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BintangFortuna

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Bintang Fortuna 2

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: Hunched over, a shadowy figure clutches its heart. \"Is this what it's like to feel?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "EU (Bleach)\n\nArrancar\n\n...\n\nHe remembered wandering across empty streets the day after his funeral. He wandered, following the detective that had investigated his murder. He walked silently beside his hearse and watched his mother cry as she lit incense by his grave.\n\n\"Can you hear me?\"\n\nHis wife left a bouquet of white chrysanthemums by his grave. She came frequently to his grave. Then less frequently.\n\n\"Do you know I still feel?\"\n\nShe stopped coming at all.\n\nHe saw her with his murderer. He watched them walk through parks and talk over candlelit dinners. He felt himself grow dull and thin on the inside.\n\nHe felt less somehow.\n\nHe felt nothing at all.\n\nHis soul fractured into dark fragments and his 'body' reformed into something entirely new. He was an animal now- something vaguely canine, something less than human. He didn't care.\n\nA deep yawning hunger grew inside him- Hollow.\n\nYes. He was Hollow.\n\nIt felt liberating. It felt painful. He gorged on every soul that came across his path. He waited in cemeteries for lonely living souls to pass by and devoured them in the dead of night with no regret.\n\nHe grew stronger, emptier with each soul he devoured. He dared to leave the cemetery and roam into the open streets, an invisible great beast that glided through the populous, unknowing crowds.\n\n\"Daddy?\"\n\nA familiar voice. He heard it one day in a park. He hid in the shadows, trailing after a frail, weak soul.\n\n'Daddy...' what did it mean? He remembered something, a memory from long ago.\n\nHe saw his wife, sitting in the park by his murderer's side. He saw his daughter running to his murderer's arms. He raised a clawed limb, wanting to rip and tear and devour.\n\nBut his daughter was smiling.\n\nHe saw her smiling. A child's smile. An innocent smile. He wondered if she even knew about him. She had only just been born when he had shrugged his mortal form.\n\nA pain grew in his chest, somehow less empty, somehow more heavy. He clutched at it, unwilling to let it pass even though it hurt. He remembered something he'd forgotten a long time ago.\n\n\"Is this...what it's like to feel?\"\n\nHe held it with him as he left the park. He didn't want to let the thought go even though it felt like it was burning him from the inside out. He fled into a deep dark forest somewhere near but far away. He slept in a silent place, clawing at the animal face he bore- it no longer fit him. It was no longer him.\n\nHe could not want to be a simple beast anymore.\n\nThe thought burnt his insides, searing his flesh. It felt like he was breaking apart all over again. But he held on to that innocent smile.\n\nIt seemed like a long time. It felt like an eternity of pain. Eventually, he rose from where he had slept and felt that he had his own face again. His body was almost the same too.\n\nHe was a broken vase, put together again in a vaguely similar way.\n\nHe was not Hollow anymore. His emptiness was gone. What was he now...yes, he had removed his own emptiness. He felt flickers of emotion budding in his soul, gluing the broken fragments of himself together.\n\n\"Arrancar...\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: Bounty hunters follow you to an old mining town in the desert. You rush into the old gold mine, but when you turn on the oil lantern, you find the reason it's a ghost town..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "My breath is coming in short, and heavy gasps as sweat runs down my back like a drunkard running to the bar for the first time in days. A shot 'a whiskey sounds pretty good right about now. Sitting at a table, in the shade, with a girl on my hip and whiskey bottle in my hand! Oh, what I'd give to be there instead 'a here in this flamin' hot ghost town.\n\n\"Last chance, Dunn! Come on out now, and we'll let you live. At least, for now.\"\n\nShaking myself from my daydream, I check my six-shooter on my hip - fully loaded. I have enough extra shots on me for another round. Sliding the gun back in its holster, I pick up my rifle. She's a good 'n sturdy bolt action marksman rifle with four shots left. Better make 'em count.\n\n\"Last chance, cow pies! Y'all just turn around and ride back home, and I won't fill your head with metal.\"\n\nIt's unbelievable. You shoot a man in the foot, and two days later, he'll be buying ya drinks. You kill a man's cattle, and he just asks for a little compensation. Hell, I've burned a man's barn down accidently once, and all he did was tell me I'd have to help rebuild it! But you bed the wrong lady just once, and this is what you get. Chased halfway across the desert because some filthy rich uptight penny-pincher doesn't aprove of his girl's late night company. How was I supposed to know she was the mayor's wife? She sure didn't have any ring on her finger!\n\n\"Shame. You were worth more alive.\"\n\nThe sound of twelve revolvers all blowing through shabby wooden walls is not something I ever found myself laughing at. The sound of twelve revolvers blowing through the wrong building, though - that's enough to almost make me dance.\n\nShooting to my feet, I aim my rifle at the first head I see. One shot, one kill. Dropping again behind the counter of an ancient bar, I hear a few shot rip through the air above me. Peaking over the bar again, my shot escorts another bounty hunter to the grave.\n\nI hear wood scrap against itself and glass shatter behind me. They're finding cover. One of them is barking orders, but the intermittent gun shots drown out the words.\n\nBut not his voice.\n\nOnce more, I slide above the counter, taking a wild shot in the direction of the leader. A scream tells me I hit something, but another shout tells me it's not who I wanted.\n\nThe side door of the bar flies open just down the counter, and my rifle whips around to take one hunter through the chest and another through the shoulder. Last shot on the rifle.\n\nChucking my rifle through the back window, I leap out of the bar, landing on plenty of sharp, broken glass, but my blood is rushing so fast I hardly notice it as I dash away from the town. Just across the way is a small mine. It looks in about the same condition as the town, but it will have to work.\n\nDiving into the cave, with my hand on my hat and a curse on my lips, I hear more bullets fly past me as one catches me in the arm. Stumbling upright, I sun deeper into the cave until I can't see my hand in front of my face. The cave reeks like an infected wound, but I keep forging on.\n\nThe sounds of my pursuers follow me for a short way, but as the light falls away, their ruckus does too. The hollers about lanterns and torches follow me a while longer yet, but that soon settles into a vacant echoing noise, too.\n\nRounding another of at least three turns, I finally take a second to breathe. Fumbling around in the darkness earns me a few cracks on the shins and noggin, and the floor is riddled with old helmets and fallen rocks, tripping me up with every step, but nothing I haven't walked off before.\n\nRipping off my shirt sleeve, I start wrapping my arm, tying it as tight as I can with one arm and my teeth in the dark.\n\nThe darkness is so complete that not even my hand is visible two inches from my face. Grabbing for my match box, I strike a match. The light is next to nothing, but even that is better than nothing at all.\n\nLighting one match after another, I wander the tunnels of the mine until I stumble across an old oil lantern. I hardly dare breathe as I try to light the dusty thing, and I\n\nI scream when the light finally catches.\n\nLittering the tunnel floor are the skeletons of long dead miners. Bite marks cover the bones, mostly from rats. But some have marks that are far more... human.\n\nSwinging around, I practically fly back out the tunnel the way I came. A feeling of dread is sinking into my soul with every step. My light almost makes me more uneasy than anything else, but I don't plan on putting it out. Down every branching tunnel, I swear I see tiny eyes catch the light of my constantly creaking lantern.\n\nAs I near the mines entrance, a scream echoes from behind me. I see a light round the corner far down the tunnel, it swinging in haphazardly as the person carrying it stumbles over bones he too seems to have just discovered.\n\n\"RUN!\" His shout shakes my very soul as a shadowy figure pounces from behind the man, tackling him to the ground. A sickening pop bounces its way down the tunnel walls to me as the lantern the man had snuffs out.\n\nI hardly even think as I start dashing for the light at the end of the tunnel. A blood curdling screech follows me as I escape, and as I fall stumbling out of the cave and into the light of day again, I see two green eyes staring into my bones, sitting just outside the reach of the sun.\n\nStanding up once again, I start running to where my hunters had tied up their horses. Grabbing one by the reins, I barely notice the stallions jet black coat that's been well maintained despite the nasty land, I hop into its saddle and whip it into a gallop in the direction of the next town. The last guy won't need this horse anyway." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: It's 2132, society around the world has devolced into tribes and warlords fighting each other for resources and for survival. As you scavenge an old military complex, you bump into a computer and a large screen on the wall flashes... and you are greeted by it's previously dormant A.I." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lance took careful steps beneath the overhanging greenery. The corridor he was walking down was partially submerged in shallow water. Vines and moss grew aplenty between the gaps in the damaged ceiling, allowing pockets of sunlight to illuminate the space. Occasionally, something small and silvery swam past his boots in the murky water but Lance ignored it, treading ever deeper into the facility.\n\nLance paused at a junction, withdrawing a chain from his neck. The amulet hanging from the chain was a closed loop, a mobius strip. A faint flash of light shone past its metallic surface as Lance closed his eyes, touching it against his lips.\n\n“Merciful Star, illuminate my way.”\n\nIt glowed, inside his mind’s eye. Lance saw the path ahead and continued as best he could. It wasn’t easy going this deep. Some of the original paths and corridors had been eroded by time, sinking into the swampy waters or collapsing under rotten walls. Lance repeated the process a few times to get his bearings.\n\nAt last, he entered a great hall bearing a single spherical structure floating in the centre of the chamber.\n\nLance observed the sphere carefully, walking around it once. Certainly it was unusual to see a floating rock, and one that was so perfectly spherical as well. It was probably Golden Era tech though, that was usually the answer when one came across a relic that couldn’t be explained.\n\n“Is this it?” Lance murmured to himself, unimpressed, “My answer…?” he pulled the amulet off his neck, letting the tiny fragment of metal rest in his palm, “Is that all the Merciful Star can do for a sinner like me?”\n\nLance almost grinned. The amulet didn’t respond but Lance hadn’t hoped for much anyway. He’d only observed it being used by the Red Priests to locate Golden Era relics. Sadly, there had been no handy instruction manual lying around when he’d stolen it.\n\nLance walked up to the sphere with a careless grin and touched its surface lightly with a hand, giving it a little pat. He raised a brow as the sphere suddenly lit up. Lance stepped back cautiously, amulet dangling from his hand protectively. A series of letters ran across its surface. Lance sighed in annoyance. Not being able to read Old Script was inconvenient, but what was he supposed to do, join the Red Priests? Or worse, the Golden Army? Sacrifice his freedom and a chunk of his brain for knowledge?\n\n“Merciful star, guide my understanding.”\n\nThe amulet glowed, spinning in the air and quite suddenly, Lance heard an electronic, toneless voice inside his head.\n\n‘Bioscan: 98.99% genetic match, species: Human-unknown. Access-level: Divinity. Approval: Green.’\n\n“Green…?” Lance shrugged, “I’m assuming that’s a good thing, yes?”\n\nThe voice in his head actually replied him, ‘Access to internal files approved. Authority designated: User 003. Please indicate query.’\n\nThere was one question Lance wanted answered. He had heard that there was a relic in this place that could answer any question it was given. It seemed the rumours were somewhat true. Lance smiled. Perhaps things were finally going his way.\n\n“Is it possible to bring the dead back to life?” Lance asked the spherical relic.\n\nLance waited. Many characters flashed on the surface of the sphere, swirling and calculating incessantly. He even felt that the temperature in the chamber had increased a little as the sphere continued to flash.\n\n“I just need a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’,” Lance murmured.\n\nThe sphere’s characters faded into darkness. After a moment new text began to scroll on its surface and the voice in his head spoke:\n\n“Answer: No. Accuracy estimate: 99.98%”\n\nLance breathed out a smile, “So there is a chance…I knew it…0.02% huh?”\n\nThe sphere was silent. After a moment, it added, “Statement: Life is a finite function.”\n\n“Well you aren’t 100% sure of that, are you?” Lance replied, “Ever heard the saying ‘you won’t know unless you try’?”\n\n“Statement: You won’t know even if you try.”\n\nLance shook his head, “I don’t need to convince a mere relic,” he muttered to himself. He turned to leave. He’d already gotten what he came for after all. As he left, the sphere darkened behind him, abruptly dropping to the ground, cracks shattering on its surface. Lance jumped at the sound, swearing as he nearly got pelted by a piece of falling metal.\n\n“This place is falling apart,” he grumbled.\n\n‘Facility 03-45 was constructed in AD 2045 under the blessing of the Merciful Sun-‘\n\nLance rubbed his temple, “Are you still in my head? Close access. Remove authority. Damn it.”\n\n‘Vessel transfer completed 4.46 seconds ago. Quote: This place is falling apart.’\n\n“Great, I’ve got a smarmy ancient relic in my head now, huh?” Lance sighed, “Can you still answer questions?”\n\n‘Approval: Green.’\n\nLance shrugged and then continued making his way out, “Hmph, at least you’re useful then. Whatever. I guess you may as well come with me and see where that 0.02% works out…”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Every year after 18, every human must roll dice and if they get snake eyes they die." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "My brother and I were always a team. From the moment we both came out of the womb, we couldn't be split apart. That was until we- I mean he got famous.\n\nAt 10 years old we got into music. Jazz was our thing. I wrote the songs, he sang every word. Our names Morticai and Jones were all that the world talked about. \"The youngest Jazz band in our generation\" they used to say. But like most media, the performer was the one that got the most attention.\n\nI love to write music. I can sing just as well as my twin Morticai, but singing doesn't make me feel as free as writing. Expressing my own feelings, instead of saying someone else's. My brothers passion was to sing and I let him. I didn't mind. But I did notice him changing with each albums sold.\n\nIt became less about Morticai and Jones and more of JUST Morticai. It got to his head, and he started becoming an asshole when we both turned 15. And for three years he had a big head on his shoulders. Who could blame him? He got invited to interviews, late night shows, and won those awards. I guess you can say that got to my head as well. I started to hate him. Never once did he say thank you to me when I wrote those damn songs people know him for. It's fucking ridiculous!\n\nBut then our 18th birthday came up. We both knew what we had to do. The world was scared that they would lose Morticai. Despite knowing we were twins and that both of is needed to go in the same room. He didn't care about the dice though. We didn't know anyone personally that got snake eyes.\n\nA man in a black coat came into the room after we were strapped to a chair. He carried various medical equipment.\n\nAfter hooking us up to the venom, he grabbed the dice from his pocket. \"Who wants to go first?\" He said. I was feeling luck so I took the dice. I was born first so it seemed fair.\n\nI threw the dice on the ground and they spun, clicked, and clacked for what felt like hours. Then their motion came to a rest. A 3 and a 2. Cool.\n\nThen is was my brothers turn. The moment the dice were in his hands I could see his eyes. For once in his life he was worried. The situation got to him. But he couldn't back out now. So with all his might he threw the dice down and almost instantly the dice read:\n\n1-1\n\nWithout hesitation, the man in the coat activated the venom, and my brother shook violently.\n\nHe couldn't mutter out a single word.\n\nAll that was heard was the squeeking of the chair, then silence.\n\nMy dead twin brother, the performer, was gone.\n\nI wanted to cry. But I couldn't. If I died he wouldn't care, or at least that's what I felt.\n\n\"What is your name?\" The man in the coat asked.\n\nThat's when I took advantage of it all. This one moment changed my image forever.\n\n\"I'm Morticai.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: You’re a long forgotten god. Today, a solitary teenage girl left a piece of candy at your shrine, & you woke up. Now, you must do everything in your power in order to protect your new High Priestess, the solitary girl, and your new worshippers, her supportive younger brother & her pet axolotl." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Everything was going fine and normal in the inky depths of the Deep Void. Imps were making their daily commute to earth, rookie daemons were picking new witches to posses, and Yahweh was still throwing rocks at the earth, hoping that Jupiter wouldn't intercept them. Zazyn, however, was panicking right now. He had been mostly forgotten for millennia, and was still very much enjoying the luxury of an early retirement, slowly eating away at his bank account of souls until he decided to start his career back up in a couple centuries, but it turned out that Fate had different plans for him. At three in the morning, (because apparently humans think all Devils are insomniacs,) his phone had started buzzing like crazy, and when he rolled over to check, the last thing he expected to see was a \"New Follower! :3\" notification from the universe itself. He quickly jumped out of bed and threw on a fairly nice suit, had all the necessary info faxed to him, and took off running to earth. As he bolted across the Ethereal Warp, he went over all the necessary information about his new High Priestess. \"Eva Newing, 19 years old, lives in LA,\" he muttered to himself. \"Because of course the only new daemon worshipper would live in LA. Satan's asscrack, who the fuck even worships daemons anymore?\" As he approached the portal, he tried to pull himself together into the proper \"high-and-mighty\" deity that he is. He took a deep breath, and stepped through the portal. The first thing he noticed when he walked through was the smell. Contrary to what he expected, it smelled nice, which meant that it was definitely not in LA, or at least not the city proper. That was good. It meant that his new priestess at least had the common sense to summon him somewhere secluded. The second thing he noticed was all the candles. \"That must be why it smells nice,\" he thought, before looking down, and seeing a truly grisly sight. He was standing in a pile of gore, almost up to his knees. He would have gagged if he had a mouth, but this form didnt seem to. Before he could properly process what was happening, a girl in a crimson robe stepped forward out of the shadows. She would have been tall for a human, but seemed short to Zazyn. She pulled back her hood to reveal traditional human light brown skin, blonde hair, and startling greenish yellow eyes. \"We have awaited your arrival for a long time, oh great omnipotent one.\" While speaking, she fell onto her knees and began to bow to him, much to his great disgust. \"We will continue to serve you until our last breathe. You are our only reason for life, just as you give it, oh glorious one. We-\" Zazyn told her to stop and give him some time to think. \"What is wrong, my lord?\" She asked, clearly confused. Another cult member walked in then, wearing the same crimson cloak, and holding a glass container with a green axolotl for some reason. Zazyn sighed, and said \"First off, why the hell am I standing in a pile of organs?\" They both seemed to grow considerably more confused at this, giving each other a quizzical look, before the boy spoke up, slightly stuttering. \"We... thought the human sacrifices were what attracted you. Are they not?\" At this, Zazyn nearly altered his physical form just so he could have the ability to puke. \"Of course not! Nice food and shit attracts me! Not bloodshed! I'm not Khorne for fuck's sake!\" Both of the humans seemed to be terrified at this sudden outburst, but staged where they stood. \"Then... what does attract you? What did we do right?\" The girl said. Zazyn searched around at his feet until he found a single Jolly Rancher stuck between two stone bricks on the floor. \"This.\" He said, brandishing the cherry flavoured candy to the two acolytes. \"This attracted me. Not the needless violence. I'm the god of food. Drink. Revelry. You could have just dropped an empty bottle of beer at my shrine and it would've counted to call me here.\" The girl (who Zazyn was now sure was Eva) and her (presumably) brother looked at the candy with a strange look for a few seconds, before the brother spoke again. \"So, you're not going to help us destroy our enemies? You aren't going to smite the heretics?\" Zazyn was flabbergasted. In the past, he was just summoned to help people have a good time. Whether it was turning a well into a spring of natural wine, or just producing some condoms for a drunk couple, he was never asked to harm anyone. \"And I assumed the Romans were the weirdest I was going to have to deal with...\" he thought to himself. He considered this for a second, the pleading looks of the siblings boring into his head. \"Fine.\" He finally said. \"I signed the contract. I agreed to this. I suppose there's nothing I can really do to get out of it.\" He could see their eyes light up as he said this.\n\n\"What do you two need?\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Lots of inanimate objects were replaced by people with a similar name over night (E.g. a door mat is now a guy called Matt laying on the floor). They behave just like their respective object did, but talk occasionally. Everyone treats them like the objects too. Only the protagonist is aware." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I heard mumblings before releasing my eyes from the darkness I choose every night. I couldn't tell if they were the voices of the regret I doused myself in last night after spewing venemous hatred towards my brother or if I was losing it, just like he said I was.\n\nIt suddenly became clear, it wasn't in my head but my bed.\n\n\"Your highness, I know he is awake because his breathing has become more reserved and embarrassed, you can't feel the heaviness of his soul returning to his flesh?\"\n\nMy eyes hardened in large wide circles. A grown man was standing by my windows, blocking the sun from interrupting my once sound sleep.\n\n\"All I feel are the fluffy lightness of my being Kurt,\" my queen sized mattress said, curtly.\n\n\"Well he's staring right at me, now. Hey you want these opened or closed?\" Kurt focused on me, but the woman who was feathering my mattress spoke first. \"Open of course, what are we pathetic?\"\n\nThe curtains burst open and I saw my room. My dresser had been replaced with a woman that looked like a personal stylist who held all of clothes. My mirror was an extra shiny and oily sticky man with no shirt on. My door was a tall, slender mand with a fedora and desk was a college aged looking kid holding my things and ignoring me.\n\nI tried to slowly get out of the room but my feet touched Florida instead of the floor. She required that I stand on her back and go everywhere i went.\n\nPart Two (thanks for the support, everyone)\n\nMy journey in the restroom left me embarrased but I knew I would never again be afraid to run out of toilet paper.\n\n\"1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3\" I heard from unison voices as Florida and I approached the kitchen. The counters clung to my prepared lunch and a man donning a baseball cap and football jersey began blowing on me, continuosly.\n\n\"There you are, can you TaVina to shut up!\" yelled what used to be my fan.\n\n\"I prefer T.V, fan boy!\" Hurled T.V. at ear drum busting volume. I needed to get out of there. I needed to see my brother.\n\nFlorida left me with Matt who turned me over to Sidewalk who let me know immediately that he was different from other Sidewalks and went by Sidewalker33.\n\nThere were thousands of them! My eyes widen nearly as much as my mouth did. My Lexus had become six identical women named Alexis who only spoke to each other and wouldn't tell me what anything they said meant unless they needed something from me.\n\nWhen I arrived at my brother's house, in shock, disshevield, overwhelmed and defeated I asked Dorene for entry to his house. She turned around and yelled \"knock, knock, knock\".\n\nMy brother thanked her and sent Rugger to show me in.\n\n\"I think I'm losing it,\" my hands were shaking as we sat on Cher and Charelene.\n\n\"You look crazy and you've been so rude and...what are you staring at?\" He said as I took in the dozens of people staring at me.\n\n\"They're all alive, they're all staring me.\"\n\nThe room sighed and rolled their eyes along with my brother.\n\n\"Who is alive?\"\n\n\"Everything! Cher, Charlene! Rugger, Dorene! Everything that should be a thing is a one, they're everyone!\" I yelled as Pilar the pillow tried to hold on to me.\n\n\"Hey! Don't hit her! Of course they're alive! What? Would you prefer trillions of the dead doing all of our bidding? Everything is alive and you've finally opened your eyes! You're not crazy anymore!\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: While going about your day you notice several supervillians. Since you're basically powerless you tried to avoid them. However you couldn't shake the feeling that they were following you. Finally reaching your home you find the door kicked in and their boss waiting for you in your kitchen." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I knew it was stupid to help her. But an old lady begging to be let in as car lights start to turn down the street, sometimes it's not about stupid or smart. Sometimes you just gotta do something.\n\nShe was still hiding out upstairs in my house, and now as I close out my shift at the Stellar Brew, I see someone giving me a too-critical eye over the top of their latte. As I focus on him, I know he's running at 100.02 Fahrenheit. Probably an Altered. Regular humans have a little variety in body temp, but most Altered bodies run a little hot.\n\nI don't have infrared vision or anything, I'm no Infra-Red, and goodness knows I'm no All-Sight. But if I focus on something I can gage it's temperature very accurately. Not super marketable when you can just buy a thermometer, but it has a handful of perks. It was good for making coffee, and good for spotting Altereds.\n\nI cut out of the Stellar Brew using the back exit, but wouldn't you know it, Mr Latte exited the shop right after, and cut around so he could see me when I got out to the street. My place was only a few blocks away. If he followed me all the way, I'd go past my place to my neighbors, Frank and Chi would let me duck inside long enough to keep the creep from clocking my real address. And if it really was a coincidence that he happened to be walking this way at this time, no harm done.\n\nMy pace quickened as I tried to walk uncomfortably fast. I paused at a street corner, to wait for a car to pass. I tried to look around nonchalant, and noticed mister Late had picked up a very severe looking woman, pale white skin, and a hood up mostly covering her light blue hair. She was colder than the air around her. The chill that ran down my spine had nothing to do with her powers, but rather her reputation. That was Shiver, no doubt about it. One of the heavy hitters in DarkStar's personal circle.\n\nMy pulse shot up, but I tried to play it cool. Cross the street. I was approaching my house, where the woman still waited inside. I was going to walk past as casually as I could, but the front door was open, wood splintered. Another chill went through me. Down the road in front of me was a man with glowing red eyes. Infra-Red was notoriously hard to escape, able to track people through walls they said. From 50 feet away he nodded towards my house, but looked relaxed. Like he knew he could catch me if he had to, and knew that I knew.\n\nI walked inside, over the broken doorframe. Afraid to see blood, bones, the old woman's head nailed to the wall, but I saw no damage short of the splintered doorframe.\n\nInside, sitting on my favorite chair, a solid metal shell of a man, with a glowing red heart emitting light between the cracks in armor sat. It was DarkStar himself.\n\nWith a slight metallic grinding, he gestured for me to sit, and a resonant voice echoed from deep within his chest, I resigned myself to my fate, knowing I should have expected helping a stranger would end like this.\n\n\"You make excellent coffee.\" He said.\n\nI blinked. \"What?\"\n\n\"Your coffee, several of my most trusted aides live off of coffee, one quite literally, and everyone who has come by the shop agrees yours is the best\"\n\n\"I\"... I stammered \"thank you?\"\n\nThe resonant voice picked up in volume, and seemed to emanate from all of the metal objects in the room as well. \"We were thinking about setting up a private shop. Easy access. Right at the lobby where we spend most of our time. We'd like it if you were there.\"\n\n\"Uhhm... I mean...\" what could you really say to that? \"If I'm being honest I mostly do it as a side job, I'm going to school for...\"\n\n\"Nonsense\" rumbled my silverware in the kitchen, it was unnerving hearing that voice echo around. \"Studying computer science at a Community College is fine for the ordinary rabble, a respectable if replaceable pursuit.\"\n\nDarkStar stood up, and I noticed then that Shiver and Infra-Red as well as Mr Latte had stepped in behind me. Mr Latte took another sip, and gave me a thumbs up.\n\n\"Come and work for us, for five years\" DarkStar's voice echoed. \"You'll earn five times what you were expecting to make after retirement. Then, if you're still interested in this career path, I'll set you up with a job under the personal attention of Live-Wire, along with a full-ride scholarship to a much more prestigious institution. We will of course expect you to return to the coffee shop between semesters.\"\n\n\"Thats... You're promising a lot, just to get someone who is slightly better at making coffee... surely there's more to it?\"\n\n\"No\" all four of the villains repeated in unison.\n\nMr Latte chimed in after that, \"When you get as wealthy as we are, you grow to want the best. When it comes to coffee, the best is you.\"\n\nThe metal in the room began to vibrate once more with DarkStar's voice, \"I've got so much money I hardly know what to do with it all. What I'm offering you is just a drop in the cup. If you want to stick around, I'm sure we can sweeten the pot, but I want you to know this doesn't have to overtake your life. We want you with us, but we know better than to mistreat the people who fix our drinks\"\n\nTalks continued into the night. DarkStar apologized for damaging my door, but after I agreed to make coffee for them, they had Night Genesis come by, grow a mahogany tree in my back yard, cut it down, carve out a matching set of replacement doors for my house, then prepare and mount it all within about an hour.\n\nAfter all that was done, the old woman crawled down from my attic where she had been hiding. Her face was drained of color after hiding for so long from the city's greatest villains.\n\n\"I thought they were here for you\" I said, a little panic creeping back into my voice.\n\n\"Nah\" she said, \"I was just hiding from my Ex Husband. I wasn't expecting it to get more dangerous here\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You and your party came to the village regarding a quest regarding a dragon. You soon learned from the townsfolk that you weren’t there to slay it. The townsfolk liked her. You were there to slay the brutes intent on butchering her for black market alchemical supplies." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There are times where I encounter a strange quest from the townsfolk, but to protect the dragon from potential outsiders was definitely new.\n\nAccording to the folks, the dragon has been keeping guard of their town for 50 winters, giving them opportunities to florish their business without worrying about robbers and looters.\n\nHowever, they have noticed that the brutes were attempting to butcher the poor dragon, with the intent to sell it off to the black market.\n\nThis sparks a couple of questions in my mind. Firstly, I thought all dragons left the world many winters ago to escape the influence of the Dark Lord. I would know since I was personally trained and blessed by them. Even if there is a dragon that remain in this realm, why hasn't it left?\n\nMy elf student lean close to me, and whispered, \"Sir, should we look for them ourselves?\" There's a tad bit of excitement in her eyes, curious to see a real dragon.\n\nI sighed, \"Alright, we'll track down those brutes and protect your dragon.\" The townsfolk were overjoyed to hear it, and bid us good luck as we head towards that dragon.\n\nWe walked through the thick forest, the air was cold and misty, the ground was soft in each step we took. From my personal experience, this kind of power should belong to the Mist Dragon, but the last I saw it, it left the realm long time ago. Why was it back?\n\nWe finally saw the dragon itself, and my questions were answered.\n\nThe dragon was... a child of the Mist Dragon. It's blue scales were soft compared to it's mother, and the horns were still developing, with cuts surrounding it's horns. It's only as big as a house,\n\n\"My Lord, it's real,\" the elf gasped.\n\nWe slowly approached it, before the dragon perked it's head up, and growled at us. The drawf lifted his axe, and the half giant raised his fist, but I signalled them to stand down, as the elf and I stepped closer to it.\n\n\"Hey, it's okay,\" I assured it, the young dragon still bearing it's sharp teeth. \"We wouldn't hurt you.\" The elf looked at me, and stated, \"I think it doesn't understand our language.\"\n\nI cleared my throat, lowering my head and staring in it's eyes. \"We are here to help,\" I spoke to it in ancient tongue, a language spoken only by dragons and the old gods. Despite my rough language, the dragon slowly stop bearing it's fangs, losing it's hostility on us.\n\n\"You...speak...like...me?\" it asked me, almost relief to hear a language it understands. Judging by it's voice, it must be eight years old in dragon terms. Why did the Mist Dragon left the child alone?\n\nI slowly nodded, \"Yes, I know how to speak like you, and we want to help you.\"\n\nThe dragon lay it's head close to me, letting out a soft whimper. The dwaft and the half giant lowered their defense.\n\n\"Mama...took me up. But...something...happened. I lost...her. Don't know where...,\" it said to me, surprising me. Did the Dark Lord do something to anticipate their journey?\n\n\"Don't worry, we'll protect you,\" I promised it, and the dragons eyes sparkled. It stroked it's head onto my torso out of gratitude.\n\n\"So...what does it said?\" the drawf asked me.\n\nAfter I explained to them about the dragon's situation, the elf seems troubled. \"What should we do, sir? It's being relied on by the townsfolk, and those hunters will try to kill it for it's body.\"\n\n\"I have an idea, but it requires the dragon to come with us to the townsfolk,\" I suggested. I turned to the dragon, and asked, \"Do you have a disguise? A human disguise?\" The dragon shook it's head. \"Mama want...show me. But...no time,\" it said.\n\nThe dragon wouldn't be able to hide it's presence from it's size, but I supposed we have no choice. \"Okay, come with us, we need to tell the townsfolk about you, so they know who you really are.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: : Each and every artist is assigned a muse according to their skill and style of art. Having just finishef college, you find a gorilla at your door." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "BLAM.\n\nI didn't wait for a second 'knock' because the first one had already cracked the frame and bent the hinges.\n\nI was wearing home jeans and a t-shirt. Some people got dressed up to meet their muses but this was my muse, I wanted her to see me as I was fresh off the bat. I opened the door envisioning some strong\n\nGreek Goddess/Valkyrie/Amazon with a brace of 1970 brass threaded Parker Pens in her hair and a satchel full of Moleskine notebooks, a pocket of Lamy fountain pens, Fürst mechanical clutch-pencils and a 1940s Hermes Baby typewriter under one arm. She'd have a smirk on her face, a crack of wit on her lips and be ready to shoot me up with midnight royal blue Waterman ink using a sharpened Lee Oskar diatonic C major harmonica for a needle.\n\nA gorilla.\n\nI had to land a gorilla. The ink wasn't even dry on my discharge papers from Uni and here was all 200 pounds of hairy muse ready at my door making contented digestion belches as if she'd been recently snacking on saltines and pickled herring.\n\n\"Please come in,\" I said but I was dead inside. I then backed all the way into the living room.\n\nIn my rented student studio flat. There was no way we were going to continue the conversation in my 4 square feet of hallway.\n\nWho was I kidding? What conversation?\n\n\"Can I get you something to drink? Something to eat?\"\n\nThe gorilla made another contented belch, it sounded like a cat purring if the cat were sleeping in a tuba.\n\nI heard a beep from my phone and took it out. It was a message from --\n\n\"Hey!\"\n\nThe gorilla, my muse, had broken my phone in half.\n\nI went to my bed and sat down. There's no use arguing with a goril--\n\n\"Hey!\"\n\nMy muse had picked up my bed and broken the frame in half. I was dumped rudely on the floor beside my bag. My muse took the mattress and leaned it against the wall.\n\n\"Look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot, wanna watch some tv or somethi--\"\n\n\"Hey!\"\n\nMy muse had bent my flatscreen in half. Then it picked up the media pc I used for network games and smashed it on the ground repeatedly until it broke like a coconut with all its hdd's spilling out like massive seeds. All my local saved games and top scores were ruined.\n\nThe gorilla looked at me.\n\nI sat in a room filled with a symphony of destruction. This was my muse. It's not like I could phone in a complaint about my muse. It would be like calling the police about my cancer.\n\nThen I had an idea. I took my notebook out of my bag, the one I'd carried around all summer and half filled with scribbled lines. I started writing down what had just happened.\n\nThe gorilla sat down.\n\nI wrote half a page and still had the notebook and pen in my hands.\n\nI pulled my laptop out of my bag.\n\nThe gorilla stood up.\n\nAt the desktop I launched Scrivener and typed up the notes I had just written.\n\nThe gorilla sat down.\n\nI sighed.\n\nLater that week I felt it was safe to turn on the radio. I made the mistake of turning it on before I started writing.\n\nAfter I got a new radio, the work proceeded fairly smoothly.\n\nNo distraction is survived by my muse. She will destroy anything that gets in the way of my focus.\n\nEndnote: Twenty years after I got my muse, I'm a married man with kids. I was careful to write my priorities down which is how my muse let this happen. I won't bore you with the details of how she chased away anyone who showed any interest in me before I hit on that solution.\n\nMy home once again has a television but I never watch it. There is once again a phone in my pocket but I write on it.\n\nI am a published author and my muse is a gorilla.\n\nShe destroys anything which distracts me from my mission. She eats my bad drafts.\n\nI am the luckiest writer in the world.\n\nI got a gorilla for a muse." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 800-900 words. Prompt: The day the ocean died" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The ocean did not experience trivial emotions like disappointment, but that’s the closest word for it. Shame might be more accurate.\n\nThe ocean came into being when the first icy meteors crashed into the earth’s surface, melting and collecting the carved out valleys. The earth gave it a job, since it kept hanging around. It told the ocean to see what it could stir up. Anything. Everything. The Earth complained things were still a bit too boring. It needed some diversity. It needed something to do. It needed a purpose. So far, the Earth said, it felt like a cheap motel room off the side of the highway. Bare and not unpleasant but featureless in all other aspects.\n\nA few bolts of lighting and millions of years later and the ocean brewed a couple of simple organisms. Protolife. The Earth was not particularly impressed but the ocean told it to have faith. He knew these things could go far. He saw potential in them. They were like windup toys. You twisted the back and they went out all on their own in unpredictable ways. Ocean still threw occasional temper tantrums during these discussions as did the Earth, earthquakes in response to hurricanes in response to volcanoes.\n\nEventually the Earth conceded, as the oceans grew and the life forms exploded. This whole life idea was pretty good. It still complained that the ocean hogged all of it, though.\n\nThe ocean did what it could. It prodded the little squirming creatures, the early crustaceans, the first fish. It tried to get them to go up to the surface. They took to it soon enough, but most weren’t happy about it. Soon things had spines and were dipping in and out of the water as they pleased.\n\nThe ocean should have known not to trust the earth.\n\nIt enjoyed sloshing around, collecting the strangest life forms and storing them at the bottom. It still had to keep some swarms of fish near the surface to please the landforms and the earth, but it generally minded its own business besides the occasional typhoon and storm. It didn’t suspect much until it was too late.\n\nIt took a long time before it realized it was sick. Or maybe the sickness descended very quickly. It was impossible to tell. All the ocean knew was that it started hearing about this splendid new life form in the dry world above and all of the sudden it was choking and struggling to breathe. It had little bits of plastic in it. Coke cans and cigarette butts and McDonalds wrapper. It couldn’t recall ever meeting anyone named McDonalds but it wanted to have a worth with him. And then black sludge began spilling into it. The humans felt so bad about that they even tried to clean it up, but they did a shit job. They started eating all the fish, more than the ocean could replace. The ocean felt itself get warmer, as if it were coming down with a fever. It started getting irritable with the humans. More floods. More storms. More hurricanes.\n\nIt had several long talks with the earth. It was not pleased.\n\nThe earth claimed that the humans had grown out of its control. They seemed great at first but turned out to be the nastiest little buggers around. Most out of control populations could be thwarted with an ice age, some droughts, but these humans were resilient.\n\nThe ocean didn’t know if it believed all that. It suspected that the earth didn’t much care for it. After all, it controlled a lot of the surface area. It had invented life. Perhaps a bit of jealousy at work.\n\nIt didn’t much matter now. The ocean rapidly realized that it was getting a lot worse and everything in it was dying. It was turning a bit rancid. A bit tepid. A bit radioactive. It was better to face reality than live in denial. It was on its death bed. Things didn’t look too hot. The humans kept churning along on their boats, kept dumping their crap, kept spilling oil.\n\nThe irony, the ocean thought, was that this was simultaneously an act of matricide and suicide. The ocean gave birth to them, although the humans felt a bit too grown up to admit that or come to terms with their humble origins. And they, in their many delusions, believed they could get along without the ocean.\n\nFine, the ocean thought to itself. Let them see what happens.\n\nBut this was a sad thought, not the satisfying, vindictive kind he had during his fights with earth. It wouldn’t be able to go back to say look what happens when you mess around. There would just be a lot of dead humans, a dead ocean, and earth practically back to square one, the party ruined for everybody." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: A socially inept uncle manages to attract the attention of his cute niece." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Katie watched from the doorway as her parents drove away. They had been planning on taking a vacation by themselves for a long time and had decided to do it this summer. Katie said that she would be all right staying home by herself, but she was a bit of a troublemaker, so her parents decided to drop her off at her uncle’s house several hours away, where she couldn't meet up with her friends and host wild parties.\n\nMike was no happier about this than Katie was. He had lived alone for years, which is the way he liked it, and the last thing he wanted was some spoiled 18-year old girl invading his space. Unfortunately, he didn't have much choice in the matter, as he owed his brother a few favors. So now he would have to put up with his niece for the next two months before her parents came back and picked her up to take her to college.\n\nThe first few days passed quietly enough, but Katie soon got bored and restless. And as time went on, she got hornier and hornier. She had broken up with her last boyfriend months ago and hadn't gotten laid in a while. If she had been home, she could have called someone to hook up with, but the only guy she knew here was Mike. He was kind of handsome, she thought. Like a younger version of her father, who she had also fantasized about on occasion.\n\nAs she thought more about her uncle, she got turned on and finally stripped off her clothes and lay down on her bed in the guest room. \"Oh, Mike,\" she groaned, rubbing her clit. She pressed her face into the pillow to muffle her screams as she came. Katie was satisfied, but she knew that actually fucking the older man would feel much better than her fingers.\n\nFrom then on, Katie started to wear more revealing clothes. She regularly walked around the house in only a t-shirt and panties, showing off her long, smooth legs to Mike. He pretended not to notice, but she could tell that he was getting uncomfortable. When they hung out together, she would smile and flirt with him a little more than was appropriate.\n\nMike was so conflicted. He knew it was wrong, but whenever he thought Katie wasn't looking, he would stare at her incredible body, making his penis grow stiff. Then, he would go up to his room and masturbate. Unbeknownst to him, Katie knew what he was doing. While he was lying down on his bed and stroking his dick furiously, the bed would creak. So when Mike went into his room, Katie pressed her ear against the door and waited for the inevitable creaking to start and then finger herself as she listened to her uncle getting off.\n\nAfter a week of this, Katie decided enough was enough. When Mike got home from work, she put on the nicest dress she had, cooked for him, and flirted even more than usual throughout dinner. Mike's voice was strained, and he seemed flustered. Afterwards, he thanked her for dinner and quickly walked upstairs.\n\nKatie smiled to herself as she cleared off the table. She waited a few minutes and then went up to Mike's room. Bracing herself, she opened the door. He stopped masturbating immediately, looking at her with wide eyes. \"Hi Uncle Mike,\" she said.\n\n\"Katie, I...\"\n\n\"It's OK,\" she said. \"I want you, too.\" She slipped off the dress, revealing her completely nude body to him.\n\nMike stared. \"Wow.\"\n\nWasting no time, Katie climbed on top of him, placed his erection at her entrance and slid down. \"I'm so wet for you,\" she muttered, starting to ride him.\n\nMike groaned at the sensation. Her pussy was tight and warm, and he wasn't going to last long. Thankfully, neither was his niece.\n\n\"Cum for me, Mike,\" she said. He did, jerking his hips up and pumping his load into her while gasping her name. Seeing him cum triggered Katie's own orgasm, and she threw her head back in ecstasy.\n\nAfterwards, she lay with her head on his chest as they basked in the post-coital bliss.\n\n\"How long have you known I was jerking off to you?\" he asked.\n\n\"Since the beginning,\" she said. \"It was so hot, but I was waiting for you to make a move. Finally, I had to do it myself.\"\n\n\"I just couldn't believe you actually wanted me. Plus, there's the incest and the age difference.\"\n\nKatie shrugged. \"Yeah, I figured that.\"\n\n\"So it doesn't bother you?\" Mike asked.\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"In that case,\" he said, \"You should know that I hadn't had sex in almost a decade. So I'm probably a little rusty.\"\n\n\"You can practice on me all you want,\" Katie said, smiling.\n\nShe started to stroke his penis, and Mike got hard again. He grinned back at her. \"This is going to be a great summer.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: She sighed, \"If you're not up to doing it, then fine, but I really just enjoy being woken up with sex. It just gets my day off to the right start.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ted heard them arguing a bit before he opened the door.  She sighed “If you’re not upt to doing it, then fine, but I really just enjoy being woken up with sex. It just gets my day off to the right start.”\n\n“I just have to get up so early for work as it is.  I really don’t have the time to bone you and get ready before work.”  Steve said but he sounded very defensive.  Steve was Ted’s roommate and Cassie was his girlfriend.  Though, she stayed over in their college dorm so much she might as well be the third roommate.  Ted didn’t care because she was pretty cool and liked a lot of the same things he did.  Also they banged in the room so much that they worked out a system with Ted so he wouldn’t snitch on them to the RA. \n\nSchool nights they couldn’t fuck after 12am, and as long he wasn’t creepy about it they wouldn’t run him out of the room exert time they fucked.  Meaning he had seen Cassie get fucked several times already so hearing this was no big surprise.   Ted walked in and the room and the conversation died pretty quick.  A thought started to form in his head. Ted put his head phones on for the night and pretended not to hear them arguing on and off for the rest of the night.\n\nThat morning after Steve left Ted got up and walked over to Steve’s bed with a naked Cassie flopped across the mattress with his covers across her lower half, her tits on full display. Ted had caught glimpses of her before but tried to play it cool.  She had some big pink nipples that stood tall when hard.  Her ass was what most guys seemed to be attracted to, but Ted knew about the wicked little nips she kept hidden.  Today was a test and it could turn out horrible or awesome.  He whipped his dick out as he stood over her sleeping body and he just started stroking it slowly.  By time he got hard and picked up his speed Cassie sleepily opened her eyes.  Then they flew open with a shock.\n\nTed kept going.  Whether or not she was into it he was hoping to finish before she freaked out at him.  To his surprise she flung the covers off and started fingering herself as Ted stood over her masterbating.  When he came he shot his cum across her stomach, some landed  on her thigh.  She smeared her hand against the cum on the thigh and then rubbed it against her pussy in moments she was twitching in delight.\n\n“Thanks for that, but I only fuck Steve.”  Cassie said staring at Ted's more impressive dick.  He had seen his roommate before and he knew he was much thicker and a little longer.  “By the way I’m planning on wearing my sleeping mask so if someone besides Steve wakes me up it’s not my fault is it.”\n\nThe next morning Ted woke up hard as soon as he heard Steve stumble out the door.  Cassie had a sleep mask on and was laying on her stomach. Ted crept over and slowly removed the cover to admire her toned and tanned body once again.  This time it was ther tight prize-winning ass point up.  Well, the one problem with her plan was if she was going to lay there and pretend she wasn’t cheating she couldn’t make any demands beforehand.  He knew her and Steve used condoms, but Ted's not much of a condom guy.  Girls have to lay down an ultimatum before he does.  So Ted stripped naked and crawled into his roommate’s bed hovering over his girlfriend.  So Ted slipped his hand under her and started playing with her pussy to warm her up.  She started grinding her pussy into my hand.  So he got up behind her and started sliding my cock into her wet hot pussy.  She pushed back as she hit the root of his cock.  Once Ted felt she was accommodated to my width, he really let her have it.  Ted started pumping into her and she started to arch up.  They moved from a prone bone to more of a doggystyle and Ted leaned over pinching those long nipples of hers.  She was screaming and cumming on my dick before he was done.  He came a little after orgasim.  Leaving her with a fresh creampie dripping from her pussy.  Ted grabbed his clothes and ran to the shower quickly.\n\nWhen Ted came back into the room she was still naked and now she was furious. “Did you cum in my pussy?”  She practically yelled it.  \n\n“No.” Ted said with an innocent smile. “I thought Steve woke you up.”\n\nShe paused and then broke down laughing. “Wel, I’m not on the pill so he will need to wake me up in my mouth or ass until I get on it, right?”  They both laughed.  “But hopefully he uses lube because he feels so much bigger in the mornings.”  She turned and started getting her stuff together while she was still naked.  Ted sat down on his bed and started the stroke himself thinking about how tight her ass would feel.  When she bent over he could see the  semen seeping out of her freshly fucked pussy.  Then she turned and saw him stroking his cock hard once again.  “You know Ted I still got plenty of time before classes.  Maybe I should sleep in a bit.”\n\nCassie pulled a tube of lube from the night stand and put her sleeping mask back on.  Ted’s mornings were getting more exciting by the minute." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: The first chosen one? Killed by the dark lord. The second chosen one? Still alive as a farm boy who is fully aware of their role. They keep trying to avoid fate, afraid they'll die like the first...but fate has other plans." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Dark Lord watched over the field. A lone young man toiled there, sweat soaked and dirty as he fought the cyclical battle of agriculture to turn dirt and seed into food.\n\nCivilizations have always depended on the efforts of farmers. As humble as the labor may be, its importance has been recognized throughout history. Empires stood on the shoulders of simple farmers.\n\nThe Dark Lord understood this. As a leader of a growing Empire of Evil himself, he had long since realized that no matter how much his minions raided, looted, pillaged, burgled and swindled, it would never be sufficient for him to eleminate the logistical chain of farms within his own lands.\n\nOf course, his crops were watered with cursed blood and grew in the baleful light of dark magics, but they were still tended by men much like the one he now observed. Enslaved perhaps, and driven to work at the end of a lash, but otherwise the principle was the same.\n\nBut for all that, he could not for the life of him understand why the young man was there, toiling in this field in the quiet peaceful valley. This young man had a greater destiny. Fate itself had chosen him. Yet here he stayed.\n\n\"Why?\" muttered the supreme villain of the world.\n\nIt didn't make sense. You can't fight fate. He knew that by years of first hand experience. Where darkness grew strong, light must rise up to meet it. So it had always been. A Dark Lord, and a Chosen One. The deadly dance of nemesis, with only one winner.\n\nBut now his partner wasn't damcing. The forces of evil had been victorious in the last round of the eternal game. The chosen hero had fallen to him, and his empire had grown. His dark power held sway on two continents now, and his legions had celebrated their victory. Even he himself had cracked a dark smile under his horned, blackened helm.\n\nHe wasn't smiling now. Some heroes fought with strength, others with great magic, but some assailed the darkness with cunning and guile. It had been his experience that when you couldn't see what your opponent was doing, or when their actions didn't make immediate sense, it was most likely you were contending with one of this last group.\n\n\"Enough,\" he snarled. He would not cower behind a tree like this. Five years had passed since the Call to Action, Fate's favorite recruiting method. For five years he had waited for the confrontation of his newest opponent.\n\nA month ago, he had lost his patience, and come here to see what had so delayed destiny. For that month, he had watched this nonsense, trying to understand. He would wait no longer. If this was a trap, then so be it.\n\nThe Dance would not be denied.\n\nWith a heavy thudding steps, he advanced from the tree line. His mailed fist closed around the hilt of his sword, thrice cursed and quenched in the blood of a slain priest. His foe turned at the last. Yes, here it was, the fight every Dark Lord was born to fight!\n\nHe drew his sword as his enemy raised his eyes and saw him in all his malign splendour. Now the trap would be sprung, he was sure. He had tried for a month to percieve the nature of the pitfall and failed. Hopefully he could he would survive it. If not, at least he would fall to this most worthy opponent.\n\nThe worthy opponent who promptly screamed like a child and fell to the ground in a dead faint.\n\nNo trap was sprung. No hidden ambush was revealed. Nothing happened. The Dark Lord stood in a field beside an unconscious man without a scratch on him.\n\nHe stood there for a long moment, staring down at his fated enemy. Then, with a quick contemptuous motion, he ran the farmer through, flicked the blood from his sword and left.\n\nFate shrugged." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You are a renowned healer in the modern world, you perform miracles daily but you don’t question how or why you have these powers. You’re doing your usual run through a hospital when you notice what seems to be the Grim Reaper staring you down. He seems very pissed and starts towards you." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Thank you, thank you so much,” the young woman sobbed, wringing his hands. Color was returning to her father’s cheeks; the deathly pallor had retreated.\n\n“You’re welcome, my dear,” Jeff said warmly. “You have many years left with your father before it is his time to go.”\n\nHe made his goodbyes, then moved to the next room in the ICU. Staff and visitors alike whispered as he passed.\n\n“Truly a miracle worker….”\n\n“I heard he heals people for free and expects nothing in return.”\n\n“Where did his healing abilities come from?”\n\n“No one knows, not even him. He says he has been given a gift from God.”\n\nJeff heard their comments, of course, but didn’t address them. He liked the aura of mystery, plus they all called him simply The Healer, which was a much better title than Jeff. The news kept track of his miracles, defying death on every continent, curing mortally wounded dictators and presidents of countries as well as cleaning out entire hospitals. The Healer was a worldwide phenomenon, the savior of thousands, no, MILLIONS.\n\nThe next room held a car crash victim, all alone, not even a nurse in the room. Disappointed, Jeff flicked his hand and the boy was healed. Why bother with the ceremony of laying hands on someone when there was no one to awe?\n\nHe was about to enter the next room when he saw a shadowy figure at the end of the hall. The figure turned in a whirl of black robes and jabbed a finger at Jeff.\n\n“You!”\n\nJeff rolled his eyes as the scythe-bearing creature stomped up to him.\n\n“Hello, Milton.”\n\n“Don’t hello Milton me,” he snapped. “You know I’ve been trying to track you down for months.”\n\n“Does the Grim Reaper not have some kind of tracking system available to him?” Jeff said snidely.\n\n“Hmmm, strangely enough I never thought I’d have to track down my own brother,” Milton retorted.\n\nJeff shrugged. “Now that you’ve found me, what do you want?”\n\n“You know damn well what I want. I want you to stop playing god and fucking up my job responsibilities.”\n\n“I’m a savior to these people. I’m saving lives, performing miracles-“\n\n“Performing is right,” Milton snorted. “It’s all for attention; you act like I don’t know you.”\n\n“If you know me, then you know that I’ll stop when I’ve had my fun,” Jeff snapped. “Now why don’t you run along and kill someone before I get there and stop you?”\n\nMilton opened his skeletal mouth as if to speak, then abruptly closed it.\n\n“Fine. You want power, you want attention? You’ve got it. As of this moment, I retire.”\n\n“You can’t retire,” Jeff sputtered.\n\n“Oh yes I can. I’m retiring, and now no one will die. You won’t be saving lives, you’ll be healing non-fatal wounds and failed suicide attempts for the rest of your life and everyone will hate you for cursing them with this awful immortality.”\n\n“Now wait just a second-“\n\nMilton tossed Jeff his scythe as he vanished, leaving him standing in the corridor of a hospital where no one would ever die." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You die suddenly and unexpectedly only to find towering knights hand you a sword. You’ve been drafted into the Legion of the Damned, a force that takes the greatest warriors in life and defend the afterlife against the hordes of Hell. Problem is, you were a tax accountant all your life" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "For my entire adult life, I had to listen to people complain about the unfairness of the tax code. I didn't write it; as a CPA, I didn't even enforce it. At first the complaining was simply annoying, but, as I started getting clients who were openly LGBTQ+ in the early 90s, I started to realize that a few of the complaints were onto something. So, I started stretching the rules a bit. Nothing major, and certainly nothing that was really obviously fraud, but sometimes I decided to address a few of the injustices I saw while I was at work. Little did I know that this lifetime of financial crusading was setting me up for an afterlife full of literal crusading.\n\nAs I slipped off into eternal slumber in a hospital room outside of Minneapolis, I didn't expect anything other than eternal peace and quiet. Instead, after my sould finally became aware of leaving the moral plain, I was greeted by a literal knight in shining armor. Leon the Holy stood about two feet taller than me, and, even restored to the strongest body I ever had in life, could have easily dislocated my shoulder in an arm wrestling contest. He shook my hand as I was still in the process of registering my continued existence, and he very literally shook me out my fog.\n\n\"Welcome to the Legion of the Damned.\" He boomed this in a voice that somehow made me aware of both the bushy beard and broad smile lurking under his steel faceplate. \"As some of the greatest warriors against the forces of Hell in our mortal lives, we are expected to continue our work against Lucifer's armies to protect those pure souls who have passed on to the great sanctuary of Heaven. What is your name and weapon, fellow soldier?\"\n\n\"P-Percy Williams?\" I stammered. That's my name, but I haven't fought with weapons before.\"\n\nLeon opened his faceplate and peered down at me, confused. \"Well, then how did you pursue your righteous crusade against the forces of evil?\"\n\n\"I don't know. I was an accountant.\"\n\nLeon produced a large scroll out of what appeared to be a small satchel, and began to unroll \"Well, it says here that you effectively defended others against... Your country's entire government. What sort of weapons did you use for that?\"\n\n\"Mostly Microsoft Office, if I'm understanding you correctly.\"\n\n\"Hmmm...\" Leon stroked his beard for a moment, then handed me a short dagger, a quill pen, and some parchment. \"These will have to do for now.\"\n\nThis began my slow introduction to the Legion of the Damned. My comrades ranged from Second World War French Resistance members to martyred nuns, but everyone there had a sort of physical fortitude that I lacked. I gained a certain knack for fighting off smaller imps that the larger Legionnaires found to be ankle-biting annoyances, but I had little opportunity to distinguish myself in those early days.\n\nMy big break came when we found ourselves pinned in a box canyon by a hydra and an army of undead corporate lawyers. As Yi the Bold gracefully dodged the hydra's heads and taunted them long enough for Leon and his companions to bash them into a pulp, I searched for a hole in the ironclad defenses of the lawyers. They were casting paperwork binding spells on our rear lines when I realized from their powdered wigs that all of them died before the passage of any civil rights laws. I quickly wrote out the text of several nondiscrimination clauses I could remember from my brief interest in corporate law while I was an undergraduate, and managed to ensnare them in enough red tape to give us a clean exit.\n\nThat day, I revealed my ability to turn satanic legalomancy on the very forces that made it, and gained the respect of most of the Legion, but my struggle against the forces of evil never ends." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: You're just about to tuck your daughter in when she says there’s a monster under her bed. To reassure her, you lay on the ground and check underneath, only to find your daughter, quivering. She whispers, “Daddy, there’s something on top of my bed...”" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He opened the front door, after jingling his keys for a moment, bleary-eyed, as he had just finished a nearly 12-hour shift. He had only one thought on his mind: sleep. However it was important to him that he make the nightly trip to Angela’s room, his six-year-old step-daughter, as they had only recently began to develop a bond. For the past couple of months, he tried to tuck her in as many times as possible, trying not to miss more than two consecutive nights. His work hours were scattered and random, as his employment was based off of unpredictability and whatever suited that day’s needs. Tonight, he was a little late, and he hoped she was still awake.\n\n\t\n\nThe house was a grand one, with the exterior façade of a castle during the gothic period. Perhaps ‘castle’ is a little grandiose, but John felt it was a fitting description. It was how he described it to his parents, who lived across the world, through letters. It had long, winding corridors, and impossibly tall ceilings. He and his wife, Cecilia, had bought it after the previous owner, who worked for many years to renovate it, had mysteriously passed. It had almost become an inside-joke between Cecilia and himself, that the old woman would haunt them one day for stealing her treasure from her.\n\n\t\n\n“I’ve felt strange energies, … in the upstairs rooms,” Cecilia would tell him.\n\n\t\n\nJohn would scoff.\n\n\t\n\n“No, really!” Cecilia would respond, through laughter.\n\n\t\n\n“Cecilia, that’s utterly ridiculous. Do you really think the ghost of Madame Lavoie is in here? To haunt us?” He’d ask her, and then quickly look over her shoulder, as they were lying down, and create an expression of shock, or horror. “Who’s that?! In the doorway!”\n\n\t\n\nAnd Cecilia, inevitably, would jump every time. Sometimes she’d even scream.\n\n\t\n\nJohn would burst into laughter, and she’d blush endlessly while yelling cusses at him.\n\n\t\n\n-\n\nThe door opened with a loud creak, and inside there was only a lit candle, indicating the long stairway. Beyond that was the kitchen, although John couldn’t make out any of the shapes in the darkness. He immediately headed upstairs, in hopes of making it on time to Angela’s bedroom. He checked his wristwatch by the candle light. It read 12:04am. Shoot, he thought. I’ve probably missed it. He ascended the stairs with a quickness in his step, although he was careful not to generate too much noise, as he assumed they were both asleep.\n\n\t\n\nHe walked into the master bedroom, and saw that Cecilia was blissfully unconscious. He wasn’t hopeful, but he turned around and crept across the corridor just outside their bedroom, and slowly made his way to Angela’s room. The floorboards were especially creaky at night, it seemed. The walls were lit every couple of metres by candlelight.\n\n\t\n\nAs he neared Angela’s room, he thought he heard her humming. He entered the room, and found her sitting in the middle of her bed, with her blanket pulled over top her head, which covered her entire body.\n\n\t\n\n“Angela, sweetie, what are you doing?” John asked her.\n\n\t\n\nShe pulled the blanket off of her head and gasped. “Daddy, you’re finally home!” She opened her arms for a hug. They embraced, and then he examined her closer.\n\n\t\n\n“Are you alright? Why aren’t you asleep?” He confirmed the time by checking his watch again. “It’s far too late, my dear!”\n\n\t\n\n“Daddy, she’s here!”\n\n\t\n\nJohn froze for a moment, and then asked her: “Who’s here?”\n\n\t\n\n“The lady, daddy! Madame Lav- Lav, Lava!”\n\n\t\n\nMadame Lavoie, he thought, but he didn’t want to utter the name out loud. “Where?” John asked.\n\n\t\n\nAngela lowered her voice into a whisper, and came closer to John. “Underneath my bed!”\n\n\t\n\nJohn felt a shiver, although he felt ridiculous for feeling such a sensation. The room was completely quiet, besides the occasional howl of wind from outside the window across the room. The moonlight created a shadowy atmosphere that illuminated various shapes and objects throughout the room.\n\n\t\n\n“Sweetie, that’s simply not possible. Madame Lavoie is dea-”\n\n\t\n\n“She spoke to me! She told me I was a good little girl, but that she didn’t like my mommy and daddy!”\n\n\t\n\nHe paused, and gulped. Angela was never awake this late. Something felt eerily strange. He thought about how Cecilia was against the purchasing of the house, and how much he pushed for them to get it, and how much he adored its appearance.\n\n\t\n\n“Alright, dear, well is she gone now?”\n\n\t\n\n“No!” Angela whispered, with a wide-eyed look.\n\n\t\n\n“Well then, where is she?”\n\n\t\n\nShe pointed down.\n\n\t\n\nHe pointed down as well. “Underneath?”\n\n\t\n\nShe nodded.\n\n\t\n\nBloody hell, he thought to himself. He got up off of the bed, and crouched beside it. He looked one last time at Angela, who was wearing a frightened expression. He looked underneath the bed, with some trepidation.\n\n\t\n\nNothing. He scanned from left to right, and could not see anything, apart from the dust and the usual toys that Angela keeps under there.\n\n\t\n\nWell, that settles that, he thought, and began to get up. However, at the last glance, he noticed something off to the wall-side of the underbelly of the bed. A dark fabric, perhaps the drapery? No, it wasn’t that, as the curtain was a silky white. Angela’s blanket? That wasn’t a dark colour either. He furrowed his brow, and crawled under the bed, to get a closer look. He noticed a murmur from above.\n\n\t\n\n“Angela, sweetie, just give daddy a moment,” He said as he tried to reassure her.\n\n\t\n\nThe murmur became whimpers.\n\n\t\n\n“Angela?”\n\n\t\n\n“Daddy….”\n\n\t\n\nHe stopped in his tracks, and listened attentively. He heard a loud, heavy creak, just above his head.\n\n\t\n\n“She’s on top of my bed….”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: The time has come. You've been training for this day your whole life. The elders and big, hairless food givers have made sure you're ready. Your skills, senses and reflexes are at their peak. It's time to hunt and catch that which none have caught before. It's time to finally catch the Red Dot." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "T'latkotha, whom the hairless ones called \"Mittens\", swore it could not be done. In his youth the big male had also trained to catch and kill our greatest foe. He had failed. T'latkotha was a fine hunter, I mean no disrespect, but mice and sparrows hardly compare to the Dot. Devious, cunning, and faster than even my eyes could track at times the Dot had terrorized Home for generations. The hairless ones seemed unfazed by its presence, but reacted to our hunting of it with loud noises we generally accepted as encouragement.\n\nI am in my prime. Lithe, quick, deadly. The squirrels feared me. Even in their trees I am silent as death itself. No creature is safe from my tooth and claw. I have faced the Dot before, only to have it dance about mocking me, but no matter. Those were training bouts, assessing my foe and its skills. Today I am ready. Today I kill the Dot.\n\nThe hairless ones gather in the great room. My elders lounge on the arms of couches, tails whipping in anticipation. I am glorious as I march a circle around the room, my tail high and straight, ears peaked, rubbing the occasional furless leg with my cheek or sleek sides. I roar in proud challenge, calling the Dot to battle if it dares face me. One of the older hairless holds a small golden cylinder, the artifact used to summon the Dot. A hush settles over the room, my haunches tense, my ears lay back against my skull. En garde!\n\nThe Dot appears, a malevolent crimson against the carpet and I pounce on it! My claws scrabble and scrape at the fiber, tearing into the Dot. But wait, the Dot is no longer there! Cunning bastard. I spin, searching for my prey. There! I leap again, twisting in the air and come down behind it, a snarl low in my throat as I clap both paws over my target. Somehow the Dot has outfoxed me again and glares at me from the top of my paws. Maddening! I hiss and bite at it but come away with only a mouthful of my own fur as the monster vanishes yet again. I hunch low, casting about for any sign of the fiend. The hairless ones make short, sharp noises in their throats urging me onward in my deadly quest.\n\nMy adversary appears once more and I turn my head, watching with only one tightly slitted eye and feign disinterest. The Dot loves to be chased and my ploy works, as I knew it would. Every muscle in my body tightens as the Dot creeps closer, tempting me with its fiery brilliance. It dances slow and confident directly in front of my paws, a fatal mistake. I lunge, snapping my jaws directly on the bright shard but it feints and somehow manages a counterstrike against my eye! Dirty tactics won't save it now, though. Wait. What is that? I glance around at the hairless ones as they make the grunting noises again. These are the same noises the elder hairless make when the young ones behave foolishly! These are not sounds of encouragement, they mock me! Foul play is afoot as I watch the one with the golden device point it in front of me. The Dot appears, as if by his command, directly in line with the device's glowing tip. Treachery! I leap at the malformed paw he uses to hold the artifact and latch on with my every claw. He howls and drops the device, banishing the Dot back to whatever Hell it was called from. The artifact is the key! I snatch it in my jaws and bolt for the laundry room, leaping effortlessly through the swinging door into the back yard.\n\nDog is there. Dog will know what to do with this tainted scourge. I nuzzle the massive sleeping beast and drop the cylinder at his feet. Dog gives a dip of his great head, knowing from my posture that the thing I have gifted him is evil and must be hidden. I hear the hairless ones coming as dog snatches the device and sprints to a corner of the yard where the fence doesn't quite meet the ground. I turn and prance back to the warmth of the house as the hairless give chase. Dog is dumb, but he is also very fast. The Dot will trouble my people no longer." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: After billions of years of putting up with mankind's shit, nature revolts." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In the end, the disaster that scoured humanity from the Earth wasn't what they'd expected.\n\nIt wasn't a nuclear war.\n\nIt wasn't a chemical weapon.\n\nIt wasn't a cyber attack to destroy the new Artificial intelligences that had been invented around the year 2670.\n\nIt wasn't a flood, or even a pestilence to kill off crops. Humanity had managed to fix those things as they happened.\n\nNo.\n\nIn the end, a billion year old strand of humanity met its maker in the same manner it had been born. Through nature.\n\nWhen the exodus had taken place many years before, all those who had been young, fit and smart enough had left the Earth. They all knew it didn't have much time left. The old and the weak had been left behind, with systems in place to ensure their relative comfort until they died off, quiet and forgotten.\n\nBut humans are a tenacious race. A resistant and adaptable disease that couldn't learn to accept its fate. So they had bred and bred, an orgy of ongoing life that spat in the face of their ultimate demise. And gradually, the humans who had been excluded from the ships and new planets became parents. Then they became kings. Then they became warlords.\n\nBut still, they survived. Against all calculations, they endured an existence on a planet that grew colder each year. A planet where the crops began to slowly wither as each year they got less and less nutrients or sunlight. A planet that was dying. Yet they endured it and adapted.\n\nAfter they had been left to age and perish, they had survived and reformed. Now there were young ones as well as old ones. Smart ones as well as the infirm.\n\nAnd so the plan was hatched. The idea began to form in the minds of the grandchildren whose forbears had been left on a dying planet. The plan was simple, in essence. But simple plans can sometimes stretch out into a tangle of infinite complexity.\n\nThe conclusion was reached: \"We must build our own ships. We have to find the rest of our race.\"\n\nThe trouble with a slowly dying planet was that the resources an intergalatic ship would need were heavy. Demanding to the point of exhaustion, realistically. The smarter ones knew this, but they also knew that to stay on Earth was to die.\n\nWith no other ideas present, the remains of the forgotten human race began to dig. Deep into the Earth's crust, they drilled and toiled. They brought up minerals, gas and other precious materials that they required for the ships to carry them into the stars. They dug and dug, desperate to outlive their doomed home.\n\nEnough was enough.\n\nOn the three hundredth day of the digging, a drill punctured the Earth's last vein. It screamed out in agony and clutched at it, spouting magma in its death throes. The planet had spent thousands of years as a limping and wounded animal. Now it was a dying creature whose screams shattered the humans living there.\n\nMagma boiled from the ground. The sky rained ash. The ships were not ready for humanity to make an escape. The planet howled its furious pain up onto its surface and the broken remnants of the forgotten race were wiped clean.\n\nThe Earth settled back down after a hundred years of screeching destruction. It became a black shape of scar tissue, where life was but a memory for those who'd escaped it so many years before.\n\nAnd the remnants of the humans left behind were no more.\n\nAshes in the cosmos." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: It is the year 2078, you are a patient with Alzheimer, thinking she is in 2015 playing minecraft with her friends at 2 A.M." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jax couldn't help but feel nervous as she walked into the Amazon City Senior Care Center for her first day of work. She had worked for a few other assisted living facilities before, and had a good amount of experience for a girl in her twenties, but ever since it opened 10 years ago in 2068, this had been known as one of the top facilities in the state.\n\n    \"Come on, let me give you a tour. Walk with me while I do my rounds.\" Reno was a little older than her, and he seemed to know the place and everybody in it. \"Just so you know, we have some interesting characters here. Not in a bad way, but it keeps you on your toes.\" He finished loading up the breakfast meals and supplies onto two hovercarts, and they started down the long hallway.\n\n    As they entered the first room, an elderly woman popped up out of her chair, an excited look in her eyes. \"Steve! You're back! Is it time to explore the abandoned mineshaft?\" Reno laughed at the confused look on Jax's face. \"This is Emmaleigh. She's got a bit of dementia, but we think she's been a little eccentric her whole life. She's obsessed with some game called Minecraft from her childhood.\" A look of recognition came over Jax's face. \"I think I remember that game! I used to watch my Grandpa play it, back when I was a little kid. He always preferred the retro games, he complained the modern holographic games gave him a headache.\"\n\n    As Reno restocked the supplies in the room, Jax tried to convince Emmaleigh to eat her breakfast, but the old woman mumbled something about her hunger bar being full, and then peered into the hallway, looking left and right as she \"checked for mobs\".\n\n    \"She follows me on my rounds sometimes,\" Reno whispered to Jax as the older woman followed them out into the hallway, \"I can't complain, the exercise is good for her, and she doesn't cause any real trouble\" He watched as Emmaleigh grabbed a broom off of a janitors hovercart that was sitting idly in the hallway. \"My diamond sword\" She exclaimed. She looked over at Jax and, with a very serious look on her face, whispered, \"Other players always take this from me when I'm not looking.\" Jax smiled and whispered back. \"I'll make sure nobody takes it today!\"\n\n    \"Can you keep her busy out in the hall while I do the next room?\" Reno asked, as they continued down the long hall. \"Brayden is one of our oldest residents, and he's usually asleep. It's probably better if she stays out here.\"\n\nJax glanced inside the room at the elderly man in his bright green hospital gown, walked over to Emmaleigh, and whispered \"Look there's a creeper in that room! Let's let him handle it.\" As Reno stepped into the room, Jax took her hovercart full of supplies and took Emmaleigh further down the hall.\n\n    The next room was an older lady named Ashleigh, according to the sign on her door. \"Good morning!\" Jax said as she set breakfast down on the table. \"What's for breakfast?\" the older lady asked. \"Looks like scrambled eggs, toast, and an apple.\" Jax said, peeking inside the container.\n\n\"I wish I could have some honey on my toast, I always loved that.\" Ashleigh said with a sigh. \"I never got to taste it,\" said Jax, \"bees went extinct in the 2050s, before I was even born. Thank goodness we have artificial pollinators now.\" Emmaleigh turned around, hearing them. \"Bees? There better not be any bees spawning near here.\" Jax chuckled as she started stocking the room with supplies. Meanwhile, Emmaleigh went over to the hovercart full of breakfast and supplies and started stacking the toilet paper, while talking about building snow golems.\n\n    As Jax turned to leave, a rat ran out from under the dresser and tried to climb onto the hovercart full of breakfasts. Jax screamed and jumped back up against the wall. She picked up a small trash can and tried to set it over the rat, but it dodged back and forth. Emmaleigh raised her diamond sword broom in the air, and WHACK stunned the rat, and with a second swing, sent the rat skidding across the floor towards Jax, who scooped it up with the trash can and quickly tied the top closed. \"Ha!\" said Emmaleigh. \"I knew we would run into some mobs!\" She looked proudly at her broom, and Jax smiled at her. \"Let's get this thing out of here before it chews through the bag\" she said, \"and then we can finish delivering breakfast.\"\n\n    Later, as Reno and Jax finished their rounds, they took Emmaleigh back to her room. Jax flipped the lights on in the closet and bathroom and pretended to check inside. \"No mobs here!\" she said with a smile. Emmaleigh leaned her diamond sword broom against the dresser and settled back into her recliner, \"Good, that means I can sleep safely! Im tired after our adventure today!\" Jax opened the breakfast that she had left earlier that morning, looked thru the contents, and held out an apple. \"Look, a golden apple!\" Emmaleigh hesitated and then took the apple from her. \"I guess I do need to keep my hunger bar full.\" As Jax started to leave, Emmaleigh spoke up. \"Will I see you on this server again?\" \"Definitely!\" Jax said, \"We will continue our adventure tomorrow!\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: In the new worldwide obsession MMORPG, player characters are generated at random and cannot be changed for any reason, they are Real ID-bound. You spawn in on launch day as something highly unusual." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I had a good feeling about this. There weren't many opportunities in life to become someone else, but this was one of them. My friends were already online, waiting for me.\n\nGeorgie had rolled a Dragonkin knight and was already cleaving her way through the rambling forces of demon spawn with a battleaxe almost as big as she was. It was the perfect fit for the girl with the big personality and even bigger voice. By contrast, Ed, the quiet one of our group, had rolled an Elven monk, at peace with himself, he healed Georgie through her furious antics while defending himself with an intricately engraved staff. Danny, of course, had rolled a human rogue. He was already setting traps for the opposing faction and had angered an entire village by stealing chicken eggs. Why he wanted the eggs is anyone's guess.\n\nNow, finally I was home from work and ready to reveal my character. There was no going back after I hit the character creation button. The buffering icon rotated as it randomly generated my character for life. Georgie and Danny were joking over Discord about what I was going to get but I didn't rise to it, I was confident in this. I was going to be something that dealt a lot of damage, maybe a mage or a hunter, that would complete our dungeon group and be the perfect fit for me. At least, that's what I thought right up until the screen changed.\n\nIt must be a bug, a glitch of some kind, I don't believe what I see on the screen. My friends are asking me what I got but I can't bring myself to answer. How do I explain this?\n\nThe whole UI had changed, where the animated battlefields of Ameryth had been glowing in the background, there was nothing but darkness. In the centre, where there should be his randomly generated character dancing was a single message box. I look for a little X in the corner or a back button but I'm not offered one.\n\nAll the box says is \"Welcome, Chosen One, to your world: Ameryth.\"Maybe they've just changed the welcome message, it did seem to be a bit early for a patch but perhaps I'd missed it while I was at work. I was about to ask my friends if there'd been a hotfix already when the message changed.\"Should a deity tell it's subjects that it is their god?\"\n\nI stare at the words, a deity? That wasn't on the list of races or classes. It must be a bug. The words faded and revealed new ones again.\n\n\"You are the Game Master, you are god.\"\n\nA Game Master? How could I be a Game Master? What did that even mean? The words shifted and changed, they were my only hope in this dark new world.\n\n\"While you may not walk the surface of Ameryth, you are it's guiding light. You are god.\"\n\nThe message box vanished leaving the screen black. My heart hammered in my chest. If I couldn't play the game what was the point? Slowly a light bloomed across the screen, it revealed the world of Ameryth turning below me. Next the tool bars appeared along either side of my screen. I barely had chance to look at what the buttons did before a message icon flashed in the top right hand corner. I hovered my mouse over it.\n\n\"Prayer\" was all it said. I clicked on it to open the message box.\n\n\"Dear GM, god of Ameryth. I pray for your mercy, for I am trapped behind an NPC in the back of a barn and cannot get out. Please have mercy and free me.\"\n\nI could free the poor soul or I could leave him trapped there for all eternity. As I surveyed my array of omnipotent tools I realised that it was completely within my power to teleport them into an end game dungeon where the level 3 goblin shaman would die over and over again to the wrath of the level 100 demon lord. Alternatively, I could move him to the temple of Shiraan where he would be doted upon forever by the priestesses who lived there.\n\nMy friends were losing patience as they waited for me to reply to them in the Discord channel. Does a god reveal to its subjects that it is a god? Yes. Yes it does.\n\n\"I am god\" I type.\n\nThey laugh until they realise that I'm not joking. They don't believe me though until I force them all to dance, Georgie even tried logging out and back in again but when her character didn't stop dancing they realised the truth. I had never been the powerful one before but now I was their god. I was the god of the whole of Ameryth. The prayers were already pouring in as my subjects discovered unfortunate bugs and glitches in the new world. My mouse hovered over the tools at my disposal as I considered my options.\n\nThe question was, would I be a benevolent or a malicious god?" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Aliens come to Earth to uplift humanity. All seems to be going well at first. The Aliens have a secret though, Humans appear in ancient drawings on their home planet." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "We never thought the day would come when the great Precursors would be found in a lonely system beyond the edges of our Federation. For we believe them to have died out, these noble people who once visited our home. Our ancient histories have scattered records detailing when they visited our home world. Their mark upon our people was significant for they appeared in our mythologies and in our religions. Some of us thought they were installing values of our people on to us, the kind like 'Treat your neighbors well, and you shall be treated cordially in return' or 'Appeal infirm when you are robust, and robust when you are infirm', values that shaped our society to the way it is today, all thanks to these great teachers from the stars. But as quick as they were to visit our ancient ancestors, so too was their departure. Quick, and abrupt. And as time went by, the became nothing more but myths, legends and worshipped by the religious and invoked by the superstitious. Time marched, as it always had, and progress seeped to our people, and by the time we reached our modern era, we had largely forgot about them. It took us two millennia to leave our home world and find a place among the stars, two millennia to eventually find knowledge as to what happened to the Precursors.\n\nIn scattered ruins that were still around, found in isolated systems or in derelict ships we found floating in the cosmos, our explorers managed to slowly piece together what exactly happened to our noble patrons. They had fought, against an ancient enemy that we prayed was long gone. Fought it to the point that they presumably drove themselves to extinction. We could never forget the recording of one of their great officer's speech on what we assumed had been the decisive battle. Of how it was not just about their own species, but for the good of all sentient life. And it was because of their sacrifice the galaxy thrives. We swore an oath right then, by the derelict ship of that same officer that we would live up to the legacy they left behind, and take up the mantle of protecting the galaxy against those that would threaten its citizens. Centuries would pass, and we kept to the oath, even as we started discovering other races, most have been cooperative, especially when they too shared their histories and found to their surprise that the Humans was also present in them. It was easy to form a coalition among them, for those who were uncooperative however, they were mostly left alone, it was a big galaxy after all. But if they threatened the existence of all life, then they shall see our ships and our soldiers rolling over them. Thus we keep the oath.\n\nIt had been one fateful day when a Federation scout ship stumbled across a lone system filled with nine planets that would forever change the galaxy. For in that system, on the third planet, life was found. It should have been dismissed as another primitive race to be placed under our protection. However, the satellite construct that the ship scanned came back with glaring news. They had used a mathematical formula similar to the variation used by the rest of the Federation. And when data came back on how it was essentially a more primitive version used by the Precursors the result was staggering. They, the precursors, the generous benefactors, Humanity, had survived. In a system just beyond the edge of the Federation's borders, all alone, yet thriving.\n\nPlans were then made and approved to bring the humans slowly up to speed. Derelict ships and relics that had been lovingly preserved were packaged then shipped off to the First Contact fleet. The Federation was careful to reveal this news of course, lest their enemies take advantage of the situation. Those of us who accompanied the fleet felt ecstatic. To meet these descendants of the Precursors was nothing short of a religious experience. The Federation had owed everything they had, the technologies, the structure of their governments, even how the Federation operated to Humanity. As Operation: Awakening Gods was entering its final stages, we look back at how far we come, and how the humans left a mark on our people. The time had come to repay the favor, for everything they had done. We were students once and the humans our teachers, our guides, now we are the teachers and we shall guide the humans as they have done to us many millennia ago." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: As an angel, you have an earthly person to look after for. You unlawfully fell in love with your human. Desperately, you created a huge havoc and disobeyed God in hopes that He would exile you from the heaven and throw you to the human world." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The heavenly gatekeeper gave the little guardian angel a stern look. The old gatekeeper took the little angel's hand and walked him down the ever-shining golden road of Heaven. He looked down at the little angel and said, \"Look at you, you're such a mess. Not at all in accordance with good angelic hygiene and manners. Your cheeks are dirty, your wings are ruffled, and your knees are scraped from falling over so much! You can fly behind your human, you know?\"\n\n\"I'm new to heavenly business.\" the little angel said quietly, his head down.\n\nThe old angel paused for a moment to think of what to say. \"All the same,\" he continued, \"we all must work. We all must make something good. New or not, you have to do something. And you chose to care for a human down on earth.\" The gatekeeper shook his wrinkly head, \"Now where were we? Oh yes, your misconduct.\"\n\nThe little guardian angel blushed furiously.\n\n\"Besides your bad attire, you are unhappy.\" The gatekeeper glanced at the little angel for a moment. \"There is talk that whenever you come to Heaven, you come through the gates with a frown. I heard that there was even a tear! The choir is never in tune when you sing with them. And you never garden well; instead you decide to water the dirt instead of the flowers. I have seen myself that your eyes, ears, and all your senses are directed elsewhere. Might I ask where?\"\n\nThe little guardian angel didn't say anything. He kept looking down at the burnished gold road nestled between two wide plains filled with roses, daisies, and the occasional dandelion. There was not a building to be seen. The old gatekeeper and tiny angel walked alone along the shining road.\n\n\"You're causing havoc wherever you go, you know? At least you say you enjoy your time on Earth.\"\n\nThe little guardian angel nodded in affirmation.\n\nThey walked for awhile. Soon they arrived at a tall pair of doors. They ran up forty meters tall and lay seven meters wide. The doors blocked the pair's way forward. At this point the gatekeeper motioned the little guardian angel to keep on going. The old angel said farewell to the young one, turned around, and walked back to the pearly gates of Heaven.\n\nThe little guardian angel opened the doors easily and stepped in.\n\nThere God sat in all his esteemed glory. Burning like a never ending fire. A humming furnace fueled by self-sustained grace. And at his right hand sat his son the Christ who also burned just as brightly. But to the little guardian angel's eyes they were a cool and welcome light. They seemed to be singing, and within the little guardian angel stirred the Holy Spirit who also sang in return. And the little angel felt it to be a song of destination and fulfillment. The pair smelled like incense and exasperated love.\n\nBut he still had a question for the Almighty and Co. He came up to them meekly. His little legs shook violently. He was sweating. Even though he knew he was welcome, an overwhelming Presence shook him terribly. God looked at the little angel and said, \"Do not fear.\" And the little angel quelled his own fear.\n\nA moment passed. Or maybe an eternity. These kinds of things are difficult enough to measure with Time. Nevertheless, the little guardian angel felt a very long and very short moment had passed. He was ready to speak. With head and eyes low he said, \"Lord I do not want to be an angel anymore.\"\n\n\"And why not?\" God said.\n\n\"Because I want to be human.\" replied the little guardian angel.\n\n\"Blasphemy?\" God then laughed, and it was like the roaring thunder. And it was like the light shower that follows.\n\n\"I do not know that word, Lord.\"\n\nGod smiled, \"It's just a word. There are many of them. Some good, some bad. You do not need to know what this one means. But you have not yet told me why you want to be human.\"\n\nThe little angel shuffled his feet. He knew that the situation would come to this. \"I love my human. And an angel cannot be with a human. I want to be with her.\"\n\n\"The little girl?\"\n\n\"Yes, Lord.\"\n\n\"But you cannot, because you are an angel. And you will forever be an angel, and she will forever be a human. But still you ask?\"\n\n\"I've done many wrong things. Now you have to throw me down. I'll never have to come back up.\"\n\n\"But you've done no such thing.\"\n\n\"Yes I have.\" The little guardian angel said with a pout.\n\n\"A little bit of trouble here and there, maybe. It's only the angels who like perfect lawns who're really complaining. But they're not really troubled. They think an innocent troublemaker is a fun thing. You've done no wrong. And you should be glad, too. Absentmindedness is your only grievance, but you never intended to be absentminded for a long while, either.\"\n\nThe little guardian angel didn't see the situation going well. It seemed he hadn't caused as much a ruckus as he had hoped! But still...and suddenly, hot tears burst out of the little angel's eyes before he could wipe them away.\n\n\"You don't understand because you're God.\" the little angel said before he could control himself, \"you don't know what it's like to long or desire for anything. The deep aching for something, and you're always searching for it. The ultimate end. But you only find its shadows. And momentarily those shadows seem like they are real. They fill you up for a time. But slowly the desire creeps in and you're searching again. You'll never know because you're God!\"\n\nThe little guardian angel began to wipe away his tears. He closed his eyes as he rubbed them. Suddenly, he felt a stiff body embracing him. The little angel didn't open his eyes but he listened closely.\n\n\"Of course I know of desire. Of course I know of longing,\" the voice of God rebuked him, \"I have felt these pangs more deeply than any created being will ever know. Of course I know.\" The voice subsided and became tender, \"But I also know of fulfillment, and I know of love, too. You say you love your charge. You love her above the other humans. Do you think that by leaving your post and becoming a man you will help her? You will leave her under the care of someone who loves her less. Curb your desire, love her, and then act upon it. You have been given a special set of tools no one else has been given; do not waste them by chasing after shadows.\"\n\nThe little guardian angel left the Holy Presence. The golden road seemed brighter to him as he walked back towards the pearly gates and towards the Earth." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1200-1300 words. Prompt: You were one of the unlucky humans turned into monsters by the last dark lord. Now, he is dead, his curse lifted and you are human again and everything is alright. Except because is hard to have a normal life with memories of all the people you murdered." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This group had ten people. The program tended to like small groups. Easier for them to relate to others when they could actually remember names and faces. They sat in a circle, most of them looking down and the floor, or their hands.\n\n\"Welcome to this meeting of Monanon everyone.\" Said the only person who did not look nervous. He was a young man the higher ups had hired for his nonthreatening looks and voice than anything else. \"Last week, we heard the stories of Annie, Kyle and Phil.\" The three in question fidgeted in their seats. \"Now, who would like to share today?\"\n\nThe group was silent for a moment before someone spoke up. She was a lanky young woman who sat with her shoulders hunched.\n\n\"H-hello, everyone. My name is Mary, and I was a monster.\" The group said their hello, and allowed Mary to continue. She sniffled once before continuing. \"Before the...incident, I was a tailor. Not a big one, just mending the occasional shirt or pants. Then the Dark Lord came. He...I don't know why, but he took me away and...and...\" She stopped and wiped her eyes and nose.\n\n\"Go ahead.\" The group guide said. \"It's okay.\"\n\n\"He turned me into a harpy. I spent ten years living in a nest on a cliff. At first it wasn't so bad. Being able to fly was great, and there were plenty of other harpies to keep me company. But then...then...\" She took a deep breath, but kept going. \"Then the first group of people passed by the cliffs I was living in. Me and the other harpies attacked immediately. I...I didn't even think twice about it. I just...I just saw them as a new kind of food. I still remember my first kill. I...it was a kid. Just a little boy who couldn't have been more than ten. I grabbed him in my talons, lifted him into the air and dropped him. I watched him hit the ground. His head cracked open and I ate what was still intact. I ate it. And, dear lord, I liked it. I...I...\" Tears welled up in Mary's eyes and she cried into her hands. \"I ate dozens of people. Hundreds, even. Sometimes I wonder if being changed back is really a good thing. At least when I was a monster, I didn't feel so horrible. And maybe I'd be killed by an adventurer. Maybe I still should be. It's easier than...than...\" She fully broke down and could not continue.\n\n\"Now, now.\" The guide said. \"You can't think like that. It wasn't your fault you did all those things. Remember that. It was the Dark Lord's compulsion, driving good people like you to do bad things. The best thing you can do is live. Don't let those things control you. You are Mary. A wonderful, kind, beautiful woman. Not a nameless harpy.\" She nodded weakly, but the tears kept coming. \"Now, who's next.\"\n\nA man with heavy, blocky muscles raised his hands. \"Hi, I'm Adam, and I was a monster .\" He took a deep breath and continued after he had been greeted. \"I used to be a guard. One of the best, actually. I had people I led. The townsfolk trusted me. But I couldn't do a damned thing when the dark armies showed up. I tried, of course. Even managed to kill a few of em. Then I got taken and turned into a slime. A god damned slime! A monster a kid with a knife can beat. I never killed anyone, but I sure as hell got killed a lot.\" His eyes grew distant and empty. \"Over and over. Thing is, slimes got this weird trait. You know how starfish can regrow as long as there's a little bit left? Same with slimes. Every time I died, I'd just reform a day later. I...I don't even know if I'm the same person anymore. Am I still Adam? Or am I some kind of clone? It keeps me up at night. Literally. I don't think I've slept more than an hour or two a night since the curse broke. I...I don't know if I can keep living, not knowing if I'm really me. I just...I just can't.\" He looked at his hands. They were shaking badly.\n\n\"Adam, taking that route won't do anyone any good. And does it matter if you're the original or not? You have all the same memories, the same thoughts, the same feelings. You are Adam. A fine man who saved many lives, and can do so again. Who will end our story introductions for today before we move on?\"\n\nA teenage boy, pale and thin, spoke up. \"Um my name is Jack, and I was a monster.\" It took him a moment to really collect himself. \"So, I didn't really have a job, since I was 15 when it happened. I was studying though. Going to try and get into an academy and everything. I don't really know how the attack happened. It was one of those stealth raids, you know? I went to sleep one night, thinking I was safe. I mean, it was a big city, how would we be attacked? I wake up as a wraith. An undead monster. What am I supposed to think about that? I was literally dead for almost two years. And now I'm, what, suddenly alive again? What's with that? How am I supposed to deal with that? With not having a heartbeat? Without breathing? And that's before we even get into all the people I killed. And oh boy did I kill. It wasn't even for food or territory or anything. It was because I was jealous. I just knew I should be like them, and why wasn't I? I just thought if I couldn't be like them, then they should be like me. And then I killed them. Didn't hesitate or worry or even feel guilty. I just did it for the worst reason. And now what do I do about that? Am I supposed to just, what, keep going like nothing ever happened? Like I was never an undead abomination that killed people out of jealousy? Is that's what's supposed to happen?\" When he finished, Jack was breathing hard and his eyes were wide. His pupils darted around the room wildly, and he sees unable or unwilling to focus on any one thing.\n\n\"No.\" The guide said. \"There's no need to pretend it never happened. It happened, and there's no changing that. You, all of you, have an experience unique to you. You can use that to grow and become a better person. Don't let your experiences as a monster hold you back. Use them to grow. You are alive, no matter what you were when you were a monster. That means you can use your past to grow and become better than you were. Figure out how to do that and great things will happen.\"\n\nThe guide looked around at the group. None of those who had given their stories looked at all comforted. But that was fine. This was only the second session, and only six members of the group had shared. There would be lots of time for healing." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You're known as the world's greatest healer, but you have a secret: your healing involves moving injuries to yourself. Somehow, you have kept this hidden, until your latest patient finds out." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She looked at me with eyes wide, filled with both tears and horror. I understood why though.\n\nThe patient I had just seen, the one currently staring me down, was the one I just healed. She had apparently come back to thank me for healing her, but walked in on me whilst I was changing my clothes in my office.\n\nYou see when I heal people I more or less take their injuries onto my body. It was an incredible power I discovered when my sister had broken her arm after being thrown off her bike. I rushed over to help her and noticed her arm at a twisted angle and her horrible shrieks of pain whenever we moved.\n\nHearing her cry out in agony made me wish that it was me that was the one with the broken arm. Suddenly her broken arm righted itself and then I was the one screaming in agony.\n\nThe experience was very traumatic to be sure, but it led me to believe that I somehow had transferred her pain to me. I dwelled on this for quite a while we were on our way to the hospital for my injury. My sister looking at me with an unreadable look in her eyes and at her arm for a time.\n\nI ended up trying this again on one of my friends who had cut themselves with a shard of glass. Same result happened. I knew then that I had an amazing power and I wanted to help people.\n\nSo I made it my life's goal to become the best doctor I could possibly be , healing those without the means to do so and alleviating the pain of others. That meant enduring insane amounts of pain on daily basis depending on the degree of the injury. It was a secret that I was able to conceal with an acquired pain tolerance and lots of money spent on creams to conceal the many scars from this power of mine.\n\nA secret that was ousted by a woman who simply wanted to say thanks and apparently didn't know how to knock.\n\n\".....how....why...HOW DOES NO ONE KNOW ABOUT THIS?!\" she screamed at me, the tears she once held in her eyes streaming down her face.\n\nLooking towards her I spoke to her as I gestured for her to sit down in one of the chairs in front of my desk, she did so but dragged in around so she was right next to me.\n\n\"No one knows because I do not wish for them to know. If people knew the cost that I pay to heal others too many questions would be asked and I would rather they not be a concern in general\"\n\nTurning my chair in her direction I clasp her hands as best I can with one hand and wipe her tears with the other.\n\n\"I ask you not to reveal what you have seen today, to keep quiet and tell nary a soul. Can you do that for me, please? I cannot afford nor do I wish to become a science experiment for some government wishing to figure out my power for harm. Its not a weapon, but a gift to be used. Can I trust you to keep this secret for me?\" I all but pleaded with her whilst tightly holding her hand.\n\nShe looked at me for what felt like hours without speaking, contemplating what I had asked of her. Then finally she responded.\n\n\"I'll keep your secret for you Doctor, however I have one condition.\"\n\nRelieved but curious I asked, \" and what condition would that be?\"\n\n\"Let me help you\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You occasionally like to pass the time in school by drumming/tapping on your desk. This time, however, the desk clicks open after you tap off a rhythm." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rip-tap-tap…rip-taptap.\n\nJuan’s pencil met the desk with tiny metallic clicks, as his eraser had long been chewed away.\n\nRip-tap-tap…-tap-tap.\n\nThey rhythm changed slightly. Somewhere, a wheezy voice was explaining something about foil. Juan wasn’t sure what foil had to do with math. Ahead of him, blonde hair was scribbling furiously in her notebook. To his left, a grimy sneaker was bobbing up and down off the floor, keeping pace with Juan’s beat.\n\nRip-tap-tap…rip-taptap.\n\n“Juan.”\n\nThe wheezy voice paused for just a moment, and Juan’s pencil was stilled.\n\nJuan leaned his head forward on his hands, and made eye contact with the board. When the lesson continued, Juan leaned back and looked around the room.\n\nFading, curled posters lined the walls. A small window in the corner of the room let some sun in, but the rest of the room was brightened by an occasionally flickering set of pale lights. What should have been neat and organized rows of desks looked a lot more tired and frail. They had rust on their legs, and years of etchings on the surface. “Jeff sucks” was carved in the lower left of Juan’s desk. Juan didn’t know anyone named Jeff, but he was glad it wasn’t his name.\n\nHalf the desks in the room were wobbly, and the other half squeaked when opened. Three of the desks were somehow locked, and unusable. They had been like this for years. Jeff was sitting at one of these desks. Instead of keeping his notebook and folders in the desk like everyone else, Jeff’s materials were slouching against the tile underneath his desk.\n\nRip-tap-tap…rip-taptap.\n\nFor months, Juan sat at his same desk. For months, Juan assumed it was empty. Every time he moved it, every time he sat down, and even the time he accidentally flipped it, the desk sounded empty. Juan even tried peering through the crack between the desk and the top once. But he couldn’t see anything inside.\n\nFor months Juan thought the desk was empty. But now, for the first time, he heard something from inside.\n\nIt was a growl.\n\nRip-tap-tap…rip-taptap.\n\n“Juan.”\n\nThe wheezy voice presented another warning.\n\nJuan kept tapping, but he didn’t do it on purpose. His mind was on the noise from his desk.\n\nRiptap-tap…rip-taptap.\n\n“Juan, enough.”\n\nHe looked around the room eyes wide, wondering if others had heard the growl. A few were staring at him with apprehension, but their concern was almost pity, knowing Juan would be sent to the office if he continued.\n\nRiptaptap…rip-taptap.\n\n“Juan, last chance.”\n\nJuan could feel the pencil tapping, and could hear the wheezy voice. But he didn’t dare move. Something was in that desk.\n\nRiptaptap…rip-taptap.\n\n\"Juan...\"\n\nJuan felt like his stomach was falling.\n\nRiptaptap…rip-taptap.\n\n“Juan, enough!”\n\nJuan felt sick.\n\nRiptaptap…rip-taptap.\n\n“Juan!”\n\nRiptapriptap-riptaptap.\n\nClick.\n\n…\n\nThere was a brief pause, as something clicked from inside Juan’s desk.\n\nClick, click.\n\nA second desk from around the room. Then a third.\n\nJuan stared at the etching “Jeff Sucks”, eyes wide. He was holding his breath. Slowly, the graffiti began to rise as the desk, of its own accord, began to open." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: When the alien king declared war on humanity, he thought their pleas to reconsider were for their own sake; he is slowly learning they were not begging for mercy, they were trying to show it, and now its too late." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Warning, mentions sex and STDs, but not in any detail.\n\n\"I DON'T UNDERSTAND!\" roared the king, waving a report. \"This report\" (the king shoved said report at J'na, his chief medical advisor) \"assured us that none of their airborne, waterborne, or foodborne illnesses could affect our species. Was it wrong?\"\n\n\"No, sir\" replied J'na, looking anxious and fretful.\n\n\"How about this report?\" demanded the king, shoving another one at J'na. Unlike their uncivilized distant ancestors, modern kings do not wield sharp or explosive weapons, preferring instead loud voices and reports. \"It says the earthlings have only rudimentary technology for creating viral weapons, and no knowledge of species from outside their planet. Does it lie?\"\n\n\"No, your majesty\" said an even more anxious J'na.\n\n\"Well then why does he\" (gestures toward Zalnch, chief military advisor) \"report that our troops are dropping like flies, just seventeen turns into the campaign?\"\n\n\"Ah, well, sir\" started J'na, fumbling for how to phrase the problem. \"You see, we didn't predict this route of infection. So . . . there have been . . . copulating relations between our troops and the earthlings . . .\"\n\n\"Yes, I am aware that our species has sex, goodness knows there would be fewer of us if we didn't. And I understand that it occurs between our species and others during conquest, though for the life of me I don't understand the attraction\" answered the king, who had switched to boredly drumming his fingers on the throne armrests.\n\n\"Well, then, um . . . that's how our troops are getting infected\" replied J'na, unsure of how much detail to give.\n\n\"We took skin samples, mucous and saliva samples, none of them are deadly to our species! Unless this report was very wrong!\" (more paper, more shoving)\n\n\"No, that report was correct too. We failed to even think that their reproductive organs would harbor specialized pathogens. It just doesn't make sense, how could a species survive transmitting diseases while procreating? We've never seen this in any other species, and we've conquered a fair few.\"\n\n\"Okay . . . how do we handle this then? We tell our troops to cease relations with earthlings immediately. I know it's an unusual order, but if we're strict, they'll comply and it'll stop our losses. Zalnch, get on it!\"\n\nZalnch looked unamused. \"We instituted that rule on the eighth turn. It's too late, the pathogens are too powerful, they're already moving directly between our species. And as you know, sex is not just for expanding our species, it also serves an important social function. Our military could not function without the social bonding is creates. We're having a hard time convincing them that their lives depend on not doing what comes naturally.\"\n\n\"So then . . . how do we fix this? How do earthlings survive?\"\n\n\"Well sir, for starters, none of their most common sexually transmitted diseases are deadly quite as quickly to them. They do have such diseases that kill them quickly, but the pathogens that have infected our military are apparently uniquely terrible for us. The earthlings have a variety of devices that they use to reduce disease transmission, and we could invent and manufacture similar products for our species. It'll take a little while to ramp up production through.\" J'na turned to the military advisor, saying \"I don't think we'll have enough ready in time to continue with our invasion on schedule.\"\n\nThe king sighed, and said \"very well then. Zalnch, pull back our troops, and keep them away from the main population. Keep trying to educate them on the dangers, and try to at least isolate them into groups. J'na, start two emergency projects, one to find a vaccine or cure for the known diseases, and one to develop and produce protection. You have whatever resources Zalnch can spare. I guess for now, we'll have to make love, not war.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: God, with his infinite ability, has created all possible realities and dimensions, including one in which he does not exist. Existing in the godless reality, you're awoken in the middle of the night to find the Archangel Gabriel in your kitchen, fridge door open, chugging juice from the carton." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I really wasn’t sure how to react.\n\nWhat’s a girl to do when she goes for a midnight glass of water and finds a strange man in her kitchen? Does she call for her husband? Does she back slowly away before slamming the door and fleeing for the nearest firearm? (Praise Be to the Founding Fathers for the 202nd Amendment!) Yelling for Joe seemed like a dangerous option. He was a heavy sleeper, and all the way upstairs. Meanwhile, the stranger was already turning and fixing his glowing silver eyes on me.\n\n“You don’t need to bother Joe.“\n\nHis voice matched his features. Supernaturally good-looking, set in an expression of calm that I wouldn’t normally have associated with a burglar. Then again, most burglars wouldn’t be chugging my favorite brand of carrot juice. Even Joe only tolerates the stuff when I put it in our daily health smoothie. The voice was slow and smooth, but unnaturally so. Like a human voice that had hit the limits of its positive qualities and then gone beyond. Even Martel Friedlman could learn something from this guy.\n\n“Oh,” I answered, or something equally intelligent as my hand dropped from the knob. “Okay.“\n\nThe man turned to face me. “I hope you don’t mind about your juice. I arrived a little early and got bored waiting for you to come downstairs.“\n\nI had no idea what to say to that. The situation was already overwhelming, and this strange burglar was acting like we were good friends. Like he had just dropped by unannounced, but would have expected us to be willing to put him up in the spare bedroom anyway. Or to share our juice.\n\nCome to think of it, I was the only person I knew who enjoyed carrot juice. Who was this strange man?\n\n“You’re going to need to go up to bed soon,“ the man said. “So I don’t have the time to answer all of your questions. But I just wanted to come by and give you official notice. You have been selected.”\n\nA moment of silence as I waited for him to elaborate.\n\n“What?” My voice was uncertain. I started to worry again, and only then realized that I had stopped worrying at some point. Maybe it was the man’s voice? Or the way that he seemed totally relaxed and unthreatening? “What do you mean? Selected for what?!”\n\nThe man shook his head then, laughed softly to himself. Then he took another swig from the carton. “This stuff is actually pretty good,” he commented. ”I don’t understand why Marcy doesn’t like it.“\n\n“I know. What a weirdo!” I responded, before I realized how uncomfortable I should be that he had brought up an in-joke with my best friend.\n\nThe man smiled, and for the second time I forgot that I should be worried. He put the juice back in the refrigerator and closed it. The glowing yellow light was immediately gone, and then I was standing in the dark in my kitchen with the vague, shadowy figure of a stranger a dozen feet away.\n\n“You’re going to have the kid you’ve been hoping for.“ The man’s voice came out of the dark, and it was the same even tone. He didn’t say it like he was granting the wish Joseph and I had been hoping for for years. He didn’t even say it like we had a choice in the matter.\n\nThe sound of soft footsteps. He was walking towards the back door onto the porch.\n\nI didn’t say anything. What was I hoping? That the strange man would leave, as quickly as he’d come? Leave me in peace? Or did I feel a strange camaraderie?\n\n“It’s funny,“ he said, and I could tell that he was looking back over his shoulder at me. Thoughtfully. “The Big Guy thought he’d messed up, not inserting himself into this reality.” He paused. “But you seem to have been doing things pretty right.“ He chuckled, softly. “And they definitely don’t do veggie juice like that where I come from.”\n\nThe man was gone, then. I think he went out the back door. Or through the window. Or... well, he was gone. I didn’t know what I felt, then. But I kind of missed him, for a second. And then, when I went into the fridge and shook the carton, I wished he’d left enough juice for our smoothies." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You are a wizard. And you love to help people. Your partner however is getting fed up with you taking days or even weeks to find a sorcerous solution to mundane household tasks." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Martha pulled open the full dishwasher, plates and cups clanking loudly as the door banged on the kitchen floor. She signed heavily, her brow furrowing as she roughly pulled the dishes and set them onto the counter. Sorting the silverware, she looked out the window into the yard. Sunlight shined off the morning dew dotting the grass, and a bird sung as it skimmed low to the ground. She smiled, her anger evaporating, and closed her eyes to absorb the peaceful moment. Her eyes then shot open, as a sentient piece of dog shit ran across the yard, screaming at the top of its lungs.\n\n\"Get away from me you monster!\" The poop ran on tiny legs, and nearby other excrement fled in panic. Their minuscule voices were high pitched, and their shrieks grew louder as a man lumbered into view. He ran after them, firing bolts of purple energy from a stick held loosely in his hand, cursing loudly.\n\n\"God. Fucking. DAMN IT!\" Martha roared, running from the kitchen out onto the back deck. \"Roger I am going to KILL YOU.\"\n\nRoger did not look up, focused on the task of reversing his sentience spell. He hit several of the creatures, reverting them to regular piles of dung, but many others scurried under the deck for safety. Looking up with a sheepish grin, he struggled to maintain eye contact with his furious wife.\n\n\"Hey honey. Sorry I just, I was trying a bit of a complex hex. You see it makes all the dumps Rufus leaves everywhere just sort of, walk away on their ow-\"\n\n\"Roger. Just pick it up, and put it in a trash bag. We have been over this countless times.\"\n\nUnder the deck, the remaining poop creatures conspired at a rapid pace. They decided on a system of government, elected a leader, and he appointed a army commander. The newly created military began to fortify the area under the deck, building tiny battlements to prevent invasion.\n\n\"Great, the deck has been colonized by shit. Way to go Roger, way to go.\"\n\n\"Sweetie, we are wizards. Why would I pick up the dog's poop by hand, then we're no better than regulars. I'd be just like...Steven.\"\n\nRoger narrowed his eyes, looking over at the man barbecuing in the next yard. He waved jauntily, calling over.\n\n\"Hey Rog! Searing up some brats, you should bring the missus over!\"\n\nRoger seethed, mumbling under his breath. \"Fucking...sear you up Steven...you prick.\"\n\n\"Hon! Can you listen to me? I'm serious, you need to work on this.\"\n\n\"I'm...your right Martha. I'm sorry. I love you.\"\n\nThe two hugged, and Martha went back inside. As the door closed, Rufus slid through, bounding up to Roger.\n\n\"Thanks a lot bud. Your poor diet is causing me marital problems.\" Roger reached down to pet the dog, watching as the poop began to construct a small nuclear power plant. \"its just not fair I have to pick up your poop. I mean, you should really do it yourself...\"\n\nRoger looked at the dog, and the wand in his hand. He glanced at the house, making sure his wife wasn't watching, then smiled deviously as he flicked his wrist." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: After 10 years of crime fighting you’re sick of being the hero the city needs, instead you’ll become the villain the city deserves." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Another week goes by, another handful of “criminals” rot behind bars. The newspapers get their headlines. The politicians get their talking points, and the people of Delta City can rest easier on their sofas and recliners knowing that the boogie men prowling their streets have faced a boogie man of their own. It paints a nice picture.\n\nProblem is, it’s an illusion. When I first donned the yellow suit and fought back against the crime ravaging this City, it was all so clear. Black and white. You break the law, you face justice, and if the cops in blue couldn’t dispense it, the Lion of Delta City would see it done. The people’s embrace came quickly. I was on the front page of every newspaper, and I my snarling mask appeared within the first five minutes of the six o’clock news. To the people of this city, their hero had arrived.\n\nAs the years have fallen away the feeling has changed. The accomplishment, the sense of righteous achievement that used to fill my chest like a breath of cool air, has eroded into a residue of dry dust. Each time I crack the skull of some teenager holding up a seven eleven, each time I throw a crazy eyed drug dealer through a wall, the void inside opens just a little bit more. Whiskey used to help. Used to plug the hole for a time like duct tape over a crack in the ceiling. Now though, it just pisses me off more.\n\nBeneath the illusion of “bad men” doing “bad things” to the “good people” of Delta City, you find something different. Something ugly. You find troubled kids raised in third world poverty, without proper medical care or mental health treatment. Without a real education. You discover a whole class of people with nothing in front of them but minimum wage, crippling debt, and the allure of quick money through crime. You see an oligarchy of wealthy, “old money” families who take turns at political power like kids at a playground. You find a city that’s sick. And nobody to heal it.\n\nMaybe it doesn’t have to be that way. As I sit by the fire, Johnny Walker sliding like acid down my throat, a realization grabs me by the throat. I have been a part of this sickness. I have been just another virus, infecting the neighborhoods of this city and replicating my diseased brand of justice throughout the media. No more. The powerful of Delta City have too long prodded me with their chairs, cracked their whips across my back, and stuck their heads in my mouth. Knowing I wasn’t going to bite. Showing the poor of this city just how in control they were. No more.\n\nThe Lion of Delta City will be their pet no longer. My jaws will snap shut. The blood of the corrupt will sooth the sickness of this city like medicine, my violence the immune response these people have waited upon for generations. They will call be a villain. And perhaps that’s what I am. But what this city needs is a purge, starting from the upper echelons of power and ending with a revolution in the slum gutters. A hero could never accomplish this.\n\nBut a villain can." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: The only person standing in the way of 100% renewable energy is Old Man Jenkins." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I gave the president a tour of the new solar plant. It was my brainchild and the proposed flagship of a new national power-grid designed to cut-off American dependence on fossil fuels. As chief engineer for the project I showed-off all the miraculous new ways my team and I had thought of making solar power more efficient and answered questions from the White House delegation. President Jenkins, however, seemed to view the plant with a complete lack of interest and never spoke on the tour. At it's conclusion, I asked for his thoughts on my life's work.\n\n\"I want that thing destroyed immediately.\"\n\n\"Mr. President, once we turn new national grid online, with it's combination of various forms of green energy, it could potentially save-\"\n\n\"The old system is better.\"\n\n\"Sir, we no longer have to depend on foreign sources to power our homes and businesses. In the interest of national security-\"\n\n\"In the interest of national security, you have to destroy it. It provides a massive target for our nation's enemies. Also, there is no telling what the effects of the world's largest consumer of oil suddenly switched to alternative sources of energy could be. Economic chaos, war, massive unemployment; these are just the things I'm thinking off of the top of my head. It's far too dangerous.\"\n\nI hated having to argue with him. It wasn't that I believed he was right. Everything he mentioned could be averted with some skillful diplomacy, top-of-the-line security systems, and an implementation timeline that allowed for a decent amount of worker retraining. He was just so pig-headed. He had been known for his rash decision-making ever since he first caught the public's attention. Any time he decided that he wanted to get something done, he would make sure it was done or cause a metaphorical bloodbath in the failed attempt. It actually earned him some a lot of admirers early in his political career. But, as he aged, his stubbornness turned into a complete unwillingness to work with others or accept new information that could change the opinions of even the biggest hardliners in his administration. It was little wonder that most of the country referred to the president simply as \"Old Man Jenkins.\"\n\n\"There are simple preventative measures we could take to minimize the risks you've mentioned. I think, and the American People think, that the benefits outweigh any potential dangers.\"\n\n\"To hell with the American People!\"\n\nWith that he ripped off his jacket to reveal a suicide vest with the detonator in his hand.\n\n\"Mr. President, you can't! Don't throw your life away. Don't throw away my life's work. Don't throw away billions of tax-dollars and America's hope for energy-independence.\"\n\n\"Fuck that! I'm no chicken!\"\n\nAnd as I watched the secret service scramble to keep the President from committing a suicidal act of terrorism against his own country, as watched his thumb press down on the button of the detonator I hear a familiar phrase. It was a phrase that first catapulted the President into fame. It would become his campaign slogan. It was two words that started as an pop-culture punchline, but soon came to bear the weight of the government of the United States of America. They were also the last words I would ever hear.\n\n\"LEEEEEEROOOY JEEEEENNKINNS!\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: Aliens make first contact with earth. Their first words are \"we've always known you were here, God told us everything about you. Now that we're her we understand why he doesn't speak to you anymore.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "BOOM. the shot range in my ears and distorted everything around me. I saw blood shooting out in all directions and some getting on my face. I looked to my fellow soldier standing beside me. He was screaming something but I couldn't make it out. After what seemed an eternity reality hit me in the face. I looked back over at Sgt Greer who screamed at me \"Get the Hell Down!!!\" BOOM.\n\nI woke up hours later fading in and out of consciousness. I slowly began to feel my senses coming back to me until I felt something unnatural overcome me. I looked over to see my left arm completely gone. I freaked out and began screaming and at the same time doctors and nurses ran over to me to hold me down. Everything became so surreal and I had lost most memory of the prior few hours that occurred.\n\nAfter a few minutes of coming to terms with my condition I finally was able to talk to my doctor about the events that took place. According to him me and my platoon had been ambushed by the Khan Glal which is a new terrorist threat that had originated recently. He said that I shot and killed their leader just as they ambushed us and my platoon killed off the rest of them. As this happened a grenade landed right next to our foxhole and before I could get the rest of my body out of the way the grenade went off blowing off my arm.\n\nWar was everything to me. Death had always been in my life and many people that I knew. I still remember the fall of America back in 2084 and how my family squandered the streets of Manhattan from the big blast. I still remember the smell in the air, the smell of smoke and death. I had always wondered why the world was so cruel until the day \"they\" showed up.\n\nIt was five years ago when we first made contact with the Geusianglor a race of aliens from the Turantuala nebula from the planet AC-1879b25. I remember that day because it was the day I enlisted into the United American Federation army who were at war with the States of American Freedom. This may be difficult to understand but America was no more, it had split into two different countries: the American Freedom States and the Federation of United America.\n\nThe day they came I had just enlisted. I remember looking into the sky as hundreds of sky-scraper like pods ascended from the heavens. All broadcasts from around the world stopped and looked upon this moment as these aliens ascended all around earth. When the Geusianglor showed up they broadcasted their message: We've always known you were here, God told us all about you. Now that we are here we understand why he doesn't talk to you anymore. Your existence is that of a virus, consuming all of life and resources until it is depleted only to move to another location to destroy that place as well. Your a race of greed and power who's hunger will never be satisfied. God told us how you were his spectacle of creation... his ultimate species. And here you are now on the lowest spectrum. You are a race of war and death. We give you one more chance to prove yourselves to God or you will be damned for eternity. You have five years to end all wars and bring earth back to its knees for God or he will ultimately unleash his plan... to take those who believe and vanquish the rest.\n\nBy now you must know why I'm where I am. I was in a war, fighting for peace.. but humans could never have peace and luckily for me I have made my peace with God, tomorrow is the day of damnation.. the day where they came five years ago to warn us and it seems that the world has only gotten worse... When the Geusianglors left all those years ago they left with one last message for humanity: change your ways or face your end. It seems we are facing our end.\n\nI wake up the next morning and ask to be pushed outside in my wheelchair, I wanted my last day to be peaceful and it was so. Half of the world was in chaos and I was here to admire the view. The countdown began and as it neared its last second it happened.. a flash in the sky brighter than anything I could ever describe could be seen around the whole world and a voice that made the ground tremble spoke: Come my children who believed in me.. it is time. I guess you could say they were right I guess you could say we got our second chance. For those who didn't make it..... May God have mercy on your soul." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You were warned the abyss would stare back into you. What they didn't tell you was it would offer you a cookie." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "'Look not into the abyss, for as long as you stare into the abyss, it gazes long into you.'\n\nThat was the written motto for every void wizard that dared the walk down the path of Zero Magic. Now the motto was pretty simple, there is darkness inside everyone regardless of who you are, unless you're a toddler looking for cookies apparently. So when Jack came home tired and beleaguered from his Fourth Circle exam, not to say the least, was very surprised to find his little sister eating cookies with..... actually he wasn't quite sure what it was. 'It' being the operative world.\n\nWell, let's not get ahead of ourselves, how about we start at the beginning.\n\nLily was hungry, hungry and bored. Her older brother had been stressing about passing his exam and becoming a Void Mage. She didn't remember her parents and the only other person who watched over her, other than her brother, was the her baby sitter Nyra. Unfournetly Jack being as stressed as he was forgot to call her on the day he left for his exam. Not the first time so Lily knew what to do and who to call. And she was in no real trouble other than maybe she was quite peckish at the moment. Now Jack in his rushed had left several of his books behind like always and Lily really loved staring at the symbols and pictures. She loved to draw and paint so she decided to try some magic to solve her current dilemma. She'd seen Jack activate certain spells that caused things to come out of thin air. Now that spell was a spacial storage spell, Jack didn't make things out of thin air, he stored his things in a special pocket dimension and grabbed things as needed. Now Lily didn't know that and she didn't know how to read Void runes either. And yet, when has not understanding something ever stopped children or humanity for that matter in trying something. Lily flipped through the books and pages looking for the prettiest picture until she stumbled quite magically on an incomplete elder summoning. Now these things aren't naturally in textbooks for Adept but this particular summoning was not only unfinished but also proven to be a complete dud. It was a relic from time long past, so it was there for simply for reference. She stared and smiled choosing this very summoning. She ran over and grabbed her favorite crayons Jack had gifted her for her fifth birthday just 2 months ago. The summoning circle was incomplete but Lily was rather creative. Mixing up her colours choosing blue, green and red. Now she did know from what little Jack had taught her, that to get something, you must first give something. So she ran around the house, grabbing some cat hair, her favorite doll and one of Jack's shirts and some leftover pizza from Jack's morning breakfast. She deposited all that into the middle of the circle and picked up the book. Chanting random gibberish she thought was correct. And lo and behold, nothing happened. This went on for a hour before she gave up and began to tear up. \"I just wanted a friend to have cookies with,\" she cried, \"please, it's so lonely. And stupid Jack's always too busy to play and mom and dad still haven't come home.\" Now the Void is always listening, these summoning are like direct phone calls to certain....things. Now Lily's call wasn't the best, but it wasn't the worst. And something had indeed been listening, a thing without name. A being whose existence had yet to be documented by civilization. A powerful thing that had existed since the dawn of time, a wanderer, a thing of rather limitless power and he was listening. So it decided to come to her aide, with cookies of course. After all, what party doesn't have cookies?" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: The year is 2071. You went to great lengths to acquire something highly illegal. Mere possessing it could get you killed. You open the packet over your kitchen counter. In front of you, there's 4 pounds of red meat. Like, for real. From a cow." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ace maneuvered his way through thick crowds and even thicker smog, gripping the weighty bundle he carried with him. He could feel the piercing gaze of an unseen foe, a predator lurking in the shadows waiting for him to slip up in the most minimal way to snatch his newest prized possession. Every random pedestrian turned into a potential enemy, every camera into damning evidence. He pulled his hood down ever so slightly to make sure a bird’s eye view would not reveal his identity and his pace accelerated with each given step. His state of anxiety almost made him trip over the subway stairs.\n\nAlright Ace… This is the home stretch…\n\nHe traversed the dirty hallways, head pointed straight down to avoid the gaze of the officers stationed at every corner. Before long, he began recognizing the patterns of grime on the floor, realizing he was a few short steps from the next train stop, right on time to make the 10:30 arrival towards home. But his sneaky tactics finally caught up with him as his head and body clashed with another, much larger figure in front, dropping Ace’s small frame into the ground without mercy.\n\n“Watch it, buddy!” complained the deep and raspy voice of an officer of the law. The blue overcoat, shiny boots and ridiculous helmet gave it away quite easily. Ace quickly fumbled around, looking for the pouch he was holding prior to the collision. He noticed it laying a few inches in front of him. He desperately rushed towards it, but before he could wrap his claws around it, a massive robotic arm beat him to it.\n\n“Whatcha got there?” Asked the tall officer, staring at the man on the floor before analyzing the purple backpack.\n\n“I-I’m sorry for the inconvenience, sir…” Ace managed to stutter out. “C-Could you p-p-please return my bag?”. The policeman’s cybernetic eye planted itself squarely on his sweaty face.\n\n“You’ve been selected for a random search, my friend.” He said with a fake smile on his face. Without letting him reply, the officer forced the pouch open and began searching for whatever he could find. He grabbed a bundle of books and dropped them to the floor, he did the same for the small pieces of tech that Ace had placed as a distraction. Every time his hand disappeared into the bag, Ace’s heart skipped a beat, his breathing stopping along with it and whenever he pulled something that was not the main product he was carrying, he got a small moment of relief until the process repeated itself. After many attempts, the officer felt something unusual inside of the backpack, pulling out a small pill bottle.\n\n“Alprazolam?” He read out loud. “You got a prescription for this, son?”\n\nAce quickly began patting down every pocket in his jacket until he found a crumpled up piece of paper which he promptly handed to the man in front of him. Both of the deputy’s eyes scanned the note for any inconsistencies, coming out empty handed.\n\n“Hm… Alright, looks like you’re clean.” He concluded, returning the prescription to the quivering Ace. “Maybe you should take some of those… You don’t look right.”\n\nHe quietly thanked the policeman and as quickly as he had bumped into him, Ace disappeared into the crowd and boarded the subway home. To his relief, the rest of the trip was much less eventful, finally he was able to reach the entrance of his house and open it. He immediately dropped to the floor, his breathing jagged and his eyesight blurry. The lights turned on shortly thereafter, making him jump in place.\n\n“Woah…” Called out a voice from the inside. “You good bro? You look like you just returned from Dynasties… And not in the good way…”\n\n“Fuck… you… Malik…” He let out through his uneven breaths. Malik shot him a wide-eyed grin as he offered a helping hand to his friend.\n\n“So… did you get the stuff?” He asked in an impatient tone.\n\n“Of course I got it… almost got caught by the pigs though…”\n\nMalik spat out a hearty laugh. “But since they didn’t then that means the plan worked, didn’t it?”\n\nAce threw the bag atop the kitchen counter.\n\n“Yeah, man, congrats…” He said sarcastically. “You managed to even use my anxiety as a way to smuggle illegal goods…”\n\n“Well yeah, dude! Ain’t no way I could ever get away with this shit. Cops see a lil’ anxious white boy and they put their guard down, is like a super power! Also it did help explain the Niagara Falls in your pits.\n\nMalik rummaged through the bag, opening a hidden zipper in its inside to reveal a moist, bright red package. He quickly pulled it out to reveal a sizable chunk of one of the most illegal products in New York: four pounds of farm grown, real cow beef.\n\n“My old man said that before the whole green revolution… You could get this stuff at a supermarket for like twelve bucks…”\n\n“Must have been some good times… So what do we do with it?”\n\nMalik placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “We boutta eat good tonight, man.” Both men laughed as they turned on the flames of the stovetop and pulled out a small frying pan which would also taste beef for the first time after a lifetime of searing artificial meats and bug patties." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Your hostage looks quite disturbed with you using the element of surprise to kill the hero in the middle of your own speech" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Destructo watched with glee as Wonderguy and the hostage both struggled in their tight bondages.\n\nWonderguy spit out his mouth gag and glared at the snickering villain. \"This will be the last time you terrorize the town of Cawthorne, Destructo!\" He shouted, trying to find a sharp object to cut the ropes with.\n\n\"Destructo laughed at the top of his lungs. \"The last time? Why, my plans to ruin this city have just begun!\" With another cackle, Destructo snapped his crooked fingers. \"Henchmen! Turn on the projector!\" Two burly short men in white jumpsuits hobbled to the back of the room. One turned off the lights while the other set up the projector. Destructo eyed Wonderguy and the hostage carefully, making sure that the two meddling fools didn't foil his plan.\n\nThe projector turned on, revealing a PowerPoint title slide reading \"Destructo's Twelve Step Plan to End Cawthorne City.\" Destructo laughed himself into a choking fit. \"Excuse me,\" he said, splashing a stream of hogspit from his mouth to the floor. The hostage, finally able to get rid of his gag, cringed. \"Let me go, you ugly toad!\" He screamed.\n\n\"Call me that again and you'll be the one choking on your words!\" Destructo screamed. \"Where was I? Ah yes, my plan.\" Destructo slid one hand behind his back and straightened his crooked back, standing like an evil butler. \"Henchman, next slide.\"\n\nThe henchman pressed a button which turned on the next slide. It read:\n\n\"Steps 1-11: Shoot Wonderguy.\"\n\nBefore anyone in the room could process what was happening, Destructo pulled from behind his back a pistol and fired directly at Wonderguy, blasting him right in the forehead. Wonderguy jolted up for a split second and fell back to his seat, completely still and slack-jawed.\n\nThere was an awkward silence for a long time.\n\n\"Dude, what the fuck?\" the hostage said. His face was twisted with confusion. The henchmen also seemed quite uncomfortable with what happened.\n\n\"What?\" Destructo said, his face matching the confusion of everyone else's in the room. \"What did you think I was gonna do to him?\"\n\n\"Fucking tell him your evil scheme, that's what.\"\n\n\"I-What? What the hell makes you think I owe him the courtesy of knowing my entire fucking evil scheme?\" Destructo boiled with anger at the hostage's nerve. He was the one holding the gun. He was in control here!\n\n\"You said you had a twelve part plan,\" the hostage said. \"But you killed Wonderguy on step eleven. Don't you think that's a little messed up?\"\n\n\"Messed up? MESSED UP?! I kidnapped you! I killed your entire family and your dog in front of you, just for the fun of it. I used you as an innocent civilian trap to get Wonderguy's justice boner going, and I planned on killing both you and Wonderguy here, leaving evil to go unpunished throughout the city. All of that, and me keeping the last step of my plan from him is the messed up part?\"\n\n\"Yeah pretty much.\"\n\nDestructo's lungs didn't have the capacity for a sigh that could make him feel any less disappointed with humanity. \"I'm lost,\" he said in shock.\n\n\"I suppose you should tell me the last step of your plan, in respect of Wonderguy's memory.\" The hostage said calmly.\n\nDestructo chuckled. His eyes began to tear up as he erupted into a howl, falling to his knees with euphoria.\n\n\"Henchman,\" he said between fits of laughter, \"switch the slide.\"\n\nThe henchman did so, displaying the final slide:\n\nStep 12: Shoot the hostage.\n\nThe hostage gasped and struggled with his bondages again. Destructo paced over to him and let the pistol kiss his forehead. He gave the bound man a sweet grin before putting his finger on the trigger.\n\n\"Make sure to tell Wonderguy what the last step was.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: : Humanity survives an alien invasion, but not on their own right. The species is widely agreed to be too damn cute to exterminate." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Please be kind to me, this is my first Prompt. Also excuse spelling mistakes im in class and dont really want to read this over a thousand times.\n\n\"Alright.. so do we all agree on the plan?\"\n\nNods and sounds of agreement spilled around the room.\n\n“Good”.\n\nGalactic Councilor Iruyl was feeling pretty good.\n\nHe was still in his trial phase in his position as Councilor, his age and inexperience being the main reason they were still holding him on a leash, but thinks had been going very well.\n\nSure they were currently planning to Conquer a Civilization, but “Earth” as the Explorers had called it was the perfect location for the agriculture expansion the Galactic Council of Andromeda needed.\n\nThey had struggled for years in their own Galaxy and the expansion into the Milky way was a last push for hope to save themselves from starvation.\n\nFor all their advanced tech the inhabitens of Andromeda hadnt solved Hunger yet.\n\nIts being worked on.\n\nMany Council Species had become extinct or were dying out due to the lack of food.\n\nPeople where still struggling to figure out HOW it had come to the lack of food and the out right REFUSAL of nature to nourish its inhabitants. Most Scientist believed it was the Extreme overuse of resources and the lack of investment in food.\n\nThe Naps and Gundij species weren’t able to taste food so it had never been a point of interest for them, and had left the Ayun and Hiia to do most of the work.\n\nClearly that hadn’t worked out thought to himself.\n\nTurning to the Milky way for a new home had been a last push for hope.\n\nIruyl had to say he was extremely proud of proposal of the expansion, his well informed plan had surprised all his superiors and had earned him a spot on the Council as the representative for the Nap Species.\n\nEverything had gone smoothly and explorers and scientists alike had been send out to survey and study the galaxy to see if it would work as their personal little “farm”. Things had been going great, they had found several useful planets that could feed the entirety of the people in the Lexical Union.\n\nWell.. Everything HAD been going great.\n\nUntil the Scientists entered the Sol System.\n\nAnd discovered that the System was Inhabited.\n\nIt had hit them all by surprise, all studies about the milky way had shown that the System despite its abundence of inhabitable planets had been mostly empty, there had been some live here and there, mostly in the form of Animals and insects.\n\nBut no true Civilization, No Talking, Thinking, Feeling beings.\n\nUntil the Humans.\n\nThat’s what they called themselves.\n\nIt was surprisingly easy to learn more about the Humans, they used a vividly open and for all accessible network to store their information. Called Wikipedia. They had been unable to access most information from this network but enough to gain enough of an advantage to not only capture one of them, but also communicate with said captured specimen.\n\nNot that they had yet.\n\nThe council was set on being the first to speak to the Human, as a show of “respect”.\n\nIruyl thought it a waste of time.\n\nThey had the better ships, the better tech and the bigger numbers. They should just take the Sol system like they had the rest of the Milky way.\n\nBut alas he had been out voted.\n\nCouncilor Ami of the Ayun was INSISTENT that they handle this diplomatically.\n\nThe species was still young, having only recently started space travel and just this year had started expanding to the rest of their Solar system.\n\n“they deserved a chance” she had insisted.\n\nWaste of bloody time...\n\nBut Iruyl had kept his mouth shut. And thus he found himself in his current possition.\n\nWaiting together with the other Councilors (With a dozen Lesser politicians, generals and a handfull of Journalists) on the Prisoner in the grand council room of the Beidhander Station, one of the Temporary Stations set up in the Milky way.\n\nAs the slide doors opened, four Hiia Scientists rolled in some form of box that was emitting steam and seemed to have been locked.\n\n“One fresh Human” the Hiia Scientists Mumbled seemingly displeased as another scientist gave him a light pad on the back.\n\n“Is there a problem?” Councilor Gremm Asked.\n\nThe scientists gave each other knowing looks, and one stepped forward to speak.\n\nIruyl looked over at his fellow councilors and tried to settle back in his chair. Something was up.\n\n“If I may, my dear councilors” The tallest of the Scientists started rather nervously “It seems there have been complications.. with the Human”\n\n“What kind of Problems?” Gremm sneered obviosly displeased. Iruyl thought the man was a hard ass, but he too wasent too pleased with the idea of anymore complications with this operation.\n\n“I... Sir I believe it might be best … to show you”. The scientists looked at the ground and gave a signifying nod to the other scientists. They started entering a code into the rather small Container pulled on some claps and the box released steam and water into the air.\n\nThey pulled the lid of the box and revealed the Human.\n\nGasps and sounds of surprise was all Iruyl heard as he stared at the thing.\n\nThat tiny, tiny thing.\n\n“Is this a joke? You brought us a child??” Councilor gremm now obviously enraged at this supposed complication.\n\n“No I'm afraid not councilor. This is a fully grown Human Female.”\n\nAnother wave of reactions moved through the Room and Iruyl thought he even heard someone say “Awww”\n\nHe thought he had to agree. The Female was small and slim, her Physique reminded him of the one of the Hiia, except she seemed to have some form of lumps on her Chest. She also has a leg less.\n\nHer face was covered in some kind of fur, in a color so light it seemed almost white and it covered her head like a blanket over a child. On her face she some kind of bone? Ear? Extra testicle? That came out of the middle of her face.\n\nHer Arms where crossed in her lap, obviously to give some coverage.\n\nThey should have dressed her Iruyl thought to himself the poor thing.\n\nShe had two eyes, which was fairly normal for most council species but when she opened them, the pure blue of the seas that covered earth showed themselves as she slowly blinked them open.\n\n“By the others... we cant..” Iruyl started, looking over to his fellow councilors “We cant Kill them.”\n\n“Why not?” Councilor Gremm Grumbled, inspecting the girl.\n\n“She.. She is just too damm Cute.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You've met the girl of your dreams and she's everything you could have ever wanted. The only problem? Every year, for exactly five minutes, she goes into a trance-like state and tries her damndest to kill you. Neither of you know when it's coming." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The first time Nicole tried to kill me was on our third date. Normally, this would be an indication that the relationship wasn't working out. I mean, at that point in my life, I'd never dealt with my own attempted murder, so my reaction was...unique.\n\nWe were at this group cooking class. Fact check: have you realized how many ways you can die while cooking? Moving knives, boiling water, open flames, and blunt instruments can turn any kitchen into a certifiable death trap.\n\nI was halfway through mincing a clove of garlic while Nicole worked on chopping long, bright orange carrots. We were actually in the middle of a conversation (I forget the topic, but your date trying to stab you with a chef's knife will have that effect on your memory) when she abruptly stopped talking in mid sentence.\n\n\"You were saying?\" I prompted, focusing on my garlic, assuming she lost her train of thought.\n\nWhen she didn't respond I turned to face her, and that's when I noticed her blank stare, the knife held pointed at me as if I were a doomed teen from a slasher flick. I laughed nervously, debating internally about how I felt about a woman with such a pitch-dark sense of humor. As she made her move, I realized that this was more than a joke. I was terrified. I backed up, hitting my back on the stove behind me. Nicole turned, lighting both of burners my back was rested upon. I moved out of the way just as my J. Crew button up caught fire. Now, the stabbing attempt scared me, but I loved that shirt. I ripped it off, flailing in my undershirt stomping out the flames. Now I was angry.\n\nLuckily, at this time one of the other guys in the class came up behind her and wrapped her in a bear hug, the knife fell from her hand as she was subdued. Instantly I noticed the change in her. The blank stare was gone, replaced with wide-eyed shock and confusion. She slumped in his arms as others gathered around.\n\n\"Call the police!\" The instructor said to a teen recording the event on their phone.\n\n\"No!\" I heard someone shout. Realizing that it was myself protesting police involvement, I continued to dig deeper. \"It's a joke we have together. You know, 'tried to kill ya!'\" I made gun fingers at this. I don't know why, people react differently in times of extreme stress.\n\nFor reasons I'll never understand, I was standing up for her. She was released from the bear hug and we quickly vacated the cooking class. We walking to my car, I was scared for my life, holding the hand of a crying girl who just tried to burn me alive. Love is weird.\n\n\"So really, though. What the fuck?\" I didn't know what else to say.\n\nShe quickly explained that this was a part of her life, a curse of some kind that caused her to try to kill her partner once a year. It happened during different stages of the moon, but it changed every year. I won't go into the details because it's hard to explain and you probably wouldn't believe me anyways, but at that time I knew I was more in love than I'd ever been before.\n\nSince then, I have survived over 15 murder attempts. Sometimes, it's quick and she backs off after one try. Other times it goes for a full 5 minutes of Tom & Jerry like action. But she always comes back. She doesn't always remember all the details, but she knows what happened.\n\nI love my wife, and I always will. Everyone commits to \"til death do we part\" but when I said it on our wedding day 15 years ago, I honestly knew that I meant it." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Every single warhead in a full nuclear exchange between Russia and the United States malfunctions and fails to detonate. The following phone conversation between Putin and Obama." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There was a strange silence around the room, a silence that nobody liked to feel, but was as common as any other silence, one that left every advisor and secretary in the Oval Office with their mouths hanging open and their eyes wide, unbelieving at the events that had just unfolded in front of them, knowing that if there was something any of them would never expect, this would have been light years ahead of it.\n\nIt was an awkward silence, one that was felt around the world.\n\nObama turned around from the window, a massive missle five feet away on the other side, unmoving and sharing in the silence.\n\n\"Someon'es gonna uh...have to...move that,\" Obama said. \"Blocks the, uh...view.\"\n\nThe janitory in the corner cleared his throat, and every eye turned towards him, wondering how he had gotten in the first place. If the janitor had suddenly gotten into the Oval Office, then people knew it was going to be a strange day. \"I can take care of that,\" he said, then looked blankly down at his mop. \"Might need a bigger mop, though.\"\n\nObam nodded. \"We'll get you two mops.\"\n\nThe janitor opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment the phone rang. It sounded, to most people in the room, like laughter from a thousand leaders around the world.\n\n\"Answer it?\" Obama asked.\n\nEverybody in the room nodded simultaneously, even the janitor.\n\nObama picked up the phone, cleared his throat, sighed, said, \"Hello?\"\n\nStatic for a few moments as Obama was left to stare the Head of the CIA, FBI, his Generals, the Vice President, and his cabinet all in complete disbelief. If there was ever a more awkward moment in history, where that static seemed to last forever, nobody in the room could think of one.\n\n\"Is this Mr. Obama?\" came the heavy Russian accent of Putin over the line.\n\n\"Yes...yes it is.\"\n\n\"Oh. Ok. Good.\"\n\nSilence again, the only thing heard between the telephone heavy breathing, both of them like two teenagers trying to think of what to say to each other.\n\n\"Sorry about that,\" Obama finally said.\n\nPutin paused, then finally replied, \"Yeah, me too.\"\n\n\"So, uh, how many did you even throw at us?\"\n\n\"A hundred or so. Didn't really keep count. Just sort of said 'fuck it' and did what I wanted and didn't care about the outcome. I do that a lot, usually works out okay,\" Putin replied. \"How many did you send?\"\n\n\"A thousand,\" Obama said weakly.\n\n\"Shit, you guys hate us.\"\n\nObama frowned. \"Only because you hated us!\"\n\nPutin sighed. \"How did none of them go off? Not one nuke detonated. I have two of them sitting outside the capitol building right now.\"\n\nObama shrugged. \"Maybe it was an act of God.\"\n\nSilence, then, \"Nah, fuck that. Probably some other bullshit. Maybe it was the Chinese.\"\n\nObama snapped his fingers, his eyes widening. \"That's it! The Chinese! Those bastards have had it out for us for years now. For both of us.\" He looked to each of his cabinet members in turn, watching as their expressions turned to anger for what the Chinese had done to them.\n\n\"Oh yes, the Chinese, of course. How could we be so foolish? They stopped us from obliterating each other, and now they must pay.\"\n\nObama thought about it for a moment. \"Whaddaya say, the usual then?\"\n\n\"The usual?\"\n\nThe President rolled his eyes. \"We'll say there was a spy that sent the bombs that were faulty and then we'll go over to China, take out the governemnt, stay for a while until the people hate us and then leave and let a provisional government become corrupt and then let a massive terrorist group that murders thousands of innocent people rise up and take control of half the territory before we intervene again and act like it wasn't our fault that the terrorist group was there in the first place. Sound like a plan?\"\n\n\"Sounds good to me,\" Putin replied.\n\nObama nodded and smiled. \"Great, I'll call you with the details.\"\n\nThe other end hung up first.\n\nObama put the phone back down, beamed at all his cabinet members and advisors.\n\n\"So what now?\" the Head of CIA asked.\n\nObama smiled, tightening his tie. \"We do what America does best.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: : The fountain of youth isn't worth it." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Who wants to live forever?\n\nThink before you answer. Really think, try to picture all the opportunities eternal life offers, all the doors it closes. An impossible task, of course. Who can imagine infinity? Instead, pay attention to me. I have been around for a long time, much longer than your mind can comprehend right now. Though if you go on ahead with this idea, that will change. You should not, however. I am here to tell you exactly why immortality is not worth it.\n\nI know what you are expecting me to say. Something about watching all your loved ones wither and die, or falling in love only to lose that person to the ravages of time. I am not going anything about that. That story is widespread enough that anyone who deeply cares about even a single other person turns around and runs as soon as they realize what is really going on here.\n\nWhich should be enough of a clue as to what the first reason is, right? The people. You are clearly not the only person to stumble across this secret, since you are talking to me. And, given what I just told you, you know that almost every single ever-young has an absolute disregard for others. This ranges from simple passive disdain to an active hatred of everyone other than themselves. Ours is a long, friendless road, and even if you do not think so, there will come a day when you will look back, and wish you had never given up your humanity.\n\nBecause, while there might be a way to unshackle yourself from mortality without giving anything in return, this is not it. This process, it… Takes something, makes you less than human at the same time it lets you soar high above their limitations. Ever-youngs are… Twisted, selfish, feral. Even myself. If instead of talking, you had attacked me, I would have ripped you apart, piece by piece, and I would have felt no guilt. I have heard stories of some, even more ancient than myself, before the most well-known peril of immortality was widely acknowledged, who would return to their villages and, as a result of nothing but a minor slight, slaughtered everyone they had ever known. None of them has ever expressed remorse.\n\nIn case this has not convinced you to turn away, there is one more thing you need to know. Our fate. We cannot die. I am not simply talking about age. Any form of damage we sustain is healed. From a paper cut to immolation. And, for some reason, perhaps the loss of humanity, this healing is slow and painful. Excruciating. I know of one who was at the centre of a nuclear blast. He is still in agony, as his atoms rearrange themselves one by one. And this is the first fate of all who walk this path. We cannot, right now, leave our planet. It would draw too much attention, expose us. And with us, the secret. An ever-young is territorial. We do not want new beings with eternal life, making our world more crowded. So, for the time being, we are trapped on this planet. And perhaps there will come a day in which we can leave, and live elsewhere without much of a hassle. But perhaps such a moment will never come to pass. In that case, as the sun expands, we will be consumed, cursed to a near-eternal agony within its molten core. And if that is avoided, we will be cursed by entropy. When all stars die and all worlds vanish, we shall remain, suspended in a vast, endless void, for the rest of eternity. We have all come to terms with this, but you can still avoid it.\n\nSo, you have been warned. Now, will you turn around, go back to your life, and forget everything you know about this path? Or shall I have to kill you?" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: The good news is, you're immortal. The bad news is, you're about 50 years into serving your life sentence when you find out." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I tweaked the premise a bit, making it five years instead, since I had an interesting idea for it.\n\n<>\n\nPt 1 of 2:\n\n“I, Freya Talbot, swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. And God can suck a dick.”\n\nMy lawyer stared at me across the scratched and worn metal table between us. “I just need to know what happened, Freya. There’s no need to be facetious. I’m here to help you.”\n\nI smirked. Nobody helped anyone else, not out of the goodness of their heart, like this woman was insinuating. Caitlin Wade was getting paid for her work. My smirk slid into a frown. Almost nobody. There was Allie, my best friend out in the real world. I’d never see her again. I’d be trapped in this box for the rest of my life, subordinate, inferior to those who kept my cage doors locked.\n\n“He’d gotten a replacement,” I muttered, speaking to my handcuffed hands clasped in front of me rather than my lawyer. “And I realized I was replaceable. It’s all I ever was. All those men I fucked, all the money we earned, it was all on a ticking clock as Carlos kept his eyes open for fresh meat. Barely took a year.”\n\n“These men, they sexually abused you?” Caitlin spoke, her pen perpetually moving along the lines of the notepad in front of her.\n\n“I fucked them,” I answered, meeting her gaze. “Some of them smacked me around, but that was just par for the course. They always paid.”\n\nCaitlin nodded. We went through another hour of questions, and I could tell she was looking for anything that could help our case, but there was nothing. And I didn’t care. I couldn’t manage to scrounge up any interest in this case. I’d slit the throats of three sleeping men in Carlos’s house and stolen every dollar they’d had. But I’d left a trail along security cameras that had caught up to me, and here I was.\n\nAnd the case went exactly as I’d expected. The legal system dragged it out, as it always does, as if everyone who’s examining the facts doesn’t know how things will end right from the beginning. It was life in prison, and probably only because I didn’t live in a death penalty state. I supposed it should have mattered, I should have felt something. But I couldn’t manage to care. When I was shown to my cell and found the bed that I would call my home for the rest of my life, all I felt was that I was where I belonged.\n\nMaybe that would have made things easier if I’d walked along that path for the rest of my life, but my path diverged sharply. And the first time was when I met Kizzy, my roommate. She was in for murder too, her brother, though she never volunteered any more information. I never asked, since I didn’t want to talk about my past either.\n\nBut somehow, we bonded. Close quarters for years will do that. Humans crave company, we need it, or we descend into madness. Kizzy’s case was trickier than mine though, so she was sentenced to twenty-five years, maybe twenty if she got early parole. She still had a life ahead of her when she got out, so that fact tended to curl in my stomach in a ball of resentment and anger on the days I was depressed. But I had a friend, and twenty years was a long time.\n\nFive years in was that second sharp turn. So sharp, it cut me.\n\nThe dynamics of a woman’s prison are probably less severe than you’d find in men’s prisons, but we have our quarrels, same as any other humans on Earth. This one ended with a shiv to my throat.\n\nI remember Kizzy leaning over me, her eyes wide as saucers, desperately trying to stop the bleeding with her hands, a futile effort. Blood gushed from the precise strike on my artery, pooling around me and soaking into my prison garb. Kizzy was screaming, but after a while her voice blurred, and then so did my vision. And everything went dark.\n\nWaking up was a surprise, I’ll say that much.\n\nIn hindsight I was grateful not to be in a body bag. I sat up on the long metal table they used for autopsy, feeling nothing but confused. My hand rose to my throat, feeling for anything, a bandage, a scar, but found only smooth skin.\n\nMy throat and clothing were stained with blood, leaving me cold and uneasy, so I slowly walked across the floor of the morgue to the infirmary, where there were two women seated at a small table, talking in hushed voices. “Hello?” I asked, the daze I was in coloring my voice.\n\nThey both looked over at me. And one of them screamed, leaping to her feet and making the sign of the cross. I narrowed my eyes at her, vaguely insulted, acting like I was some kind of zombie. I sighed, at a loss, and looked to the other woman there, who was staring at me with eyes bulging in shock. “Can someone tell me what the fuck’s going on?”\n\nI’d been dead. That’s what was going on. I was handcuffed without delay (though I was first given a new uniform to wear) and escorted to a visitor’s room, my cuffs strung through the metal loop in the table. It was probably two hours I sat there, grateful I didn’t need to go to the bathroom, before someone walked in. A man I’d never seen before in a suit I’d never seen on anyone that pulled in less than six figures.\n\n“Ms. Talbot,” he spoke, shutting the door behind him. “I am Colonel Thomas Kovacs.” He pulled out the chair opposite me with a screech and sat down, putting a thick folder down on the table. “Do you remember dying?”\n\n“Do I…” I choked out a laugh. “What kind of question is that?”\n\n“The straightforward kind,” he answered, taking my attitude in stride. “You bled out in the yard. Were pronounced dead at 16:41. About an hour later, you woke up.”\n\n“So…someone fucked up,” I told him. “How did I survive that bitch Cassidy? And by the way, is she gonna get off scot free after trying to kill me-”\n\n“I’m saying she did kill you,” Kovacs interrupted. “That is the only reason I’m here. I don’t waste my time with anything less than a sure thing.”\n\n“What kind of sure thing?”\n\n“Immortality,” he answered.\n\nMy eyes narrowed, then widened, then I laughed. “What the fuck are you on?”\n\nBefore I could react, Kovacs drew a weapon I hadn’t noticed holstered under his jacket, aimed, and fired at my arm." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You are a medium who frequently interacts with ghosts of those who have recently died. Your grandmother has passed away, and her ghost visits you to tell you that her funeral was awful." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I've never done one if these, can't sleep, thought it might be fun to try.\n\nOf all the ghosts I've had visit, my granny is the absolute worst. Sure, you'd think it would be great to be a medium. When people you love pass away you have your chance to really say goodbye; tell them how you feel. That's nice and all, but what happens when they just won't leave?\n\nWhen my granny first came to see me, I felt my eyes sting with tears. My heart began to thump loudly with in my chest. This is the woman I baked sugar cookies with, who taught me poker, and knit my most treasured blanket. I had been waiting for this moment since my mother grimly delivered the news to me the week prior. Of course I felt heartbroken to hear about her sudden death, but I looked forward to seeing her again in spirit. I was surprised when I hadn't yet heard from her by the time her wake and burial were held.\n\nImagine my dismay when the first words out of her mouth were not, \"I love you\" or some form of a meaningful farewell or maybe even some philosophical advice from the great beyond. Oh no. Not with my granny.\n\nIt started out small. \"In lieu of flowers, donations to the American Cancer Society?! What's that crap? I didn't even die from cancer, I got hit by a car. Couldn't have people splurge to get me some nice lilies or orchids?\"\n\nI tried to explain that we thought she'd like that after losing gramps so suddenly to cancer last year, and during her autopsy they had found she had undiagnosed stage four Sarcoma. She didn't want to hear it. She just complained louder to get her voice to drown out mine.\n\n\"And who dressed me? I want to know who had the brilliant idea to put me in one of my jumpsuits from the 80's. It was in the far back of my closet, by costumes! My god, I always said I wouldn't be caught dead wearing one of those again. I guess you all went ahead and made me a liar. It's not bad enough you decided to have an open casket even though I was HIT BY A CAR. Good thing you put that hat on me. It really improved the situation in there.\"\n\nOkay. So the woman died after being hit by a car. I guess I would be grumpy too. I decided to just sit back and let her get it all out.\n\nThe problem is... it's been 4 months and she is still going. Nonstop. Every day. All day and all night. The flowers. The casket lining. The people in attendance. The eulogy. The person chosen to read the eulogy (cousin Herb with the stutter who apparently would have been outdone by granny's cat Whiskers). The picture on the back of the memorial cards. The poem on the front of the memorial cards. The sleezy funeral home we chose (which was just fine for gramps when she picked it). The list is endless, and I know this... because it has yet to end.\n\nEven now, she's yammering on about our choice to serve warm cookies and fruit punch. Apparently it was a funeral, not a party, and warm cookies and punch have no business with death. But I'll tell you what, I'm about one complaint away from drinking some fruit punch that has plenty of business with death, I just can't take listening to her anymore." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: An introverted girl goes on a first-date with a suave and mysterious guy she just met. The date ends up being a bank robbery." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "For what seemed like the hundredth time in the last minute, Carly pulled her phone out of her purse to check the time. A quarter past seven. Where was he? She looked up and down the street, but there was no one in sight, no vehicle approaching.\n\nShe wanted to be angry, but the fluttering in her belly wouldn't let her. How long had it been since she'd gone on a date? Six months? Three years? Between work at her cafe, mom visiting, even more work at the cafe, night classes ... it wasn't until she'd met Blaine on that dating site two weeks ago that she'd even had time to think about men.\n\nBlaine was ... difficult to resist. He shared little about himself on his profile, and deflected her questions as easily as a hurricane would an arrow, but all the same, every little bit he revealed only made her more intrigued to discover the rest of him. Which was why she could only say yes when he'd asked her out.\n\nAnd now he was late.\n\nMaybe he wasn't coming, she thought as she smoothed out the front of her dress unnecessarily. Maybe he'd forgotten, or didn't care enough or—\n\nA car swung into her street and screeched to a halt in front of her, so suddenly she almost fell on her backside. The roar of the Jaguar's engine died down to a throaty purr as a man emerged. Tall, dressed in a simple suit that fit his muscular frame perfectly, he looked the sort who would turn heads his way, men and women alike.\n\n\"Really sorry, Carly,\" he said as he hurried to her side. \"Got caught up on something.\"\n\nShe wanted to question him further, but the night was chilly and his hands deliciously warm as he steered her to the car. Despite her disinterest in cars, she couldn't help admiring the interior while he returned to the driver's seat.\n\n\"So,\" he said, turning to flash an electric smile at her. \"Where to?\"\n\n\"I thought the ... er, restaurant?\" Inwardly, she didn't know whether to be proud at herself for being able to string together a more or less coherent sentence, or to be embarrassed at stumbling on the first words she had uttered to him that night.\n\nHe shrugged, still smiling. \"It's still early though. Let's go have some fun first.\"\n\nShe whispered something back to him, so soft even she couldn't hear her own words. He leaned closer, and plucking up her courage, she said, \"Sex?\"\n\nHe blinked at her in confusion, and then laughed. Her cheeks burned as though they were on fire.\n\nWhen his mirth had subsided, he said, \"Let's leave that offer on the table for now, okay? Don't want us to start with the best part of the night.\"\n\nShe made an odd, strangled giggle. \"Sorry, I'm not very good at this.\"\n\nProbably to spare her from further humiliation, he said nothing and began driving. A surprise then, Carly thought.\n\nOn the way, Blaine asked her about herself, but she never answered with more than a sentence.\n\n\"Been a while since you've gone out with someone, huh?\" he said.\n\n\"Yes. What about you, how many women have you—\" Way to go, she thought, asking about his exes. \"I mean ... sorry, you don't have to answer that. What do you do, for a living?\"\n\n\"A delicate topic. Let's just say that what I do makes me rich. And it's fun.\" He grinned. \"Actually, why don't I show you?\"\n\nThere was a wolfish quality about that grin made her shiver. \"Is it ... dangerous? I mean, not that I don't mind a bit of danger, but—\"\n\n\"You'll be fine. Just watch.\" They were slowing down on a quiet street in a downtown area. \"For the record, this isn't the first time I've brought a date on the job.\"\n\n\"Where are we?\" she said as he stopped the car and rummaged in a bag.\n\n\"Put this one,\" he said, handing her a balaclava. She stared at it in confusion even as he tugged one over his head. \"Look, that's your admission ticket, okay? You don't put it on, you don't get to come.\"\n\n\"Okay, I will.\" Don't screw it up, Carly, not with this nice man you really like, a voice that sounded exactly like her mother said in her mind. But all the same, as she put the balaclava on, she was reminded of home, Fluffles and her half-finished Darkest Dungeon campaign. \"W-wait—\"\n\nBut Blaine was already striding toward the nearest building. Inside, an aged security guard was reading a paper behind a desk, next to a row of ATMs—oh.\n\n\"No, no,\" she called out to him, but a breeze swallowed her words.\n\nThe guard looked up as the door open, but before he could even cry out, Blaine fired a taser at him. Carly covered her mouth as the guard fell into a twitching heap. Her mind was reeling as it tried to process everything she was seeing, but instead of running, she entered the bank numbly.\n\nHer gaze kept straying toward the guard as she hissed at Blaine. \"What the hell are you doing?\"\n\nHe was standing in front of an ATM, pressing its buttons as he consulted a tablet. \"Work. Got to feed myself, somehow.\"\n\n\"This?\" she said, gesturing wildly around her even though his back was turned to her. \"Are you mad? What if the police come? What if we're caught? Oh God, who's going to feed my cat—\"\n\n\"Quiet,\" he said, and something about his tone made her shut up instantly. \"Just a few more seconds.\"\n\n\"I knew you were trouble, from the moment I saw your profile,\" she said. \"I knew it, I just knew—\"\n\n\"And what about you?\" he said, spinning around. Carly took an involuntary step back; he no longer looked charming and friendly. \"'Introvert, looking to connect, heart-to-heart'; who even puts something like that on their profile?\"\n\nShe could feel tears brimming in her eyes. \"Someone like you won't know what it's like, how lonely—\"\n\n\"I shouldn't have broken it off with Maeve,\" he said with an exasperated air as he turned his attention back to the ATM. \"She, at least, found all this exciting.\" There was suddenly a click, and then a front panel swung open. \"Jackpot!\"\n\nCarly crept forward and stared as he crouched and began shoving notes into his bag. \"Oh my God.\"\n\n\"Finally feeling something, huh?\" He stood and turned. Their faces were inches from each other's. \"You know,\" he said, his voice turning husky. \"A lot of women find this arous—\"\n\nShe pulled him in for a kiss, her lips locking passionately with his. The moment seemed to stretch on forever ... but five seconds later, Blaine's legs folded beneath him and he fell.\n\nLooming over him, Carly traced a finger over her lips as she smiled slowly. \"Well, so long as you love your work, no harm done, right?\"\n\nAnd, hoisting his bag over a shoulder, she swept out of the bank without a backward glance." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You're just a complicated passerby who happens to have the exact skills needed to get out of the ongoing disaster. This isn't suspicious at all." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They once called me Snowman.\n\nThere is a certain bleakness to endless white. The enormous quiet keeps conversations a little more personal. When the flakes fall from the sky there is always that immediate sense of joy.\n\nBut while the charm of impending snow hypnotized the many into thoughts of cocoa in front of a fire, few thought of who will clean the mess.\n\nI made a mistake a long time ago. And so I owe a favor to the people of that small city in Minnesota, the one with two nail salons and one family-run burger hovel, were caught with their eyes fixed on a comforting night trapped in their houses.\n\nAnd then it came, pillowing their world in solitude. No plows were ready – they were trapped in fact when the inches became feet and the feet piled until it came in meters.\n\nI sat there in that burger hovel, where the bacon in every bite was soggy and the fries drooped, disappointed from too much oil. My meal was not done, for it was time to work. The bell of the front door chimed as the family wished me the best of luck and their prayers for the road. Their eyes went wider than they might in awe of a first flake when I simply stepped into the wall of snow. It melted around me, and reformed in my trail.\n\nFor I am the Snowman, and I am going to free these people, for they have caused no sin besides sloth on a wild winter night.\n\nThere is the first order of business, I thought, and that was to free the plows. I went to the man in the garage. He shook his head, refusing my aid, but he came to appreciate it when I melted the world around me into a puddle. He could now work the night and pave the path for all who needed a way home.\n\nThen I searched. I listened into the stifled air for any cries of help. There was a mew that came from a tall tree. After a single fall to the lower back that left me bruised, I climbed to the tallest branches. The cat, black as a winter midnight, fought with me and tore through my coat as I brought him to the nearest home and left him. They came outside, huddled as a family of a single mother and two children, and fed the poor thing warm milk. The cat’s name was Witch, I learned as I stepped off of their porch.\n\nAnd then there was the matter their pipes. Now this is a tricky feat, I assure you. Water can freeze in these terrible winters. I placed my palms to the ground and I listened with my fingers. It’s not something you would understand, you being a person and all, but it is not too unlike that, I suppose. There I felt where there was no movement and where there was. I spoke to the water with only a suggestion, and the ice became liquid and people could now drink freely from their faucets.\n\nI came back to the burger joint, the family there rushed from their home upstairs and to the door to greet me. They brought me a cup of cocoa and took me to a furnace. With a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, I smiled and thanked them.\n\nThey asked me what my name was, but I told them nothing. They asked what I had done out there, and I told them just a favor or two. They eyed me, suspicious, but they let me stay in their home as I finished my cold, soggy burger. They whisper a name I’ve heard before.\n\nSnowman.\n\nI did not tell them that I made that mistake all that time ago. It’s a terrible tragedy, all my fault. So I help where I can. Those blizzards that roam the Earth are like hounds I set loose, terrible creatures really, but they are mine to tame.\n\nIt’s lonely out here in the snow, but isn’t that the charm of it all?" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: An ancient sea god is awoken by an old fisherman who thinks it’s his son come to fish with him finally." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ba'al-Shuggoroth shook itself. Its form was small, even feeble, but it was all that it could extend into the world when it came back in the time before the dawn of life, and ever since the little creatures had begun to cover the face of the earth, the little piece of itself was stuck in this plane.\n\nIt pulled its way over the rocks - it had twoish legs, or something like legs. Dozens of flaps opened and closed across the body that was a mottled, sickening shade of green. Some of the flaps may have had a purpose; some of those purposes might even have been analogous to something in the animal kingdom of this world. A thousand eyes flicked across the landscape and a dozen mouths and mouths within mouths tasted the air. Salt, sea foam, wood, and one of Them.\n\nBa'al-Shuggorth spotted one of the vermin sitting by the ocean. It was a little one - they were all little ones, but this one especially so - holding something. It was. . . hunting? Looking for others of Life? Why would it want them? It had to do with sustaining its own life, but also had to do with some sort of pleasure. Or lack of boredom. But the nothing itself was desirable.\n\nIt made Ba'al-Shuggoroth sick.\n\nIt moved up towards the thing, picking its way over the rocks that had disgusting solidity and presence, then rose up. Make it unlife. Snuff it out.\n\n\"Roger?\" The thing said. It turned in place. It looked different from other things, at least from what Ba'al-Shuggoroth remembered. Maybe it was something in the two little things in its head, the squishy ones that moved a lot and tasted closer to home than anything else.\n\nBa'al-Shuggoroth froze, towering over the thing.\n\nThe thing pulled out another one of the sticks that it was using and held it out. \"Got one ready for you.\" The thing's voice trembled. Not intentionally, like the clumsy communication used by these things.\n\nBa'al-Shuggoroth took the stick, anyway. It felt less real than the rocks, so that was a comfort. A thin string dangled out into the water, and at the very end, in the water, a sparkling dot of presence and realness, plus something that moved between life and unlife.\n\n\"Good day.\" The thing was talking again. Little words. Meaningless words, even to it. \"Yeah, Roger?\"\n\nBa'al-Shuggoroth wondered what Roger was. Something related to this thing. Spawn?\n\nBa'al-Shuggoroth sat a long time, holding the stick, watching the life and unlife at the end of it. What was this thing doing? Did it have some sort of game it was playing?\n\n\"It's been hard since your mam died.\" The thing finally spoke again. \"I'm sorry.\"\n\nMore silence. So much time spent with no communication. Ba'al-Shuggoroth set the stick down on the rocks.\n\n\"I should have been better to you. You're just hard to reach.\" The thing sighed. \"It's my fault. You've got your dreams. Roger. Rog.\" The thing's voice barely sounded like it was in control of it now, cracking and bubbling. \"I'm giving you my blessing. There's a couple thousand under the floorboards - life savings, Rog. Use it on that school. It's not everything, but. . . but Rog, I want you to be happy.\"\n\nBa'al-Shuggoroth laid one of the pieces of itself across the things head. He gasped, and then Ba'al-Shuggoroth showed him unlife. A second later, it began dragging its way across the rocks, grimacing at the jabbing, rough points of reality prodding it with every step." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: You’re just an ordinary guy working as the manager of a Waffle House. It’s mostly normal, except for the fact that the nuclear apocalypse has occurred, and mutants and raiders stalk the land. Besides that, it’s an ordinary day." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I slowly approached the restaurant, pistol holstered and rifle in hand. I really should find some place to live closer to my work, the daily commute nearly kills me. Literally. Those Cobra raiders along the I-5 really mean business.\n\nI open the doors, and wave to Jaga, the janitor. “Ey bos me clen fors” he said. I chuckled. I don’t know why so many factions in the Wasteland hate mutants. Besides the minor color and size difference between them and us pure-strainers, they’re really gentle people post-humans. I went into the back a messages HQ. I don’t know where the flippity-fuck HQ is, or how they were able to keep this chain running after the literal apocalypse, but I’m glad they were able to. The familiar HQ person greeted me on the monitor. “Hello, HQ, I'd like to request a delivery of shipments of foodstuffs to WH- 03357, please”. The HQ person nodded. “You’ll get that by tomorrow, have a good day”. I logged of the computer and went back out front. The Waffle House was well guarded, so I felt at ease whenever I was inside of it. Apparently, the CEO of this place back in 2062 wanted to make all Waffle House locations impenetrable fortresses, with mounted turrets, laser grids and high powered computers. Not a moment to soon, I might add. Those damn nukes came down like raindrops.\n\n“Hey, Greg” Stephen, the line cook called me. He was apparently listening to the his analog radio in the back. “Did you hear about the USC’s offensive against the Bunker Dwellers Base in Sawtooth? Serves those genocidal freaks right” Stephen said, a smile on his face along with it. The door opened. Two slavers (I recognized their forehead tattoos) accompanied by a dozen slaves walked in. “Hey, we don’t got a lot of time, we need these slaves in New Fresno by tonight. What do you have that’ll shut them up for a bit?” One of the slavers asked. Politeness really is extinct. “The cheapest and most filling thing would be some toast with a side of eggs, and a glass of water.” I answered. “1 gold coin for each plate”. The Slaver took out the money. “12 plates of that, now” he answered. They didn’t stay inside to long, just took their plates and left.\n\nThan, our best profit margins walked in the door. Some Guardians from the Order of Snipers. They’ve been shuffling people around a lot lately, and hungry troopers usually order big meals.”Greetings, fellow Wastelander. We would like to order 10 plates of Waffles, all with bacon on the side, and coffee” the Guardian said, dressed in full power armor. As I gave them their food, the all hustled out, but the one who had ordered the food stayed. “Thank you for the good service, and remember, Order of Snipers will RISE AGAIN!!!” He said, finally leaving. Dan from the back chimed in. “Y’know, those Order of Snipers folks are my original kin. But after the schism back in 32’, I saw it fit to leave.”\n\nIt came close to 9, the time I’m supposed to leave. As I walked out of the Waffle House, I waved goodbye to the store, loaded up all my weapons, and made my way out into the Wastes. As I did, I couldn’t help but hear rustling behind the back. I went to inspect it, but unluckily for me, the raider hiding had their was damn good with pistols. I guess I lived long enough anyway" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: The zombie apocalypse has begun. You, a vampire, are immune to the virus. The group of survivors you’re with has yet to catch on to that, though." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I didn't expect to be waking up from my millenia long sleep so soon.\n\n\"Also\" I grasp the zombies head who was attacking my coffin \"What's wrong with you, human??\" It bites my hand.Nothing happens.\n\n\"Strange, have humans changed so much in my long sleep\" I speak. I then bite the strange looking human and attempt to drink its blood.\n\n\"Blarrgh\" I puke out its blood.\n\n'Disgusting ,this human appears to be rotting' I think as I crush its head and let its body fall down.\n\nI needed to find a source of human blood unlike that rotting carcasses or else I would turn feral.\n\nHeading outside of a cave that had been particularly well hidden. I start walking towards a nearby village.\n\nAll of my abilities barring strength and regeneration were inaccessible and that also would be lost if I do not find any blood.\n\n\"I hate walking\" I say as I arrive to a village with structures of metal surrounding it.\n\n'Fascinating that the humans have built such structures?But why aren't there any humans around' I think to myself.\n\nAs I walk past the paths covered in corpses and look at the creations I had missed due to my slumber i hear a shriek.\n\n\"Sounds like a human\" I say and decide to go investigate.\n\nI follow the sound where I notice a horde of the rotting carcasses are attacking..a female human their sense of clothing seemed different though I'd expect a millennia to change things.\n\n\"Hey hu-\" I cut myself off \"Woman do you require assistance\" I say walking towards the horde.\n\nThe horde turns towards me and start approaching me slowly.\n\n\"Shit , that guys going to get himself killed\" another voice spoke.\n\n'Me dying good joke human' I thought.\n\nI walk up to the incoming zombies and start my rampage. I grasp two of their heads together and bang them causing them to instantly collapse.\n\nThen I take one of their bodies in my hands and throw it at the others knocking them out. After that I just stomp at them until they die.\n\n'Oh I should limit my strength usage' I think as my knees collapse.\n\n\"Huff Huff I feel tired inconceivable\" I try to stand but fail. My body gets weaker my regeneration stopping.\n\nAm I a Vampire going to die.\n\n\"Everyone he's here\" I hear loud noises around me as the remaining of the living carcasses are destroyed.\n\n\"Hey you okay\" I hear as I see a girls hand outstretched to me.\n\nI don't take it and instead get up using my own strength.\n\n\"I'm quite fine\" I say. 'Wait I should be friendly with them'.\"Thank you for saving me\" I say bowing.\n\n\"No problem\" she says. \"Us couple survivors are staying together would you like to join us we could use someone with your strength\" she says.\n\n\"Yes I've been having quite bad luck with all these carcasses attacking me. It'd be nice to have someone to keep an eye around\" I say.\n\n\"Oh you mean the zombies and yeah well be happy to have you\" she says.\n\n\"Ah yes the zombies\" I say as we walk towards the rest of the survivors.\n\n\"By the way I'm Iris\" she says.\n\n\"Helarx\" I say.\n\n(I'll write more later)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Vampires exist, but they actually aren’t weak to sunlight. As it turns out, they’re massive nerds who have spread those rumors to justify staying inside all day. After somehow brefriending one, you, a human, have been invited to a bicentennial vampire D&D night." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I know what they say about online friends, but Viktor was different. He and I would voice chat while playing leadue of legends, or sometimes playing uno which he always won. We lived pretty close together which wasn't common for people online, so we had visited each others house. He was a massive seen, with video game figurines and shelves full of manga. My kind of guy! The other day during voicechat, he invited me to play a game with his friends.\n\n\"You have friends?\" I asked as we destroyed another turret in LOL.\n\n\"Haha, very funny.\" Viktors accent was a weird mix between British and American.\n\n\"I'm only teasing. What game is it?\"\n\n\"DND\"\n\n\"Heard of it. Never played.\"\n\n\"I could help you set your character up! We needed more players since Vanessa left.\"\n\n\"I'll think about it...Fuck! They're at the inhibitor!\"\n\n\"Got them. But seriously, my house, 2pm, Saturday.\"\n\n\"Alright, alright, now stay focused on the match.\"\n\nHe laughed. \"Yes, ma'am!\"\n\nThat Saturday I arrived with my character sheet and bag of die that Viktor bought for me. My character was a teifling bard with a noble background who loved animals. Viktor ushered me in, leading me down to the basement where his friends were speaking in an assortment of languages. He showed me my seat an introduced me.\n\n\"Hey everyone, this is Andrea, a human.\"\n\nHuman? That was a weird way to indtroduce me. Everyone seemed to have an odd interest in my too, asking all sorts of questions.\n\n\"What do you eat? How many languages do you know? How old are you?\"\n\nViktor intervened.\n\n\"Gugs, guys, stop bombarding her with questions. Lets get playing\"\n\nAs we started playing my first game of dnd, I noticed many odd things. They kept complaining about chicken or pig blood while glancing my way. They would randomly switch accents or langauges on a whim, and seemed to keep making references to other centuries.\n\n\"Hah! Remember when Mozart peed himself at his first concert?!\" The others broke out in laughter. At one point, we all took a break, and Viktor pulled me aside.\n\n\"What the fuck, dude! Your friends are acting like their centuries old!\"\n\nHe looked sheepish, and a bit sorry.\n\n\"Th-that's because they are. I'm sorry I forgot to tell you, but we're actually vampires.\" I gawped, then laughed.\n\n\"You must be joking. Vampires arent real. Even if they were, I've seen you in the sun. You don't have fangs!\"\n\nHe smiled, proving my point.\n\n\"The funny thing is, we made that up. Vampires around the world gradually became nerds to the point where they didn't go outside, so we made that as an excuse.\" He laughed. \"And the reason we drink blood is that we slowly run out of blood in our veins, so we need to replenish it, but we are able to use any blood.\"\n\nI just stared at him blankly.\n\n\"Yeah its confusing. I just hope you won't stop being my friend.....\"\n\n\"I-....\" Sighed. \"I think I should head home for today.\"\n\nHe looked crestfallen as I gathered my things. He followed me to the door with an apologetic expression on his face.\n\n\"Viktor?\"\n\nHe immediatly became alert.\n\n\"LOL later today?\"\n\nThe boy, no vampire, brightened and nodded.\n\n\"Yeah! Talk to you later, Andrea!\"\n\nI smiled. \"Talk to you later.\"\n\nI then walked out to my car and drove him, kind of excited to start a little more research on vampires." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Your worst enemy has found a genie, and creatively uses his third wish to make your life miserable. You're determined to turn the curse into a boon somehow." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I didn't notice at first, but as the days passed, I couldn't help but notice. Every time I went to sleep, or even just closed my eyes, they were there. The nightmares. The constant fear of losing a loved one, or being stuck in one of those horror games I played as a kid. It got so bad at one point that I couldn't sleep. I had no idea where they came from, and they wouldn't stop.\n\nAfter a few weeks it was so bad that I got help. First from my friends; they gave me some sleeping pills that only made the nightmares hit harder. One of my friends gave me a card to their psychologist, and I set an appointment for the next day. I went there, and it helped, for the first five minutes that I laid down. Then my dreams turned dark. That field I used to dream about? Started burning with me in the middle. And the worst part was I couldn't die, the flames just licked my body and burned me continuously. The pain didn't stop until the psych shook me awake. He gave me a towel for the sweat on my brow, and sent me home with another appointment and some more sleeping pills. I dropped them both into the bin on my way out.\n\nI stepped up on to my porch, only to find someone in the way. Jack. Handsome Jack, as he liked to call himself. My high school nemesis; that jock from the football team who liked to pick on the AP Chemistry student. \"Oh, sorry I didn't see you there\", he said, looking down at me. \"I just came to see your mother.\" Oh did I mention he was my cousin?\n\n\"Well she's fine so you can leave now\", I mumbled, trying to brush past him. He grabbed me mid-step, holding my shoulder tightly. \"Well have sweet dreams\", he said and smirked. What the hell did he mean by that? \"What is that supposed to mean Jack?\"\n\n\"You know very well what it means\", he scoffed, walking away. It was him. He was the one who gave me my nightmares. I don't know how he did it. I don't care how he did it. My head was swimming so badly in rage that I don't know how I got to my room. I couldn't lie down. That would make this worse. Wait. Yes. I could lie down.\n\nMy eyes closed, and my mind opened. This time I wasn't scared of what was to come. I was ready. Since I couldn't die, I watched. I stayed calm, fuelled by my rage. I felt the flames lick my body. So I opened my eyes and closed them again. I saw the man come and kill my mother. Open, close. I starved without an end. Open, close. My skin was peeled off. Open, close. For hours I repeated my torture. Not my torture, my lessons.\n\nJack came over the next day. At first, he thought I was playing a prank on him, tying him up in the basement. It's funny how fast his expression changed when I turned my nightmares into his reality." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: A chauvinistic manly-man is offered a chance to have cool superpowers, but he'd also have to take on a new body that's younger and female." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "You are offering me powers? Me? You hate me, what's the catch?” said Chris to the 3rd strongest hero.\n\nShe could grant low level powers indefinitely with the receivers consent and change their body to match.\n\n“I want you to live as that which you hate so much.”\n\n“I’m guessing you mean women, look this is a common misconception… I believe in rolls…”\n\n“Don’t patronise me!” shouted the god.\n\nChris weighed his options, was there anything he could say in that moment that wouldn't come across as patronising to this emotional woman at this point?\n\nChris remained silent.\n\n“I will grant you any simple power in my repertoire in exchange for you to live as a woman.”\n\n“So I would be a lesbian?”\n\n“No you would be straight.” said Terpsichore.\n\nChris hesitated. “I know this makes sense to you but I need a little help here.”\n\n“It makes perfect sense!”\n\n“And I believe that you believe that but will I be attracted to men or women afterward?”\n\n“Men of course! Like I said straight.”\n\n“Ok, just checking, sorry if that bothered you.”\n\n“I’m not bothered, you are simply insufferable.”\n\nSwitching sexuality was weird but it wouldn't seem weird once he was changed, if it did he could simply sleep with women still, she wasn't going to force him to fuck men afterall.\n\n“I will agree provided I get to pick the power.” said Chris.\n\nThe goddess’ smirk stretched inhumanly across her face, she believed this was a hard choice for him, Chris knew better than to correct that assumption and let her continue to be as she always had, emotional and quick to act without thought.\n\n“Which power will compel you to this action?” said Terpsichore.\n\nChris was torn, when receiving the unlikely summons he thought about his options in the even more unlikely scenario that she would not kill him on the spot. Chris had settled on the reliable if uncreative super strength. Now that Chris was going to live as a woman did he need strength? No, was his immediate mental answer. If he was super strong, what power would he want a partner to have? Youth, beauty, cooking skills where all obtainable without Terpsichores intervention.\n\n“I have made my choice.” said Chris, keeping his expression glum so she would think she was winning.\n\n“What is the toll?”\n\n“Instantaneous line of sight teleportation.” said Chris.\n\n“Very well, your hand.”\n\nThe goddess extended hers, Chris took it and instantly understood every detail of the change, he would become a beautiful, young 21 year old. Chris smirked, he had stated 21 and beautiful was the most privileged of female positions on many of his youtube broadcasts, it seemed Terpsichore intended to call his bluff.\n\n“Agreed.” said Chris.\n\nTerpsichores expression faltered at his smile, her hand flinching back a moment too late.\n\nThe goddess seemed larger, or had she shrunk? She?\n\nThe breasts must have been a nightmare to wrangle, her back must kill when she wasn’t floating. ‘Oh that’s new’, Chris thought.\n\n“Why are you looking at me like that?” said Terpsichore.\n\n“I'm trying… to objectify you.” said Chris, strain coming through his voice.\n\n“Well stop!”\n\n“Can’t stop if I haven’t started…”\n\n“Then stop trying!”\n\nChris couldn't do it, they were just uncomfortable, impractical mounds of flesh.\n\n“I said stop!” shouted Terpsichore.\n\nChris blinked across the room, the skill was surprisingly intuitive. She looked up at Terpsichores behind, she was an ass woman after all… ass man… she was an ass man.\n\n“You… stop!”\n\n“You’re in shape… huh…” said Chris realising the ass did nothing for her but compel her to work out more.\n\nChris brought out her phone realising her fingers were slender and manicured. Chris looked down to her perky breasts and tight body in the loose oversized clothing. She shook her head and unlocked her camera.\n\n“What are you doing?” asked Terpsichore.\n\n“Admiring your handiwork.” said Chris.\n\n“You’re not supposed to admire it… you are supposed to bemoan your new role in society!”\n\n“Oh my god I am stunning! I gotta send this to my followers.” said Chris.\n\n“You… stop ignoring me!” shouted Terpsichore.\n\nChris held up a finger for her to wait as she couldn't navigate the menu to apply a filter and listen at the same time.\n\n“Stop patronising me!”\n\n“I can’t patronise you, I’m a woman. Said Chris without looking up from her screen, her thumb paused at a picture of herself.\n\n“Huh… hey check this out.” said Chris, turning her phone to Terpsichore.\n\nThe goddess descended from her levitating stance to look at the screen, her face reddened by something.\n\n“It’s a picture of you… from before.”\n\n“I know! Jesus I used to be hot, look at that beard.”\n\n“No you didn't!”\n\n“The clit don't lie.”\n\n“Thats... That's not a saying, girls dont say that, you just made it up!”\n\n“I’ve got to go.”\n\n“Where are you going to go? You’re a woman now, your followers won't respect you.”\n\n“Oh I’m moving on from youtube.”\n\n“To what?”\n\n“Going to find a man, have a nice family, oh I can learn to bake!”\n\n“No! You need to tell your followers that it’s not that easy!”\n\n“Followers…” muttered Chris, blinking to the doorway and down the hall out of earshot of Terpsichore as her thumb scrolled through her followers, pausing on pictures of their faces." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: After centuries of study, palm reading is now the most accurate way to see your life story, from birth until death. The only problem is that you can't read palms, and whenever you show someone, looking for an answer, they drop your hand and back away with a look of horror." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It wasn’t so long ago that life was a mystery past the present. The future was always unknown besides predictions. Over the last 300 years, we’ve mastered Palm Reading as a species. It began simple, as small rooms or stores with glossy windows in big cities. But soon, people began to realize just how accurate palm reading could be. The rich would pour in investments, trying to cheat death, but it didn’t usually work that way.\n\nNowadays, it’s very common and everyone can do it. Most people get their Palm Reading done on their 10th birthday, as a rite of passage to learn of their pasts from birth and to the future until death. I mean, they could do it earlier or later, but the 10th birthday’s been special for the last 100 years or so.\n\nBut here’s the thing. I can’t do it. At all. When I look at people’s hands, I just see skin. That’s it. There are very few people like us, and we’re called the Unworthies. I hate the word. As if not being able to “read” a palm makes me less of a human being. But that never stopped the bullies after I found out I was an “Unworthy” on my 10th birthday.\n\nThere’s something else. Something I’ve never heard of before. Even though I can’t read palms, others can read mine. You’d think that with everyone being able to read palms, I’d know my life by now, but I don’t. Every time someone reads my palms, they back off, looking absolutely terrified. My parents, teachers, former friends (I don’t have friends anymore because they’re too scared of me and my palm reading). Even strangers on the street. That’s why I made it to the other side of the world from Los Angeles, where I live.\n\nI took my limited vacation time from being a servant to one of the wealthier families in LA, which hire Unworthies like me for menial tasks, and went to Beijing. I’d heard rumors of a woman there by the name of The Mystic who tells Unworthies about their futures if they haven’t found out.\n\nShe owned a small place on a side road near the downtown sector. I walked in as the door chimes ring and I saw a few children with their parents. They gave me strange looks. Of course they would. No Unworthy would make it to the age of 27 like myself and not have their Palm Reading. The Mystic walked out, but when she saw me, her face turned ashen and she completely ignored the others.\n\n“Come with me right now” she said in perfect English.\n\nI looked nervously at the others but I was too curious so I followed her into the back room which is completely black, including the circular table and two opposing chairs. A small candle lit the table.\n\n“You are obviously not a normal person.” She said it calmly and not at all in an insulting manner, but it still felt like a punch in the gut.\n\n“Yeah,” I muttered coldly. “So I’ve been told.”\n\nShe narrowed her eyes, studying me then reached for my right arm from across the table and put it on the cold surface, palm up. “27 and still no reading. You have no idea whatsoever”\n\n“No one will tell me. They all back away looking –”\n\n“Terrified,” she finished for me, staring intently into my palm. “They are absolutely terrified because of your future.”\n\n“What about it? What makes it so terrifying?”\n\nShe pondered for a minute before saying. “You have a dark path ahead of you. There is much strife and terror that you will instill into others.”\n\nI felt shocked and chilled. “What does that mean? What strife? What terror?”\n\n“You are a very rare occurrence. When people read your palm they see something incredibly terrifying and destructive. They see –”\n\nHer blood splattered across the room and all over me. I turned to see the barrel of a gun turn from her to me." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: The world is being invaded by an extraterrestrial race. These aliens are from another dimension where 1 second of their time is 7 minutes 22 seconds of our time. Even their physics are slower. You are squad leader of the assault on their mothership." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Humanity lost a lot in the battle of Mars. Soldiers dodged bullets flying through the sky, jumped off missiles, spun rockets around, and flew ships impossibly low. We lost 42% of our forces in the battle before evacuation orders hit every squad on the planet. Now, Captain Jordan stared down at Mars as a massive base went up before his eyes. Just a day ago, that base was nowhere, but ships were flying in and out and in and out constantly. On the plus side, their ship was now exposed.\n\nHis radio buzzed, and Jack quickly activated it.\n\n\"Strike Team Foxtrot is in position, sir, awaiting your command.\"\n\nJordan grimaced. All of the strike teams were in position, and what was next would be a bloodbath. He turned to the ship's pilot, behind him.\n\n\"Fly us in.\"\n\nThe ship flew through space, aiming for the front cabin of the massive alien mothership. Jordan turned on his radio.\n\n\"All units, lower cloaking and fire at will.\"\n\nThe space around the ark was immediately lit up with explosions as fighters strafed the engines of the mothership. Captain Jordan drew his tasers, swapped the batteries, and prepared to make things personal. The ship flew through cannon fire, pointing directly for the window at the head of the mothership. Jordan walked through the ship, put on his battle suit, and jumped into an escape pod.\n\nFor a moment, there was silence, while Jordan floated aimlessly in the escape pod, watching the ship turn, guns silently firing at invisible targets. Then the engines fired. Jordan was thrown against his seat, crashing through the window, into the ship, and through the control room. The Captain tightened his tether and opened the door. He first peeked out of the pod, safely fastened to the escape pod. He saw aliens floating harmlessly in space and stifled a laugh. He dove through the destroyed remains of the door, and immediately found himself face to face with a guardian alien. He quickly drew his tasers and fired them. Jolts of blue light flew from them, stunning the alien, and presumably stopping his heart. Jordan turned on his radio.\n\n\"All units, focus on the guns, I repeat, all units, focus on the gun turrets, over.\" With that, Jordan set off to find the reactor. His universal translator was built off a Zipf-Model translator, so it would work it out based on frequency of words - all he would need was to find enough words to train the translator. A wall was blasted open, exposing the vacuum of space. Still, Jordan trounced on, flying down the stairs. He saw three aliens running along a hall, backs turned. He took his chance and fired the taser. The blue bolts hit two of them, but the third one heard and turned. Jordan quickly pulled the trigger again, felling the alien, but barely missing a projectile that crashed into the wall.\n\nAhead of him, Jordan saw a room full of cabinets of a sort. The captain darted into the room and kicked cabinets over. He pointed his translator at the documents on the ground, scanning them. Bending down, a projectile whistled over his head. Jordan turned to see a bunch of aliens behind him, flooding into the room. Setting his translator on the cabinet in the gamble that it would scan ALL the documents around, the captain ran, zig-zagging so as to throw off the aim of the aliens. He dove behind the desk and fired the guns blindly towards the projectiles. Activating his radio and swapping the batteries, he yelled into it, in a cry for assistance. Instantly, hundreds of explosions rattled the room, lasers flying through the walls.\n\nPeeking out, Jordan saw the aliens dead, the walls riddled with holes, and the translator lying intact on the cabinet. Grabbing it, he saw that his gambit had paid off - the alien language had been mostly translated. Pointing it at a picture on the wall, it popped up on the device, translated into very broken English. It didn't matter. He saw \"Reactor\" on \"Floor 2\". Now, all he had to do was run until he found a \"Floor 2\" sign. Jordan dove from cover, and continued to run.\n\n\"Thanks for the support, friends. Now bring 'em down!\"\n\nThe radio was filled with a chorus of \"Yes, sir\"s. Darting down the stairs for a second time, Captain Jordan shone the translator at every sign he saw. Floor 8... Floor 7... Floor 6... Floor 5... Floor 4... Floor 3...\n\nFinally, Jordan found Floor 2. He walked, finding himself locked in position. Cursing, he cut the tether and stepped into the room. Finding it unoccupied, he cracked his knuckles, walked to the reactor, and said the words.\n\n\"I found it.\"\n\nA thousand miles away, a ship with a massive laser aboard began charging up.\n\nJordan spoke into his radio.\n\n\"If you don't want to die, you'd better run away now. But now is the time I make these god-damn-dirty-ass aliens pay!\"\n\nAs the ships dispersed, the aliens aboard must've breathed a sigh of relief, or whatever their alien breathing apparati did. Then, a green laser carved through the ship, straight through the reactor. Over the radio, all soldiers in the vicinity received Jordan's last words.\n\n\"FUCK YEAH!\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Unbeknownst to you, someone has wished a life full of minor inconveniences for you. You have since gotten down a routine to counteract them." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I stare at the bulbs of spilled ink that was unexpectedly squirted out of the pen that was passed around with the attendance sheet. It dazzled the page like a negative film of a starry night. I glared my eyes as everyone else paid more attention to the teacher. Alone with the mess, the blue drops inspired me to doodle the dots into smiley faces, relatable stick figures until my classmate noticed me and cued into passing the sheet to him.\n\nHe picked up the idea, picked a bulging dot performed his own art along with writing his name. Soon the paper was met with inspired smiles and giggly contributions. Once it was finally received by the teacher, it was met with a curiously irritated tone towards the distracting sheet of paper. Ready to blow a rant about how it took half an hour to pass it along, his mood quickly changed after a minute of reviewing the crowded content. \"Wow! I was expecting something more inappropriate but these are great. I especially love the...\" and the next five minutes were spent complimenting resonating pieces.\n\nThe bell rang and the teacher couldn't help but feel betrayed that the attendance sheet took up her attention and ours. So she held up the class to finish the chapter she was presenting. On the 8th minute, I knew I was gonna be late for my next class so when she concluded, I rushed out in a hurry. I felt like an Olympic track runner, dodging obstacles and splitting crowds until I spill over, eventually knocking into someone. \"Watch where you're going!\" Her fury is felt from the floor that held my fall. \"I'm so sorry!\" Trying to sound as sincere as possible in my hurried apologies. I reach the bus stop and watch my bus close it's doors on me and slowly cruise into traffic. \"Well, time to meme,\" and my panting calms itself in the wait until low and behold, the person I bumped into finds me at the stop.\n\nOur eyes meet and I felt compelled to introduce myself, clean my impression on her. \"I hope I didn't hurt you.\" Breaking her attention from her phone. \"Not at all, just caught me in a shock that's all.\" We talk until the bus arrives and we get on together. \"What's your name?\" I asked. \"My name is Lucy.\" \"Ahh, lucky Lucy!\" She responded with a quizzical look. \"You know the superstition where when a bird lands a shit on you, it's considered good luck.\" She smiles, \"yeah.\" \"Well consider me your piece of shit.\" We're approaching my stop and she asks me for my number. We exchange phones and when I look up, I see the doors close to my stop and watch the bus coast along the sidewalk. My disappointment quickly disappears once I get my phone back. \"I hope to hear from you,\" as she nears the doors to her approaching stop. \"Likewise!\" Waving goodbye as we get off. I find the bus stop that brings me back the other way, get on a bus and finally arrive at my destination.\n\nI do that awkward entrance when you enter a running class, making yourself as unnoticeable as possible. I sit myself down, regretting my tardiness but feel immediately compensated when I realize that I accidentally stole the runny pen." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Denying massive tech companies trillions in profits with his knock off products; Santa Claus faces 10 life sentences in prison and will be the first person in history to see them all through." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The portly man shuffled into the room, the chains that bound his wrists to his feet clanking with each step. He was dressed in an orange jumpsuit and it looked wrong on him. You wouldn't be able to explain why, but you would know that he should be wearing red, not orange. He took a seat in front of the 3-person panel in the room, scratched his white, bushy beard and peered at the panel from behind his half-moon glasses.\n\n\"Good morning,\" said a mousey looking person seated in the middle. \"My name is Mr. Mouse, but you may call me Mickey. This is Mr. Ronald,\" he pointed to a red-haired man dressed in yellow on his left, \"and this is Mr. Pilsbury,\" he pointed to the final person on the panel, a doughey looking man in a sailor outfit. \"For the record,\" continued Mickey, \"this is the second parole hearing for Mr. Claus, who faces 10 life sentences for selling counterfeit products. The last hearing happened a 100 years ago and it was decided at the time that you did not qualify for a parole since you had not adequately shown remorse for your actions. Today, we will be discussing and ascertaining if anything has changed in that situation. Mr. Claus, your comments?\"\n\n\"I feel no remorse. I would do it again. I wasn't and will never allow multi-national corporates to profit off or interfere with my magic. If a child asks me for Lego, they don't actually mean the brand. They mean building-blocks. And that's what they'll get.\"\n\n\"I see,\" said Mickey dryly. \"If that is still your position, Mr. Claus, I'm afraid we have no option to deny your parole. Do you have anything else that you would like to add?\"\n\nSanta Claus sighed and looked up at the panel. Mickey and his friends were sucking out all of the magic from the world. They had started first by appropriating all of the old tales of the Grimm wizards and of the Norse shamans, and turning them into nothing more than entertainment, movies & toys, destroying all of the magic in them. And, when that hadn't been enough, they had imprisoned all of the magical creatures. Santa had been the last one to be captured. There was no one coming to save them, save magic and there wasn't anything he could do about it, except make a plea to his captors.\n\n\"Yes. You need to think of the children. That's my only plea. Think of the children. They deserve presents on Christmas time, the good ones anyway, and every year that I am kept imprisoned, is a year that another generation of children stops believing in magic. And I can't explain the exact details to you, but we can't let that happen. There's already a whole generation that has gone without Santa Claus, don't let there be another!\"\n\n\"Noted,\" said Mickey, \"and if there are no objections from the rest of the parole committee, I move to strike Mr. Claus' last comments from the record as any reference to magic is protected under the Homeland Security Act.\" The others panelists nodded. Mickey continued, \"We are denying the parole application for Mr. Claus, until the next hearing in a hundred years. Bailiff, please escort Mr. Claus back to his cell.\"\n\nThe portly man got up and shuffled out of the room, the chains that bound his wrists to his feet clanking with each step. And the world went another year without real Christmas presents and real magic." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You did it! You passed the tests, crushed the challenges and went out with flying colors. You are now a god of... nothing. You have no realm, no divine servants, no region of authority, nothing. You’re immortal, which is pretty cool. You feel like you were shafted during the domain allocation." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was grueling. The challenges you faced in the Trial of Allocation made every other \"challenge\" you'd seen or ever even heard of seem like a cakewalk by comparison. The tests assessed knowledge no other mortal could have possibly possessed, but you were prepared, and you succeeded.\n\n\"With flying colors,\" said the assessment. You'd practically aced a Trial which few attempt, let alone survive. You'd bottled djinns, battled dragons, and bartered for souls. You'd shown perfect judgment of the condemned and the righteous both and offered novel and insightful considerations upon the Heavens' most pressing concerns. Onward, you plowed through an assortment of tests and challenges that should have spelled your end - and had in fact broken thousands of others before you in millions of ways - yet you persevered, and you excelled.\n\nYour reward, the domain you were allocated and which you would rule over for all of Eternity, was Nothing. It came with everything one who receives Nothing as their prize would expect: a heaping, massive pile of naught. A generous lack of any tangible change, benefit, or loss. Your domain excluded even thin air or the great, empty, expansive vacuum of space, which carries always within itself the radiation and energy of the birth of galaxies and dying stars. You were awarded no subjects, servants, or stewards, no palace from which to rule, not even a proper domain to call your own, for your domain was Nothing. You have merely the chit acknowledging your newly-acquired position. A signed, official document by the Heavens and the Powers That Be themselves. . . that granted you Nothing. Direct and absolute, unquestioned rule over Nothing.\n\nYou spent the first few millenia fuming. There was a tireless rage that filled your every waking moment, and you spent every second of every minute of that rage plotting against the Powers and the Heavens, cursing them for fearing your power and tricking you into undergoing the Trial of Allocation. They had given you immortality and absolute power on top of your already-considerable prowess as a cunning and learned scholar, and it was an offense that they had then taken away your ability to do anything with that power.\n\nAfter eons, the world began to slow, and to cool, and so did your rage. You felt and saw the other Deities shrinking slowly away, dwindling as the last stars of the last galaxies began to die out, and you remained as you were. For another millenia or so, you believed this to be true. In retrospect, however, you could tell that you had been getting stronger all the while. (Insofar as absolute power can increase.) Your domain grew as others faded away. . . into Nothingness.\n\nIt was an almost bittersweet revelation, for though you grew, everything you could possibly have cared about was soon to be gone forever, lost to an uncaring void. It stopped feeling bitter when you realized that that void was You, and the only attachments You still had were ones of anger, directed at those who had gifted You this cursed destiny. As those who used to claim power faded away alongside their respective domains though, You began to feel less angry towards them, and eventually, You stopped feeling anything at all. You could tell You were stronger, that Your domain would continue to slowly consume the others in silent gluttony, but You couldn't feel it.\n\nYou finally understood why You had been allocated Your particular domain. Nothing was the inevitable end for everything. It was the only domain which would outlast and come to govern all for eternity - a fitting reward for Your struggles after all.\n\nYou rule the everything, for everything is now Nothing." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Events lead to somebody inadvertently saying the extremely unlikely activation code phrase near an undercover agent" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "'I don't know guys, I still think it is incredibly unlikely.' Jill said, throwing her final dart at the board. They had been arguing about this for hours now and things still weren't going anywhere.\n\n'Look, I just think if you think about it logically, it is very plausible.' Frank replied, draining his 7th beer.\n\n'Well, as we have established over the course of this debate, you don't think logically, do you Frank?' Fred interjecting, taking up position at the oche.\n\n'Now that's unfair. Just because I don't believe the same thing you do, that doesn't mean I'm not a logical person.' Frank replied, ordering yet another drink from the weary bartender. He had been listening to this stupid argument for about 2 hours now. He was going to chuck them out but they were providing steady trade. If they went on for another hour, he'd throw them out.\n\n'Based on some of the things you've said Frank, calling you illogical is him being kind.' Jill answered, chalking up her score.\n\n'Oh because you are the paragon of virtue and intelligence, Jill aren't you? Miss \"I'm right and you're an idiot if you disagree!\" All bow before your big logic boner lest you smack me upside the head with it!' Frank slurred, spilling beer all over his lap.\n\n'Shut up Frank. You're just drunk.' Jill said, throwing her darts.\n\n'We're not going to get anywhere now. I think we officially got off track about 30 minutes ago when Frank was dancing to explain his point.' Fred said, avoiding his drunken friend and writing up his score.\n\n'You two are just sad because I won the argument that you had to switch to an ENTIRELY different subject to disprove my superior thought.' Frank interrupted, swinging his beer around.\n\nJill flung her final dart at the board, embedding itself deep within the bull. She spun round toward Frank, trying to stay her arm.\n\n'Let's get an alternate opinion, save us going round in circles. Hey Morris, can you come here a sec?' Jill yelled to the bartender, trying to solve this inane crisis.\n\n'Don't fucking bring me into this Jill, I've have to listen to youse guys bicker about God's knows what, I don't want to contribute.' Morris replied, keeping his back firmly turned to the meeting of the U.N.\n\n'Just do it Morris. I'm going to hang myself if this doesn't end soon.' Fred added.\n\n'Right, whatever. What's the argument as it stands then?'\n\n'Well, Fred and I believe that God could not make a pizza so big he couldn't eat as not only would that disprove his omnipotence but the sheer amount of mozzarella and tomato would cause the universe to collapse in on itself due to an overabundance of cheese. While Frank believes that not only could God eat the pizza, but that the pizza eating and subsequent disposal of the food would create an alternate reality whose basis was bread and marinara sauce.'\n\nMorris dropped the glass he was cleaning. The neural lock had finally disengaged in his brain. He knew what he must do. Grabbing the shotgun from under the bar, he vaulted over the counter and ran off into the night, screaming about killing the president as he sprinted.\n\n'That was weird.' Frank said, the bar door swinging back and forth. 'But I think he agreed with me.'\n\n'Bullshit he agreed with us!' Jill shouted, unaware of the turmoil this stupid argument had unleashed on today's world." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1300-1400 words. Prompt: You had succeeded in summoning demons before but summoning an angel was unheard of. You were the first to try the ritual, doing all the necessary spells in your basement. After almost giving up hope, a white light blinds you, revealing a white-winged figure. She begs you not to send her back." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Being blind is not fun. Being blinded by a bright white flash that literally carried the power of heaven behind it was even less fun. I practically felt my insides twist and knot at that power, all of my old sins rising up in me like haunting reminders of how imperfect I was. And yah, I was pretty darn imperfect, considering the fact I summoned demons regularly. But why the actual hell—or perhaps heaven—did I decide to summon an Angel!?\n\nReeling back from the Jewish star and Hebrew script written around it, I stumbled around making small gasping noises as my eyes burned and slowly, oh so slowly began to adjust back to the dim fluorescent lighting of my basement. I muttered a few small curses, a feverish question of “what have I done?” to both God and Satan, and then finally tripped over an armchair and landed comfortably in it with my but in the seat and legs over the armrest. Given that my basement was full of old furniture I no longer used, I shouldn’t have been surprised when a cloud of dust rose from it and sent me into a sneezing fit.\n\nAbout halfway through my fit, I realized something...rather disturbing... I could here sneezes between my own. Someone else was here with me. And given that I lived alone, that meant...\n\n“An angel?” I asked hopefully, squinting through my barely functioning eyes until they landed on the most magnificent being I had ever seen.\n\nAll those stories about how angels where white clothes, have beautiful faces and bodies, and radiate power, they were all true. Before me stood a woman robed in pristine white robes, reminiscent of some ancient time long gone, a wreath of the laurel atop her head. Her hair was fire red, seeming to float about her from some unseen force that framed her youthful face, that somehow also portrayed a knowledge beyond my understanding. Her bright gold eyes searched the room as she rubbed her cute little nose as it ran from the dust, and alit on me with joy.\n\n“Well hello,” she said softly, her voice rich like honey and smooth as butter. “You must have summoned me.”\n\n“I...I did,” I stammered out, too captivated to make much more of a statement or coherent thought.\n\n“I thank you, it was getting rather...tedious up there.” She smiled the most perfect smile, two rows of pearly whites gleaming almost as blindingly as the initial light from between two rosy red lips.\n\nTo which I responded intelligently with, “Ahsuwhh.” Wow, I felt like an idiot. I had faced down some of the most terrifying demons alive, including the infamous Beelzebub, but I couldn’t talk to an angel?\n\n“Would you mind if I stayed here?” She asked, not seeming to notice or care how awestruck I was. And for some reason, having a beautiful girl asking to stay at my house snapped me out of my little stupor.\n\n“Absolutely not!”\n\nI think I yelled it a little too forcefully, given the expression of hurt chagrin that nearly melted my heart, but on that point I could not waver. Or at least not yet. Number one rule of summoning was don’t let your summon get close to you. Most, if given the chance, would kill the summoner in order to be free, and I was a careful man. “No,” I reaffirmed, “you cannot stay here.”\n\n“Oh, please let me stay!” The angel’s voice took on a pleading tone, serenading my heart to want to listen, and of course I had planned to listen either way. My curiosity was rising now, and a being full of information stood before me. “I do not wish to return to heaven right now!”\n\n“Why wouldn’t you?” I asked as calmly as I could, extracting myself from the armchair to stand. I realized then that while she looked perfectly normal from my sitting position, she was actually quite tall, towering over my six foot frame by a good foot. “Isn’t heaven a...paradise and all?”\n\n“It is,” she confirmed, “but only for the deceased. Us angels, we must work are hardest every day to please all of the lamb of God and the Lord himself. It can’t be helped that we would eventually wish for a break. To which you perfectly answered my prayer!”\n\n“Hold up, you’re telling me, that an Angel of God is tired of working for God?”\n\n“Not tired of working for Him, I just wished for a break.” She was smiling a little again, a little more confident that I was listening to her. I still wasn’t convinced her story was accurate.\n\n“And what did you do in heaven?” I asked. It was something I had planned to ask, but her plight certainly made it easy to segway into it.\n\n“I filled out the information of every deceased human sole as they approached the gates of heaven, that way the judges could decide based on their lives and beliefs if admittance should be granted. And on the weekends I sang in the choir at God’s throne, which yes, is as magnificent as it sounds,” she cooed happily. “That I might miss, but all that paper work? I felt more like a bureaucrat than a divine being.”\n\n“You we’re pushing papers?” I frowned, unimpressed by the Angel I had summoned. She sounded like an unhappy office worker more than a divine being, and to beg to stay away from heaven, that was absurd. Demons longed to be able to go there.\n\n“More or less,” she agreed, then muttered under her breath, “I sort of understand why Lucifer left. Having to document the creation of the world and all future possibilities? That could take centuries!”\n\nFor a moment, I just stared at her in shock, the absolute insanity of the situation slowly setting in until I began to laugh hysterically. “Oh God, What in the world am I supposed to do with this!?” I gasped out between laughs, doubling over until I finally managed to get myself under control. The angel had simply watched with a mildly puzzled expression on her face, and I realized exactly what I wanted to do. “Alright, you don’t want to go back, but I have every right and power to do so, correct?”\n\n“Yes,” the angel said with some discomfort appearing on her face as she took in the Star of David she stood in. “Where did you find this...”\n\n“Questions later,” I quickly interjected. “Right now, we are discussing what you would do not to go back to heaven.”\n\n“Anything.”\n\nI blinked, a little taken aback by the fast and sure answer. “Even selling your souls?” I countered, and she frowned.\n\n“Ok, most things,” she revised.\n\n“Fair enough. Then I have a proposition. You teach me everything you know about heaven, the other angels, and how to summon more. In return, you can stay here until either I decide to send you back or God sends an escort for you. ‘Cause I am not crossing God anymore than I already have.”\n\n“Oh thank you!” She leapt at me, tears streaming down her face as she tackled me with a hug and nearly bowled me over. For such a large being though, she was surprisingly light. And warm. Very comforting and warm. “I promise you won’t regret this!”\n\n“I sure hope not,” I rejoined sarcastically, gently extracting myself from her grip. “You’ll have to stay down here, at least until I can clean out a guest bedroom. There’s a bed over in the corner and I can bring you some sheets.” I turned to head for the stairs as the angel took in the old bed and mattress, unfazed by it’s rickety appearance as she strode over to it and began to hum as she beat the dust from the mattress. I smiled at that, don’t know why, but her immediate acceptance of her situation was...cute. Well, frankly, everything about her was cute. It wasn’t until I was halfway up the stairs that a disturbing thought hit me.\n\n“Wait, how did she get out of the enchantment circle?” It was at that moment I realized I would need to be careful, careful to watch who was really controlling who in this new, soon to be far longer than expected partnership." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Everyday at 12:00 AM, you black out. When you wake up, you are a completely different person every time. You remember your past selves, but eveyone else forgets your past selves at 12:00 AM. One day, someone walks up to you and shows you a chart of all your past selves." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I decided to stop living. Not through death but in spirit, the type of dying that samurai might call the easy road and cowards like me find solace in. But here I was, on a new bed again, an unfamiliar room each day and a new body with the memories of my past lives intact. On Thursday I was an old man, on Friday a mother, and now on Saturday, I'm a teenage boy that's just hit eighteen. Maybe this time I'm the real me.\n\n\"Danny!\" a voice screeched from downstairs. It brought attention to the peeling wallpaper, the taint of smoke, and lack of insulation in this new environment. \"Get your punk ass down here, boy!\" the voice said.\n\nIt could be worse, maybe I'd be an abused wife like last week or a homeless man in a typhoon once more. This was small fry business, but that didn't ease the knot in my stomach.\n\n\"I'm fucking coming, cunt,\" I said. Homes like these usually involved enough swearing to make barmen pale and enough violence to make prison guards queasy. But the best way to fight fire was to be cold, as heartless as ice, or else you find yourself burned over and over again, I'd experienced it one too many times.\n\nThe stairs groaned under my weight, quietening as I reached the last one.\n\n\"Fuck you call me, boy?\"\n\nThe voice definitely belonged to a woman. As I turned the corner and entered the kitchen I came face to face with a ham-fisted barbarian Queen, or the closest thing too a modern one. She hadn't visited a hairdresser in a few moons and had a dressing gown resembling stained leather.\n\n\"I'll give you a clue, it rhymes with blunt.\" I slumped opposite, eyeballing the barb.\n\nHer eyebrows narrowed, hawk-like, right before a killing strike. But instead of swatting, the big lady pulled a file from under her arm and let it flop open on the table. She nodded at me as if to say 'go on, have a look you smug fuck'.\n\nThat I did, reading each name on the list and becoming a little more puzzled. I knew those names, not just one or two but every single word, and there were hundreds. \"What's the meaning of this?\" I asked.\n\nMy heart was two pulses away from sending me into panic. This hadn't happened before. People usually forgot my past identities, yet this woman had each one documented.\n\nThe barbarian Queen pulled a lit cigarette out of God knows where and winked at me. \"This is the end of the road, Danny. Simple as it gets,\" she said, puffing and giggling away.\n\nI was up, fists balled, ears burning. \"People have tried me before and it ended with caskets and lilies every time, old lady.\"\n\n\"That so,\" she said, blowing smoke from each nostril. \"Guess I won't make Christmas after all then.\" She leaned back, waiting for me to make my move.\n\nI remained still because I couldn't do anything, in fact, I wouldn't do anything. This woman had the answers or at least some of them. She could tell me who I was." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: You joined the Dark Lord's army to ensure that the hero would be powerful enough - by defeating you - to confront the Dark Lord. It is becoming painfully clear he's not even strong enough to overcome YOU, and you're trying to figure out what to do." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Mortals are brought into this world not knowing their purpose. They must blindly feel through the darkness of existence to find the wellspring from which they were created for. Countless beings spend their entire lives never even getting close to their purpose. They can still live fulfilling lives, but they will forever have that niggling feeling.\n\nWe of the darkness, however, are an exception. Our roles are known from the beginning. The only thing we can change is how we achieve them. Say one of our kind knows they are to be a great warrior, but they desire only peace. These sorts founded temples and dojo’s and taught fighting. They fulfil their purpose whilst living the way they wish. This is how the Gods have decided we must live.\n\nThere is but one exception amongst the mortals, however. The Hero. Someone who will deliver them from the darkness. This singular being knows their purpose from birth and has no other road they are permitted to tread. Amongst our numbers, we pity this being but realise it is so the systems of the world can maintain balance.\n\nMy purpose, though, seems to be anathema to the Heroes. My purpose is to be a sacrifice to the Hero so he may grow strong enough to face the Dark Lord. When my purpose was revealed, many congratulated me. To be part of the all-encompassing narrative of the divine is the highest honour amongst our kind.\n\nSo I worked hard. Trained with every master who would give me the time of day. After decades I went from a street urchin barely feeding myself to one of the seven sinful lords who rule the dark continent.\n\nI will be honest here and admit I did enjoy these days. I voraciously devoured all knowledge and training I could, and I felt the purest joy fulfilling my purpose ordained by the gods. But as I look down from my throne, I can only wonder If I had gone too far.\n\nThe Hero and his party are lying at my feet, battered and bruised. One impaled to a pillar and another staring emptily at the stump that was once their right leg. The Hero stares up at me defiantly. He is fulfilling his destiny, but I have become not a roadblock but an impassable wall.\n\nI can feel the knots tightening in my gut as I feel myself slipping from my destiny.\n\n“GO ON, STRIKE ME DOWN THEN!” the Hero screams, splattering blood on the carpet beneath him. I crouch so I’m as close to his eye line as I can manage. I feel his gaze burning into mine. I let my mind race as I search for a way to salvage this situation.\n\n“Can you defeat the Dark Lord as you are Hero?” I ask, putting on as an enigmatic a tone as I can manage.\n\nThe Hero just glares at me. Clearly thinking my words are meant as a barb.\n\n“Obviously not. We were barely a match for you”, he answers with a resigned sigh.\n\nI feel the words pierce my very being. I had been too strong. I had become a force too untouchable. I wonder If the day I stand before the Gods and apologise for failing my purpose, they’d accept I was too eager to fulfil it. I had trained under so many masters I’d dare say only the Dark Lord, whom, like the Hero is divinely blessed, would be a match for me.\n\nI ponder as I stroll around my throne room, the terror-filled eyes of the Hero and his party following me. I had lived centuries while I waited, and to fill that time, I not only was trained, but I taught. Many an officer in the army is an apprentice I have guided. \t\n\nI stamp my sceptre to the ground causing a ringing echo to resound around the hall. White light gently falls like snowflakes onto the party. Their wounds were healing. Limbs were resetting and regrowing. Blood lost being replaced. The highest healing magic possible.\n\nThe Hero staggers to his feet, looking confused as his party stagger over to back him up. I turn and face the throne, showing my back to them. This is a sign of true arrogance, but they know they cannot face me in their hearts. My gaze moves up to the stained glass window depicting the Dark Lord. I’m just waiting for the moment to be right.\n\n“Why?” he finally asks, his tone unsure.\n\n“I myself cannot strike down that bastard”, I say, gesturing with my gaze to the Dark Lords image.\n\n“Only a Hero can do such a thing”, I explain, turning to lock gazes with the Hero. He briefly glances up to the image and back to me.\n\n“But we aren’t strong enough clearly”, the Hero says, his voice filled with bitter resentment.\n\n“Then why don’t I make you stronger” I offer. The party recoils a step in shock, clearly not expecting my words.\n\n“Why do such a thing?” the Hero asks. I cannot reveal the actual reason, for that would taint our roles. I think over everything that could explain my reasoning.\n\n“Long ago”, I begin pausing to collect the strange narrative I was manufacturing.\n\n“I had a little girl. She wanted to do so much good”, I continued. So far, I had not spoken a lie.\n\n“But she died, and I was lost to despair”, still no lie. I had lost my daughter in a terrible accident, a natural disaster.\n\n“That Dark Lord I am forced to serve”, I paused for dramatic effect before slumping my shoulders as if giving up on my words. Letting what hasn’t been said guide them. If they follow a false narrative, then that is how it must be. I feel a pang of guilt with this deceit. The Dark Lord had wept as much as I did at my daughter’s death.\n\n“So you wish me to strike down the Dark Lord?” the Heros asked. I just nodded.\n\n“I shall train you, make you all stronger than could be imagined, I shall even aid you should it be necessary”, I explained. The Hero thought for a while before holding out his hand. I took it, and the pact was made. I only hope the man who cried as much as I did when my daughter died will forgive me for my half-truths.\n\nSo it began. I taught them, made them stronger. I even sent a message to the Dark Lord himself explaining my reasoning. His reply was entertaining as ever. However, he recognised that rather than a force to be overcome, I was now a mentor who would be lost. I will one day fall to his blade, but I know it shall be magnificent and shall spur the Hero to the highest of heights. For that is my purpose." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: A loved and respected hero discovers something that leads him to become a morally questionable antihero." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Step away from her, Dr. Wasteland!”\n\n“Never! Earth will be brought to its knees!”\n\nSuper Earth rose two feet from the ground, his cape heroically flapping behind him as he spoke. “Earth is round, Wasteland. It has no knees.”\n\nThe people in the convenience store clapped and cheered. Earth was saving the day again!\n\n“Nevertheless”, cried Wasteland, tightening the grasp on the old lady's neck. “I shall crush it and see it fall!”\n\n“Earth cannot fall, Wasteland!\" Super Earth's voice echoed again. “For there is no gravity to pull it nor a place for which it\n\ncould fall into.”\n\n“Oh, go fuck yourself, Earth; my point is, I'm destroying the planet!”\n\nWith these words, Dr. Wasteland pushed the old lady aside and pulled his laser gun, firing mercilessly against the hero and the desperate bystanders.\n\n“You will be brought to justice!” Cried the Super Earth, arms stretched parallel to each other as he cruised the convenience store,\n\nflying straight into the villain's...\n\nEarth stopped in midair.\n\n“What the fuck is this?” asked the caped hero, his body floating horizontal in front of a shelf.\n\n“Wh-what?” the cashier mumbled from behind the counter.\n\n“This fucking shit here.” Earth picked up a green and yellow can, showing it around. “WHAT IS THIS?”\n\n“That's-- That's Mountain Dew, sir.”\n\n“I know that\", Earth cried, rolling his eyes. “I've been defending Earth on intergalactic trials and battles for ages, and\n\nMountain Dew has always been the hardest thing to counter argument, whenever folks talk about destroying mankind. What I\n\nmean is”, Earth returned to vertical position, landing his feet on the ground. “What the fuck is this flavor?”\n\nPeople slowly started rising from behind the shelves and refrigerators, and even Wasteland lowered his gun.\n\n“That's Dorito Flavored Mountain Dew, Earth.” Said the cashier, in a low voice.\n\n“Are you...” Super Earth sighed, closing his eyes and trying to remain calm. “...out of....” He took another breath; opened his eyes again: there was nothing but rage in them. “...your FUCKING MIND?”\n\n“Sir, no, I – AAAAAAAAAAH”.\n\nFrom Earth's wrists, laser beams flew straight into the counter, blowing up Tridents, cigarette packs and Lotto Tickets all\n\nover the store.\n\n“DORITO FLAVORED MOUNTAIN DEW? THIS IS THE SHIT YOU COME UP WITH, WHEN I'M OUT THERE TRYING TO DEFEND\n\nYOU?”\n\n“Sir, it's just a special edition, we --”\n\n“FUCK YOU, FATBOY”, cried Super Earth, striking a fat kid's face so hard his lower jaw went flying across the store.\n\n\"That's not even the boy who talked back to you!\" Cried a voice from behind the ATM.\n\n\"I DON'T GIVE A SHIT!\" Screamed back Earth, pushing aside the blood soaked, crying, jawless fat kid. \"Come on, Wasteland, let's mess this place up.\"\n\nAnd so it was that Super Earth teamed up with Wasteland, initially to fuck up a Seven Eleven, but, soon enough, expanding the job to the rest of the planet.\n\nWith one last glimpse over the shattered, post-apocalyptic New York scenery beneath him, Super Earth drank the last of the\n\nMountain Dew, let out a big burp and sighed:\n\n“Disgusting. Fucking Earthlings.”\n\nAnd flew away to better, Dorito-Flavored-Mountain-Dew-less lands." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: After slaying the witch, Hansel and Gretel realize that they have a knack for killing witches." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Hansel strode through the lobby of the WitchHunters building like he owned the place.\n\nWhich was, of course, natural, because that was precisely the case.\n\n\"Good morning, Veronica,\" he said as he greeted the gorgeous young woman seated behind the enormous desk taking up a portion of the wall near the elevators.\n\n\"Good morning, Mr. Richter. Your sister is upstairs in Conference One, sir. She said to let you know as soon as you came in.\"\n\nHansel cocked an eyebrow in surprise and Veronica returned it with a shrug.\n\n\"I see,\" he said. \"Thank you. Can you call Thomas and ask him to reschedule my ten o'clock. I've got a feeling this'll take a minute.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\nHansel walked into the elevator and moved his index finger in between the two columns of floor buttons. It took a few seconds longer then usual, but then the elevator beeped its acknowledgement.\n\n\"Thirty-first floor,\" he told it and the elevator sped upward, skipping all other stops.\n\nIt deposited him in the lobby of the conference room floor, and Hansel took a moment to once again admire the place. When they were building the place, he and Gretel had agreed to make this floor the most presentable, so as to impress potential clients. They had spared no expense in its design and Hansel glanced through the floor to ceiling window, taking in the magnificent panorama of the city of Frankfurt as it stretched before him.\n\n\"You want to hurry up, Hansel?\" came a somewhat annoyed voice from the far end, and he saw his sister peering through the door of Conference One.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"good morning to you too, Gretel.\"\n\nShe huffed and he followed her through the door.\n\nAnd stopped dead in his track as he recognized the man sitting in the second seat on the right from the conference room table's head.\n\nThe man was of average height and wore a crisp black suit, which went well with the mop of messy black hair atop his head. Hair that did absolutely nothing to hide the distinctive, if somewhat old-looking, lightning bolt shaped scar in the middle of his forehead.\n\n\"And how can we,\" Hansel asked tentatively as he took the seat at the table's head, \"assist the British Ministry this morning, Mr. Potter?\"\n\n\"I apologize for my brother's lack of manners. He never did have any,\" said Gretel and smacked Hansel on the forearm.\n\n\"No need,\" he replied and looked at the both of them.\n\n\"As I began telling your sister, Mr. Richter, I'm looking to hire some of your hunters for a job that needs doing. Actually, I was rather hoping the two of you would be available, as it's quite a...sensitive job and we need to be discreet.\"\n\n\"What you mean to say, Mr. Potter,\" said Gretel, \"is that your Aurors screwed the pooch and that the Ministry can't afford to expend the political capital it would take to get them across international borders to do their job.\"\n\n\"Err...I wouldn't put it that way. But if we're being blunt, then yes.\"\n\n\"So what happened?\" asked Gretel.\n\nPotter scowled.\n\n\"We've kept it quiet, but last week, a high security prisoner escaped as we were transferring her from Azkaban. She escaped four of my Aurors somewhere over the North Sea. Killed one. We have information that she was heading east. But you know how the Russian ministry is these days. All promises, but when we ask them for permits, it's like an Impediment charm.\"\n\nGretel looked at Hansel.\n\nAs nominally independent contractors, they had far more freedom of movement then even Ministry aurors. They didn't advertise it much, but it was an open secret that most of WitchHunter's business came from government contracts precisely because of this fact.\n\n\"You realize,\" said Hansel, looking at Potter, \"how much this will cost you?\"\n\nPotter looked down at the faint scar on his right hand.\n\n\"To tell you the truth,\" he said finally, looking up at Hansel, \"whatever it is, it'll be worth it.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: They say you die twice, the second time being when your name is said for the last time. You've been stuck in this purgatory for literally millennia all because you sold some low-quality copper to someone." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nasir enjoyed sitting here on the nondescript...bench? Was this gray-yet-glowing shape a bench? Whatever. It was a passable seat. Not exceedingly comfortable, but not particularly uncomfortable either. When he bored of standing, this ill-defined shape provided some variety in his position. Sitting, standing, leaning lying down...oh he'd tried them all. Not because he needed to, of course. He never felt truly fatigued or tired here in The Waiting Place. Of course, he never felt particularly energetic either.\n\nFor now though, sitting on this \"bench\" and watching the new arrivals made for a fine way to pass the time. The pace had heightened recently. More...doors? Gates? Windows? More spaces had opened up on this side of the clearing, and a steadily growing stream of people constantly came through. Billions of people had come through since Nasir arrived, and most of them had left already, out the other side of this place. Not Nasir though. No, whenever he tried to approach one of the exits, he could never seem to reach it, as if it were fleeing from him and the space between stretching away. So many others Nasir had met seemed to eventually feel \"drawn\" to one of the exits, as if they instinctively knew which one to approach. Only those people could successfully walk through the exit.\n\nNasir had made many friends here, before they finally moved on to their exit. Eventually, he had determined the pattern. Those with the greatest legacies, most remembered by history, were stuck here with him. It seemed that one could not move on from this place until all those back on Earth had said your name for the last time.\n\n\"Watching the newcomers again, Nasir?\"\n\n\"Hm? Oh, good health, Alex. Yes, I suppose I am. The pace of their arrival continues to increase.\"\n\n\"Yes, I just finished welcoming a gentleman named Dennis. Apparently there's over 8 billion people out there now.\"\n\nNasir shook his head. 8 billion people. He had thought Babylon was the height of civilization, yet it must pale in comparison to kingdoms that existed out there now. If only those people could forget about him. If only that thrice-damned tablet had been destroyed by the ravages time. If only it had been destined to never be found. If only.\n\n\"Good health, Alex...Nasir\"\n\nNasir cringed. If he weren't as grey and nondescript as the rest of this forsaken place, his face would have been flush with rage as he lashed out,\n\n\"Get out of here you headless fool! Why even dare approach? Not content with trapping me here, you take it upon yourself to say my name to highlight your treachery? May Nergal claim you finally, just to spare me from seeing your idiotic face!\"\n\nAlex chimed in, \"Nasir, calm down, Nanni is just as stuck as the rest of-\"\n\n\"MY treachery?! Our stagnation is YOUR fault Nasir, you duplicitous cheat! If you hadn't scammed every craftsman from Mari to Lagash with your dirt-grade copper, you wouldn't have a collection of complaint letters like mine with our names on them! And by what twisted pride were you driven to keep my tablet, yet never respond? It's your greed-filled legacy that was discovered millennia after we should have moved on!\"\n\nAlex shook his head as Nasir and Nanni came to blows yet again. As usual, they would continue causing each other mild discomfort at most (despite their mutual best efforts) until they finally got bored of the altercation. Uniting Macedon and Persia under one kingdom was an easy task compared to reconciling these two. Hopefully, this \"Nuclear Armageddon\" so many of the newcomers were worried about would come swiftly, and erase all evidence of ancient history from the world. Maybe then, Alex thought, he and the others could finally find their exits." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Immortality doesn't grant infallible memory - long unthought of memories will fade, and your personality will change with time like any other human" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I walked through my library for the first time in a decade and felt a great sense of pride fill me. It contained a collection of all the oldest and most precious things I owned over my very long life. I have no I idea of how old I really am of course, immortality doesn’t grant infallible memory, they fade over time, and I can’t remember anything of my first few “lives”. They say every cell in your body changes every 7 years. Well, its similar with memories. I found that unless something truly memorable occurred, then I couldn’t remember a thing from 200 years prior. And in the same way you can say you have a new body every 7 years, every 200 years I would have a new set of memories, a new personality, a new name and a new “life”.\n\nThe first time I realised I panicked, thinking I had to preserve who I was and remember everything about what I had done. I would write detailed accounts in big diaries that now clutter my library and go mostly unread, all so I could preserve my sense of self. Everything was changing around me with time, I had to have at least one constant, and that could only be me. For a brief period I also thought that if I couldn’t truly remember my life from so long ago, then maybe I wasn’t really immortal, just mad, and that the few haunting memories from centuries ago were just my mind playing tricks on me.\n\nSince I created my library though, I know I am not mad. I have collected too many diaries, portraits, and artefacts over the years to have just imagined being immortal. I have also stopped writing my diaries, or at least I write a lot less in them. There is simply too much to read now, and I often find myself hating, pitying, or outright laughing at who I used to be. I have found that to stay sane, I have to separate myself from my past. Not forget entirely, but absolve myself of my actions, feel no pride or guilt about what I did centuries ago. I change so much over time that the person that performed those actions might as well be a total stranger. So, I treat them as different people. Different people with different names, but with the same face.\n\nI look at a painting of myself hanging against a shelf filled with books. The painting is of me in the 16th century dressed in a red uniform looking proud and righteous, and has the name “Antonio Garcia de Torquemada” written at bottom. It was an inquisitor’s uniform (no one expects the Spanish inquisition!) as “Antonio” was a religious zealot, that had spent most of his “life” hunting heretics and “witches”. “Wow” I thought to myself “that guy was such a prick”. I can’t remember why it all seemed to matter so much to “Antonio” or how he could have been so certain and so devoted. I can’t even remember what prompted “Antonio” to abandon that life. Like a frog in boiling water, he hadn’t noticed as he changed with the times until he looked back and could barely recognize who he used to be.\n\nThere are a few different “lives” that I enjoy re-reading. Although they are diaries, my most interesting “lives” play out as well written tragedies or comedies, sometimes both. I come back every decade or so to re-read all my diaries, to try and regain some knowledge or wisdom from my previous “lives”. I have kept my library very secret though. People had discovered about my immortality a few times in the earlier years and it never ended well. It was easier to disappear back then when writing was barely a thing. I could just move to a new place, and stories about me would just become local folklore. Not anymore though, so I keep my library entirely off grid. A treasure trove of knowledge and artifacts, a depository of centuries of human experience and history, all locked away. “One day I’ll open it up to the world” I think. One day when civilization had advanced far enough that I won’t be imprisoned or experimented upon, I’ll open it up and it will be my gift to the world. But not today…" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: For thousands of years. the evil dragon kidnaps one person from the town each year to take to his lair. The king wishes to put an end to these routine kidnappings, and goes to slay the dragon, but when he reaches the dragon’s lair he sees all the kidnapped people alive and partying" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And when the king saw this, he became upset and he said to the people, \"Selfish beings! Have you no hearts? Look; even I, your king, has left his throne to find you, to bring you back to your loved ones who have missed you dearly, and here you are -- partying!\"\n\n\"We don't care! We don't care!\" the people replied. \"Go back to your kingdom and tell your loved ones we are dead, we are having too much fun partying to go back!\"\n\nAs he was leaving, he saw the dragon returning som ways off. And the dragon, seeing the king, flew down to meet him, and kneeling in respect, the dragon said, \"Greetings, O King. Have mercy on me. I see you have come to rescue your people. As you see, I do not guard over them. I was gone for many hours and they could have left. I brought them here, but they choose to stay.\"\n\n\"Go in peace,\" said the king. \"I will be sending you more soon.\"\n\nAnd when the people of the king's kingdom saw that he had returned without their lost ones, they were dismayed. But the king told them about the partying in the cave, and he said, \"All those who wish to go and be with their loved ones in the dragon's lair may go. But those who stay will be forever under my protection.\"\n\nSo many left. But many stayed, saying to the king, \"You are a good king to us, and you have never decieved us or treated us unfairly.\"\n\nThe king sent a messenger ahead of the leaving party to tell the dragon this: \"I am sending you those who wish to be with you. Those who have stayed are mine. But my heart will always have room for my people, and whenever they are willing to return, my door will be opened. But know this: You and yours will not touch me and mine. Otherwise, your side will pay with death.\"\n\nThe dragon heard this and he did not tell the people . And it was so that, after awhile, a few people became tired of partying and wanted to return to the kingdom. But they did not think their king would be merciful to them if they repented, so they continued to party.\n\nMany months passed, and the king's kingdom was beginning to grow again - slowly but steadily - and the people began to pressure the dragon, questioning him, \"Why haven't you gone and grabbed another person? Grab another person so our former king can suffer!\" (For their hearts had grown cold and callous).\n\nEventually, the dragon relented and he went out and took another person from the king's kingdom. So the king sent a messenger to the dragon, saying, \"You have dishonored our agreement and now I must keep my word. But my heart still sorrows for my former people and I will have mercy on those who ask.\"\n\nAnd, again, the dragon did not tell the people. But one person overheard, and he told the rest of the people. And they went to the dragon and said, \"We wish to go.\"\n\nAnd the dragon laughed and said, \"No.\" And he blocked their way.\n\nWhen the king arrived with his army, the people began to scream and shout for mercy. They were so loud that the dragon was afraid the king would hear. So he let fire loose from his mouth and killed the people.\n\nAnd the king came to the lair and asked, \"Where are my people? Have they asked for mercy?\"\n\nThe dragon replied, \"Yes, but they are dead. I have killed them.\"\n\nAnd the king drew his sword and slew the dragon. Then he knelt to the ground and wept for his people. When he was done mourning, he consecrated the cave, but left it open as a warning to those who choose to follow evil.\n\nNo one is allowed to enter, but for those who climb the cliff, there is a place you can stand that will allow you to see the remains of the dragon and all the people who died following him.\n\nThe bones remain there to this day." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: As a software developer, you jokingly add a \"in exchange for your soul\" clause to EULAs of your programs. When you die, you arrive in hell, where it turns out souls are used as currency. And you own a lot of them." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Satan sat atop his enormous throne, its black and twisted form casting a grotesque shadow across the hall. He was not paying any attention to the dozens of people crowding around waiting to be processed, nor was he interested in the hundreds more that fell through the entrance portal at the far end of the room. Satan instead focussed all his attention on the long contract he held in his clawed hands. He peered down at it through small spectacles that he kept for just these kinds of problems.\n\n“What did you call it? A yoo-lah? Like the mathematician?” He said to the small man standing nearby.\n\n“Uh, not like the mathematician. I think he prefers the pronunciation ‘oi-lah’,” said the man.\n\nSatan was not used to back-talk from his victims, and he shot the man a pointed glance. It had exactly the desired effect: the man stepped a few paces with a yelp as he backed onto the points of the spears held by various hellish minions.\n\n“Sorry! no, yes! It’s a EULA. End User License Agreement!”\n\n“I see,” Satan said, with a cocked eyebrow, “and you put in a clause that transferred ownership of the soul of the signee?”\n\n“It’s was just a silly little thing, I’m sorry!” The man began mumbling and babbling as his fear seemed to overflow him.\n\n“Oh, so you thought that was dreadfully funny, did you?” Satan stood now, moving quickly to tower over this pathetic human, “and did people sign this document?”\n\n“They did! They did! Thousands of them! Millions!” The man yelped again as the spearpoint embedded itself deeper into his back. The best thing about Hell, in Satan’s most educated opinion, was that nothing ever caused any real damage. Only pain. You could torture a soul for hundred million years and barely cause even a scratch. He licked his lips at the very thought.\n\nSatan turned back to the EULA and began reading it again. It was certainly a thing of beauty to ensnare so many people with something as simple as a document. He should have guess that when he created lawyers that this kind of thing would turn up eventually, but coming from a software developer like the one stood before him? He couldn’t help but be impressed.\n\n“How did you get these people to sign?” he said, “did they even read it?”\n\n“Oh no, not at all. I don’t think anyone reads them,” the man said, “I slapped it on the front of my social media aggregator and two million people downloaded and signed the EULA overnight. By the end of the first week we were on a hundred million!”\n\nA hundred million in a week. Now those weren’t the rookie numbers Satan usually had to put up with. With a tool such as this, he could ensnare even the most pious of humans and drag them down to his realm kicking and screaming. Oh, they would definitely scream. But of course, there were the hundred million already owned by the poor poor human man in front of him.\n\n“I think you’re a genius,” Satan said with a broad grin.\n\nThe man looked shocked at such a complement. He even attempted a smile, but it turned into more of a grimace, mostly due to the spears.\n\n“I want you to work for me, how does that sound?” Satan said.\n\nThe man took a moment to think about the proposal, weighing up the pros and cons of full time employment versus eternal damnation. Naturally he came to the correct conclusion, “where do I sign?” he said.\n\nSitting back on the throne, Satan took a long blackened quill and started frantically scribbling a contract onto thick parchment. His grin deepened the more he wrote, until it was spread across his face, his mouth nearly tickling his ears.\n\n“Sign here, please,” Satan said, thrusting out both the quill and the contract. The man didn’t even hesitate.\n\n“Fool! For I have used your own tricks against you!” Satan said, and began reading out the contract he had written, “Section 2, paragraph 3a, the undersigned shall handover every soul in their possession and condemn themselves to an eternity of damnation! Take him away!”\n\nThe man screamed. The minions sank their spears deeper into his back and lifted him into the air, taking him away for the first of many torturous days to come. The crowd parted around them, and many of the people in attendance backed away from the King Of Darkness.\n\nSatan however, sank back into his throne, satisfied with a good day’s work. Yesterday he and his minions had only pulled in a few thousand souls. Now he was in possession of a hundred million! Sure, it was a long term investment, but if he put together a few more of the EULA things, he’d have the fires of hell well fuelled for centuries to come." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: One day, everyone discovers that sleeping is no longer necessary" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was a weird time for my parents. But then again I guess they were weird since they were parents to begin with. After a rather short burst of prosperity, companies stopped increasing wages while everything slowly kept getting more expensive. That's what my mother told me later.\n\nThe old stereotypes of one working partner per household - usually that was the man, i believe - changed and in 2000 most people wanted their own income. My mother said it was about independence. I think I can understand.\n\nIn 2020 scientists discovered that sleep is useless. Vitamins and additional nutrients in food and drinks helped people to keep their perfect weight, new antioxidants were introduced to keep their skin young. And as a result their bodies didn't need sleep anymore. Scientists noticed it, because they stopped feeling tired.\n\nThis was celebrated as a huge victory. Society was changing rapidly at that time. With everyone working, the birth rates dropped to new lows. But it wasn't just that. In an effort to stop abortions, governments all over the world allowed special additives in regular food. Instead of having to actively prevent giving birth, now the additives in food would prevent pregnancy, unless you chose to eat a special diet. As a result many educational facilities had to shut down.\n\nFor the companies it was paradise. Masses of people willing to work. Low wages. But it didn't stay like that. When the last \"big\" generation retired, there was barely enough people left to replace them. Wages went back up, because it got so much harder to get good personnel.\n\nThat's when the ministry of productivity made this big decision. Without productive citizens, you see, there could be no production, no goods, nothing to sell. In order to give the industry more work-time, they decided to outlaw sleep.\n\nI'm not sure if that was right or wrong. I remember my parents were confused. But nobody gets tired, so you can't easily fall asleep. That's what I thought. Now I'm not so sure anymore. You see, my father died a few months ago. I was out of the house already and working my 16-19 hours in a different city. I think it really got to my mother. It must have. I can't imagine why else she would have done what she did.\n\nMy mother went to work last week, just like every other day. She sat down at her desk, read her email and then she built a little pillow with her arms. She lay her head down on this and I can only guess she wanted to. She fell asleep.\n\nDue to the severity of previous sleep crimes, the punishment is quite high. Of course she got fired, but right now judges are deciding what will happen to her. Usually you send criminals to jail where they are taught to be productive. But what to do with someone who refuses to be productive? No country wants to pay the bill for a single person's uselessness. Repeated offenders have been sent to death row in the early years of the economical crisis caused by lack of work force. But it's been years.\n\nToday I'm allowed to visit her. I stare at her through the bars that separate us, the dangerous criminal who is my mother and me.\n\n\"Why did you do that?\", I ask, unsure if I can say \"sleep\" in this place.\n\nShe looks at me with eyes I can only describe as tired. \"Just one last time\", she says, \"one last time I wanted to see him.\"\n\nThe guard looks nervous and says I need to leave now. I may try it, at home, where nobody sees me. Someday.\n\nI'm sure they'll execute her." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You are an early-adolescent teen. You're elderly relative is dying. On their last legs, they want to show you something that will stay with you forever" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Grandpa Earl looked his grandchild in the eyes and smiled the kindly smile that Connor loved so much. His smile was a reflection of his kind soul. Earl always had a smile or a joke at the ready whenever someone needed it. Sometimes even when they didn't know they did. Earl knew his grandson needed a smile now.\n\n\"Does it hurt, Grandpa?\" Connor asked. \"The cancer?\"\n\nEarl, honest to a fault, said, \"Yes. Yes it does, son.\"\n\n\"I don't want you to go, but I don't want you to hurt anymore.\" Connor swiped at his eyes with his shirtsleeve and tried to put on a brave face for this man who raised him after his mother had died just three years earlier. \"Remember when I fell and hurt my teeth? You came out and took me to the doctor. Does it hurt like that?\"\n\n\"No, Connor, not like that. It's more like...\" Earl winced and continued, \"more like just really sleepy, but you can't just tap a nap and feel better.\"\n\nConnor tried stop the tears but couldn't. His grandfather had been a large, strong man for as long as he could remember but over the last few months had atrophied to nothing. His sallow skin stretched taut across his knuckles, knees, and shoulders. Every time Connor looked at him he was reminded of how quickly he had withered away. Earl noticed the way Connor looked at him, and it saddened him, too, but he smiled. It seemed to be the only thing about him that never withered.\n\n\"Connor, hand me my wallet. It's on the nightstand.\"\n\nConnor followed the trembling hand as it pointed and he tried to ignore the tubes going into the machines, into his grandpa. He picked up the worn leather wallet and placed it in Earl's hand.\n\n\"Son, I have always kept this in my wallet and whenever I've had a tough day I think about it. My grandfather told me about this when he died, and he said his grandfather did the same. It's a tradition in our family. And now-\"\n\nA coughing fit racked Earl's frail form. Connor watched, wishing he could help.\n\n\"Now, I'd like to show it to you. Keep it for your grandson, but I don't want you to forget about it. I'd like you to keep this in your wallet for those gloomy days.\"\n\n\"I don't have a wallet.\"\n\n\"You don't? Well, then, we'll have to fix that.\" Earl emptied the contents of his wallet onto the bed next to him. He held out the wallet to Connor who took it reverently.\n\n\"Promise me you won't forget, Connor.\"\n\n\"I won't forget. I promise.\" Tears spilled freely down Connor's face.\n\n\"Look in the billfold pocket.\"\n\nGrandpa Earl smiled in contentment and closed his eyes. Connor opened the wallet, the softened leather creaking but inaudible over the sound of the machines surrounding his grandfather. He looked into the wallet and saw a folded piece of paper in the corner. He took it out and turned it over in his hands. Connor glanced up at his grandfather, who had stopped breathing.\n\nKnowing that his grandfather had died, but wanting to honor his last moment before interrupting it with the hospice nurse and the calls he knew he'd have to make Connor stood and kissed his grandfather on his still-warm forehead. He looked down at the piece of paper and opened it. A naked picture of his grandmother stared back at him." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: “You think you know the story of Christmas,” said Turtle Dove, “but you’ve only heard the fable. Let me tell you the true story of the Twelve Days War.”" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I settled, somewhat hesitantly, into the leather chair in front of the fire. At 12 years of age, I didn’t really believe in Santa, but I figured out the game ages ago - if I admitted to my parents that “I knew” then I’d stop getting Santa presents.\n\nThe guy sitting across from me certainly looked like Santa, except he had a great big diagonal scar that ran from his left eyebrow down to the right side of his chin, and he didn’t seem very jolly.\n\n“You do not believe in Father Christmas,” he grated.\n\nI would have lied, but he had this intense look in his eyes that made me feel as though he could see through me. I wasn’t about to admit that I don’t, either. So, I shrugged.\n\n“Heh. That is because all you have heard are fables and bedtime tales. You do not know of the war in the town of Christmas. You do not know of the Twelve Day War.”\n\nI laughed, nervously, but this guy’s face was as straight as a brick. He didn’t flinch. “You’re joking,” I said. “You’re just a fake Santa my parents hired to sit here, so that when Lilly and I come down in the morning we’d think you were the real thing.” My words sounded crazy even as they poured out of my mouth. Would my parents really go that far?\n\n“I’m not Santa, and war is no joke.”\n\n“Yeah? So who are you, and why are you in my house?”\n\n“My name,” he said, “is James Turtledove.” He pointed towards the fireplace. “Watch, and learn, for you are destined to join the ranks of the Guardians of Christmas one day.”\n\nAt this point I didn’t know if I should run to my parents and call for help, or laugh. But something made my gaze flicker towards the fire, and when it did, my breath caught.\n\nThe flames had formed an entire town, with spiralling towers and houses built of stone, even a market square crowded with little people made of ash and embers.\n\n“How did you do that?” I breathed, sliding off the chair and moving closer to the hearth.\n\n“That is not important,” he said. “If you look closely, you will see how the war began.”\n\n“How?” I asked, struggling to see past the people crowding around a tall tree with naked branches.\n\n“Captain Partridge of the Christmas Guards was found hanging from the sacred pear tree.”\n\nI gasped. “A partridge in a pear tree?”\n\n“Indeed. A scroll was stuffed into his mouth. The dark one, declaring war on the town of Christmas.”\n\n“Why?”\n\nTurtledove met my gaze. “Evil needs no motive.” He took a ragged breath and continued. “My brother, Peter, and I called on the great hens of the mountains, and they sent three emissaries. It took hours to convince them to aid us in the war. In the end, when the dark forces surrounded our town, they saw that they had no choice but to join our cause. One of the hens, Jenna, declared that she will fly to the mountains and bring aid. My brother and I mounted the other two, and we called on the four Bird brothers to prepare their regiments.\n\n“With that, we marched out to meet our foe on battlefield. Thousands of demons, armed with crossbows and scimitars and poisoned arrows. It was a blood bath.”\n\nI could see it, there in the fire in front of my eyes. The flames roared and clashed together, and many died.\n\n“Who won?” I croaked.\n\n“We’re fought for five days, and though we kept searching the sky for Jenna and her promise of aid, none came. Many good men and women lost their lives. On the fifth day, mage by the name of Ghol’den descended from his spiralled tower, and he created five rings of fire on the battlefield that would not harm us. Yet the moment the demons stepped in, they were eaten up by the flames and sent hurling through a vortex in the ground.”\n\nTurtledove smiled slightly. “It’s no wonder Ghol’den is celebrated to this day.”\n\nJust as he says that, a door creaked and clicked shut. The sound came from upstairs. “Lilly? Is that you down there?”\n\nIt was mom.\n\nWhen I looked back towards the chair, it was empty, and the fire had died.\n\n“Just me, mom.” I mumbled, still staring into the ash. Did I dream all of that? I stretched my hand out towards the hearth and felt the heat from within. No. It wasn’t a dream." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: \"Overwhelming darkness.\" \"Don't be so melodramatic.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“But it is!” Andria whined.\n\n“This? This is ‘moderately inconvenient’ darkness. It isn’t even in the top five bad darknesses.” snapped Emmett. “Listen up kid. This darkness is empty. Nothing creepy or hungry or blood-thirsty in it, except me.”\n\nThe two Knight Errants walked further into the unlit tunnel. They each kept a hand on the coarse cement wall to avoid falling. Emmett, feeling ill-at-ease despite his warnings, decided to fill the halls with something other than the echoes of their footsteps and Andria’s nervous breathing.\n\n“In our business, this darkness is standard issue. Just plain blindness. The next step up is obscuring darkness, which is when there’s something bad hiding in it.”\n\n“H-how can you tell the difference?” said Andria.\n\n“Experience mostly. Until then, you’ll know when something tries to eat you.” Emmett shrugged, then realized that nobody could see him shrug and felt a little stupid. “Most of the things we hunt see better than us. A few even make their own darkness. Which leads us to magical darkness.”\n\nHow long had they been walking? Subterranean crawls were always the worst time-sinks. The clinging dampness seemed to sink into clothes, necessitating an early trip to the laundromat. Emmett wondered briefly if he’d see Clara there. The chipper old lady always had a funny story.\n\n“What about magical darkness?” asked Andria.\n\n“What? Oh, right.” Emmett brought himself back into the conversation. It’d been deadly silent for awhile. “Magical darkness isn’t really darkness. It’s more like a filter in the air, like tinting a window. Light comes out in weird colors.”\n\n“Should we try lighting a match or something? Just in case?” Andria’s voice leapt at the chance to bring some light into the situation.\n\n“Nah. I’d know if it were magical.” Emmett patted one of the pockets on his fanny pack which contained a fire detector. Magical darkness set those things off like nothing else.\n\n“Then there’s the next one...” Emmett stopped and Andria bumped into his back with an ‘ooph’.\n\n“Shh.” said Emmett.\n\nHe took a few tentative steps. Silent. Deadly silent. What happened to the sound of his footsteps?\n\n“That’s not good.” he said, but no sound came out.\n\nAndria placed a hand on his shoulder. He took and gently set it onto the bungee cable connecting their hips. Fumbling in the fanny pack, Emmett brought out a flashlight and turned it on. The bulb grew hot but no light came out.\n\nThis was the last kind of darkness. Overwhelming darkness. It wasn’t the absence of light; it consumed light. And apparently sound, but not heat. Emmett frowned to himself but decided that now wasn’t a good time to think about it.\n\nMore fanny pack zippers silently opened. Emmett drew out a handful of nasty surprises and calmly placed a few in one of Andria’s shaking hands. The rest he tossed into the tunnel.\n\nSound came back. The fire detector was chirping so Emmett pulled its battery.\n\n“Andria, you hear me?”\n\n“Yes.” she whispered.\n\n“Good. Next lesson. Throw the stuff in you hands behind us. Spread ‘em out if you can.”\n\nWhen she did, Emmett’s flashlight began to shine through, though it stopped five feet ahead of him. On the floor around them were dozens of cheap refrigerator magnets bearing religious iconography.\n\n“What is it?” Andria whispered.\n\n“Honestly, not a damn clue.” Emmett said back. “Which means we’re getting the hell out of here.”\n\nThey carefully withdrew from the tunnels, magnets in hand. It felt eerie to keep quiet so Emmett gave another impromptu lecture.\n\n“Hey, kid. Tell me the mission of the Knight Errants.” he said.\n\n“Mediators.” Andria squeaked. “We’re supposed to keep the balance and kill the things that don’t.”\n\n“Good. You’re paying attention. But here’s the other part,” Emmett said a little breathlessly. Despite how far they’d walked, the wall of overwhelming darkness continued to eat the flashlight’s beam five feet ahead. He took it to mean that thing, whatever it was, was moving with them.\n\n“We’re grunts. We do the legwork for simple jobs. Vamps, werewolves, things that you can lookup online.” He continued. “This shadow-thingy is above our pay grade. So we’re just gonna get out of here and make this someone else’s problem. Understood?”\n\nAndria squeaked a yes. The darkness seemed to be falling back, but Emmett knew better.\n\n“Ah shit. Run!” he chucked his handful of magnets and started sprinting, dragging Andria by the bungee cord. She must’ve caught a glance of it speeding towards them because she was keeping pace with him. They bounded up the tunnel stairs and dove into the evening starlight.\n\nThe darkness, whatever it was, didn’t follow them out of the tunnel.\n\n“That, kid, is overwhelming darkness.” Emmett panted.\n\n\"I don't like it.\" coughed Andria.\n\nEmmett nodded and pulled out his phone. \"Our bosses probably won't either.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: An adventurer sets out to steal a dragon's treasure, however as it turns out the dragon is completely broke. After an awkward silence they decide to team up and earn some gold." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Chloe crept through the corridor, clutching her weapon in her hand. She knew the beast would be close, as no dragon left its hoard alone for long.\n\nOne by one, she checked the rooms, but each was either empty or filled with nothing of interest. Finally, Chloe found a door that resisted her attempt to enter. She drew the key from her pocket and slid it into the door, and the door opened. Chloe allowed herself a slight smile as she entered the lair.\n\nHer joy gave way to confusion as she processed what she saw. The palatial room, with its vaulted ceiling and intricately-decorated walls, lay entirely empty, save for the enormous winged serpent reclining at its center. The green-scaled creature turned to face Chloe, its serpentine visage, though somewhat alien to Chloe, still managing to portray a disinterested expression.\n\n“You’re too late, adventurer. It’s already gone,” the creature said as it rolled over, placing its back toward Chloe.\n\n“What do you mean gone?” Chloe replied, perplexed at the dragon’s apparent lethargy.\n\nThe beast sat up at once and turned again to face her. “Do you speak English, girl? My money is fucking gone! No gold, no artifacts, no cars, no signed sports paraphernalia, no nothing! They even emptied my 401(k)!”\n\nChloe slowly began to return her revolver to its holster. “Well, shit.”\n\n“’Well shit’ indeed,” the beast replied.\n\nAn awkward silence hung in the air, filling the otherwise painfully empty gap between the two. Chloe briefly checked her cellphone as the dragon rapped its talons against the floor.\n\nThe visitor broke the silence first. “My name is Chloe.”\n\n“My name is Levi.”\n\n“Levi doesn’t sound like a dragon’s name to me.”\n\n“Have you ever asked a dragon for their name?”\n\nChloe thought for a moment, then began to blush in embarrassment. “No, I suppose I haven’t.”\n\nLevi snorted, a small puff of smoke indignantly wafting from his nostrils.\n\n“So, what will you do now?” Chloe inquired.\n\n“Pick up the pieces. Dragons have no legal recourse for recouping damages from your people’s adventures, so I’ll have to just start over.”\n\n“Really? No recourse at all?”\n\n“None whatsoever,” Levi said with a sigh. “That’s what happens when there are no dragons in government. The laws get stacked against you.”\n\nChloe frowned. She had never bothered to speak with the dragons whose lairs she looted before, and she had definitely never bothered to think about what would happen to the dragons afterwards. There had to be something they could do.\n\n“Why don’t we just take it back?”\n\nLevi cocked his head at Chloe. “We?”\n\n“Sure. I know how the adventuring business works, and you’re, well, a dragon. I’m sure between the two of us, we could get your hoard back and then some! A portion of what we get would go to me, of course, but I think that's a fair trade.”\n\nLevi sat back and stroked his chin. His uninvited guest locked eyes with him and extended her hand.\n\n“Deal?” Chloe asked.\n\nA smile crept across Levi’s maw as he reached down and gave her a talon to grasp, completing the handshake.\n\n“Deal.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: It turns out that this life is just a test to weed out the souls capable of becoming gods. After dying, you find yourself being welcomed into the club as a new deity." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ashley awoke on a bed surrounded by lavish pillows, ornate blankets, and... beer cans? Bud light? She took a moment to compose herself and take in her surroundings. Loud music could be heard from beyond the spotlessly white wall, the smell of weed, beer, and a hundred different liquors enveloped her. She was definitely at a party, but... the last thing she remembered was getting hit by a car. One with a giant pink mustache. That fucking Lyft driver. So why was she at a party?\n\nThe door burst open and a large bearded man walked up to her, \"Ashlaaaay! You're awake! Welcome to the fuckin' afterlife! And I must say you're still lookin' fine as ev-\" Ashley cut him off, \"what the fuck is going on? Where am I? Who the fuck are you? Did you drug me!?\"\n\n\"Drug you? No no no no no. That's more uh... Loki's thing. I don't need drugs, I mean, look at me!\" Ashley couldn't argue with that, the man had the body of a god. \"So... who, wait, did you say Loki? Like the Norse god?\" The bearded man scowled at that, \"yeah, the Norse god. Though that lil fucker barely deserves the title.\"\n\nAshley could hardly believe what she was hearing. \"So does that make you...\"\n\n\"Thor. Yup. Nice to finally meet you in person! We've all been watching you for a while.\" Ashley was caught off guard, again. \"What do you mean you've been watching me? Who else is here?\" Thor took her by the hand and began leading her out of the room. \"All the Gods are, and you're the newest to join the club!\"\n\n\"But why me? What did I do?\" Thor chuckled \" You're just one badass chick! High five!\" Ashley weakly reciprocated. \"Shit we need to work on that. Oh well, come meet everybody!\"\n\nThor led her into a large dining hall with vaulted marble ceilings, ornate fountains, and glasses made of gold, out of which two large, visibly drunk men were playing beer pong with. As she stared at the spectacle the man with a flowing white beard landed the ball in his opponents last cup. \"Yeah! Fuck your shit Buddha! Get the fuck out of here with your weak ass game!\"\n\nThe fat Asian man took the barrage of insults as he chugged from the golden goblet. \"Shut the fuck up Yahweh. You keep thinking you're hot shit but one day I'm gonna bend you over and fuck you real good!\"\n\n\"What uh... What just happened? Thor looked down at her \"That? Ah just Buddha getting his ass handed to him again by Yahweh. Dude's a fuckin' beast at beer pong. That's how you win converts back on Earth. One God beats another at beer pong and the winner wins some converts\"\n\nYahweh approached the two of them while mixing some smoking drink. \"Sup Thor, who's this babe?\"\n\n\"It's Ashley. Yahweh you know her. Just last week you were jerki-.\" Yahweh hastily interrupted him, \"Thor shut the fuck up. Ashley! Nice to finally fuckin' meet you!\"\n\nAshley shook his hand and stammered \"I... You're God? Like... the Jesus god?\" Yahweh threw his drink in disgust, \"Don't bring that little shit up to me. Fucking hippie still hasn't gotten a job. At this point I'd rather have our gardener as my son. And before you ask, yes, his name is Jesus too. Gotta love those Mexicans. But yes, I am that god\"\n\nAshley began shaking, she was a lifelong Christian and here she was meeting her god. He may curse and drink like a sailor but apparently all gods did. \"Oh wow I can't believe I'm finally meeting you! I was a lifelong believer!\"\n\nYahweh waved his hand and interrupted her \"Yeah, it was really hot too. But enough of that. Before we take the effort of introducing you to everyone else we have a test for you. If you're going to join our club you need to start a religion and win some converts. And you need to beat another god in a game of beer pong to do that.\"\n\nAshley knew she was pretty good at beer pong, but could she beat a god? especially her god? \"I uh... I don't know if I could beat you at beer pong.\" Yahweh began laughing uncontrollably, bits of chicken wing flying out of his mouth. \"Of course you can't fucking beat me! I've got someone else for you to play. Some asshole We've been trying to kick out for awhile now. Kim! Kim get the fuck over here! I've got someone for you to play.\"\n\nA stout Asian man with a pompadour finished taking a bong hit and heaved himself off of the couch. Yahweh gestured towards him \"Ashley, meet Kim Jong-il. You gotta beat this asshole if you wanna stay.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Two large files on the table in front of you. The old lady across the table tells you the larger one is \"The Story of the Universe: All Your Questions Answered\". The smaller one is \"The Story of You\". \"Choose one\", she says. You pick \"The Story of You\". \"The greatest mystery of all\", you say." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“The greatest mystery of all”, I mused to myself, pulling the dull manila folder towards me. The fluorescent bulbs above hummed quietly as I pondered the odd situation I found myself in. The white walls of the brightly lit room glared at me, taunting me to make a decision so the light would once again turn off and they’d return to a peaceful slumber.\n\nThen there was the woman. Wrinkles strewn across her face like an old oak tree with a grudge. She had crows feet, but I imagine they were from disapproved looks instead of laughter. Not what I expected when I answered the news paper ad, but I don’t know what I expected in the first place.\n\n“Help wanted: Investigative Journalist - No prior experience needed, just a life well lived.” In between ads for salesmen and interns, the headline stuck out. I’ve never been good with prose, but my curiosity got the best of me. Growing up in orphanages, bouncing from halfway house to halfway house, I’ve definitely done a lot of living, albeit likely not well.\n\n“Well?” The woman asked, looking down their nose at me, “is that your choice?”\n\nMy thoughts returned to the folders in front of me. The stories of the universe were tempting, even knowing they couldn’t possibly be contained in a single folder. But my story? There’s so much I wish I knew, about my parents, about why it always seemed like what I wanted was just out of reach. Every turn, some roadblock would stop me in my tracks, setting me back two steps for every one I took.\n\nThe universe didn’t care about me, why should I care about it? No one ever cared about my story, so at the very least I should. I took the folder, began to open it and gave the woman an affirming nod. I reached in, my hand feeling a single piece of paper resting inside. Pulling it out, I looked down at what story my life might’ve told so far.\n\nAnd there was nothing. A blank white sheet, mocking me just as the walls did before. I looked up at the women, her expression yet unchanged.\n\n“Is this some kind of joke?” I asked, searching her face for some kind of hint to the nature of this game. The corners of her mouth turned upward into a smile, forcing her wrinkles into a position they seemed to have almost forgotten.\n\n“This is no joke. It was a choice, and you made the correct one. To understand the universe, we first must understand ourselves. If we don’t know the mysteries under our own skin, how can we understand the questions lurking beyond the stars?”\n\n“Beyond the stars?” I scoffed, “I hardly passed my science courses in school, and I’ve never been good at solving riddles. I’m here for a job, nothing more.”\n\nShe leaned forward, her arms pressing against the table as she leaned closer to my face. “There are mysteries all around that most are too blind to see, ignorant to the oddities that are often right under their noses. You say you’re only here for a job, but why answer that ad? No speak of pay, employer name, or even a real description. You’re curious, you ask questions, even if you know there likely isn’t a proper answer.”\n\nI pause, considering her words for a moment. Why did I answer that ad? Thinking back, it should’ve been a huge red flag. A lack of information, and it’s not like anything I’ve done before. But I knew, I had a feeling that it was the right decision. And more so, I needed to know if I was qualified, if my life so far was “well lived”.\n\n“So say you offer me this job and I accept, what comes next?” I ask.\n\n“Well, as an investigative journalist, you should have no problem filling that” she said, pointing at the blank sheet in front of me. “You’re curious about the world around you, but you need to start by asking questions about your self.”\n\n“And what then?” I asked.\n\n“Then we fill the other folder”, she said, a smile once again coming to her face." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You wear that #1 Dad shirt, you better be prepared to defend that title. Dads all over are running into each other with these shirts on, its chaos. Their weapon of choice: Dad Jokes" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Disclaimer - This is the first thing I have written on a new keyboard so spelling mistakes, typos etc may have not been fixed. Not that I can spell anyway. Enjoy\n\nMark placed the milk on the counter, ‘mmm cow juice’ he winked at little Marie as she facepalmed. Even at 7 she was growing tired of the fat, ginger mans humour. It was only a few months ago she and her Mother had picked out that ‘number 1 dad’ t-shirt for his birthday and the level of jokes were getting increasingly bad.\n\n‘That’s a dollar please.’ The cashier held out his hand.\n\n‘Here that Marie, I need your barbie, he said it’s a doll hair.’ Marks lips peaked as he spoke, another genius line he thought to himself. He reached for his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans and as he did so his number 1 dad shirt became visible to Jack, a taller, lankier man stood opposite. A look of surprise shot across the other man’s face.\n\n‘N.. nu.. Number one dad?’ He questioned Mark. ‘But it can’t be.’ Unzipping his jacket revealed the the same red and green shirt Mark was, squeezed into. The cashier took a step back. This was not the first time he’d seen two dads meet in such a scenario. A red button behind the counter was pressed, a click and whirr later, earbuds dropped from the ceiling. Not unlike the breathing masks when a cabin depressurises aboard an aircraft.\n\nThe PA system burst into action ‘Please fit the earbuds of young children and elderly relatives first. This is not a drill. Level 3 dad-off about to commence. Those extremely sensitive to cheese, mind bending puns and extreme nuttiness should leave the premises immediately.’ The two men squared off as the warning echoed around the store. Mothers and children ran for safety not stopping to pick up purses and bags which now littered the supermarket. Management knelt with palms pressed together, praying for a quick and clean outcome to this matter. Sometimes these face offs could last for hours and nobody was hoping for that, least of all the dads themselves. They had lawns to mow and fish to feed but the matter of best dad was now number one priority.\n\n‘3, Marie, Mike and Millie.’ Mark began, holding photos out in front of him.\n\nJack retorted. ‘Hm, I see you have gone for the M naming scheme, a valliant choice but not one that will save you here.’\n\n‘So what about you?’ Mark pointed\n\n‘2, Jack Jr and Pablo. ‘That means it’s you to go first Gimli.’\n\n‘Eggscellent.’ Mark smiled, dropping a medium brown egg at the feet of his rival.\n\n‘Strong start, but i’ll finish it quickly. Why is milk the fastest liquid on earth?’ Mark took a step back as much to shield himself from the answer as Jack delivered the blow ‘because it’s pasteurised before you see it.’ Mark was shaken but the true casualty was a young shelf stacker who dropped to his knees after not heeding the previous warnings.\n\nMark took a deep breath and steadied himself. ‘Why can’t bicycles start on their own? Because they are two-tired.’ Jack wasn’t ready for this one and crumbled onto the floor. Mark towered over him ready to deliver the final blow as Jack tried to get back to his feet. ‘Why didn’t the dwarf steal from the butchers?’\n\nJacks mouth was dry and throat closing. ‘I don’t know.’ A tear rolled down his cheek.\n\n‘Because the steaks were too high.’ Marks eyes grew red and nostrils flared as he delivered the final line.\n\nSilence. It was over. The emergency services had entered the building clad in heavy duty noise cancelling headphones and with Werther’s originals and Peardrops ready to be deployed. The two duellists were led away through the front of the store and the number 1 faded from Jack’s shirt. It now just read ‘Dad’.\n\nAn older man looked at the destruction around him and shrugged.\n\n‘Ah, the steak pun, a rare medium, well done’" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 1200-1300 words. Prompt: As the last of her shambling minions crumbled to dust, the paladin’s gauntleted fist loosened its grip on her neck. The necromancer gurgled out a mocking laugh despite his grasp. “You say you hate the undead,” she murmured, “but you will never despise them as I do.”" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sir Garrett narrowed his eyes.\n\n\"What could a foul demon like you know of my righteous rage?\"\n\nGarrett gripped his fist as hard as he could, his veins burning as he pushed his holy mana into his quarry. The foul one screamed as a bright light filled the room.\n\nAnd then all went black.\n\nGarrett groaned as his body awoke. Every muscle in his body ached, even opening his eyes sent daggers of pain through his nerves. His head felt like a spike was being driven into it as he concentrated his mana, preparing the holy meditation he used to restore himself on his worst days.\n\nHe surged his mana through his body, and then gasped in shock. Instead of the warmth of holy mana, his veins froze as if he had plunged into an icy lake in the dead of winter. He felt a chill run down his spine, as if a terrible reaper were standing over him. His heart beat faster and he began to sweat, a deep and primal terror gripping him.\n\nSomething was truly wrong.\n\nBut Garrett was not the Champion of the Blazing Star for naught. He drove the pain and the fear from his mind with not but sheer will. He bit his own cheek, focusing on the pain, and then opened his eyes.\n\n\"YEESSSSSSSS!!!!! IT ACTUALLY WORKED!!! IT ACTUALLY FREAKING WORKED!!!!\"\n\nGarret winced as the piercing shrieks stabbed into his brain, which only increased his confusion at the scene in front of him. There was a woman, most familiar, and yet one he had never seen before. She had golden hair that almost seemed to glow before him. Healthy, sun-touched skin as one who had spent all their time in the warmth of the sun. Yellow eyes that reminded him of sunflowers. Pure white robes that almost seemed holy. A bright, cheerful, and innocent woman jumping for joy. And yet, when Garret focused on the shape of her face...\n\nThere stood Zreivana, the Dark Lady, the Bane of Sunneoria, Defiler of the Sanctum, the Mistress of the Pale Horde.\n\n\"..what..?\"\n\nZreivana looked at Garrett after his hoarse whisper and the smile on her face grew ever larger.\n\n\"Oh don't look so surprised. Every half-decent necromancer has a plan for their own death you know?\"\n\nGarrett grimaced. The demon was right, rule number 1 of fighting a necromancer is never assume that they're dead just because you killed them. Garrett pulled up what mana he could...\n\n\"Whoops careful there, don't want to defile this holy place you know?\"\n\nZreivana cast a spell and Garrett felt his mana disperse, his arms and legs bound and pulled apart and every nerve in his body burning as if on fire. But that was not what surprised Garrett.\n\n\"You...how did you cast holy magic?!\"\n\nZreivana smirked.\n\n\"Easy! We swapped elements!\"\n\nGarrett stared at her.\n\n\"Oh, what, you thought you had some great holy power, blessed by the gods? Well, I guess that's technically true for a paladin and all but for the most part you just had a light attribute talent you know? And I was born with a death attribute one. So I cast a curse on myself, whosoever kills me shall inherit my power. But the curse can't just shove all that power into you, you'd explode. So I did you a favor and drained your power first! You can thank me now.\"\n\nGarrett eyes grew wide, and then narrowed. A foul lie from a fouler being. Garrett closed his eyes and focused on communing with his patron. Clearly this was a mere trick, and while the demon could deceive his mortal mana, the power of the Goddess would wash her away like the sand before the ocean.\n\nA few minutes later Garrett gasped for breath, sweating pouring down his brow.\n\n\"Ah I take it you met Krod, Lord of Terror and all? Ione doesn't really like foul necromancers you know? But Krod answers whoever asks, even his enemies.\"\n\nGarrett simply stared blankly, his mind trying desperately to reject the reality before him. But his discipline and honed will turned against him, his mind refusing to surrender to weakness or despair. He was trapped in limbo, unable to accept what had happened, but unable to find solace in blessed madness. Finally, he did the only thing he could, and managed to eek out a single word.\n\n\"Why?\"\n\nZreivana's smile turned vicious. She walked towards Garrett, until they were but a hand apart. She reached out and grabbed his chin, pulling his face until he was staring directly into her eyes.\n\n\"I already told you, my dear knight. You think you hate the undead, but you will never despise them like I do.\"\n\nZreivana let him go and took a step back. She closed her eyes and waved her hand about.\n\n\"Oh everyone thinks 'wow so much power' and 'oooohhhh you can command the dead!' and 'hordes of loyal servants that obey without question.' But really, obeying without question is the worst thing ever. Do you know how many minions I've spent hours raising only to watch them walk off a cliff because I said advance and they didn't have the brains to question when they should stop? One time I lost an entire division because they were ordered to attack a fortress and so completely ignored a tribe of wood elves shooting them at leisure. Once I told them to dust the drapes and and five hours later I find them lobbing dust onto the drapes! I've had to nitpick every. single. damn. word I say around those imbeciles. And do you know just how much freaking work it takes to raise even a single minion? And the smell. Oh god the smell. I burned out my own nostrils after a single year. This is the first time I've smelt since then and oh god it has not gotten any better.\"\n\nZreivana took a deep breath.\n\n\"I'm sorry, I'm monologue-ing but you're the first person I've talked to in, well, I don't remember how long. But well, none of that matters.\"\n\nZreivana stepped back in front of Garrett, gripping his cheeks.\n\n\"The real reason I despise the dead is the same reason I defiled that oh so precious Sanctum. Because they stole everything from me. Because I had to watch my parents tortured, quartered, and then burned at the stake because innocent little Vana thought she healed her pet dog and they took the blame. Because the townsfolk told me how 'grateful' I should be as I watched my parents burned. Because the oh so merciful priests at the Sanctum whipped me every day to purify the taint of such foul progenitors. And when I prayed every day to Holy Ione, the only answer I received was to 'purge the taint.' And each and every day I tried, to burn away this curse and atone. Until another answered, and showed me the way. You've no idea what I've sacrificed, how far I've gone. You have merely fought the undead. I have sacrificed everything to destroy them, once and for all.\"\n\nZreivana released Garrett, blood dripping down his cheek from the marks left by her fingernails. Zreivana turned and walked down the hall. At the entrance she stopped, light growing around her form.\n\n\"Rejoice, noble paladin. Now that I have purified myself, I will complete your mission and burn every last trace of death from this world. From the tainted graves that twist infants in the womb, to those vile monsters performing death rituals in the holiest cathedrals while they burn peasants at the stake. So says the true blade of Ione!\"\n\nNo one answered but a pile of ash." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You're an immortal who can only regenerate your youth by sacrificing yourself for another person. Because of this, you put people in precarious situations to save them and retain your immortality." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“This is not as easy as it used to be…” You quietly grumble as you squeeze yourself into your flight suit, a gauche neon blue and yellow relic from the 80’s. You have to suck your gut in to get the zipper up and it seems that every inch of yourself you managed to stuff inside it if fighting to burst forth, like a raging river barely contained by a dam. But you’re not talking about stuffing your aging body into an outdated suit, across the hanger you see Tyler goofing around with his friends as he’s helped into his own flight suit by another dive instructor. Today as he jumps out of a plane at 15, 000 feet he’s going to experience his worst nightmare, both of his parachutes will fail catastrophically, you know this because you packed them yourself, and made sure that they both will do exactly that. Despite this you also know Tyler will walk away from this jump.\n\n“This is really not as easy as it used to be…” You think to yourself again, over the droning of the airplanes ascent, everything was simpler when everyone wanted to kill everyone all the time. Sign up for the army, take a spear, arrow, sword or axe blow for someone and voila! That easy, someone was always at war with someone else, and you had died in battle countless times over your lifespan, in Greece, Britain, Mongolia, Mexico, you name the country, and it probably held the corpse of at least one of your mortal bodies. However as civilization advanced, and weapons got faster and more complicated it became increasingly difficult to get between someone and something that would kill them, in fact you hadn’t been able to do it since jumping of a grenade in 1943 to save your comrades in Germany. Not for lack of trying though, you done tours in Vietnam, Afghanistan, and Iraq and managed to come out without a scratch despite friends dying around you. Luckily, as death-centric occupations were on the decline people became bored and thought of new way to try and kill themselves, without actually succeeding, right up your alley.\n\n“This is actually becoming quite complicated…” Your final thoughts before launching yourself out of the plane to your death. Before this you double-checked to make sure that Tyler’s backpack still has the special carabiner where you plan to attach your backpack after his chutes fail, as well as ensuring that your own backpack is easy to clip and take off, and easy to attach. You watch Tyler struggle to pull his cord, the guide chute releases, and within seconds the main sail deploys, only to fly past you as it rips itself out of the backpack. “Check one” you whisper to yourself as you watch Tyler panic for half a second when he realizes where his chute went, before he attempts to pull the backup cord. The second chute deploys, and for a second everything looks proper, before a devastating tangle sends Tyler into an uncontrollable spiral. “That’s my cue!” You fold in your arms and dive down to where Tyler is frantically pulling of the lines in a desperate attempt to untangle them, in a swift motion you pull out the sharp diver’s knife strapped across your chest and cut the lines connecting Tyler to his back up parachute. As the chute fly’s away you maneuver yourself into a position above Tyler and connect the back of his pack to yours via the carabiners you carefully installed yesterday. Satisfied that Tyler is secure, you undo your chest buckle slip out of your pack, and pull the cord. With a gigantic “Whoosh” Tyler is yanked away from you and upwards as you continue your descent completely free of any life saving apparati.\n\n“Ahhhhhh, the easy part.” As you watch Tyler and your bright parachute drift ever farther away you take some time to enjoy the sensation of falling. It was always one of your favourite ways to die, often painless, it beat the hell out of the festering gangrene when you misjudged leaping in front of a spear missing your vital organs and dying days later. As the ground rushes up to meet you, you let out a fierce scream, not a scream of fear, but of anticipation, for tonight you feast with the Gods of Mount Olympus, and in the morning, you’ll walk down its slopes a new man, a younger man free to once again face the world, and once again, die for someone else." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: As human technology advances practical interstellar travel eludes us. We are confined to the solar system. Against all odds and expectations though, humanity experiences a new golden age of unrivaled extend colonizing the solar system." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jules stared at her control panel. The numbers weren't changing, at least not the number that counted in that moment. The ship was completely still, all her senses told her that. But it was moving, relative to her destination. Moving fast. Moving so fast that if she didn't slow...\n\nThere was no danger of hitting anything. One of the many rules hammered into the space between her ears during piloting school was never aim straight at a space rock, just in case something like...this happened. But even if she had gone for the bullseye, she had been too far away for any kind of accuracy.\n\nNo, her problem was that she was going to miss it. Miss the rock that she wanted so badly to land on, to explore, and to, well, name. Because whoever touched a space rock first, got to name it. That was the rule.\n\nBut Jules needed thrust, and her craft was not cooperating. She could call someone, yes, maybe Naomi, Grace, even Chuck. But after they heard what she was doing, they would first check out the rock, then pick her up. It was too tempting to pass up, she knew that. She would do the same in their shoes.\n\nShe had less than a minute. \"Raahhhhhhhhh!!!\" The yelling was no more helpful than her duet of fists punching the console.\n\nThe closing speed was extreme, but as she approached the object, time slowed. Jules focused on the rock's surface, examining every detail, memorizing every formation. Her mind wandered...would this be the last time she saw this rock? Would she, in a continuation of her bad luck, continue this trajectory into oblivion, never to be seen again?\n\nSomething wasn't right. With excruciating slowness, her mind started to assemble the puzzle of facts before her. A glance at her panel confirmed what her subconscious was yelling at her.\n\nTime had not slowed. The rock had...sped up.\n\nJules determined that as she had approached the rock, it had increased speed to match hers, rotated, and started moving toward her ship, making it seem that nothing was amiss except for the passage of time. But now she needed to do something. Something! This wasn't anything like she expected, and she fought a panic response as she sorted through the situation and her options.\n\nIt was maybe 200 meters away, now, and angled to starboard. She made for her comms to call someone, anyone at all, but dropped the device. With fear and fascination, she watched as giant arms emerged from the rock's surface, unfolded themselves with impossible quickness and grace, and surrounded her craft on two sides.\n\nShe expected violent sounds as her ship was crushed and ripped apart, but the sole evidence that the limbs had made contact was a subtle but firm acceleration against her harness. She was slowing down! No, she was being slowed down...by the rock!\n\nBefore she could fully enjoy this realization, the ship's lights dimmed and then went black. This was not good. No power meant no life support. To her relief, the backup power brought the lights back on a moment later. In the shine of the lights, however, was something new, that hadn't been there prior the the power outage.\n\nNot ten meters away was a figure. It looked roughly twice the size of a human, but with odd proportions. Although no features could be discerned under what appeared to be a helmet, it was unmistakably looking at Jules. And moving closer.\n\nJules stopped breathing. This really was the end. She had found the rock, she had connected with the rock. She had made some sort of...contact. But she would not survive to relive this memory, or what came after.\n\nHer attention shifted to the panel as it lit up. But the familiar retro typeface and multicolored diagrams were missing. In their place were two words:\n\nYOU. HELP." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: The governments in the Pokemon universe have run amok as officers begin to use their Arcanine as tools of brutality instead of peace keeping. As time goes on, citizens become uneasy with the prospect of the police state taking over." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rain. It's all we wished for in Cerulean City. When the rain came the water Pokemon could stand a chance against them. Against the police.\n\nI was only 3 years old when it began. The government decided they would declared the towns of Kanto Police property. They intended to keep control by any means necessary.\n\nI remembered when they would march door to door and demand that every man and woman of age, register for the police force.\n\nWhen they reached our house my father could smell the cinder and hear the low pitched growl of their Arcanine. He told my mother to get me and leave. I was only 5 at the time, but I told her I wouldn't leave my father's side. She forced me out the back door before I could fight. I could feel the cool rain hit my face. I smiled knowing how strong my father and his Kingler were.\n\nI knew he would win. I knew that he would find us, but some battles aren't win or loose. Some battles are stacked against you. We saw the flames from the hill.\n\nMy father died a hero.\n\nMother and I escaped to Route 4, but we didn't make it far. We could hear the police chasing us.\n\nCriminals.\n\nThey were hot on our trail, and we knew we could never outrun them. My mother looked me in the eyes and told me \"Never hold back. Be the greatest.\" She shoved me into a dark cave as the police approached. I was free, but she was gone.\n\nAs I crawled through the darkness I could hear the Zubat flying just above my head. Their screeching sounds made me weak, and dizzy. In my haze I felt the grip of an Ekans tightening around me, I knew I would soon be it's dinner, but just before I lost hope I was saved. A Nidorino sprinted out of the darkness and saved me. It carried me out of the cave and lead me to safety. Viridian City. A new home. The Pokemon center took me in, but Nidorino never left my side. The worst day of my life was over. Orphaned; terrified, but not alone.\n\nYears past and Nidorino and I swore to avenge my parents and save the world form the police. We would stop the devastation that had reigned across the land. We trained as hard as we could to become strong enough to make a difference. We made friends, we built a life in Viridian and we found love.\n\nKia was beautiful, and my Nidoking felt the same of her Nidoqueen. We married young and I found work in town. Under a new name, as i was still a fugitive. Kia knew of my past, she helped me train and even helped us unite the town into a Pokemon organization protect our people, to love of pokemon and denounce the evil police force.\n\nWord spread quickly and we were soon facing the threat of a police assault. Our Pokemon were ready, our team was strong, but our losses were unspeakable. What they did to that town was disgusting. We were peaceful.\n\nThey attacked us. They killed my Kia, they killed our unborn child. They had taken everything.\n\nI hid. I ran. I escaped.\n\nI went all over Kanto and found the strongest trainers in every town. We had to do something. We decided to build ourselves up again. But this time in secret. Fight the police from underground. Out of the public eye.\n\nI came out of the shadows a stronger man. A better man. I had lost enough. Now it is time we won. I went home. To Viridian. We established ourselves and set out to unite Kanto. This nation would be strong again. We would save everyone. By any means necessary.\n\nI remember what my mother said when I was a baby \"You will be the very best. My son. My Giovanni.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: Not exactly in the holiday spirit, but ... A serial killer has his fourth victim bound in his torture chamber. But this \"victim\" is ... different" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sidenote: Apologies for minor errors, as I am at work and am intterupted frequently. Hope you enjoy!\n\nLane laughed as he prepared his tools, laying them meticulously in order from papercut to gash. The fresh meat he had just poached sit in the bolted steel chair, his hands cuffed to the chilling metal. He moved his instruments towards the victim, the rolling plastic wheels grinding eerily across the concrete as he pranced. He was going to enjoy this one. The man soo resembled the fish that got away that summer. Of course it was his first try at his craft and he was an amatuer then. But that was then, and this is now.\n\n\"No need for this anymore, we're quite private now.\" Lane exclaimed as he tore the tape from the man's mouth. There was something strange about it, the victim had not made a sound after the tape pulled off. No matter now, the business side of it was over, now was the fun.\n\n\"What's your name, rat?\"\n\nA look of confusion, panic, and sounds of stuttering syllables was all he got as a reply. All Lane could do was laugh. What a superbly frightened, ignorant welp he had abducted. \"Well, that is a bit misleading. It doesn't really matter what your name \"is\", rat, what matters is what it used to be.\" Lane continued as he pranced to the tripod that held the camcorder, as if he was moving to some eerily written waltz. He pressed the record button, and moved back to prey, leaning forward and speaking softly, \"You see, I'm going slowly lay open your body and consume your spirit.\"\n\nThe rat flinched at the hot breath, corroding his skin, as he watched Lane move back to the tray of instruments. Lane could make out soft whispers, telling him, no, BEGGING him to reconsider. All he could do was smirk as he selected the scalpel. Holding it up to the light he examined the tinged metal, brown with the memories of his past victims. \"Old Faithful,\" he exclaimed as he turned to face the rat, \"Because she's so good at getting the party started!\"\n\nLane moved next to the rat, relishing the fact that he was now squirming. He moved the scalpel down onto the cheek of the rat, trying to contain his delight as he watched the rat try helplessly to get away from the blade. Pressure now, and the delightful sight of a scarlet avalance flowing down the rat's cheek was enough to make him chortle loudly. He saw the face of his fish that got away and the excitement was too much to contain. He raised his arm and plunged the steel surgical blade deep into the rat's shoulder. Lane was howling now as he grabbed the ginsu-series filet knife off the tray. He turned and instantly plunged the blade into the rat's leg.\n\n\"Now the fun begins, Rat!\" Lane screamed with lust as he turned to his tray of red delights, \"Now, you're gonna scream for me! Beg me to stop, and just when you think it can't get any....\" He paused. What was that? He hadn't noticed it, not until just now. The rat didn't scream, not at the slice he had taken out of his face, nor either stab. Sure, he had been afraid of scalpel, but, no scream. No requests to stop. Everyone screamed after the first cut, they always did. This enfuriated Lane. He pivoted, turning back to the Rat.\n\n\"......Wh.\" It was all that he could muster before the fist slammed into his gut. It crippled him. The sheer force was enough to send shockwaves throughout his whole body. He could feel a hand wrapping around his throat, beckoning him to his feet. He was up now, grasping at the rat's hand, trying to break free. His efforts were met with an ice cold concrete wall. He slammed against it with a massive thud. The blow took the wind out of him for a second. He noticed that the scalpel was still in the rat's shoulder and he desperately tried to drive it further in. The rat grasped his arm and shoved it to the wall, removing the scalpel and slamming it into Lane's hand with such force that it drove the blade through Lane's hand and several inches in the wall. He howled with pain, trying to figure out what was happening. He was still busy trying to put two and two together, that he didn't even notice the rat pull the filet knife from his own leg. He repeated the process with the left hand, essentially crucifying Lane. He was angry now, wondering how this rat got the best of him, but he felt something different now, something he had never felt for the majority of his life. Fear filled his brain. He couldn't comprehend it as it washed over him like a high tide on a low beach. He was begging now, as he helplessly watch the rat take his time on him. All of this tools, now being used against him. He begged and bartered, but it fell on the rat's deaf ears. The rat smiled as he dismembered the man, removing everything Lane had to offer. The rat sat down below Lane's mutilated body, in the puddle of gore he had created.\n\nAs he sat there, he pulled a picture from his pocket, of a young family in their prime. He turned the picture over, and read the lines writted in immaculate cursive:\n\n\"We love you, Mason!\"\n\nMason sat there in the gore, remembering what it was like before the red took him over. The strength that he had gained through the trauma, the power's the red had given him. He didn't know where it came from, but he knew how to use it. He picked up Lane's cell phone from the pools of red. He dialed 9-1-1, and threw the phone down. They would come. He looked at his wounds as they began to close. Now came the fun. Now they would take him to the rapists, and murderers, and it would be like taking candy from a baby. He got to his knees, and put his hands behind his head. Waiting for his prize.\n\n\"I'll make 'em all pay, Mom.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 900-1000 words. Prompt: You drink a luck potion only to realize that \"luck\" simply means low-probability events of all types are now more common. The flight you are on has just taken off." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I glanced up from my book to notice a very haggard man take the seat next to me. He looked distraught, and I could see a bottle in his hand; probably just drinking away a bad case of nerves. I tried to comfort him.\n\n\"You know, friend, the odds of a plane crashing are a thousand times lower than dying in a car crash.\"\n\n\"You're not helping.\"\n\n\"No, listen. The odds of you dying in a plane crash are 1 in 11 million. You know what the odds of you winning the lottery are? 1 in 14 million. Trust me, I'm a statistician. It's my job to know these kinds of things.\"\n\nThe man starts crying. \"I'm definitely doomed then. Why did I even drink this thing?\"\n\nHe presented the bottle to me. \"Luck Potion\", it read. In small text underneath: \"Increases the likelihood of ALL low probability events...\"\n\nI sighed. \"Look, Mr.....\"\n\n\"Kruger\"\n\n\"Mr. Kruger, first, there's no such thing as a luck potion. Changing the laws of probability and the distributions of random events is going to take more than some ordinary human ingesting some chemicals.\"\n\n\"But, even supposing this potion actually works as it says on the label, a priori, we can't even begin to guess what it will do. Without a quantifiable threshold on 'low' probability, nor an adequate understanding of how much it 'increases' the likelihood of those events, we can't make any assumptions about what will happen.\"\n\nThe man shifted uncomfortably in his seat. I recognized that look: it wasn't nervousness about his situation, but the classic reaction of a person who never truly learned or understood mathematics. I was going to have to be a little simpler.\n\n\"Alright, how about this? Can you even tell me what an event is?\"\n\n\"Well, it's a thing that happens, I guess...\"\n\n\"Now look, you don't even know what an event is, how can you even be worried about low-probability events when you have no understanding of what they are?\" I sighed, putting emphasis on my breath to make him understand just how wrong what he said was. \"An event is a set of outcomes, i.e. a classification of possible end states. Put simply, an event can be thought of as a description, with the likelihood corresponding to how many outcomes match that description.\"\n\n\"Now, there are an infinite number of events, since I can come up with an infinite number of descriptions. And, according to the theory of quantum mechanics and fundamental uncertainty, all of these events have a non-zero probability. For example, it's possible that a flamingo will spontaneously materialize, feathers and all, in the middle of this cabin. The subatomic particles that make up that peacock could just materialize out of nothingness. The probability of that, however, is astronomically low; it's far more likely that you would win the lottery a million times in a row using the same 6 numbers.\"\n\nMr. Kruger looked involuntarily over his shoulder, no doubt expecting a salmon colored bird to appear.\n\n\"And that's not even the half of it. There's nothing special about us that distinguishes us from the air in the middle of the cabin. Why, we could all suddenly have flamingos sprouting from our chests! Just a 'low-probability' event.\"\n\nThe man looked horrified. Hmmm, maybe shoud've used some softer imagery.\n\n\"But to be more philosophical about it, we should be really more concerned about causality.\"\n\n\"Causality? What's that?\"\n\n\"Well, you know how one thing can lead to another, right? The stewardess comes up, you ask for some peanuts, and she hands you a pack of them, and now you have a pack of peanuts.\"\n\n\"Mhmmm\"\n\n\"Well, quantum theory says that that's no longer a guarantee. There's some probability that, one second ago, the entire universe materialized with you and me and the plane, and with a pack of peanuts in front of you. Simply put, we can't know anything about the past for sure, because there's a low probability that up until a second ago, we didn't even exist.\"\n\n\"But you see, none of that has happened! Look around! There's no crash, no birds, no mysteriously appearing peanuts, none of these 'low-probability' events that your potion claims to make more likely! There's nothing to worry about. Even if the potion worked, with quantum theory being the way it is, there's no telling what it would do, if it would be bad or good or even transcend those notions entirely.\"\n\nI heard a loud snore and looked over. The man had fallen straight to sleep. Well, that's one way of easing his nerves, I suppose.\n\nThe bottle slipped out of his fingers and tumbled to the floor. I picked it up and examined the label again.\n\n\"Increases the likelihood of ALL low probability events...\" Wait, were those ellipses words? I looked closer, squinting in the poor overhead lights. In tiny, almost impossible to read text, it said \"while asleep\"\n\nSuddenly, I heard a loud snap of displaced air as a flamingo appeared in the middle of the cabin, followed by screams of pain. Packs of peanuts began piling around my feet as all kinds of waterfowl began to take the place of my fellow passengers vital organs. The plane began to take a nosedive, followed by a sharp swerve as the laws of gravity seemed to unfurl themselves. Out the window, I could see stars, stars in an unfamiliar configuration that suggested that wherever we were, it certainly wasn't our galaxy. The world began to fade to black, and all I could hear was an unearthly shrieking that almost sounded like words. \"Sir, sir, sir....\"\n\n\"Sir?\"\n\nI woke up, pushing myself off the probability book I had been using as a pillow.\n\n\"Sir, did you want some peanuts?\"\n\nAccepting a pack from the stewardess, I looked over to see that the seat next to me was unoccupied, except for a small empty bottle." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Expecting to be killed when a human regiment rolls through his camp, a goblin is surprised to be reluctantly told that through several loop-holes, he is the next heir to the throne." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bone Chop heard the clank of their armor long before he saw them. An entire column of knights, followed by pikeman, archers, and men-at-arms had marched straight into his village. This was unusual, he thought, and if I'm being honest kind of overkill. the unusual part wasn't the soldiers themselves showing up, plenty of goblin villages had been razed and its people exterminated it was the fact that they hadn't started killing anyone yet.\n\n\"Where is Bone Chop?\" Called the seven foot steel monster at the head of the column.\n\nHis blood ran cold. He never should have snuck into the village to steal those porkchops. Well, this was it. He was standing in the doorway to his humble hut and every visible finger in the village was pointing right to him. He turned to go back inside, but two larger goblins had moved in behind him to bar his way. He turned back to see the massive man marching towards him. He flinched and closed his eyes, awaiting an sword blow that would never come. Instead, the knight dropped to one knee with an earth-shattering clatter.\n\n\"Your majesty, I swear by my life and lands I am yours. Command me.\"\n\nSlowly Bone Chop unclenched and opened his eyes.\n\n\"Wh- what?\" he asked in his squeaky rasp.\n\n\"Scribe!\" Called the giant knight. A mousy, gray-haired and no-nonsense looking man came forward holding a pile of legal documents.\n\n\"Yes well, let's see if I can summarize this in a way you can understand. The former king had three sons, all of whom were killed in the war with the desert tribes in the far east. He himself was ambushed and killed on the way to the signing of the peace treaty and the queen jumped from the highest tower of the castle after learning of his fate.\" The scribe took a deep breath. \"The king had a brother who, sadly, choked to death on some pudding at the funeral reception, he never married but we did track down his bastard daughter in a remote farming village. Unfortunately when we showed up she thought we were coming to arrest her for stealing horses and she attempted to escape into the woods and was decapitated by a low hanging branch. the king also had a younger sister who had a heart attack and died laughing as we explained all this to her. The only remaining royal relative is the king's uncle who has been confined to an insane asylum due to some... indiscretions during his youth that left us questioning his ability to rule. One of those indiscretions happened to be your mother, which brings us to you. Technically, you are the closest living relative to his dearly departed highness, we've kept tabs on you all these years and truthfully that is the only reason this village is still standing. Especially after that nasty business with the pork chops last month, what were you thinking?\" Bone Chop looked ashamed, but motioned for the scribe to go on. \"We have no choice but to offer you the crown.\"\n\nBone Chop was confused. He was highly intelligent, for a goblin, but this was still a difficult story to follow.\n\n\"Sooo... I'm the king?\" He asked pointing to himself.\n\n\"It appears that way, yes.\" Replied the scribe.\n\nBone Chop looked around incredulously, unable to believe his luck.\n\n\"Then bring me pork chops.\" He demanded imperiously, \"All the pork chops.\"\n\nAnd so it was that King Bone Chop, First of His Name, Lord of All Lands and Kingdoms in the North, Protector of the Faith, and Patron of the Barbecue Arts contracted trichinosis and met his untimely demise." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: There is a town that doesn't appear on any map." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There is a town that lies unmarked on map,\n\nWhen ink is set to paper, it will not run nor draw,\n\nNor even scratch a marking on the sheet,\n\nThe town will not reveal itself so easily,\n\nIt guards its secrets warily.\n\n\n\nThere is a town that's lined with empty streets,\n\nNot even mouse or flea will roam its stone, for\n\nThe soul is unsettled by the town's great wrong.\n\nNo visitor is welcome, for no eyes,\n\nShould see its shame of broken years.\n\n\n\nFor once the town was throbbing with young life,\n\nTil' Hrungvar came with blackness in his wake.\n\nHe caught the people's joy in hands of fire.\n\nA more-than-spell he wove,\n\nA way to capture all their love.\n\n\n\nThe spirit-dark rang mighty with his chants,\n\nHrungvar strove with dark intent and strength.\n\nThe words he uttered bent in iron-shaped.\n\nAnd buried all the hope of men,\n\nThat dwelled in the doomed village's reign.\n\n\n\nThe people came and pleaded at his feet,\n\nKissed robes of flame in hope of bleak mercy.\n\nWith greyness of their sky infected hearts,\n\nThey begged Hrungvar, \"Save our lives,\n\nFrom dark touch of your pestilence.\"\n\n\n\nHrungvar smiled. Stood tall and chill.\n\n\"For that there is a price that one must pay,\n\nTo ride with me as servant-thing and stay,\n\nWith me in fire and dark and fear,\n\nWith me until the sun forgets its years.\"\n\n\n\nThe people shrank, for death itself, in pain,\n\nIs better than transmuted life and slavishness.\n\nServe Hrungvar beyond the reach of time-\n\nA man would wear a soul of mist,\n\nBefore this dark gift.\n\n\n\nThe silence whipped like water in a frenzy,\n\nHrungvar's smile of night became a laugh,\n\nThe people fearsome of his eyes, but not emboldened.\n\nNo happiness for lives that could not give,\n\nNo happiness for lives afraid of life.\n\n\n\nThen one young voice rang out,\n\n\"I'll be with you through days and months and years,\n\nAnd what's beyond years after that.\"\n\nA child spoke innocently,\n\nShowing the sterling of his quality.\n\n\n\n\"We must not be a town of stone.\n\nVoices must speak with joy again.\n\nAnd even Hrungvar's dark deserves a friendly hand.\"\n\nThe crowd protested balefully,\n\nBut Hrungvar took him, not ungratefully.\n\n\n\nThe light returned to pale and broken skies,\n\nAnd pale and broken souls. They spoke,\n\nAnd joy was found in words that came from mouths.\n\nOnce doomed to unfeeling,\n\nSaved by dark's retreating.\n\n\n\nThe child's parents built a grave of stone.\n\nWashed it with their tears each time the sun turned dawn.\n\nNo one would meet the tear-stained gaze,\n\nOf those who had born the brunt,\n\nWho wished there was no joy but just their son.\n\n\n\nEach woman clutched her brood close when they passed,\n\nEach man felt his lips were closed-\n\nNo word could touch the misery they spent.\n\nThough there was joy, it faded quick.\n\nEach tear from the lost parents was a strike.\n\n\n\nPlan-making and a quiet mass of whispers,\n\nSent man and woman gathering the hay,\n\nFlint and steel were kept close and ready to hand.\n\nThey would reclaim the joy they'd lost again,\n\nTake with fire what had been taken from them.\n\n\n\nAnd so one night the parents burned in bed,\n\nTheir doors were barred by those that they called friend,\n\nBefore their home was set alight.\n\nThe people celebrated in the streets,\n\nThey thought they had ended the soul-seek.\n\n\n\nThe next day, streets were left untouched by foot,\n\nBirdsong was sung, but faint, and that was all.\n\nEach building home to nothing but the air.\n\nSo empty even ghosts were gone,\n\nSo empty in every single home.\n\n\n\nThere is a town unmarked on any map,\n\nEven ink will not invoke its rancid memory.\n\nAnd any man who had to pick between the fate of villager,\n\nAnd child who rides with Hrungvar's soul,\n\nIt would not be the villager's he chooses now." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: The nation has been conquered by a dragon. Most expected a reign of tyranny and terror, but the dragon turns out to be a far more competent ruler than any of the previous human ones. Still terrifying, though." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The first few days were terrifying. A dragon. A FUCKING dragon, just showed up and completely laid waste to our military. News reports and found footage alike all showed the same thing. Every branch took their shots at the thing in escalating fashion, and it just sort of took it. Just casually flapping its wings to keep itself in mid-air. I don’t think they ever even knocked it off its balance. Then, after the smoke cleared, like some goddamn Godzilla movie, it looked around and unleashed absolute hellfire on everything around it. It took two days and the loss of something like thirty percent of our military before the president capitulated. The dragon dropped down to the ground and loped over to whatever was left of what was in front of it and introduced itself. Turns out his name is Frank. Frank the fucking dragon. Or at least that’s what we were supposed to call him.\n\nI think a lot of people were disappointed with his name, because the talking heads wouldn’t shut up about it for like a week. He should be named like ‘Blagfor the Strong’ or ‘Vangarious the Mighty’ or something like that. Nobody wanted to admit that Frank had conquered us inside of 48 hours, as if his name made a difference. Turns out Frank was a pretty good leader. The first thing he did was expedite the healthcare of the military and civilian casualties of the Incineration, as people had begun to call it. He explained to us that it was not his intention to come in so hot, as it were, but that the military did not really give him an opportunity to explain himself. Pretty standard abuser lingo, but if I’m honest it wouldn’t surprise me. We’re a shoot fist and ask questions never type of place these days. From there, he directed Congress to fund universal healthcare and a universal basic income, as the military had become largely useless in a matter of days. If Frank couldn’t handle a threat personally, what the hell was anyone else going to do?\n\nFrank was not without his detractors, obviously. Plenty of people were protesting his rule and his decisions. Meekly at first, and from afar, but Frank never really lorded violent reprisal over us. As it turns out, he’s incredibly eloquent and more intelligent than anyone we’ve seen in government in my lifetime, at least. And he seemed to relish the discourse, as far as anyone could tell. He apparently enjoyed trying to convince his opponents, even though he didn’t really have to.\n\nI don't think we ever found much out about him beyond that we were to call him Frank, but at this point who cares. He's like a big scaly bureaucrat who gets things done for the people. He's working on high speed rail lines as we speak. I know that the popular wisdom says that dragons are hoarders, but that hasn't really been our experience. He sleeps outside the White House, for pete's sake. Like a cat or something. He pads around for a few minutes and then plops down for the night. It's a tourist attraction, actually. I know that long term this is probably going to end badly, but for now no one cares or, if they do, they're not saying much of anything. Things are good. Scary good. He even ordered a reboot of the last season of Game of Thrones. So for that alone he'd have my vote, if there were one." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: Humanity is distinguished from the alien species in our galaxy by our ability to reproduce without dying." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The night was stormy enough to begin a pulp crime novel, but I didn't mind, it had been three days since M had left and I welcomed the solidarity. I opened the large hardwood door to the bar that had become my second home these past few days and greeted by the smell of stale cigarette smoke and beer. The television flickered above the tiny window into the kitchen, the world still celebrating contact with the first interstellar species Mankind has ever encountered, the ecstasy to finally know we truly are not alone seemingly mocking the fact that I am.\n\nI gave Bill a nod and he poured what would be my first of many tonight.\n\n\"The fastest way to cure a broken heart is found in a bed, not a bar\" he grunted as he sat the brew before me. Bill was a fount of sage wisdom for the poor and downtrodden, the reason I suffered the nearly flat beer he charged twice what I would consider too much. The CRT television flickered and hung on an image of leaders of the newly established Star Council, a diplomatic organization to promote fraternity between species, until Bill smacked the side of it cursing and blaming his cheap patrons for his lack of a nicer television.\n\nI heard the door open, welcoming the brief respite the cool smell of the rain offered. The stool next to mine slide back, despite there being nine other stool, all offering much more elbow space for the two of us. He ordered a shot of whiskey as I stood and made my way to relieve myself. When I returned I noticed his hands were shaking as he brought a fresh glass to his lips. Bill was smiling watching him, something I hadn't witnessed since I began frequenting the run down bar at the beginning of the end of M and I. Perhaps the news had Bill in a good mood as well, he grabbed an extra stool from the end of the bar and brought it in front of the new comer, nodding as he sat down. This was the other reason I liked Bill: when we came through his door we became his children, while crass and unforgiving, he cared enough to offer his ear and wisdom.\n\n\"What was she like?\" was all Bill offered my new brother. That was all he needed.\n\n\"I never thought I could see one of them as beautiful as she was.\" He responded to which Bill's eyes narrowed. \"She was tall, her dark... skin was the softest I have ever felt. As soon as she walked into the room I knew everything I had previously thought about her kind was wrong..\" He continued speaking, Bill continued to stare. But there was something compelling about this man, at least to me. I could see a deep sadness in his eyes, but he spoke with such fervor, excitement, I had to know more.\n\n\"I showed her around the city, but that wasn't enough. I wanted to show her everything she had never seen before: Paris, the Grand Canyon, I wanted to take her home, to see small town America, those crazy temples in Asia, you know, the ones with the giant roots growing in them.\" It was then that it began to dawn on Bill and I. He was speaking about one of the ambassadors sent by the Krash's, meaning this too was a high ranking political figure, though I could certainly not place him. Living in D.C it wasn't uncommon to run into various politicians after hours, But I could hardly imagine him in a suit, only a month ago he would have been making decisions that could begin, or prevent, the next world war, but here he was in a dirty white tee shirt, athletic shorts, his hair unkempt with residual signs of styling gel. He has shaken hands with men and women from all corners of the world, and now outside of this world entirely, yet here he was drinking the shitty over priced whiskey in Bill's shitty overpriced bar. Through all of my musings he never stopped talking.\n\n\"Of course I could not let on my feelings for her at first, we have a level of professionalism we must uphold, but I was clever. I offered to show our culture. I took her to a beautiful french cafe across the street from the Ford Theater, the flavors delighted her. The few days later we took in an Opera. Everything fascinated her, it was incredible.\"\n\n\"Well what happened?\" I interrupted without thinking. Bill gave me a look, somewhere between disappointment and surprise, before now I had enjoyed being the quiet patron.\n\n\"Right, right.\" The man muttered and took his third shot. \"It was two weeks ago now, I had decided I had to explain my feelings to her, they have worked hard to understand us, and we them, and I learned they experienced romance in a similar way we do, chemically at least. It was Mother's Day, and she wanted to learn what a mother was. Honestly that should have been a sign to me. I explained, lightly, human reproduction, she said it was similar to their own.\n\n\"I don't know why but I kissed her. Thankfully the feeling was mutual and we rushed back to my apartment. Their biology is similar to our own, I worshiped her body. Right before we started, she had this sad look in her eyes, but she told me she was ready. I tell you, she fucked like it was last thing she would ever do....\" The politician teared up a little and paused. \"It turns out it was the last thing she would ever do. She was on top and I said I was close, she kept going and then, as I finished, she fell limp on me. In a minute she was dead.\"\n\nBill laughed as he stood from his stool, straightening his apron and picking up the Politician's shot glasses to wash them in the sink. The door opened again. Instead of rain, my nose was met with a familiar scent. It was the cheap perfume M used on our first date. I turned, and there she was. Soaked and shaking, her face looked worried. She rushed to the bar and sat on the other side of the politician. I turned and laid my money on the bar, Bill gave me a nod, without speaking he knew this was both the angel and demon I had been attempting to exorcise in his bar every night. I quickly put on my coat, popping the collar as if to hide from her. As I opened the door I heard her angelic voice. \"Just my luck. The first extraterrestrial species humanity has ever encountered and I fuck one of them to death.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: You have a form of hyperspermia so severe, that you literally fill up whole buckets with your cum. One day, a female friend of yours accidentally sees one of these buckets. Instead of Being grossed out, she picks it up, and for a solid ten seconds, chugs the entire thing down. “More please,”" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "For Greg, being around Abby was hard. Not because she was unpleasant. She was super nice and a lot of fun. Nor was it because she was dumb. She was actually reasonably intelligent, and so they never had a problem with conversation. No, for Greg, the problem was Abby's looks, and how casual she was with them.\n\n\"Hey Greg, you okay?\" She asked as he squirmed in his seat.\n\n\"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine.\" He said. He could already feel the pressure mounting. He would need some kind of release soon, but with his... condition, that was easier said than done.\n\n\"You sure? You look like something's hurting.\"\n\n\"It's fine, Abby, really.\"\n\nShe shrugged. \"If you say so. Anyway, what do you think of this one?\" She asked, modeling another bikini. \"Do you think they make my boobs look okay?\"\n\nIt was not the bikini that did that. Abby had a figure that would make a Barbie doll jealous. Her huge 38DD chest was just the tip of the iceberg. A tiny 23\" waist, and a voluptuous 38\" hips made her dangerous to look at.\n\n\"Y-yeah, they, uh, they look great.\" Greg said. He could feel his pants tighten.\n\nShe smiled brightly. Her plump red lips seemed to beg his attention away from her figure. That was not an easy thing to do, but she managed it.\n\n\"Thanks.\" She said. \"So, I've got a few more waiting. Hang on, let me go change and I'll show you the next one.\"\n\nShe left the room, giving Greg a few minutes to take care of his problem. He rushed to his closet and found what he was looking for, an empty bucket. He opened his pants and pulled out his problem. He was almost too nervous to relieve himself, but he did. It helped that he was practically ready to burst. He soon finished and put his manhood away.\n\nHe looked down at the now full bucket. He sighed. He would need to get more of those soon, if he was going to keep hanging out with Abby. He began the process of hiding the bucket full of thick white fluid when he heard the door open.\n\n\"Okay, this one's a little spicier.\" Abby said. \"But I'm not sure it's really my color. What do you think?\"\n\nGreg turned in shock to find her there, dressed in a tiny bikini. The top was barely there, and the bottom was practically non existent.\n\n\"Uh...\" He said, dumbfounded. \"I...\"\n\nAbby seemed almost oblivious to his plight. What made it worse was that he could already feel himself filling up.\n\n\"Hey, what's that?\" She asked, looking at his bucket.\n\nA jolt of panic surged through him. What was he going to say? What was he going to do? What could he say to her that would make this not seem bad?\n\n\"Uh, that's...\" He started.\n\nAbby walked over and knelt by the bucket. She picked it up and carefully smelled it.\n\n\"Uh, Abby, that's...\"\n\nThen she began drinking it. Greg recoiled in shock, watching her guzzle his seed. She treated it like it was the best milkshake in the world. When she was finished, she set the bucket down and looked up at him.\n\n\"That was good.\" She said. \"Can I have some more?\"\n\n\"Uh, Abby, do...do you have any idea what that was?\"\n\n\"I have a few ideas.\" She said. Her bright blue eyes flickered down to his crotch. She licked her lips. \"So, can I have some more?\"\n\n\"Uh, I...might have some more lying around.\" He said nervously. \"Hang on, let me get one.\"\n\nShe quickly grabbed his hand. \"No. I want it fresh. From the source.\"\n\n\"Huh? But, I...\"\n\nHer slender fingers began undoing his pants and slid them down. His manhood, already recovered, jumped out at her. Abby grinned and opened her mouth wide. She took his entire length into her throat, not an easy task given his size.\n\nHer tongue wound around his girth and she began moving her head along him. Greg sucked in a deep, sharp breath as he began filling up faster than he ever had.\n\nAbby pumped faster and faster, using her lips and tongue in ways he had never dreamed possible. He groaned and grunted as she eagerly sucked him. It was not long before he could not hold back the flood gates.\n\nHe exploded into her throat, each spurt discharging a full gallon into her. She drank every bit she could, slurping it all up, even as it dribbled out and down her chin. Even once he was done, she wiped up every drop she had not already taken in, and licked it off her fingers.\n\n\"Mmm, that was so good.\" She cooed. Greg stood there, weak in the knees and gasping for air. \"I've never met a guy who could fill me up like that.\"\n\nGreg muttered incoherently for a moment. Abby stood and wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself against him.\n\n\"But I want more. I always want more.\" She said. \"How much do you think you can give me?\" She leaned in close and whispered in his ear. \"I want as much as you have, and I'm willing to do anything to get it.\"\n\nGreg shuddered as her fingers caressed him. His mind slowly churned to life. He really began to realize what she was saying. This was going to make his life a lot more complicated.\n\nAt least he probably would not need to get any more buckets." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: The world's highest security prison has no fences or towers, none of the doors are locked (not even cell doors) and there aro no guards - and yet, there have never been any escapes." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Warden strolled out from his plane, flanked by two guards, the new prisoners were bundled from the rear hatch, chained together with a surprisingly low guard compliment.\n\nThey squinted their eyes in the blazing sun. The prison, did not look like a prison. What it did look like was an oasis.\n\nFields of sand stretched out as far as the eye could see, the only feature anywhere on the landscape was this patch of water, flanked by the shade of several desert trees and shrubs that lined the waters. It was surprisingly large, the water and trees supported by outcroppings of rock that held back the shifting sands. There were two levels to the oasis, with a small waterfall spilling into the pool below. Other prisiners sat about under the shade, drinking from the oasis or eating some of the food supplies that were sitting around in grey crates, the draped parachutes that had delivered them had been reused as canopies, and hammocks strung up between trees for the prisoners to use.\n\nThe new inmates were gathered up, the warden stood before them as some of the guards went among them and undid their restraints one by one. Many of them entertained ideas of stealing the plane and forcing the pilot to fly them out of there, but the machine guns held aloft by the black suited guards flanking the warden were a pretty effective deterrent.\n\n\"Welcome prisoners! Welcome, to paradise penitentiary!\" The warden began speaking, gesticulating as he did so like a conductor before his orchestra. \"First of all, If I could direct your attention to the 'prison' behind you. You will notice that their are no walls here, no fences, no gates or barbed wire. There are no checkpoints before entering because nothing ever needs to arrive, your supplies will be dropped every second Thursday at 3pm more or less on the dot. You will not be watched by any cameras or dogs, the guards accompanying me will be leaving with me. You are, basically, free to make your own schedule.\" His smile made the suspicious prisoners doubt that it would be so easy to simply walk out of the prison. They were right.\n\n\"You are of course, free to take a walk at any time. You have unlimited directions to choose from and no one will try to stop you. Quite frankly, if you make it through the desert, in my personal opinion you deserve freedom.\" He chuckled to himself. \"But just as fair warning...\"\n\nThe warden gestured to a guard just behind him who pulled out a classic sandbag shotgun. He pointed it out into the landscape and fired. A purple sandbag arced an impressive distance before landing with a thud out into the shifting sands. For a few seconds nothing happened, the guards, warden and inmates old and new all watched the otherwise featureless patch of sand where the sandbag lay. Then with zero sign to herald its coming, there was an explosion of sand and something huge and bristling with armour burst from the sand where the sandbag was. It was difficult to see with all the sand in the air and was gone before the sand cleared, but it looked like some kind of giant sand worm.\n\n\"You are protected\" The warden continued nonchalantly \"by the hard rock of the oasis, but around this spot of moisture, the sand worms are especially numerous. They prey upon the animals who seek the precious water, and now that includes you.\"\n\nHe smiled and waved like he was bidding farewell a close friend. \"And on that note, I bid you good by!\"\n\nInmates old and new watched him leave wordlessly. None interfered, and none would escape. None would even try." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: You are a 14 year old only child to parents in their sixties. One day, while going through old boxes, you find a photo taken of your mother and father twenty years ago. Standing in front of them is a teenager who is identical to you in every way." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I sat across my parents, my mother sobbing and my father grim. Between us on the coffee table lay a picture I found rummaging through the attic. There were 3 people in the picture, a younger version of my father in his white lab coat, a younger version of my mother in her fur coat and designer shoes, and lastly a current version of me, exactly the way I am now. I must have stared at the picture for hours, combing through every last detail, before confronting my parents – or whoever they were. It was me, I was sure of it. Mouth crooked in the same toothy grin, a scar above the left eyebrow, but most telling of all, different colored eyes, right eye blue and left eye red. The back of the photo in my father’s handwriting were the words “family” crossed out, dating 20 years back.\n\n“We‘re s-s-so sorry sweetheart,” my mother cried in between sobs, “we just l-l-l-loved you so much.”\n\nThe term of endearment died at my ears, but my heart suddenly felt 100 pounds heavier. I sat in silence waiting for their explanation, waiting for the picture to make sense.\n\nMy father inhaled, “Son, we just want you to know, we love you very much, and no matter what you see today you will forever be our child.”\n\nI clenched my jaw not wanting to speak. A flurry of emotions ran through my body, I had no idea what I was feeling- Anger? Fear? Disappointment?\n\n“Follow me, Son,” he stood and turned to my mother, whose face was still buried in her hands.\n\n“I can’t do it, I can’t…it doesn’t make a difference anymore.”\n\n“He has to know, or we’ll lose him again”\n\n“Go first, I need some time.”\n\nMy father nodded, and motioned me to follow him. We walked in silence as he led to down to the basement. My mind was racing, looking back on the last 14 years of my life. It was so normal, we were so happy, what is going on? He opened the circuit breaker, and flipped some combination of switches, and the far side of the wall lifted up revealing a bright lit room.\n\n“wha..”\n\n“This is my lab, let me show you.”\n\nMachines I had never seen, state of the art technology, and vials of liquid filled the room.\n\n“Come,” my father said as he crossed the room. I was only halfway there when I stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of what my father wanted me to see. A giant cylindrical container with plugs and tubes sticking out and into a machine, a green liquid bubbled inside. I barely noticed the empty container beside it, I barely noticed the huge monitors attached to the side, my eyes were trained on the body inside. A man suspended in buoyancy. I looked closer and saw the scar, above his left eyebrow. My hand instinctively shot up to feel my own scar. His eyes were closed, but I knew what color they were.\n\n“It happened 20 years ago. That picture is of us the night it happened. It was raining and dark when we drove back home after a benefit. I had just received some award for my work in the lab. Your mother and I were fighting. I can’t even remember about what anymore. You were in the back seat. A deer shot out of nowhere and I swerved to avoid hitting it. We tumbled off the cliff. When we came to you already had no pulse. No hospital in the world could have saved you. So I brought you back here, and stuck you in that life containment unit, it was originally made for the animals I was testing on. Genetic research. It took 6 years but I was finally able to do it. I had your body, I had your DNA and blood, I could do it. That empty container to the side is where we created you.”\n\n“I’m…a clone?”\n\n“NO! You are our SON. And NOTHING will ever change that.”\n\nI heard a noise behind me and my mother stumbled in, her tears still wet on her cheek, her makeup ruined mascara running, her hair a blown up mess and her body was visibly shaking. She had a revolver in her hand.\n\n“Mom..what?”\n\n“NO Mary!” My father stepped in front of me, “we already decided we weren’t going to do it anymore. THIS IS OUR LIFE NOW. THIS IS OUR SON.”\n\n“THAT WAS BEFORE HE FOUND OUT! HE WON’T LOVE US ANYMORE. WE’RE GODDAMN MONSTERS FRANK. WE CREATED HIM IN A FUCKING LAB. HOW CAN HE LOVE US? THIS IS THE ONLY WAY TO GET OUR SON BACK!” My mother was frantic.\n\n“WE DON’T’ EVEN KNOW IT WILL WORK,” my father was screaming, “Put the gun down, we’ll make it through this.”\n\n“W-w-what will work?”\n\nMy father turned, but he couldn’t look me in the eye. “You were originally created as a donor, we were going to transplant your organs back and hopefully bring you back to life.”\n\nI buckled and fell to the floor. My father knelt down beside me speaking rapidly, “but we changed our mind, the moment you opened your eyes. We didn’t think you would gain consciousness but you did. You had life. You are your OWN life, and OUR child. Please understand we love you more than anything.”\n\nMy mother broke down too; she was crumpled up on the floor with the revolver next to her. She was crying uncontrollably.\n\nA sound jarred all 3 of us into silence. A tap- tap. None of us moved. Tap- tap. My mother gasped and covered her mouth. My father looked up and fell over. I turned around to see the source of the noise.\n\nTap- Tap.\n\nI was staring face to face with a pair of opened eyes. 1 red. 1 blue." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: A sort of combination of time travel and Blue's Clues: if you hold a physical photo, you can sometimes go into that photo, even if it's from a long time ago. (Up to you the writer if voluntary, involuntary, or a mix)" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Robin took a deep breath, looking down at the thin film on the dark table, stark against the wood. He was sweating and his palms felt clammy, he was nervous that once he grasped the photo it would dissipate and ruin because of how much he was sweating. He knew he shouldn’t be nervous, and that the photo would be fine, but common sense did little to quell his anxiety.\n\nWhat if it didn’t even work? Yes, it was supposed to, but he’d never really tried. But he was old enough now, and his family had been doing this for generations. He would be fine. He just needed to pick up the stupid photo.\n\n“Start small,” his dad had warned, “you’ll be just fine, but it’ll be easier if it’s not too far back.”\n\nRobin breathed out a sigh, and without another hesitation he grabbed the photo and stared straight at it. Instantly he felt a large whoosh around him, as he lost his footing and fell to the ground, the photo still clutched tight in his hand.\n\nOnce he was able to stand again, he looked around and he quickly recognized his surroundings from the image held in his hand. Lush trees and flowers in bloom, a beautiful park in his town in the middle of summer, he saw the large metal statue that had been torn down since his birth, but remembered his mother’s fond retelling of her favorite childhood park. He wished she was here with him now, but he felt strong suddenly.\n\nHe had done it! And he was fine! He walked around briefly, the park was quiet with morning, the birds had already woken up, the bugs flittering about the brush, but not a person in sight. Robin breathed in the soft, clean air and smiled. It felt so peaceful. Part of him wanted to stay longer, but he knew he should be getting back before he disturbed too much.\n\nWith a last smile and glance around, he grasped the photo again and looked down- and found himself back in his room, the familiar sights bringing him comfort but once again he wished for the sunny joy of the nearby park. He knew he could still go to it, but it felt undisturbed in the past, and he found he had no desire to visit it in the present.\n\nAfter his parents congratulated him on his successful first travel, Robin’s father made him an old fashioned to celebrate his 16th birthday. “I’m proud of you,” he had gritted out, “and today is the day you become a man.”\n\nRobin’s dad had apparently put more than normal amounts of whiskey, or made Robin was just a lightweight, because after he finished his drink and headed upstairs to change for his birthday dinner, he started stumbling around his room, struggling to find his footing in his familiar expanse.\n\nIn his drunken stupor, Robin misjudged the distance and stumbled into his desk, hitting his hip roughly against it. He startled at the sound of something hitting his rough oak floor, and winced as he bent down to grab it.\n\nIt was a photo of his great-grandfather at the restaurant his family had opened up that had unfortunately shut down when his grandfather had fallen ill and his dad sold it to help him stay comfortable in his last days. The memory made Robin sad, though usually it made him happy to see the joy on his great-grandfather's face and the young, shiny face of his grandfather, looking youthful and hopeful and so excited for what was to come. In the end the restaurant had helped him stay comfortable, but Robin didn’t know why it was upsetting him so much today.\n\nHe swiped at his tears, and didn’t notice the cracked corner of the frame and he grabbed it and held it close to his heart. Instantly he felt a now-familiar whooshing around him, and he gasped out a breath as he fell into a puddle, rain suddenly beating hard down on his back. His jeans were heavy and sopping, and his thin t-shirt was clinging to his shivering frame. He slurred a bit as he looked around for the photo, only to realize it had been dropped again and was now laying in a broken heap of glass and quickly decaying paper.\n\nRobin froze and instantly went to grasp at the photo, muttering a frantic “no no no no!” But nothing happened. The photo was gone as Robin looked around helplessly, a bright city all around him but no one paid the drenched kid in an alleyway a second thought as he felt tears sting his eyes. He didn’t know what to do. He’d have to wait until one of his parents realized his mistake and came to get him. He didn’t know how long that would take, or if they’d even find him.\n\nHe let out a shaky breath. He felt like such a failure, it was only his second time traveling and he'd already gotten himself in a mess. He had to be careful, especially with who he talked to. He knew that he wasn’t supposed to try and communicate with the people of the past unless he was willing to deal with the consequences of what could happen.\n\nRobin finally rose to his feet and let out another dejected breath, only to find that a young man was walking towards him. Robin instantly started to panic, as the young man was clearly trying to get his attention, and he started to worry about how this one stupid conversation could affect the rest of the world, when Robin stopped short.\n\nThe man had familiar kind eyes and a weary look on his face, and though Robin had never met him, he knew the man was his grandfather. “Need some help, kid?”\n\nAnd though Robin was still scared, he sighed in relief at the sight of his family, and he suddenly felt at peace, trusting that everything would be fine, because now he was no longer alone." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: \"You're telling me that the most dangerous woman alive, came in here, looking for frilly colorful dresses and things?\", asked the investigator. \"Yes.\" said the shopkeep, \"She said something about wanting to find her prince charming?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Investigator Bennett poked his head around the small clothing shop. It was a normal place, the kind one could find anywhere. It did not even have any enchanted clothes in stock. Not even simple cleaning workings. Why his investigation had lead him here was beyond him. The only evidence that he was in the right place was the attitude of the shopkeeper.\n\n\"Tell me again what happened, for the record this time.\" Bennett said. He took out a recording item, just so his superiors would be able to hear this later.\n\n\"Sh-she...she came in here. I...I didn't know who she was at first. It was my boy who figured it out. From her pictures, you see?\"\n\n\"And did you mention you knew who she was?\"\n\n\"No, but she figured out that I knew. Didn't care much either. She just said as long as I gave her what she wanted, she wouldn't break anything.\"\n\nBennett sighed. Why Black Margaret would want anything to do with such a backwater clothier was the real mystery. Even after hearing the story, he did not understand.\n\n\"And, did she keep her promise?\"\n\n\"Yes. She did. I mean, you can tell that much right? My store's still here, after all.\"\n\n\"True enough.\" The fact that everything was intact was a small wonder in and of itself. That woman was not subtle. \"Now, what did she want?\"\n\n\"Now, this is the weird part, sir. She wanted a dress. A fancy one, like the royals wear. Lots of pink frills and lace. It was costly to make, but we got it all done faster than anything that's ever come out of this shop.\"\n\n\"And then what happened.\"\n\n\"She...she paid for it. With coin. That was so socking my wife nearly dropped right then and there.\"\n\nThat was not even the most surprising thing. She had been known to use money, although it was a toss up whether she did or not. After all, who could stop her if she simply refused to pay? \"And you're sure it was Black Margaret and not a lookalike? Or someone in disguise?\"\n\n\"As sure as anyone can be these days. None of my family know about magic though, so I don't know who certain that is.\"\n\n\"Let's just assume it was the real thing. Did she say why she wanted the dress?\"\n\nThe shopkeeper wrung his hands nervously. \"She did. I...I didn't ask her though. It was my little girl. She got close to the woman and just asked why she wanted the dress. W-we tried to keep her back, but you know how kids are. Thankfully, the woman didn't take offense. She just laughed and said she wanted to find her prince charming.\"\n\n\"Her...prince...charming.\" Bennett said slowly. This was the most surprising part of the story.\n\n\"Her words, sir, not mine. I still don't know what she meant. Is there a prince named Charming somewhere in the world?\"\n\n\"Don't worry about what she meant. Did she say how she was going to do this?\"\n\n\"My daughter asked how too. She said something about finding a dragon to kidnap her and get rescued.\"\n\nBennett rubbed the bridge of his nose. He did not doubt the shopkeeper's story, but it was making less and less sense as it went.\n\n\"Are you telling me, a woman who kills dragons with her bare hands for fun wants to get kidnapped by a dragon.\"\n\n\"I-I'm only telling you what I heard, sir. I don't get it either.\"\n\n\"I know, I know. It just...it doesn't make sense. Why would she do that? And what dragon alive would even try to kidnap her? It flies in the face of everything I know about her.\"\n\n\"S-sorry, sir. But that's all I know. She didn't say anything else. She just took the dress and left. No idea which was she went after that, since none of us dared follow her.\"\n\nBennett waved the man's worry away. \"Don't worry about that. You've already done quite a lot to help me. Thank you for your time.\" Bennett shut off his recorder and headed for the door.\n\nOnce outside, he leaned against the wood and took a series of slow breaths. This job was getting harder all the time. Following the most powerful and dangerous woman in the world paid well, but it did little for his peace of mind. At least it was never boring." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: A Character who looks dangerous but is actually harmless and a character who looks harmless but is actually dangerous meet a foe who looks dangerous for a completely different reason than they look like they should be" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Krux walked through the forest, his black-spiked demon-bone armor creating an aura of darkness around him. His eyes glowed red through his helmet as he dragged his spiked club and bone-shield through the dark forest path. The 7 foot tall, muscular human walked through the forest with nothing but intimidation as his weapon, hoping that he would not run into any trouble with his bodyguard. The hulking figure followed a diminutive, 5 foot 2 inch little girl who wore a purple princess dress, a lavender hood, and a glittery, star-tipped magic wand that had a rainbow handle.\n\nKrux had no combat experience because he had been a model for armor merchants all his life and he was now depending on Lily, this strange dark mage, to guide and protect him through this dark forest.\n\nAt first, Krux could not believe that his modeling agent had hired such a little girl to protect him and guide him to the next town's weapons fair however, after seeing what the girl could do in battle, he was thoroughly terrified of her.\n\nDuring the gory ambush by a group of bandit wolf-people, the girl disarmed them with a cute look in her face before zapping the ground causing a chasm of terrifying tentacles of darkness to rip the soldiers apart while a large chasm of spiked teeth opened in the earth, chomping most of the unlucky bandits into bloody halves before anomalously closing up, leaving a mess of bloody entrails and blood splatters on the forest floor.\n\nLily had just smiled, apologized for the unpleasant experience, and then cheerfully continued guiding Krux through the forest after the gory battle as if nothing had happened.\n\nWhile Krux looked terrifying armed with a spiked club and wearing the new demon-armor his armor merchant wanted to show off, he certainly had none of the destructive powers that the cute, possibly insane little girl mercenary mage did.\n\nAs they navigated the forest, Lily said, \"Um, mister Krux? Let's just stop here for a bit, okay? Mister Wand senses something ahead and I need to observe it.\"\n\nKrux stood there confused as the little girl drew a glittery box in the air and then an image of a character appeared ahead. Lily peered at the image and then looked through her small leather book of bounties before saying, \"Okay, so the person ahead is a really bad man and I get a reward if I can capture him alive and bring him to the next town. Let's go, Mr. Krux!\".\n\nThe little girl quietly walked behind the sides of the trees while Krux tried to keep up silently until Lily motioned for him to stop moving.\n\nKrux could see a strange-looking gentleman dressed in a suit holding a cane with a glowing green crystal.\n\nThe man was extremely thin, wore a completely black suit with a top hat, a blank smiling mask on his face, a book in his left hand, the cane in his right hand, and a black sack tied to his back.\"I think our target's a mage.\", Lily whispered to me.\"Why though?\"\n\n\"Well, he doesn't look buff enough to be a barbarian, he doesn't appear to have a blade, and his cane has a glowing magic crystal. You have demon armor that resists magic, right, Mr. Krux? Just stand there and yell at him while I cast some spells to make Mr. Bad man go to sleep, okay?\"\n\nKrux nervously stood in the path of the strange criminal and yelled, \"OIIII, WHO DARES WIELD MAGIC IN THE PRESENCE OF THE GREAT, UH, DEMON WARRIOR?\"\n\nThe strange man looked up and chuckled before appearing next to in an instant and slashing the back of the armor.\n\nKrux was completely confused as he had thought he would be hit with a magic blast but instead, his armor now had a deep scratch in its back. The strange man chuckled, his book now the handle of a rectangular shield of energy and his cane a green-edged sword.Krux nervously sweated under his armor; while his demon armor was great for completely neutralizing magic attacks, prolonged physical combat would mean damaging the goods.\n\n\"Very gutsy of you to challenge me to fight, oh great demon warrior,\" the masked figure snickered.\n\n\"Alas, your armor appears to be only good for magic attacks. Bet you didn't expect me to be a swords-\"\n\nIn that instant, a portal of darkness opened next to him and tendrils of darkness pulled him in before dropping him, bound by energy ropes of darkness, behind Krux.\"Sorry for the armor damage, Mister Krux. Thought he was a mage. Guess not.\"\n\nKrux just groaned and hoped the trip would end soon as he dragged the thin, unconscious cane-swordsman to the next town. He would definitely have a lot of explaining to do for his boss as to why the goods got damaged." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: Life has been normal so far but ever since last week, a laugh track goes off whenever you do anything comical no matter where you are. Nobody has any idea where the laughs are coming from." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lindsay thumbed nervously through the Highlights magazine. “Ugh, why would someone circle all of the differences,” she quietly questioned to herself. Laughter, like that of a studio audience erupted throughout the room at this statement. Two weeks earlier Lindsay had first experienced what she was now calling “her own personal laugh track.” She had been unloading groceries from the back of her suv when the bottom of one of her paper grocery bags had torn open resulting in a dozen cracked eggs. The cacophony of laughter, clapping, and whistling had terrified her, resulting in her attempting to flee which in turn had caused her to trip and fall over another of her bags. This had only caused the uproar to return, louder than it had been before.\n\nThe 2 weeks that followed were filled with similar instances. Friday evening when she found that she had accidentally dropped a tube of Royal Raspberry lipstick into her whites, more laughter. Later that night she was even visited by the laughter when she sighed after checking her bank statement. Monday afternoon when she had texted Bradley a racy photo of what she was wearing she was met with a plethora of oh’s and ah’s. It seemed that no event in her life was off limits for the invisible crowd that was now watching her life unfold. It wasn’t until the Wednesday after the first incident that she had decided to seek help. That evening while browsing Facebook she had decided to tag Brenda in an old class photo that she knew that Brenda hated. Lindsay had only done this in good fun, but was immediately inundated with an unending stream of boos from her audience. That was the final straw. She made an appointment to see her doctor that Friday, and a priest for Saturday should the doctor have no answers.\n\nShe now sat in the waiting room of her physicians office, while her studio audience laughed at her misfortune of finding the spot-the-differences page covered in large, red circles. “Kids are monsters.” She was met with more laughter, and the nurse motioned her in.\n\nLindsay sat patiently on the examination table, staring at a particularly disgusting poster of the human digestive system while a scale model of the nasal cavities stared at her from the desk a few feet away. She could hear someone coughing in the back row. “Huh, that’s new,” she said aloud to herself. The audience laughed. “And it’s now getting meta.” More laughter.\n\nFinally Doctor Martinez entered. They greeted one another and shook hands before he pulled up a stool next to her and opened up her medical record.\n\n“So, before we go over your blood work and your xrays explain to me everything that’s been happening over the last 2 weeks.\"\n\nLindsay went into great detail. She had recorded every instance of the studio audience she had encountered and had even made the doctor a copy of her notes.\n\n“And that brings me to today. I feel like I’m going crazy, and I don’t know what else to do at this point. Please tell me that you have some idea of what’s going on here.”\n\n“Lindsay, you have a tumor the size of an apple literally smashing your parietal lobe into your skull.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Rule one - technological progress means that newer long-distance spaceships will catch up to older ones. Rule two - this means that whatever wiped out all the crews of old ships will get to new ones faster." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "We call them the swarm because they are the only ones who have been able to resist us for so long, most of the Galaxy’s civilizations fear us, while a small part of it bows and call us their masters.\n\nYet that was before we first encountered the Swarm, the very first encounter we had with them was of an extremely primitive object, barely advanced enough to even be called a ship, their nonsensical alien babbling meant little to us as they had become our next target for subjugation, to show their species that they should give up, we slaughtered the entire crew and studied their computer banks, we gained nothing from it as they had scrubbed it clean, we couldn’t get their homeworld…nor any information about them, only thing we had were their corpses and a blasted object.\n\nTime passed and we thought we’d never see another one of their vessels, then we encountered them yet again, this time the ship looked advanced enough to be called a ship and we reacted quickly in the hopes of gaining the location of their homeworld, they were all slaughtered and their attempts at fighting back were pitiful, yet they held out long enough to blow up their own ship.\n\nYet more time passed and we encountered a third ship, this one was advanced enough to fire back at us when we tried to approach it for boarding, it took us by surprise but our armor was strong enough to withstand the gravitational force of a black hole and their ship was quickly subdued, yet our initial boarders had problems, they were being pushed back until we sent reinforcements, a division was sent to assist and they started to retake the ship until the swarm sent out, what can only be described as an energy pulse sent in every direction, it was strong enough to temporarily overwhelm our electronics and that pulse was apparently all they were waiting for, the ship detonated itself, taking a division of our forces with it.\n\nI could bore you with the details of every other encounter but sufficient to say, after that encounter, we started to find them almost every, primitive and advanced yet one specific encounter changed it all…\n\nThe encounter started off the same as always, at this point we had stopped bothering to even try boarding them as they’d always detonated themselves, yet this ship we had encountered was advanced enough to actually damage our armor slightly, we quickly blasted it to atoms and were in the process of determining how much damage it had caused when suddenly another one of their ships appeared, we had never encountered more than one ship during an encounter….the ship that left whatever they use to travel looked advanced, yet ancient and we had to use more power than before to destroy it, yet the second we had destroyed that ship, another appeared from FTL, more advanced than the previous one and slightly younger.\n\nWe kept destroying their ships during that encounter, yet for every ship we destroyed another would quickly take its place, eventually they were appearing faster than we could destroy them and at that point the ships that appeared looked almost as if they had just left dry dock, they were starting to drown our fleet in numbers, primitive yet rapidly becoming more and more advanced by every ship that appeared.\n\nAt that point we retreated from the encounter and hoped that would be the end of it, we were wrong.\n\nTen years after that encounter one of our colony worlds went dark, we sent an armada to investigate, the same one we had used to subjugate most of this Galactic Council, only one ship returned from that group, heavily damaged, with their crew missing and the databanks contained only one message, “Terra Avenges”\n\nWe…no…I stand here before this Galactic Council…begging for help, they’re slaughtering everything we send at them, worlds are going dark every week, we can’t fight against them, they’re too strong…too powerful and too many, we…we fear that they will exterminate us from the galaxy. Please.\n\nThe Galactic Council seemed to converse with each other before the furred one spoke for them as a whole, “Your species will learn the lesson which you forced us to learn so long ago, there will be no help.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: For as long as you can remember you've been surrounded by darkness and warmth. Never needing to breath, never needing to feed. No matter how much you twist and turn always something to keep you in place. Until one day you see a faint light and the touch of something unfamiliar." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I remember this place ..this foundry called the darkness ..this is what I called home..I grew up in it ..I placed my misshapen fears and carved them into proper drawings in the walls of these very unlit chambers ...You might be scared of the horrors darkness weaves ..\"the very fabric that nightmares are made of\"..or so they say ..but I was sewn into it.\n\nLight to me was something that my nightmares were made of.\"Don't go there\" my dreams told me...dreams with violet hues and violent mannerisms ...\"I wouldn't go there \"..I cheerfully said ..\"I have you\" ..and as I tried to embrace it ..as always it disappeared in thin fog, leaving nothing but sadness behind.\n\nHunger..was a strange emotion to me..Hunger was that cowering ache in the depths of my bowels that began and ended abruptly..my screams to make the pain stop were consumed by these very encasings that gave birth to my permutations about life which were like vines gripping me around my waist,chest,legs,mind and everything in between ..as they were all leading to the same tree.\n\nSleep is something I've always liked ..like a dear friend it always lulled to my dearest of dreams ..those dreams were of nothingness..I always saw something in distance ..me chasing a faint white something ...but it disappeared as soon as I tried to catch a hold of it.As I woke up from my dream I was surrounded by faint white something ..and wailing of something what darkness called souls..but souls couldn't touch me.these creatures touched me and told me I was in a state called coma.\n\nI bit the person trying to touch me and started screaming as loud as I could.Then a few souls came and pinned me to a bed..but this bed wasn't like the bed that I dwelved for an eternity in..my bed was made of thorns,my bed had chains that would calm me when I tried to resist.My bed had a company of a nun who would sing me to lullaby so that I could go to sleep.Although she did tell me that she was over 500 years old and one of the oldest nuns around the hospital...I didn't bother since her voice was magical enough that I could sleep on a bed of thorns while being chained to it.\n\nDarkness had always warned me about light..about its \"fakeness\"...about the webs it spun around its prey like a spider and slowly digested it outside while the prey ..prayed to be spared ..slowly dissolving and turning into delicious meal that it savoured and ate while giggling,laughing,licking and mocking the prey ..\n\nAs I woke up to another nightmare where I was surrounded by souls again and a lot of light ..the vision was clear this time.But I tried to act smart and didn't scream ..I wanted to finish light ...I wanted to annihilate it ..so that darkness wouldn't have any problems from it ..even If it meant bearing the stench of the souls and living with them like a \"normal soul\" but I will bring darkness to justice.Since Darkness is Real and so are dreams made of darkness..." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Choose a classic fairytale(Snow white, Red Riding Hood, etc). Rewrite the story into a different genre(Sci-fi, High-fantasy, Cthulhu mythos, go nuts)." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Hansel tugged his sister's arm. Gretel, crying from their father's abandonment, hardly noticed.\n\nHansel sighed. \"Look. Trust me, Gretel! We'll get home even without him.\"\n\nThe moon was full, reflecting sunlight onto solar-powered markers. Fences of light appeared between the marker, forming a safe passage back. They reached their house, a bunker of sorts. Hansel slowly pried open a ventilation grate.\n\nThankful to be home, they slipped into slumber.\n\nTheir stepmother was not happy. Not happy at all. She concealed it for a while, before pressing a button to soundproof the room (which she had failed to do last time) and scream at their father, the poor miner.\n\nThe next day, they were once again taken out to the airfields. The wind whipped up as drones rose to the air in the morning, and the miner prepared for a day-long trip at the least.\n\nThey reached a clearing, with a large 'H' in the middle of a circular pad. It was an ancient sort of thing, the kind of machine even the poorest wouldn't deign to use. Their father mumbled an excuse, pulling out a cell phone as to be teleported to his workplace.\n\nHansel had once again laid down the markers, that prevented rogue drones from gunning them down and other sorts of things. But they were meant for miners, and the heavy wind and clouds blew them away.\n\nSo they ran through the airfield, trying their hardest not to be spotted by foreign robots or even friendly ones with faulty programming. Hungry and tired, they hid behind a maintenance shed, gunfire ringing all around them.\n\nAnd yet, right there, was a pot of soup. Behind a shed in the middle of a desolate airfield, there was food.\n\n\"Look, Hansel!\" Gretel spoke. \"It's such a large pot! Let's simply rest here for a while...\"\n\n\"It's so delicious! This is... meat?\"\n\n\"Vegetables, too? I've never had anything more than a supplement pill.\"\n\nThey were about to eat, when a grayed out hag appeared.\n\nThey were silent, and the woman said nothing.\n\n\"Um-\" One started to speak, but the hag teleported in front of her.\n\n\"Ah, hungry, are we? I'm not good with my sight, but two noisy children can't be ignored! Come in, come in!\" She waved them toward the maintenance shed.\n\nBut the hag wanted to scrap them for organic parts. It was a terrible place to be, the witch hiding on the airfield to harvest meat where no one else had any.\n\n\"You're nothing but skin and bones! I can't work with that!\" The hag grumbled, slipping on a lab coat. \"You need to have at least eighty kilograms of organic material before I can harvest you...\" She pushed Hansel into a containment chamber\n\nSo the hag force-fed Hansel carbon supplements, making Gretel fetch ingredients around the lab. But the cruel hag was blind, and relied on her hearing to tell where the children were.\n\nSo one day, Hansel played dead. The hag assumed that he would do this, but Hansel managed it for over three hours. The hag, assuming he had escaped, ran out to find him. Gretel let Hansel out of his cage, before handing him a dismantling ray.\n\nWhen the witch came back, Hansel shot the ray, and found that the witch contained thousands of rare and precious elements within her body. Finding more, safer markers around the house, they ran through the airfield and back home. Their father's wife had died, and they sold the witch's materials, making them rich and happy for the rest of their childhood." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 700-800 words. Prompt: The Evil Demon Lord is never defeated by the Legendary Hero because they are besties" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Past the gates of despair, through the corridor of pain, was the throne of eternal torment. Upon that obsidian mantle, who's very construction was rumored to be the work of a thousand master crafters, and basking in the glow of the flames of the Mount Balthazar sat Greg from accounting.\n\n\"You look good,\" Jeff the Legendary said. \"Really came into yourself.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I didn't expect to see you of all people,\" Greg said. \"How you been? But where are my manners? Make yourself comfortable.\"\n\nHe summoned a scaly creature with two heads, one a misshapen lump that could only screech in an unintelligible tongue, who produced a chair made from blackened bone. Jeff the Legendary took a seat and nodded.\n\n\"Thanks. This chair is surprisingly comfortable considering it's construction. Is this velour?\" Jeff asked.\n\n\"Bones of my enemies with a black velour cushion,\" Greg shrugged. \"You can't really expect to sit on a chair of bone for very long, now can you?\"\n\n\"So, Evil Demon Lord, huh?\" Jeff asked. He thanked the foul beast of a thousand eyes when it offered him a mug shaped like a skull. Within it was root beer.\n\n\"Well, it's just a title if i'm being perfectly honest. I just sort of fell into it. There was this headhunter...\" Greg began.\n\n\"Like a literal headhunter?\" Jeff asked.\n\n\"Of course,\" Greg said. \"And you know how these things go. One thing led to another and here I am. Evil Lord of all I see. The fringe benefits are great and we have this weekend vacation where everyone gets together at the end of the year. We kinda go all out, you know? I'll tell you, I'm surprised to see you here.\"\n\nJeff shrugged and managed to look sheepish. \"Well, they hired me to kill the evil demon lord, but no one told me it was you.\"\n\n\"Me?\" Greg asked. \"Are you sure?\"\n\n\"Evil Demon Lord. Go past the gates of despair, through the corridor of pain, and up to the Throne of Eternal Torment. They said that you're trying to take over the world with the souls of the damned. You believe that?\"\n\n\"After all I've done...You know we sponsor the local little league and we host a bake sale almost every year. Those ungrateful...\" Greg said. Gouts of flame rose from the lake of liquid fire and a chorus of demons screeched from somewhere nearby.\n\n\"Sounds rough, man,\" Jeff said. \"You need a moment?\"\n\n\"No, I'm sorry. It just gets so rough, you know? Half of this job is damage control and preserving the company image. I feel like I'm on a hamster wheel sometimes,\" Greg sighed. \"I'm being a terrible host. Can I get you something to eat?\"\n\n\"Oh, I really need to watch my weight,\" Jeff smiled. \"They have me on this diet...\"\n\n\"I noticed you really filled out!\" Greg laughed. \"I've been doing the same...\"\n\nAn uneasy silence lapsed in the room around them. Even the chorus of demons fell silent after a moment while Greg, the Evil Demon Lord, rapped his nails on his throne of torment.\n\n\"You know we're just avoiding the elephant in the room,\" Jeff said. \"What do we do about us? I mean, you're my best friend, man.\"\n\n\"I feel the same. I mean, even after all this time it feels like I just saw you in the board room. There are some things that just run deeper than who's trying to take over the world or who's got the sharpest sword. This is ridiculous, you know?\" Greg asked.\n\n\"I agree,\" Jeff the Legendary nodded. \"So what do we do?\"\n\n\"How about lunch Thursday?\" Greg asked. \"I can move a few things around if you're free?\"\n\n\"That would be nice,\" Jeff smiled. \"It's good to see you, Greg...I mean Evil Demon Lord.\"\n\n\"It's just a title,\" Greg waved his hand. \"Bring your game face and your appetite because we're having ribs. Maybe after we can shoot some pool.\"\n\n\"This really is a nice chair, considering,\" Jeff the Legendary stood to leave. \"You aren't really planning on taking over the world, right?\"\n\n\"It's not pressing,\" Greg smiled. \"Company secrets after all. Were you really going to try to kill me?\"\n\n\"It's not pressing,\" Jeff grinned. \"I guess I'll see you next week?\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: You die and go to hell, but the devil himself makes you a deal that if you can find a way to escape hell in under 24 hours, you can be free." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I woke up in a fit of agony. I clutched my chest as the pain became unbearable. I fell to the ground crying in pain.\n\n“Hello Thomas.”\n\n“Help me.”\n\n“Oh come now. I only help people who help themselves.”\n\nI forced myself to look up and saw an extremely well dressed man with a wicked grin on his face. He had white hair and a white suit on.\n\n“I... I can’t breathe...”\n\n“Oh fine.” He snapped his fingers.\n\nThe pain slowly subsided. In a matter of seconds, i was perfectly fine.\n\n“Who are you?”\n\n“Take a guess.”\n\nI looked around me. It was dark and foreboding. A shiver ran up my spine.\n\n“I don’t know. Where am I?”\n\n“Mr Thomas D Russell. Welcome to hell.”\n\n“What? No that’s imposs...” And it all came back to me. I had been out running when I had felt a sharp pain in my chest. A shortness of breath. “Am I dead?”\n\n“Oh yes. Quite.”\n\n“But why hell? I’ve been good all my life. I never hurt anybody.”\n\nHe shrugged. “That is not my responsibility. Think of me as the hotel manager. My job is to keep the people at the hotel happy. But my duties only start after you enter hell. How you got here? When you died? I don’t know or care about any of that.”\n\n“No! There has to be some sort of mistake.”\n\nHe shrugged again. “Well the lord works in mysterious ways and all that shit.”\n\n“I need to talk to him. I should get a fair hearing. I should be told what my sins are.”\n\n“Yeah well and I want Jessica Tinsley as my queen. But we can’t all get what we want.”\n\n“Who?”\n\n“Right. I forgot it was only like two thousand something there. Never mind.”\n\n“But come on. If I have to spend eternity in hell, at least I should know why.”\n\n“Hmmm tough situation right. Ok you know what.m, I’m bored. Let’s play a game. If you win, i’ll allow you a safe passage out of hell to wherever you need to go. If you lose, well, let’s just say I have lots of fun planned for you.”\n\n“Fun?”\n\n“It will be for me. Come on what do you have to lose.”\n\n“Ok. What are the rules?”\n\n“It’s simple. We are now standing in the first level of hell. There are nine total. I am going to my office in the ninth. You come see me in twenty four hours. If you get there, i’ll let you go.”\n\n“That easy?”\n\n“Oh trust me. It’s not easy. You’ll come face to face with your deepest fears. Look for a red gate on each level. Cross that and you are on the next one.” He whistled loudly.\n\n“Ok so through the red gate and ...” I was interrupted by the sound of something massive. I looked around to see a massive black dog. It had three heads and was carrying a big bone in all of them.\n\n“Down boy. Down. Thomas, say hi to Cerberus. Dinosaur bones specially made for him.”\n\nThe massive beast lay the bones at his feet and looked at him expectantly.\n\n“We’ll play later boy. Come now. It’s time for us to get to work. Come on.”\n\nAnd they both disappeared.\n\nWhat had I gotten myself into?\n\nI looked behind me. There was a door which was boarded up. A no exit sign was spray painted on it. I tried to pry the boards away without luck. The sign above the board proclaimed this to be Limbo.\n\nI had to find the red door. I kept walking straight till I saw another solid wall. If the door I left behind had been the entrance, it stood to reason that this wall would have the exit somewhere. I touched my hand to the wall, turned right and started walking.\n\nI soon ran into an old man sitting on a chair. He wore tattered clothes and was eating food.\n\n“Sir, do you know the way to the second level of hell?”\n\n“Do I? Do we know anything? Is it possible to know anything for sure? You are in hell young man. Nothing is as it seems. Good is bad. Bad is good. Up is down and down is up.”\n\n“Right. I get that. But do you know where I need to go.”\n\n“Nowhere. Trust your destiny. Trust in your god. You are where you need to be at this moment.”\n\nI looked at him wondering if he would give me any information. He stood up and looked me in the eye. There was something almost hypnotic about his eyes. I sat there standing for who knows how long.\n\nFinally I came to And averted my gaze. I bowed my head and that was when I noted it. His feet. He had webbed feet with claws at the end. A demon? I looked at the bowl he was eating from. I saw that it was filled with flies and other insects. I shrank back from him, horrified.\n\nI quickly started to walk away from him.\n\n“Where are you going young man? Do you not want to go to the next level?”\n\n“I do. I will find it sir. Thank you for your help.”\n\nI kept my hand on the wall and kept walking. But his words kept running through my head. I was where I needed to be. Up was down and down was up. That had to mean something. I looked around me. Nobody. I looked back and the old man had sat back down and was eating again.\n\nI went back towards him.\n\n“Ah, welcome back young man.”\n\n“Sir, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”\n\n“Go right ahead.”\n\n“Why is this place so empty?”\n\n“Empty? Why this place is bustling. We see what we want to see the devil deceived us. We are creatures of the dark. We have become so used to the dark that we can’t see the light. The guiding light.”\n\nI looked at his bowl of insects. And then at his feet. Creatures of the night. And I understood.\n\nI looked up. The roof was bustling with people. It was so high that I almost got vertigo looking at it. Up is down. And also right above us, I saw it. The red door." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1200-1300 words. Prompt: Precursors like to help young species in much the same way that some people like to help stray cats. Humans are raccoons, being helped by the precursor equivalent of a respected but nearly blind old person. Other precursors are confused while other young species just think we're odd cats" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ancient powerful entities roam the universe. They are the final result of evolution, both natural and guided. They are ascended in all possible ways that one could imagine, and possibly also in ways that younger races cannot even conceive of. They are the perfect flesh, the perfect machine, and the perfect extradimensional creatures, all in one. Even the most powerful, most advanced normal races in the universe are miniscule and insignificant in comparison to these incomprehensibly powerful precursors. A single precursor could upend an empire that spands mere galaxies. Because the precursors are the highest level possible to attain on what the human race calls the Kardashev Scale. They go beyond the mere power of controlling a single universe, and have the ability, knowledge, and strength necessary to control the infinite multiverse as they please. The laws of physics are nothing to them. The continuing entropy of the universe can be rolled back, should they desire it. From nothing, they can create energy. Even time itself bends to their whims.\n\nHow lucky are the millions of cultures on thousands of worlds, that they are mostly benevolent.\n\nTo the young, growing, and aspiring species that arise on various worlds, they are like benevolent caretakers. They come into the dark forest of the universe, and carry aloft a lantern. By its light, they dispense wisdom according to their own will and personality. Some appear in godly forms, though whatever gods that might be, they have long since eclipsed such divine entities in power and majesty. These who appear in the god-guises are lawful, strict, and would like to see the weak and fragile young races put into order. They make them safe, and take their development towards a position that will make them safe. Like taking a young kitten out of the wintry night, and into the warm safety of a good home. Though once inside, they do not ever leave again. They can be seen, safe, well-fed, and well-kept, in their gilded cages. Others allow their charges to roam more freely. To make mistakes, though usually the precursor in question can be counted on to help heal whatever damage might have been done. They care for the young interstellar species as best they can, and guide them towards the way that they feel is best. These usually become galaxy-spanding federations, of explorers, scientists, and diplomats. Which makes the precursor who have nurtured all those different friendly races, and brought them to the apogee of their existence, quite proud.\n\nOf course, not all species are equally guided. Some are wild, and when offered a hand, given a treat, or offered aid, respond with feeble attempts at violence. These races do not last as independent entities. Those who when offered care, assistance, and aid, accepted it, they prosper. Those who bite the hand that feeds, usually collapse, and must be saved by those who had the foresight, morality, and decency needed to accept outside help from an ancient, incomprehensible, eldritch, and ultimately benevolent force.\n\nAnd then there's them. Whenever the precursors gather, and speak in their language sounds like the birth of stars and the swansong of galaxies, they tend to compare races. They compare prosperity, numbers, philosophies spawned, and other such metrics. Every last one of them get very awkwardly quiet whenever the Eldest shows off their charge. The Eldest was the last of their ancient species that was born when they were still only a species in total control of their own universe. They are respected, for their infinite wisdom. They are loved for their kindness, and great deeds in the defence of the multiverse against things that should not be in any creation. But like any elderly relative, some of their more recent acts have the rest of their social circle somewhat concerned. Some say they must be going blind, or that it has been too long since the last time they guided a civilisation. But for the first time in the lifespan of ten universes, the Eldest has picked a species to assist.\n\nThe species in question is completely and utterly feral; they don't just bite the hand that feeds, they try to kick the groin of the feeder just for good measure. The other immortal and endless precursors, who have existed in the first universe that ever was, the seed from which all realities grew, are fairly confused by this state of affairs. This species lives on a garbage dumb of a planet. They're constantly fighting amongst themselves like rabid animals. And so far somewhere around 22% of the species believes the Eldest to be some manner of evil demon here to torment them. The Eldest however, likes them. Can't notice the flaws, and just calls this insane little species ''spicy'' and ''funny''. The Eldest fixed their environment, after they nearly destroyed themselves. They thanked the Eldest by trying to nuke them, which to a species that routinely bathes in stars to relax is little more than mildly annoying.\n\nNow, with primitive FTL, they spread slowly from their overpopulated home. Other races, guided properly, find them to be odd, but rather amusing. But they have accepted these humans, as they call themselves, into the greater galactic community. Where they immediately prove themselves a bother to precursors that are leading races in a proper fashion. They steal technologies, they spread discord and strange ways of thinking. Many of the more protective precursors have expressly forbidden their charges from interacting with these humans, but the humans find ways of doing so anyway. And as time goes on, the guided races question the wisdom of not interacting with the humans. Sure, they say, the humans are odd, strange, and a little more violent than you'd think. But they're very clever, surprisingly loyal, and oddly charming in a humorous fashion. Why should they not interact with them? After all, they're not doing any harm.\n\nThe Eldest keeps them in check, as best they can, but the humans are a barely constrained force of nature that acts completely out of the expected field for any race in the universe. Some precursors are wondering if there is something wrong with the Eldest. That they, like some did early on after their species took primacy and dominion over creation, has gone mad. The Eldest however, hasn't done anything typical of the mad, besides not seemingly reacting to the weird, strange, and wild things that their humans do. When humans accidentally punch a hole into another reality, far before they should be able to do that, they smile and give the humans the civilisation-vise equivalent of a good scratch behind the ears. To which humanity scream bloody murder and seemingly tries to, metaphorically, wriggle out of it. When a human brings a star to life and falls in love with it, the other mortal races find it odd. But the precursors are weirded out. Humanity genemods themselves into a billion different weird configurations, goes digital, finds a way to become gas, plasmatic life, and does countless other weird and bizarre things that normal species don't do, the Eldest just acts like this is perfectly normal for\n\nThe precursors, however, are more than willing to let the Eldest do this, if it makes them happy. After all, it's only one universe. And it will cease having life in it eventually. The precursors in general just shake their head and let the Eldest do what they want to do. What harm could it do?" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: \"This isn't going as expected, right?\", the Dark Lord smirks, as he stands over the body of the slain 'Chosen One', whose special blood already begins to fuel the 'ritual of ascendance'. \"It can't be!\", one of the heroes gasps, \"The prophecy...\" - \"Worked out exactly as I planned it.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She lays where I laid her, blood running from her veins, infinity racing in her eyes. Their chosen one, and mine. The ritual is almost complete. The end has not even started.\n\nShe has accepted my revelation, but her retinue has not. Like gears in clocks, they wind up to play their parts. Blades shink. Shields rattle. Lips move with hollow battle cries. How utterly familiar.\n\nWe fight – and oh, how we ight. All this red, and all this gold. All the armor and swords and souls. It was the same in my time; I’ve been here before myself. We’re all the chosen ones in our hearts, until the truth comes for us with its rings and chains. Reality is not a kind mother nourishing our potential. She is a hard woman, pushing us out the door.\n\nThirteen thousand years ago, at the end of my world’s cycle, yet a nascent portent of theirs, I was in this girl’s place. I was the chosen one, the white-cloth mannequin, the vestal pig. A coterie of legend warriors escorted me to mountains of shadow and flame. There, with the sacrifice of my life, I was to accomplish that which all the ingenuity and avarice of my people could not. I was to save the world.\n\nThere are simple rules in the universe. Call them sorcery or science, but the rules are the same. Sacrifice is the great engine; a motivator borne of meaning and choice. I learned its power myself, on the cusp of salvation, thirteen thousand years back.\n\nFor I failed. I failed, just as I chose to. In that moment, when heathen flames blackened and curled my parchment skin, when my kindred’s omen-chants pounded in my ears, when the universe unrolled before me, I knew only I could save them. The flames told me, and the flames do not lie.\n\nBut why should I? I thought. They had not saved me. They had not even tried.\n\nSo I chose their end, and my new beginning. I chose to let my kingdom die. Sacrifice is the great engine. But in the moment of truth, only the ones who steer that motor get to say where it goes.\n\nI sheathe my blades and step over the broken corpses of her magisterial retinue. Their armor, once refulgent, is now dented and scarred and stained. I see the scattered pieces of them and grimace. Then I check the Cycler Aetheric, measuring its accelerations with a well-trained eye. The scryer orbs have filled with nether light. The spinning silver rings thrum. As the orrery completes its alignment, I smell ozone and roses.\n\nBelow this all, her blood drying in the grooves of my great machine, my chosen one: the fruit of a prophecy I had planted long ago.\n\n“You’ll let us all die.” Her voice is only a croak. So weak, so fragile. Not for much longer. “How can you be so selfish?”\n\nI wave my hand. “You wouldn’t understand. They taught you to be selfless. Ever ask why?” I shake my head. “No. Because the truth is they used you.”\n\n“But it was you. You planned all of this.”\n\n“I planned a lie,” I said. “A lie in which they were to use you. If they played their parts, it is because they were evil. Not I. And even if I were, that does not change the fact they used you.\n\n“I did my duty.”\n\nI scoff. “And tell me, if you were not chosen, what would your duty have been then? Scraping pig shit? Cleaning chimneys?”\n\nShe is silent. There it is again: infinity in her eyes, like the line where the sea eats the sky.\n\n“Besides,” I say. “We won’t all die.” I finish working the spellbound controls with my long-nailed fingers, then stride closer. “Only them. Only me.”\n\nIn her mind, the bitter math resolves. “I’ll live?”\n\n“A ritual of ascendance, dear. But not mine. And certainly not theirs.”\n\nI know what she’s thinking, for I’ve been there before myself. She looks at her opened veins, like red tulips in black pumice. She thinks, I’m lying, or simply wrong, for oblivion licks at the edges of her and she tastes it right back–\n\nShe thinks she has failed in a role ordained for her, the role she did not desire. She thinks of what the others will say: What a poor girl. What a poor daughter. What a poor wife.\n\nBut she is relieved. I know. I was.\n\n“I’ll live.” The words leave her mouth, a revelation.\n\nI kneel before her, then take her hands in mine. “As I did, in a manner of thinking. There are certain things about our kind which never change. Nations and empires may come and go, like fire and ash. But certain rules are fixed. Like the power of sacrifice. Or the fact that for a few to prosper, they believe many others must be shackled. “\n\nShe shook her head. “I don’t understand.”\n\n“You are the chosen one,” I say. “You. No one else. That, at least, was not a lie. But they chose for you, just as others did for me in my own time. In the next cycle, after you ascend, you must choose what to make of the world, in the ways you can.”\n\n“How?” she asks. “What do I do?”\n\nThe gravity of epiphany pulls down on her, but she functions. I know that weight well. Look at her: stronger than she thinks.\n\n“You decide,” I say. “You’ll have that at least. My time is over. Let yours begin.”\n\nHer here-and-there eyes search mine for answers. A thousand more questions hide in the line between her lips.\n\nBut I said what I meant to say, and that was more than anyone told me. She’s strong. She’ll do well. And if she is scared of what possibilities lie beyond the guidance and company of her people, it is only because now the bars of her cage are gone.\n\nI function the final spell. One cycle ends, and another’s freedom begins.\n\nu/AdeptnessPrize" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: A young boy wakes up with sleep paralysis for the first time." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He quickly glanced around, sword in hand, after rolling away from an attempted blow of his enemy. The brutish man\n\nbefore him raised his sword for a second blow. With a flick of his wrist, he was able to parry the man's slash, and\n\nwith another twist of the blade, he thrust it upwards catching the man between his breastplate and helm. The towering\n\nman let out a sickening gurgle, crimson began flowing downwards into his mail. Gripping his hilt with both hands, he\n\nput his foot in the chest of the man, and shoved him off the blade. He slashed the blade downwards, freeing the blade\n\nof the grime of war. Around him, fires burned and bodies lie. The last of them lay before him. He sheathed his sword,\n\nand walked over to the maiden hunkered down next to a pillar. Her golden flax hair lapped at her shoulders in the wind,\n\nrevealing her tear-stained cheeks. He reached down, and extended a hand. The girl looked up at her champion with\n\nsurprise, placed her delicate hand in his, and was heaved upwards. He held her by the small of her back as she gazed up\n\ninto his eyes. Their heads began to gravitate towards one another, her head tilting upwards. Her lips were on a direct\n\ncourse for his, he began to close his eyes, and suddenly it was all gone.\n\nThe air was cool. His ceiling fan whirring away above him. Saddened by the realisation of his dream state, he let out a sigh. His eyes sleepily crept open. It must have been in the early hours of the morning because there was no light greeting his pupils. As his eyes fully opened, the world started to come into focus. His heart began racing, as a grotesque face was staring at his directly in front of him. A twisted grin lay upon a face with a hideous texture. The teeth that belonged to the grin were crooked and rotten, not even six inches away from him. Panic flooded over him, and he attempted to back up in his bed. The only thing he was met with was the realization of his inability to move. His diaphragm flexed tight as his eyes widened. He attempted to scream, but was only met with a muffled exhale. His eyes dashed from side to side as the faced remained grinning ever resolute. Was he still dreaming? The hair on his neck was raised, and his brow had beads of sweat. He tried his best not to look directly at the face in a sad attempt to protect himself as he lay paralyzed in his own bed. Why wasn't he being attacked, molested, or whatever foul plan this beast had in store for him?\n\nAs seconds passed, his eyes began to creep sheepishly back towards the monster. When his eyes again met with the face, embarrassment washed over him. In the pale moonlight that shone into his bedroom, he made out his comforter bunched up beside him, the shadows and textures giving the resemblance of a face. Now, that fear had subsided, he was more interested in why he couldn't move. He had heard of sleep paralysis before but never experienced it. He strained with his mind, and his right hand slowly made its way too his brow. He wiped the sweat away, blinking in the darkness. After a few more minutes, he was able to move all of his extremities. He chuckled as he pushed the comforter away from him, ending his ordeal.\n\nEdit: The latter half of this story is actually what happened to me when I first experienced sleep paralysis." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You are an elf that has been working as a janitor for a thousand years. You are trying to get a better job, but every position is already filled by an immortal." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I sat in the reception of the last fortune five hundred company on my list that hadn’t refused me yet. This was my last chance at getting a job in the field I had studied. I had sent in my application to their assistant position on the informations team and was surprised when they’d called me up the next day.\n\nMost companies I had applied to so far took one look at my resume and decided I wasn’t experienced enough. Surely I had been working as a janitor for the last thousand years or so, but to these people, that was only a blink of the eye.\n\nMy real merits came from my time at the University and during an internship I had had with one of the big four in auditing. That was over a thousand years ago now and I had applied for more jobs than I could remember since then. Every time getting the letter of rejection due to my lack of experience in the workforce. If you had only a thousand years of working, you were considered a child.\n\nThen there was the small problem of me only having maybe another good five thousand years, before old age took me and I had to retire. This was the real reason for every company to reject me. I just wasn’t looking good long term for them. I wasn’t a sound investment.\n\n“Miranda?” a pale woman asked from the end of the room.\n\nI stood up from the chair and gave her a polite smile. I brushed my hair forward, making sure my pointy ears were covered. I didn’t want her to see my weakness right away.\n\n“I’m Celia,” she said. “The head of information.”\n\nI followed her into a small meeting room with a gray carpet and white walls. The air conditioning drummed in the background and I could hear a faint buzzing from the florescent lights. It smelled like old dust in here, even though it looked clean enough.\n\n“So I’ve looked through your resume and really, I only have a couple of questions for you,” Celia said.\n\nShe fiddled with a printed copy of my resume in her hands and I felt my palms sweating.\n\n“It says here that you attended University during the fifth era,” Celia said. “Then you had a short internship, impressive. But after that, you only seem to have been working as a janitor. It’s, of course understandable, not everyone is lucky to get a job right after Uni. But what really concerns me is the lack of information before you attended University.”\n\n“Yeah,” I said, a bit noncommittally.\n\nCelia looked up from the piece of paper in her hands. “You were born under the first era, right?”\n\n“Well, not exactly,” I said.\n\n“What? So you’re not an immortal?” Celia asked.\n\nI brushed the hair away from my ears and Celia’s eyes fixed on the pointed tips sticking up between my strands of hair.\n\nShe gasped, actually gasped.\n\n“Sorry, but you didn’t say no elves can apply in the ad,” I said.\n\n“Yeah,” Celia said. “But that was implied. I mean, what should I do with you?”\n\n“Hire me?” I tried.\n\n“No, that would be impossible. Imagine the lawsuit on our hands when you just die from disease at your desk after a couple of thousand years.”\n\nCelia shook her head.\n\n“I mean, I already have an assistant that’s older than you,” Celia continued. “Sure, he’s currently attached to the wall on the fifth floor. But that’s just what happens when you spend too many years sitting in the same place.”\n\n“And that would never happen to me,” I said. “I will work very hard every day for you, never becoming furniture or growing attached to you walls. I will be able to follow you around and take notes. I will work double time. Please, just give me a shot.”\n\nCelia chewed at the bottom of her lip, thinking over my proposition.\n\n“It would be nice with a pair of fresh eyes,” she said. “And I suppose I could put an alarm on my phone to remember to fire you after, let’s say, six thousand years. Then you shouldn’t die in the office, right? I never remember how fragile you mortals are.”\n\n“Yes,” I said. “I promise to not die in your office.”\n\n“Okay,” Celia said. “I will hire you for a trial period. If you show yourself useful during the first thousand years, I will give you a permanent position. How does that sound?”\n\n“Thank you, Celia,” I said. “You will not regret this.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: Ever since you were a young child, the boogie man has been there for you, under your bed, listening to your many life problems and offering an attentive ear and words of advice. Now that it is Christmas once again, you decide it's high time that you finally got your friend a gift." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Yeah, yeah. Goodnight everyone. Try to keep Mom away from the eggnog, ok?” I heard a few jolly affirmatives thrown my way before I closed my bedroom door. As fun as family was during the holidays, I couldn’t handle them once the drunk singing started. There’s only so much a guy can take, you know? Besides, there’s still someone I had to check on today.\n\nWalking past the leftover wrapping paper strewn on the floor, I made my way to my bed and sat down. For once, the creaky springs didn’t dig into my butt. I stamped down on the floor a few times, “You there today?”\n\nThe voice coming from under my bed was like a whisper, just low enough to make anyone question whether it was real. I could never tell if it was feminine or masculine, but today, the whispers had a warm tone to them. “I’m here Jonathan.”\n\n“Hope you’re having a good night, Shade. Things are getting a bit loud and rowdy downstairs.”\n\nThe whispers chuckled, like they always did when I called it by its nickname. I felt fingers, far too many for any human hand, clutch my ankle gently. I kept my eyes away from the floor as the fingers drummed up and down my leg. “This is very interesting. It’s not like you to miss out on family events, especially right after the presents were opened. Did your aunt Shelly start talking politics again? Last time she did that your poor uncle had to pay for those new faucets. Did you know? Her exclamations shook the entire house. It was, of course, all in good fun.\n\n“Or, perhaps, your dad brought up your condition? Everyone knows, and even the ones that don’t understand make an effort to be courteous about it now. Mmm. No, he’s not drunk enough to let something like that slip.\n\n“I just can’t figure it out Jonathan. Why are you here so early?”\n\n“You know, I’m kind of glad you didn’t bring up Margaret.”\n\nThe fingers around my leg uncurled and retreated, except for one. That one poked my shin with something smooth and hard like marble. “I wouldn’t do that to you Jonathan. And what’s with that cheeky little smirk?”\n\n“Just, well, I couldn’t stick around after presents because there’s someone that still needed to open theirs. And no one besides me knew.”\n\nShade didn’t respond but I could feel the confusion hang in the air. It felt like a heavy curtain wrapped over me. The same feeling I’d had the first times Shade showed up. The feeling got a bit tighter when I took out a palm-sized present from my pocket and set it on the floor. The finger close to my shin retreated quickly, like a startled cat would’ve.\n\n“Happy Christmas Shade. I don’t think I’ve ever really said it, but you’re part of my family. Just as much as anyone out there.”\n\nSomething long and furry brushed past my legs. I heard the crinkling of the paper as Shade took it under the bed. A moment later, the daintiest sound of paper tearing I’d ever heard filled the room.\n\nI lowered myself from the bed and onto the floor, careful to keep my eyes pointing up. I felt the furry thing slightly protruding from under the bed and placed a hand on top of it. It was shuddering slightly, like my arms would when holding something heavy for too long.\n\nThe whispers returned but they were garbled, incomprehensible. They resembled more white noise than anything coherent, but after some time, Shade’s whispers returned. “Jonathan. This is incredible. How? How did you find this?”\n\nI’d never heard it speak with so much emotion. Even its furry thing was spasming gently but nervous. Its disbelief clashing with reality maybe?\n\nI shook my head. This meant a lot to Shade, better make sure I’m focused instead of screwing up. “I know you said you can’t get back home without some type of anchor. Don’t worry about how I go it. I didn’t pay or trade anything. I just had the fortune of knowing someone.\n\n“What matters here is that you can go home whenever you want Shade. And if you take something from here, you’ll be able to come back anytime.”\n\nThat was a lie, and we both knew it.\n\nWe stayed sitting there for a long time afterwards. The singing downstairs eventually stopped and the neighbors all turned off their lights. The moon was just peeking through the clouds when I felt my bed rustling, the creaky springs making a ruckus. I didn’t turn around, but I felt something big staring me down.\n\nSomething that felt like a curved knife pressed against my back, from the shoulder to the opposite hip. “It was an honor Jonathan.”\n\n“Thank you for everything Shade. I’ll never forget you.”\n\nI expected lights, maybe even sounds, but the next thing I knew, I was alone in my room. Turning around, everything was in its place it should be. The bed was still a mess right where I left it and the floor was just as dirty.\n\nThe only new thing was a marble-sized, round present, wrapped in the same paper I used for Shade’s gift. Yeah, looks like I’d truly never forget.\n\nI took it and smiled." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: Humanity, after making a trans-galactic flight to find more life is surprised to have only found... more humanity." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The whole ship began to vibrate. After seven hundred years of travel, and six generations of humans working together, they had finally arrived. Ellie watched as the massive radiation protecting shields were raised. True sunlight entered through the large windows for the first time in centuries, from a star previously only known to exist through complex mathematics, and it was now right infront of her, very much alive and well. A tear rolled down her cheek and roaring applause erupted within the terminal. A voice spoke to Ellie and her fellow friends and neighbours. She recognized it as Commander Weller.\n\n\"Dear citizens of Section C, now on your left, you'll see her. Micht 2b.\" An amazing marble presented itself. It looked very much like Terratus. A blue-green planet with white clouds and large oceans. Several people turned to Ellie and cheered. She felt flattered, yet it wasn't really her they were applauding for, but rather her ancestor. Ellie had never lived on Terratus. She just happened to be the last of the Micht bloodline, born and raised on The Horizon, the gigantic spacecraft that had taken them here. Eduard Micht had lived eight hundred and fifty years ago, and he was the man to first discover and calculate the existance of Micht-1, the star, and its planets. He was also the man to calculate the existance of life on Micht 2b. A true once in a lifetime genius. She nodded and smiled at the people. The elevator from the floor above was activated in the midst of celebrations and began its descent down to Ellie and the others. A man wearing a black space suit with the Horizon logo on it emerged from the elevator.\n\n\"Section C. Because of your VIP passenger Ellie Micht-Stefvens, you will be the first men and women to set foot on this new planet. The Scenographs at the top floor has not yet managed to make contact with life on the planet, but we are picking up static noise, electrical signals, and ancient Radio signals. We have not yet managed to decipher them. Our telescopes reveal large mid-era cities all over the planet, so we are definitely dealing with intelligent life. Be careful out there. We have also detected large masses grouping together, and aircrafts circulating the airspace close to where you'll be landing. They look as though they are ready for an attack.\" The man in the black suit looked at Ellie and beckoned her to come forward. She stepped forward, and he handed her a gold coloured spherical object the size of an apple.\n\n\"You know what to do.\" Ellie nodded.\n\nPresident Evan Smith had never felt more powerless than now. His advisors shouted in his face, while others tried to reason. Many sat quiet. Attack said some. Wait, others. A large craft the size of Washington sat quiet in the sky, and a smaller craft the size of the White House had just landed next to the Washington Monument. Evan slammed a fist into the Oval office table.\n\n\"Enough! A party of twenty armoured men with assault rifles will accompany me and the scientist to the ship, and attempt to communicate with the aliens. I will hear nothing more.\" Evans authority spoke loud, and the room silenced. Some of his advisors looked visibly agitated, but he ignored them and nodded.\n\n\"Dismissed.\"\n\nAn hour and a half later, Evan Smiths helicopter had landed near the craft. His team escorted him towards the craft with weapons raised and safeties off. Once they got close enough to throw a rock at the craft, a large panel in the ship detatched itself and descended down onto the grass, forming a ramp. A group of the aliens walked out in black suits, wearing strange helmets that reminded Evan of a motorcycle helmet. They seemed to be humanoids, with two arms and two legs. The group of aliens walked towards them at an alarmingly fast and determined pace. They got uncomfortably close.\n\n\"That's far enough!\" shouted the captain of the military unit and raised his weapon. They did not respond.\n\n\"Don't fire!\", Evan said. Everyone began shouting and pointing their weapons around. A man opened fire aimed at the sky as a warning. One of the humanoids kept walking forward. It got close enough to Evan that he could see through the visor. It was a she. A human. Evan could see her blonde hair covering her eye slightly. She smiled at him and extended a hand. In it were a golden round object. Evan smiled back at her. He could see in the reflection of her visor his bodyguards reach out and grab him, pulling him backwards. The alien womans body recoiled backwards as the Captain shot her in the chest reapetedly. She fell backwards, blood spraying out of her suit, and her escort party fell one by one as the assault team gunned them down with their rifles. The round object the woman had held in her hand fell to the ground and activated itself. A luminous blue hologram displayed itself in amazing quality infront of Evan and his party. It showed another galaxy. Coordinates. A star. And a planet much like their own. A slideshow began, showing humans smiling, beautiful music playing in the backround. Mountains and great rivers, more beautiful than any on Earth. Evans watched in horror and knew what his bodyguards had done. And it was too late. He looked up and watched as a blue beam emerged from the sky at lightspeed and crashed down somewhere outside Washington. And he watched as the wall of Light came towards him, wider and larger than ten tsunamis, wiping out every building it crossed over, wiping out humanity on Earth." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 600-700 words. Prompt: It is the year 2155, and humanity is beginning interstellar exploration. We discover an alien civilization - and quickly learn that they are previous colonists from Earth." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "We've met an alien species along our intergalactic travels. It's sitting here with me aboard the Mahnug, very calm and relaxed. Captain Maras has given me permission to be the first to interview the species. I lean forward and tap at the translator mic.\n\n\"Test, test. Do you understand me?\" I look at the alien who stares at me. It's wrinkled face reminds me of a sharpei breed of dogs that mother used to raise. Are the wrinkles common or is this an elder of the species? It opens it's eyes, a pure and dark black, causing a wrinkle to be pushed up as though it were a brow. It slowly moves it's head to look at the translator in front of it and raises it's hand from the armchair to the translator. Then it pushes the translator down with a gentle backhand slap.\n\n\"A translator is not necessary, human. And you can refer to me as a 'he'. Your pronouns are very annoying, but I'm glad that you don't wish to offend me with language. Thank you.\" His wrinkle brow softens. Mind reading? That's so cool. So many questions. What is he-\n\n\"We are a species referred to as 'Oegye' in your language.\" He says as his hand slowly moves back to the armrest. He smirks, pushing up more wrinkles so that his cheeks are all smushed looking. \"You're from Earth. We used to call it 'Segye' when we inhabited it.\" His species was on Earth? I mean it makes sense, considering how bountiful it is - water, different species of flora and animals.\n\n\"Yes, Earth was very plentiful, human. We used to harvest leaves in the southern hemisphere. They're poisonous to your kind, but a staple to us and apparently a distant relative species of ours that still lives there. The sloth, you call it.\" That makes sense, watching him nod his head up and down.\n\n\"But we decided to leave, despite a fairly easy life that Earth offered.\" A slight drop in his tone of voice. Why would Oegye leave Earth if living there was easy? I look to him and wait for an answer. But he simply sits and moves his chin down to his chest.\n\nAfter a pause I ask, \"So... why did your kind leave Earth?\" He doesn't move for a moment. Then he lets out a long, drawn out breath. Maybe a sigh?\n\n\"We left because of your species. Your species was growing so quickly and relentlessly. Axes, spears, bows - technology that should have taken milleniums to develop took only centuries. And you hunted without rest, even causing large creatures we called 'Oori' to drop significantly in it's population. We knew that it would only be a matter of time until you found us and attempted to find a use for us to your survival methods.\" He looks up at me, his eyes a pure white and a look of pleading on his wrinkled face.\n\n\"Looking into your mind, it seems that your species has begun conservation efforts for creatures at your mercy.\" He says. It's true, we've been a lot more aware of other life among us.\n\n\"But you've been sent out for new lands, it seems. You've become aware that your growth has become too rapid for Earth.\" He leans back into the chair. That's true too. But there's a sense of fear in his voice.\n\nHe nods. But we're not here to invade. Just find habitable planets. Right? I feel Captain Maras' hand on my shoulder and look behind me.\n\nA squad of soldiers has guns raised on the alien, who has closed his eyes causing his brow wrinkle to lower back to it's original position." } ]