I heard their inside voices from the outside too.\n\nIt was around this time that they started teaching us about the war. We started training for our service. I learned then that what I had been experiencing was called hearing. My ears, those filthy things at the side of my head, had brought in blasphemy. They had brought in the unclean sound to the temple that was my body. I panicked. I wanted to kill myself. A tightness gripped my stomach and I wanted to cut off my ears then and there. How could I be so evil? How could I be so impure? Was there any way to repent?\n\nI dared not mention my abilities to anyone else. Over the past year I have kept to myself and prayed often. At nights I sneak out, a task quite easily done when there is no one to hear, and I read the banned books at the library. I read the books only those with the highest clearances are allowed to read. I read of those who worship the God of Hearing and of their lives. To them hearing is a blessing. They have refined sound to create art, to communicate. I read about these people and I wonder how I can kill them. How can I take up arms against them? What God would want us to kill because we are different?\n\nI have mulled on this for some time and I think I know what I will do. It may mean the end of my life, but what is life in a world such as where I live. This fighting must stop. The war must be over. When I turn eighteen I will refuse to cut my ears off and I will preach a different message, one of togetherness. Perhaps we could accept one another instead of doing our Gods’ work. Why must there be a God of Sight and of Hearing? Maybe there is only one. Maybe there is none. I don’t know. I don’t know whether my message will get through either. I hope it does. I hope there will be change. Maybe I am too optimistic, but so what. I can’t ignore the turmoil that I see. I can’t ignore the cries I hear. I have to try." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1200-1300 words. Prompt: Other immortals have amassed great fortunes, but in the 200 years since you turned you couldn't bring yourself to take advantage of the humans and make the same profits. At this point, you can't honestly afford gas for your '98 Toyota." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The last stitch is usually the hardest to get in. Stephen gritted his teeth as he felt around, puncturing the skin in what he hoped was the right place. Taking your own kidney out is never easy. Maybe next time he could at least get a cleaner mirror than the one he used in the rundown motel on Route 66. And some painkillers would be nice as well. But considering that he can’t even afford gas for his '98 Toyota, the idea of a sedative almost seems laughable. Besides, kidneys usually grow back pretty quickly.\n\nThere is no knock on the door when they come. Men dressed in black fatigues kicked down the hotel door. Stephen jumped, not from the sound, he's used to that by now, but for the owner of the hotel. The guy has three daughters all under the age of five. He has enough problems. Without hesitation, Stephen raised the scalpel still in his hand and cut his throat. The blood spilled out of him and onto the medical cooler containing his kidney.\n\n“Target down!” the man in charge said as he ran to cover the wound on Stephen’s neck. It’s too late. Stephen’s eyes have already glossed over. “Sir, we’ve lost the target,” radioed the man.\n\n“There goes the bonus,” said another man, removing his black ski mask and pointing his gun towards the ceiling. That’s the moment that Stephen was waiting for.\n\nHe buries the scalpel in the leader’s eye and grabs his machine gun. In one smooth motion, Stephen kills all three mercenaries in the room. Each shot a direct hit in the forehead. There’s no need for a follow-up bullet. Stephen has always believed in one and done.\n\n“You guys are getting quicker,” Stephen said to the leader’s body that lays in almost the exact place where Stephen died. Or died and came back. It’s a little like Jesus but without all the religious fanfare, and that’s the way Stephen prefers it. As an immortal, he would like to remain unknown. There’re too many complications.\n\nHe grabs the medical cooler with his kidney and jumps out the window. There are a couple of more guards around the perimeter, but they are easily taken care of. Stephen spent time with some sneaky monks a hundred or so years ago. They are one of the reasons the other immortals aren’t able to capture him. Or at least why they can’t hold him. He's been captured plenty of times.\n\nCalmly, as if he is on a Sunday drive, he gets into their black SUV and drives away towards Mexico. He makes a plan to come back one day for his Toyota. He likes that car. It’s got all his radio stations already programed.\n\nHe’s always gone by the name Stephen through his long life. He was born a Stephano in Spain. Became Stiven for a while in Moscow. The monks just called him Phen. He prefers the Americanized Stephen though. It feels more…ordinary. The other immortals have always kept their names spelled exactly how they were born. Allatu, Bisa, Cael-to name a few. There are more but he never bothered to remember anyone else past the A, B, Cs. They use their money and their power gained over centuries to keep questions away. All of them do.\n\nAnd they’ve always taken. Everything. They profit from war. They profit from poverty. They profit from excess. It’s always been about money with them. Power. They don’t care what happens to the world as long as they get to live in excess. In the beginning, in Moscow, Stiven saw Bisa sell a live man off for dissection. When it was pointed out that the man wasn’t dead, she killed him. Stiven ran soon after that. And they’ve been chasing. They have their reasons. But if Stephen can finish today things will be better.\n\nStephen parks the SUV in a Walmart and hitchhikes the rest of the way to Mexico. He knows that they’ll find the car soon enough, of course, but it will take time to find him. Immortals can find each other, given enough time. And the trucker that picked him up and took him across the border may have given him the extra time.\n\nOr not. Maybe he’s gotten predictable in the last 200 years?\n\nStephen arrived at the clinic to find Allatu, Bisa, and Cael waiting for him.\n\n“We can’t let you do it,” said Allatu, still favoring his Mesopotamian accent.\n\n“We’ve already killed the doctor,” said Bisa, her bright-colored robe draped easily over her shoulders.\n\n“I say we just stick him in a hole and see what happens after a couple hundred years,” said Cael. Stephen hated Cael’s red hair as much as his cruelty.\n\nStephen doesn’t say anything because there is nothing left to say. There’s nothing left to do. Yes, the doctor is dead, but there will be others. The immortals have faith in their arrogance, in their paid mercenaries outside, in their immortality. But they have never had faith in humanity, and that is the difference between Stephen and them. He knew that they would always find this sleepy Mexican town with the doctor that transplants his organs to the poor. A heart here, a kidney there. Once he even gave an eye. It didn’t take but it was worth a shot. He’s given away thousands of his organs. And they have all found a home here, in this town, with these people.\n\nThey come from far and wide. Unable to get a transplant because they don’t have the money or the connections, they find their way to Isla Du Majeures. They don’t know how or why, but they do. Doctors find their way here, too. They stay for a while and then move on. Complete transplants that always seem to go perfectly even though the clinic isn't the most hygienic. The organs thrive. The people thrive. They gain back their strength.\n\nAnd they call this little town their home. Stephen can feel every single one of them. Thousands. Outside right now. Slowly walking toward the clinic, each with a piece of him in them.\n\nThere are gunshots outside, but it is short. Allatu goes to the window and comes back looking paler than the thousands of years that he’s been alive. Bisa’s eyes go wide. Cael charges Stephen but it’s at that moment that the door burst open. But this time, It’s Stephen’s people.\n\nThe Big Three are quickly subdued. A doctor, a man that Stephen has never met, comes in last. Stephen hands him the cooler. One fresh kidney.\n\nThere is a popping in the air. Stephen's eyes go hazy for a minute and then they refocus. It’s done. Stephen is mortal again. And so are all the immortals. Allatu’s silent scream confirms it for Stephen.\n\nStephen bends down to the three.\n\n“True immortality is what you give to others. It’s their memory. It’s their love. It’s not money or possessions. No matter how old you get, they are just things. Giving others a chance at life is truly allowing yourself to live forever.”\n\nAnd with that, Stephen turned, left the clinic, and found an old Ford Pickup truck. It would probably get him all the way back to the hotel if he could borrow some gas money. He had a door to fix for a man with three daughters in a hotel on Route 66. As he drives away, he hears the screams of the no longer immortal immortals being hacked to pieces." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You are an owner of a small convenience store sitting in your office when a confused cashier walks in holding some kind of round metal pieces \"some old man is trying to pay with these\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I look down at the scattering of battered currency on my desk; A tiny Australian 5 cent Echidna, a big and heavy 5 Swiss Francs with a chunk missing from one corner, a last-of-the-line late William V two pound coin with a greasy shine, a heavily clipped silver argenteus with what appeared to be my old friend Diocletian on one side, an unmarked drier token and an Indian 10 paisa with 8 scalloped sides.\n\nShe drops another handful; a mud-caked Spanish Dollar, a triangular Bermudan 3 dollar, a pair of Krugerrands, an Iraqi Dinar, a Japanese 50 Yen and a jumble of others I wasn't able to instantly identify.\n\nAfter a long moment I look up at my assistant, Bliss, and try to hide the fear in my voice while the significance of each one flashes through my mind in a jumble of memories and sensations and my blood starts to run cold, \"Give him what he wants, and tell him to come back at midnight.\"\n\nShe shrugs, and turns to go.\n\n\"Wait,\" I say. \"Don't look him in the eye.\"\n\nShe rolls her eyes, and slouches back down the stairs. God, what I'd give for her coolness in the face of that man.\n\nI listen hard, holding my breath to heat the door creak open and shut, which it does. Even after all these years getting comfortable and complacent, I always made sure the door would creak. As much good as that has done me, now I'm hold up here like a rat in a trap.\n\nAnother look at the coins, and my former wariness, flightiness even, seems suddenly justified. Each time I dropped everything and ran for my life, he was right behind.\n\nThe late night unannounced exit from the ski in and out bar in Switzerland, hurtling blindly downhill knowing I'd never set eyes on those friends again, suddenly real and terrifying once more.\n\nThe bone-freezing dawn escape across the channel into France, echoes of the Scarlet Pimpernel as the last English King was captured and cut down by the Faragistes, fleeing the chaos that I knew would make it easier for him to find my trail.\n\nThe Indian paisa, and the painful thoughts of fleeing the train to hike back up the mountain alone, being assumed dead by travel companions as I left yet another life and identity behind forever.\n\nThe Echidna confirmed what I'd doubted for years, relentlessly doubting myself and my over-sensitive instincts. Not returning to the boat and instead swimming back to shore caused massive problems for the diving company, and hitch hiking the length of the country was an experience I'd rather not relive.\n\nAnd now another life was over, it was time to leave behind the accumulated experience and stuff of yet another existence and search the world for another quiet place to settle.\n\nSuch is the price of tricking a demon into giving the gift of immortality. The slow but ceaseless pursuit that means I can never rest, never fully relax.\n\nIt's a long time since he's been this close, and I need to move quickly. I always have a bag packed, but this time I've been complacent and lazy. The clothes will be dated by now, if they fit at all, and I should have made better financial decisions.\n\nI take the bag from the cupboard and have one last look at my home of the last 40 years. Only my home, I long since gave up on the idea of a family I'd one day have to abandon. Maybe once I find another life it will be time to revisit that thought.\n\nThe clock says 10.13pm, that gives me just over half an hour to make the ferry. If I can make that, maybe I'll be far enough away by midnight to disappear by morning. Maybe…" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Today, you have become a parent. You realise that you can hear your child's thoughts. The midwife informs you that this is the same for everyone but parents simply don't inform the children as an unwritten rule. Your own parents smirk." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I sighed and looked down at my daughter bundled comfortable in my arms, her petite face resting against my chest which was barely covered by the uncomfortable hospital attire. She was beautiful, I didn't have a name decided yet, I wanted to see what her personality was like before choosing one of the two that I was stuck on. I wonder how much she would be like me, and how much she would end up being like her father. Although I could already tell that she had my eyes, she certainly had his nose and his mouth.\n\nI heard a noise again, so much unlike a cry and more like a small voice echoing inside my head. I shook it off, it must be the lack of sleep. Between going into labor and all the visitors we had had this morning, there had been little time to rest up for me.\n\nI glanced over to my parents and saw my mother smiling at me, and my father hiding the twitch at the corner of his mouth as I shook off the tiny little whisper in my head. I clearly needed to shoo everyone away to get a nap in, but I didn't have the heart to tell my parents to leave.\n\nThe midwife came into the room, it was time to get my vitals, check up on my daughters feeding and her weight, looks like my nap was going to have to wait.\n\n\"How are you feeling? Any soreness?\" She asked me as she looked over the feeding journal I had been filling out all day.\n\n\"I mean it's not awful, I don't feel great, but it's certainly not comfortable. I already told you that I don't want any painkillers, I can manage without.\" I almost whined the last part, I was tired of these check ins and it hadn't even been twenty four hours yet!\n\n\"I know, I remember that. I wasn't going to ask. Is everything else ok though?\" The midwife asked this as if she knew something I didn't.\n\nI smiled slightly and leaned back against my pillow. \"I mean, I'm exhausted, it's taking it's toll, I swear that I'm hearing little voices in my head. I'll be fine after I get a good nap in, I'll feed her again first though.\"\n\nThe midwife, her name was Rebecca, I think. She smiled at my parents, making eye contact for a moment before looking back to me as I glanced between them.\n\n\"You aren't hearing voices, and it's not the exhaustion, although you'll have many nights of that from here on out. You're hearing your daughters thoughts, all parents can hear their children.\"\n\n\"Excuse me?\" I blinked and sat up staring at her incredulously, there was no way that I heard that correctly, no way.\n\n\"All parent's can hear the thoughts of their children. Although we tend to never tell children that. Once they know, the parents start to lose the ability, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly. Didn't you ever wonder how your mother knew everything?\"\n\nMy eyes got wide, I'm sure if this was true my parents heard the string of curse words flying through my head. I felt a pluck, like someone snipping a tightly wound string inside me, I couldn't tell you where, but that was exactly what it felt like. Then the panic really set in, I turned to look at my mother, being careful to not wake my daughter.\n\nAnd there it was that all knowing smirk that I had seen my entire life from my mother, while my father just smiled, not holding back at all. He knew damn well what I was thinking without hearing it anymore.\n\nThat was how they knew what I did with my boyfriends, how they knew things before I ever told them. They knew when I lost my virginity, they knew why I got fired from my first job, and why I failed out senior year of college. They knew what drugs I had done and what I had turned down. Worst of all they knew the things that my husband and I were into, they knew the day my daughter was conceived. They knew everything.\n\nI wanted to disappear into my bed and hide from them for now, but I couldn't. Soon I would understand how this universal secret of parenthood worked and I would use it to guide my daughter and keep her safe.\n\nBut in the meantime, I could only think of how horrifying this was.\n\nThey knew everything." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: Viewpoint of a girl who loves her father, The viewpoint of that fathers love for that girl. She is an A.I in a synthetic body and doesn't know and he is dying." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Today I am twenty five. The same age my pops was when I was born.\n\nWhen I come down the stairs he is in the kitchen. The whir of the fab on the oven buzzes blurs in to the sound of him singing. When I get to the foot of the stairs I see him. He is wearing mom's old apron. Smears of butter stripe its front. Flour dusts his cheeks. He is holding a wooden spoon that is crusted with cake mix. And in to that spoon he is singing. The song is familiar but I can't quite place it. Upbeat and jolly.\n\n'Ooh, Isabelle.'\n\nHe stood when he sees me. Red surfaces on his neck and spreads over his pale cheeks. I wish he hadn't seen me.\n\n'Happy birthday!'\n\nHe holds out his arms and walks towards me.\n\n'I'm a bit buttery at the moment.' He lowers his arms and instead he kisses me on the cheek. That's him all over, there's always a way around the problem.\n\n'Half a century.' His mouth wavers in to a smile. There is a sadness that always curdles his smiles on special occasions. I think that's just the kind of person he is. He never surrenders to happiness.\n\n'Thank you, dad! Where's my tiara and wand? Come on, I've been up for ten minutes now!' I check my imaginary watch before clapping my hands. 'Chop chop!'\n\nHis smile loses its pessimism then. Retrieving his wooden spoon, he starts singing in to it again. I join in; we are both tuneless and pitchless and loud. Joyful.\n\nThe cake sinks in the oven. I told him not to keep opening the door but he assured me it would be fine. His confidence inflated as the cake survived further inspections without caving.\n\nIt wasn't until right at the end. I hear him bang the oven door shut and rush in to the kitchen. Cake is on the floor, broken into smouldering chunks. He is scraping a bowl of pink icing in to trash.\n\n'Dad!'\n\n'I know, I know Is. You told me that would happen.' The spoon hits the trash can with a metallic clank.\n\n'I'll go to the bakery later.'\n\nI am so surprised to see him give up that hot tears sprung in to my eyes.\n\nX\n\n'Don't cry, Is.'\n\nWhen she cries she is reduced to a small child again in my eyes. It's hard not to weep with her. Her mother wept when she knew she was leaving us. I saw how it broke Isabelle, to keep her own tears inside while her mother cried on her shoulder. I promised I wouldn't put her through that.\n\nOnce I have tidied the angry mess I made she sits at the table and I tell her I am going to get her gifts. As I walk behind her, I grab her by the throat, my forearm restraining her chin so she can't bite me like last time.\n\nThere is a flap of plastic in that hard to reach spot, the one you can never itch yourself, just below the shoulder blades. I flick it open and disable her functions. Her head hangs limp, a waterfall of chestnut hair curtailing her face. This was how she was twenty five years ago. Model 5-A12. The Isabelle chip. I remove that not. Pinching it between my fingernails.\n\nFor a moment I stop and hold the little chip on my palm. A grey square, no bigger than my little fingernail. Gold strips running along the bottom. All of that data; her voice, her motion, the rhythm for her heartbeat.\n\nSometimes I forget she isn't human. Her breathing mechanism is remarkably unobtrusive. Her eyes flicker when she is thinking. She bites her lip when she is nervous. For every upgrade of her we have made, from child to teenager to adult, she has always retained that sense of humanity.\n\nNow, I have to leave her. My lungs are shrunken and bobbled. Tumours pushing on my ribs, making my back sear. It hurts all over. That's why I dropped the cake. I couldn't hold it anymore; it hurt too much.\n\nInside an A6 piece of bubble wrap I place the chip. Folding it over, I wrap it as carefully as I would have done her gift. She is still sitting beside me. Prone and lifeless. The house is so quiet.\n\nOn the envelope is the return address for the manufacturer. For a moment the thought flits through my mind; of it being formatted. Everything about her wiped.\n\nThe thought of her death is more painful than my impending own.\n\nLicking the envelope, I seal the fold and then call for a mail pick up. If I don't do it now, I might change my mind. And that would be unfair on Isabelle. A parent's love takes many forms, I think. I am just protecting her. That's all." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: One seemingly normal day, you stumble upon a strange scroll. Curious, you decide to read the strange gibberish inside, when you're sudddenly gifted with god-like magic." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“How did you get shot, Mila?” Tom asked me. “You have magic powers!”\n\nI conjured a drink of juice from my mind, and drank slowly. Tom glared at me, and I could feel him waiting for a response. Good.\n\nI slowly put the glass down, and said “Someone snuck up on me. I didn't notice, cause I was trying to get on another level in Candy Crush.”\n\n“Can't you use your powers to just win Candy Crush?” pointed out Tom.\n\n“That would take out all the fun. Anyway, by the time I realized that Jimmy had attacked me, I was on the floor. I was kinda shocked he even remembered me. Guess he didn't like when I won every single game in his casino.”\n\n“Mila, you're an idiot,” he said. “Just try not to get arrested again. Not everyone had god-like powers that let them fix things. People start asking questions.”\n\nHe threw me out of the car, and left me on the side of the road. Jerk. He didn't even offer to give me a ride home. I mean, I can teleport home. But it's the principle of the thing.\n\nSnapping my fingers, I found myself in front of my sister's house. Shoot, I intended to go to my apartment. Guess it was my subconscious direction, or whatever my therapist said. I decided to give her a visit.\n\n“Nice to see you, squirt,” Elsa said. She ruffled my hair, and let me in. I usually teleport into places, but I decided maybe I shouldn't show my powers around her. Don't wanna freak her out.\n\n“Well, I was in the neighborhood, and decided to show up”, I said. It was more or less true.\n\nSoon, we were reminiscing about old times. Elsa told me her fiance was doing well, and asked me whether or not I had gotten a job yet. I gave out edited responses, and I could tell she knew I was hiding something, but thankfully didn't press it.\n\nIt was weird, not using my powers. I was so used to making things appear out of thin air, immediately changing my surroundings to suit me, that just sitting down, talking to people, was weird.\n\n“Sometimes, I think about Bran,” she said. Her eyes looked sad, and I hated it. I nearly changed reality to make her smile, but it was against my code.\n\n“He was an asshole, Elsa. He called you names, and was abusive, then made you apologize for it,” I said. “He hit you. He deserved what happenned.”\n\n“Yeah, I know. But just...the way he died. Trapped under a car, underwater? It's like reality was twisting itself, just so he could die,” said Elsa. She shook her head.\n\n“Well, it let you move on to better pastures. You're happy now, right?” I said.\n\nElsa cocked her head at me, and said “You've changed ever since that trip to the temple,\" and as I raised my eyebrows, she continued \"and it's more than just the, um, gender-reassignment surgery. It's like, I dunno, you've gotten older, or more distant. Ah, who knows?”\n\nThe image of Bran's mother, crying at her son's funeral, flitted in front of my face. I waved my hand, and deleted it from my mind.\n\n“Why do you always do that hand-waving thing?” Elsa said.\n\n“Picked it up from the temple people. Anyway, I'd better get going. Wanna go get a breath of fresh air ,” I said.\n\n“Alright. Try not to get into any trouble”, said Elsa. She wrapped her arms around me, and squeezed. I hadn't realized how much I missed the feeling.\n\nI kissed her good-bye, and I walked away. Snapping my fingers, I found myself in the middle of a grassy field. Breathing in the air, I calmed my mind down. After a few minutes, I focused my mind on a specific point in space-time, and was soon teleported into a room.\n\nManu walked into the room, surprised to see me.\n\n“Where have you been? The rest of the volunteers were looking for you!” he said. By now, he should be used to me disappearing.\n\nI smiled, and said “Had to get some new supplies.”\n\n“Well, you're just in time. New hungry mouths to feed out there. Hope you don't run out,” said Manu.\n\n“I'll always have more,” I said to him, winking." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: Your main character has the ability to alter emotions. However, by doing so he/she will receive the opposite effect." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "For as long as people could remember he was considered the person to be around. Every party you went to, he was invited. Every night out, he was seated at the center of the table. Although he never hosted his own parties, or organized his own nights out, he was sure to be at any event put on by one of his numerous friends.\n\nNot that it wasn't deserved, mind you. If anybody deserved a large group of friends and fantastic parties, it was him. He just had this way about him, and everyone who had ever met him seemed to feel a very similar feeling. In fact, the first time I met him it was borderline indescribable.\n\nWe were at the same party together, and one of my friends knew him. I was led over, and at first I could care less. I was there to drink away all the stress of the week, and maybe get a little lucky with the ladies as it had been a lot longer than I was proud of. That was mostly what I was thinking of, and in fact I didn't even look him in the eyes when my name was introduced. At first anyways. He gave a firm handshake, and it was enough to get me to make eye contact for the first time. Once I did I seemed to just kind of forget about all the issues I walked into the party with. That hot girl that I probably wouldn't have a chance with disappeared from my peripheral vision, my money troubles seemed like a distant memory, and I got so focused on that moment, that handshake, and I smiled. He smiled back, though it seemed pained whenever I looked back on it.\n\nSo I got to know him better. After that handshake, I had to know the man behind it. He actually also considered me one of his better friends, possibly even his best friend. Being as close as we were, I got to tag along with him to many of the events that he frequented, and it was always the same story. Large groups of people around him, he would laugh, shake their hand or clap their back, and they would just seem to disappear into the moment.\n\nAs I got to know him on a much more personal level, I started to notice something pretty interesting. With these large groups, things were great. However, when we would be one on one, and he would start to talk about the more personal aspects of his life like the distant father or the abusive step mother, I would start to feel sad. And I mean, obviously I'm going to get sad hearing about that kind of stuff, but really sad. Just so full of pain and heartbreak that I wasn't sure I could get through the conversation. But, after dealing with that for a few minutes, it all went back to normal again. That same warmth would return, he would smile and we would share a few beers.\n\nSo that leads me to the incident last week. He was driving us both home from a party after I had had a few too many, when he spotted something in the distance. Everything felt so normal, which is now a word I don't really understand anymore. He stopped, and told me not to leave the car for my own safety. It sounds strange but I don't think he was talking about the fact that I was drunk. The man was standing on the bridge, and it looked more serious than the scenes you see on TV. This man wasn't going to hesitate, or be talked down. His mission that night was that he was going to jump off that bridge, and I saw that in his eyes for the brief second he glanced my direction.\n\nBut then my friend approached him, much more cautiously than he would approach a group at a party, and the man did hesitate. That was all that my friend needed to hold out his hand and grasp this man's who felt he was at the last seconds of his own life. A mere seconds later, though I'll admit it felt like hours, the man slowly gets down from the bridge. I am ecstatic. What happened next, however, is something I don't think I will ever understand, and yet at the same time I think I know exactly what happened. It's also the reason I was chosen to give the eulogy today, because I think I am the only one who had a chance of understanding. My friend glanced back at me, and for a brief second I saw in his eyes the exact same emotion that the man had shot at me a moment ago. The pain, it was so evident it was screaming at me. And at that exact same moment, I felt a level of happiness I could never have imagined, and I know that I will never feel that level of happiness again. And then my friend jumped off the bridge." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: You are trapped in a metal corridor with no means of escape. A creature is slowly coming with the intention of killing you. You have no means of rest or using basic hygiene products like the lavatory. Your only food is a single sandwich every two miles." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At first, I had sprinted as fast as I could away from the creature. Eventually, I was walking slow enough to keep an eye on it. The monster was bigger than me and pure muscle. But in the confined space, it had to crawl which made it slow. It's teeth were razor sharp. Its eyes glowed red.\n\nBut it was real. And real things use energy. Energy that is sustained by eating. And I was getting hungry. That's about the time that the first sandwich popped up. Big. Beautiful. A plentiful amount of tomatoes. A good balance of meat and bread. Amazing hand made mayo. It was the perfect sandwich.\n\nThat gave me a dilemma. In the battle between hunter and prey, it's normally a war of attrition. The sandwiches had enough moisture in the tomatoes to sustain my fluids. The meat had protein. The bread, carbohydrates. The sandwich was big, maybe 1000 calories. I was only burning about 100 calories a mile, and I was being given a sandwich every two. That left a surplus of over half a sandwich of unnecessary calories and weight. Unnecessary calories that I didn't want going to the monster.\n\nIt looks like they had thought of everything. I could keep carrying the sandwiches, which would add weight and wear me out. Or, I could eat the sandwiches, which would almost accomplish the same thing. I couldn't prevent the sandwiches from being left behind at some point. At 1lb per sandwich, I would only make it at most 3 days before being laden with 30+ pounds of sandwiches. I'm not weak, but I don't have that kind of stamina.\n\nRather than wait 3 days to find out what would happen if the monster got a sandwich, I had decided to give it one pretty much immediately. It had gobbled it up. So, it likes sandwiches and it wants to eat me and evidently we're all stuck down in a corridor together. I couldn't starve it to death (my original plan). I had to think of another way.\n\nI'd like to say that the idea hit me light a lightbulb. But it hadn't. More like the form of a smelly burp. My smelly burp. Full of the fresh, partly processed smells of fresh sandwich. With fresh mayo. I stopped giving the monster the leftover portion of sandwich. Instead, I held onto it. And held onto it. For almost I day I gathered sandwiches, keeping track of which one was the oldest. The monster was getting very, very hungry.\n\nMayo doesn't sit will outside of the fridge. In fact, it can become quite deadly - especially in mixed mediums. Like meat that is also outside of a fridge. And I had just given the monster four deadly sandwiches. It gobbled them right up. I continued collecting sandwiches, eating some of the fresh one and holding onto the rest of it before laying down more deadly sandwiches. I was practically juggling over a dozen sandwiches at a time.\n\nBy the middle of day two, the monster showed its first sign of problems. I'd like to point out that I had also been eating all of the tomatoes from the sandwiches. The monster had been going without fluids for over 24 hours. And it was slowing down and frothing at the mouth. The mayo finally took its toll and the monster spewed out an unworldly conglomerate of sandwich pieces and bile. I had the foresight to keep my distance; I'm not sure what bacteria live in its stomach.\n\nI was low on sleep, but I knew that if I ran for a bit I could buy myself an hour's worth of time while crawled to catch up. The monster made enough noise on the metal walls to wake me up when it got close, so I wasn't very worried about getting killed while resting. I've got to admit, that first hour of sleep was the best I'd gotten in a long time.\n\nThe metal grating woke me from my slumber. The monster was getting close. I went and took a look at it. It was breathing heavy. Its eyes didn't have the bright glow that they originally had. The teeth were dull from what must have been a whole slew of vomiting. I could almost touch survival. Another day, and I knew it would be dead.\n\nSo I had waited. And it had died. It wasn't an amazing, victorious feeling. More of a quiet loss of life. When you're alone with another living being, you oddly become attached to its presence. I walked for a bit further down the corridor by myself. I came across what would be my final sandwich, when a door opened next to me.\n\n\"Space Cadet, would you mind explaining yourself.\" It was the American General. I had heard of him, of course. This was my first time meeting him. \"Well, I volunteered for this challenge because no one had beaten it.\" It was true. There was no one else. It had appeared to be an impossible scenario, and none had escaped. I doubt the American space General had even expected me to finish alive. \"You weren't supposed to beat it. That's the point. You were supposed to go on for forever, give up, or get eaten.\"\n\nI looked at him for a bit. He looked at me. \"Want to try again? \"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: The bottom of the stone well disappears into darkness. Air, cold and stale, rushes up from the depths. You drop in a stone, and wait with baited breath to hear the splash—too long. Too deep. As you turn, a strange sound issues from the depths of the well—a voice, pleading for help." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The old well on the hill was the local oddity. No-one knew who made it, or even when it was made. In fact, it was said that the town was built next to the well, not the other way round. Its age, and strange location, naturally meant there was a local legend. Supposedly, a young man, down on his luck, dropped his last coin in the well, wishing to be saved.\n\nSomething inside the well accepted, and overnight he made his fortune. He had money, fame, all the attention he could possibly desire. Each year after, he would return to that well, and drop in a new coin, wishing to continue his lavish life. And each year, the thing inside accepted. But one year, it asked for something more in return. It wanted a sacrifice of blood, not metal.\n\nThe man refused, leaving it behind. And the thing inside the well waited. His life collapsed. His money, stolen. His fame, corrupted by speculation of crime. He was returned to a destitute state. In a rage, he returned to the well.\n\n\"Why did you take it away?!\"\n\n\"You weren't willing to pay the price.\"\n\nThe man grew angry, cursing the thing in the well. It laughed, reaching out at him.\n\n\"You wanted more. I wanted something in return. But you didn't give, so I will now take it.\"\n\nIt snatched him up, pulling him in. And supposedly since then, the well was dry. At night you can sometimes hear the man's cries, as he is tormented in the well.\n\nAt least, that's the legend. I never believed it. An actual wishing well? It was clearly nonsense. I reckon it was actually someone who got unlucky who committed suicide by jumping down it. Not some thing.\n\nI ventured to the well, eyeing the old stonework. It looked sturdy despite its age. The stones were laid flat, with no mortar to keep it in place. But with the size of them, it wouldn't be easy to move. As I drew closer, I saw the iron grille covering the opening. After fears of people falling in, the council had it installed. But you could still peer down into the dark depths.\n\nI idly picked up a stone, and dropped it through a gap. As it fell I kept quiet, listening out. I waited, and waited. But I didn't hear a splash or an impact. It must have been deeper then I thought. I leaned over, trying to see anything in there. The cold stale air blew over me. I shrugged, turning to leave.\n\n\"Help me...\"\n\nI whipped my head around. It sounded like someone was nearby, calling out to me. But I could see no-one atop this hill with me, and none down the side either. I was alone. I shivered, creeped out.\n\n\"Help me...\"\n\nI heard it again. It sounded slightly stronger. My eyes fell on the grille.\n\n\"Please.... Help me....\"\n\nI gasped. It had to be coming from the well. I cupped my hands over my mouth.\n\n\"Is someone there?!\"\n\nThere was a faint rushing sound, and the air seemed to be blown past me.\n\n\"Yes... please.... get me out...\"\n\nI peered down, trying to see who was there. The rushing sound grew louder, and I realised it was the sound of water. I could see faint movement, and gasped again as I saw water rise. Floating in it was a pale, man. He reached out, his arm shaking as if weighed down. I wormed my fingers into the grate.\n\n\"Oh my god, are you ok?! I'll get you out of there!\"\n\nThe water level continued to rise. His eyes seemed to sparkle with hope, as he reached for me. I was too focused on him, and it was too dark, for me to see the strange clothes he wore. He floated up, and reached further.\n\nThe water around him frothed, and splashed up. It rose into columns, that erupted through the grill. They bent impossiblly, wrapping around my upper body and pulling me down. I was unprepared, and found myself held fast against the grille. The man's face changed to one of horror.\n\n\"No....\"\n\nThe water burned, not with heat but chill. I fought against the bonds, but it was as through I were chained with steel links. I felt the sensation of water through my hair, and a stream moved down my face. It circled my mouth and nostrils. I took a hurried breath, and it struck, flowing into me.\n\nI bucked as I started drowning. The water somehow went colder, and I felt my mind being shoved from my body. A horrible laugh echoed, and I heard the things from the well's voice as my thoughts faded.\n\n\"Free.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: On Monday you embezzled $50,000 and keyed your neighbor's car. On Tuesday your daughter's cancer is cured. A note on your windsheild says, \"Two wrongs DO make a right.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Meredith looked down at the note on the windshieid of her old Honda, the block red letters already beginning to bleed from the light Floridian rainfall they'd received earlier that day. The paper, a sandy-looking parchment that might be used for stationery, had some heft to it. The letters themselves, a strange, other-worldly calligraphy in dark red, tilted sharply left in a way that seemed unnatural to Meredith.\n\nAnd then there was the message itself: \"Two wrongs DO make a right,\" it read. Could this be possible? Meredith had never been religious, but no God she had ever heard of would operate by this strange logic. Even so, the events of the morning suggested otherwise. The careful embezzling—what Meredith referred to as the \"just reappropriation of company funds\"—the keying of her neighbor's car (\"payment for services rendered\"), these acts had been answered with a sudden phone call about her daughter's miraculous recovery. Surely these were the acts of some higher power.\n\nBut there was only one way to know for sure.\n\nMeredith wandered for a few blocks until she reached the shiniest and newest car she could find. Why not hurt someone who can afford to take a hit? Rapidly shifting her eyes left and then right, she pulled a pocket knife from her purse and kneeled down to pop two of the cars tires with a meaningful push to each. Her heart was racing now with the fear and pleasure that she always felt when doing something questionable (what she called “being alive”).\n\nShe waited. Nothing happened.\n\nSurely, each tire constituted an individual wrong, she thought. Or maybe not. Or maybe some jerk just wrote a weird note and put it on her car. The world had done crueler things. Meredith shrugged off her disappointment and nerves and pocketed the knife. The world hadn’t changed. It was just as random and senseless as she’d always assumed.\n\nAs she turned to leave, she was met with a startled, leathery face and narrowly missed being hit by an electric scooter. The woman behind the wheel gasped. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she yelped. “This thing has a mind of its own!” As always, Meredith’s temper spoke before she could. “WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING, ASSHOLE!” she sneered in involuntary rage.\n\nThe woman paled and locked her jaw into a worried grimace, maneuvering the scooter away from Meredith as quickly as the device would allow. Meredith glared at her as she rolled away. Eventually, however, something broke her gaze.\n\nIn the woman’s wake, a pristine white envelope had appeared in the crack in the sidewalk. It stood upright as if by magic, and further inspection revealed only two new details: First, that the envelopes only marking was the old-fashioned wax seal—a red pentagram that held it closed—and second, that it contained 20 crisp $100 bills.\n\nMeredith smiled and gingerly peeled the red seal from the envelope, toying with the wax in her fingers, which seemed to emanate a strange heat. Higher power or none, things were looking up for Meredith Berg." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: The weird kid at school pulls a Narnia. Opening their locker and stepping though. You secretly followed behind them. When lunch was over, they left. Locking their locker with you still inside." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The school day started like any other. Home room, social studies, math and finally lunch for a good break before the slog of afternoon classes started. After barely making it through math I was glad to be standing in the lunch line waiting to be served whatever the health board deemed adequate enough to appease the parents. I took my normal seat at the third table from the door so I wouldn’t be bothered and took a few bites of the mushy peas before grabbing my math book out to hopelessly stare at the pages in utter confusion.\n\nThe sharp snap of a plastic tray hitting the table a few seats away broke me out of my haze of numbers and not understanding. Staring out of the corner of my eye, still trying to wrap my head around these numbers, I saw the new kid had sat fairly close and was just staring at his food. This obviously intrigued me more than anything in this stupid math book so I payed a little more attention and realized he wasn’t just staring at his food, he was making a soft hum as he did so. I flipped a page instinctively to make it look like I was still intently not understanding things but the faint noise brought him out of his trance and he just stared at me. Not knowing what to do, I shut my book, quickly packed my bag, grabbed the tray and tried to calmly walk away. I don’t know why but that short glance made me very uncomfortable. I threw out the rest of my mushy peas, stacked the tray and headed out into the hallway.\n\nI have to admit I wasn’t too upset about not getting to finish my peas but I was still hungry as I stared into my locker dreading to grab out the books I’d need for the remaining classes of the day. I had about 10 more minutes of sulking while I slowly unpacked my morning books and replaced them with the afternoon books. Finishing zipping up my bag and slinging it over my shoulder I saw the new kid a couple of lockers down staring at me again. Before I could do or say anything he just walked into his locker. I unfortunately had to go that way to get to class.\n\nAs I waited what felt like forever I had to make a decision. Stand here like a fool or go to class so I wouldn’t be late. I started to flow into the crowd heading the direction I needed to go, past his locker, and started to get an eerie feeling as I got closer and closer. As I was passing the locker I took a quick glance and stopped dead in my tracks, causing a few disgruntled mumbles amongst the crowd. I stepped out of the stream of students and stared into a giant white abyss. I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed this brilliant white light that shouldn’t be where it is. No one seemed to notice.\n\nTime stopped. Nothing seemed to be moving around me. I finally realized I was in the white abyss. Something, or someone, had pulled me in. I felt like air. I felt like a feather. I felt like nothing.\n\nI awoke on a paved pathway with the new kid standing over me.\n\n“You shouldn’t be here” he whispered\n\n“Wh..Where am I?” I slowly mumbled\n\nI heard a shrill shriek in the distance as the new kid stepped back into the hallway through his locker and slammed it shut. I heard the faint spin of the combination lock as the shrieking got closer." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You are an ancient fae being, and as such you know a great many things. What you don't know however is how a mortal couple knows your true name, or why they proclaimed you the 'Fairy Godmother' of their infant child, but you are now contractually obligated to godmother the FUCK out of this kid." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I am the claw that hides in shadows. The teeth that gleam red in moonlight. I am the soft steps that fall between heartbeats, and the whisper of mist wherein all things of the light blink out. I am the king of all that paw and bat, the hunter of the beast that climbs the world tree. I am the shadow of my Queen, the stuff of legends whispered by your kind since you were foolish enough to speak in dark places.\n\nI am Cait Sith.\n\nBut to Thomas Margrave the III, I am Kitty.\n\nI did not seek to be bound to my fate. For you see, it was but a coincidence. The Margraves, for whom I owe so much, had settled into the quiet companionship that happens as a couple loses their sanity from a wailing beast. I can say few things positive about my mewling charge, but I will say that his bellowing cries would shake the walls of my Queen's icy halls with a fury unseen since the War of Summer and Winter.\n\nThe master of the house, tired and having just received a surgery on a bad fang, was asked by the mistress who would take the child, if ever something were to happen to them? He tried to say the name of his dearest friend.\n\nBut, alas, he was speaking under a branch of mistletoe, during your time of tidings. And so, numb of novocaine, Kate Smith became Cait Sith. And, chuckling, his mistress asked the question again. And then again.\n\nAnd so we are here.\n\nMy charge was an ugly thing when first we met. Dull of ear and wide of nose, toothless and pink. He had yet learned not to soil himself, and believed my ear to be a most pleasing toy to pull or suckle on. Indignity!\n\nBut to my kind an oath is a promise, and so I did remain.\n\nAs the whelp learned to toddle I marched before him, clearing any debris or humped rug from his path. I did it to protect him, and in doing so my charge became big and strong.\n\nWhen he was but four, and the monster from beneath his bed did taunt? It was I that skinned and slew the beast, in that order. I laid it out in front of the master's doorway as is the wont of my mortal kin. The pelt was mistaken for a woobie, and I preened with pride as I saw my youngling strut around the house with my trophy.\n\nWhen he went into the woods at dark at six, it was I who took down the foul creature who lay in wait. I picked my teeth with its bones as my child sat in his tent, a flashlight in hand, and read stories of my kind that I had left him for his yuletide present.\n\nAs he neared manhood, and a cruel teacher did strike him? I gave that man back thrice and thrice in kind. Someday they will find him, or not. I dare wonder where I left all of the pieces.\n\nBut now, my little one is off to the place you call university. Your world is hazardous, and though he begged your mortal legates to allow me their requirements to house me were too grim. I may love the child, but I will not be cut and rendered eunuch for any save if my Queen demands it.\n\nHe becomes an adult today. I will fade away soon, to learn of the myriad ways my Queen's lands have changed since err I set paw within her cold dark claims. Your world of iron and fire and dry, hard kibble has starved me of a life I once lived, but I would not trade it for the world.\n\nAnd so I sit, stretched upon his knees, and wonder if maybe my boy will remember my name when his child's time comes." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: You're the prosecutor in the case of Earth v. God. When faced with all of the charges levied by humanity, he uncovers a bulletproof alibi." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Michael Bloomfeld had known it wouldn't be an easy case when he had taken it. Merely the amount of media coverage had convinced him to do it. His firm had been flat lining the last year and without a high profile case, there was no way to up the firms profile.\n\nIt had been a stressful couple of months consisting of weekly meetings with the opposing lawyers and endless phone calls with his client and his associates to develop a strategy that would be able to counter several charges of genocide, murder, attempted murder, torture and inciting of hatred based on gender, religious affiliation and sexuality.\n\nWhen Michael stepped into the court room on that fateful Wednesday, he was fairly certain that despite the overwhelming evidence, they had a real shot. The truth was that he didn't need to convince the jury that God was actually innocent. All he needed was to raise enough doubts to make the opposing side seek a settlement. God had agreed to withdraw from most of his responsibilities if the charges were dropped and Michael's job was to make sure that they were.\n\nHe wore a plain grey three piece suit and a dark tie. He had no documents with him. There was nothing to discuss on his part. He had considered contesting the truthfulness of the bible, but the problem with that was that it would call into question authority of his client if he did and that would only hurt God in the long run, so Michael had decided to go down another route.\n\nThe court room was stacked with people. A lot of religious people, including the pope himself sat in the back. They were quiet. The Vatican had not made a statement on the charges levied against their deity, but pope Francis had called Michael three weeks earlier and they had talked about the thing for almost five hours. The pope had been hesitant to act as a witness in this case and he had been relieved to hear that Michael did not require him to do so. The same was true for Jesus who sat in the first row next to his mother. Both seemed troubled and tired and Michael supposed that they had not gotten any more sleep than he himself had.\n\nThe trial began with a fiery opening statement by Anthony Barzagli, the main prosecutor. He was an incredibly suave man with an instantly likable face and had Michael not familiarized himself with all the arguments of the opposing side beforehand, the statement surely would have convinced him that God deserved nothing less than five hundred life sentences.\n\nMichael only barely payed any attention, though. When Barzagli talked about Noah's Ark, he stopped listening all together and phased out a little.\n\nWhen Barzagli had finished, the room was deafeningly quiet. Then, judge Judy Meyers looked at Michael. \"And now to the defendants opening statement.\"\n\nMichael got up and threw a glance at his client. God was thinner than he had been at their first meeting and he was visibly shaken by the charges Barzagli had levied against him and by having all his missteps read aloud like that. Michael gave him a reassuring nod and then went up to the jury. On a table to the right, there was a bible. It had gone unused in this case. They had sworn on the constitution, because all parties had quietly agreed that it would be senseless to swear on the book whose main contributor was up on trial.\n\nNow, however, Michael picked up the book and shuffled through the pages. He showed it to the members of the jury and then said: \"I will not contest the things that you just heard, ladies and gentlemen. I will not deny that these abhorrent things happened and not that my client was the leading figure in all of them. I cannot deny them, in fact. They are as true as all of our presences here in this court.\" He made a short dramatic pause, in which he glanced at Barzagli who seemed incredibly tense. He had clenched his fist and apparently could not wait to hear his opponent's next words.\n\n\"I will however\" Michael continued, \"Contest one thing. As you surely have noticed, at no point during his opening statement has Mr. Barzagli ever raised the question: Did my client have a choice?\" He looked around, singling out each individual member of the jury. \"I think that we can all agree that in order for something to be considered a 'crime' the perpetrator needs to have chose to commit it, no? After all, if there was no choice on the accused's part to NOT do something, how can we punish him for doing it? And so it is, that I would like you to consider my client's omniscience. My client knows about every event that ever happened, happens right now and, and this is the important part, will ever happen in the future. Let me make this clear: He does not know possible outcomes, but rather knows with absolute certainty that something will happen in a certain way. For this to be possible, there can be no freedom of choice. If there was, it would be impossible to predict the actions of any agent with absolute accuracy. And since my client is omniscient, that is 'all-knowing', he also knows everything that he himself will ever do. Therefore, my client is not and was never, a free agent. Therefore all the things he his accused of doing, lay outside of his control. He was predetermined to do them and never had the choice to do otherwise. This, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I would like you to keep in mind from now on. How can there be a crime, when the alleged criminal did not have the option to not commit it?\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: \" Perhaps they have a chance after all\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "You've been watching those kids for years, and really, they've been through a lot.\n\nYou saw her parents bring her home from the hospital, almost 18 years ago now. You saw her take her first steps in the yard across from your house, watched her fall over two seconds later, clapping and giggling in delight.\n\nYou saw her mother dressed in black, mourning her husband with her two-year-old in her arms.\n\nHe moved to the house next door when she was seven. He was eight, one grade above her at school but new to the school, new to the neighbourhood, new to the state. She saw him looking nervous at the bus stop and took him under her tiny wing, and you've rarely seen them separate since.\n\nWhen she was nine, she broke her leg jumping off the swings in his yard. You were about to call 911, when you saw he had already run inside to get a phone, telling the operator what had happened as calmly as he could. She was on crutches for weeks afterwards, and he was never far from her side, helping her with stairs and carrying her books and letting her lean on him when she was tired.\n\nThey had their first real fight when he was thirteen, and took a girl from his grade to the movies. His mom had to drive him to pick her up, and he had to be home by eight, but he was excited. It was his first date.\n\nHe was excited, and wanted to share it with his best friend. You saw him tell her, on the pavement between their two houses, and saw her face fall, saw her recoil, saw her run off to her yard. Later, you were tending to your roses when you heard her tell her mom she didn't know why she reacted like that, why her first reaction was to run away in anger. Her mom didn't reply, but you could picture the smile on her face. Let the girl figure it out on her own time.\n\nThe relationship didn't last very long, and neither did the fight. Less than a week later, they were inseparable again.\n\nWhen he was sixteen, the boy got sick. Leukaemia. The first night after she found out, you saw her sobbing in her yard, pleading out loud to a god she didn't believe in to please, just let him live.\n\nThe next morning, she was at your door with a pan of brownies and the story, asking for whatever contributions you could give towards his medical bills in exchange for the brownies. You gave her money then, and she still doesn't know that later that day you made an anonymous donation towards his care. You were rooting for him, for both of them.\n\nWeek by week, you could see the treatment starting to work, and eventually, he was all but back to his old self. His parents, however, were all but falling apart, relationship worn away by the stress of his disease. His father moved out the week before he turned seventeen.\n\nHis senior year came around, and you could see college applications taking a toll on him. He had less time for everything else, which included his best friend. You started seeing her walking around with a different guy, sometimes, and every now and then you saw him kissing her goodnight. She never looked as excited to see him as she did when her best friend occasionally surfaced from his pile of applications.\n\nAfter the application deadline passed, you didn't really see much of the new guy.\n\nWatching him leave for college was hard, even for you. You didn't know where he was going, but judging by the amount of things packed into his parents' car, it was far enough that he wouldn't be coming back every weekend. She kept a smile on her face when he was leaving, waved goodbye and shouted \"good luck!\", but as soon as the car rounded the corner she wrapped her arms around herself, shoulders falling like she was deflating, looking sadder than you've ever seen her.\n\nNow it's Christmas, the first time he's been home since he left. The moment he'd carried his bags inside, he was knocking on her door, before realising she was still at school. Now he's sitting on the steps, waiting for her.\n\nShe comes home half an hour after her gets there. You're sitting on your porch, enjoying the light snowfall, and the hot chocolate you're nursing almost startles out of your hand at the scream she lets out.\n\nShe runs the last few feet, jumping into his lap. You can't hear what's being said from across the street, but perhaps it's better that way; they deserve some privacy.\n\nShe buries her face in the crook of his neck. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, and you smile. Perhaps they have a chance after all." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Every demand that you make happens, no matter what. During an argument you told your best friend to stay out of your life, and after that you never heard, saw, or even hear anyone talk about them ever again." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Who?” Her soft words echoed through my skull.\n\n“Jared,” I said again, stunned.\n\n“Jared who, though, dear” she repeated.\n\n“Your son, Jared, have you heard from him?” I insisted.\n\n“I don’t have a son though,” she replied, giving me a suspicious eye.\n\n“Look, Mrs. Silver, I’m not crazy!” Panic was setting in and I was starting to wonder if I actually was crazy. “You know who I am, right?”\n\n“Of course! You’re Tommy, I’ve known you since you were in third grade!“ she said warmly.\n\n“But I am not your neighbour,” I began trying to create a trail of breadcrumbs.\n\n“No, you aren’t,” she started to become suspicious again.\n\n“Then how do you know me?” I asked aggressively, growing tired of this game.\n\n“I don’t know, I just do. I used to bring you milk and cookies after school.” her voice had a hint of concern. She began to rub the back of her neck anxiously, as if she was trying to recover something at the back of her mind.\n\n“But why would I? If I didn’t live nearby, if you didn’t have a son, why would I come over to a random woman’s house?!” My frustration began bursting through.\n\nMrs. Silver burst out crying, cupping her hands to her face. Her hands had gotten so old and frail, I realized.\n\n“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed, I felt like it had to repair whatever I had done.\n\nShe sat down on an old rickety wooden chair and leaned on the table, wiping tears from her eyes.\n\n“I can feel it,” she began to explain, “I can feel it missing.” Her voice was trembling, “what’s wrong with me? How can I not know I have a son? I can feel it, these memories of him, but they are just shadows, you know. There is a person there with you, eating cookies, trying to sneak an extra one. But it is just a shadow, not a person. This was always my biggest fear, forgetting. My mother, she kept forgetting too…”\n\nTears streamed down my face as another wave of regret washed over me. Ever since I spoke those words two days ago, it’s been like I am floating in the ocean, trying to survive these waves of guilt, grief and regret. No where to swim to, no where to escape as they take me under again.\n\nI pulled up a chair next to her and put my hand around her shoulder.\n\n“I’ll find him, don’t you worry Mrs. Silver,” I tried to comfort her.\n\n“Who, dear?” She inquired, oblivious to our conversation only minutes before.\n\n“Jared…” I began then I trailed off, not wanting to explain it to her again.\n\n“Okay, dear, I am just going to make some tea, you can tell me about it.” She stood up and toddled off towards the counter and began to fill a kettle with water.\n\n“Your son…” I breathed, barely audibly.\n\nI saw a pain in her eyes. “Excuse me a moment,” she left, the room, rubbing the back of her neck. I heard some crying and sniffling. This was a pain through my whole chest, dealing with the consequences of such a stupid act.\n\nShe came back and poured two cups of tea, the soft and mellow citrus of the Earl Grey held in the air.\n\n“Can I ask you a favour?” She requested, softly, shyly, “can you just wait with me a bit, until I fall asleep?”\n\nWe sat in silence, as we drank our tea. She grew drowsy and slowly fell asleep, resting on the table. I put a blanket over her shoulders.\n\n“Don’t leave her alone like this, Jared, you have to be with her,” I muttered desperately, but nothing happened.\n\n“I should go,” I thought, “I’ve caused this woman enough pain.” As I walked to the back door. The one with the bent screen and the rusty hinge, I saw it in the bathroom, a mess of medicine bottles in the sink.\n\nI spun around and ran to the small, fragile woman and tried to shake her softly.\n\n“Mrs. Silver?” I whispered. I shook her a little harder, “Mrs. Silver?” I said, trying to rouse her.\n\nIn horror, I stepped back. Another consequence to my stupid mistake." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: The two Male Lead’s we’re fighting over the Female Lead, with no concern for their actions. First they would grab her and carry her away randomly to avoid the other. Next, they dumped the FL into the pond while arguing over who would join her for the boat ride. The FL just HATES both of them!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lady Gwendlyn Barrington had finally found some peace and quiet at the far side of the lake. She was sitting under the shade of an ancient oak, near but not at the water's edge. Was it too much to ask for one afternoon's respite from the contrived activities of this tedious house party? She particularly did not want those two insufferable cousins to find her.\n\nLord Richard Pomfrey (Old Pompous she called him) with the overbearing character had an extra long aristocratic nose that he took great delight in looking down at everyone. Unmitigated jackass was the general consensus. Looking to get married and fill his nursery was the rumour. She had no intention of fulfilling that role, and she'd told him so on numerous occasions.\n\nViscount Gerald Wakefield ( The Weakling she'd named him) had sweaty palms and a nonexistent chin. No really, she had challenged many to speak in defense of his chin but none had. Gerry, as he insisted she call him, erroneously believed that because they were neighbours and had been school room chums it gave him special claim over her. She snorted in derision at this fantasy.\n\nGwen took herself in hand. She'd made a special effort to be alone this afternoon expressly to rid herself of these two. She settled down to read her book and escape into its dark pages. Shortly thereafter she fell asleep.\n\nThe sun had moved to the southeast, and fell upon her face awakening Gwen. She roused herself and started to smooth out her skirts when she heard an unwelcome voice.\n\n“Halloo, I say Lady Gwendlyn. There you are. I've been searching the longest time for you. It's most unfitting for a lady to hide herself away on such a glorious afternoon. I insist you allow me to row you back to the other side.”\n\nGwen groaned. Old Pompous had found her and was giving orders on how she spent the rest of her afternoon.\n\n“I say cousin, not so fast with the commands. It would be most unseemly for Gwenny to ride in a boat with you unescorted. Do you see her maid here to chaperon? It would be far better if I escort her back to the house. We've had an understanding since childhood, so it would be most proper for us to be alone together.”\n\nThe Weakling emerged from the overgrown trail Gwen had used to get to this side of the lake, just as Old Pompous beached his skiff. A ferocious argument broke out between the cousins over who had a priority claim on Lady Barrington's affections and would have the honour of escorting her back to the house.\n\nGwen gathered her book and parasol with the intention of striding off on her own. At that moment Wakefield grabbed her left hand to stop her. Pomfrey reacted violently to his cousin's presumption of priority and grabbed Gwen's other hand. He gave a forceful tug just as she'd shook loose of The Weakling's greasy palm.\n\nAnd so Lady Gwendlyn Barrington sailed off high in the air and landed with an undignified splash into the cold water of the lake. She noted with increasing anger that the cousins did not give a backward glance to her but kept berating each other over which of them had secured her affections.\n\nEnraged, Gwen gathered herself and marched from the lake towards Old Pompous, swinging her parasol and screaming like a banshee. He was so startled that she managed to break his nose and give him raccoon eyes before he had time to register what was happening.\n\nGwen then turned brandishing her weapon and stalked towards The Weakling. He backed away from her, going deeper and deeper into the lake until he lost his footing and was barely keeping his head above the surface. He pleaded for mercy and promised to henceforth leave her alone.\n\nWith that, Gwen gathered up her dignity and headed for the trail. That was ver unladylike she chided herself, but it was so fucking satisfying." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Long ago, a second large meteorite hit earth and killed off the human race. You are part of the alien race that discovered the dead planet thousands of years later. You are an anthropology professor, delving into this subject with your students." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Professor Kathmonomonn of the Utai Space Academy's Anthropology department, wheeled his way into his classroom and was dismayed after a quick look at his wrist chronometer revealed that he was running late. His species had long ago discovered how to upload their brainwaves into computer mainframes that could be fit into robotic bodies - thereby preserving their lifespans - and yet, with all the wonders of modern technology that having your brain hooked up to a computer allowed, Kathmonomonn still found himself late almost every single day.\n\n\"Settle down, settle down...\" the professor's amplified, simulated voice resounded throughout the room. The room was quiet but Kathmonomonn remembered what it had been like when he had gone to university - the students were no doubt electronically sending each other amusing messages or holograms instead of paying attention. He always found it difficult to restore order once he had arrived tardy.\n\n\"Now, where did we leave off last class?\" the professor asked his class absentmindedly as he started setting up the holoprojector.\n\n\"You were telling us about the old and new gods of humanity.\" Treekabildrop, his star pupil, helpfully stated. Kathmonomonn nodded appreciatively towards her and turned on the projector.\n\n\"Right - of course! You all remember the old gods from last class, correct? Zeus, Buddha, Yahweh, and the like. For the most part, these old gods were stern warrior types and the natives of Earth believed that every misfortune that befell them were direct results of the gods' every whim. And of course, these gods all had their share of heroes that did great deeds and defended their pantheon such as Hercules and Jesus.\"\n\n\"Now, it's a matter of debate as to when humanity made the switch from worshiping different gods depending on what part of the world you lived in to every inhabitant worshiping the same god. As we all know, Earth doesn't exactly lend itself to archaeological digs so we don't know for certain what name this new, monotheistic god took but, from the few artifacts we have managed to uncover, experts believe that it was called Teevee.\" Kathmonomonn lectured and was grateful to see that many of his students were finally starting to pay attention.\n\n\"Worshipers of Teevee would enact shrines to him in their home that took the form of plain rectangles, which also served as status symbols. The more shrines you had in your house indicated your place in the social hierarchy off Earth. Instead of bowing downand fearing this new deity, as the humans did with the old gods, followers of Teevee were more fond of singing praises of all the joy that he brought his followers. Now Teevee had its own share of mythical heroes that are much easier to track down the names of...\" Kathmonomonn droned on until he noticed that one of his students had sent him an electronic query.\n\n\"Yes?\" he asked, looking over at the student in question.\"\n\n\"Will we need to know all of these New Age heroes for the exam?\" the student asked.\n\n\"Oh no! There are far too many of those to list. Just the main ones will suffice for the test. There was Kim Kardashian - the famed demigoddess whose beauty and exploits were legendary across the land, the Four Turtle Spirits - who were constantly in a state of combat against the dark god known as Shredder, and lastly there was Sterling Archer, a roguish sort of hero known for his guile that emphasized New Age humans' values such as a ruthlessness and guile.\" Kathmonomonn told the student. He was about to continue with the lecture until the holoprojector sputtered loudly and then shut off. Cursing, he told the class to take a ten minute break while he tried to get this antiquated piece of junk working again.\n\nHe missed the good old days of two dimensional holographic presentations. They would never break down on you. But nothing but the best and most realistic three dimensional graphics would suffice for these young kids anymore. He sighed and got to work on the projector." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: There you are, standing in the hospital parking lot while your wife delivers your best friend’s baby." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Yellow flowers. Maybe a bridge back, he wondered, to the wife who had grown distant. Roses, in particular. Her favorite, she told John and John told Tom. Now Tom stood on the crosswalk to the maternity ward to help her push, to finish the job John should be doing for his son. But John was dead.\n\nTom counted the flowers. Twelve of them. He'd become paranoid about being ripped off after John confessed the cheating just a month ago. If he couldn't trust his own brother, who could he trust? Certainly not the florist at the big warehouse where he bought a huge box of infant diapers just that morning. The minimum-wage untrained flower person who really didn't even deserve the title florist. How could he trust some shmuck like that when his own brother knocked up his wife?\n\nJohn told him over too many beers at the end of poker night. A hot Friday in the garage where the neighbors fought a couple of times over stupidity and John got ripped to the point that everyone was ragging on him so he defended himself by talking about his virility. His manhood. His strength. Yeah, one of the neighbors said, is that what you're doing at Tom's house when he's at work? Then the guys realized it was serious as John shut up and Tom threw up. The guys brawled in the yard. Tom split John's nose and lip. John hardly fought back. He had it coming. He knew it.\n\nAt the hospital, John paused before the elevator. The bathroom called. He spent extra time on his hands and checked his shirt and pants.\n\nJohn and Tom talked late into the night. It was her idea, John swore. Elizabeth was lonely when Tom was travelling for the long jobs on the line. The hurricane jobs that took him out of state. First he came over to keep an eye on the house then he kept and eye on her then her eyes fell on him and that was that. So he said.\n\nShe had been distant, Tom know, but he thought it was his fault for travelling, for being gruff on the phone. For the guilt he bore for sleeping with strange women on those lonely nights on the road. The women he saw to cover his anger for not getting Elizabeth pregnant. It had been two years. He was a failure, he figured. Not even a man. He thought she knew about him cheating. But she didn't, John said. And Tom wouldn't say a word. John wouldn't either. Tom would get his marriage right and John would tell her it was over.\n\nTom checked his teeth to make sure they were all there and clean. He checked his hands and washed them again before hitting the elevator.\n\nThen Tom did the math three weeks ago. He was gone to Florida after a Cat 4. Gone for a month. Big jobs. Half the state blacked out. And the baby was full-term. Healthy. Strong. The date was a surprise to Tom when the doctors first asked but he had been with her just the night before he left. It was just close enough. So maybe, the doctor said. But something felt off. Then it clicked.\n\nHe was going to raise John's baby.\n\nHe didn't just do the math. He got tested. His swimmers were dead as a doornail, all of them. Infertile. No chance.\n\n\"She's due tomorrow,\" Tom had said last night. John nodded. The pair were together for one last binge before Tom became a dad and life changed for good. John was ripped. Tom had been pretending and sticking to the light beers. He had a level head. Clear eyes, can't miss, he thought as he put the gun to his brother's head.\n\nHe had written the suicide note a while back. He wrote just like his brother and lifted a signature from an old check. The gun was John's. Tom had walked. He'd been moody anyway, to the point that colleagues of John's had called Tom to check in. Was it a long shot to think the man would take his life?\n\nTom exited the elevator on the birthing floor. He was here to welcome his son. His brother's son. But his son." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You are a skilled hitman, known as one of the greatest. Nobody in the criminal underworld even knows your real name. A client has given you a very peculiar target - yourself." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was a bizarre feeling. I was looking through the telescope of my rifle, perched on top of a apartment building roof. Prime view of the main town square. My cross hairs fixed on this... person, as he went about queuing for a coffee at the stand.\n\nIt's very strange to see yourself at a distance. There are many things I could have been thinking about. Strange emotions that could surface on this particular job. But all I could think was... that jacket actually looks really shit on me.\n\nI confess I hesitated for a moment. Something I've never done before when I have a clear shot. But then I drew another breath and pulled the trigger....\n\nOne week earlier, this felt like the start of any normal job. It was a repeat customer. She used my service regularly. I never asked questions, it was part of the deal. But from what I had seen, it was mainly just business people, usually in their 30s and 40s. I hadn't thought much of it. Fortunately for my line of work, I don't have the emotional response people call 'empathy'. I understand it's when you try and imagine what it's like to experience something from another person's point of view... but it's a very foreign concept to me.\n\nAs usual, we met in a dingy bar, at 3am. She was sat in the corner in jeans and a blouse. She could have been any other punter I thought as she nursed her beer. I sat down and said hello.\n\nIt's not like the movies where it's all hushed voices and stern looks. That's far to conspicuous. We greeted eachother as friends and hugged. Of course neither of us knew each others real names, but I called her Sarah.\n\nAfter a bit of small talk about the weather and some (presumably made up) anecdote about her work at the construction site, she said she had some work for me.\n\n\"I have someone else who needs a 'lift to the airport'\" Sarah said. This was the pseudo code we used, just in case there were any bugs or prying ears. \"Since you did such a good job last time.\"\n\nI smiled smugly, glad she appreciated my work. \"Pray do tell.\" I said.\n\n\"The details are on this USB stick,\" she said, sliding it across the table. Naturally we didn't send eachother anything via the internet. Everything was offline, so it could be destroyed afterwards.\n\n\"There's something you should know though\" she said, dropping the 'friend' act for a moment. \"About who these people are that you help... deliver to the airport\".\n\n\"I don't ask any questions,\" I snapped back \"and I don't want to know.\"\n\n\"For this job you need to know\" she stirred as she spoke. Thinking about how to proceed. \"Firstly, I want to make clear that the job itself is operationally the same as any other you've done for me. No harder or riskier. But... none the less. Your fee...\"\n\nI raised my eyebrough. Really? Of all the customers, she was going to try and pull this.\n\n\"...Will be more 10 times the usual rate. This is enough to retire on.. we're talking 7 figures\".\n\nI stared blankly. I thought she was joking. But she never joked when it came to work.\n\n\"You don't need to know all the details. But the people you have been ahem... giving a lift to\" she said. \"They're not from here. Not from this town, or this state, or this country\" she paused \"not even from this world\".\n\nShe waited for my reaction. I gave none.\n\n\"You probably don't believe me, and that's fine. But you will when you see the target.\" She said. \"All you need to know is that they are not supposed to be here. In fact it's very dangerous that they're here. And they must be stopped. No matter who they are...\" she really emphasised the last point.\n\nI stood up to leave, leaning in to give her a 'fake' hug goodbye. I didn't care what the story was. Or what bullshit she was spinning. I had the job, I had the USB. And she knew what would happen if she didn't pay the agreed amount. So I was sure she wouldn't dare pay less than the 7 figures promised. I also knew, that whoever's was on that USB, wherever they were from I wouldn't care.\n\nAnd that leads me right back here to this roof... and I have to say. I was right. No matter who was on the USB, or what their story was. I didn't care. My job was now complete. And I was now a very rich man." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: There is a red button in the Oval Office know one but the president knows about. It's not the bomb. It's not an alarm. One day, a curious intern spots it and decides to press it..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I’d finally got it! An internship at the greatest office in the country, for the most powerful man in the world! I’d worked so hard for this position, destroyed my social life while I was studying, and all the hard work had finally paid off. Sure, it was menial tasks to start with, but just being surrounded by the top minds of this lifetime was an experience in itself.\n\nUnderstandably, they had very strict procedures. No firearms inside the White house, phones turned off (or at least on vibrate) at all times, and no entering an empty office that isn't yours without express permission. This last rule was very strictly enforced for the oval office, for reasons that I'm sure don’t need explaining. It looked exactly like it does in House of Cards, right down to the colour of the curtains. To be honest, there wasn't any of the cool stuff I was really hoping for. No secret bookcase that lead to a UFO holding room, no secret X-Men project going on deep underground, and no big green screens with holographic maps and lots of numbers flying across the screen. The only thing that looked remotely interesting was a big red button, locked underneath a perspex case. The padlock was huge, and needed both a combination and a key to unlock. Only the big man himself knew what it did, and the rare few times I spoke to him he would quickly change the subject.\n\nSo as I was taking notes on a meeting between him and a very ominous looking fellow with blacked-out glasses and a wire stretching from his ear to the back of his collar, and the button was unlocked, it took all of my willpower to resist pressing it as the two of them walked out. What if it was nukes? Nah, it wouldn't be unlocked if it was nukes. But why did no one know what it did? It must be something huge. Maybe it was a distress signal for the whole of the D.C. area. What if it unleashed zombies? No, that’s ridiculous. As much as I would love to be the Rick Grimes of the real world, a zombie apocalypse would be a bit of a pain. But the button is unlocked, and it’s within an arms reach of me. One simple press could potentially change the course of history, for better or worse. Even if I did get arrested and placed inside Guantanamo for the rest of my days, I’d go down in history. Me, a simple intern, immortalised in the history books forever.\n\nThe president was gone. The man he was speaking to was gone. All rational thought was gone. The button was not. With another glance through the doorway, I quickly pushed my palm down on its peak. It sunk into its plastic casing, and slowly raised back up again. For the first few moments, I thought nothing had happened. As I reached for the button again, the intercom in the top of the room kicked into life. I walked over to the window that filled almost the entire back wall, just in time to see all the tourists stop and look towards the street speakers that had risen out of the grass.\n\nI covered my ears and fell to my knees. I’d heard this sound before. It filled the oval office, the hallways of the White house, and the streets of Washington. I’d made a terrible mistake. My damned curiosity had gotten the best of me again, and I was about to pay the price. I was wrong. It was not worth it. Nothing would have ever been worth it. I rose to my knees and took my palms away from ears. I had no other choice but to face my despair. I looked up at the speaker in the corner of the room, and prepared myself for what I knew was coming.\n\n“We’re no strangers to loooove. You know the rules, and SO do I (do I do I)”\n\nRick Astley. I’d been Rick Rolled. By the President. The President. I picked up my notepad and hurried out of the door, only to be faced with his shit-eating grin.\n\n“You found the button, then? You lasted longer than the other interns.”\n\n“Fuck you, Barack. Fuck you.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 900-1000 words. Prompt: We need you to solve the crime, Detective. What we know about the case is this. One: the murder weapon was a spoon. Two: the victim died of asphyxiation. Three: the cat is missing. Four: the victim's last words were \"Seven is a crowd.\" Five: the train was early. Six: one of these may be a lie." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I looked around the room, intrigued. It was a pretty standard dining room. It held an antique dining room set with a cherry finish consisting of eight chairs, a hutch, a cheerio cabinet and a table. Several pictures hung on the walls, and a chandelier hung over the table. One doorway led to the kitchen, the other to the living room where the witness/suspects were assembled. On either side of the doorway to the living room were a six-foot-tall set of dinner-ware arranged from the door to the wall in the order of “Knife, butterknife, table spoon, soup spoon, desert fork, dinner fork, salad fork. Well except for the fact one of the table spoons was currently not secured to the wall but laying across the deceased. I made a mental note to look up this apartment complex later, because the apartment complex I had sure as hell didn’t have space for dining room, let alone a separate kitchen.\n\n“Give me the rundown again of why I’m here, sergeant,” I barked while looking at a gouge in the floor just a few inches in front of where the missing spoon should have been hanging.\n\n“We need you to solve the crime, Detective,” the sergeant had a knack for stating the obvious. Part of why they called me in no doubt. “What we know about the case is this. One: the murder weapon was a spoon. Two: the victim died of asphyxiation. Three: the cat is missing. Four: the victim's last words were \"Seven is a crowd.\" Five: the train was early. Six: one of these may be a lie.”\n\n“Who’s the deceased?” I asked taking a look at some holes in the paster wall. I glanced at the other hanging utensils and saw that they were secured by a single pair of u-shaped iron brackets.\n\n“Amelia Terrace, age 26. One of six girlfriends of Sebastian Ferring. Owner of a small internet startup. Also here are the other five girlfriends; Yolanda Ferris, Erica Smith, Julie Striker, Carrie Mayline, and Patricia Frenzy.”\n\nI sighed as something caught my attention and I looked out the open window to notice a small pickup truck with modified wheels and yellow flashing lights making it’s way down the track.\n\n“You do realize all the ladies’ names you just gave me are fake, don’t you sergeant?” I rolled my eyes. “Double check the identities of all the girls including the victims, but I suspect they will all turn out to be runaways and either slightly underage or rich girls hiding from their families. If any of them are underage and under the age of consent book them all on statutory rape.”\n\nThe sergeant gulped and nodded.\n\n“Where were they all when the death occurred?” I walked over for a more detailed look at the deceased. I lifted up the spoon. Or tried to. It was heavier than it looked. At least three hundred pounds. The best I could do was shift it slightly and get a glimpse of a piece of iron.\n\n“They claim they were all in the bedroom, sir. All of them swear they were in bed together and that Amelia was the only one missing.”\n\nI continued walking around the room until I noticed a piece of very dusty black hiding underneath the cheerio. Going back to the wall I took another good look at the holes in the wall before turning to the Sergeant. “If all the girls’ ages check out in the clear, cut them loose.”\n\n“But sir? What about the murder?” the idiot inquired.\n\n“What murder?” I asked. “I’m no lawyer but I suspect the best you could get is reckless manslaughter, and even then it would be stretching it.”\n\n“I don’t understand sir,” the sergeant stated.\n\n“Of course, you don’t,” I rolled my eyes. “Let me spell it out for you.”\n\nI turned to face him. “You told me six things. Let’s take them in reverse order, shall we. Six: one of these may be a lie. Actually, there’s two, and neither were lies so much as misunderstandings or false assumptions.”\n\nI walked back over to the window. “Five: the train was early. Wrong. The train never came today. There’s something wrong with the tracks. What they heard was the sound of the spoon coming down on poor ‘Amelia’ over here.”\n\nI knelt down near the victim. “Four: the victim's last words were \"Seven is a crowd.” True, but they weren’t referring to the Hellenistic romantic arrangement, but rather to the rather oversized tableware and cutlery displays over there.”\n\nI gestured back to the window. “Three: the cat is missing. Largely irrelevant to the case, but might I point out the open window? Likely at some point the cat jumped out.”\n\n“Two: the victim died of asphyxiation. I will agree with you on that.”\n\nI walked back over to the wall. “One: the murder weapon was a spoon. While I don’t dispute that the cause of death was the ridiculously oversized and equally ridiculously heavy tablespoon, I highly doubt it was murder. These pieces are each held up by only two iron brackets. In order to fit them into such a narrow space, they did not ensure that the brackets were properly installed into the studs or at least adequate wall anchors. As a result, over time the brackets worked loose and fell off. I notice the one under the cheerio is coated with dust and likely has been there for quite some time. I surmise the other worked itself out this morning a little before six and flattened ‘Amelia’ over there on her way to the living room.”\n\nI adjusted my hat and coat. “Next time, sergeant, at least look at the evidence before wasting my time.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Certain lucky individuals are granted superpowers based on their profession. As an accountant you were given the power to be so precise in your calculation that you could find the probability of literally anything, and you find out the is world is going to end in 3 days." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Time left before the 'End of the world': 23 hours\n\nAccuracy: 100%\n\nNo matter how much faith I give to the heroes being anxious about the fate of the world is would be normal if 100% is literally printed in your head. Luckily I don't have to do it alone.\n\nSam cooked me breakfast. I don't know she knows how to cook.\n\nShe doesn't she nearly burned yesterday's leftovers while trying to heat it.\n\nTime left before the 'End of the world': 22 hours\n\nAccuracy: 100%\n\nSam prepared a list of activities to keep us distracted from the prospect of the world might end (I already told her the message last night by the way and also took a leave) when we wake.\n\nIt is mostly play video games, movie marathon, eat food and seeing a shooting star at 9 pm before we sleep\n\nReminds us of college.\n\nTime left before the 'End of the world': 18 hours\n\nAccuracy: 100%\n\n\"Hey lovebirds, planning marriage behind our backs?\" Danny and her fiance entered my apartment while we are in a compromising position due to Sam trying take my controller.\n\nDanny was punished by the combined might of my 'flying controller' and a 'blushing blow' from Samantha. Dude if I am planning to put our friendship to the 'next level' you will be involved in the planning process.\n\nBy the way, you deserve a 'Deadly Blow' because I am 100 percent sure that you skipped work like you skipped classes. You're lucky that Juni is around.\n\nTime left before the 'End of the world': 12 hours\n\nAccuracy: 100%\n\nWe played games, watched movies, devour my delicious food and relieved the time that we are students.\n\nNow that I think about it Sam is always with me since elementary.\n\nTime left before the 'End of the world': 11 hours\n\nAccuracy: 100%\n\nI am the last man standing. Only because I never took an sip of alcohol. They called me 'killjoy' but I am now putting blankets on their backs.\n\nTime left before the 'End of the world': 10 hours\n\nAccuracy: 100%\n\n\"Can't sleep?\" Sam placed her hands on my shoulder as I look at the night sky.\n\nMeanwhile Danny and Juni are sleeping soundly.\n\n\"I replaced alcohol with caffeine, this is the side effect of that change. How about you? There is a 80% chance that we will not see the shooting star.\"\n\n\"I won't let a few cups of alcohol, Dan's arrival or your probability mess with my plan.\"\n\n\"And that is.\"\n\n\"It's a top secret.\"\n\nWhile we are talking a streak of light passed by unnoticed. Sam fell asleep again while I tried to wait for the shooting stay but soon the call of the bed prevailed.\n\nI carried Sam to my bed, she is heavy but her sleeping face is worth it.\n\nPeople might say that I am the mature one compared to tomboyish nature.\n\nBut ever since everyone learned my powers how I looked at me in a different light.\n\nThey asked me for advice, for fortune, for a miracle.\n\nSam never did.\n\n\"Can you please stop using your powers?! You don't really need to help them in the first place.\"\n\n\"But..\"\n\n\"But God gave you your powers for a reason I am definitely sure that it is not to transform you into a glorified simulator.\"\n\nThe 'end of the world' is certain my power is not a liar. Even if the director and his heroes managed to stop the literal end, it can have other meanings.\n\nThis power of mine is both accurate and vague at the same time and it is irritating.\n\nThere is also a chance that it means nothing but can I really believe that?\n\nWhen I looked at the window I saw an airplane slowly drifting away. Maybe that will do.\n\n\"If wish I have more time no. I wish to be with Sam until the 'end of the world'\"\n\nPerhaps, I need to ask Danny for a plan after this.\n\nPlease give criticism." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: The New York sanitation workers have always secretly had the job of ridding the streets of cryptid monsters. Time to take out the trash!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Fuck you, fuckos!”\n\nJessie picked herself up for the second time that night, brushing dust off her knees bare through the tears in her mesh stockings. Drunk again, stumbling home at 5 in the AM, cursing out whoever crossed her zigzagged path down 6th and Broadway. She’d lost her panties somewhere, probably when she’d took a quick squat around the corner, which also explained why her shoes were soaked, but she wasn’t one for introspection when there was someone else to blame for her problems. There was always someone else. Like the trashmen hanging off the end of their truck as it cruised the block on the morning garbage route. Those fuckos smelling up the block and making noise waking people up so goddamn early in the morning, they’re the ones that startled me and made me fall in a puddle of my own piss, how dare they those stinking fuckos...\n\nShe began limping after them, hurling whatever she could get her hands on, including both tacky platforms off her feet and the contents of her handbag, half-eaten roll of Mentos, used up lipstick, greasy napkins, pennies, and then came the tampons. She got in a lucky shot and nailed one of them right in the ear. The truck ground to a halt. Jessie stuck both her middle fingers up in triumph.\n\n“Up yours, ya fuckos!”\n\nThere were two of them, garbed in the forest green of New York’s finest. They strolled up to Jessie until they were towering over her, easily bigger by a couple feet and a hundred pounds apiece. She was way too hammered to notice or care. Big or small, anything that had ears to listen was destined to cop her bullshit that night.\n\n“You stinky trashbags,” she said, “you made me fall over and wreck my new stockings. Whose gonna pay for these?”\n\nThe trashmen shared a glance. One of them pulled out a handkerchief from his back pocket and proffered it to her.\n\n“Lady, you’re covered in piss.”\n\n“No you’re covered in piss! And shit and diapers and crud and assrags-“\n\nShe could’ve gone on for at least five more synonyms but she was cut short. Something had wrapped around her ankles and tugged, her face planting into the pavement at the trashmen’s feet. It startled her so much she lost control, and once again she found herself lying in a puddle of her own piss. Whatever had tripped her began crawling up her legs, covering up and pinning her lower body to the ground. It felt slimy and pulsated. Jessie was reminded of a snail that once crawled across her arm, leaving a trail of sticky ooze.\n\nShe tried crawling with her arms but that didn’t work. Wiggling did nothing. The more she squirmed the tighter the hold about her legs. She turned her head as far as she could to catch a glimpse of whatever it was, and as it entered he peripheral a primal scream began building up in her lungs, her instincts harkening back to a time where the ancestors of man trembled within their primitive stone huts in terror of the antediluvian horrors that stalked the earth, creatures which even now haunted the world of man in secret, concealed in the shadows between shadows and hungering for souls to satiate their unholy lust...\n\nBefore she could let out a peep the spongy mass exploded into a mess of greenish sludge, her ejection like the violent birth of some unspeakable horror from a monstrous womb. The goo steamed in the cold morning air. Jessie pulled herself to her knees, the insanity of recent events a dim echo through her drunken haze. Too fucked up to understand what was going on.\n\n“What the hell was that thing?”\n\nShe looked up at the trashmen, one of who was holding what seemed to be an ornate broadsword. The blade was covered with sludge, but even through the disgusting coating shone through markings etched into the steel, runes shining with cold blue fire. The other had some sort of hose which was sucking up the remainder of the sludge. She sat there, stunned, as they finished up their work.\n\n“If someone doesn’t tell me what the fuck just happened,” she said through gritted teeth, “I’m gonna start yelling rape.”\n\nThe trashmen shared another glance. The one with the hose walked back to the truck and resumed his place at the back. The other tossed the sword into the loading mouth and kneeled to face her.\n\n“Lady, you’re still covered in piss.”\n\nHe tossed the handkerchief in her face and hopped up to cling onto the back of the truck and signalled to the driver. The truck rolled away to leave Jessie alone on the pavement, covered in slime and dried piss. She didn’t even notice, having passed out before the handkerchief hit her face. She wouldn’t wake up sober until the next afternoon where she found herself in a jail cell, covered in piss and what she assumed was garbage water." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: There are superpowers, but all of them are either really minor, mundane, or niche. It’s those who figure out how to exploit them to their fullest that are the heroes and villains." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Shiny Sue smiled down at little Timmy laying bundled in a white receiving blanket. Timmy had yet to manifest any powers, but Sue had high hopes for him. She turned to her husband, Buffalo Wing Byron, who was leaning against the door watching her.\n\n\"He's fast asleep, Byron,\" said Sue. \"Shall we get on with tonight's mission?\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, of course.\" Byron straightened up gestured at Sue to follow him to the hallway. \"First, though, I need to ask, have you seen my barbecue sauce?\"\n\n\"Nope. Perhaps the dog's gotten into it again.\"\n\nThey looked down at the cocker spaniel snuffling at their feet. Clingy Cyrus, his name was.\n\nByron shook his head. \"Nah, he's been steering clear of my supplies since he accidently ate half of my hot sauce.\"\n\nSue leaned down and gave the dog a pat on the head. Cyrus gazed up at her, ears perked. \"I'm sure it'll be fine. We never use that sauce anyway. Come to think of it...isn't the whole point of your ability to make buffalo wings taste good without any sauce?\"\n\n\"Really, now, you know buffalo wings aren't the only wings out there. I need to be well-prepared in case we come across...him.\"\n\n\"Who? Oh, don't tell me you mean-\"\n\n\"No! We mustn't speak his name. We cannot risk it, not with the baby in the house.\"\n\nSue grabbed her bag of shoe polish and opened the front door. \"Whatever you say. He's not really all that scary, though, honestly. I don't see why you're so frightened.\"\n\nByron trailed after her, slamming the door shut and locking both the security chain and the six padlocks he had set up since Untangling Ulysses moved into town.\n\nThank God the baby was a good sleeper. Perhaps that was his power. Tuckered out Timmy. Sue smirked and headed out to the sidewalk.\n\n\"So!\" Byron said. \"Today's a nice, simple mission. I thought we'd start off light after my time off.\"\n\nThe superhero association was generous with both maternity and paternity leave. Sue returned to work when the baby was two months old, but Byron couldn't bear to be apart from him. Sue sometimes suspected that he was trying to turn Timmy into some sort of condiment superhero. If he was, he'd been resoundingly unsuccessful.\n\n\"Right, right. The jewelry shop, right?\"\n\n\"Yep! A robbery every night, the poor sods. Probably just some teenage punks.\"\n\n\"Yeah, probably.\"\n\nThe neighborhood was entirely composed of families with young children - even Ulysses was raising twins - but that did nothing to quell Byron's fear of teenage criminals. Sue had to set up an alarm system on Halloween in case some kid tried to prank them. Byron had waited outside with a ketchup gun.\n\nThe jewelry shop was just a few blocks away. From the outside, it looked like a worn-down indoor market. The windows sagged, and thin trails of moss climbed its walls. Sue hoped there were no spores.\n\nByron eased open the door with a loud, lingering creak. He peered inside, and he stood motionless for a long moment, and there was silence.\n\nThen both he and Sue were on the ground, bound in a tangle of wires and necklace chains. Byron lay silent and motionless beside Sue. She tried to work herself free, but the wires were surprisingly strong.\n\nA dark figure loomed above them. Sue froze, her heart racing, her mind clouded by sudden and overwhelming terror.\n\nIt was none other than Ulysses the Untangler. Of course it was. And, knowing him, he'd never bother to let them out of this mess, even though he was the only one in the city who could even hope to untangle all these wires and chains." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: You are the saint, and in the contract of the saint: You will be turned to indestructible stone, and the land you stand on will be free famine, but once a year you will turn back to enjoy one day free. This time, however, you find your home village destroyed." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As consciousness returned to the being the stone crumbled and faded from perception as landed on the garden. The flowers awakened his senses to their sweet aroma. His fingers relished in the clumps of grass that he took in his hands. Waking up each day, Andrew took in every sensation of a budding spring, fresh air. Sleeping through the rest he simply had to take nature at its word that they had happened past his twentieth year.\n\nThe brilliant hues of daybreak greeted his vision and welcomed a smile on his face. One that promptly faded.\n\nBeyond the sacred garden were the worshipping grounds of Andrew’s people, the land on which his ever-maturing family welcomed him into the world and said their farewells. These worshipping grounds, touched by the sacred garden, were the first sight introduced to a new face. Generations had been put into manicuring that precious earth.\n\nBefore Andrew was a wasteland. The dais that held the eternal roots of his people ended against stained dirt. A putrid stench trampled the awakening sense of wonder that had first caressed Andrew. And his greeting party stared at him, unblinking, from stakes. Imitations of the flowers that had once overtaken the land.\n\nThe roar of a beast tore through the still homes, yet Andrew was alone. He knew he had tried to fight it, the aches through his body assured him that. This last year had taken more lifeblood than any before it. The body of a man in his prime is now gone. Yesterday, he had blessed a new life, the day before blessed the woman who bore the life. With hardly a change in this cursed body. His hatred of being a mere observer overtaken by his love of his people’s smiles. Yet a lifetime of strife would be worth undoing this atrocity.\n\nAndrew stood and walked through the new garden of his people and searched for understanding. The heads fresh, the houses untouched and stocked well. They had recently left and had no intention of robbery. They simply had a point to make.\n\nNewly sown land painted the landscape and livestock idly observed. Famine had never touched this land. Not since he welcomed it within him. Fertile land and healthy cattle all he could offer his people who died only meters away. If they had touched these lands, Andrew’s body would have given out before a lick of fire could reach it. Yet the land is empty without the people.\n\nThe roar of a beast devolved into the sobs of a lonely man.\n\nAndrew knew of anger, it produced squabbles in children and battles in men. Laughing children running through the street would just as quickly scream and fight. He had witnessed this with a grin, those that he would have run with through the streets had stories that were already complete. The memories of them were what turned him back to the sacred garden and continued his meditations that all called for the self as a part of a whole. Meditations on family, community, true friendship. Anger had all but been forgotten as a sensation.\n\nNow a flame sparked within Andrew and became the pilot flame to an inferno that had one purpose. To engulf.\n\nWhen the heathens returned Andrew had returned to the sacred garden. He held the gaze of mother and son, father and daughter. And he stoked the flame. Feeding it the beautiful smiles, the loving embraces, the caress of lovers. The admiration of those who relied on him burned white-hot and the fire sustained.\n\nThe band of heathens entered the soiled earth and seemed at home. Joy and ease brought raucous sound while the lives on the road brought uneasiness to their bodies. Ready to strike and hesitant to put their most trusted ally behind their back. They returned to finish their job, Saint’s Awakening being widely known and widely celebrated. Their job not finished, the head of a Saint being the only treasure worth taking from such a village of simpletons.\n\nAndrew took in the sight before him and remembered his vows and his duty. He remembered taking the oath over his brothers. Brothers who were better than him, brothers who knew to turn the other cheek. Even then he had known that he was not the best of them. He allowed it merely because it was insisted to be the divine duty. It wasn’t man’s choice. Andrew now understood why a flawed brother was taken over a pious one.\n\nStoking the fire, Andrew entered his meditation. Mind empty of all but discord and chaos, fire eating away at community and family. Andrew broke eye contact with the woman whose labor he had blessed two short days ago and before the jovial band closed his eyes. He poured his lifeblood into the fire. The form of stone welcomed him as the sky bled and the fields burned.\n\nWhen nothing was left, the statue crumbled and the sacred garden wilted." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: The citizens of the United States and Russia switch all citizens for a week between the countries." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Somewhere an hour or so outside of Tyumen, Russia:\n\n\"It's damn cold,\" Clay muttered, sitting on steps the porch he'd woken up to that morning and staring at the snow covered field stretching to dead a tree line a football field's length away, \"You think we can catch the A&M game from here?\"\n\nHe wished he brought his winter coat; it would probably get colder before anybody figured out how they turned up here and how they would get home. The thermometer in the kitchen read \"5\" but everything in the house proved to be in metric and damn useless. 5 could mean anything for all Clay cared.\n\n\"Doubt it,\" replied Jeb, taking a swig out of a bottle he'd found in a cabinet, \"The vodka is damn good though.\"\n\nHe offered Clay the bottle for another sip. The other man didn't hesitate, downing the largest gulp he could muster. It wasn't bourbon, but it went down a bit smoother.\n\n\"Yeah, not bad,\" he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his cotton button up.\n\nThe two sat in silence, staring out at the frozen nothing stretching before them. They'd been home when they went to bed last night, and woken up in neighboring houses in a frozen wasteland. Neither man quite knew what to make of the situation. The writing on everything was all scribbles and backwards letters. The TV channels all broadcasted horrible soap operas or talk shows in languages they couldn't process. The kitchen contained some fish, some potatoes, and some frozen vegetables, but not much else. After an hour or so of confusion, the two men resigned to wait on the porch until someone came around with a better explanation of their predicament.\n\nAt least the vodka was good.\n\n\"Think we could go shoot a bear?\" Jeb asked idly, swallowing another gulp from the glass bottle. \"There's probably bears.\"\n\nClay thought for a second and shrugged, \"Yeah, sounds good to me.\"\n\nXXXX\n\nSomewhere an hour or so outside of Amarillo, Texas:\n\nVlad sat in the kitchen, his green nylon tracksuit sweater unzipped and his matching sweatpants rolled to his knees. He'd never experienced such heat, even in the summer. There was no escape. 95 had seemed like a reasonable temperature on the thermostat, but he didn't know the American system and didn't care. He'd gotten it down to 82 and it was still nearly as hot as standing outside. He'd made that mistake when he'd woken up and stared out at the vast flat grassland around the house. Nothing for miles but blue sky and green grass.\n\nHe flipped through the channels of the TV in the kitchen, looking for anything familiar. Eventually he recognized MTV, and left it on even though he could hardly understand the language. It was better than nothing.\n\n\"What do we do?\" he asked his neighbor, Yerlick, who had woken up in a house on the back of the property in the same strange land.\n\nYerlick, had disappeared to root around the pantry, couldn't offer much help. \"Wait?\"\n\nVlad shrugged in agreement. Not much they could do but wait and see what happened.\n\nYerlick reappeared with a red box of cans under one arm. Vlad tried to read the white writing scrawled across the front but he couldn't remember his English lessons from grammar school. He'd never cared for English. His neighbor held an open can in the other, from where he'd sampled the contents of the new environment. \"It's warm and I think they put water in it, but it's not bad.\"\n\nVlad took a can and hurriedly cracked it open. It indeed, tasted like water, but it could have been worse." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: A boring day in the life a villain, after he's gained power but before anyone challenges it." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The emperor sat down on his throne atop the highest point of the citadel, rubbing his hands with glee. He had strived so long to take this throne, and now it was all his... all of it.\n\nHe had raised taxes, had military garrisons everywhere. The people were poor, impoverished and too weak to fight back. Everything was ticking over just fine.\n\nHe strummed his fingers against the throne.\n\nThere was a frantic knock on the door. He perked up, and beckoned the messenger in.\n\n\"Is it the rebels\" He asked steepling his hands ominously.\n\n\"No sir, the chef wants to know your requests for dinner\"\n\n\"I'll have a bacon sandwich\"\n\n\"Sir, he is the finest chef in the kingdom, who only wants to provide you with the finest of cuisine\"\n\n\"Then make it a really good bacon sandwich.\"\n\nThe emperor paused for a second, and grinned\n\n\"Under pain of torture\"\n\nHe could see the messenger almost visibly sigh.\n\n\"Yes sir\"\n\nNot quite the reaction he wanted, but to be fair, he had been using the same threat for the last two weeks, probably time to get a little bit more creative.\n\nHe began strumming his hands on the throne again. There was another knock on the door. he perked up again as another messenger ran in.\n\n\"Has that adventurer escaped from the oubliette?\"\n\n\"You mean Hagar the conqueror ? We buried him last week. He was just skin 'n' bones.\"\n\n\"why didn't you tell me ?\"\n\n\"Didn't think you'd care, the point of an oubliette is to throw people in there an forget about them.\"\n\n\"Oh, very well, what was the message you wanted to give me\"\n\n\"Oh yes. We just got the invoice for the new siege engines. We all can't wait to have goes on them, but we just need you to sign off on the paperwork.\"\n\n\"Indeed. Incidentally, what's the progress on the pit of snakes ?\"\n\n\"Yeah, there's been a hold up in the supply chain. Won't be arriving for a month. The breeder still needs to breed up all one thousand snakes. But he's giving us a really good discount\"\n\n\"So we just have a pit then\"\n\n\"We got one snake, so we can just call it the snake pit.\"\n\n\"Very well, is that everything ?\"\n\n\"Oh, the master of coin will be sending the monthly tax revenues and expenditures over to you to sign off on.\"\n\n\"Good, better get going, before i have you flayed alive and covered in salt\"\n\n\"Oh, does that mean you're getting kev those special knives he's been after\"\n\nThe emperors brow knitted together in confusion\n\n\"Kev?\"\n\n\"The head torturer. He really wants some flensing knives, tells me the ones he uses at the moment ain't up to the job.\"\n\n\"Oh er, yes, sure, i'll see that that is taken care of.\"\n\nAnd he waved the servant away, but just as he was leaving, he added\n\n\"An remind him that bad workmen who blame their tools, can end up.. no wait damn, he's gone\" he said, mostly to himself.\n\nThen he stood up, stretched, and announced to no-one in particular.\n\n\"Time for a wank\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: A tyrant is getting tired of ruling and wants to bring their era to a close. But they can't just give up their seat. No, their reign of terror needs a proper finale." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Azaroth looked down at the candidate and smiled. The boy was perfect for the job! Scrawny enough to tick the underdog box. Average looking. Average intelligence. Raised on a farm. Happy loving family... for now anyway.\n\n'You'll do perfectly, Tom\". Azaroth said. His deep voice echoed throughout his dark chambers.\n\n\"My name is Atilius, my lord\".\n\n\"No, no. Atillius sounds too heroic. Your name must be relatable\", said Azaroth.\n\n\"But I like my name\".\n\nAzaroth clicked his fingers. A blank look appeared on Tom’s face.\n\n“Tom is your name. It is a fitting name. Tom Fletcher. Never left the farm. Loving parents. It’ll do perfectly”.\n\n“If you say so, my Lord”. A small drop of drool was forming on Tom’s lower lip.\n\nAzaroth paced around the chambers, thinking. “It should be easy to put together.”, he said, mostly to himself. “First the tragedy. Then the call to adventure. The revelation when he finds out who did it. Excellent.”\n\nHe turned to Tom and clicked his fingers. The life returned to the boy’s eyes.\n\n“What is your name, boy?”\n\n“Tom. Tom Fletcher. Who are you?”\n\nAzaroth smiled and clicked his fingers. Tom disappeared in a puff of smoke.\n\nStage one went somewhat according to plan. After finding his parents dead in the barn one morning, Tom set off on a quest to find who murdered them. He had but one clue: a handwritten receipt dropped from one of the assailants. The scrawling text, now wet with the blood of his dead family, mentioned the name of a shop, The Smirking Racoon. Conveniently, it also had a map showing the location of the shop in relation to the farm. It looked like it was west of here. Or was it east? Tom set off East, in the direction of the rising sun.\n\nA couple hours later Tom felt a sudden lightness in his body and his world went black. When he came to, he was heading West again, the sun against his back.\n\nHe reached The Smirking Racoon just as the sun was about to set. It was part tavern, part general good store, squished in the middle of a small town teeming with mercenaries, warlocks and tradesmen. All eyes turned on Tom as he pushed his way through the door. It seemed they weren’t used to strangers around these parts.\n\nBut Tom wasn’t worried, for his mind had just registered where he was and what he could do. All his years on this earth he had been forbidden from drinking alcohol. He skipped merrily up to the counter, forgetting his quest for now.\n\n“One of those things, please”. He said to the barman, pointing to a handle of amber liquid clasped in the hand of a mercenary at the bar. Not knowing how much it cost, he whipped the pouch of coins from his pant pocket – his parents’ life savings – withdrew a couple, and clinked them between his fingers. The barman set to work.\n\nOne hour later, Tom, now a few coins lighter and with a voice gone hoarse from singing, staggered back to the bartender for his fourth round of ale. He was reaching for his purse when two burly mercenaries pushed through the door and muscled their way to the bar.\n\n“Now that was a bloody fun day” said one, slamming a meaty fist down on the bar top.\n\n“Damn right. Pity they didn’t have any coin though.”\n\nThe first mercenary shrugged. “What do you expect. They were farmers. Besides, the boss will pay us.”\n\n“Why’s he paying us to kill farmers anyway”.\n\n“I heard it was something to do with a prophecy. Some kid who will bring about the end of Azaroth’s rule or something like that. I don’t know. Sounds a bit dumb to me”.\n\n“Hugely dumb. But as long as we get paid.”\n\nTom, not hearing any of this, was fast asleep on the bar counter, dreaming about ponies.\n\nThat was until sudden rush of what felt like wind swept through him, replacing the ponies with darkness.\n\n“So you’d like sword”, came a voice from in front of him.\n\nTom shook his head. He was standing at the bar, quite sober.\n\n“Yes”, said Tom resolutely. He took the unspent coins from his pocket, hoping they’d be enough.\n\nThe door of the pub burst open and Tom turned to see two mercenaries swagger in, dried blood caked on their chainmail and cloaks.\n\nFrom his vantage in the back of the Tavern, Azaroth leaned forward in anticipation. Sure there had been a few hiccups thus far. The boy was just an average-looking farm boy. True his was a bit stupider than he anticipated. But it would all be worth it in the end. This would be a climax for the ages." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Time travelers like to recruit people from our time period, because people from an earlier period don't understand how advanced technology works, and people from the future are used to automation, and don't know how to do much of anything themselves." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "My mind raced faster than the engine as I drove down 296. I hadn't left the house in the best mood, after letting Marcy have the last word, if you don't count slamming the door. The argument was a while in coming, but I didn't expect it to come to a head while I was getting ready for work.\n\nI drifted over a lane and passed a slower car on the right. Idiot shouldn't be in the passing lane driving so slowly.\n\nMy phone chirped to announce a message. I glanced down at the cup holder only long enough to see Marcy's name and \"Ted, please ...\" before my eyes went back to the road. I checked the mirror and moved back to the left. Traffic slowed a little as the road turned and we climbed uphill.\n\nAnother chirp sounded. I ignored it. Didn't have time. Concentrated on the cars.\n\nChirp. Chirp. Was everyone crawling now or was I going faster?\n\nChirp. Will you just let me get across the damn bridge before I deal with this?\n\nChirp.\n\nEnough. I grabbed the phone, leaning it on the steering wheel. Glanced back and forth between the road and the texts. Sorry for this, need to talk about that. (Need to get around that minivan.) We need to be more open.\n\nI saw an opening in traffic. I dropped the phone, swung the wheel and gunned it to fill the gap.\n\nThe phone chirped again. I looked to see where I'd dropped it, scooped it up. \"NOT NOW!\" I thumbed at her.\n\nLooking back at the road, I saw the back of a trailer coming up on me fast. I jammed my foot on the brake pedal. The rear swerved around me, hitting another car. The jolt took my foot off the pedal for a moment and the car lurched forward, smashing through the barrier and launching me into the air over the ravine.\n\n\"Not now.\"\n\nMy eyes locked on the grass and rocks far below, when they all disappeared in a white fog. A cloud? What was this?\n\nEverything faded away, the dashboard, the steering wheel in my grip. I could feel myself sitting in a chair, surrounded by white, all noise faded away, except for a low hum.\n\nThen a voice said, \"Welcome, Mr. Carpenter.\" Slowly a figure became visible. He was dressed in a white robe. His face was pale and his white hair was cropped close to his head. His beard was likewise trimmed.\n\n\"We are sorry about the events of your recent past. However, we have an offer for you.\"\n\nIt was an illusion. Or delusion. Or something. Had to be. What was going on? \"Did I just go nuts? What is all this?\"\n\n\"No, Mr. Carpenter,\" the older man replied in a level voice. \"You just drove off a bridge. In a few moments, you will die. Back then. Or you can live here. Now.\n\n\"You are, by your reckoning, in the 52nd century. One of our Time Scouts spotted you. We did some research, a background check, if you will, and then transported you here.\"\n\nMy head was spinning. Fifty-second century? \"Why?\"\n\n\"We have need of your services. Our society is well-automated, but it has stagnated. We have so much machinery, that we have lost many skills of the past. We have discovered that you are something of a handyman and a bit of a gardener. You also have a few interesting hobbies of note.\"\n\nThis made no sense. \"I'm no expert. Why me?\"\n\nThe old man smiled. \"I assure you that you are more of an expert than most around here. You have almost as much to teach us as we can teach you. Yes, there are many candidates we could select, and some many be better suited for our needs but you fit one important requirement.\"\n\n\"Which is?\"\n\n\"You're about to die. In the 21st century. Your disappearance will have no affect on the timeline.\"\n\nThe fog in my head seemed to be lifting. I was able to glance around and make out that I was sitting in a small room, propped up on a small chair, all as white as the man's clothes. The only color came from my jacket, slacks and shoes.\n\n\"And if I don't agree to this.\"\n\nThe man frowned. \"That is your choice, of course. We would have to put you back inside your vehicle, and let history continue as it did before.\"\n\nNo. Not then. \"Then I guess I accept. I choose to live. Now.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: You made a deal with the devil for your greatest desire. You lost, but reading the contract over, you find a loophole. Not only does he not get your soul, but..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I couldn't believe this, was I really the first to learn about this, or just he thought no one would be crazy enough to attempt it. \"The bearer of the true name listed here as Solinsarifel and referred to as such from here on out agrees to the surrender of his soul in 6 years, 6 hours, and 6 minutes from the time of granting the request named for this contract found in section 2\" I had asked how to change a true name. It had taken years to discover even the basics of them, and then it had taken even longer to learn my own. Finally though I was here, I had the information. The contract would finally try and claim me in an hour. Of course I suspect they never thought I'd actually be able to alter my true name. Humans are bad at growth after a certain point so true names tend to stick. They represent the core of a person somehow. My original name surrounded a core of curiosity, generosity, and kindness to all things. I'd traded a lot of that away or watered it down.\n\nI spent the next hour setting up my basement/bar. Two glasses carefully placed, a bottle of my best whiskey sitting between them. Ice cubes made of holy water placed in both glasses. After all you got to get your kicks where you can and when. I checked the carved pentagram on the back side of the bar. No marks, no damage. If I needed it's defenses they'd give me the few moments extra that could make all the difference. I looked at the carpet hiding the larger summoning circle. Wouldn't be of any use today but it was a nice reminder of what I'd done all this for. I reached down to my hip and felt the comforting grip of my blade. God that thing had cost me almost as much as my Name. Hopefully I wouldn't need it but who could really know for sure.\n\nI saw it out of the corner of my eye, a dark corner of my basement seemed to suck in a little more light then it should have and then after a moment it flashed brighter, all the shadows from my basement gone. I sighed and reached a hand into jacket pocket and pulled out my shades. Hated wearing the things but some of these bastards couldn't just be nice. Then a voice, gorgeous, melodic, as close to perfect as I imagine any human ears have heard spoke.\n\n\"Solinsarifel, your contract was fulfilled and payment is due. I am here to collect.\"\n\nI grinned and then shrugged my shoulders and cracked my knuckles. \"Huh, pretty sure that ain't me. Also where's Jim, he was the one who wrote it up.\"\n\nThere was a pause and then the voice rose in anger and in command spoke \"Solinsrifel, by your true name are you bound and you will do as I command.\"\n\nI turned my face directly towards the light. \"I'll speak slowly this time since you're a bit slower then Jim, there is no...one...here...named...Solinserifel.\" The light dimmed some and then a vision showed behind it. A gorgeous creature, I can't do it justice in words. People think angels look like winged humans. They don't, depending on their mood and choices they look different, but those trying to be more pleasant are somehow the appearance of every positive human emotion and experience you've ever had. All of them condensed into a single moment in time, then stretched into eternity. I admit I wasn't expecting this and it caught me off guard for a moment.\n\nThe vision spoke \"Yes, I am.\" that snapped me out of it.\n\n\"No, you wish you were. Still, surprised to see little Lucy up here for a mundane collection.\"\n\nSuddenly the appearance shifted, the creature before me was now every bit of anger, rage, vengeance, cruelty and terror instead.\n\nI gritted my teeth and nodded \"Yes, you're terrifying when you want to be, but you can't touch those you don't have a deal with or a summoning from, so why don't you tone it down.\" The being seemed to step out of it's light and douse it at the same time, and my basement became far more dreary even though the lights I used were some of the highest quality. Standing there now was a man, tall, handsome, the kind you'd describe with phrases like 'chiseled features', 'lithe muscle', 'pure allure'. Still even though the body was near flawless the eyes were off, glassy and unresponsive as if he was daydreaming and didn't see anything in front of him.\n\n\"Solinsarifel\" it began in a tone that spoke of barely restrained rage.\n\n\"Look it's not going to work and it's getting annoying. Call me Hunter, it's shorter, faster and more accurate.\" I interrupted the lord of all demons.\n\n\"Fine, Hunter, you still owe on the contract and I still aim to collect. I don't know what tricks you've used to protect yourself but you will be coming with me.\"\n\n\"Nope.\"\n\n\"Nope?\" There was no anger in that response just confusion.\n\n\"A few missed facts. One I don't owe you anything, Solinsarifel does. Two, You can't claim someone you don't have a deal with. Three, I really would like to know where Jim is, I thought after our last meeting he'd be gungho to be here.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: Everytime you look into the ocean, you can see the bottom every time. You don't fully understand why. Until one day, you see a tiny cog on your arm. You tap into it, and find the settings to your body- Render distance, Difficulty and Controls. You decide to tamper around with the settings." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "'Rosie,' I heard my mother Grace's voice, 'the table is set.'\n\nThere weren't many rules in our family, but one of the few was that we always sat together at the table. Though, we weren't like the other families either – a band of weirdos mother Grace picked up along the way.\n\n'I'm coming!' I yelled back.\n\nI loved sitting by the ocean, one of the reasons mother Grace had been saving to bring us here. I could spend the entire day just gazing into this magical world of life that was so different from us.\n\nI like the most those fishes on the very bottom of the sea. They had those little head-lamps and ugly faces, and enough teeth to keep other creatures away.\n\nI'd like that. I'd like to be a little ugly fish at the bottom of the ocean that was freaky enough to be left alone. To be honest – I was a bit freaky, but it wasn't in some spectacular way that would make me famous or something. It was just that my concept of the world seemed a bit skewed.\n\nIn the summer nights I could see every single constellation in the sky and tell each star apart. I saw the ocean not as a salty splashy thing with water that gets too dark and too scary after a minute, but the entirety of it – different forms of life, their interaction and their role in the system as a whole. I saw that with people too. The only thing I couldn't understand was my place in all of it.\n\nAnd now I had the chance to change it.\n\nVictor came last night with something that in first sounded like one of his crazy stories. He was the closes thing to a brother I had so I always listened but not necessarily agreed, until he showed me the cog.\n\nOn the back of his neck, right inside the little hole, there was a metal cog. He pressed it and in front of his face appeared a screen with something that looked like the settings table. After almost an hour of yelling and other forms of negotiation I decided to allow him to change one setting – just one and for just one notch – up or down. He decided to change his sight settings to maximum and we spent the night gazing at the stars – he explained me position of different galaxies and how the universe works. This morning we found of he didn't get the scholarship and I had no idea how to cheer him up. I was his genius big sister, but I was sick of seeing how life mistreated him.\n\nOne thing I knew – it wasn't supposed to be this way. Mother Grace did make a huge difference for us, but even with all her help, each one of us suffered through so much crap to last us for ten lifetimes.\n\nI pressed the cog and my table with settings appeared. Difficulty level – I was set to 9 – the hardest. I was a hypocrite, I knew, but those things I told Victor last night were for his own safety. I didn't want him to mess his life until we figure out how this thing works. As for me, I was just sick and tired of running inside my little hamster wheel – going nowhere and having nothing and wasting what I had of life in the process.\n\nConfirm the change. It blinked on the screen. The difficulty was now set to 2 and I was never more certain about a decision in my entire life. I pressed confirm and another screen appeared. The changes of other parameters automatically adjusted – each one of them lowering to an according level.\n\nNo one ewer kept the bloody cake and ate it too so I just kept pressing confirm until the thing was over.\n\n'Rosie, we are waiting,' Grace was calling me.\n\n'Coming!' I yelled. My phone was ringing.\n\nI sauntered to the terrace to see everyone was waiting for me. Grace had a rule – we all had to sit together during the meals. I had no idea how that was going to give a sense of home to a bunch of orphans but...sure, Grace was good to us.\n\n'I got the job,' I smiled, sitting down. Victor and Ben were gaping at me.\n\n'In the hardware store?' Ben asked.\n\nI shook my head, grinning. 'I've sent an application to an architectural firm but I said nothing because...' I had no idea why I said nothing. 'And I start tomorrow.'\n\n'Go, Rosie, go!' Victor and Ben started chanting.\n\n'I'm so happy for you, Rosie,' Grace pressed a kiss on my forehead.\n\nWe finished the meal and I was finally free to go.\n\n'Rosie!' Victor called after me. 'Wanna go and watch the stars tonight? I'll bring the blanket and and some snacks you can tell Ben all about the constellations.m just like you taught me when I was little.'\n\nI smiled. 'I'd like but, there nothing to see really. It's because we're in the city,' I said only because he looked like I just kicked him, 'city lights and stuff don't allow you to see the stars with the naked eye. It's the damn pollution.' I added just to say something. 'I'll buy him a telescope if they give me a good salary.' No matter what I said Victor kept looking at me like I did something wrong.\n\n'I was thinking about changing my settings,' Victor said. It sounded like he was almost daring me.\n\n'Sure kid, do whatever you want,' I ruffled his hair.\n\n'What have you done, Rosie?' He demanded.\n\nThis kid really had to chill out. 'Everything is fine, Victor, everything is perfectly fine.'\n\nFor more from me r/CrystalElmTales" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: Some of us are still \"it\" from childhood games of tag. You're determined to be it no longer. (Inspired by u/chuff)" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I wipe my eyes and get away the morning rust from a long nights sleep. I sit up and turn off my alarm that was shattering my ear drums. I go to the bathroom and throw water on my face, shower, get ready for work, just like any ordinary day.\n\nI look in the mirror as I finish looping the last loop of my tie, I stare at myself for a little more than a moment, then I decided.\n\nToday is the day.\n\nI tighten my tie up to my neck, so much that I almost choked myself. I know today is going to be the day I tag Benny \"The Jet\".\n\nYears ago on the playground, a large group of friends and I used to play tag. It was so much more than tag, it was a lifestyle. Benny was the best at it though, he would dodge arm swings, ran faster, jumped higher, and agile'd agiler. He was the star, and even with the playground fame he never let it go to his head. He was so kind and pleasant to everyone, well, except me. Benny always seemed to avoid me, when playing tag, in class, anything. It hurt me more than he will ever admit that I wanted to be a part of what he had, but he didn't want me to be apart of his life. Every day we used to play and my only goal was tagging Benny; maybe then he would notice me and be my friend. However, I never was able to tag him.\n\nI snap back to reality, realizing that I haven't seen or heard from Benny in years. That small hiccup wasn't going to stop me, though. I pull the shoe strings on my best running shoes, I was determined to tag Benny, and nothing was going to stop me.\n\nI ran to the nearest corner market and bought the first phone book I saw. My finger racing through the white pages:\n\nBenny...Benjamin...Bernard...\n\nI couldn't find his name. My life seemed to shatter around me, was my journey over so fast?\n\nI pulled out my phone to check twitter, Facebook, MySpace, Xanga. Anything to get me the information I needed.\n\nThen I seen it. His location, he was recently tagged with multiple family members and a ton of friends at a single location. \"We'll miss you, Benny!\" Must've been a going away party or something. This is perfect, I'll be able to embarrass him in front of his co-workers, just like he insulted me at school.\n\n\"He's going to be sorry he didn't invite me, he's going downnnnnn\" I mumbled to myself, trying not to look insane because I was still in public.\n\nI sprinted to my car, knowing that my time has come, all the years of mental torture are coming to a close. Today is my day and nothing is going to stop me. Checking my phone for the address I can see myself getting closer, 5 miles. 4.20 miles, 3.1, 2.6, 1.8, .9, until I finally arrive.\n\nI pull up to a dark garden with large metal gates with vines engulfing them with their grasp. I get out and start running as fast as my legs will take me. I ran through the garden as if I was a horse with blinders, straight ahead is all I was focusing on.\n\nIn the distance I see a large group of people.\n\n\"Here I come, Benny!\" I think to myself, assuming that group of people is the party that had tagged him. I run faster, feeling the wind pick up around me as I cut through it like a knife. I'm getting closer I can start to see people's faces. I immediately start to scan for Benny's. Not slowing down at all I continue to speed towards the group of people. I can feel the empowerment burning in my hand, waiting to pass the title onto Benny.\n\nI stop immediately. My body goes numb, I can't feel anything.\n\nI approach the party, and finally it all hits me at once.\n\nThis isn't a garden, it's a graveyard.\n\nThis isn't a party, it's a service.\n\nI walk up to the edge of the hole in the ground that people are lowering a casket into. Time seems to slow to a complete stop, seconds felt like minutes, minutes felt like hours, hours felt like days.\n\nA girl Benny and I went to school with together recognizes me, and grabs my hand.\n\n\"Benny talked a lot about you, even if you guys haven't talked in years.\n\nHe always talked about how on the playground he would always avoid you the most playing tag because he knew you were the only one that could catch him.\"\n\nMy throat swells up and I feel my breathing stop.\n\n\"He wishes he would've been your friend, he always held that regret that he wasn't friendlier to people he felt threatened by.\" She continues.\n\n\"How?\" I asked\n\n\"He killed himself. He didn't leave a note, no one is sure why. He wasn't acting strange, didn't have any work changes, no financial changes, he was just unhappy.\"\n\nThe crowd start to dissipate, as it starts to rain.\n\n\"Can I be alone?\" I ask under my breath.\n\n\"...Yeah, take your time.\" She whispers.\n\nI approach Benny's tombstone, which reads:\n\nHere Lies Bernard \"The Jet\"\n\n6-1-1991 to 5-31-2015\n\nI walk up the tombstone, and wipe my eyes from the rain and tear concoction. I gently place my hand at the crest of the tombstone, and with my voice breaking I mutter:\n\n\"You're it.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: The shocking headline of the intergalactic news, \"Humans long thought extinct found on Earth.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The news was brought to the chancellor moments after it began being broadcast over the intergalactic communication lines. The council settled in for what could possibly be the most important meeting of their lifetimes. The council chair rang his bell to start the meeting.\n\n\"According to XC-73Δ9 scouts, humans have been found in a distant arm of the galaxy. These were confirmed to be the same humans from history we all learned about when we were young.\"\n\nThe worry was already on everyone's face. Any skepticism about the news when it first broke was crushed. Humans were back... actual humans. How long had it been?\n\nLead chroniclers of the Hall of Records were called to be there at the meeting. From certain historical accounts of limited credibility, it appeared that sympathizers of the humans stashed the last of them on the far side of the galaxy. Even after the humans nearly destroyed half of the galaxy in war and conquest, they still had their allies.\n\nBut that was dozens of lifetimes ago. For humans, it must have been hundreds. How had they stayed hidden for so long? Had they satisfied their thirst for power? Or do they just know how critically their survival relies on staying hidden?\n\nUpon further details of the scout report, it appears they have many artificial satellites orbiting the planet, but only one vessel was in orbit. No lunar outposts had been established on its only natural satellite. The most interesting part was that no interplanetary vessels were seen leaving the planet, nor any planetary defense system detected.\n\nHow could this be? Humans were once the most feared predators in the galaxy, with technology ahead of many of their rivals (and allies). Their nature was one of greed and dominance - a belligerence never seen before or after the Great Galactic War.\n\n\"It appears that the humans have forgotten their origin. Their history has been lost to time, and they no longer realize the threat they once posed to galactic peace.\"\n\nThe Grand Admiral of the War Fleet stood up at the council chairman’s news. \"If they have not realized the power of interplanetary travel, they can be easily eliminated. I propose we send a few well armored cruisers and wipe them from the galaxy once and for all.\"\n\nTo everyone's surprise, the Federation Chief Diplomat stood up. \"With all due respect Admiral, while it is your duty to protect our worlds, it is my duty to find nonviolent solutions to our problems. If humanity has not even visited their nearest plant, they will be far behind any technology we have. They are also more than four lightyears away from the nearest solar system, which is just as devoid of life as their own was before they were put there. They are harmless and remote. They should be left alone. They should not be burdened by the crimes of their ancestors.\"\n\nFrom there both of their arguments worsened, and the council had to invoke the Chapter of Sephta VI: Should any decision be made about the fate of a planet, world, species, or otherwise, it must be put to a vote by the representative, legislative, and legal branches of the Federation within one stellar month minimum to consider all implications of any final decision.\n\nThe fate of the human race would be decided by those who had never known humans as anything more than an ancient terror or war." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You live in a world where you only age if you currently have children. Now, after 200 years of being a bachelor, you find a grey hair in your hairbrush." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The grey hair.\n\nIt was a sign, an unwanted one. And not one that I ever cared to find, I had certainly enjoyed my fair share of women, perhaps more than my fair share if I was being entirely honest, Bachelorhood did not necessarily mean celibate after all.\n\nHeading for the armoire I dug into the bottom drawer, it was a bit egotist of me but from it, and the concealed compartment, I removed a book and a case. To buck the trend the book wasn't black, but still it was filled with names and numbers of my conquests. Of the case, well that would come later.\n\nI ignored the last twenty pages or so, they were all too recent for me to have gotten them with child. And so I came to the ten pages I felt were in the right time period and dialled the first number.\n\n\"Hey Miranda, it's Grant. Just calling to see how you've been and, you haven't had a baby recently have you?\" The conversation was not long, ten minutes of reminiscing and a negative on the baby meter.\n\nA week.\n\nIt took a week to go through the list and narrow it to four of my ex lovers who had born children in the appropriate time period. With that information, google and facebook, I began researching further, discarding two immediately, for I was neither black nor asian and neither was their mother.\n\nThat left two the research was harder now, namely because I wished to keep doctors, lawyers and scientists with tests out of it. Three months of aging passed before I was able to narrow it down, the data-mining and bribes paid to shady individuals had secured birth records for the two.\n\nAllyssa was the mother of my child, a beautiful baby boy who was perfect. I almost felt a flutter in my heart before I resolved to go and meet the child.\n\nGrabbing the case I headed for Allyssa's home, speeding along the lovely streets of the boulevard without attracting so much as a glance of curiosity, my neighbours were long since familiar with the growl of my cars engine.\n\nThree knocks.\n\nIt didn't take Allyssa long to answer the door smiling, though it was hesitant, \"Grant, it's been a while, please come in.\" The grey creeping into her own hair looked natural and lent her a wise air.\n\n\"Thanks Allyssa, sorry to bother you but after our conversation I thought maybe we should talk.\"\n\nShe beamed a smile, one of hope. \"Of course, come in, come in.\" She invited me in and we entered her lounge where our baby boy was playing in a cot. \"I was hoping you would.\"\n\nI took a seat while she took one facing me as I sat down the case on the table. I flipped the clips and opened it cautiously before smiling. \"It is really good to see you Allyssa, i'm sorry it came to this.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry too, I tried to contact you when...\"\n\nThe look of shock on her face was unforgettable, the horror, betrayal and pain all evident as the forty-five shell punched into her sternum, the suppressed crack of the handgun going off loud to his ears, the boy jumped.\n\n\"I'm sorry Allyssa, I really am. I thought you would prefer it this way, before I take care of our child.\" Blood leaked from her mouth as she slumped and I turned the gun on the boy. \"You weren't the first, probably not the last, but I will not give up immortality that easily.\"\n\nThe gun fired a second time." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: A former child star has given up fame and fortune to pursue a career in academia. PhD candidate Jaden Smith presents his dissertation in Philosophy, \"How Can Mirrors Be Real If Our Eyes Aren't Real\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "So First Of All We Need To Tackle The Matter Of Our Eyes, Which Naive Materialists (Wikipedia Being One Such Case In Point, Since Human Consciousness Is Not Advanced Enough That Our Minds Can Cooperate To Produce A Pedia Of Good So Instead We Make A Pedia Of Wickedness (Wiki Means Wickedness)) Describe As \"The Organs Of Vision\". They Think They Get It THEY DONT THEY DONT THEY DONT!!!!!!!! #EyeBalls #ItsAPunBecauseBallsMeansLies #LieBalls\n\nI Was On A Vision Quest With A Native American Tribe Called The Scientomolgists Once And In That Teepee Was Hot As Shit And Dark As Shit And Shit Is Actually Hot And Dark So This Is A Metaphor But Anyway I Put A Blindfold On My Face And That Covered My \"Eyes\" (Because I Refuse To Write \"Eyes\" Without Sarcasm Quotes Until The Dumbening Circles Of Freeluminati Release The Sheep Masses Who Are Humans But Also Sheep From This False Rapture Of \"Eyes\" Which Don't Exist As I Am About To Prove) But I STILL HAD THE VISIONS!\n\nSo Our \"Eyes\" Are Not The Organs Of Vision? What Happens When We Delete This From The Wikipedia (Because Like The Illumimasons Reality Wikipedia Is A Place Where Truth But Also Lies Can Be Deleted)? Then Wikipedia Says \"Eyes Are.\" And That's Not A Sentence!!!!!! WIKIPEDIA I HAVE SEEN THROUGH YOUR LIES AND DIDNT HAVE TO USE MY \"EYES\" TO DO IT BECAUSE THEY DONT EXIST.\n\nSo Now We've Thrown Our \"Eyes\" In The Garbage Where They Belong To Be Eaten By The Seagulls Lets Take On The Fucking \"Mirrors\".\n\nWickedpedia Says About \"Mirrors\" \"A mirror is an object that reflects light in such a way that, for incident light in some range of wavelengths, the reflected light preserves many or most of the detailed physical characteristics of the original light.\" And I Dont Know What That Means Because The Words Arent Real In The Jaden Language Which Is The Language I Speak That Sounds Like But Isnt English Because That Was Created By Russia In The War To Control The Brains Of America. I Have Never Said \"Wavelegnt\" Cos That Aint A Word And It Doesnt Count That I Said It Then Cos I Used Sarcasm Quotes.\n\nIf We Delete All The Made Up Words Then It Says \"A Mirror Is An That Light In A Way That, For Light In Of, The Light Or Of The Of The Light\". And Thats Not A Sentence Either Suckers!!!!!! What The Hell Is Wikipedia Hiding?\n\nI Did A Google For \"What The Hell Is Wikipedia Hiding\" And Google Gave Me The Wikipedia Page For Hell! Wikipedia Tried To Send Me To Hell For Asking Questions! Luckily I Am To Clever To Fall For It And Didnt Click.\n\nSo That Proves That \"Eyes\" Do Not Exist And \"Mirrors\" Do Not Exist. \"But @OfficialJaden\" You Tweet At Me. \"I Can See My Eyes In A Mirror Right Now!\"\n\nThats What The Chemtrailers Want You To Think But Answer This. If Your Eyes Are Real And The Mirror Is Real Then Why Cant You See With Your Mirror Eyes???????? #Rebutter\n\nThe Powers Of The Vatican And The White House Which Are Really The Same Because Washington Is Actually In Rome Look At All The Roman Buildings Want You To Think You See With Your \"Eyes\" Because Then You Wont See That Our Apples Have No Nutrients And Our Water Is Full Of Aluminum. And They Want You To Think Mirrors Are Real So You Cant See How BEAUTIFUL You Are On The INSIDE Which Is Also Why Doctors Pretend Your Body Is Full Of Gross Pink Stuff Like Meat When Actually Its Just Full Of Light And Stars And Black Holes That Work Backwards Called White Holes Which Are What Gives Our Universe Love From Another Less Evil Universe.\n\nIf You Still Dont Believe Me Then Maybe Your Conscionsentious (Which Is A Jaden Word For Conscious Conscientious Conscience) Isnt Awake Yet. Tell Me When It Is So We Can Make Goodipedia And Chill But Until Then Peace. #Done" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: A stray cats prospective of the apocalypse." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The man who smells of cigarettes hasn't fed me for weeks now. The scent is fading but I'm sure this house was his. Its so quiet, the whole street is quiet, it's so much easier to hear the birds calling without all the human noise. I'm not sure where they've gone or when they'll be back. Sparkle says her owners took off late one evening, she said they put all her food out, they fussed her and hugged her very tightly. They left in their car and they didn't bother to close the front door.\n\nI spray my scent on the mans gate. This has always been my patch and I want to keep it that way for when the man comes back. I know Tyson wants this spot, deaf old cat just refuses to die. I don't know why he's always out sleeping rough, he's got a home, he's not a street cat like me. I've never been a collared cat. The man always puts food out for me but he's never tried to take me in to the smoky house. Sometimes I get bits from the woman over the road too, she's got so many collars living with her that I loose track. She's gone now too, and her collars don't know what to do without her. A fox got one. Dont they know you've gotta be alert on the streets? Bet they don't even know how to use their claws.\n\nAfter weeks of sneaking in and out of houses and rummaging through bins we're starting to run out of scraps. We've never been the type to work together and we ain't about to start now. We're all watching each other to see who hits a jackpot so we can scoop in and take some for ourselves. Sam has been going down the canal trying to get at the ducklings. He's a collar but he's always been going up and down the street like he owns the place. It's because he was given a human name, thinks he's all high and mighty. Well now he's been left behind just like the rest of us.\n\nI've been thinking about that young lady. I was rolling around in the sunshine, getting my smell on these slabs. I heard this strange noise and I spring up to see her looking at me. She starts kneeling and she is reaching out towards me making these weird noises. I don't know what these noises are supposed to be but we've figured that humans make them to get our attention. So we just kinda choose whether or not to ignore these weird noises because after all, if we want a fuss or some food we'll come to you, not the other way round! Sometimes you just wish these humans spoke your language, you know?\n\nAnyway. So she's there kneeling and reaching out to me. She edged a little closer and put her hand out to my face. I sniffed her knuckle, she smelt like lavender, tea, and bread, but I couldn't smell any food for me. All of a sudden she moves her hand around the back of my head and scratches my ear. I freak out. Quick as a flash I bash her hand with my paw. She recoiled in shock and I ran under a near by parked car to hide. When I was young and I was taken into the white place with the cages they got me there by reaching behind me and grabbing my neck. When she reached behind me that's all I could think of, and it scared me.\n\nMaybe I made the humans go away. Maybe I was one scratch too many. Maybe the kneeling lady showed the rest of the humans her hand. Maybe they decided that the strays were too dangerous and the collars were ungrateful. Maybe I was too afraid so the cigarette man decided not to feed me anymore and left. Maybe I'm the reason all the collars on this road don't have their families. Maybe I should have wore a collar. Maybe I'm to blame." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: One night you and 3 of your friends decide to go explore an abandoned house. After a few jokes and pranks you all get bored and the 5 of you decide to leave." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Everything seemed fine until we got out to my car. I had a ton of crap in the backseat. It was something Jay always gave me shit about. I remember shoving it all to one side to make room for everyone before we came out, but there was no way someone could have road on top of the massive pile of clothes and boxes all the way out there. Something felt wrong as I tossed all the crap into the trunk.\n\n\"I've got to be home in a few.\" Mike said\n\n\"It is kinda late.\" Harley said as she climbed into the front seat.\n\nI seemed to be the only one to notice that there was one too many. The problem is that I knew all of them. Maybe Tom met us here, he did live the closest. I didn't want to say anything. Like I said, I definitely knew all of them and hung out every weekend with these guys. I chalked it up to being tired after a long week and started driving.\n\nWe were all pretty quiet on the drive home. Tom was the first house, only five minutes away from the abandoned house. He got out and I realized he had definitely rode over to the house with us. He was a lazy dude and didn't drive, there was no way he walked. I felt like all of us had driven out together. Something told me that wasn't right though.\n\n\"Thanks, that was fun.\"\n\nBy the time I finished that thought we had arrived at Mike's. Mike was my cousin. He had been a part of my life for a long time. I started to get a sick feeling as I pulled out of his driveway. These were all real people. People I had known my whole life. Someone in that car was making me feel uneasy though.\n\nThe feeling was even stronger as I dropped Harley at her mom's place. Jay was smiling as she waved to us from the front door. I couldn't think of where I needed to drive Jay at first.\n\n\"She went in dude, let's go home.\" Jay said as he climbed into the front and started playing with the radio.\n\n\"Where am I dropping you again?\"\n\n\"Our house dumbass. Let's go mom will be pissed.\"\n\n\"No fuck that, you definitely don't live with me.\" I said as I pulled the keys from the ignition.\n\nJay had a wide-eyed expression on his face as he threw open the car door and started sprinting towards Harley's house. I took off after him, wrapping my fingers between my keys. As I approached the dark house I lost sight of him. He went through their carport from what I could tell. I started around back and found him sitting on their back stairs smoking a cigarette. We made eye contact and he grinned.\n\n\"Don't do it dumbass.\" He said, pulling a beer to his lips.\n\n\"What the hell are you?\" I said as I inched forward.\n\nHe just smiled. I ran forward as he smashed the bottle. He jumped forward and knocked me over. He threw his head back and screamed in laughter. He held the bottle to my throat and just kept me pinned. I rolled left and right until I could get my hand free. I slashed at his eyes with the keys and he rolled to the ground. As he laid there holding his eyes and giggling I found a stone lining their garden.\n\nI drove that stone hard into his skull again and again until the laughing stopped, only to be replaced by Harley's screams coming from the top of the back stairs.\n\n\"Call the police.\" I panted\n\n\"No shit asshole.\" She screamed as she slammed the door.\n\nI heard the locks turn on the door and I got that sick feeling again. The police arrived shortly after and took me in.\n\nThe prosecutor's say that I killed Harley's mother. My doctors say that it was a delusion and something I would spend my whole life trying to overcome.\n\nI couldn't tell you what Jay is or was. I haven't seen him since. I don't know if Jay followed us out of that house. I don't know if he's always lived in me.\n\nMy mother told me that I had a lot of imaginary friends as a kid. Could be that he just stuck around a lot longer than the others. Either way the thing that really sticks with me is the vivid memories of him talking with my friends all night that night. They even called him by name. They won't answer my letters. The last time I saw any of them was that night. So here I sit wondering what he is, or what I am." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: It's your first visit to the city. You quickly notice that the populace is as terrified of their heroes as they are of the villains." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lora made sure her car was perfectly positioned in the parking spot. Not to close to either side, so nobody would have to struggle to leave. She smiled at her handiwork and nodded. Yes, that was good. A good first impression on the residents of her new apartment started with such common curtsies. She went to retrieve her bags from the trunk when someone got her attention.\n\n\"Hey there.\" Said a young man. \"Haven't seen you around here before.\"\n\nLora turned to look. The man was around her age, and was quite easy on the eyes.\n\n\"And how would you know?\" She said. \"it's a big building. You never know who you haven't seen before.\"\n\n\"I suppose that's true. But I'm absolutely sure that I would remember such a woman as lovely as you.\"\n\nLora giggled at the compliment. Sure, she knew he could be a creep, but it was not like she had anything to worry about. Besides, he had super cute dimples.\n\n\"Well, in this case, you are correct. I'm just moving in today.\"\n\n\"Excellent. I guess I came back at the perfect time to help you with your things.\"\n\n\"Hm, well, I suppose an extra set of hands wouldn't hurt.\"\n\nShe moved aside and gave him access to her car's open trunk. He grabbed the largest bag there and heaved. He strained against the weight as he lifted it out and set it on the ground.\n\n\"Quite the bag you've got here.\"\n\nLora shrugged, then she grabbed a different bag. The two contained most of her daily essentials, while the rest would be coming via moving van later. The two chatted as they went to her apartment, where she learned his name was Max.\n\n\"So, Max, what's it like living in a city with a superhero. It must be great to walk down the street without fearing for your life.\" She, for one, could not wait to meet the hero, Stalwart.\n\nMax stiffened and looked away. \"It, uh, it has it's...ups and downs.\"\n\n\"Is there something wrong?\"\n\n\"Well, it's just...listen, you're new here, so you didn't know. But most people don't really...like talking about our resident hero.\"\n\n\"Why? I would've thought he'd be the talk of the town, what with all the good he does.\"\n\n\"Heh, good. Right.\" He slumped his shoulders and it looked like he would have collapsed into a chair had there been one present. \"Let's, let's just say he isn't quite as great as the media paints him to be.\"\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"Listen, Lora, just don't mention him again, okay? Please?\"\n\nWell, now she was curious. Very curious. Stalwart was a living legend. One of the greatest heroes in the world. Why wouldn't the people in the city he protected want to talk about him?\n\n\"Sure, sure. But first, you have to tell me why. Why shouldn't I mention Stal--\"\n\nHe rushed, covering her mouth. \"Shhh. Don't say his name. He...he tends to listen for that.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Whenever someone mentions his name, he tends to pay attention. And if you say anything bad, well, the results aren't good.\"\n\n\"You make him sound like some kind of super villain.\"\n\n\"The difference between him and the villains is pretty minimal. And if you ever seen them fighting, run. If you catch wind of them fighting, get out of whatever building you're in, especially if it's tall.\"\n\n\"Are you saying they cause collateral damage?\"\n\n\"A lot of it. Most people think the guy goes out of his way to cause more, just to make sure people know what he can do. He killed my sister when he threw a villain into her apartment. He killed my dad when his car got hit by a 'stray shot' of his plasma vision. The media brushes all that stuff under the rug, but everyone who lives in this city knows what he does.\"\n\nLora stood there, processing what he was saying. That was when a siren started blaring. It was loud, all pervasive. The color drained from Max's face.\n\n\"We need to go. We need to go now.\"\n\n\"Is that some kind of warning about him?\"\n\n\"Yeah, it is. He's fighting nearby. Now hurry, we've got to get to the ground floor. Then we pray he passes our building.\"\n\nA second later, there was chaos. Lora saw two people crash through the wall. The tumbled over each other, slamming fists, feet and knees into each other. One wore a deep black and red body suit. A villain she did not recognize. The other wore the distinct purple and silver outfit of Stalwart. The two men did not seem to care, even when they crashed into a pillar, causing it to come crashing down on the two residents.\n\nLora stood there, watching it all happen, dumbfounded. Even after listening to everything Max said, she did not fully believe it. How could such a well respected superhero be so destructive and dictatorial? Now she was beginning to understand. They did not have to enter the building. It seemed like both men could fly, and judging from the lack of damage they sustained, the building had not done anything to either of them. All it did was cause harm to those inside. Those like...\n\nWhen the two combatants passed, she began looking for Max furiously. Her initial search did not show anything. That is, until she saw the blood coming from under the pillar that had been knocked down. It was a large metal pillar that had held up a significant section of the roof. Lora did not care. She lifted it and tossed it aside without a second thought.\n\nHis body was broken and mangled. Sliced up be flying debris and crushed by the huge pillar. Lora's face went through a myriad of emotions before settling on anger. She had moved to this city specifically to meet Stalwart. She had dreams of being his partner. Fighting alongside the only man who might be able to keep up with her. But now? That chance had gone out the window. Now she had a much different goal.\n\nLora left the ground and floated out the large hole in the building. She surveilled the far too extensive damage and her anger was tempered by concern for the people inside. She nodded to herself as she set her goals in order. First, she would deal with the building and those inside, saving as many as she could. Then, she would stop the fight from progressing.\n\nIt was time to show the people of this city what a hero really was." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: A gamer is dropped into a fantasy world, where the laws of nature mimic the rules of an RPG. Using his knowledge of gaming tropes, he is able to easily navigate every dungeon, avoid traps, and react perfectly to every \"surprise\" he encounters, much to the shock and awe of his friends and foes." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Council of Mages had summoned me to discuss my successful adventuring career. Now I sat before them, adorned in my spoils, glinting in my magical armour and drinking from the goblet of wine their servant girl had brought.\n\nTheir leader, Elder Guthrie, stood and addressed the chamber. \"Ahem. The Council welcomes Lord Vader, Master of the Iron Throne, Champion of Krull, and Bearer of the Goblet of Fire.\" I smiled into my wine as I drained the remainder from the goblet. I came up with the name my first night in this weird world and quickly added the bullshit titles to it. The servant girl was quick to refill the goblet and I smiled appreciatively as she hurriedly stepped back out of my reach. She'd found out in the hallway what would happen if she wandered too close. Heh.\n\n\"The Council wishes to know how you have come by your success, Lord Vader. You are... not what we were expecting.\" I smirked at him and absentmindedly played with my magical rings. He was referring to my weight, of course. Nearly 400lbs and none of it muscle. I didn't look the part of a hero but I knew every lame trap, puzzle, and surprise that this world had to offer.\n\n\"Perhaps you could explain how it is that you defeated the Gorgon of Leith Hill, a creature so horrible that she...\"\n\n\"Mirror.\"\n\n\"Mirror?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I showed her a mirror and her own reflection caused her to turn to stone. None of you retards ever thought of that?\"\n\n\"Uhm, no. Using her own power against her wasn't... no we hadn't, Lord Vader.\" He looked at the other Elder Council members sheepishly. \"How did you defeat the Lich Lord of the Black Moors?\"\n\n\"I broke his phylactery.\"\n\n\"His...\"\n\n\"Christ, I broke every fucking pot and bottle I could find until he died, alright? Hell I barely saw him.\"\n\n\"You broke bottles and then he died?\"\n\n\"His soul was in one of them, moron. Girl, more wine!\" The servant girl refilled my goblet but couldn't skip away quick enough to avoid having her bottom pinched.\n\n\"How did you defeat...?\"\n\n\"Fuck, let's speed this up, shall we? Silver for the werewolf but I'm not an idiot so I killed him a week BEFORE the full moon when he wasn't 9 feet tall unlike the 10 morons that tried to kill him before me. I dragged the vampire out into the sun because I chose to fight him at NOON and not MIDNIGHT like the local hicks wanted to. He woke up on fire before he exploded. The ghost wanted her locket back so guess what? I got it back for her and blammo no more ghost. I placed heavy stones on the graves and locked all the crypts in the graveyard so that Necromancer dick couldn't have his army then I made with the stabbing until he was dead. Fire for the trolls, cold iron for the fucking faeries, and no sex for the succubus. I didn't wish for more wishes and I solved all the riddles. That answer your questions, Gandalf?\"\n\nHe harumphed and drew himself up to his full height. \"My name is...\"\n\n\"I don't give a shit.\" I downed the rest of the wine and tossed the goblet aside. It clanged on the floor as I heaved my bulk out of the chair and gasped for a moment catching my breath. I looked at the servant girl but she had withdrawn. Calculating the distance between us I quickly decided that she wasn't worth the effort and started walking to the door. As I reached it I leaned against the frame and wiped sweat from my brow. \"One of you is a Demon.\"\n\n\"A Demon? On the Elder Council? That's preposter...\"\n\n\"There's always a Demon on any Elder Council. Just have each of you recite the names of all the good-aligned Gods and kill whoever can't do it.\"\n\n\"Lord Vader, this is ridicu...\" That's as far as Gandalf got before the Elder sitting next to him sprouted horns and ran away. \"I...I...what...?\"\n\n\"My fee is 5000 gold. I'm gonna take a crap. Have the gold ready for me when I return or I'll leave.\" With that I lurched out into the hallway and went searching for the latrine." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: Little Susie used her last wish from the genie in the bottle to turn the ocean into chocolate milk. Now the UN has an emergency meeting." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Carter covered his mouth with a rag as he jogged into the UN Headquarters. It had only been 36 hours, but already the stench of the East River was unbearable. Fish were beginning to pile up on the banks, and the liquid, whatever it was, was beginning to spoil. It made his daily commute across Long Island and into Midtown a living hell.\n\nHe was late. But in a way, calling this assembly almost two days after the Third Event occurred was late enough as is. They had all been shocked two weeks ago with the marshmallows. That, at least, was local; the government was able to explain it away as a military shipment that was cut loose mid-flight over Green Bay. It was a stretch, but two weeks ago, people just weren’t ready to believe that stuff like that could happen.\n\nAnd the unicorns...well, conspiracists had been spouting that nonsense for years. But people had a hard time believing that a new species of oryx had suddenly begun thriving in North America. They had already eaten their way halfway through the Corn Belt when...well, whatever the hell this is happened.\n\nFinally, Carter burst through the doors to the General Assembly Hall. It was packed. The President of the General Assembly was struggling to get the attention of the delegates, who were shouting and hollering in dozens of languages. Papers were scattered all over the floor, interpreters were yelling into translation microphones, and the delegations from Cuba and Venezuela were in a straight up fist fight. Somehow the desk of the Dutch ambassador had been flipped on its side.\n\n“Silence!” yelled the President. The roar of the room softened. Most of the heads turned to the front of the room. A Russian intern accidently knocked a stack of papers to the floor, causing a few heads to turn the wrong direction.\n\n“Ladies and gentlemen. Obviously this is another...event...only on an unprecedented scale. I cannot speak much about what has occurred here, but perhaps this man can. Doctor, if you please.”\n\nA short man with a loose tie, large glasses and an ill-fitting jacket shuffled up to the podium. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks.\n\n“Thank you Mr. President. As you said, this is an unprecedented event. If I may, the slides?” He fumbled hopelessly with a clicker in his hand, and it took several minutes of muttering and cursing for him and an aide to turn on a projector image of the world’s oceans behind him.\n\n“So far, it seems that the damage has been limited only to the Atlantic, but it is spreading quickly, through rivers, tributaries, with the currents...we expect it to push far into the Pacific within a week.”\n\nThe slides showed a progression of images, each one with a larger stain of brown covering the Pacific Oceans. “Preliminary reports show large amounts of destruction to local sea life, damage to thousands of shipping vessels, and increased levels of salmonella poisoning among beach goers.”\n\nClick.\n\nA picture of dead fish on a shoreline next to a beached oil tanker popped up on the screen.\n\n“This event seemed to occur instantaneously on June 26th, 2016.”\n\nClick.\n\nA picture of a family vacationing on a beach, smiling, in front of crystal blue water.\n\nClick.\n\n“This picture was taken moments later.” The water was suddenly murky brown, the family was pointing, mouths agape, at the ocean.\n\nClick.\n\nA manatee. “Surprisingly, a number of species of sea cow appear to be unaffected.”\n\nThe doctor put his clicker down and took off his glasses to rub his eyes. “Ladies and gentlemen, what we are dealing with here can only be explained when we know what this substance is that has polluted our waters. My technicians have been working around the clock, and I believe we have found the answer.”\n\nHe motioned off to the side, and an assistant ran to the podium with a clear glass full of brown liquid. The doctor took it, holding it up to the assembly in one hand.\n\n“Delegates of the UN, what we have here is pure, unpasteurized emulsion of butterfat globules and cacao.” Unscrewing the cap, he took a swig from the jar. There was an audible gasp from the crowd. The doctor wiped his lips with his sleeve and smacked his lips. “Pure chocolate milk. Delicious.”\n\nThere was a groan from the assembled delegates. People shouted and shook their fists at the doctor, who stepped down from the podium like a hero.\n\nCarter put his head in his hands. It was as if God was a five-year-old girl, and she had unleashed the three pretty ponies of the apocalypse. This would mean years of clean up, paperwork, and not to mention figuring out what actually happened to the goddamned ocean!\n\nThe President resumed his position on the podium. “Order! Order! We are now moving on to the next addendum, establishing a year-long, North American unicorn hunting season…”\n\nEdit: formatting and minor text edits." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: All of the gods that mankind has come up with actually exist, but every year they take turns" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bacchus was late for work. This is the sort of thing that is utterly in character for Bacchus, who is generally the definitional example of undependable. History is littered with people who passed him some drachmas, rubles, or a ten spot and never saw it again.\n\nUnfortunately he’d lost track of time over the last forty years, and was never really the kind of God who kept a calendar anyway.\n\nAnd so, as the ball dropped on January 1, 2021, Bacchus lay drunk and asleep in a sewer. He was, of course, naked. People did not stare, because this was New York, and New Yorkers pride themselves on not reacting to weird shit. And a naked guy in the sewer in twenty degree weather barely gets on their weird radar.\n\nA tourist from Minnesota will, of course, react differently to this situation. This tourist might, hypothetically, walk over to the naked man and ask him if he’s OK.\n\n“I’m fine.” mumbled Bacchus.\n\nJune, a devout Christian and reasonably good person, considered his answer.\n\n“You’re freezing to death.” she said.\n\nHe was, of course, not in any danger of freezing to death. Gods are generally harder to kill, being the ecclesiastical equivalent of cockroaches.\n\n“I’m just taking a nap.” said Bacchus. Gods generally don’t need naps, but as a God of hedonism Bacchus made sure to enjoy the lesser indulgences.\n\nThe native New Yorkers started to pay attention, because while they could generally ignore the homeless it was hard not to be taken in by street theater.\n\n“You smell like piss.” said June.\n\n“S’not mine,” said Bacchus. A fit of honesty took him. “Well, not all mine.”\n\n“Here, take my jacket.” said June, handing Bacchus the sort of sensible coat you get when you cross the state line of Minnesota.\n\nBacchus stood up. More could be said, but there are children present. He took the coat and wrapped it around himself.\n\n“Thanks.” he said. His words slurred. At this point he was not sure if it was a speech impediment or if he was riding a thousand year buzz.\n\n“Can I help you get to a shelter or something?” said June. “No one should suffer. It’s the new year.”\n\n“Wassat?” said Bacchus.\n\n“The New Year. You’re in Times Square. The whole ball drop?” said June.\n\n“What, and this is important, year is it right now?” He asked.\n\n“Two thousand twenty one.” said June.\n\n“Fuck.” said Bacchus.\n\nHe pressed hands against the coat. It wasn’t flattering, but it did cut down on the piss smell. He’d missed it. 2020. The whole damn thing. Zeus and those other fuckers never even came to look for him. Or they did and he was too drunk to notice. Bacchus shook his head.\n\n“Wanna get a drink?” he asked June.\n\n“No. God, no.” said June, more right than she knew.\n\n“Your loss.” said Bacchus. He took a deep breath, shed the coat into the puddle of urine, and headed out to the next open bar he could find." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: (WP) space travelers have reached an end in space." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eight years we have survived here, trapped in the subspace that allowed our ship to slice through the fabric of space like it was no more than endless freshly tilled soil. Eight years our solar sails allowed us to survive off of the ancient light that beamed through the fabric that borders our endless prison cell.\n\nEntire galaxies passed by like a comet would back on earth. Our shipboard scientists spent some time on this conundrum, determining how the light entered subspace and how old it was. The best we could come up with is that we were traveling so fast, that the light was as the universe looked from our current point on the surface space. If we dropped out right now, we would be seeing distant light from before the milky ways existence. Hell, we weren't even sure if light traveled far enough ultimately for us to see the milky way as far as we have gone.\n\nAt times, galaxies burst forth in brilliant blues as we approach, to turn into red hellstorms as we depart eventually snuffing out in the distance.\n\nAnd speaking of hell, we can't get out of subspace either.\n\n8 Years ago, the maiden voyage of the first human FTL craft - the Fortuity. A quick one light year hop, and then back. Back before breakfast, supposedly. Whatever heading that jump took, we have maintained it. We don't know just how fast we have been going, but we do certainly know it is many times the speed of light. To see a galaxy pass the observation in a mere few minutes.\n\nThe last few weeks have been difficult. The ship was designed to be sustainable, with onboard food generation and water a byproduct of our FTL engine. We would have been stupid to perform even a maiden voyage without a full crew compliment. But recently, things have been decaying. Occasional shifts in reality, objects being displaced. Objects appear and disappear, and a few of my crew have been exposed to extreme doses of radiation seemingly from nowhere.\n\nAgain, I roused my shipboard science crew on the problem. All I have received back are worried stares.\n\n\"Captain Rufus...\" the elderly man approached. He was far too old to have been aboard a spaceship, but eight years ago it would have been a helluva retirement bonus.\n\n\"Tomodil, come. I was just lost in thought, do you have anything?\" I asked, trying to be as nice as possible. No point in taking my own angers out on my crew.\n\n\"Well, sir.\" he paused, wringing his hands. I could see he was losing his composure.\n\n\"Take your time\" I offered.\n\n\"Well sir, \" he started again. \"You know how space cannot possibly be truly infinite.\"\n\nI sighed. \"I suppose I do.\"\n\n\"Yes, right. Well, you see sir, captain, we think we are approaching the. Well we think we are approaching the edge of the universe\"\n\nA panic rose deep within me, and I was frozen in place. Tomodil mistook my moment of lost composure for anger.\n\n\"I'm so sorry sir, we don't know what to do. We think that the recent... disturbances are the effects of reaching the edge. Imagine, if you will, it might be easier to picture the universe as an old 32 bit basic computer system for comparison. If you were to generate a grid using your entire 4GB storage address capability you would begin to see... odd and random behaviors. We think we are approaching this... random space. The space outside which the laws of physics have traversed. God in heaven, if we could only send our findings back home. Hell, even what we know about the failure that trapped us here. The thought that the laws of physics travels at the speed of light, within the system at the speed of expansion. We should have known ever since we measured how fast gravity travels. \"\n\n\"Tomodil, come back to me.\" I said, cutting off his manic rambling. \"You mentioned sending information back home. Could we do it?\"\n\n\"Well, yes and no. We could absolutely send a packet back through subspace, however we have the benefit of our displacement engine. The packet itself would only travel at light speed, it could be billions of years. Hell, the universe could end before it got back to earth.\"\n\nA wave of distorted light passed through the observation deck, a ghostly rip in spacetime. It was the third such wave in an hour. The experience had increased a hundred fold in the last day, and that only indicated to Rufus that time was running out.\n\n\"Do you have an estimate for how much longer we have with... sustainable physics?\"\n\n\"No sir, well, yes sir. We think we have about another day at our current estimated speed.\"\n\n\"Which is?\" I asked, focusing on the non lethal information.\n\n\"By our current estimate, 2 million light years per second. It could be off by orders of magnitude in either direction, but we seem to consistently pass even very large galaxies in seconds.\"\n\nI paused to pretend to take that number in, but it meant nothing to me. I had already sunken into a deep depression, and with all chance of a communication reaching home vanquished - I succumbed to its depths.\n\n\"I am not sure what I am more afraid of, \" I Began. \"That we experience these continued ghostly assaults, or that the laws of attraction fail. What is more humane, to be ripped apart molecularly - or to watch the lights fade?\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: As a submissive rope bunny, you seemed to have found your soulmate in the most unorthodox way…" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He was so sweet to be helping you move. Leaving it late to two nights before you moved out was... Unwise, but hey, you're not exactly a pillar of maturity.\n\nBut that's when Daniel shined as the mature, reliable, (handsome) friend you needed. 5'11 with a bearish, well trimmed beard you felt secure around him.\n\nThough at this very moment, maybe a little too secure. \"Owwww, uhh~ oh god\". You bite down on your right forearm hoping to stifle your moans as your left arm gets tangled in the jute rope Daniel is using to tie down your shit onto the back of his truck in your garage. Your wrist is firmly caught between your mattress and the jute Daniel adeptly tying off. You twirl to press your back against the side of the truck, and desperately wonder how long you can draw out these teasing pleasure before you say something.\n\nSee, you're a rope bunny. A hot, horny little sub that likes your men to tie you up and play. You've always wanted Daniel's face between your tied up legs, and the sight of him gripping and organising the jute rope he found in your bedroom was turning you the fuck on.\n\nBut you're not naturally bratty (you've tried for some previous friends with benefits - it's not for you), and you're a little meek yourself. So you haven't been forthcoming about why that rope was in your bedroom, why some sections were a little stained, and why you knew the exact tensile strength of the aforementioned rope. You should stop thinking about that and say something to him before this gets weird...\n\n...and you should definitely take your hand out of your jeans you desperate, sex deprived nympho. You're slipped on the ground and loving this.\n\n\"Uh, are you okay?\" came Daniel's concerned voice.\n\nYou stammered through a quick succession of \"yup, yes, nope all good!\".\n\nYou slipped your hand out of jute and came to your senses. You need a good fuckbudy stat and most frustratingly Dan would be your exact type.. but you've had one too many shit partners or shit riggers. You slump fully and brood on how unfair it is.\n\n\"Oh, sweetie are you okay?\" Daniel had walked over to your side of the truck after hearing the whimpers and slump.\n\n\"I'm fucking blue ballsed Daniel. I haven't had a good fuck in weeks, maybe months. And moving to the other side of the city isn't exactly going to do wonders for my sex life.\"\n\nDaniel started to chuckle to himself as he walked over to console his sad, horny friend.\n\n\"I want what you and your partners have Dan! You always seem...\"\n\nGrinning, dan picked up on the trailing thought: \"Seem what?\"\n\n\"Well, you know..\" you blushed pink as his dominating figure towered over you, before crouching down to your level. God, his scent was.. hypnotic. Like crushed leaves and fresh ash. His hands reached out to trace the still-red halo from your little flirt with the jute.\n\n\"And what would you know about my lovers and partners, hmm? And naughty girl, you should know it's dangerous to cut off circulation like that.\"\n\nHe reached up to grab the loose end of rope coiled on-top of the mattress on the truck. As he reached, you spy his shirt lifting from his pants... Salivating over every ridge and muscle darting down from his abs into the V of his.. pelvis...\n\nHe dropped back down and pulled your hand close towards his chest.\n\n\"You should only ever play with supportive binds like -\" Dan gently fiddled a knot around your wrist. \" - this.\"\n\nStroking your wrist and tracing your fingers he continued.\n\n\"This is much more supportive, and far better because you can tie someone down much tighter without harming them. This is the sort of knot I do for my partner...\"\n\nTurning your forearm to face up, his traced the soft skin with his fingers.\n\n\"..if I had a partner right now. I take it you don't have one?\"\n\nIt was almost too cute how excitedly you squeaked out that no.\n\n\"So no one would get jealous if I were to, tie your wrist up like this?\" With another 3 loops he had your wrist slowly being pulled up to be frozen against your mattress. You're usually a \"sexy dungeon aesthetic\" and not a \"dingey, rustic garage aesthetic\" but the idea of him tying you up right here is getting your little heart racing.\n\nDaniel turned to note the ceiling, then proceeded to stand you up, loop around your wrist and toss the jute up through a structural bar on the roof.\n\nWith another tug and your arms begin to splay in opposite direction, one above and one below.\n\nMore rope swept your legs into wide stance and you stand isolated and still on the concrete floor.\n\n\"I didn't know you were into rigging like this Dan, holy shit~\"\n\n\"This is a little more barebones than I like but I'm sure we'll be able to sort out that your.. blue-balls did you say?\"\n\nHis hand cupped her ribs under your raised arm, and gently caressed down your side, across your thigh and tracing just barely over the inner thighs of your jeans.\n\n\"I usually like to tease through clothes but I doubt you'll feel anything through these. Let me help you.\n\nThree lashes of rope coiled around both legs until - like a snake constricting the slutty out out of you - the rope had decorated your legs and hips.\n\nDaniel walked over to the garage bench, and rustled through a few loose tools. He inspected a few (he's quite the performer), and settle on a pair of red, metal scissors.\n\nHe walked over to your immobilesed body and pulled at your jeans. With grace, he used the scissors to make quick work of your pants, cutting out a tantalising gape by removing the crouch and ass of your jeans.\n\n\"Why don't you tell me what you were picturing, tied and playing with your pussy earlier? Was it me? Or do you want me to give you new ideas of how naughty we can be? 😘\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: The U.S./NATO and Russia go to war with each other. The Russians order cosmonauts aboard the International Space Station to take it over by any means necessary." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Are you fracking kidding me Andrews? You wanna tell me that one more time?” the man from mission control shook with anger and spit a bit on the camera.\n\nIf Commander Erwin Andrews squirmed like a kid holding in his piss it’s because he hadn’t taken a leak since 0400 GMT and that was cut short by the sound of the oxygen alarms going off all over the station. Nothing worse than cutting short a good leak, well, except when your cosmonaut buddies decide to mutiny and seize control of your “international” space station by asphyxiating you in your sleep.\n\nThey just hadn’t counted on Andrews wanting to empty the lizard at the same time. He knew tensions on the ground were high since the Federation decided that all of the Russian diaspora in Ukraine, Moldova, the Baltic countries, and central asia needed to be “rescued” from their oppressive and discriminatory host countries. He always called them “The Federation” ever since he saw the Roscosmos logo and determined it looked like the communicator pin from Star Trek: The Next Generation. If things had been normal he would have thought a micrometeor impacted the station but a quick look through the porthole through the Zarya module into Zvezda showed Lt. Commander Bulgakov hunched over the main shutoff valve. That cinched it for him. He sealed the bulkhead between Zarya and Unity. They hadn’t expected that.\n\nTurns out Bulgakov had been a bit slow. His fellow Russians were supposed to have been in Destiny by now, seizing control of that module and shutting off the rest of the ship from critical systems. Instead Andrews now had control of three-quarters of the station. The bad news was that the Zvezda module had all the critical systems: Navigation, Maneuvering, and importantly, Life Support. The three Americans, two Canadians, and one Indian were living on borrowed time. Even with backup life support in the Destiny module they would be dead in two days. He had to gamble.\n\nThe Russians hoped that they would have slipped silently into oxygen deprived sleep. They had, immediately following Andrews locking of Unity, hoped for the same outcome. Andrews forced them to the bargaining table by threatening to eject the Leonardo cargo bay module and send it through both of the Russians remaining solar arrays, then decouple the station. One side without power, one side without air, both very dead.\n\nBulgakov had a good natured laugh when Andrews told him his threat. He chuckled, motioned for Turgenev to turn the air back on, and then said something about how Mutually Assured Destruction apparently worked in space as well. He then got quiet, almost conspiratorial.\n\n“Andrews” he said, “‘Dis station is not big enough for both of us, eh? If we try to share who is to say that one day you don’t try to cut air off to my men?”\n\n“Or power to mine” Andrews shot back. “What do you have in mind?”\n\nBulgakov leaned into the camera bit more, his face filling the fisheye lense. “Would you like to play a game? Winner stays and loser, well, they take the Soyuz back down”.\n\nIt really was the only alternative that did not end with dead spacemen, so he agreed. The game choice was a classic and, coincidently, is what made the mission control man so mad right now.\n\n“...tell me that one more time! Why the hell did you challenge that Russki to CHESS!”\n\nAndrews wished he had a remote wiper feature on the mission control camera, there was so much spit covering the lense but the man just continued.\n\n“Holy cannoli man, Chess? Seriously? He’s Russian, you know this right? You better not lose you little turd because if you come back down to Earth they are liable to make you a general and, knowing you, you’ll either invade the Russkis in the winter or get us involved in a land war in Asia. Hell, you’ll probably do both at the same time and tell us to invade Vladivostok on Christmas day. Heaven help us. I’m going to tell the night crew to just go the hell home because we just lost the gosh darn station.” He finished by flinging a pile of papers at the camera and walking away. The papers helped to clean the camera bit.\n\nHe really didn’t know why he chose chess. It just seemed like the first game to come to mind. What do civilized people play? Chess. Now, he sat across from a smiling Bulgakov with his king in his hand and nowhere to move. The Russian man’s smile grew as he surveyed the board.\n\n“Vas good try Commander. Now, if you please, the Soyuz capsule is waiting”. The Russian reached over and patted him on the shoulder. \"Look, maybe in few months, or year, our governments friends again and you can come up and visit. Ok, time to go. Bye-bye\".\n\nAs the capsule moved away from the station he couldn't help but think that this wasn't supposed to happen. That America was supposed to win. He looked out the porthole and looked at the station. They had won it fair and square. No one died and he had to accept the outcome of the game. As he hung his head to cry his radio crackled and out came the voice of mission control man.\n\n\"Andrews, you asshat, are you clear of the station?\"\n\n“Yes sir” he answered, tired of hearing this man’s voice.\n\n“That’s a pity.” Came the reply. “If you were better at chess maybe you’d still be on board to enjoy the show.” the man laughed.\n\nAndrews looked out the porthole just in time to see a small object, no bigger than a football, detonate under the station. A moment later the shrapnel from the blast tore through all but the most heavily shielded parts and scattering those out into space. Twenty five years of work, gone.\n\nHe was angry. “Why! Why did you do that! They won fair and square!” He screamed into the microphone.\n\nThe mission control man came back on, no longer laughing. “Fair? You want fair you tell that to the boys digging trenches in Estonia. You want fair, you tell that to the crying children whose parents are burning alive in Eastern Poland or the poor bastards in Philadelphia digging themselves out from under hundred cruise missile strikes. Ain't nothing fair in war son. They wanted a taste of Armageddon, well, we’re going to serve them up a whole feast!”\n\nAndrews started to cry." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: \"... if you cannot afford a lawyer, three chances to roll doubles will be provided for you.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They'll write books about me.\n\nI started with nothing.\n\nI guess that isn't totally true, I had about 1500 bucks in my pocket and my top hat when I struck out on my own.\n\nI bought my first property on Vermont Ave. Quaint place; it wasn't much, but it was mine. Grinding my way through life, I couldn't catch a break. These assholes, who get's a fucking bank error in their favour? The other day I saw in the news paper so guy won $500 bucks in a beauty contest. What are the chances?\n\nNot your old pal on Vermont though. Any money I earned went into paying rent when I was travelling trying to make it big or taxes. It is remarkable what they consider a luxury. My only luxury was that I was breathing.\n\nThat was until one day I found a few hundred in a free parking lot. That was my big break.\n\nI took my new cash, mortgaged my place on Vermont and invested in the ol' Iron Horse. Started with a Shortline, then bought up the Baltimore/Ohio Line. When I bought Reading, I got married. Pinch me, I wore that old top hat of mine to the wedding.\n\nMy wife grew up on West Connecticut Ave. My old place on Vermont, her childhood home on Connecticut, what a perfect wedding gift? I bought up both Connecticut and Oriental.\n\nThe railroad business was basically running itself on this part, and my wife craved more. I needed to look elsewhere to get some cash. That's when I started TopHat REIT.\n\nI had a few competitors at the start. RC Properties, Terrier Real Estate and Battle Ship Developments. It was pretty cutthroat. Each us developing a few housing blocks, some even did some medium density stuff.\n\nTerrier even built a hotel on Boardwalk. Great location but we all knew he couldn't afford it.\n\nI didn't know how over extended he was until he defaulted on leasing a few houses from me in The Gardens. He had to sell off all his developments, and in lieu of cash TopHat took over their remaining properties.\n\nIt wasn't long until a similar thing happened with RC too.\n\nBy this time TopHat was huge. We had a 12 hotels and more houses than I knew about.\n\nI was king of the world. My wife and I were so happy.\n\nBut all good things come to an end, and here I am in this cell.\n\nNo visitors.\n\nNot allowed to go.\n\nAfter we took over RC, we took over all their assets, including the Penn rail line.\n\nIt was a stupid mistake on our part, purely a backroom organizational issue. But I was at the top, so I took the heat.\n\nWe got so big anti-trust laws being what they are took aim at our conglomerate and we were found in contravention of a number of regulations and laws. And here I am.\n\nArm's behind my back, cuffed. The CEO of Top Hat, the richest guy in town taken down for a monopoly. I guess everyone likes a good downfall story.\n\nThe cop had a particular distain in his voice when he said those words. How they stung.\n\nThey seized all my assets. I didn't even have 50 bucks to spare.\n\n\"If you cannot afford a lawyer, three chances to roll double will be provided for you\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1200-1300 words. Prompt: Just as you sit down for dinner with your family, the Emergency Alert System goes off saying a nuclear attack is under way. You only have 10 minutes and death is unavoidable." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "My wife looked at me nervously from across the dinner table her face was as white as snow. I chewed my bread and watched as my two little girls fussed about the vegetables. They were young, too young to understand the message and went on with one another oblivious to what we had just heard.\n\n\"Sarah put her peas on my plate\"! Nancy cried.\n\nSarah shook her head violently, her piggy tails swishing from side to side. \"No I did not... mom gave you extra.\" she said with a grin.\n\nThe warning from the TV sounded again and my wife stood up like a bolt and quickly stormed into the living room and shut off the TV. I could see her face was sweating as she reached for her mobile phone. She glanced at me nervously as I leaned back in my chair and contemplated the gravity of the situation.\n\n\"Maybe it's wrong.\" my wife said, pulling up her facebook feed. \"Maybe its a prank?\"\n\nI nodded. \"Perhaps, but just in case ... can you grab the bible and bring it here?\" I asked.\n\nShe nodded and left me with my girls for a moment. I watched them quibble, like siblings often do and I smiled. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen and that was the universe.\n\nI looked at them and smiled. \"Now, now girls. It's OK, we don't have to eat our peas or fight anymore. I want to do something different tonight.\"\n\nThey both stopped bickering and looked at me, slightly confused. We had always had dinner in the same fashion for as long as we could remember. Around the dinner table talking about daily things and eating dinner together. We couldn't do it every night but we had tried. It suddenly felt as if we hadn't done it enough.\n\n\"I want to do something different tonight girls. I want to read some stories. Your mum will dish up some dessert now.\"\n\n\"I don't have to finish my peas?\" Sarah asked.\n\n\"No, not tonight.\" I said with a smile. Just then my wife returned from the study with the bible in her hands.\n\nShe had heard me from the study and shook her head disapprovingly. \"They should eat dinner.\" she said shooting me a glance.\n\nI stood up and grabbed my wife holding her close to me, hugging her with my arms. \"It's ok tonight dear... just this once. Did I ever tell you how much I love you? I don't know if I mentioned it today.\"\n\n\"Of course you did... you always do.\" she said, her voice quivering.\n\n\"Well I love you woman, and my girls. They are the shine in my eye. Both of you girls, are the most important thing I have ever done in this life. I am grateful for each of you, so thankful that God let me spend my life with you.\"\n\nI held my wife close and I smelled her. Her fearful eyes turned to a smile, like they had done a thousand times before. She held me tightly for a second and pushed me away.\n\n\"I will get the ice cream.\" she said.\n\nBoth of the girls let out a \"hooray!\" and I laughed, sitting back to my seat.\n\nI knew if it was true, the whole of the world could be in pandemonium. But I had realized that none of it had mattered, it was all beyond us anyways. No point in being mad, or placing blame or trying to hide under a chair. All we had were just a few a few fleeting moments. If multiple ICBM missiles were coming, they were somewhere in the high atmosphere, breaking apart and splitting out certain death.\n\nSarah looked at me excited. \"Why do you have a bible daddy?\"\n\n\"Well... it's.... its fun to read together as a family. We don't do this enough. I think it's time we read a little bit.\"\n\nI could hear my wife in the kitchen, the bowls clinking. \"What will you read?\"\n\nI smiled. \"I Corinthians 13, the love chapter\"\n\nMy wife nodded and the girls pushed away half eaten dinner plates. I could hear the ambulances and sirens in the distance. The dogs began barking in the backyard. I looked at Sarah.\n\n\"Open the backdoor, let them in. Let them be with us.\"\n\nThe young girl smiled at me and went running right away. She opened the door and two fluffy white eskimo dogs stormed into the dining room, happy and yapping. I took steak off my plate and broke it up, handing them small bits of tender meat. They seem to smile at me, blissfully unaware that we might all be facing the unspeakable end.\n\nMy wife returned to the table with the ice cream and the girls cheered again. I scooted us around together, as close as we could be and my wife sat next to me as I opened the Bible and I leafed through it's pages.\n\n\"Ok, let read a little bit ok? It's good stuff I promise.\" I said with a smile. \"No matter what happens, this will be good and true.... just like it always has been.\"\n\nI could hear my wife fighting back tears, the dogs sniffing at my feet. My girls clinking spoon and bowl as the world outside ended. Just like the chaos of the universe had begun, it was seemingly coming to an end the same way. With a big bang. I coughed, fighting back my own tears of sorrow and joy and began to read out loud.\n\nI Corinthians 13, the love chapter\n\nAnd now I will show you the most excellent way.\n\nIf I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.\n\nLove is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.\n\nLove never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears.\n\nWhen I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.\n\nAnd now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You wake up to the sound of a voice actor narrating your (up to now) banal life. It seems only you can hear him. Until today. The girl on the train looks at you, wide eyed. \"You... you can hear him as well?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jimmy stared back at the wide-eyed girl, his lips parted and the words eluding him. This was a new experience to Jimmy, not only had he never before come across another person who could hear the narrator's voice, but the girl in question was notably attractive, a trait that served to fluster our Jimmy.\n\nYes, the girl could hear me, and so she blushed and smiled as Jimmy tried to explain himself. The rest of the passangers aboard the train didn't seem to notice this exchange, motionless figures that went about their daily lives with gadgets in-hand and their gaze lost within them.\n\nJimmy seemed to relent, unable to speak any words. Instead, he opted for a nod, acknowledging that this was still a motion he could muster unlike his hampered speech.\n\nIt was upon the next stop that the girl grabbed Jimmy by his hand, dragging him out into the station. She seemed determined, perhaps thinking that our protagonist would have the answers she sought.\n\nIt was at a vending machine when the girl bought him a packet of juice, and he stuck his straw in accordingly, for what kind of person would refuse the gesture?\n\n\"He is kind of annoying.\" She finally said.\n\n\"Tell me about it.\" The words slipped from Jimmy's tongue, finding whatever shock it was that knotted his speech was now loosened, and his tongue ebbed and bent to Jimmy's will, voicing whatever it was that he thought of.\n\n\"My name is Clarice.\" The girl said, her hand outstretched.\n\nJimmy stared at it for a second, seemingly unsure what to do with it, before he finally stretched out his own hand and shook it as well.\n\n\"Jimmy.\"\n\n\"Nice to meet you, Jimmy.\"\n\n\"Yeah, nice to meet you too.\"\n\nThey walked. Talking about their mundane and circular lives, talking about what the voice of their narrator could be. Exchanging their own impressions of the narrator, mocking him and finding humor in that shared experience.\n\nAnd so they walked, walked for hours.\n\n\"Don't you have somewhere to be?\" Jimmy asked.\n\nClarice shook her head. \"No.\" It was a strange idea to Jimmy, who leaves the comfort of their home nowadays unless they are on their way to some place? Yet as he pondered this, he found that he wasn't sure of where he was going either. With a shake of his head he rid himself of his frown and decided to simply enjoy the evening.\n\nThey walked to the beach, the sun now dipping into the ocean waters and what was originally a bright and blinding light dimmed to a tranquil orange.\n\nThey sat upon a bench and watched its descent, if they could still hear my voice, they certainly showed no sign of it. Perhaps it had turned into white noise for them, a constant hum that was drowned out.\n\n\"Will I see you tomorrow?\"\n\nJimmy shrugged, unsure of why he didn’t say yes. He certainly enjoyed her company and would have loved to see her again.\n\n\"Yeah, I don't know either.\" Clarice responded. \"But the sunset is beautiful, I wish it would never end.\"\n\nClarice wrapped her fingers around Jimmy's hand, a strange gesture. They barely knew each other, he had made no impressionable move and yet still she acted with such close proximity that it seemed unusual.\n\nJimmy looked down at Clarice's eyes, and found a somber hurt in them accompanied by a sullen smile.\n\nHe understood then, he understood what was happening.\n\nHe did not voice it, however, for they both knew, and speaking those words would do nothing to change it.\n\nSo instead, he looked out into the setting sun and folded his own hand in hers, not because he was smitten nor because this is some wistful romantic story, but because he understood her in the most raw of ways.\n\nHe understood that they weren't real.\n\nA tear rolled down Jimmy's eyes as he continued to watch the sun's descent, sure that by the time it was gone, they too would disappear.\n\nHere I am, the narrator, giving shape to these two characters, but you, the reader, are giving them life. Acknowledging their existence through the gift of your imagination.\n\nJimmy understood now; finding it took him long enough. He isn't real, he is just words on a page as much as Clarice had been. They both felt the dread, the pain, they wanted to live, to continue existing.\n\nAs the last of the sun disappeared from sight, so too, do these words come to an end.\n\nBoth, Clarice and Jimmy, knew that when the last letter was read and the words had ceased, they too would cease to exist." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: You made a deal with Death. She's on vacation and you work in her place for a year." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I was on the subway when I got the first text message of the day. The funeral dirge ringtone assigned to these messages got me a disapproving look from the woman sitting next to me. The message said \"Albert Potter, 86, Heart Attack, Mass General.\" Looks like I wasn't going to make it the New England Aquariam today. There was a certain fat seal that I had been meaning to schedule an appointment with but that would have to wait.\n\nI stayed on the MBTA's Orange Line past my intended stop and got on the red line at Downtown instead. Another short subway ride and another text message \"09:23 AM\". I stepped off the train at the Charles station and walked the rest of the way to the hospital, entering the lobby at 9:20. The funeral dirge on my phone sounded again, this time telling me room 317. As the ringtone sounded the receptionist gave me a harsh look and opened her mouth to speak but I didn't really have time to spend explaining why I was visiting today.\n\nI opened the clock app on my smartphone and tapped the time, pausing it and the world around me. Everything in the world froze except me and one old man in room 317. I had been by here plenty of times, a couple even before I had gotten this job. I made way up the stairs and past a few frozen nurses and doctors. As I got near my clients room the frozen people took on a more frantic appearance, some caught mid run, responding to Mr. Potter. I stepped inside the hospital room, it's one window providing light to a single plant on the windowsill, the anchors of FOX news frozen on the television and a confused man looking from the frozen medical staff then to me.\n\n\"You're not frozen like everyone else?\" He asked, suspiciously.\n\n\"No sir, I am not.\" I tell him, standing beside the bed.\n\n\"What is going on here? One second my chest hurt, and this damn thing was beeping and everyone was running, then it all stopped.\" Mr. Potter says. I take a seat on the edge of his bed.\n\n\"Mr. Potter, you are currently experiencing a heart attack. When time picks back up you are going to die. I am sorry to be blunt but that is the simple truth of the matter. I am here to try and make things as easy as I can for you. I am here to help you pass along to the other side.\"\n\nHe looks at me skeptically at first, but he doesn't resist the idea for long before asking bitterly, \"You're Death? Aren't you supposed to be a skeleton in a robe?\"\n\n\"Times have changed I guess? I've only been doing this job since last November, so I don't know how they used to dress. I was just told to wear a suit.\"\n\n\"So.. what happens now?\" He asks in a small voice.\n\n\"Really I'm just going to sit here until you're ready. Time's not going anywhere so however long you need to get comfortable.\" I tell him.\n\nWe sit in silence for a bit after that. And after that he starts to deny it. He calls me a fraud, and insists this is some cruel joke from his family. I explain it to him again that it isn't and he gets angry but anger doesn't last nearly as long and he doesn't even try to bargain with me. Instead he skips into depression and gets quiet again. The quiet lasts quite awhile before he eventually talks.\n\n\"I really wish I would've gotten to see my son again.\" He starts, choking up. He goes on to explain his estrangement with his son, starting with alcoholism and being an abusive father and husband after the Korean War, the divorce, giving up the alcohol, finding faith, and eventually moving to try and reconnect with his son.\n\nHe goes on past that, to the things he wish he would have done differently, the women he had loved and the friends he had made in Korea. He talks for what must've been hours before he eventually runs out of things to say except one.\n\n\"I think I'm ready.\" He says calmly. I stand up, and offer a handshake that he accepts. \"Good-bye Mr. Potter.\"\n\nI tap the screen on the phone and the world springs back into life. Albert Potter's heart monitor continues the tone for an unresponisve hook-up, doctors and nurses rush into the room, oblivious to my presence. The world continues moving and I get another message, this time for a woman overdosed on heroine. And after that one a fisherman that fell into the sea. A man struck by a car bicycling home from work. A couple in a car accident.\n\nTowards the late afternoon my phone rings, this time a call instead of a message. \"Hello?\"\n\n\"Hey it's Catherine, I just got back from Nepal. Want to swing by my place later so we can discuss how you've done? I'm frying up some salmon steaks, too.\" Death asks me. \"Sure, I'll be there around 5:30.\"\n\nI hang up my phone and get back on the subway. A text message comes in. \"Catherine Azarova, 252, chokes on fishbone.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Since you were little you've always had your \"Big Brother\" watching over you. He's not your real brother, in fact nobody seems to know he exist, but he has always been your best friend and mentor to you. Also, judging by the crater where your shitty school once was he's a overprotective demigod" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“What is the meaning of this?” The principal paced behind his desk glaring at William’s puffy red eyes.\n\n“I-..I’m sorry, I- I was tired of being made fun of...” William sputtered between sobs.\n\n“A fifteen year old should be able to handle their emotions. A teacher poking fun isn’t that bad, you need to stay in the classroom until dismissal. If you run out again their will be additional consequences now get out of my sight.” The principal say at his desk and waved his hand in dismissal.\n\nJames stood up and began to walk out of the office as the bell rang for his next class. He couldn’t bear it anymore though, consequences be damned. He turned right after leaving the office and walked out the front door. No one noticed and if they did they didn’t care.\n\nHe followed his familiar path to the park where he had met Kevin. Kevin was a full punk rocker, he had a green Mohawk, usually sporting a tank top or flannel revealing masses of tattoos on any exposed skin, his skinny jeans and combat boots finished out his ensemble.\n\n“Bro bro how you livin?” Kevin shouted as he jumped from the tree he was perched on.\n\nAs William got closer Kevin could see the tears streaming down his face.\n\n“Little bro what happened? Who did this? Was it some jerk at school? I told you we could go take care of it together.” Kevin cracked his knuckles looking towards the direction of the school.\n\n“It was my teacher Kev, it’s why I couldn’t bear it. My classmates don’t bother me anymore I’m the weird kid with an imaginary best friend so they just avoid me. My teacher got wind of it and made it way worse today.” William stared nervously at his boots. “What can I do dude?”\n\nKevin contemplated for a moment, this was his job after all. “What did your teacher say and do exactly?”\n\nWilliam winced as he contemplated how to tell his story again. “I went to school like I always do and things went as usual. I went in didn’t talk to anyone and went to classes. Then I got to history Mr. Whitmer’s class, and he was in a good mood today. The lesson started and he pulled out sock puppets to start making jokes about the lesson. Then he turned his attention to me with his sock puppets. I guess someone told him about you and I being friends because he started making fun of me.”\n\nKevin had been nodding along, he put his hand on Williams shoulder. “It’s okay, you’re away from there now. What did he say?”\n\nWilliams tears turned to sobs again, “He said ‘Of course the orphan has an imaginary friend his parents were probably schizophrenic drug addicts.’”\n\nKevin’s eyes flared with a golden energy as he held William in his arms. He let him cry for a while before pulling him back to look in his eyes.\n\n“Will, you know that’s not true. Your parents, they loved you so much they sent me to look after you. I’m sorry this has brought you so much pain. I’ll take care of this this time. Go home and enjoy your day, eat lunch and get a game started. I’ll meet you there in a bit.”\n\nWilliam wiped the tears away with the back of his hand. “What are you going to do?”\n\nKevin helped him up then started walking him towards his house. “I’ll take care of it. You don’t have any problems with the school across town do you?”\n\nThanks for reading! Sorry for formatting on mobile" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: The devil appeared before you and your spouse, appearing in a storm of smoke and fire. Your spouse just looks him right in the eyes. \"I told you once, I'm telling you again, and I'll tell you a hundred !@#$ing times: I'm the best there's ever been, and you're never going to beat me!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I wasn't used to seeing smoke come from the kitchen. Ellen didn't burn food and no one has overdone popcorn in the microwave since the kids moved out. I was breathing heavy by the time I got there from the garage, extinguisher in hand. What was actually in the kitchen was far more unexpected.\n\nIt was Satan. Actual hooved, horned, Satan. Flames at his feet, smelling of Brimstone. As in, from Hell.\n\nAnd I don't mean Ohio.\n\nEllen was there, too, though and she didn't look surprised at all.\n\n\"Back to get beat again, huh?\" She said, blowing a strand of hair out of her face, hands on her hips, wearing a flour spattered apron.\n\n\"Oh, confident are you! Well, the Lord of Darkness will show you your folly mortal!\"\n\n\"I told you once, I'm telling you again, and I'm tell you a hundred darn times if I have to... I'm the best that's ever been and you're never going to beat me, okay?\"\n\n\"No. Not okay. Not at all. Stand aside, spawn of Eve!\"\n\nMy wife, my sweet wife who plays bingo on Thursdays and who stops after half a glass of wine to avoid getting \"all crazy\", stepped aside gave The Prince of Darkness room to use our stand mixer.\n\nThat's when she saw me.\n\n\"Oh, Stan, I'm sorry. I really wasn't expecting this today.\"\n\n\"You expect it other days?\"\n\n\"Well it's not like it's the first time. You're usually at the office.\"\n\n\"Wait, how many times has Satan appeared in our kitchen... and used all our eggs?\"\n\nAs I talked to her, he was cracking a fourth one into the bowl.\n\n\"It's just this little thing we have going on. I swear he's more jealous of my bakig than Grace down at St. Catherines.\"\n\n\"Huh... wait... Satan is jealous of your cookies?\"\n\n\"Oh, you betcha. Has been since I was in college.\"\n\n\"When did you meet Satan in college?\"\n\n\"Blind date. My roomie set me up. But nevermind dear, that was months before I met you. Now let me handle this. He's really a sore loser. Take a seat over there.\"\n\nSlack jawed, I did as she asked and got into the chair we keep in the corner so that she has something to sit on when she peels potatoes in here. I put the extinguisher in my lap and just held on because I didn't know where this ride was going.\n\nSatan pulled things out of mid air, little vials and jars that he dumped into the mixer. One little black bottle he snickered at when he put three drops into the mix. He then used one of our ice cream scoops to portion out the dough onto a cookie sheet. He didn't bother with the oven, just passed his hand over them and they all baked.\n\nHe blew on them and they seemed to set.\n\n\"Ha, top that Ellen! Cowboy Cookies, using three thousand year old honey, vanilla extract I made myself, and baked with hellfire! Have one!\"\n\nEllen raised an eyebrow and went over, picked up a cookie, and took a dainty bite. Her eyes got big and her brows went halfway up her forehead. She looked at the cookie with surprise, nodding in admiration.\n\n\"Oh, Lucy, you outdid yerself there, kiddo. But I think you should quit now.\"\n\n\"Oh, why? Got some Lebkuchen in the pantry? Some of those peanut butter blossoms? Bring your finest, apple biter! I'll stand these up against the very best you've got.\"\n\n\"Okie dokie.\"\n\nShe went to the kitchen table. I knew she was making cookies for the school bake sale today, but I didn't know what kind. When she pulled off the lid, I got scared down to my socks.\n\nSatan laughed.\n\n\"Sugar cookies! You actually are countering the finest snacks in Hell or Heaven with sugar cookies?\"\n\n\"My mom's own secret recipe. Have one.\"\n\nSatan snatched up one like she said and took a strong bite, half the cookie disappearing into his fanged filled mouth. I watched him chew. Then chew again. Then stop. Then chew some more. Then I saw a tear in his eye.\n\nThe Lord of Hell fell on our linoleum tile and started pounding his fists and crying like a baby, \"Sublime! So, sublime! And balanced! This is what sugar cookies should be! Jesu.... no, not going there.\"\n\nHe apparently snapped himself back into focus because he got up and said to her, \"I admit it... you win again. But don't think I won't be cooking up something to spell your damnation!\"\n\n\"I see what you did there with the little pun. It's okay, Lucy. You take care.\"\n\nSatan snorted. The floor cracked. I heard screams like I could never adequately describe and the light of a thousand soul-fueled bonfires lit him from underneath as he sank into back down to the Inferno. He raised his arm when his head disappeared out of sight and made a rude gesture at Ellen. She shook her head as the crack sealed back up.\n\n\"Well, that put a crimp in the day. I don't think I'll have time to take a shower before we go.\"\n\n\"Ellen... I have quest-\"\n\nShe swooped up to me and put a finger on my lips. She had the most wicked gleam in her eye, the one that made me marry her twenty years ago.\n\nShe just said, \"Shhhh. Just let it go, Stan. A girl's got to keep some of her secrets.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: The Galaxy's changed alot since Humans became involved yet one thing has never changed with these bipedal creatures. Their insatiable curiosity to pet everything and anything in existence that they encounter. It's their defining feature." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gri'lax held the scanner out, using it to take readings of everything around. His human assistant, Janet, worked the sample collector. The mechanical device's metal arms snipped and clipped at her command, gathering tiny bits of native flora.\n\nHe just hoped she would be able to keep her mind on the job. The human, like all members of the strange bipedal species, had a habit of getting distracted.\n\nGri'lax continued to move slowly, his scanner letting out a low hum as it worked to gather information that would be vital to later physical analysis. Suddenly, he froze.\n\nThere was something in front of them. A local species had come into view. It was a small creature, covered with fine hairs that looked like it would blend in quite well with the surroundings. He froze. The animal did the same. The two looked at each other.\n\n\"Hey, Gri, what's...\" Janet said, coming up behind him. Her eyes opened wide, easily visible behind the clear material of her enviro-suit.\n\n\"Janet, don't do it.\" Gri'lax said. \"Don't you dare.\"\n\n\"But...but look at it.\" She said quietly. \"It's so fluffy.\"\n\n\"We don't know if it's dangerous. It could be toxic. Or it could be a juvenile with a highly protective, and much larger, parent.\"\n\n\"Aw, but just look at it. It's so cute!\"\n\nHe would never understand the human's sense of aesthetics. It seemed almost random. He was about to say something, but Janet was already moving.\n\nShe had gotten down on her hands and knees and was crawling slowly towards the animal. It bristled, the hairs along its body standing up. Janet froze, one hand hovering above the ground.\n\nThen she slowly extended the hand, one finger pointed out. The animal did not seem to know what to do about that. Its nose twitched, and it took a step towards Janet.\n\n\"Janet, don't do it.\" Gri'lax said, knowing it would be a futile effort.\n\nThe animal closed in, sniffing Janet's outstretched finger. Then she moved. It was a slow motion as her finger touched the animal. Then she began doing what all humans did when confronted with a small, furry animal. She began to pet it.\n\nThe animal seemed confused by what was happening as first her finger, then her entire hand, began gently running along its back. Then it seemed to make up its mind. It moved closer and let out a small series of squeaks and trills.\n\n\"Janet...\"\n\n\"It's fine, Gri. See, he likes it.\"\n\nThe animal did seem to be enjoying itself. It snuggled up close to Janet, rolling its back as she pet it while it continued to make sounds.\n\nSuddenly, some of the vegetation started to shake. Gri'lax reached for his sidearm, just in case whatever it was proved hostile. A small, fuzzy head poked out. Another member of the species Janet was petting. And then another showed itself nearby. And another, and another.\n\nWhen they stopped, there were almost two dozen of the creatures. All of them gathered around Janet, who was sitting on her knees.\n\n\"Uh, Janet...this could be bad.\"\n\n\"Gri, the only thing bad about this situation is that I only have two hands.\" Janet said with a huge smile on her face.\n\nShe looked in absolute bliss as she pet them two at a time. Somehow, the animals organized themselves into lines, each one getting attention from the human woman.\n\n\"This is going to take awhile, isn't it?\"Gri'lax said, resigned to his fate.\n\n\"Oh yeah. We're not going anywhere for awhile. You might as well get comfy, because I'm not leaving until all of these guys have been sufficiently pet.\"\n\nGri'lax grumbled and sat, leaning against a tree. He shook his head as he watched her play with the local animals. He really would never understand humans." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Staff are reminded not to debate philosophy with the quarantine patients. Doing so may be considered a sign of infection." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As Andy came down the stairs, the intercom beeped and an automated voice read the message that was delivered at the beginning of each day at the facility.\n\n“A reminder to all staff to please limit contact with patients. We are meant to observe and nothing more. Report any improper behavior to Central Administration immediately.”\n\nHe made his way down the plain white hallway towards the the cafeteria, nodding to his co-workers with a slight awkwardness that lingered beneath the routine gesture. Forgetting to eat breakfast in his room this morning had left Andy quite hungry and he wanted to ensure that he did not start work today on an empty stomach. He grabbed a plate of scrambled eggs from among a variety of choices and opted for the orange juice over the glass of milk because he felt like mixing things up.\n\nLike most days, Andy sat alone and ate his food in silence. He stared out a nearby window and let his mind drift into a daydream.\n\n“Hey Andy,” Louis said as he broke Andy out of his daydream and sat down across from him. \"Looks like you’re a bit bored.\"\n\n“Oh actual-”\n\n“No matter.” Louis said cutting Andy off. “Look. I am kind of getting annoyed with Central Admin. I mean, we have been here for over a month and they still haven’t told us what the big deal is about talking with these patients. Are they even that dangerous?”\n\nAndy looked around nervously making sure no one had heard what Louis had said before trying to calm Louis down. “I wouldn’t worry so much about it Louis, I am sure Central Admin knows what they are talking about. They only tell us what we need to know in order to keep us sa-.”\n\nLouis interrupted Andy again and leaned in close “I think we should just kill them all off. Who cares about keeping them around?”\n\n“Jeese Louis, are you serious?” Andy whispered.\n\n“Yeah I am. If they are such a big threat then it would be better to just finish them off instead of keeping them around. Save us all a lot of trouble and time.”\n\nAn awkward silence followed and Andy began to feel more and more uneasy.\n\n“Okay Louis, well I am full and I’ve got to… uh…” Andy struggled to think of an excuse to leave. “I have to get to work. They are expecting me.”\n\nAndy quickly stood up and headed towards his room, leaving behind Louis and his half-eaten plate of scrambled eggs.\n\nFive minutes later, Andy arrived at his room and slammed the door behind him.\n\n“What the hell was that?\" He muttered to himself.\n\nHe paced around his room and he began to sweat uncontrollably. Should he call Central Admin and report Louis? Should he just go back to work? He had no idea how to go forward.\n\nJust as he began to feel the stress of the decision grow overwhelming, a sudden calm quickly came over him. The thoughts of Louis and what he had said and his still lingering hunger melted in the back of his mind. Suddenly all of his concerns started to dissipate. Even concerns about life at home or from before he had moved to the facility slowly fell away.\n\nJust as his last worry turned to nothing, he began to feel his ambitions deteriorate as well. Soon his desire to pursue his PhD disappeared along with his dream of going skydiving and having a son. Before Andy knew it, he was sitting quietly on his bed wondering why he was even there.\n\nJust then he heard a knock at the door.\n\n“Andy? Are you in there? This is Richard from Central Admin. We are going to need you to come with us.”\n\n“Sure,” Andy said lazily, “What's the point? I really don’t care about much anymore.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: Fireflies are pretty. Willow wisps are prettier. And the young mage who walks through the woods in the dead of night is the prettiest of all." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The group of men riding through the forest knew better than to be led aside by the dancing lights. Will – o-the-wisps that flicker out of existence the moment you look at them straight on. Creatures who can only be seen from the corner of your eyes. But they are given power merely to mislead, not to wound or maim or slay. They are no danger. At least, not to men like these. Not to the Hunters. The fireflies flicker too, but they are physical nuisances, flying against the cold faces of the warriors, to be swatted aside or just ignored.\n\nAt a signal from the leader, the men halt, and all dismount. All in utter silence. Not a word is spoken, as they leave the horses and proceed on foot. They are careful with every step they take. No man’s foot lands on a dry leaf that may rustle or a twig that may snap. These are not city men, no random mob assembled. They know what they are up against. It is in silence that they catch sight of her.\n\nShe moves in silence too, but with her it is not ponderous care, but natural grace. She seems to float along the winding forest path, as if she were made of some substance lighter than air. The girl with a face like moonlight made solid, and unbound tresses cascading down like sunlight made liquid, she hums softly as she moves. Any man catching sight of that vision of loveliness would have halted in sheer awe, perhaps fallen to his knees, in fear that he stood in the presence of one who trod the Celestial paths, stood before the Throne of God.\n\nBut these men know better. She is Eve in all her glory and all her sin. The serpent’s beloved handmaiden. A mage. Witch. They needed this final proof to seal the creature’s fate, though some may consider it unnecessary in background of all the evidence accumulated against her already. However, the lead Hunter, Sir Stephan Mortimer, is a man who needs to be thorough.\n\nAnd after all, this is convincing proof if nothing else is. What mortal maiden would dare walk unattended in the woods, alone in the midnight hours but one who knows she has naught to fear? One who knows darkness is her ally and her mantle. Who belongs to the Evil One, bride to the prince of darkness.\n\nIn an instant, in a swift, well practiced move, they have her surrounded.\n\n“ Mary Ashton” Mortimer’s voice is sharp as steel and just as cold. Mary. She was baptized with Our Lady’s Holy name. “ I must ask you to repent of your sins, for in a short while you shall be making answer for them before a Court your spells can’t charm.”\n\nHe has done this scores of times. Seen this enacted hundreds of times. The words roll off his tongue almost without conscious thought. But now, there is something wrong. Off script. The woman - no, girl, she can’t have seen more than seventeen summers - look at him with something unfathomable in her eyes, something that is almost contempt.\n\n“Do you believe so, Sir Witchfinder?”\n\nThere is no fear there. He has seen bold women before, most of them are bold, the devil drains them of the natural modesty of maidens and clothe them in his own pride and arrogance, but even the bravest, the ones who laughed and spat in his face, had been afraid. Not showing fear, but afraid, all the same. But the witchfinder who can smell fear as sharp as a bloodhound smells the gametrail, can find no trace of fear in her.\n\n“I am appointed in the name of our Sovereign Majesty upon this Earth and the Monarch of Monarchs, our Heavenly Father, to bring to justice those such as you, daughter of Lilith.” He brushes away the fireflies that fly at him. They dart back to rejoin their comrades lighting the bushes.\n\nShe laughs. A long, tinkling peal of laughter. The laughter of a merry girl who sees her pup run around chasing his own tail. “You have never seen one such as me, witchfinder.” She smiles. “You have seen and captured wise women, the midwives, the Cunningwomen who knows how to heal and kill with the herbs of the woods, mad women rambling in their delirium, women who could no longer bear how rigidly they were bound. These you saw, captured, tortured into confessions, burned. Maybe even told yourself the lie so often that it became your truth. That these were devil’s brides, condemned to flames in this life and the next. But you have never seen one such as me, Sir Witchfinder.”\n\nMortimer intends to listen no longer. The witch who dares to speak thus, blaspheme thus, may well cast her charm over even them as they stand. He has seen it happen. Juries refusing to convict, hoodwinked by the demonesses. He will not risk it here. The sword is in his hand unsheathed as he steps forward.\n\nHe takes only one step before something something small and glowing, darts into his vision. Into his eyes. Mortimer shrieks as the fireflies swarm him in one golden flickering stream. Around him his men scream as well, but he can no longer see what is happening to them. Even could he see, he is too paralyzed by the unexpected agony to spare a thought for them.\n\n“Jesu!” He shrieks. Opening his mouth is a mistake, as the swarm- much larger than they had been when he could see- forces itself into his mouth, nose, down his throat, his throat that is closing up. He shrieks and screams and swats at them, his vision is gone, his senses fading. His hearing is the last to go, and he hears once more the laughter laden voice of the witch.\n\n“This is for all of them, Witchfinder. For all the daughters of Eve, for the Holy Name of the Prince of Peace you defiled with blood of the innocent. Before you die, know that this is the first time you found yourself tracking down an actual witch, one who knows how to bend the world to her will.” He senses her standing over him. “I’ll take the horses back to your stables. There are wolves in these woods.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You typically sleep 40 hours at a time and it makes life a little more challenging." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kleine-Levin Hibernation Syndrome. That’s what my doctor read off my chart after observing me sleep for 40 hours in the sleep test. To me, the whole experience went by in a blink. To them, another fascinating case study to flaunt in board room meetings and college classrooms. Every Friday night precisely at 10:00 PM without fail, I fall into a mini-coma. My eyes droop one second and the next second, it’s Sunday afternoon.\n\nDr. Tylim, or Chris as he insists being called, begs me to be his guinea pig for a study of my condition. I don’t want to do it. This is not something fascinating to me. My life and my body are not for experiments. I just want it to go away. He promises me that I’ll get a paycheck for my participation, but I don’t want to sell myself for petty cash. My life is already hard enough as it is without me wasting my weekends at Dr. Tylim’s office. I can’t watch movies on opening night. I can’t join any of the sports teams at school. I can’t go on dates with girls. When people hear about my disease, they call it a “gift.” ‘I wish I could catch up on all my sleep all in one go’ is something I hear almost every week. Bobby the Bear is my class nickname because word spread that I eat everything in sight once my eyes flicker open which makes me bloat like a hot air balloon.\n\nNot going to lie, I do like the attention I get when people ask me about my weekly hibernations. Sometimes the popularity is fun. Sometimes I don’t even mind when my classmates ask me about my strange habits. I even dressed up like Winnie the Pooh one year just to humor them. Having a rare neurological disease does have its perks.\n\nFunny thing is, I never get tired. I imagine its like mainlining a Red Bull or something like that. The only perk of sleeping for 40 hours I guess. Outside of my weekly death sleep, I sleep a normal 8 hours and I never feel drowsy or fatigued. No weight on my eyelids, no slamming the snooze button before school. A decent silver lining if you ask anyone else. If you asked me, I’ll trade that all for a regular sleep schedule. I have friends, but no one close. My favorite band threw a concert for my sleepy, quiet town and I was on my back staring into the pitch black of my eyelids.\n\nThere’s no real cure either. My parents can’t afford the medication that Dr. Tylim prescribes and he won’t (or can’t) guarantee that it’ll help my situation. Most people who have my condition only sleep 20 hours max and it’s incredibly irregular. Makes me feel like a clockwork machine. Wound up for 40 hours every single week just to shovel food into my gut. At least it’s only on the weekend, so I don’t miss school. Is it the worst thing in the world? No. I could have a crazy condition that liquefies my bones or makes my heart explode if my blood pressure is too high. Is it a cool mutation that makes my life better? Absolutely not. It sucks not being able to enjoy practically two days of the week. It’s like losing a part of my life in a way to a dreamless void.\n\nDr. Tylim told me to get back to him about his offer next week before I hibernate again. I’ll tell him that he can find me at home in my bed surrounded by food to eat when Sunday afternoon rolls around." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 600-700 words. Prompt: The isekai truck hit a person to send them to a world where they are needed, but the person survived getting runover, now the truck driver seeks to finish the job, regardless how it is done." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A group of summoners are awaiting for the arrival of any news of success in summoning the hero. In front of them is a shining portal that flickers as Driver-kun enters from the other world. The main summoner responsible for this, Frey, begins to speak.\n\nFrey: Is he killed yet?\n\nSilence echos through the ritual.\n\nFrey: You couldn’t kill him in time? What now?\n\nDriver-kun: Okay. Here me out.\n\nSummoner: Oh dear god. Our world is doomed.\n\nDriver-kun; I had him. He barely got by my semi-truck.\n\nFrey: You had a semi and still missed?\n\nOther summoner: What’s a semi?\n\nSummoner: It’s a like a carriage that weighs over 6000 pounds. Really massive.\n\nFrey: It took you longer this time too and you still died.\n\nDriver-kun: You don’t understand. I had to reincarnate all over again, go through schooling, get a drivers license and a CDL.\n\nFrey: Cee-Dee -El?\n\nDriver-kun: It’s like a special license to drive semi’s. Damn, Bill’s not going to like that I wrecked his company vehicle.\n\nFrey: That’s it. I’m through with this. Clearly you are not capable to do this. We will have to find someone else willing.\n\nDriver-kun: No No. Please.\n\nFrey: Your heart must not be set for this.\n\nDriver-kun: I am the only one who can navigate the other world. (Points to one of the other summoners.) You don’t want to be reincarnated into the other world. Imagine all the suffering you have to deal with.\n\nSummoner: He’s right Miss Frey.\n\nFrey: Oh Please.\n\nSummoner: Driver-kun is the best chance we have to someone willing to be “reincarnated” multiple times. None of the other summoners want to go through the trials of that other world. Not many would like to die to go through the arduous task of “Prom”.\n\nDriver-kun: Ugh, Prom. Right.\n\nFrey: Fine. One more chance. I can’t keep spending precious mana for this.\n\nDriver-kun: Thank you. I promise that all the training I have for my past lives will pay off this time.\n\nFrey: You best realize that the fate of our world is in great danger. You have tonight. You best make preparations at your dorm tonight.\n\nDriver-kun: Yes madam.\n\nAll the summoners including Frey leave and Driver-kin is left to himself.\n\nDriver-kun: Madam Frey, I do intend on killing the hero so he can make it to our world. But I cannot tell you the real truth. When my hands grip the steering wheel of a car, I cannot help but be amazed at how complex a car is. This world here is boring. I’ve tried every career path here. Tried being a wizard and I wasn’t bright enough. When I applied to become a Knight, they laughed at me. Instead I was left to intern for a bunch of summoners who don’t even acknowledge me. So yeah, I may tell lies about how Prom is some horrifying event that tortures your sanity. The summoners here are none the wiser. I try to live in the other world as best as I can until time is running short. My chance to become reincarnated in the other world was so fortunate for me. I just only hope that by pure luck that the hero dies of some heart attack so that I can focus on “driving.” When my hands grip the steering wheel of the car, all my troubles fade away. I know I can do my part in saving this world from the evil overlord… but…. ugh… just give me time. I have one more life and I have to make this one count. Hopefully…. for my last time…. I’ll have 20/20 vision so I can pilot a plane. That way I won’t have any regrets." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: You are an immortal evil overlord. One of your soldiers just discovered a prophecy that speeks of The One who will destroy you. Your High General recommends a preemptive attack, but you have a better idea." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“So you have brought me a missive from the Oracle of Den’Shal?” The Tenebrous One asked, fixing her steely gaze on Lieutenant Grimalski.\n\nOn The Tenebrous One’s left side was High General Tide, a massive behemoth of a man at least seven feet tall. Years of fighting had left him more machine than man; the left side of his face was replaced with cybernetic parts and so were all of his limbs. On her right side was High Mage Assar. Shadow surrounded him and only the vaguest hint of his features was visible.\n\nGrimalski had been mortally terrified of meeting The Tenebrous One, and seeing both her and her chief acolytes was almost more than he could bare. But he steeled himself and stepped forward nonetheless.\n\n“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “The Oracle has prophesized that – and I’m quoting here – ‘The Tenebrous One will fall before a warrior of light, born upon a half moon, its mark emblazoned on his arm.’”\n\nThe Tenebrous One raised an eyebrow. “Surprisingly direct for an oracle. I’m impressed. High Mage Assar? Who is this child of the half moon?”\n\nThe shadows around Assar grew more prominent. Grimalski smelled sulfur. After a few moments, they subsided to their normal position. Assar cleared his throat. “My divinations have indicated that only one child was born recently with a half-moon birthmark on his arm. He is in the Northeastern Province, the child of poor bakers.”\n\nGeneral Tide crossed his arms. “Your Majesty, this is quite simple. I will simply take a legion of my best troops and turn that village to ash.”\n\nThere was a harsh sound that sounded like metal scraping on metal and it took a few minutes for Lieutenant Grimalski to realize that The Tenebrous One was laughing. “Really? And what happens when that village is defended by a paladin? Or worse, a wizard? We know already that we did not eliminate all the members of the Order of Light when we conquered the country. A member of the Order of Light can easily thwart High Mage Assar’s divinations; you could be walking into a trap. No, destiny is on its guard for direct things like that. We must be more…subtle.”\n\nThe Tenebrous One rose from her throne and walked over to the window of the throne room. “We will hold a lottery. One random family in the Dominion will be made nobility each year. It’ll add new perspectives to the Leadership Council; it’ll be good for national morale. And the first family to be ennobled will be the Chosen One’s.”\n\nGrimalski frowned. “Begging your pardon, Your Majesty, but I don’t understand. Won’t that just give him more assets when he comes of age?”\n\nThe Tenebrous One laughed that unnerving laugh once again. “A Chosen One is blessed with powers to stand against me, yes, but he is just one man. He would need the support of the people to win. When he comes of age, as a reward for his service, he will be placed in charge of collecting taxes, making him reviled by the populace.”\n\nShe turned towards General Tide. “General, kill this ungrateful wretch for daring to question me.”\n\nLieutenant Grimalski’s eyes widened, but he could barely react otherwise before Tide unsheathed a massive sword and swung it in a terminal arc. The sword sliced through Grimalski’s neck and his head bounced when it hit the floor.\n\nThe Tenebrous One waved a languid hand. “Now leave me. I am tired.”\n\nHigh Mage Assar and High General Tide both bowed. “As you wish, my liege.”\n\nHigh General Tide walked down a maze of endless and barely lit corridors. He knew that the palace was named the Dark Palace, but he wished it didn’t have to be so literal. If he had a gold coin for every time he had tripped in these dark hallways, he’d be richer than any dragon in the Dominion. He strongly suspected that Assar and The Tenebrous One used magic to get through these corridors.\n\nHe had wished all his life that he had access to magic. But he had something better.\n\nAfter a half hour of wandering through the halls, he finally made it back to his dim, poorly lit office. It also smelled terribly like cabbage all the time and it was always freezing cold. He could understand it if he was offered this office as a punishment, but this was actually the best office in the palace.\n\nGrumbling, he walked over to a bookcase and pulled back on a book. The bookcase moved over to one side and he stepped into his secret room.\n\nIt was not uncommon to have a secret room in the Dark Palace. Actually, it was technically indeed uncommon, because The Tenebrous One knew pretty much everything, but to everyone else, this room was a secret. This room was where General Tide kept his finest sword, his collection of romance novels, and the money that he’d been slowly embezzling from the Dark Treasury. But none of that mattered.\n\nGeneral Tide pressed one of the stones on the wall and a trapdoor opened in the floor. He walked down a ladder into his real secret room, the place that not even the Tenebrous One knew about.\n\nIn the center of that secret room was limbs. His own limbs, to be precise, put in stasis by a sorcerer who Tide had subsequently killed. He looked at these amazing pieces of flesh and he missed them. He missed having feet. He missed having fingers.\n\nAnd he missed the arm with the half-moon birthmark on it.\n\nHe touched the arm gently. “I’ll avenge you, Sonja,” General Tide said softly. “I swear it.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: People who have forgotten they were \"it\" from tag have a 100% chance of being a serial killer" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It started after I graduated from our middle school. Whenever someone would run by, I would feel this urge to grab them by the arms, to never let them go. It wasn’t hard controlling myself back then, I googled my symptoms and just assumed I had a weird kink. I stayed away from the Track and Field club and stared at my feet as I walked, I was fine.\n\nBut every passing year the urge grew stronger and stronger, until it went beyond simply grabbing people Tony. I wanted to hear them scream as they ran. Every time someone walked by I could feel something inside me, begging to be unchained. My arms would twitch and my head felt like someone was pounding on the walls of my skull. I realized then it wasn’t just a kink. Not a passing phase, it was a purpose and I embraced whatever resided inside me. I let it free into the world and since then I've never felt more alive.\n\nI began hiding in the park at night, searching for unsuspecting runners. The first one was a teenage girl, complaining about her parents over the phone while speed walking. I remember everything. I remember her saying, “What the fuck,” as I came out of the bushes. I remember her trying to run away from me, and I remember grabbing her head with a single hand, I remember the smell of her lavender shampoo as her hair tore, and I remember the crunch of her windpipe. I remember her writhing on the ground, struggling to breathe as I watched her in ecstasy.\n\nShe was the first Tony! The first to let me be me. But she wasn’t the last. I killed person after person. An old man on his morning jog, a child catching up to his ball, a pervert running from the girl he was stalking. I chased them down with the speed in my legs, and tore them apart with the strength of my arms. It was better when they thought they could run, when they took part in my game. Oh how I despised it when they gave up and sat crying.\n\nBack then I thought all these people would lead me to something, a far greater purpose to lead me in life, but I realize now, the primal urge within me was not leading me into my future, but bringing me back towards my past.\n\nYou, Tony. Yes, you. You, and Cassandra Perkins, David Garron, Jonathan Lee, and Ashley Hilder. Do you remember the others Tony? Do you remember how slow David was, and how Ashley only wanted to play freeze tag? How Jonathan always complained about his bad ankle, and how Cassandra used her back as an excuse for being slow? Do you remember the thrill we got from chasing each other around the monkey bars, screaming in joy as we barely escaped with our freedom. You don’t? Well, I do. It’s so much better now Tony. David still couldn’t escape me and Ashley froze in a different way. Jonathan almost got away before I cut his tendons, and Cassandra broke her neck as I chased her. It was like middle school all over again, and now that I've got you, it's like we're all back in that playground again as one big happy family.\n\nDon't you miss it Tony?\n\nDon't you remember Tony?\n\nI'm it" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: With only moments left to live, a mysterious man walks in your hospital room and claims he has a pill that will give you immortality." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As my family begin to leave the room sobbing, it is only then I realize that I won't be long for this earth. I begin to ask myself,\"What did I do with my time here?\" and \"How did it come to this?\" I know that there is nothing that can be done for me, so i just lay there and remember the tender memories of those that had just left. I smirk one last time and accept the inevitable.\n\nA sudden warmth covers my body as I close my eyes, all my worries seemed to just wash away like an ocean tide. I feel light as a feather, floating upwards towards a more ethereal plane. But my body isn't coming with me, I know it is already occurring. It becomes apparent that I instinctively know where to go from here. Possibly my ancestors knew just as everyone else? It's beyond me.\n\nI feel the immense love and care from those that I was about to leave. Knowing the same fate, I try to shed a tear. But I couldn't. I began to felt uncaring as I continue to rise. That is when I met the stranger. His figure seemed old, posture was hunched, but I could never see his face due to his black hood covering it. I believed that this was the reaper taking me.\n\n\"Welcome. I have been expecting this meeting for quite sometime now.\" He said as a smirk overlay the dark hood.\n\nCurious, I tried to speak to get an explanation. But nothing let out, not even a cry. Dumbfounded, I only had my expressions to communicate with. He knew this, but wanted to watch my reactions.\n\n\"Yes, you cannot speak. This is probably for the best, for I have much to tell you. You cannot speak for you are at the moment boundless. Intercepted by me before reaching your destination. For you have been chosen for an experiment granted by Jehovah and Lucifer in agreement.\"\n\nSurprised at not only being chosen by the two, but also that they even existed. The stranger paused and stared at me, almost reading my thoughts. He knew I was interested.\n\n\"Just like the rest of Earth, you lived a very mundane life. In your current day and age, it is no surprise that everyone wants the same things. You're no special than anyone else. But if given a second chance, would you do better?\" all the while his smirk turning into a smile. His head rose, giving me more detail. No teeth, wrinkled skin, and grey hair. I still couldn't see his full face.\n\nImmediately, I jumped back. I couldn't believe this opportunity! I could tell people what had occurred here, be the next prophet. I could make a difference on Earth!.. But the stranger had different plans.\n\n\"If you take this spiritual pill, you will go back to your body. Henceforth healed from all illnesses, including aging. You will be able to do what you wish with your pathetic life. But be warned, you must never tell a soul about our meeting. For you are only allowed to observe the human race, as a record of your history for later use. Breaking this bond will lead to eternal nothingness, it'll be like you never existed.\"\n\nI had thought about this long and hard, seeming like an eternity. But I thought about the needs that these beings may need me for, I could be the one to help mold the barrier from Humans and Gods. To better integrate these two, I must be a sacrifice. So I nodded and took the pill. As I swallowed the pill, I looked over at the stranger and he couldn't contain himself. Taking off his robe, he revealed himself.\n\nThe stranger was me, aged as if it were years. His eyes pierced my slowly lowering soul. His laughter was blood curdling, I couldn't believe what I was seeing.\n\n\"To better ensure our agreement, you may not be able to speak down there as well. Think of it as a side-effect from the pill. I'm sure you'll communicate fine. 'Till our next meeting..\"\n\nI awoke in the morgue, about to be cut open. I jolted up, but couldn't scream. The employees screamed bloody murder as I rose. Confusion ensued and local officials were called in. My family were called into the hospital later to see me. Relieved, they hugged me and told me they were happy. I couldn't express myself at the moment, I couldn't talk. The doctors had diagnosed me as being partially brain dead, I couldn't speak. But I knew otherwise.\n\nYears later, I see the last of my family on his death bed. My brother closing his eyes as he was swept away. I remembered that feeling of relief, but could no longer accept it as part of my life. I remembered all those that had passed after I was supposed to. Multiple suicide attempts later, I was still here. I didn't want to be a part of this painful plan anymore, but there was no going back. I began to leave the room sobbing, wondering how long will I be on this earth for." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: People can only see in black and white, but when you meet your soulmate, you see each other in color." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I was at the grocery store trying to inspect the tomatoes in the produce section to determine which was more ripe. I’d heard, in the time before, that deep red colored tomatoes were more ripe, but such distinctions were no longer relevant. Both were dull and gray, like the rest of the world. Shades of gray walked around the grocery store pushing carts loaded with products covered in fashionable, eye-catching fonts. The idea that advertisements used to rely on variations in the “visible chromatic spectrum” was foreign to me, as foreign as the ability to discern the riper of two tomatoes by “color”. Still one of them looked a little darker, so I tossed that one in my cart.\n\nWhen I looked up my world changed.\n\nThere is one exception to the black and white world. There is one instance where color still exists: soulmates. \n\nIt is a well documented phenomenon that when soulmates meet they can see each other in color. Every article I’d ever read struggled to describe the phenomenon. “It was like listening to the Beatles for the first time.” “It reminded me of the first time I tried chocolate.” “It’s as if you spent your whole life looking through a keyhole and suddenly the door is thrown open.”\n\nI had been desperate to find the Color in my Life for years. I spent the last few years attending stadium-sized concerts and sporting events hoping for a chance to see a glimpse of color among the crowds. I traveled the world and got lost in seas of people wishing to find that singular person that turned my world around. I started believing the phenomenon wasn’t true, and everyone had tricked themselves into seeing something that didn’t exist.\n\nNow the door was thrown open, and my mind reeled with the discovery of the new world.\n\nShe had shoulder length chestnut brown hair. Her eyes were a blue so deep I thought if I looked hard enough I could see new worlds. Her lips were red, and as she walked she left patches of color like spotlights on the cream linoleum floor, that faded back to gray as she pushed her cart forward.\n\nI rushed towards her unaware that my feet were moving. No longer aware of my body at all. She was the Color in my Life.\n\nShe was wearing a light pink blouse that accentuated the subtle caramel color of her skin. A dark purple skirt ended at her knees over her garish green socks that clashed with the rest of her outfit, but that was to be forgiven as I was sure she thought it was a very sensible shade of gray. I savored each moment that passed as new words and colors sprang into my mind like long dormant creatures experiencing the sun for the first time.\n\n“Hello,” I said catching up with her as she was comparing two apples from the produce bin. One was a dark red, the other green. She looked up at me, and froze for a moment. Her eyes widened, or maybe I just imagined that.\n\n“Um, hi?” She said with a hesitant smile.\n\n“I, um, I can see you.” The words stumbled from my mouth before I could form them into anything more coherent.\n\n“Yes, I can see you too. Can I help you?” She asked.\n\n“No.” I said, “I mean I can see you. I can see you in color. You’re my soulmate.”\n\n“I-” She paused, placed the fruit in her cart, and wrung her hands together. “I don’t know what you mean.” \n\nI hesitated unsure of what to do next. I blinked a few times scared the color would be a passing illusion and that the world in front of me would change back to black and white, but she was still there - shrouded in more beauty than I could possibly describe to anyone. She was the person I had spent the last three years and most of my savings trying to find. People spent their whole lives wishing to find their soulmate, and here I was fortunate enough to bump into mine at the grocery store.\n\n“Your hair is brown.” I said, “You have green eyes and red lips, and a purple skirt. And I don’t know how I know all this. I just do. The words sort of just existed when I saw you passing by. You’re my soulmate.”\n\n“I know the stories,” she said, “but I’m sorry you must have me confused with someone else. I don’t-”\n\n“Here!” I said grabbing the two apples from her cart. “They looked like the same color before, right? But you can see the differences now. Can’t you?”\n\nShe shook her head slowly killing the butteflies in my stomach one at a time. They dropped dead, and piled into a heap of delicate, crushed hopes at the pit of my stomach. It made me feel sick.\n\n“I don’t look any different to you?” I asked.\n\n“I’m sorry,” she said tucking her hair behind her right ear. Her nails were bright pink. “I think maybe you must be mistaken.”\n\nShe turned to leave, but I reached out and grabbed her cart. “But it’s you. You’re my soulmate. You must know?”\n\n“I know!” she snapped. The words reverberated around the grocery store. She took a step back from her cart and looked around. Those that were staring quickly looked away. “I’m sorry. Maybe that’s how you see me, but that’s not how I see you. People, my friends, they all spend so much time looking for their color, that they ignore the rest of the world around them. They give up on all other forms of love. I decided,” she said subconsciously reaching towards the wedding band on her left hand, “that I didn’t want to live like that.”\n\nIt felt like a bad joke.\n\n“I found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, and you should too.”\n\nShe turned, abandoning the cart, and walked out of the grocery store.\n\n“It’s like looking through a keyhole,” I muttered to myself. \n\nAll those things I had done to find her, the places I had been, did I really enjoy them? How much of the world had I missed looking for a single flash of color?\n\nAs the last fragments of color faded back into gray, the world seemed much bigger." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: The Grim Reaper need to take some time off work, and is interviewing candidates" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "So I'm sitting here, face to face with Death itself, and I have to say these are the best scones I've ever had.\n\nIt started off pretty simply. I was looking for a job on the web, and found an ad for someone wanting a \"Replacement Death\". Now, it being near Halloween, I thought it was a haunted house or something, and I jumped all over that! Being new to town I just snapped a picture of it and went to the library to look up the address.\n\nThis is where things started to become unsettling. It said that the address printed on the ad matched that of a morgue. Me being who I am, I started to over-think and worry that I might be going in for something terribly gruesome, as the words \"Replacement Death Needed\" aren't terribly specific.\n\nThankfully, I followed through and went there and saw that there were quite a few other applicants. There were two dark looking kids, dressed in black from head to toe, an old lady, wearing what looks to be a dress from last century, and this particularly scary man, built like a tower of muscle and with scars on his arms and face. I took a seat by myself, hoping to avoid anyone's attention, and eventually the door opened and out came a lady with a face something like a bird. I heard a particularly unsettling voice say, \"Next\", and one of the dark kids went in.\n\nThis happened three more times until I was the only person in the office. I had dressed in my best vest and pants, and when the voice called for me I brushed my hair back with my hand, opened the door, sat down, and nearly made a mess in my pants. The room was small, about the size of two closets stapled together, and there was a faint darkness to it even though the light above me was particularly bright, but what sat across from me was the part that made my pants nearly collect human feces: I saw a face that appeared to have been skinned alive, and afterwards was left to rot for many days, as it was gangrenous and had many insects crawling in and out of it.\n\nThe flesh parted horizontally and revealed teeth that were mangled and twisted, and a voice began to come forth from the throat, as voice that was simultaneously a gargle of fluids and a gasp of breath, and to me it said, \"Hello.\" I wasn't even certain it was talking to me, but I offered it my right hand and replied,\"Hi! Name's Chuck, Chuck Davidson, I hear you need a replacement death, right?\"\n\nIt waved away my hand, scrawled some notes down, and it returned, \"Indeed, I placed the ad. It would seem we are in need of a part time replacement for Death, as she's been meaning to go to the Bahamas for about a half decade now and hasn't had the chance. So, Mr. Davidson, tell me about yourself.\"\n\nIt's comment about the Bahamas was a bit confusing, as I'd figure someone dressing up as Death for Halloween would probably be lucky to see some fine dining, but I shrugged it off, carrying on with, \"Yes, well, I'm actually without a job right now, but I have some experience with seasonal work, as I've worked the orchards during the summer and done a lot of volunteer work around Halloween.\"\n\nMore notes were scrawled down. \"Excellent. So tell me, Mr. Davidson, do you have any qualms with the macabre?\"\n\n\"I wouldn't lie and say that I'm beyond a bit of queasiness, but I can overcome that.\"\n\n\"Do I disturb you, Mr. Davidson?\"\n\n\"A bit.\"\n\n\"What about this picture, Mr. Davidson?\"\n\nIt slid a Polaroid across the table, and it contained a picture of a baby with its umbilical cord wrapped around its neck, with clear signs of choking. \"I can't say that it does really.\"\n\nEven more notes were scrawled down. \"Mr. Davidson, I believe you may have the qualities we require for this job. We will call you in the next two to three days. Food and accommodations will be provided, should you accept the job. It will take place from the 25th of October to the 25 of November. How would you like to experience something no other mortal will?\"\n\n\"Sure thing, where do I sign?\"\n\n\"Right here, Mr. Davidson. Have a nice day, and you'll hear from us shortly.\"\n\nI offered my hand one last time, it again refused, and I went on my merry little way. That was the last I'd thought I would hear from them." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: Her heart was made of cogs" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Time marched on as it does and the world moved past, leaving behind so much, taking very little.\n\nHer name was Alis and her kind was dying. A new age dawned, though the sun hardly rose, and it came more like an erosion all that she had ever known. They were called humans and they were different than her and her people. They would soon rule the land and in their hubris her kind would never have existed. It was all being erased.\n\nThe shadows fell few and far between in the shadow of man. She tried to remain hidden but it was in vain. Her home had gone and given way to mud and huts and stone things. Metal was to be hidden in time, only to be rediscovered and claimed by these new people.\n\nAlis wandered homeless in the desert as Rome was being built. She wandered far and she felt an emotion she had never processed before. Her people were hardly emotive and it took a lot of effort for the task. But she felt sadness and the effort was warranted by the pain. She was the last of her kind. Somewhere in her circuits, she knew this to be true.\n\nThroughout her journey to oblivion she came to a village near the Alps. The weather was cold and it froze her joints and she functioned badly. A boy, a human child, had seen her fall and he came to her. Alis had already closed her eyes, believing the inevitable to have come and accepted the cold grasp of death.\n\nThe boy saved her and she awoke near the fire and amidst the long shadows of the new civilization. He was Celtic, this boy, and he was fair and strong and curious. He had never seen the likes of her kind before. He was kind to her and she became unafraid.\n\nTime had taken much but as it passed it left few remnants. One was speech. The boy found he could speak to Alis and he spoke then as the night bruised the sky. The stars then were young too, bright and brilliant and they gave a glow that has faded with age.\n\n\"I have a village,\" the boy said. \"The others can care for you.\"\n\nThis frightened her.\n\n\"No, I will not go. Leave me to die if you must.\"\n\n\"The cold will get you.\"\n\n\"Then let it come. There is no place for me here.\"\n\nAnd the boy left. The last of his shadow passed over her and he was on the horizon then and she felt that sadness again. Crying was not something her people could have done, but the sensation was all the same. Alis sobbed then and wanted to follow.\n\nBut the boy came back as the night became black and as the snow roared through the cold air.\n\n\"These are skins,\" he said. \"They will keep us warm.\"\n\nThey spent the night together and it was the first time Alis had slept with anyone but her parents.\n\n\"I am not like you,\" she said. \"I do not think we can mate.\"\n\nThe boy laughed.\n\n\"My father says someone like me may never mate as well.\"\n\nAnd they were content. Time passed as it does but those moments were long and they were thankful.\n\nThe village discovered Alis though and they thought her an abomination. The boy had fought for her and he had fought valiantly, but he was young and he lost. They were to kill him when she stepped in.\n\n\"Stop!\" she said. \"Leave him be! He is your own. It is I who does not belong. Take me and do as you must.\"\n\nShe had saved him and he looked up at her, bloody and sad. There was already an uneasiness among the tribes there on the Alps, the vibrations of the coming war. They were on edge, those people, and they had only one recourse.\n\nThey were to sacrifice Alis to the Gods near the foot of the Alps. In the frigid wastes her flame was to be tribute, protecting them from the conflicts of man.\n\n\"No!\" the boy protested in vain.\n\nAlis was willing and she looked up at the grey skies as she was tied. Metal had been discovered then long ago and she was thought to be enchanted, an evil product of devilish work.\n\n\"You will burn!\" they said.\n\nThe boy stared at her and forced his way to the front despite his injuries.\n\n\"Do not!\" she commanded and she smiled at him. \"I will go to my people. There is no home for me here.\"\n\n\"But I love you!\" he screamed.\n\nAlis had not known the meaning of this, but though her heart was made of cogs, it worked the same as man's and she knew the feeling.\n\n\"I love you too!\" she screamed and the flames roared in the snow, reflecting of the ice in a bloody red.\n\nThe village rejoiced and as if from the heavens, the mountains began to rumble. The world seemed to shake at the final passing of the forgotten age and the time of man was consummated. A great army of men stormed from the peaks of the Alps with their leader at the front. Man was alone now but for himself.\n\nThe fire burned until Alis was no more and Hannibal came, the God they had so hoped to awaken. There was silence and fear among the Celts, and as the boy knelt in his grief and awe, he thought perhaps he would meet Alis soon in the afterlife." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 1400-1500 words. Prompt: As Earth enters into the Interplanetary Federation, we share our customs and history. Every alien species is fascinated with our technology because we are the only species to develop gunpowder." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Have you ever thought about what separates humans from animals? Of course most people would think of our intelligence which makes sense, seeing as it is ultimately the tool we ended up using the most, it is the thing we used to become the dominant species of our world, the apex organism of an entire planet.\n\nFor much of our history, humanity has enjoyed thinking that our intelligence alone is what kept us afloat, that our brains were what made us special.\n\nBut now it seems we aren’t so special anymore.\n\nWhen we finally made contact with extraterrestrial life, we found that we were late to the party. Thousands of alien life forms greeted us with indifference and disinterested. Oh they welcomed us into their little club, congratulated us on coming this far and introduced us to the species that shared similarities with us, but no one really cared. Our biology wasn’t particularly new, our psychology particularly interesting, our history wasn’t particularly unique.\n\nWhen the human ambassadors had called in from their meeting, they had seemed upset to say the least. According to reports, the biggest day in human history had slowly turned into a sort of alien roast session, as the humans were repeatedly told that we weren’t special or unique, and that our arrival at this point was nothing to celebrate.\n\nAnd then everything changed.\n\nReports vary on what the object was, the ambassador in question claims it was a pen, however the others seem to disagree. It doesn’t really matter what it was.\n\nAs they were leaving, one of the assistant ambassadors said what was possibly the most important word in our history, the one word that every alien would remember when they thought of our species.\n\n“Yeet!”\n\nMost people don’t really think about the other things that made humans special on earth. Sure intelligence is cool, but there’s a few other things that are almost unique to humans.\n\nHumans sweat, meaning we can run for longer distances without overheating. We stand upright, like birds, but we also have arms and hands which allow us to manipulate objects to create tools. And we have language, which allowed us to cooperate and work together with others in order to achieve the greatness we now know.\n\nAll of these things made us special on earth, but in space they were fairly mundane traits.\n\nThere was only one thing that made humans special.\n\nWe can throw.\n\nIt’s actually surprisingly difficult for evolution to produce a species capable of benefiting from throwing. The amount of traits that need to occur in the same organism is actually somewhat ridiculous when you think about it.\n\nFirst you need to be able to pick things up, and for those of you thinking that’s too basic to warrant being put on this list, I’d love to introduce you to worms. For this we have hands.\n\nNext, the thing you pick up said object with needs to be fairly mobile, it’s no good being able to hold things in your mouth or between your knees if you can’t swing those parts of you around. We have arms.\n\nThen comes the difficult part. You need to be able to move the object you want to throw, in a fairly straight line with a measure fo force and accuracy. Plenty of things can pick things up, and swing them around in a circular arc and release them in order to fling them haphazardly in the general direction they want, but this is neither efficient nor accurate. Humans have the right elbow, shoulders, balance and arm to size ratio to do all this without falling over.\n\nAnd finally, you need the brain to make use of all this. As humans we have brains that let us process the right information to gauge how far to throw and at what angle. Granted this takes practice.\n\nAnd guess what? Humans are the only species in history to get all of this right.\n\nWhen our alien friends found out about our little trick, they suddenly became more interested. More interested in our history, more interested in our technology.\n\nOur ability to throw put us on a divergent course from the usual path that intelligent species tended to follow.\n\nWhen fighting each other, humans needed to take into account ranged attacks as well as melee. So after we perfected short ranged weapons, we went to ranged weapons.\n\nWe had bows and arrows, so did a few of our alien friends, but they’d come up with them long after they could be useful. Then we’d made catapults.\n\nAfter a few studies, we managed to find one other species who’d come up with catapults.\n\nThe rest was all us.\n\nThen we’d made cannons, guns, so many guns. They’d never seen anything like it, it baffled them.\n\nA handheld device which could launch a projectile smaller than a marble at speeds fast enough to kill on impact.\n\nThey were horrified. The idea that this new species, this adolescent collective could end any one of them in an instant without having to be anywhere near them. Their fear only increased once they learned that we’d been using this technology since before we could even reach our own twin planet, the moon.\n\nImagine it from their perspective. We were a child who could kill with a wink, and yet couldn’t yet do basic math.\n\nNaturally, they wanted our secrets, they wanted our weapons. Everyone wanted a slice of the pie we’d spent so long making.\n\nWe told them no. There was no way we were going to hand over the blueprints to our armories over to a bunch of weird space freaks who couldn’t figure out a trebuchet using thousands of years of evolution.\n\nOur people left with a warning. If we didn’t cooperate, then the collective forces of the galactic union would come to take our weapons by force. We gave them three words in response.\n\n“Bring it on.”\n\nTheir faster than light ships arrived at earth before the ambassadors’ messages were even received. We welcomed them with open arms, not knowing they’d already declared war on us.\n\nIt was a massacre. The first of their ships landed in our densest of cities, and their people poured from them and began slaughtering our citizens.\n\nThey didn’t have ranged weapons, but they’d honed and perfected the art of close quarters combat. They were equipped with swords of pure energy, personal force fields that covered them like medieval looking armour, and strange mobility platforms which allowed them to fly from target to target.\n\nIt took a while for a proper response, but boy did we respond.\n\nThe hundred hour war, they called it.\n\nIt was quite the battle. Two armies employing greatly different tactics to try and kill each other. One side had far better mobility and far higher numbers, while the other had infinitely better range.\n\nIf it was just down to ground troops, we probably would have lost.\n\nSure we could shoot them before they could get close, but half the time they could get close before we could shoot them. Perhaps if we were on neutral ground, it would have been a fair fight, but we were in the defensive and they were taking out our civilians. Even if we were better equipped to kill, they were better equipped to fight.\n\nBut it wasn’t just ground troops.\n\nWe started attacking their ships, sending missiles and bombs dropped by jets, all culminating in a nuke sent directly into their biggest personnel carrier.\n\nWe eventually fought off and killed the last of their active ground troops, while waiting for them to retaliate against us with some sort of super space nuke. But that didn’t happen.\n\nThey didn’t have any ranged weapons, their ships couldn’t attack each other directly, so why would they bother defending them. Their main form of attack, hell their only form of attack, was their ground troops. But every time they tried to send more troops, we bombed it out of the sky.\n\nSo they left. They fled with their tails between their legs, hoping we would leave them alone.\n\nBut they’d kicked the hornet’s nest. And they’d left some of their wrecked ships behind.\n\nSo now, we’re coming after them, using their own tech as well as ours, and we’re going to make them pay for every death and every loss they caused us.\n\nIt seems humanity is special after all.\n\nAnd now we’re coming for you." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: a scientist works for a company that grows organs. But he hears screams in the basement. He enters the basement to find a farm full of thousands of faceless humans." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Hubert awoke in a daze. 2:50 his alarm clock read, and as he turned over to fall back asleep, he first noticed what sounded like a muffled conversation of twenty or more people far off in the distance. He shrugged it off, ignoring the sound and tried to nod off again. It wasn't unusual to hear his coleagues clammering about at odd hours of the night. He, along with several other scientists, all lived on company property, in company housing; somewhat like a hotel. All workers of Organs Reprisal Inc. were sworn to a life of secrecy as farming human organs was still somewhat frowned upon; even if it was saving lives.\n\n3:00 now, and Hubert was unable to drift back to sleep, as the sound of muffled conversation grew louder.\n\nIrritated, Hubert got out of bed to tell his coleagues to quiet down, slipping on his slippers and shuffling to the door.\n\nThe moment Hubert opened the door, he felt a sudden sense of dread and confusion wash over him. The muffled conversation became slightly clearer, more like distrought voices in anguish than a pleasant conversation, and the was no one around at either end of the hall.\n\nSlightly bemused, Hubert began to walk down the hall, partially out of curiosity to find the source of what woke him up, and also because he needed to find the bathroom and void his bladder. \"The older you get, the more often you gotta pee.\" Hubert muttered to himself, remembering his grandfather's words.\n\nBy the time Hubert was leaving the bathroom, he had almost forgotten about the muffled noise. Until he noticed it louder than ever, and closer too.\n\nWalking from the bathroom, across the living room, he aproached the door to the basement, and he was sure if it now more than ever; it wasn't people talking, they were screaming! He could hear the cries of thousands of people writhing in pain and agony, begging for any end to it all.\n\nNow confused more than ever, and also terrified, Hubert stood frozen in front of the door, unsure of what to do next.\n\nEven as one of the leading doctors for organ transplants, Hubert wasn't privy to the source of the donated organs; he just performed the transplants. He knew there were dark secrets that The Company hid from the world, and most of its employees, too. Only the top echelons knew what truly took place here; and Hubert felt the dreaded, cold hand of secrets most foul grasp his shoulder as he slowly turned to doornob on the basement door.\n\nHe opened the door and was met with abysmal darkness paired with the most inhuman agonizing howls that one could only compare to the depths of Hell. Hubert quickly fumbled for the light switch on the wall and instantly regreted the decision.\n\nThousands of faceless bodies suspended in stasis, force-fed by machines tubed to their stomachs, blood flowing in and out through a device that apeared to filter it.\n\nHorrified, Hubert couldn't help but just stand there in awe. They were motionless, just hanging there without a face. How is it that he could hear them screaming?\n\n\"I see that they have been able to reach out to you as well, Hubert.\"\n\nStartled, Hubert turned around just in time to see the face of Dr. Herschael, the lead scientist and owner of The Company, just before the light went out.\n\n\"What the hell is going on here, Herschael!?!\" Hubert exclaimed in a panic, not sure of what else to say or do.\n\n\"It seems that The Faceless, though grown in tubes from stem cells, are still able to evolve and retain human-like qualities.\"\n\n\"You're farming people for organs, you sick fuck!?\" proclaimed Hubert.\n\n\"No, not humans; cattle!\" Dr. Herschael retorted viciously. \"They are created and grown for the sole purpose of harvesting their organd to keep the dwindled remnants of true humanity alive!\"\n\nDumbfounded, Hubert just stood there in the dark, surrounded by motionless, faceless, screaming mutants.\n\n\"As I said before\", Herschael began, \"they are somehow still able to evolve. With nothing to do but hang in stasis, their mind has still developed. They have aquired telepathic abilities and have been trying to communicate, atempting to be rescued by anyone unfortunate enough to hear their disembodied cries.\"\n\n\"...how long?\" was all Hubert could manage to squeak out in a terrified, trembling voice.\n\n\"Long enough for no one to notice and my company to become very wealthy. And now that you know this ghastly secret and are sensitive to their callings, I have no choice, Hubert, but to place you among the rank and file of The Faceless!\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 900-1000 words. Prompt: You are the barkeep of a very strange bar. It seems to attract monsters and gods, and is the unofficial neutral ground in most conflicts. Everyone likes you, and you are well protected. One day, some New Gods come in and try to fuck with you." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I opened the doors of the Eden Hall for the first time in the week. Monday was surprisingly one of the busiest times of the week for me, since most of the... guests are off and about on the weekend. Lots of pagan rituals are done on the Fridays, and the gods have to clean up the aftermath of their shenaningans on Sunday, so Monday is naturally the best time for them to have a drink.\n\nAs soon as I turned back, there were already a few patrons on the darker corner of the place. It's common, since most apparitions don't need to use the door. I just have to issue an \"invitation\" for them to come in. The greeks are next, although I like to call them \"Zeus and the gang.\" The bickering among them are endless, but it all ends with Zeus' hand on the table, crackling with electricity, for them to stop. Then the native americans, native brazilians, Mayans and Aztecs, soon, the whole place is full of life. The unspoken rule of the Eden guarantees that I don't have any trouble, especially with the most rowdy of beings. However, one day was special.\n\nThe door opened to a guy on a sleek business suit and a multi-colored tie. Looked real professional, but the snarky expression on his face screamed trouble. Next to him was an alternative-styled, bored looking girl, her eyes fixated on her tablet, playing something. On his other side was a man... or it was a woman? Everytime I looked at them it seemed to change. Short, tall, asian, black, man, woman... The blue sweater didn't change, however. The three sat around a table, right next to the chinese gods, looking around and exchanging whispers. I approached them calmly, a notepad on my hand. \"Hey guys, welcome to Eden. What can I get ya?\" The business man mulled over it a while, the other guys more worried about looking to the other tables. \"It was really hard to find this place. I mean, you don't have anything online. No social media, not even on the Maps!\" I chuckled. \"Well, most of the guests already know this place. Let's say most of them come here for ages...\" The business man raised an eyebrow. \"Hm, I wonder why are they still around. I mean, no one wants them. The internet has anything people needs, right?\"\n\nIt was my turn to raise an eyebrow. \"Not really, no. Sometimes classic is best. Friendship and conflict, they existed long before computers.\" The now black man with the blue shirt scoffed. \"And look how they fared. Most of them forgotten. The internet is more or less eternal, all you have to do is post and boom. Instant eternity.\" The chatter died down a little as some of the other guests started listening to the exchange. The girl, who was silent until now, looked straight at me, her red eyes sharply taking all of my presence. \"This place is boring, you don't even have a decent TV around here.\" I shrug, pointing at the old tube TV currently playing the news. \"That's all I need.\" The girl looked annoyed, and the business man stepped in. \"I'll tell you what. I didn't come here to drink, I came here with a business proposal. Sell this place to me, and I can amp up the profit tenfold. You can work here as usual, with a bigger paycheck and I get to expand my domain more, maybe... take out the trash. What do you say?\" The place was as silent as a graveyard now, all of the eyes directed to the table. I pretended to think about it, tapping my pen at the notepad, before laughing. \"I'll have to decline, this place means more than money to me. And where would someone... peculiar go for a cold or hot drink if not here? Sorry, but this place isn't for sale.\"\n\nThe man adjusted his tie, the colors seemingly moving on their own, as he rose from the chair. \"Look, I see you're a smart man. Don't make the wrong choice here. It'll be good for everybody. Especially for your health...\" He adjusted my shirt, and I took a step back. \"I don't think you're welcome here anymore.\" The business man walked forward. \"I'm welcome anywhere I want. Now, you have two choices: Either leave this place to me willingly, or by for-\" A red fist came into my field of vision, taking the place where the business suit man was. I looked to the right, following the arm, but I already knew who it was. \"You are bold to make threats on a neutral ground, whelp.\" Ares towered over the man, as he quickly rose from the ground, seemingly unscathed, except on his pride. \"Ah, the god of war. What are you going to do? You don't have the speck of power that I do now.\" The other two rose from their seats, seemingly ready for combat, but they were cut short of their initiative by some of the most angry gods, who mobbed them as soon as they tried to step forward. I ducked to my counter, objects flying everywhere, and soon , I saw the three being punted outside, screaming threats and whatnot. After a while, the guests themselves started fixing what they broke, repairing chairs and reforming glass mugs. Soon, the place was normal again, maybe livelier than before, as the gods who participated in the brawl were boasting to each other. I was happy to serve them and listen to their stories, but a part of me was worried. I knew it wasn't the last I'll hear from the dudes. Maybe I'll have to throw my smartphone away. Who knows what the business man did to it." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 900-1000 words. Prompt: A scientifically accurate Zombie Apocalypse." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I fell into the chair and sighed for the millionth time this day. FML! Normally I'd be looking forward for the weekend by now. But I wasn't going to have any of this. My day was reduced to sleep-eat-work-repeat. I haven't left the company building since last week Tuesday. This all was just too much.\n\nIt all started a few weeks ago. I work in a company that does research on cancer treatment. We had some major breakthroughs the last year, including symbiotic bacteria that would eat cancerous cells. We were combating nature with nature for this one. And it was working most of the time. Occasionally the immune system would attack the bacteria and you would get some nasty inflammation. But since we only worked on rather hopeless patients, it didn't matter a lot. If we knew what nature was about to do to our treatment, we'd have canceled it. Burned the research. But now it was too late.\n\n3 weeks ago we received the information, that one of our patients was back on the ICU, suspected stroke. Well, that happens. The cancer looked good through. Then, one night, the patient broke out of the ICU, beating up two nurses and the doctor rushing for help. He just walked out of the door. Police tried to find him, but no success. We still didn't suspect anything. But that was the beginning. This guy was our patient zero. For whatever reason our bacteria decided to do a full 180 turn and eat something else than cancer cells. The brain.\n\nA colleague entered my room probably seeing me return to my office: \"Ah, Mr. Lead Scientist still busy?\". He laughed. I smiled. We were all sitting in the same boat. It was years of working together and knowing each other that prevented us from going insane in here.\n\n\"Well, I have a lot of time right now, you see...\" I sighed. \"Okay, what's the deal. Do you have some results?\"\n\n\"Indeed\" my colleague continued. \"We've analyzed transmission ways of the plague. I have good news and bad news.\"\n\n\"Good ones first please, I could really use some\"\n\n\"The good news is, there is basically no air transmission. Unless you directly breath out of the mouth of an infected, you are safe. Also it seems like transmission is not possible before symptom begin. Bacteria concentrations are much too low in early days. Interactions with normal people are therefore little to no threat.\"\n\nHe paused, as I took notes. \"And the bad ones?\"\n\n\"Well, all other bodily fluids work very well. Saliva, Blood, even excrements. We have not observed any sneezing or coughing, so infected keep their fluids close. However, given that those things bite ... you are pretty much doomed if that happens\"\n\nI finish writing my notes. \"Okay, this is pretty much what I expected, thanks for confirming. This is at least a little relief for now\". If the bacteria were transmittable by air, there was little to no way of stopping this. That'd probably be the end of the human race as we know it. But with this, we had a chance. A chance to not go extinct or become homo erectus again.\n\n\"I have some more information. We count 2329 confirmed cases worldwide. True number probably higher as with any plague. Some people are apparently recovering but will likely suffer permanent brain damage. There is a press conference in 30 minutes in the lobby. The boss wants you to present our results. If you are too tired I can take over.\"\n\n\"Thanks for your offer, but I'm afraid this is my job indeed.\" I quickly scratched together some notes and got ready to talk to the world. The sight of a clearly sleep deprived professor surely wasn't what you would want to see on your TV. But humanity was in deep trouble. Those infected with the bacteria didn't just get their brains devoured. That'd be a more or less painless death, albeit slow. Instead, it only attacked those parts of the brain that were responsible for higher functionality. Like speech, memory, logic, high intelligence, everything that makes us human.\n\nAs a result, those infected could hardly be described as humans. The public calls them \"The Zombies\". Kind of fitting. They weren't walking rotting corpses, but still, the humanity in those bodies was gone. Humans reduced to primitive behavior. I had seen some of them as they tore them into the lab to study. They were behaving like animals, biting, punching, making weird noises. And most worryingly, hunting for food. They were biting anything that wasn't getting out of their way. And this wasn't like in the movies with them being slower than a sloth. These things ran at considerable speeds and worked together.\n\nWhile they lacked thinking, the bacteria seemed to stimulate muscle growth, making those infected stronger that before. Not like superman strong, but strong enough that they'll give you a bad time in combat. They were also completely unresponsive to any sort of damage. You could hit them in the balls, absolutely no response. Pain receptors dead. They didn't even notice when they were bleeding out. At least that made one way to combat them. Aim for the legs. Try to damage major blood vessels. That were our tips for the public in case of an encounter.\n\nI finish my speech and walk back into the lab, even more exhausted than before. I had spent the week drafting out of a few ways how to defeat these bacteria. There was no way to cure fully infected, can't undo the brain damage. Those have to be eliminated as fast as possible. But some narrowed down antibiotics could do the job in the earlier stages. Maybe vaccines are also possible. But we have to keep researching on this. Normally a process that takes years. We will still try to get everything done in a week. To secure our race. Hopefully." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: Just because you're a slutty bunny girl, you can't have numerous degrees?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A smile slowly ran into Alice's lips. She watched as Sarah tried to properly articulate her rage.\n\n“It’s sexist!” shouted Sarah, stomping her foot as punctuation.\n\n“So? Someone needs to be in the kitchen and girls have smaller feet.” said Marcus, wearing a shit eating grin the whole time.\n\n“You can’t just… assign? Set?...”\n\n“Relegate.” offered Alice.\n\n“...Relegate women to the kitchen.” finished Sarah, her face scowling. Any sense of outrage the girl wore was dispersed by the bunny ears and one piece suit she… and most of the girls wore. Alice perched on the end of the couch, watching the two break decorum.\n\n“Most households have two people in them, it makes sense for individuals to specialise…” said Marcus, looking around the ring of onlookers to see a few concede the point with a shrug or nod. “...so girls should specialise in the kitchen because they are not as smart.”\n\nAlice tried to pull her face into a serious expression, it was clear he was winding Sarah up, clear to all but Sarah and a few uncomfortable looking men.\n\n“Girls are just as smart as men!”\n\n“Why don’t we play chess and find out?” offered Marcus.\n\nSarah balked, there was a chessboard, it was one of ‘those’ kind of parties. The men were drinking glasses of scotch and she had seen more than one cigar. They wore suits while Alice and her fellow ‘entertainment’ wore bunny suits.\n\n“Chess doesn’t show who is-” started Sarah but Alice knew the argument wouldn’t hold up… while it was all fun and games, to all but Sarah, her gender /was/ on the line.\n\n“I’ll play you.” said Alice.\n\nMarcus’ sharp eyes snapped to her. Alice’s confidence wavered for a moment, like she had offered to answer a question in class and when called on, suddenly wasn't sure she was in the right school. She shook off the feeling and challenged him back, locking eyes with his.\n\n“Ah… we have a bunny of culture.” he said, gesturing toward an arrangement of chairs around a chessboard that until now had served as a surface for ashtrays and drinks. Alice stepped to his arm, twining it into hers and forcing him into the role of escorting her. A blush rose into his smile for a moment as he led her over. He gestured to a chair for her.\n\n“A bunny girl doesn’t sit sir, she perches.” said Alice, realising half the party had migrated to watch their duel and see the outcome of Marcus’ shitstirring.\n\nAlice guided him into the chair and perched against the arm, fluffy tail lingering by his hand. Marcus set up the pieces, aligning black infront of himself.\n\n“You can be white.”\n\n“What a gentleman.”\n\n“More of a, ‘ladies first’.” he said. Alice wouldn't rise to the bait. She rose and bent at the hips in front of him to set forward her pawn.\n\n“Gosh, I hope I remember how to play.”\n\nMarcus and Alice traded moves quickly, it was obvious she was setting up a Sicilian defence. Any illusions that she wasn’t descent at chess vanished in her rapid movements.\n\nMarcus sat considering his move once they were off the books.\n\nAlice stepped around the board to rest by his arm once more. Legs straight and back arched beside him. He didn’t blush or even glance at her attire.\n\n“Queen to C3.” she said.\n\nMarcus smiled, moving her piece and stroking his chin.\n\n“I think it’s clear you know at least a little chess.”\n\n“Oh not much Sir, it is a man's game after all.”\n\nSarah sat in one of the chairs, wrinkling the bodysuit she wore around her waist as she hunched forward, trying to decipher the board.\n\n“Who is winning?” she asked.\n\n“Alice.” said Marcus.\n\n“Marcus is winning actually.”\n\n“She has taken more of my pieces.”\n\n“He has mine locked down, that rook is doing nothing for me.”\n\nMarcus eyed Sarah sitting in the chair adjacent. “Apparently bunny girls can sit, would you like to?”\n\n“Such a gentleman.” said Alice, slipping off the arm of his chair and sitting in his lap, curling against his side, breasts pushed up in the corset to linger by his cheek.\n\n“If I didn’t know any better I would say you were trying to distract me.”\n\n“I wouldn’t resort to trickery, besides we haven’t really bet anything on the outcome… bishop to D4.”\n\n“What do you want if you win?”\n\n“For you to say a girl's place is wherever she wants to be.”\n\n“And if I win?”\n\n“Well you win me of course, we are going by traditional rules here.”\n\nMarcus smirked and leaned forward to move her bishop.\n\n“Careful Alice, he could secretly be really good at chess.” said Sarah, apparently the only one not in on the joke.\n\nThe pieces whittled down and Alice grew comfortable in his lap. Bringing his hand around to her hip, whispering her moves into his ear. She could see the pieces closing around her, she was always 4 moves away from checkmating him but had to keep fighting on the backfoot to keep her own king upright. Marcus held his rook, this was it, he had outplayed her fair and square. Alice arched into his side, enjoying the feeling of his fingers over the bare skin of her hip. Marcus’ hand lingered on the piece, his smile mirroring hers then switched, taking her queen instead of going for checkmate.\n\nAlice’s heart sank. “Bishop to E5, check.”\n\n“Rook takes bishop.” he responded without bothering to move the pieces.\n\n“Knight checks king, checkmate.”\n\n“Huh… I guess I was wrong.” said Marcus with a smirk, leaning forward to knock over his king. “I guess a girl's place is wherever she wants to be after all.”\n\nAlice narrowed her eyes as the onlookers started to fall away.\n\n“You cheater.”\n\nMarcus met her gaze and glanced down at her breasts, pushed up and bursting beside him. “You’re one to talk… also you won.”\n\n“You had me.” she said low enough for Sarah not to hear.\n\n“I prefer to win that particular game the old fashioned way, we should get back to the party.”\n\n“You said a girl's place is wherever she wants to be, I prefer here.” said Alice, wriggling down into his lap." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You have been teleported back in time to the Middle Ages. All you brought with you was a printed out version of Wikipedia in its entirety. Who are you, where are you, what do you do and why?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Boxes upon boxes upon boxes. On last estimate, before the teleportation, there were 3000 volumes, stacked ten to a box. Three hundred cardboard boxes filled with the entirety of the contents of Wikipedia. In the middle of the woods. At least I'd landed at a crossroads. A wooden sign posted at the fork in the road pointed in the direction of the southbound fork: \"London\". No distance indicated.\n\nI was supposed to have been transported to the Windsor Castle courtyard, circa 1440, because, according to the Professor, that particular location ensured the highest likelihood of survival of the texts. I'd argued that we should have picked another location, just to see how the world turned out if some other group received information from the future.\n\nImagine, I told him: If I'd been transported to Mexico to make contact with a pre-columbian civilization, like the Mayans, what sort of advancements could they make before conquistadors landed? How would that change the scope of history?\n\nMy argument had been rebuked quickly: \"The language barrier will be overcome more quickly if you go to England. They will recognize the importance of the texts, and there will be a lower likelihood that our work will be destroyed.\"\n\nThunder rumbled over head, dark clouds filled the sky. I glanced at the boxes. If only we had the foresight to put our books in plastic tubs rather than cardboard. I had no idea where I was, and didn't necessarily want to leave three hundred boxes of world history and human achievement at a crossroads in medieval England.\n\nI grabbed a box marked: \"Decades: 18th Century BC-21st Century AD\". Each article was about significant events in world history during that particular decade. I had a good enough working knowledge of history to advise a king on how some battles in the coming years would play out, as well as the global geopolitical impact it would have. Or, at the very least I could bluff it. If that was the only box I could save, perhaps it was the one that could have the most impact.\n\nThe Professor had told me to save, if worst came to worst, the information on vaccines and theoretical physics. Theoretical physics, I was okay with saving, but I didn't want to trigger a malthusian crisis before its time so while vaccines were on my priority list, they weren't at the top of the list. Besides, this wasn't the worst. It was just rain.\n\nLightning flashed, snapping me out of my reverie. I started down he path towards London. Hopefully I could find someone to help move all of these boxes before it really started pouring.\n\nThick wet drops of rain splattered all around me as I walked. Was there no one out here? Finally, after a few minutes of walking, I heard the sound of not one, but many hoofbeats.\n\nA cadre of soldiers on horseback came over the horizon. Their banners bore the white rose of the House of York. The leader of the cadre made a command for them to stop.\n\n\"Hello! I shouted to them, dropping my box excitedly. \"Can you help me? What year is it?\"\n\nThe man leading the cadre looked down at me. I couldn't make out his face through his armored helm. \"1440, year of our lord. Who are you?\"\n\n\"My name's Cassandra.\" I told them. \"Please, let me show you something.\" I took a book out of the box marked on the cover \"1300-1600.\" \"I have knowledge that may be of use to you. Knowledge of world events past, present and future. All I ask is that you help me move it. I mean you no harm.\" I handed him the book, hoping that he was literate.\n\nHe opened the book to the first page, and studied it. After a few seconds, he looked back up at me. \"I can only understand half of this. What use does this have to me.\"\n\n\"Knowledge of history, present events, science, arts. A man who holds the contents of these boxes will have knowledge that his neighbors don't. Knowledge is power.\"\n\n\"Where are these boxes?\"\n\n\"Just a little way up the road, sir. Do you have a name I may call you?\"\n\n\"Richard of York, third Duke of the House of York, and Lord Protector of the Crown of England.\"\n\n\"Thank you, My lord,\" I slipped into courtesy. \"I hope you will find these boxes most helpful.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Everyday as you jog your route you pass an abandoned house with a stone dragon guarding the entrance. You rub its snout for luck. Today, something scratched your finger. A drop of blood, and a gleam in the dragon's eye." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sam enjoyed a routine. He took his break at noon on the dot every day. He'd jog the same route every day; going from the entrance of his office, along the riverside, past the houses. He'd pause momentarily halfway through the housing district, at the rundown mansion with the two stone dragons at the entrance to its ivy covered estate. He'd always liked the dragons. They were almost untouched by time, their smooth stone scales unmarred by scratches, the poison ivy only covering their long tails that wrapped the pillars they sat upon.\n\nHe always gives the one to the right of the gate a scratch between its eye ridges, and strokes the left one starting from its forehead down to the end of its snout. Sam would then sit down between the guarding dragons to eat his lunch, before jogging back to his office and returning to work.\n\nThis time, however, Sam was interrupted as he stroked the second dragon, feeling a sharp pang in the palm of his hand as he reached the end of the dragon's snout. He drew back, startled, and saw the dragon's eyes sparkle. He stared at his hand, which was bleeding, then looked back to the dragon, which had drawn its stone lips back, revealing long and pointed fangs, white as marble, except for the bright red stain of Sam's fresh-drawn blood.\n\nHe pulled a napkin from his bag, and gripped it tightly in his right hand, before pulling his phone from his pocket with his left and dialing his office.\n\n\"You've reached Samson Insurance, Sam's not in his offoce right now, is there a way I can help you today?\" The chipper voice at the other end was definitely his assistant, Rose.\n\n\"Hey Rose, Sam here. Please cancel all my appointments for today, I need to go to the hospital. \" Sam watched the stone dragon, unable to break eye contact as its long tail uncurled from the pillar, snapping the encroaching ivy covering it.\n\n\"Oh no! Do you want me to call ahead to the hospital for you, sir?\" Rose's voice was still chipper, but was now slightly tinged with worry. The other stone dragon seemed to be coming to life now too, considerably slower than the leftmost one, which was creeping towards Sam, tail high and head low.\n\n\"No, no.\" Sam said hastily. \"I'm walking over there right now, I can handle it.\"\n\nHe held his phone to his ear with his shoulder, and reached into his bag for another napkin, as the first was already drenched. He tossed the bloody napkin into the bushes, and the leftmost dragon suddenly started moving. Sam jumped in suprise, dropping his phone to the sidewalk with a clatter, causing the screen to crack. The dragon had bolted after the napkin, and was now burrowing its way through the bushes looking for it.\n\nHis hands shaking, Sam retrieved his phone from the ground and, speaking over Rose's now frantic questions, said, \"I'm fine Rose, I'm fine. I was just startled by a, uh. . .\" What could he say? It's not like everyone saw stone dragons move, ever. \"A raccoon. . .\" He finished lamely.\n\n\"A raccoon?\" Rose asked. \"Are you sure you'll be ok, sir? It's not that busy right now and I could-\"\n\n\"Thank you, Rose.\" Sam interrupted her quickly. \"But I'm ok.\" The dragon had sat up in the bushes, its muzzle now speckled with red. Had it eaten ths napkin? Gross.\n\n\"I had better get going to the hospital, now. Goodbye, Rose.\" He hung up after Rose's hasty farewell, and looked from the left dragon to the right, they were both standing upright now, watching Sam just as he watched them.\n\n\"I'm crazy.\" Sam said aloud, after several long minutes passed. \"Stone sculptures can't move.\"\n\nThe dragon on the right laughed, a low guttural noise that reminded him of a hyena's cackle. \"Sculptures can't move.\" It said, its voice low and gravelly.\n\nThe left one spoke next, its voice lighter, but still sounding like the creature was gargling rocks. \"But dragons can.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Aliens attempt to conqure earth, but did not plan on humans evolutionary advantage: supreme endurance." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "July 13, 2029... Today was a turning point for the war. We finally found a weakness within the enemy, its just like ancient times. When we didnt have the tools to conquer our enemies or our prey, we would chase. We wouldnt chase like a cheetah, but like a pack of wolves who refused to leave. We would nip and wear out our target, run when there might be danger, but always to return before they can catch their breathe. We kite and attack, kite and attack. We're currently radioing all remaining resistances to adopt this strategy.\n\nAugust 21, 2029... I've noticed a change within their ranks. At first when they fought us they looked like immortal warriors. While we might've taken a couple on in the beginning, we would lose dozens of soldiers for each of theirs we would take out. Not though, now they have something that resembles fear. Something that looks human. They've adopted new formations in a poor attempt to counter our new strategy, it doesnt work. We've been playing the long con, we'll open fire and immediately run and reposition before they can return fire. Sometimes a simple firefight between squads will last almost an hour. They used to take minutes, and we've noticed what its done. They cant maintain their stamina like we can, their guns get heavy, they cant keep their normal movements, they start to move slow and their reactions become slower. Eventually they either are worn through and our weapons finally penetrate their armor, or they collapse in exhaustion, allowing us to get up close to use our melee weapons to negate their armor.\n\nDecember 3, 2029... They no longer send out squads like they used to, they now employ 3 squads paired along with something that resembles a supply truck. It emits heat to keep them from freezing, it keeps their energy up and provides cover so they dont collapse from exhaustion. But it only takes one. One mine, one rocket, one grenade. Its all it takes to destroy these vehicles, unlike their troops they are slow and are large targets. Their movements are predictable, something we can easily take out. The troops moral is tied along with these things as well. Everytime we take one out we can see that fear appear in their expressions. We use this to our advantage, we've started to laugh as a group each time. We know we have won the fight at that point, the expression thats given when you can hear our laughter erupt from every direction. They know they're surrounded, it doesnt matterif there are 5 or 35 of them. We can do the same if they can resupply. They cant run because of our traps, they cant fight because of our tactics. They are trapped, to die amongst our ruins.\n\nFebruary 16, 2030... Their ships have finally fallen. We were able to use their own weapons agaisnt them, they never planned for this. They never planned to lose. Now they are trapped, trapped on a foreign planet. A place where they are not the apex predator, a place where the enemy could be anywhere, a place where the enemy never seems to sleep, a place where they know they will die. For we are the terrors that haunt their dreams.\n\n-Lt. Colonel Jon \"Jonneyfive\" Baker 1996 - 2092, Journal entries from the first war." } ]