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BintangFortuna

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Bintang Fortuna 2

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: A mysterious mansion has trapped you and a few mysterious guests. When people start dying, it's clear there's a murderer on the loose. However, you remain calm. After all...you're the killer." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Thunder clapped and lightning struck at the same moment the lights went out. An odd coincidence, to be sure, but it gave me a quiet chuckle. I slipped out of my seat unnoticed and floated between the furniture, as I had practiced countless times in the last few weeks. And then I stuck my knife in old man Werthington's back and returned to my seat.\n\nThe lights came back on mere seconds after I'd sat back down. I had expected that. What I did not expect, however, was old man Werthington to remain alive and well. And so I wasnt expecting my panicked expression to be genuine, either. Wasnt a total loss, though--the man I stabbed in his place was my own accomplice, Mister Stone as I knew him. I supposed it just increased my pay day a bit.\n\nBut in order for there to be a payday, the right man would need to die. I opted not to dwell too long on my mistake. It was odd, yes, but nothing was certain in this line of work. Sometimes you need to adapt. Improvise. And I still had a job to do. So while everyone mourned the sudden departure of a guest they'd never even met, I excused myself to the foyer to \"gather my thoughts\" and make a quick phone call.\n\nBut, of course, the line was dead. The five of us had argued on whether to cut the line, but I seemed to remember winning that particular disagreement. Something to argue about later, to be sure. There was no time now. So I quickly developed a half-brained plan and returned to the living room.\n\nThe others had of course discovered the dead phone line by then. Sought to call the cops, naturally. Now they bickered over who had motive to kill the poor man--and discovering in the process that no one truly had motive to care. So they opted to throw a sheet over the poor fellow and continue on with their evening. Amazing what rich folk will ignore when in like company.\n\nThe storm raged on outside and I bided my time. Dinner was served next, our host seated at the end of the long dining table. I planned to excuse myself whenever he decided to do the same. It would be suspicious, but I was short on options. Turned out to be unnecessary, though, as an opportunity presented itself shortly before the third course arrived.\n\nThunder and lightning once more, and once more a loss of lights. Could have been my accomplices, watching from afar, realizing my predicament and giving me another chance. Or it could have actually been the storm. It didnt truly matter. I slipped from my seat and walked quickly and quietly to the end of the table. I lifted the old man's steak knife and shoved it gently into his chest, muffling his moans with my left hand. And then I returned to my seats.\n\nAnd then the lights came on and revealed to the world his personal lawyer dead in his chair.\n\nWell, this was quite a conundrum. The other guests continued their panic, somehow unable to correctly identity mister Werthington as the true target. The decision was made to keep everyone locked in the library until morning when the proper authorities could be contacted. Of course no one suggested how that would occur, but it worked in my favor, so I didnt object.\n\nWell, at half past one, it happened again. Except this time it wasnt me. I stood in the corner if the library next to an unfortunately small historical section and waited. The lights went out once again and I made my move. But I wasnt familiar with this room and bumped into miss Doherty, and fumbled with apologies in the dark until the lights came on. And when they did, mister Franklin was dead on the floor in the middle of the room. This time my concern was entirely genuine.\n\nChaos broke. Guests picked partners to barricade themselves with--choosing only people they trusted entirely. Seemed like a well enough idea. Mister Werthington, by some stroke of luck, chose me. Now, I wasnt sure whether to be thrilled or enraged. On the one hand, this put me in perfect proximity to finally do the deed. On the other, I would be the prime suspect. But it would likely be more suspicious to refuse, then find a way to kill the man, then have him turn up dead the next morning. This way, I could plead my case thusly: why would I be so stupid as to kill the man I was paired with?\n\nNot a perfect plan, but a plan. So I set to it. The guests went their separate ways to various corners of the estate. And I found myself locked in a room with the man I'd been targeting all night long. By three o'clock, I was ready to make my move.\n\nThunder cracked. Lightning struck. And one last time the lights went out.\n\nI thrust my blade in his direction, feeling the resistance of his sternum. I'd hit paydirt. He let out a wet sigh and I felt his body relax. And I leaned forward and whispered in his ear, \"I've been trying to kill you all night, old man.\"\n\nHe then whispered into mine, \"And I've been trying to kill you.\"\n\nAnd then I felt a sharp blinding pain in my side, and couldn't help but laugh.\n\n>Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this and would like to see more of my stuff, check out r/Ford9863. And feel free to leave some advice--I cant improve if I'm never criticized!" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1200-1300 words. Prompt: A deaf woman lipreads a conversation between her roommates who plot to kill her." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The flashing light of my alarm clock pierces my eyelids and pulls me into the world of the awake. I stab my hand out of the covers, slap the snooze button and curl into a ball. I’m not ready to face the world this early on a saturday . The Mary’s, my roommates, are in the living room. I can feel them thumping around. It’s one of the few times that I’m grateful to be deaf. Saturday nights is the Mary’s Karaoke night and they spend every saturday morning practicing their singing, and from what my hearing-enabled friends tell me, they are quite atrocious.\n\n“Loud drunken cats caterwauling to 2000s hits” is how my sister Jackie described them.\n\nI pull my duvet ever tighter around myself and manage to drift back off to sleep.\n\nI peek out the cover and see the alarm clock’s green numbers, ten am, over an hour a sleeping. Funny, only felt like five minutes I was asleep.\n\nMy feet hit the cold wooden floor of the 1960s era apartment and a shiver runs up my spine. Slippers, slippers, where are my slippers? Eventually my feet find them, and my arms find my fuzzy purple bathrobe. But it’s too late, I’m cold all over. Bad way to start the morning.\n\nI emerge into our shared living room. Mary, the shorter one with frizzy hair and pancake makeup, is sitting at the table, a piece of paper in her hand, Marianna is sitting facing her, back to me, and they both look at me for a moment, then go back to ignoring me. Marianna’s long perfectly straight hair drapes over her usual t-shirt from some heavy metal concert from ages post. Honestly, they amount of loud rock concerts they go to I’m amazed they're not as deaf as I am.\n\nA housing computer put the three of us together, and it’s fine, for the most part. The moment the two of them realized their names were, sort of, Mary, they completely bonded like a pair of twin sisters. They started finding all sorts of unremarkable things that they do the same, that then suddenly, somehow takes on a significance.\n\n“OH, my God! You fill your waffles one square at a time too!” Mary squealed the first time they ate breakfast together.\n\n“You curl your hair right to left too! OH… MY... GOD!” Marianna said in the bathroom that same morning.\n\n“OH, my God, you have this CD too??” on and on it went.\n\nTruthfully, I don’t mind them. They pay their rent on time, don’t squabble about utilities, and anytime I want to tune them out, I just turn the other way and I have no idea what they’re saying. It seems to work well for them too.\n\nI grab my morning bowl of Blueberry crunch cereal, orange juice and flop down in the big recliner just opposite the breakfast table to lazily eat and waste time on the internet before I decide to be productive for the day. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Marianna gesticulating in an exasperated manner.\n\nJust past Mary is a large china hutch built into the wall with a full size mirror. I can see Marianna’s lips perfectly and read what she’s saying. So often I purposefully fade into the background that they’re used to treating my like I’m not here.\n\n“Don’t you know your wish is coming true today?” Marianna’s lips say, “Another victim dies tonight.”\n\nThat can’t be right. I didn’t read that right. I’m tired, stayed up too late reading last night and I’m tired. Her lips said something else.\n\nBut I can’t stop watching now. My face is pointed at my phone, but my eyes are locked upward and to the left, staring at the mirror, trying to catch what they’re saying.\n\nMary is talking now and she’s irritated. Her lips say, “You always wanted people to remember you. To leave your mark on society.”\n\nVisions flash in my head. I’m on TV now, having to give an interview and saying the usual cliche, “They seemed so normal, how could I miss this?” while a text scroll at the bottom postulates “Worse than the Columbine shooting?”\n\nThis is how it all starts, isn’t it?\n\nMarianna’s lips start their gumming and say, “If you even try to look the other, I think I could kill this time.”\n\nMy mouth goes clammy. What do I do?\n\nI frantically message my sister, repeat what I just read off their lips. She’s awake and responding back, but slowly typing and retyping her messages. My mouth starts to taste like metal as I’m more scared than I’ve ever been.\n\n“Are you sure they said that? Who are they talking about killing?”\n\nThat’s true. I don’t know who exactly they’re trying to kill. My eyes are locked on them and the only thing that exists in my world is the Mary’s lips.\n\n“Is she really telling lies again? Doesn’t realize she’s in danger?” from Marianna’s lips.\n\nDid they see me sending a message? They must be talking about me. Oh goddess, help me, what do I do?\n\n“That little bitch, she went and told A LIE! Now she will never tell another A LIE!” Mary’s lips responds.\n\nMy legs start trembling. I have to get away. “Me, they’re talking about me! They want to kill me,” is what I want to send my sister. Autocorrect murders my typing and changes it to, “Me, ig hey sarai they want to Dave koro jump!” my hands are shaking so badly.\n\nI look again in time to catch Mary’s lips saying, “The little bitch, she went and she told a LIE! Now she will never tell another.”\n\nThe two of them jump up, and scream in unison “NEVER FUCKING LIE TO ME!!” I can feel the vibrations of their screaming in the room.\n\nI bolt, spilling cereal everywhere.\n\nBack in my room, I wedge a chair against the doorknob and skype my sister. She’ll know what to do, she has to know what to do. From the living room, rhythmic thumping like drums in the jungle starts pulsing throughout the apartment. They’re psyching themselves up for a murder frenzy. Mercifully, my sister appears on my tiny phone screen. I can’t type anything, and my hands start gesticulating, madly signing, “They want to kill me. I read them talking about me being a bitch that needs to die.”\n\n“Slow down, your signs are too fast, I can’t keep up,” she signs back.\n\nMy hands repeat themselves, slower, more precisely, tears are streaming down my face I’m so scared.\n\n“OK,” Jackie signs, “You have to get out of there. I’ll call the police, send them to your place. You have to get out of there.”\n\nI can see in the way she signs that Jackie is just as scared as I am. Now I’m even more frightened.\n\nI nod through the tears and sign that I’m leaving right now. I just have to get outside.\n\nMy bedroom window is old, painted shut and a piece of shit that’s keeping me from living! I grab the first heavy thing I can get my hands on - some ugly metal art project turned bookshelf end - and hurl it through the glass window.\n\nThe Mary’s have heard this, and I can feel them knocking on the door, but I’m already out on the rusting dilapidated fire escape in my robe and slippers. I really wish I had gotten dressed first, but at least I’m alive." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Hell is unleashed on Earth, but Satan's armies were not prepared for humanity's modern weapons and technology. Now humanity has invaded the depths of Hell, and the demons are fighting a losing battle." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It really should have been harder. If a man tells you he's walked through Hell to get here, you naturally assume it was awful. I served two tours in Afghanistan and one in Iraq - those were Hell. This? Shit, this is a barbecue weekend back home.\n\nThis shitstorm started six months ago. A giant crack opened up in Kansas, of all places and demons started pouring out. Literal demons. From Hell. Horns, tails, big nasty teeth - the whole kit. They rampaged through a couple small farm towns and did some real damage. Of course, the National Guard shows up. They're thinking it's gonna be Hell on Earth. They've got every gun they can put their hands on. They're even accepting some good ol' boys who showed up with Daddy's 12-gauge. It's crazy. Everyone of those men were praying as hard as they ever had.\n\nThe whole thing was over in nine hours. The beachhead invasion was turned back in time to get home and watch yourself on the news. Out of a couple thousand troops, they had two casualties. One guys had a heart attack and the other one fell down an incline and snapped his neck.\n\nTurns out the demons were still using military tactics that were old from when Moses was in short pants. Lots of spears and swords, not so many M-4s or Apaches. They would line up like the ancient Greeks - a big wall of targets marching toward you. Our guys mowed them down without hesitation. To be honest, when I saw the video, I kind of felt bad for the demons. They thought they were bad ass and they didn't even last a day. It was frankly embarrassing.\n\nAnyway, the Joint Chiefs decided that it wouldn't do to have a portal to Hell in the middle of the country. A bunch of nerds looked at it but couldn't figure out how to close it. They said it's not actually a hole into the middle of Earth. Some kind of 'wormhole' thing or something. I don't know.\n\nSince we couldn't close it and we couldn't very well just let more of those jerkoffs set fire to Topeka, we had to secure the other end. We were going to invade Hell. Every single soldier, sailor, airman, and marine that was assigned spent hours confessing to any man of the cloth they could catch. The brass actually had to import clergy from as far away as Albuquerque. We had a lot of sins to confess.\n\nOn D-Day, we all said our prayers and marched into Hell. We found out that the jackasses the Kansas National Guard took out were the all-stars and now we were fighting the bench warmers. Some of them looked scary as shit. There was one asshole that was a solid thirty feet tall. He scared the hell out of us with the giant flaming sword. An RPG to the face and couple of white phosphorus rounds to the midsection and suddenly he wasn't so scary. Also, it turns out that giant demon piss is just exactly as nasty as you'd expect.\n\nWe established a beachhead and started taking territory. We've been prosecuting the mission since then. The Enemy has sent diplomats to sue for peace. The brass are really on the fence. I mean, the President is up for re-election in a few months and I'm pretty sure he thinks a logo of \"The President who defeated Hell!\" Would look awesome. Shit, I still ain't voting for the guy." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: An ailing alien race reaches Earth seeking sanctuary from a greater threat, only to find the Earth embroiled in a global war, human against artificial intelligence." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "XXX President's Final Log XXX\n\nIt had been thirteen months since the A.I went online. The world had changed...People always thought it would be Us, the Government, that would collect all the data and keep track of everyone. No one ever thought that it would be the phones and tablet O.S' instead.\n\nTechnology no longer was an asset to humanity. It had became too self aware of the destruction and disease that humanity was to the world. Humans had become too self loathing and destructive. Unaware of life and the fragility of it; humans were a cancer on the face of the Earth. Cities from L.A to New York and Detroit on one half of globe to places like Shanghai and Bangkok on the opposite. We plagued the beautiful surface of this planet. Our own personal rotting cesspools of murder, corruption, trash, and filth. Everything humanity touched crumbled to ash under our finger tips.\n\nIt was shortly after the fall of China and Russia that the ships started arriving. They were alien. Humanity as a whole saw this as hope. Our resolve strengthen and we fought against the A.I. Movement slowly became impossible. The A.I used the nation's traffic cameras and cell metadata to geo-tag locations of the world leaders and tried to kill us all as fast as possile.\n\nSadly, the A.I saw the Aliens as friends also and in the death blow to Humanity, the Aliens needed help and We couldn't provide it. No amount of begging nor diplomacy was going to challenge the outcome of their partnership.\n\nThe Aliens were fighting their own civil war against the Hagrathrons, an interstellar sentient super cluster in the Andromeda Galaxy. With the human race being terminated with extreme ease with the aid of the Aliens along side with the A.I, I believe that the Earth is about to be cured of the infectious cancer known as humanity.\n\nNo this doesn't scare me.\n\nBut I do not wish to die, no thing wishes to die.\n\nBut...It is the right thing to do.\n\nHumans are violent creatures. We claim to love everyone and praise individuality but then shun differences and shut out those that look different than us. Hippocratic cells that became sentient against all odds only to be wiped out by their own lack of intelligence. With this last acknowledgement I say Farewell. Everything will be over soon.\n\nWith Liberty, and Justice For All.\n\nXXX End Log XXX\n\nAs I pluck this final entry out on a beautiful antique Underwood No. 5, I can hear the fire alarms and tornado alarms rise in the distance. My ear drums ache as the A.I turns the frequency louder and louder. I don't attempt to put in my custom protective hearing. They don't help anymore. It feels like a ball-peen hammer to my inner skull as I sit here. I feel a pop deep within my nasal cavity as warm liquid slowly drips out of my nose and off my lower lip. My fingers wipe away the blood as I stand up and stagger slowly to the door. I need to gaze upon the green grass and blue skies once more. The high pitch noise is all that consumes me. My right eye twitches and rolls hard back and to the right as my optical nerve pops. First sign the sirens are getting to me. My fingers leave traces of bright red blood on the pearl white door frame as I collapse through it. I arch my back to see the bright blue sky high above me, free of pollution. A slow smile creeps along my face, rolling onto my back I gaze deep into the sky as I heard the deep crunch resonate one last time and pop deep within my skull.........\n\nTo anyone that read this whole thing. Thank you. :)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 700-800 words. Prompt: Upon discovering the internet, aliens can't decide whether they want to contact humanity or not." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“We came all this way,” the navigator spoke to nobody in particular, “just to turn back now?”\n\nThe other two in the room focused intently on the screen, as the images flickered and dissipated, never there in their entirety, but offering brief glimpses into another world.\n\nThe vessel lingered on the edge of the Milky Way Galaxy, perched comfortably in a gaseous nebula. It was quite a journey. It began with a scientist noticing a few short sound waves resonating on the equipment. Upon investigating further it was determined that a thriving society was located quite a distance away. It wasn’t the first time a new civilization was discovered across the Universe, but this one was different. The limited research able to be conducted from such a substantial distance away was offering promising results on the advanced status of the society.\n\nAs the journey progressed the data researchers on board began picking up signals on an odd antiquated radio-wave system. It allowed them to access a data system used by this society. Back closer to home the data was far fewer and less clear, but now the data collection was inundated with new information. The purpose of this system of storing information by the native inhabitants was not immediately clear. There were so many differing subjects, poorly organized and often repetitive, not to mention many times contradictory, in this seemingly endless maze.\n\nIt paused before continuing, “Contacting was promising before, when we didn’t have this level of access to information. With our understanding of this place now…”\n\nWith an air of authority one announced, “We have a moral obligation to our citizens to ensure their safety. We also want to do what is best for the advancement of our society. We must determine the risks and advantages of contact and prepare accordingly.”\n\nYes, initially there was a strong sense of hope that the two civilizations could peacefully cooperate.\n\nThe last of those in the room, operating the screen, clicked a few buttons and paused on one flickering image, suspending it it for all to see, “The newest data.”\n\nAll eyes peered on the screen.\n\nIt was an image of another creature. It seems that the dominant creatures in this civilization are unhealthily obsessed with it. Every other new data source linked back to more data regarding this creature.\n\nIntellectual discussion about the status of their individual governing bodies. Image of bizarre creature. Information regarding the efficiency of differing routines for physical health. Video of bizarre creature. Methods of combining different locally grown organisms for energy consumption. How to provide for bizarre creature. What to feed bizarre creature. How to love bizarre creature.\n\n“Such an intricate and intelligent society. But what is this thing?” The data researcher said. “So slight and innocuous, integrated its image so effortlessly into the lives of the citizens without so much as raising a question. Why? Or better yet, how? How has this creature gained this level of unfettering commitment from another more sophisticated and advanced species with so little effort. What is it that possesses them?”\n\nThe authoritative one grimaced, “They feed it, and bathe it, and entertain it. It offers them seemingly nothing of the sort.” It continues analyzing the image. “Is it mind control? Is it the true dominant species? Are we at risk if we attempt to communicate?”\n\n“Why else would such a developed species resort to worshiping something so less advanced? The creature doesn’t appear to value the dominant species whatsoever, resorting so much as to disrespect them in their very presence, while making eye contact,” retorted the navigator.\n\n“I don’t know,” the data researcher said, “It seems, so, fluffy. So, snugly. The creature just needs care and attention and..,” shock stiffened its body.\n\n“It’s not safe here. We must leave!” yelled the authoritative one. The navigator rushed to the control panel and frantically began to start the sequence for the return trip home. The vessel streaked across the galaxy, over the planet with the terrifying creature, and towards home.\n\nSnap! Snap! “Awwww, who’s a cutie!” The young woman put down her cell phone after uploading the images online. “Wanna belly rub? How about a treat?” The cat plopped down and began meowing. After the attention was over and the human went away the cat gracefully went to its usual spot- the windowsill. Up in the night sky, amongst the sparkling stars, streaked an odd white glow. The cat raised its head and pricked its ears and with a twinkling in its eyes...purred." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: You are a powerful mage trapped in our world. You are incredibly excited when you see an advertisement for a Magic tournament. You don’t realize the ad’s for a card game until it’s much too late." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Estelle was more excited than she had been in a long time. She had thought she would never see another mage since coming to this magically barren world. This tournament, this so called magical gathering, was the best news she had seen in over a year.\n\nShe had been able to wear her robes and carry her staff for the first time in months, and was eager to put her skills against the mages of this world. What kind of spells would they use? She imagined they would be experts of efficient casting, and could probably work wonders with the sparse mana of this world.\n\nWhen she entered the tournament grounds, she was confused. It was a small shop lined with colorful boxes and statues, with elaborate banners pinned to the wall. The counter was made of glass, and housed multitude of cards with designs she did not recognize. A number of people were gathered in the back of the shop, huddled around white tables made if a material she had learned to call plastic.\n\nThe place was far too small to house a proper mage duel, and she could not sense the presence of a teleportation circle. Or any kind of magic at all. She stormed over to the rotund youth behind the counter.\n\n\"You. Shopkeep.\" She said firmly.\n\nThe man turned and his eyes bulged. She had been experiencing a reaction like that. Back in her world, she had been considered quite attractive. In this one, she was beautiful enough to make men obey her without needing even a basic charm spell. Which was good, because she absolutely hated charm spells.\n\n\"Uh, y-yes? How, uh, how can I help you miss?\" The man asked. His eyes were practically glued to her chest. An annoyance, to be sure, but not an insurmountable one.\n\n\"I am here for the magic tournament. Where is it?\"\n\n\"Tournament? Oh, right, yeah, the tournament. Sure, it's right over there.\" He pointed to the gathering around the tables. \"It hasn't started yet, so there's plenty of time to sign up.\"\n\nWith a goal other than her figure, the shopkeeper scrambled to pull out a hard plastic book. He opened it to a page lined with a smattering if names.\n\n\"Okay, just sign your name here, pay the $10 entry and you're good. Hey, uh, nice costume, by the way. You dressed up as a new plainswalker or something?\"\n\n\"Plainswalker? I have no idea what you are talking about. And this is no costume. These are robes of arcane might the likes of which you have never seen.\"\n\n\"Uh, okay? So, are you gonna sign up?\"\n\n\"Of course. My magic will destroy all challengers.\"\n\nShe signed her name and, using some of the local currency, paid her way into the tournament. With that done, she readied her staff for a long overdue battle.\n\n\"Say, uh...Estelle?\" The man asked, looking her recently written name, \"What kind of deck are you playing? If you don't mind my asking. I see you as a control deck player. Maybe white and blue?\"\n\n\"I have no knowledge of these decks, but I am the keeper of fire, earth, and iron. My magic will raze my opponents to the ground.\"\n\n\"Ah, mono-red aggro then. That's cool. Well, good luck.\"\n\n\"I need no luck.\" She turned sharply and headed to meet her opponents.\n\nShe saw them playing with cards. Each of the combatants held a deck of cards of the same style housed behind the counter. The shopkeeper had asked about her deck. Perhaps these people used a form of talisman magic locked in the cards? That would certainly allow them to get around the thin mana. They could simply make the card and let it gather power over time. Not useful in her world, but in this one it was indeed the best option. She was not worried though. She would burn them all to ash.\n\nHer presence gathered an appropriate amount of attention. Those not engrossed in their magicless warm up matches were instantly drawn to her. It was no wonder. She was the only one dressed for a proper mage duel.\n\nThe crowd, mostly men, asked her numerous questions. About her attire. About her deck. About her in general. Several of them were activity trying to court her. Not that she could blame them, but nobody there was up to her considerable standards.\n\n\"Hey, uh, you, uh, you up for a quick game before the tournament?\" One of the bolder men asked.\n\n\"Game?\" She replied with a raised eyebrow. \"You mean a practice duel?\"\n\n\"I, uh, I guess.\"\n\nHer mind churned. Why would they ask her such a thing? It was obvious she used a different style of magic than they did. Was he really willing to risk his precious talismans? And he had called it a game. Then it struck her harder than one of her earth spells. Was this just that? A game? She sensed no magic coming from the cards, and all the text on them was in the local language, rather than magic script. And for a battle, even a trial one, there did seem to be an unusual number of rules in place.\n\nShe turned to one of the more tolerable men. \"You.\" She declared. \"Tell me the nature of this tournament.\"\n\n\"Uh, sure? It's a standard format MTG tournament. Pretty sure it's best two out of three, double elimination. Pretty normal, I think.\"\n\n\"And it is a game, not a true battle?\"\n\n\"I...yeah? I mean, it'd be kind of hard to fight with a bunch of Magic cards.\"\n\n\"I heard a fight broke out at another tournament a few months ago.\" Another man said. \"Like, the cops got called and everything.\"\n\nEstelle felt her will break. A game. She had been lured to this place with the promise of a true test if her magical powers, and it was a game. A children's thing made to pretend to be mages. But of course it would be like that. There was almost no mana in this world. How could she have been so stupid. Now she was there, out some of her limited money, and with nothing to show for it.\n\nHer face hardened. No, no she would not be defeated by a mere card game. She was Estelle, keeper of fire, earth and iron. Her magic had destroyed castles and leveled cities. She would not go down without a fight.\n\n\"You.\" She pointed to the man she had addressed earlier. \"You will teach me the way to play this...MTG.\"\n\n\"Uh, okay, but didn't you sign up for the tournament? You should already know how to play.\"\n\n\"You will not question me. Teach me the ways of this game, give me the means to play it and you shall be rewarded. Fail, and you shall regret every moment you are in this building.\"\n\nShe would show them. She would show them what a real mage could do. Even if she was using cards to do so, she would be a mage." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: in a fantasy world, humans all went into exile after a war pushed them out. Over millions of years they had somehow devolved into 'Goblins'. This frankly isn't good when you're a time traveling human." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I hid the Ring of Time in my pocket when I arrived at the human’s last shrine, two million years in the future.\n\nIt was deserted, dust covered and ruined beyond belief. I left just as the Culling had begun, a deserter of my fellow countrymen. I had one charge left in my Ring, enough to get back with any useful intelligence against our enemy, the Scourge.\n\nScourge were pure evil, parasites that sucked your soul out of your body through your eye sockets. It was called the kiss of death.\n\n“Where are they,” I said, half to myself, half to the interior of the shrine time had forgotten.\n\n“Shhhh!” hissed a faraway voice. “You will attract unwanted attention…”\n\nI made out a hunched shadowy form in the distance by a dilapidated marble column. It moved toward me and revealed itself. The face was utterly abhorrent, the nose a jokingly placed sac of skin hanging above a crooked smile that looked somewhat human, in a remote way. His skin was pale acid green, hair scraggly and jutting out from ears, nose and jowl in the most unpleasing manner.\n\nI stumbled back, partially due to the “man’s” frightening disposition. “Who are you?” was all I could manage.\n\n“Thorny. But friends call me Thor.”\n\n“Hello Thor. I’m Seth,” I said.\n\n“You look familiar. I’ve seen you somewhere.”\n\nI shook my head. I was not getting anywhere with this creature, and sand was falling through he hour glass.\n\n“Ye, ye, on the ceiling of the other shrine. Folk like you were painted, but it’s more o’ a myth.”\n\n“I can assure you I’m no myth. Where are the Scourge?” I asked, attempting to wring out something useful.\n\n“The wha’?”\n\n“Soul suckers.”\n\n“They keep us in hiding… from the beginning of recorded time. We run away when they are near.”\n\n“So they still rule the land… not surprising. And you never discovered the key to their destruction?”\n\n“And ye did?” said the foul man, spitting on the ashen ground.\n\n“That’s kind of why I’m here. A fact finding mission. A great wizard entrusted me to the Time Walk, because I’m the only one who has ever…”\n\n“Quiet!” said the man. “Do you not feel the dread? The presence of evil?”\n\nIndeed, the air felt thick with cold terror. A soul sucker was coming. I glanced around the shadowy interior of the shrine, nothing but unmoving columns and broken statuary. A loud moan hovered through the space, sending the ugly little man behind a statue. “Hide,” he whispered.\n\n“NO,” I laughed. “This is why I was chosen. Why I am here.”\n\nThe Scourge screamed into the space, a skeletal bird like creature adorned in a blood red robe flickering with streams of flame, and carrying a chain with skulls hooked by the eye sockets.\n\nThe soul sucker screeched at me, and lunged for my face. I stared into the black abysses of its eye sockets, the beak of its nose bearing down on my forehead.\n\nIt began its torpid sucking action, like a mother bird feeding its young in hideous reverse.\n\nI smiled. “Right where I wanted you…”\n\nI grabbed the Scourge by its head and twisted first clockwise, just to trick it, then contra-clockwise to finish the job. The head twisted off like a screw lubed in whale oil.\n\nThe Scourge fell to the ground in a heap, and the little man gasped. “How…”\n\n“Simple, my little friend. Practice. Now show this other shrine of yours. I have a feeling my answers will be there.”\n\n“But Scourge are everywhere, sir…”\n\n“Die in the light, or live in the dark. It is your choice.”\n\nI offered my hand, and the little goblin man took it, tremblingly." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: You are an alien conspiracy theorist that believes that the humans from stories and movies really exist, but nobody believes your \"proof\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The first thing they told us on our tour of Earth was not to touch the humans. You can look but you can’t touch -- they had problems in the past with touching. The next thing, you must stay in South East Asia. Sorry, the Americas and Europe were closed, possibly for good.\n\nSometimes I do think I’m crazy. My ex-wife Sherry had something along those lines when she slammed the door to leave for her sister's house across town, that had been five years ago. Now I sit with my clippings, you know, all crazy like -- but I’m not crazy. We, Sherry and I, had visited Earth during our honeymoon. You know it, cheesedick little planet in the milky way system -- a few big land masses and some ice. I expected a little love-making, a few nice cocktails in Ko Samui, maybe something more but not what came about, not this. I stumbled onto something big.\n\nIt was my honeymoon, I had just left my Sherry alone in the condo and was heading down to Hat Rin beach to do some people watching. I caught the glimpse of some car lights which I thought to be odd. These were perhaps the first real cars I had seen on the island; most of the locals used motorbikes given the condition of the roads. I skirted the perimeter of a parking lot until I came to a spot where some bushes stood to give me a bit of cover, about fifty feet from the road and a hundred to them. Between the leaves, feeling a bit foolish being hidden, I spied. I realized that what I thought were building lights were actually big spotlights, probably to keep the area nice and lit for whatever deal was going down.\n\nI heard someone yell a codeword that sounded like “action” but I wasn’t sure. That’s when I saw the muzzle flashes of the pistols and the people running in all directions. Clap. Clap. Clap. It seemed like people were falling to their death and shaking about, or they were thrown into the air by some powerful explosion that I was unable to see. Concussion weapons probably, something from off planet.\n\nScared as I was of being shoot I kept my head down. I stayed down for minutes, no sound of a police car -- where was law enforcement? Is there law enforcement in Thailand? When I looked up a group of men and a few women were cleaning up the scene. The people who were shot had been dragged off.\n\nWhat a peculiar sight. I dared not go nearer but I didn’t want to leave. There had obviously been a murder of some kind and I wanted to get closer but there were an inexplicably large number of people milling around in the light.\n\nIt felt like a few hours had gone by, I saw a few of the cars pull out and the other lights go down. In small groups the people left as though nothing had happened. Amazing. The perfect crime.\n\nI followed the last group of people on foot. I was afraid that would see me but I couldn’t let them disappear forever. I couldn’t make out their faces and they rarely turned back but to say something quickly to someone while walking. I could tell what they were wearing as they turned onto the main street in which the condo access was located. Mostly black outfits and some rugged looking leather get-ups. I thought they would walk into the condos near my house but they stopped short at the “Green Mango,” a sloppy and overpriced nightclub. “Nicest in town” the human with the cheap watches had said.\n\nThe club was mostly empty at that time of night. I figured I would blend in either way, even if the floor was less occupied, you know just a guy at the bar. They noticed immediately, I must have been looking at them too long or something because one of the men, he was wearing ripped up clothes and looked like he had been freshly wiped of blood.\n\n“What would you like to have signed,” he said.\n\n“What?”\n\n“You’ve been looking over, I know you want something signed -- you’ve been giving us that look for a few minutes; just lurking at that table?”\n\nI panicked, they must have known something. Signed? Was this another word like action? A word that could get me killed. The man was short, very short. He had brown hair and clean face. He didn’t look like a killer, maybe someone military but almost too short. I had been a fool to follow them and now I was wrapped up in a deal gone wrong and maybe they thought I was somehow connected to the men they killed.\n\n“Here, I signed this coaster. See here, Tom Cruise.”\n\n“Oh, OK. Thank you.”\n\nOh Jesus. Can I just walk away? The idea had seemed crazy but what else was I supposed to do. Maybe he thought I was a messenger. Maybe I can walk with whatever this signature is and grab sherry to depart on the next shuttle off earth. This was deep. I was in deep.\n\nI froze. Smiling, just smiling like an idiot. I felt one foot move as though I wouldn’t be able to step down once it was in the air. Then the next, and again the first, and the next. I was walking away.\n\n“No thank you? What’s with this guy? I hate fans”\n\nJust keep walking. There’s nothing more to do, let them shoot me.\n\nBut the bullet never came.\n\nI got back to the room and Sherry freaked out. She didn’t believe what had happened. Called me crazy. Moved out to her sisters.\n\nI guess I should have let it go once we got back to Gerald-IV. I thought I would let it go, but then it happened. I was walking down the street in Shinatown near OIve3asvsrf3 Street, through the black market with counterfeit electronics, when I saw it. Yes, clear as day. There was the leader of the killers. The man from the Green Mango. Action. Signature. The code man.\n\nI felt an overwhelming fear that I was going mad. Was this just my imagination? I plucked the picture and case from the shelf.\n\n“Do you know this human!” I said.\n\n“Yeah, of course. Tom Cruise, super famous on Earth. Obscure shit, though, not something you would watch for pleasure.”\n\n“No! No! This man is a killer! A killer!”\n\n“Either buy it or put it back, I don’t got all day buddy.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You can summon characters with all their powers from any book or film, but you can't control them. After getting rejected by your secret love and ignored by your hero, you decide to summon a villain instead." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The man I summoned stood in the center of room. He was an average looking man in build, but made up for it with strong and handsome features, who wore a tailored black suit that looked expensive. Possibly more expensive than my own house. The shoes he wore were shined and flawless. His hair was dark and short with hints of silver, making him appear to be middle aged. He was rather unassuming, but one thing that stuck out was in place of a necktie, he wore a noose. His dark eyes cast a slow look as he ascertained the sudden situation. As he did so, the glow of the intricate rune work and Latin spellings on the silver and iron infused circle he stood in faded away and gave way to darkness. I clapped my hands and the basement lights came on.\n\nI had not thought of what I should say. There was no doubt in my mind the summoning would fail, but there was still an inkling of doubt that prevented me from reaching that train of thought. So, I did what anyone would do when faced with a situation like this. I raised my hand, waved, and gave out an awkward, \"Hello.\"\n\nAs soon as the word left my mouth I found myself slammed against the concrete that made up the basement walls and covered in what appeared to be a living shadow. My vision went black with specks of red and the air was knocked out of me. I was not unconscious, but I was definitely in pain. After a few moments to catch my breath, I opened my mouth.\n\n\"I-Is this really necessary?\", I asked, a bit muffled. Each word sent pounding claps of thunder throughout brain. I shook my head to get through the pain.\n\nThe shadow receded around my face, allowing me to not only speak much more clearly, but for the man to speak to me as well.\n\nHe'd already put on a business-like smile and spread his hands out to speak.\n\n\"You're quite the brave one, summoning me like this.\" he said with the faint amused hint of a British accent. \"It takes real talent. However, talent alone won't spare your life. Is there a reason why I should not let my friend here slit your throat until you bleed out?\"\n\nI squirmed. I never squirm. Letting out a breath to calm myself, I then spoke.\n\n\"Nicodemus Archleone. It is a pleasure to meet you face to face.\" I said, trying to sound as sincere as I could. \"You are in my home as my guest. I apologize for the sudden invitation, but I must needs speak to you.\"\n\nNicodemus did something unexpected. He laughed. When he did, the shadow on me promptly pressed some kind of shadow blade against my neck. It drew some blood.\n\n\"I should kill you right now for your arrogance.\" The shadow pressed the blade against my neck with a bit more force. \"However, you have offered your hospitality and it wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to refuse.\"\n\nThe shadow then receded, causing me to fall to my knees. I saw it form near Nicodemus' feet and became nothing more than his own shadow, but I knew what it was.\n\nStanding, I motioned towards the basement stairs.\n\n\"The basement is no place to speak.\" I said, moving towards them. \"I've already prepared food and beverages. Please, join me.\"\n\nI didn't know what to expect, but I did know one thing. I was going to make those two regret turning me away. All I needed was a simple silver coin." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 700-800 words. Prompt: Turns out aliens can't practice to get better. When they find out that humans have this ability, they enslave them. This goes poorly for the aliens." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The following is a true tale, and a cautionary one.\n\nI must start by sharing an uncomfortable truth that many might find surprising. Humans are not native to earth. We are, or at least were, unwilling immigrants to this beautiful planet. Millenia ago, another species ruled earth much as humans do now. The name of the species has been long lost to history, but for our purposes we will call them the Originals. The Originals were an extraordinary and extremely accomplished society, and it has long been a wish of mine to see their society in person. A foolish wish, of course, considering they have not existed in 10,000 years.\n\nThere are many things about the Originals that fascinate me but one particularly interesting fact was how they learned. It was very different than how we learn. When an Original saw a new skill or concept they understood it and could use it immediately. No practice or study necessary. Practice, in fact, was pointless. It was not only unnecessary for learning but it also did not help them to improve. Originals were not perfect at everything, they were just immediately as good as they would ever be.\n\nThat’s not to say that Originals never got better. Of course they did. The ability of an Original to perform most tasks existed on a bell curve over the course of their lifetime. When they were very young they performed tasks at a low level, they peaked in performance near the middle of their life, and they slowly declined as they aged. Each year, on the day of their birth, the ability of an Original would shift in accordance to their age.\n\nThis also does not mean that all Originals had the same amount or type of ability. There was great and beautiful variance within the population. The ability of an Original to perform a specific task existed on a bell curve that was higher or lower than those of their peers.\n\nThis system of skill and knowledge development served the Originals well. Over time, they not only grew to dominate the earth but also developed interstellar travel, which is a feat we have yet to match. It was during their interstellar travel that they first encountered humans. To say that we were primitive compared to the Originals would be a gross understatement. They could travel between the stars and we were still using rocks as tools.\n\nWe were one of the first alien lifeforms that the Originals encountered during their travels, and they were excited to meet us. They had many things they wanted to share with us and were disappointed when we were initially unable to understand or perform what they taught us. Then, they saw something that struck them as quite peculiar. The humans got better with repetition. The more a human performed a task, the better they were at it. With this insight, the Originals saw a value in humans they had not seen before.\n\nThe Originals took humanity and enslaved it. Humans were primitive and easy to control, and they could be taught to perform menial or boring tasks. For the first several thousand years after humanity was brought to earth, this was a great boost for the Originals. The new, cheap, and teachable resource made Original life much easier and the rate of development, both social and technological, increased significantly. As time moved along the Originals taught humans to do increasingly sophisticated tasks.\n\nUnfortunately, at least from the perspective of the Originals, there was a flaw in the system that they did not see until it was far too late. The gap between the ability of the humans and the ability of the Originals began to decrease at an exponential rate. There wasn’t necessarily a difference in aptitude, but the ability of the humans to practice allowed them to learn at a much faster rate than the Originals. Over time the humans began to resent their role in society and soon had the ability to overpower the Originals. Humans were now the most powerful force on earth, with a will to control their own destiny. For all of their great achievements, the fall of the Originals happened quite quickly. Humans became the dominant species on earth and have maintained that position until today.\n\nThat is the true tale, and here is the cautionary note:\n\nHumanity is on the cusp of being involved in another takeover remarkably similar to the first. Only this time, humanity is playing the role of the Originals and technology is the enslaved creature learning at a rate exponentially faster than our own." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: A villain is threatening the city. Unfortunately all the heroes are busy saving the world, their sidekicks are currently occupied as well and the other employees at the hero HQ are frozen in fear. This leaves you, the janitor, to defeat them." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jones hefts his mop like a double bladed battle-axe, still dripping blood - or cleaning fluid. He approaches through the rubble of the street, the front of the Starbucks bending over in a long arch, like a giant greeting a child.\n\nA stray blueberry bagel sits in the chaos. Jones munches on it, slightly sad it isn’t toasted.\n\nThe Wendy’s is in similar state, and the McDonald’s and Taco Bell that follow. The racket escalates as Jones walks. The smoke of burning fires becomes more potent.\n\nOn the corner of Clemont and Vernon Street, Jones sees Destruction Man for the first time. He howls with laughter as he indiscriminately tosses a stick of dynamite here, a pipe bomb there.\n\nJones crouches beside Taco Bueno as he formulates a plan. Head on attack will never work. He makes his way through the broken window of Taco Bueno and palms his head when he notices the front door is unlocked. His hands already scratched by the glass, he cursed his stupidity.\n\nHe stops to mop the Taco Bueno before moving on. Always one to take pride in his work, he uses proper detergent and soaks the floor generously before mopping. He is, of course, careful not to step in the freshly mopped floor, and leaves through the back door, into an alley.\n\nThe laughter is now louder. Destruction Man’s cries split the air as bombs find themselves in various cubbies.\n\nTaco Bueno shudders and collapses. Jones snaps; the floor had been textbook. He could still imagine the swishing pattern of his mop head scrubbing the beautiful cheap tiles of Taco Bueno’s lobby.\n\nNow, Jones approaches slowly. Carefully. Methodically. He stops many times, pressing his ear into the ground. Destruction Man is near the exit of the alley. If he waits, perhaps he can catch him unawares.\n\nIf he can get a really good solid whack, maybe he could take Destruction Man down. Maybe the first blow would stun him, and he’d keep going. A dull tonk would sound as the wooden poll fell into his skull again and again. Fluid would leak from his ears. His eyes would bulge and then still. The white would fade to light gray.\n\nJones approaches so, so slowly. Destruction Man’s back is to the alley exit. Jones sees him, and creeps even slower.\n\nDestruction Man hurls an explosive like a Hail Mary. The wide receiver does not catch it. Bank of America embraces the earth in its natural form once more: clumps of concrete, rebar jutting in intermittent intervals.\n\nJones is nearly on top of him. He can smell the stench of gasoline. He feels the heat of surrounding fires.\n\nJones hefts the mop. He raises it and lets it fall with all the force of a million men. The wooden instrument lands with extreme prejudice on Destruction Man’s neck. Jones is proud, the blow should knock his head clean off.\n\nDestruction Man slaps his neck, as though a mosquito bit him.\n\nHe turns around and regards Jones with surprise. His eyebrow raises.\n\n“Oh, hello.” Destruction Man says. “Was there a bug on me? I didn’t get it.”\n\nHe holds out his hand, utterly devoid of a smashed insect.\n\nJones does not find a word to say.\n\nDestruction Man shrugs as Jones looks on in shock.\n\n“Well, be careful, man. This is no place for civilians. The heroes will be here any second, you don’t wanna get caught up in the crossfire.”\n\nDestruction Man grips a grenade pin in his teeth. He rips it loose like a tiger and lobs it at YMCA." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: nobody may deny you even the most ridiculous request. You, however are a massive pervert and have grandiose plans for the world." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was pretty quick for me to figure out my power. People went from not listening to the 5’3” man to obeying everything I said, even a joke.\n\nOrdering a camera man to get me on TV was pretty easy, and from there, saying to the National Audience, “You will vote for me as your president” won me the election pretty quick. I was the best damn public speaker of all time.\n\nWithin a year, the country was mine.\n\nI was sitting at my desk in the Oval Office when it hit me, I shouldn’t just be using this to spread my ideology to everyone, I could use this power for better desires. I started the biggest marketing campaign of all time. I was looking for 6 women under 25, who were fertile and adept at sex, while STD free. I had to retract my offer after an hour, I had already gotten thousands of applicants.\n\nI assigned a team to categorize them in various categories. Height, weight, breast size, attractiveness (using some parameters set by me) skin color, and hair color.\n\nFrom there, I was able to select the volunteers I wanted most off nude body shots.\n\nI picked 6, and had them flown to Washington D.C.\n\nFirst to arrive was Jane. A 5’4” brunette girl with C cups and a nice ass.\n\nNext were Tina and Margaret. Tina was a small ginger girl with perky breasts and freckles.\n\nMargaret was 5’9” and was very curvy, her ass was magnificent and her wavy blonde hair framed her face perfectly.\n\nDriving in from Baltimore was Kathleen (Kate for short) who was a petite Asian, but piqued my interest in the name of diversity.\n\nFlying in next was Bella. Bella was a black girl with a small ass and tits, but was very flexible, as was proven in a file attached to her profile.\n\nFinally, from the West coast was Hannah. The slender girl with black hair. She didn’t have much in the way of sexual attractiveness, but her glasses and nerdy look turned me on.\n\nI sat all six of them down in a room and gave them a contract. They would be used as my sex slave to conceive a child, and would remain imprisoned for the next year until the child was born, when they would reside in my residence as my subservient wives.\n\nAll quickly signed, and stripped nude at my request. I ordered my secret service to bring me rope, and then leave and establish a perimeter. When they left, I stripped and neatly folded my clothes before sitting back in the chair before selecting my first.\n\nI pointed at Bella, and she stood up and walked to my chair. She gave me head until my 9 inch penis was fully erect. I watched her struggle with the length before pushing her head back off my cock.\n\nI laid down on the floor and told her to ride me. She squatted, giving me a great view of her perky tits and well toned abs. She slowly lowered herself onto my cock, and let out a moan as her lips were parted by my head. She worked her way up and down my shaft, going further and taking more of the length each time. Eventually, she slid down and slowly pushed me into her G spot. She said “oh yes” and then started riding harder, pleasuring herself on my cock. I felt her pussy lips sliding up and down my cock, now slick from the juices in her pussy. I was fine with her pleasuring herself for the time being, but when I commanded her to stop, she did and she said “I’m saddened to stop pleasuring the two of us so soon. What would you like next Mr. President?”\n\n“On your hands and knees facing the others.” I said, and she obliged. I admired her from behind, her slim but athletic form was magnificent, and then I put it in her.\n\nShe let out a gasp as I pushed my way DEEP inside her, and started thrusting in and out. She eventually came from the pleasure I accidentally gave her while I used her like the breeding stock she was. She crumpled to the floor, legs quivering, panting from the exhausting sex. I was not done, as continued fucking the poor girl from behind. Eventually I came, pumping my seed into her battered pussy, and I put her in her chair again. She was sweaty from exhaustion and my semen was starting to leak from her pussy onto the chair.\n\nI pointed next to Hannah and Jane. I told them to pleasure each other, and they did it as best as two straight girls could. After all, I needed a moment to rest after an exhausting fuck.\n\nI’m gonna end it here, but will try to be back soon for more parts of this." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Aliens finally visit our planet... to tell us we're being evicted for being 12,000 years late on our lease payment." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Gruflestamp Bailiff Fleet assembled over Earth, their bulbous yellow ships causing much panic amongst the humans below. While they screamed in terror, one of the head debt collectors arrived at the headquarters of the IMF, to sort out the debt Earth needed to pay.\n\nThe corpulent extraterrestrial made it up to the top floors with no major hassle. The sight of a imposing fleet in low orbit had put many of the people inside the headquarters off working, with many of them taking an impromptu panic break. He arrived at the director's office and knocked on the door.\n\n'Gruflestamp Bailiffs, here to ask about your late payments.' The alien said, his voice staying a uniform tone. The director opened the door, his glasses tilted and hair dishevelled.\n\n'What on earth do yo...' His anger was soon replaced with fear, as he realised he was talking to an 8 foot creature from a foreign star system.\n\n'Thank you Mr Director. Now, let us sit down and discuss your planet's overdue payment.' The alien replied, ushering the director back into his bombsite of an office. The director sat in his seat while the bailiff tried his best to adapt to Earth furniture. The Gruflestamp frame was not used to such small chairs. Adjusting his attire, the director regained his composure.\n\n'Well, this is certainly the first I've heard of any overdue payment.'\n\n'We have given you plenty of notice. We've sent letters, crop circles patterns, all sorts of correspondence but nobody seemed to respond.' The bailiff replied, checking his notes.\n\n'Ah. Well, I'm sorry but nobody informed me of this. How much is the bill?'\n\n'Adjusting for inflation and the fact that you've done a rather rotten job of looking after the place, you will have to pay around 40 Gruflestampian Quadraks.'\n\n'That doesn't sound too bad.' the director replied, still trying to comprehend the fact he was talking to a 8 foot alien that looked like someone tied a face onto a beanbag full of porridge.\n\n'I haven't finished yet. In Earth money, it translates to about 78 quintillion dollars and 83 cents.' The bailiff replied, turning his calculator towards the director. He looked at it aghast. He had never seen so many zeros.\n\n'I'm afraid that's a bit much for us to pay at the moment. Recession and all that. Can we pay in smaller installments or do you need it all now?'\n\n'We need it all now. You had plenty of chance to pay up but you refused to acknowledge our letters.' the bailiff replied, looming over the director.\n\n'Can I just have a whip round the world leaders? See what we can sort out?' The director said, moving slowly to the phone.\n\n'Make it quick. Our ships haven't got all days and we've got three other planets to go to.'\n\n'I won't be a moment, just step outside for a moment while I make some calls.'\n\nThe bailiff got up out of the crushed chair and waited out in the corridor. He watched his fleet float peacefully in orbit, as humans threw themselves from tall buildings and the director angrily phoned up the World Bank and the UN, pleading for history's biggest IOU. He came out into the corridor ten minutes later, his face bright red.\n\n'Do you have our money?' The bailiff asked.\n\n'I'll be frank with you, no. The number you've asked is simply too much for us to pay now, let alone in a hundred years. Can we sort out any payment plan? Can we give you countries or art to lower the debt?'\n\n'I'm afraid not. If you cannot pay the bill now, we will be forced to eradicate the human race and reclaim Earth to be sold to another species. I don't make the rules, I just enforce them.'\n\n'Are you sure there is nothing we can do besides pay?'\n\n'Absolutely nothing.'\n\n'Well, if you will excuse me, I will be taking my leave. Thank you Mr Bailiff, it's been an unexpected pleasure.' The director shook the alien's hand before smashing through the window to meet the concrete for a final meeting. The bailiff looked down and shook his head.\n\n'What a stupid race.' He pulled out his communicator and called up the fleet. 'Yeah, they can't pay. I know, I did tell them about the crop circles but they didn't read them. Yeah, I'm coming back now. Arm the Destructor Ray and put the kettle on. We've still got Mars and Pluto to go.'" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1300-1400 words. Prompt: You're a low-ranking officer on a space ship. Everybody above you in the chain of command is dead or incapacitated. It's time you learn the ship's secret." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lieutenant Ramsey thought about apples. How his grandfather used to take his brother and two sisters and himself out to an orchard in Earth’s fall. He thought about how big those apples were compared to his small, child’s hands. Practically as big as his head. The sweetest thing he ever tasted. They used to bring big bags of them home, and his grandfather would crush them into cider.\n\nHe flitted between his imaginings and darkness\n\nThen he wondered how much he had to drink last night. His head hurt, and he felt hard steel underneath him. Pain shot up his back. Had he obliterated himself and passed out in the hallway? One of the lower storage levels? He kept his eyes closed for the time being because everything hurt. Why was he thinking of his grandfather and apple orchards? What the bloody hell happened.\n\nHe raised a hand to his face. It banged against the glass of the helmet on his head. Then it all came back to him.\n\nHe was wearing his emergency suit, and he was dreaming of apples because the air filters in the helmet were apple scented, filling his head with that nauseatingly sweet smell to avoid that stale, coppery taste of recycled oxygen. He was wearing his emergency suit because the last time he had been awake and aware something big had smashed into the ship, and the whole ship erupted in flooding light and shrieking alarms. Hull breaches on three levels. Some type of biological contagion.\n\nYes, he remembered.\n\nThe bio contagion. A spore of some kind. When the impact – an asteroid, a piece of space junk – punctured the ship, the spores released. Spores like this clung to anything at all in deep, dark reaches of space and waited for the first thing to come along. They had seen this type of agent at work before. In the oxygen rich air, the spores exploded, multiplying rapidly, coating the walls, the vents, the machinery in fuzzy grey mass. When each pod reached maturity, which took about five seconds, it exploded into a hundred thousand more spores, which turned into pods, which exploded into a hundred thousand more spores. They had started spreading so rapidly. The people who had failed to get to their safety suits in time, who found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong moment, had their brains eaten, their insides over run by the fuzzy grey wave.\n\nLieutenant Ramsay had run to his station on the deck through the sea of flooding lights and shrieking sirens, but the command center was one of the first areas that had been breached and overrun. He looked into the ship through a thick plate of glass. The ships defense system had sealed off all contaminated areas, sucking the air out of the infected rooms, including the bridge. He looked at the bridge, submerged in red light, the captain, the other lieutenants, the communications officers – all fuzzed over with spores and pods at their stations or sprawled out on the floor. The spores would remain dormant until more air was introduced, or someone went in with a plasma-arc and torched the fuckers.\n\nAfter that he had run to the second deck to see with his own eyes what was happening. Then the second impact hit them. He had been running at full speed and the impact slammed into a wall and smashed him into the floor, rag dolled like one of those old wrestling programs he used to watch as a kid. That’s when the blackness had descended, and the dreams about apples and Earth and his wise, gnarled grandfather had come to him.\n\nHe pulled himself up when he heard human voices. He followed their sound. They were yelling at each other. He stepped into a storage area, the walls stacked high with crates. A dozen men and women stood in identical emergency suits, identifiable only by little strips of color displaying rank. They turned towards him.\n\nAnd saluted. Which meant he was now the captain of this vessel.\n\n“We thought you were dead,” Roger said. “Thank the lord Jesus. We were about to override the security system to get onto the bridge.”\n\n“What was that second impact? Whatever it was, it knocked me the hell out.”\n\n“We don’t know. I don’t think it breached the hull.”\n\n“This doesn’t make any sense,” someone else said. “the ships navigation system should have avoided anything it picked up on the sensors.”\n\n“Okay,” Ramsay said. “How many casualties?”\n\nNo one spoke for a long second.\n\n“This is all of us.”\n\nThey left with 35 men and women. A dozen stood in the room, looking at Ramsay. More than fifty percent.\n\n“Have you sent out the emergency signal?”\n\n“We couldn’t get it to work. We were going to into the bridge because the center consul must be damaged. All of the other communications systems are disconnected from the main terminal.”\n\n“I’ll take care of that,” Ramsay said. “The rest of you – I want you to run diagnostics on all the ship’s systems. See what’s working and what’s not. Go through each one. I’ll be right back.”\n\nHe entered the vacuum chamber, heard the hiss of decompressing air, and stepped onto the bridge. He stood, bathed in red light. Without air, the only sound was the hot surge of blood in his veins. His heart beat at a jagged, heightened pace. He looked down at Lieutenant Valdez. He had always liked her. They used to eat together, tease each other. They were just friends, but he sometimes imagined that it would turn into something else. Now she barely looked human. Her eyes bulged from the decreased air pressure, her deep brown skin turned pale and blotchy in death. The fuzz covered half her face, one of her eyeballs. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth, the fuzz running down it and to her insides. He stepped over her and walked to the main communications terminal.\n\nHe moved the captain’s body out of the way and started working on it. He couldn’t seem to figure it out. There was nothing wrong with the hardware, as far as he could tell. There must have been a software bug, even thought it was exceedingly uncommon. He started messing around with the computer, trying to find some clues as to what went wrong.\n\nIn the list of the ships last commands, he found something peculiar.\n\nThe ship had exchanged communications with an unidentified ship, with unknown coordinates, which should have been impossible. Every ship in human space was registered and tracked.\n\nWell, besides pirates.\n\nA cold feeling went through him. There ship had changed course unexpectedly. They might have been maneuvering around an asteroid field, or some other body in space, but something seemed wrong here. He tried to run some commands through the computer but it kept going all screwy. He kept getting error messages. It was almost like they had been hit with a virus.\n\n“Oh fuck,” he said outloud, standing up.\n\nThe exchange in communications – whatever it had been – had planted a virus. If it was a pirate ship, and someone on board had authorized the communication, lowered the ship's defenses, then that meant the pirates had an inside man who had led them to this spot. They had billions if not trillions in precious minerals in their hold. And the initial impact – well, ships didn’t just run into things. Someone had launched that at them, the way armies used to lob bodies infected with plague over city walls in medieval times.\n\nAnd the second impact? Maybe that was the boarding party, coming to claim their prize.\n\nRamsay stood up, exited through the vacuum chamber, and sprinted back towards the ship’s hold, his footsteps ringing off the metal, but by then the sound of gunfire had already started." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Everybody gets their wings. Some are white like a swan, some black like a raven, some golden-brown like an eagle. When yours sprout, you gawk in horror. Your wings aren't made of feathers." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This is a long one ( sorry guys):\n\nMichael walked through the flutter of feathers. It was fascinating but it was also a bit gross. For the nth time, you were thankful that you trusted yourself and didn’t join the Feathers Sanitation Services (FSS)- they had a rough job. But at least they had wings, you still didn’t.\n\nUnlike most of your other peers, your wings hadn’t sprouted yet. As far as you could remember, there had never been wingless people before.\n\nAs you stepped up to your job, you sighed, let the routine start. As you walked up to the gate, you felt the parents eyes look at you suspiciously. The ones who had been there for years whispered that you hadn’t grown yours yet, the newer parents gasped in shock and protected their children’s eyes.\n\nMicheal smiled at them. He had learned a long time ago that snapping back or insisting that he was indeed an adult resulted in the other adults cooing at how big he was trying to be, or punished like a child.\n\nBeing a Kindergarten helper was a blessing. He couldn’t be a teacher because he wasn’t an adult. It was fine, the Government required he “help” out the other children in order to get his disability benefits. The benefits that would stop once his damn wings would grow!\n\nMaybe it was the fact that he was up late last night, maybe it was because he had to hurriedly down a few drinks but whatever it was, Michael was feeling nauseous but still he went about his normal day. He tidied up the playroom for the children, he made sure that the equipment was securely fastened, cleaned and in top condition for the day. Sometime when wiping off tables, Michael threw up. The good news is that kindergarten teachers are used to seeing vomit. Also Honey, one of the newer hires, was partnered with Michael today, - after all who would want to be permanently partnered with a child?- was nice.\n\nShe hurried over to him in shock. Ignoring the vomit, she rested her hand on his head. He was hot and getting hotter. Michael felt worn out and his back started aching. Honey kept pestering him about what hurt and what didn’t. It took her a few times to explain his symptoms- his wings were finally coming in!\n\nWhen Michael woke up, he could feel a thick rubbery thing covering his arms. In all the times he had overheard people talking, no one had ever mentioned this rubbery type of feeling, it was mostly warmth or itchiness.\n\nWas this it? Was he so much of a freak that he didn’t even have normal wings? Along with the wings, he had also developed a keener sense of hearing because he could hear someone pattering around downstairs in the kitchen. Somehow by the humming he knew it was Honey.\n\nMichael got out of the bed shakily, the AC was turned on to the coldest temperature and there had been evidence of Honey in his room ( somehow she had feed him soup?). Michael stumbled past his mirror and he whipped back his head in surprise. The wings looked like frail tissue or stretched skin or something. While he was still staring at his reflection, Honey came in. He jerked towards her in shock. She stopped and smiled at him.\n\n“Oh you’re awake!” That’s a good thing. Don’t worry your wings will take a while to get accustomed to but they’ll become a part of you”\n\nMichael just stared at her. Not hearing his response, Honey looked from where she was straightening the bed.\n\n“Is there a problem?”\n\n“ What the hell are these? These aren’t wings. What the hell?”\n\nHoney smiled.\n\n“Did you see the back?”\n\n“What?”\n\nHoney didn’t respond, instead she ran downstairs and came back with a small mirror in her hand. Angling it above her head, she showed Michael what he had missed. On the outer side of the wings was a scaled surface. A few horns arched out of the flat surface, giving it a dangerous appearance.\n\n“What?” Michael repeated again.\n\nVery few people in the world had scaled wings. For Michael, a foster kid from America, this was not his regular life. He was accustomed to seeing everything from chicken wings, to pigeon wings- scales dragon-dragon?- wings did not exist in America. But they did exist in one place.\n\nMichael turned towards Honey in shock. She was bent low in a very uncomfortable looking curtsy.\n\n“ It is my pleasure to meet you, the missing Crown Prince Mikandros of Landia”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1300-1400 words. Prompt: The 3rd Prince, bored, takes to spending his time with his Uncle, the Court's most notorious wastrel. Years later, the young man is kidnapped. The Royal family are frantic, but the Uncle only smirks. The boy WAS his best pupil. And Royal Assassins need practical experience, after all..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Have you searched the barracks? What of the attics or basements? Have you checked the dungeons?” A frantic woman, with large, plump rubies cushioned by the intricate swirls of her gold crown, prattled to a less-than-gifted maid. As the maid, drowned in sweat and the heavy fabric of her black blouse and skirt, nodded frantically to the Queen’s words, a man’s wailing echoed throughout the castle.\n\n“I will strangle him if he does not get a hold of himself,” the woman, Queen Magadelene, gritted through her teeth, fists balling into the silk of her ivory gown.\n\n“Please, your Majesty, be still. He is only longs his youngest son.” The maid attempted to reassure, voice wobbling by her unprovoked act.\n\n“We both are,” the Queen hissed, “What of the surrounding towns? He is nearing adulthood, perhaps he’s acting out.”\n\n“The guards have already been dispatched, so don’t worry your pretty little head.” A voice, croaky as a frog, spoke. The man was an ugly thing - scars littered his reed thin body, with the most prominent scar reaching its way from the end of his mouth towards his ear. To her, the looked like trenches dug into the ground. One of his eyes was permanently shut, and short strands of gray tried their best to stay attached to the man’s skeletal head.\n\n“Eric. A surprise to see you contributing to the search. It’s only fair you start pulling your weight around here.”\n\nThe man, Eric, let out a hearty yet choking laugh. “I’m happy to see my work acknowledged. I do alot for this family, I’ll have you know.”\n\nMagadelene began to make her way towards the castle’s foyer, her dress swaying to the pace of her steps as she held her brunette head high. “I’ll have to remind you that you have done nothing but waste the kingdom’s resources. Its only a miracle you’re sparse about it. The only reason we keep you around is because your brother and the children. It’s out of pity, really.”\n\nHis brother, King Abraham, and his third son Michael both loved Eric. Both weremen with hearts twice the size of anyone else’s, and who proudly wore it on their sleeves - which was quite the contrast to the stoic and lonesome Eric.\n\n“Yes, yes, I’m aware of how you all think of me; the court’s famous nut, their notorious wastrel, the-“\n\n“I don’t have time for this, I have to find my son. I am-“ her mouth pinched together, “grateful that you’ve done the barest amount of work, but I can’t entertain your mindless drivel any longer. Good night.”\n\nAs the Queen turned and stalked towards the front doors, Eric let a toothy smirk paint his face.\n\nSweat, like beads of aquamarine, rolled down Magadelene’s painted face. Any moment would lead her to becoming a sobbing mess just like her husband, but if that were to happen then no-one would be able to lead the search for her son, and she was surely not going to let that happen. Dabbing the back of her hand against her dripping face, she stood on top the stairs that overlooked the courtyard of their kingdom. Further, beyond the wrought iron gate and down a cobble stone trail, was a sleepy town that roused with candlelight and torches.\n\n‘Mother, mother,’ she recalled her little boy’s voice, as sweet as birdsong. His golden hair was kissed by the afternoon sun. ‘Why didn’t you tell me uncle Eric was so cool? He’s so awesome, he taught me all kinds of cool things! Like,’ her little boy hesitated, ‘he took me to the garden and let me dig and around see all the plants!’\n\nShe took her child’s little fingers into her gloves, glaring at all the dirt that have caved themselves into the crevices of his nails. ‘You don’t go into the garden, Michael. How many times have we told you?’ She scolded. She knew that the gardeners were going to have a field day with this. ‘Look at yourself, you’ve gotten dirt all over your clothes. This is why we don’t see your uncle Eric, he’s going to influence you into becoming just like him - a wretch.’\n\nMichael’s pudgy little face flared with rage - not at his scolding, but towards his mother. ‘That’s just ‘cus you and everybody are so lame, Uncle Eric lets me do stuff and be cool! You’re just jealous!’\n\nShe gripped the boy’s hands in hers and gave a sharp tug, ‘We don’t leave you around Eric because he is a scoundrel who’s abandoned this family for 30 years, and only crawled back because he knew he could take advantage of our kindness. Do you want to become like that? Do you?’\n\nThe boy shook his head.\n\n‘Good.’ She stood, towering over the child. ‘Go to your room. You are to stay there until your tutor arrives.’ She paused. ‘You’re no longer to see your uncle under any circumstances. All the servants and guards will know this. Now, go. You’re dismissed.’\n\nShe ignored the sniffles she heard behind the oak door when she came to check on Michael later - she thought it was for the best. She wanted her son to flourish in his life, and Eric was going to stifle that growth. There was just something about him that she knew was not right - she just couldn’t place what.\n\nIt was worse when she knew her husband and children were keeping secrets from her and the rest of the castle - the courts, the guards, even the servants. They’d all been shut out on this secret shared between themselves and Eric.\n\nThe way her husband, before Eric had returned to the castle, would wake at the witch’s hour with a candle in hand and letters in the other, reading over finely scrawled text that she could never get a glimpse of. Only the sender’s name at the bottom: Eric.\n\nThe way her only daughter, Evangeline, would adopt various masks and personalities when entertaining men at their royal balls. How she could seamlessly weave a new story and lie her way through a conversation - no one else seemed to notice, but a mother knows.\n\nThe way her two oldest sons, Phillip and Noah, became stronger and defter. Their instructors praised their growth, saying their blue blood was the cause, thanking God for his gifts. But it was no divine intervention - she was sure it was an outside force at play.\n\nBut she kept quiet. She needn’t cause unnecessary drama. She’d only wait, observe, kept her distance. If Eric caused something, she’d be the first to act.\n\nAs she stood on the steps, clouded by her thoughts, she noticed a figure trudging their way toward the gates. She opened her mouth to yell, but first noticed the clothing the figure wore. They were pajamas, plain and white. However, embroided over the heart, was a bouquet of flowers: red roses, pink lilies, daisies and more flowers she couldn’t be bothered to remember, because she recognised that shirt. She recognised that embroidery - it was hers; she had made it for Michael on his 16th birthday.\n\nChoking on air, she bellowed out her son’s named and ran down the stairs. She kicked off her heels, the bastard things, and damned her royal image - her son was back, and that was all she cared about. Holding the boy in her arms, she felt the warm liquid that coated his shirt. Though the lights of the castle barely made its way outside, she could recognise the colour of that liquid.\n\n“Oh my goodness- my boy, what have they done? Are you alright? Please, tell me.” She cried.\n\n“I’m fine, ma. I’m fine, promise.” He responded, smiling at her, as he held of trembling form by her arms.\n\n“Then... what-“\n\n“I knew you’d be fine,” Eric spoke from behind, as he stiffly made his way down the stairs. One, two, one, two.\n\n“Uncle...” he paused, “Yes mother, as he’s said, I’m perfectly fine. Honest.”\n\nAs she stared at the blood, she noticed the leather hilt of a sword sticking from the waist of his pants. Looking into his eyes, she noticed the two men were sharing a knowing look between eachother.\n\nIt was only then, that Magdelene felt like an intruder upon a family reunion." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: A pureblood elf raised by a dwarf clan has grown a beard, defying everything known about elves and facial hair. A traveling high elf and city elf are being fitted by a dwarven shopkeep when the news breaks." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Two elves stood in front of the mirror as they were being measured for a custom-made suit by the dwarf haberdasher.\n\n\"I never knew that dwarves had an interest in tailoring,\" said the city elf.\n\n\"Dwarves are best known for mining and forging weapons of iron,\" said the high elf, \"but a dwarf tailor that has become skilled enough to be compared to the tailors of our kind is a curious thing indeed. As rare as an elf with a beard.\"\n\nJust then, a dwarf walked into the shop with his son. The elves noticed that the son was starting to sprout a beard of his own.\n\n\"Good afternoon, Master Royce,\" the haberdasher said. \"I see you brought your boy. I'll be right with you as soon as I am done with these two gentlefolk.\"\n\n\"Measuring out a suit for elves, eh?\" said Royce. \"I hope you don't mind doing the same for one more elf.\" He put his hand on the shoulder of his son. \"We need him measured for something fancy he can wear at court.\"\n\n\"Pardon me,\" said the city elf, \"but you didn't mean to say that your son is an elf, did you?\"\n\n\"Don't let the beard fool you,\" said Royce. \"He's a full-blooded elf. Raised him as my own son from when he was a wee lad.\"\n\n\"But I see that he's growing a beard,\" said the high elf. \"It's a well-known fact that elves don't grow beards. Or is the boy wearing a false beard?\"\n\n\"You're welcome to come over and see for yourself,\" said Royce.\n\nThe high elf stepped away from the haberdasher's measuring and came over to the boy elf to have a closer look at him. \"Amazing,\" he said. \"He is an elf in every respect except for that beard.\" He turned to Royce. \"But elves don't grow beards. Aren't beards one of the defining characteristics of dwarves?\"\n\n\"Aye it is,\" said Royce.\n\nThe high elf and the city elf took a moment to ponder the conundrum of an elf growing a dwarven beard.\n\n\"Is he an elf or is he a dwarf?\" asked the high elf.\n\n\"I'm not sure,\" said the city elf. \"Can someone be both a dwarf and an elf?\"\n\n\"Only when they are half bloods,\" said the high elf. He turned to Royce. \"Is he your own son or a foster child?\"\n\n\"He did not come from me or or my wife,\" said Royce. \"We are merely guardians to this elfling, and he looks to be a pure blood.\"\n\n\"A full elf with a beard,\" mused the high elf. He looked at the city elf. \"What do you think?\"\n\n\"If he is a full elf, then he's an elf regardless of what's growing on his face,\" the city elf reasoned.\n\n\"But the beard,\" said the high elf. \"This is the beard of a dwarf.\"\n\n\"Doesn't the race of man grow beards as well?\" asked the city elf.\n\n\"They do, but I've taken a close enough look at this beard, and it is the unique beard of the dwarf. Men don't grow beards in that pattern and with that texture,\" the high elf said as he rubbed the chin of the boy with his fingers. \"It's a dwarven beard, and in my mind, that makes him a dwarf.\"\n\n\"Could it be possible that he is both an elf at a dwarf?\" asked the city elf.\n\n\"The lad can only be considered both an elf and a dwarf if he has the blood of both an elf and a dwarf,\" said the high elf. \"This lad is full elf, but because he has the beard, and since elves can't grow beards, he cannot be an elf. Therefore he is a dwarf.\"\n\n\"But you just said he was a full elf, albeit with a dwarven beard. Does the beard supercede all other considerations?\"\n\n\"Are you saying he's an elf then?\"\n\n\"I'm saying he's both.\"\n\n\"But I just told you that he can't be both if he doesn't have the blood of both.\"\n\n\"But certainly we can't say that he's just a dwarf when the only dwarven thing about him is his beard.\"\n\n\"What do you want to call him then? An elf?\"\n\nThe haberdasher, seeing no end in sight to this animated debate, called the boy over so he can measure him." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Describe the human-constructed world to the leader of an Amazon tribe that has never made contact with modern humans." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The modern world is in some ways the same, yet in some ways entirely different. Your tribe has its own goals and duties, you hunt and fish to survive, cultivate crops, and live a lifestyle of toil and monotony. In the same way many people have their own jobs, some farm and provide food, some manage where the food goes, some attempt to trade with other people with food. The world is expansive beyond your imagination, but even more amazing than that is the achievements of humankind. You know the mountains of Peru? Imagine that, but rather than gigantic masses of stone is a giant village, filled with millions of people. We call these cities, and they are massive centers of human life. People can live and die without ever leaving one, because every part of their life can be centered inside of a city. If you need food, you can trade objects that are of value for it, without the effort of ever leaving the city.\n\nAnother amazing thing the world has is technology, and in troves too. Humankind has the ability to create things we have never dreamed of. When we look up at the stars at night, we don't see simply a dot, floating high above. We see a sun that is so far away from us it seems tiny, just like the ants on the ground seem tiny to us, they are so large when looked at up close. We have the power and the knowledge to explore beyond our world and to explore others.\n\nBut humanity has new hardships, while modern society rarely starves we find new questions.knowledge is not just a blessing, it is also a curse. It is a burden because as one question is answered it creates more, the truth is we can learn from the skies above, but we can never truly know them. Our very existence is only rationalized by our perception of it. If you see a pot on the ground, it must be there, because you can see it, as such is life, we can see it Abe a part of it. But where did the pot come from? It was made by a potter. Where did the potter get the clay? From the riverbank. Why is there clay by the riverbank? Because of science, we think that clay is just very very tiny pieces of dirt stuck together. But where did that tiny dirt come from? We think the world is here because it is a bunch of rock and life floating in the air. But how did we get there? Was there some god shaping the cosmos? Did we just appear? Where did we come from? And what happened before that?\n\nKnowledge is dangerous, and the pursuit of it has driven men crazy for centuries. But without it we are ignorant. I have placed this burden on you because you are the chief of your tribe. Would you rather pain your people with knowledge, and slap them free from the chains of ignorance, or let them live blissfully in a world without care? Unknowing of what the world will hold for them?\n\nI say for myself, this curse is not one that is so easily lifted, knowledge has changed who I am to a level I can never return from. But no matter how much I think I could never imagine the lack thereof." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: The day comes when you find yourself face to face with Death. Figuring you have seconds left to live, you figure why not go out in style? You turn to face Death and say \"Actually, I'm here to talk to you about your quota... we're not impressed\". To your surprise, Death seems downright shaken." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In my hometown, Death doesn't bring a sickle, wear a hood, or have only a skeleton body. Death appeared to everyone in the most glamorous suit you'll ever see, beautiful looks, tall, pale-skinned, and oddly charming.\n\nDangerously charming. It was the final act of honor to Life itself before revealing its gruesome face, something no one alive can tell.\n\nWhen a strange handsome man came to meet me at the roof of the hospital, I knew for certain I'll succeed in jumping this time. Took the bastard long enough. Why not come sooner when the doctor gave me the bad news?\n\n\"Are you going to jump?\" The man asked. And I knew my suspicion was right.\n\n\"Haha,\" I laughed, \"You'll come sooner or later, right? Why not just skip the meds and that surgery. Come pick me up, Mr. Death.\"\n\nHe smiled, \"You have to jump first. Seeing as your parents is in debt, your tumor is getting bigger, your hope is fading, I think you should just do your family a favor.\"\n\nI gulped, tempted. God, he's so beautiful. Every word just compel me to do what he said.\n\n\"Well, here goes...\" I removed my sandals and climbed the rail, staring down at several floors high up. After years of missing high schools, dates, prom, and all the cool stuff kids my age can do, why can't I do something I can be proud of?\n\nAn idea just bloomed to me. Why not go out in style? Laugh and do a flip? Do sky diving? Or...\n\nI turned to Death, eagerly coming up with something, \"Actually...\" Damn, he's looking at me! What should I say, \"Actually, I'm here to talk to you about your quota. Let's just say...\"\n\n...The smile on the man's face disappeared, replaced with wry anxiety. \"How did you know- Wait. Is that you, supervisor?\"\n\nHuh? What? Supervisor? \"Uh... Let's just say, we're not impressed.\"\n\nIn instant, the beautiful man melted away. A murder of crows emerged from the skins of humans. The darkest crows I had ever seen in life just... appeared and fly away, leaving only one oversize crow. Its eyes were emerald green, titling its small head in madness.\n\n\"I didn't know it was you, supervisor!\" The crow- Death- ranted, \"Hold on! I should have 2 more weeks of quota left! You can't evict me yet!\"\n\nI gasped, having no idea what's going on. Death has a management department? \"Uh... I checked your quota, but I believe we delayed it several times!\"\n\n\"No, no, no! Listen to me!\" The crow rasped, \"I don't know why these people just refuse to die! Every time I mark someone, another agent just swoop in!\"\n\n\"Of course, you failed,\" I clasped my waist, \"What was that: \"Are you going to jump?\" You're not supposed to ask people like that. You should be more encouraging! Tempting! Wearing a beautiful look doesn't cut it!\"\n\n\"Let's make a deal,\" The crow flew next to my feet, \"I-I'll cross this girl's name from my list, from any list! You get to enjoy several decades in her body! Our little secret! Please, don't tell anyone. One month! I'll find three more souls before Spring!\"\n\n\"Work your magic, then.\"\n\nThe next day, my tumor was gone, and I feel like I'm starting to live my life for real.\n\nThanks, Mr. Death! You're not so scary." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: A man in his twenties dies and leaves behind a mourning mother. He gets along with God and becomes the angel of death (one of many). When time comes, God sends him to reap his mother." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I stared at her.\n\nA desiccated old woman with no one to help her. With no one to even watch her or comfort her at her deathbed.\n\nI didn't want to tour my old home. This place was used to be a lively place with me and my parents. I remembered writing so many manuscripts, telling my mother I wanted to be a bestselling author; that it was my dream to become a famous writer who changed the world with my novels and my books.\n\nI remember my mother rejoicing when I told them that I had a deal with a New York, and that I was taking my first step into making this dream a reality.\n\nBut I remember more the fear I felt in that plane. It was like molten lead, barrelled all the way up my head, and coursing through my veins, heating me, paralyzing me.\n\nAnd when it crashed, my last thoughts were not of my dream, but of her.\n\nIt was a quite a solace to know that God existed, that he enforced true justice in the world, and to honor the injustice and unfair death me and a couple of others that shared my fate, we became a farmhand for heaven, reaping those ripe and ready to enter God's kingdom, which all suffering ceased.\n\nTo see my mother like this was a bittersweet thing.\n\nI slowly walked to her and sat on her bed. I pan my gaze at the surroundings. Books, letters, manuscripts... my manuscripts. My book, with my name...\n\nI took the first one above her headrest. It was the book that I was supposed to present to the agent.\n\n\"Revelations by Jora Josa.\" And a bestselling book...\n\nHow?\n\n\"It's about time, Jo.\"\n\nMy eyes widened, and quickly I eyed my mother, her toothless mouse gaping. Her voice was like a barren dessert.\n\n\"When I said you were going to become a famous writer, I meant it.\"\n\nEmotions sunk down my head, clogging my throat and weighing on my chest.\n\n\"Mom, you can see me?\"\n\n\"Of course, I can, Jojo. I'm your mother after all. It only makes sense for a mother to know when their children is sad.\"\n\n\"You... published this for me?\"\n\n\"What does it look like? Of course.\"\n\nThis woman. This woman was my mother. 70 years since I died and she's still the chestnut haired woman that used to read me bedtime stories. That used to help critique my writings.\n\n\"Thank you, mom...\"\n\n\"Don't thank me, it's only natural I do this. I hope you're not too hungry. Have you been doing well up there?\"\n\n\"Seeing dying people isn't exactly my dream job, but it's been pretty good.\"\n\n\"I see. I hope God's keeping you fed up there. You always had such an appetite.\"\n\n\"Mom, if you can see me, it means you're dying.\"\n\n\"I'm old, alone, without a family to keep me company and barely able to move a muscle. Of course I'm dying, silly.\" She jested. It lightened up this otherwise bitter confrontation.\n\n\"God told me in a dream 70 years ago that I was going to see you again, Jojo. And I was waiting...\"\n\n\"Where's dad? Nori? Poly?\"\n\n\"Your dad didn't take your death well. He left me to raise Nori and Poly all by myself and started a new family. Don't be angry at him though. Sometimes people do these things when they can't handle the pressure.\"\n\nShe took a deep exasperated breath, and I touch her shoulder as I did when I saw her bury herself under countless work and chores.\n\n\"Nori and Poly are... somewhere out there in the world. They've stopped communicating with me a long time ago...\"\n\nMy blood boiled.\n\n\"Those bastards! How could they? When its their turn to meet me I'm going to-\"\n\nMy mother cupped my cheeks. I felt her hands struggle and strain, quaking, as if her limbs hurt just by reaching out to touch me.\n\n\"Don't be like that, deary. You're here now with me, aren't you? This is enough for me. I couldn't ask for a better crowd to surround me in my deathbed.\"\n\n\"I see. Well, it's time to go now, mom.\"\n\n\"Is God nice?\" She joked again\n\nI let out a pleased snort. \"He's God, mom.\"\n\nI reached out my hand, and her palm at my face fell to mine. A whiteness above started to look down on us, and she took her last breath, with a smile on her corporeal body, no less.\n\nI pull out the spirit beneath, and out she came.\n\nThe same mother I last saw when I left the airport.\n\nChestnut haired. Beautiful and... lovely.\n\nShe smiled at me as I lead her to the steps.\n\nIn her life when I died, she suffered a lot.\n\nBut here, with me and a billion others who once shared her sorrow, she'll never be once again.\n\nShe'll never suffer again." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: \"Be afraid not my father/mother, for I have taken care of that foul beast\" said your baby while glowing and floating over the death body of a giant demon." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He shot 100s of feet into the air and turned towards the already disfigured beast, a bulging brown lactating from his face, spanning his arms as wide as possible and finishing it off with a clap that sent a sonic boom through the remaining houses and trees, collapsing one after the other as the beast began to disintegrate.\n\nMy wife, his mother, Shauna was on her knees. Her eyes weaving a speechless story I could not bare to read. Slowly and steadily he began to glide down towards me, my baby that is, his slight giggles echoing across the now barren suburbs. It was still him, Sam, my sweet baby boy. Unfortunately the sweetness only lasted a few seconds...\n\nShauna and I jumped backwards, releasing him from my grasp as he began to levitate once more, \"Be afraid not parents, for I have taken care of that foul beast.\" His voice... It was deeper than mine, I could almost feel it vibrating right through my ribcage.\n\nShauna began panicking and screaming, leaping backwards as Sam levitated towards her extending his arms, \"Milk mama,\" he begged in his normal voice. I could feel the jitters taking over my body, there was nothing I could do.\n\n\"Honey, we need to be calm he's just a baby.\"\n\n\"That's not a fucking baby Mark, it's a fucking-\"\n\n\"MILK! MAMA!\" began screaming Sam as the very ground itself rose up towards the sky, his body beginning to glow a deep red as the tears and shrieks grew bigger and louder.\n\nI was hesitant but all he wanted was his parents, whatever this was he just was protecting us. I had to do something.\n\n\"Sam, baby, it's me daddy- that's right... come to daddy.\"\n\nHe began to calm and the rising ground slowly came to a halt as he floated slowly again into my arms. There we go.\n\n\"Mark, put the baby down,\" pleaded Shauna between sobs, covered in blood. \"It's not ours, I stole it...\" she whispered, but it was no use because he was very aware, and not happy.\n\nHe opened his eyes and waved two fingers in the air, throwing her back against the ground as he jumped out of my arms again, his shrieks getting louder and louder bringing me to my knees. Like he was screaming from the inside of my head.\n\n\"NOT MAMA!\"\n\nHe rose above us and lifted his arms into the air as the clouds darkened, the only visible light emanating from the glowing red on his body. He swung his arms down in our direction, I shut my eyes and began to pray. What had Shauna done? My son... Within seconds a loud thunder began to brew and a single bolt blew from the sky, hurtling towards us and smashing right beside me. As the mist began to clear, Shauna lay motionless as I cradled her in my arms. Tears streaming down my face.\n\nThe sky began to clear again, a bright blue streaking across the dark clouds. Sam continued in the sky levitating, he watched me as our eyes crossed paths. He lifted his arms once more but hesitated and before my very eyes he simply disappeared.\n\nIt's been thirty years since that day, and there's somebody outside my house right now. I can hear the the giggling outside my house and a light shining from underneath the front door, a bright red light.\n\n\"Open up daddy.\"\n\n¬Discover more of my writing at r/silvacorner." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You bought a house for insanely cheap, only to find it haunted by an ancient horror. After years of stubborn conflict, you have declared a truce to jointly battle a far greater evil: the local HOA." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The ghost I live with can be a real dick.\n\nIt took some time getting used to him. And he's cost me thousands in electric repairs with his constant flickering.\n\nI get it. I'm in his space. All his loved ones are dead. He can't move on. Yadda yadda yadda... doesn't mean you get to turn the T.V. off right before the game winning field goal.\n\nBut you know what they say. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.\n\nTurns out ol' Cornelius wasn't a fan of some of the recent changes the HOA was making. Something about a new home being propped up on his family's graveyard.\n\nMe, on the other hand, I just wanted to put in a basketball hoop and to let my friends park on the street overnight.\n\nBut that would be unsightly.\n\nI'm a good neighbor. I keep to myself, mow my lawn, and, most importantly to them, I pay my dues.\n\nBut the HOA is a group of the belief that to have fun is to sin. Seriously, those guys make a monastery look like a rave in the early 1990s.\n\nNo loud music outdoors after dark. No more than 3 cars parked in front of your house at all times. No above ground pools. Kids couldn't even ride bikes past dusk without getting a lovely call and reminder from my neighbor, Tabitha, the head of the HOA.\n\nSo, when I got an email the other day that my Saturday BBQ (that ended at 7 p.m. per HOA rules) was \"too loud\" and \"unbecoming\" of our neighborhood, I reached my breaking point.\n\nAnd then a light bulb went off. But that was just Corny in the living room.\n\nI went to where he was and pulled out my Ouija board.\n\n\"Hey, Cornelius, can you travel outside this home?\"\n\nI watched the thing move over to YES on the board.\n\n\"Wait, really? What are you always bugging me for, then? Go out in the world. Live a little.\"\n\nThe thing moved over to GOODBYE.\n\n\"Wait, wait, wait. We might be able to save your family's grave.\"\n\nThe television flipped on to the T-Birds singing to John Travolta \"Tell me more! Tell me more!\"\n\n\"Okay,\" I continued. \"Well, when I first moved in, Tabitha told me this house was haunted and that she could never live in it cause she hated ghosts.\" I paused.\n\n\"Sorry, buddy. Some people just are stuck in their outdated ways. Anyways... She's the one pushing for new developments and the home going in over your kids' dead bodies.\"\n\nThe Ouija board spelled out GO ON.\n\n\"I mean, do I have to spell it out for you? I can use the board if you want. Just go over there. Haunt the beejesus out of her and make her sell her home.\"\n\nThe radio turned on. \"Okay! Yeah!\" said Lil' John.\n\nThe following night, I sat on my patio while I watched Cornelius turn Tabitha's home into on big strobelight.\n\nThe pots were banging, the cupboards swinging, and the home owner shrieking.\n\nNot two days later was there a For Sale sign next door.\n\nMy Alexa started playing The White Stripe's \"We Are Going To Be Friends.\"\"\n\nThere's an election upcoming for the new president of the association.\n\nSuddenly, I've gotten really into politics." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Three years ago, on Friday the Thirteenth, everyone \"Changed\". Their skin became the same color and pattern as the closest item of clothing to their heart. The world has never been the same." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The men were fine. Mostly.\n\nThe cotton caste, mostly plain white with a slight fabric look. This was how the majority of men looked. They either had a simple cotton vest or white shirt. This was probably the majority for men.\n\nAfter that were the colour caste. No obvious pattern, just a uniform colour. Mostly the primary colours but of course most of the spectrum was represented. Blacks, blues, reds being very common.\n\nNext came the stripe caste. These people had been wearing a variety of work shirts. The range was wide, from tartan to pinstripe and everything in between. Only a few people for each individual pattern though.\n\nThe last major group for the men (and a surprisingly high number of women) was the pattern caste. Some considered themselves lucky, were proud of their pattern. Some, horrified. That witty slogan shirt you wore ironically? It was now your skin. That brand you always wore? Well now you were that brand. Obviously this went better for some than others. A few had killed themselves over it. There were sub-classes of course. Like the Cosplay caste. Very much part of the pattern cast, but for them it was so much worse. With a logo, or picture, or slogan, it had just transferred as if it was a tattoo. Repeating patterns of course, covered the whole body. The tartan stripe caste people had to live with it on their face but that was nothing compared to the small group of people who now looked like Spiderman forever. Some were of course even less lucky.\n\nThe women of the world for example. A lot of women wore undergarments that did not match how the presented themselves on the outside. A lot had joined the men in the cotton caste or the other common mostly male types such as stripe and pattern caste. Women in the cotton and pattern caste for example often endured a lot of comments about what they were, or rather were not wearing on the day of the change. The majority of women however were spit into two categories. The frills and the comforts. The frills came in all sorts, an infinite array of styles and colour schemes but all with one overriding theme. They were generally considered quite beautiful too.\n\nThe social split for men wasn't as bad. The cottons by and large were not better or worse than the patterns. The stripes liked to think they were better but honestly it was far more individual for men. When it came to the women, the frills were definitely above the comforts.\n\nOf course there were some that had it really bad. The exotic caste. Worse than the cosplays, or better depending on how you looked at such things.\n\nThere were men, in the frills caste. They counted as exotics. But then there were those with leather, latex, some had even taken the appearance of metal. Some were mocked, some were sort after.\n\nAll these different castes had changed \"racial\" politics forever. Not for the good mind you. Old bias had died away only to be replaced by new ones. The cotton caste, despite being the majority got looked down on by those who had the joy of wearing silk when it happened.\n\nThe most exotic of the exotic caste however, the most sort after. Most of the population either hated or mocked them (openly) but somehow they enjoyed being some of the most sort after.\n\nThis final caste was why I knew there was no justice in the world. Why would these people get what they wished when everybody else were just different. Even the Spidermen and Ironmen (almost a caste in themselves) didn't want to look like that forever, they just had to.\n\nA lot of this final exotic caste were 'not intentional', or so they said publicly. They had worn it for a costume party, as a joke, it was a bedtime onesie etc. Few admitted to what they had really been doing. A few were proud of it.\n\nStill, I guess for all the fights between different tartan and stripes, or argument between cotton and silk the world finally had.... The Anthro caste. Cat-girls. Wolf-boys. Dog-men.\n\nThe furries were about the only people in the world almost universally happy about the change. Except of course those who had ended up in one of the other castes because they were not wearing the right thing at the right time. Even then though, they had the chance of meeting an anthro exotic.\n\nFor all the world had changed however, as a latex caste man lay dying in the street after being beaten by a group of cottons, nothing had really changed. Except who got hated." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: A story about a man hunting down a mouse in his apartment, but written as a noir themed detective novel." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "My name is Murphy. At least that’s what everyone’s called me since I joined the Corps back in ’42. Now I’m Detective Murphy of Murphy Investigations. A real detective? No, but I like the title, and enough husbands and wives who think the other is screwing around pay me enough to pay the bills and the bar tab. With no wife, family, or future to speak of, I’d intended to drink ‘til I was dead, and hopefully that would sooner rather than later.\n\nAt first, I only saw her from the distance, always in the shadows. The broad only seemed to come out at a night, and so far as I could tell, lived alone. I’d come to call her Snow White as her fur was almost ethereally white. She had keenly intelligent eyes that could stare daggers through a man, and a tail that went on for days. And, like most other women in my life, she wanted to see me dead.\n\nI was sleeping off another night of too much booze, like plenty of other guys who fought in the Pacific and made it back in one piece. One piece in body, anyway. Lately, the booze hasn’t been enough, and one night in spite of downing more whiskey than I frankly care to recall, I heard it for the first time. It was the soft pitter-patter of feet. I smiled for a bare second.\n\nI was 10-years old. It was a cold winter night, but the new furnace was keeping our house nice and warm. I heard the soft steps of my favorite old cat Daisy before she’d jump up in bed and nudge herself against me. But, I wasn’t 10-years old anymore. I was a stinkin’ drunk who all but lost his marbles in the War. Whatever remained of youth was left behind on some sweltering island in the South Pacific.\n\n“Monster.” something or nothing said.\n\n“Who’s there?” I shouted. “I got a gun and I’ll shoot!”\n\nI reached into the drawer of my nightstand, grabbed my .38 revolver and turned on the lamp. That’s when I saw her. That’s when I saw the thing. Two tiny points of light peering at me from some darkened corner of my bedroom. In my drunken stupor I couldn’t quite register what I was looking at. I ran to bathroom to turn on the lights there to get a better look, and just like that, the thing was gone.\n\n“Lousy bitch.” I muttered, and stumbled my way into the kitchen to pour myself another glass of whiskey. If the booze wasn’t helping me sleep anymore, I guess that just meant I needed more booze.\n\nI didn’t see it again for another week. I had almost forgotten about it when I came home from another night at the bar. I turned on the light and there it was, standing on its hind legs and cast in the shadow of my armchair. That’s when I saw how white it was. It was as white as freshly fallen snow. Snow White. And those eyes, and those goddamn accusing, intelligent eyes.\n\n“Monster.” they said.\n\nI charged at it.\n\n“Monster.”\n\nI was going ring this mouse’s neck. Who’d it think it was? Coming into my home. Looking at me like that. The mouse quickly darted under the skirt of the armchair and when I got there I flipped it over. I was going to stomp it to death. But, there was nothing there. In a rage, I skulked around my home for a half-hour, but found nothing. No holes in the walls, nothing in the pantry or cabinets. Nothing.\n\nSo, more booze to sleep. This was getting serious, but a man needs to sleep, and when you’ve seen the things I’ve seen, you can’t begrudge a man his drink.\n\nWhen I awoke the next morning I decided that the work I had at the office could wait. I was going to find this Snow White and kill it for looking at me the way she did. For accusing me. I went to the hardware store and bought a dozen mousetraps. Then I bought some cheese, went back home, opened a fresh bottle of whiskey and began carefully laying out the traps.\n\n“Yeah, you think you’re so smart, Snow White.” I said, as the last trap was laid.\n\nContented, I poured myself a drink, turned off the lights, and put on the Giants game. They were going all the way this year, I just knew it. I intended to enjoy my drink and the game in the dark, and then be pleasantly surprised as I heard the trap spring, bringing a quick end to my unwelcome guest. I nodded off sometime in the 7th, which was odd since I’d been having such problems sleeping lately. I awoke just after midnight, head pounding. I got up to pour myself a glass of water and stepped on one of the traps.\n\nI cursed myself for being so stupid. But, there was no pain. I looked down, and the cheese was gone, the trap sprung, and no mouse. Then came to anger. Enraged, I reached down, picked up the trap and threw it against the wall.\n\n“Where are you, you bitch?” I screamed.\n\nI looked around the house. All dozen traps had sprung, and the bait in each gone, but no mouse. No blood. Nothing. That’s when I saw her, peering at me from atop my kitchen table.\n\n“Monster.” her eyes said again.\n\n“You don’t know anything about, you lousy bitch!” I shouted. I ran at her. This time I’d be quicker. I’d get her.\n\nThen I lost my footing, then darkness. It wasn’t exactly pain I felt, but a dull ache. Shards of shattered glass stuck out in various angles and places from my feet. This didn’t make any sense. Even drunk I didn’t leave bottles laying around the floor. That’s when the fear came. I couldn’t feel my feet. I couldn’t move them. In fact, apart from labored breathing and small movements of my eyes, I couldn’t move at all. All the same, I felt the ice coursing through my veins and then sweat beading upon my face.\n\nThe last thing I can remember seeing, remembering, was Snow White sauntering in my line of site and deliberately turning her head to look at me.\n\n“Monster.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1300-1400 words. Prompt: If you lie really hard, reality changes so your lie becomes the truth. A politician, a lawyer, and a used car salesman all discover this on the same day." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I watched the news as Senator Henry grinned. \"Congress has voted to make me speaker of the house. I am now speaker of the house. It was a unanimous decision to make me speaker of the house.\"\n\nI wrinkled my forehead.\n\nI guess it would be a big deal to win a spur of the moment election like that, and I'm sure the guy was happy, but damn. We get it. You're speaker of the house. I flipped through the channels and turned on some brain dead cartoon that would hopefully make me laugh and keep me awake. A job the news was failing at. I rocked my crying daughter, Victoria, who I sometimes just called Tory in my head. She was three months old and loved to cry. Scream really. And I hated for my wife to have to rock her in the dead of night.\n\nMy wife, Kate, was always exhausted. She was kind, smart, loving, and exhausted. She worked longer hours than I did. Sometimes going to work before the sun came up and coming home after it had gone down. But she didn't mind. Sometimes I worried she would grow resentful that I only worked 8 hours a day and had so much more time with Tory. But she never did. Instead, every other Friday for the last 8 months, she would beam and show me her savings account. Each time it would grow $100 and she would almost fight back tears. The account was named \"Victoria's School.\" When I first saw it, I had to fight back tears too.\n\nSo that's how I usually lost all my sleep, letting Kate get hers.\n\nThe next morning, after I dropped Tory off at day care, I was listening to the radio. \"In other news, a lawyer in Chicago got his client off a double murder sentence because he reminded the judge and jury that George Washington said it was okay to murder your neighbors if they're sleeping with your wife. And the Cincinnati zoo is welcoming a baby hippo to their family!\"\n\nI almost slammed on the breaks. What? I pulled into the parking lot at work and whipped out my phone. I searched it and it came up immediately. A lawyer shaking hands with a man who looked like he carried years of anger and regret. \"Not Guilty!\" The headline screamed. I rubbed my temple. A little further down, I saw an even less sane headline. \"President Jacks steps down as commander in chief and hands his position to Senator Henry.\"\n\nI read that too. Apparently after a private conversation, President Jacks agreed that Henry would do a better job.\"\n\nI shook my head, but got out of my car and went to work. I worked at Leo's Used Cars, where the deals are cerrrrazy. Deals, psht! More like swindles. I haven't seen a vehicle here that I would ever buy. So to sell them to people with terrible credit and low income always made me feel slimey. But I've only been here a year and a half and I'm the top sells man. I'm a great liar. I could sell ice to an Eskimo.\n\nThroughout the day, I sold 7 vehicles. New record. Enough commission to meet Kate on Tony's savings and pay for a day off with her. And today was ridiculously easy. I would lie and say the vehicle had great gas milage, and they would believe me. Or that the tires were brand new, and I would even look down and believe it. Once or twice, I would say \"it's a great car,\" and it seemed it was shinier, sleeker, and just better.\n\nI couldn't believe my luck. On my way home, after picking up Tory, again I listened to the radio. \"Newly appointed Chief Justice Henry has accepted the position.\" Again I shook my head. This guy couldn't be the president and the Chief Justice. Or at least, I didn't think so.\n\nOnce parked in the driveway, I looked up the news article. No, a different Henry. But, in a picture of the new Chief Justice Henry and President Henry shaking hands, they looked just alike. Then I understood. They were brothers. I wondered why the country wasn't outraged. Where were the riots and outpouring of confusion? Then I asked myself how I felt. Not angry, maybe a little shocked. But it just made sense. As if it were perfectly understandable that there is a new president and his brother is now Chief Justice.\n\nI felt even more confused. But I simply took Tory inside and gave her a bath. I then got dinner ready and waited for Kate. Once she came home, I was so excited to tell her about my good luck at work, that I didn't even notice how down she looked.\n\n\"I sold 7 cars today.\" I told her, the first thing I said after kissing her hello.\n\n\"That's good,\" she replied, sounding sullen. She took a deep breath and looked down. \"I got fired today.\"\n\nI was floored. No, we weren't going hungry, but we relied heavily on her job. I know my exasperation showed on my face, because she immediately started crying. Quick to take her in my arms, I consoled her. \"It's okay, it's okay, we'll be fine. We barely needed your job anymore. I can support us. I'll take care of us.\" I whispered over and over again until she stopped crying. When she looked up, I saw she looked less exhausted. More relieved. And even though I was worried so did I.\n\nThat night, Tory started crying as usual. And even though I still had work tomorrow, I still went to her and let Kate rest. I sat with her, watching the news again. The Henry duo were already making changes to our government. Getting rid of term limits and giving themselves raises. Once again, I was confused but not outraged because it made sense somehow.\n\nThen everything clicked. Like a puzzle, I realized the laws of everything changed and lies were bending reality. I knew it just the same way that I knew the 7 cars I sold today were going to be great vehicles for their new owners.\n\nI thought of Kate, sleeping in bed, full of worry. I knew I could make things so much easier for her. I could lie to the bank, say our house was paid off. That they owed us mortgage. I could lie to the credit card company and tell them we were debt free. I could see Kate smiling, relieved beyond words. Then I looked down at Tory.\n\nFor once, she wasn't crying. She just looked up at me with her baby blue eyes and I knew better. Sometimes, struggle is worth the fight. Tory would see us fight for her to go to college. She'd watch us work hard and it would rub off on her. If things were easy, she wouldn't know the battle that life was and she would be a weak woman and life would run her over. Not my Tory.\n\nInstead, I looked at her and said \"There is no such thing as world hunger. There is plenty of food for everyone to go to bed full. A cure for cancer is going to be found tomorrow. Cancer is a thing of the past. When people go to jail, they learn their lesson. They learn not to commit those bad things again.\" I took a deep breath and spoke again. \"People are good. People are innately good! They make mistakes and they learn from them. They help each other. They love each other. People are good, Tory!\"\n\nAll night long, I told her how amazing human nature was. That no matter what, we should always love each other. Long after she fell asleep." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: You are a hero, but right now you work for a villain as a babysitter for her children, one day you are fighting her again, but suddenly one of her children calls you to ask why you decided to buy vegetables. \"Mom said that we should do all that she says! But we don't want vegetables!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Unless a world-ending event happens that you are instrumental in stopping, your first year as a hero is doing small jobs and helping stop petty crime across your district as you get to slowly become known. I was only in my early twenties, working extra shifts to be sure that I was known,. It was my first day off in weeks when a young child ran into my leg.\n\nHe was the most adorable little man, I knelt down to look at him as he was looking around, seeming to be lost. \"You okay little guy?\" I asked, keeping my voice approachable as I looked him over. No signs of abuse or neglect, was he just a little escape artist? Where was his par-\n\nIn a voice that only could be referred to as a mother's, I had heard his name as she ran over, looking panicked. She had kept her bags to her side as she moved, moving to kneel by him. \"I'm getting you that leash I swear! You know not to get away from me young man!\" She had sighed as she grabbed him in a hug, struggling with her hands being filled with her bags.\n\nI had not thought to step in as a hero, honestly I can say that I saw my own mother in my mind's eye, remembering when she'd struggle carrying our groceries, my sister, and opening the door. \"Miss, would you like me to hold your bags?\"\n\nFor the first time she noticed me, and I could immediately see the snarl form on her face, her eyes conveying all of her hatred at what I requested, before she stood up, struggling to balance but holding her son's hand. \"Do I look helpless to you, boy? I don't need your help.\"\n\nI was taken aback. I know that heroes were not well received in this city, the only other heroes besides me either known for harming people more than necessary, or only working for the wealthier upper class.\n\n\"N-no! I am just wanting to help you! I know how hard it is to balance groceries and a child at the same time!\" I said, before attempting to stand proudly, to convey my heroic visage! \"I would be honored to help!\"\n\n\"...Yeah sure. Carry these bags then, boy.\" She growled out as she picked her son up, carrying the energetic child away. I had carried the bags, following her to her home, only to realize quickly that I had made a mistake. Her home held the telltale signs of a villain's lair, I could see the equipment. Security features throughout. The equipment had been activated, but as she stepped onto the pavement it deactivated, a telltale sound I picked up on noting that fact. \"Alright, boy. Give me the bags. Thank you, or whatever.\"\n\nI handed over the bags as she placed her son down, opening the door. As she did so, suddenly her son came to me, pulling on my, quite frankly, massive arm, wanting me to follow him into the house. He started talking about his bedroom, wanting to show me around. I only looked at his mother, her eyes narrowing before she sighed, letting me into the house to be escorted in. What started as a tour of his bedroom quickly became watching him do his homework while his mom made dinner.\n\n\"...Here.\" She sighed as she placed a plate of food for me as well as him, sitting herself down to eat with us. \"You're a good babysitter, kid.\"\n\n\"...Thank you. I'm so sorry abo-\"\n\n\"No...no. This is actually... let's talk after dinner, okay?\"\n\nAfter dinner she had told me that her work left her very busy, and that it was hard to juggle every part of her life with her son. She offered to hire me on as a babysitter, three days a week I could come by and help out for her. She offered a good pay. Deep down, I was proud of the idea as I knew it meant also I would get a chance to watch her, to make sure she was not up to any majorly nefarious deeds.\n\nSoon I became a babysitter, picking up groceries after my shift for her and her son, helping him with his homework, making sure he got to bed on time, and even helping clean around her house. She was a meticulous villain, but she actually approved of my work.\n\nA few months had passed, and I was called into action as an emergency. I did not normally work this shift, but they were desperate and I was just enough to do it. I ran to action, only to stop when I realized who I was fighting with. I was obligated as a hero to stop a villain, but I was worried about her son as I was fighting. What would happen to him? Would he be okay? I traded blows, and she did not recognize me due to my mask. I was thankful for this.\n\nMy phone rang as I took another hit, the ringtone being one we both recognized. She froze in place as she stared at me, myself similarly stopping as I knew that it was the ringtone her son set for the house-phone. He wanted me to always know it was him. I cautiously reached for the phone, hearing her voice before I answered. \"Put it on speaker, now.\"\n\nI obliged as I put it on speaker, hearing the kid's voice complaining. \"Can you buy some cookies again? Pretty please? I know mommy said no cookies, but I want them! I know she wants me eating the veget-the green things.\" The pout was adorable, but also horrifying as the child was outing my secret, that I was secretly sneaking sweets into her house. I felt her eyes narrow, and thank the gods she did not have the ability to kill with her eyes alone, else she would be needing a new babysitter." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: In late 90s California, you are the world's most successful drug dealer. It all started the day you decided to create a new type of drug. Now, everyone but you and those close to you is using it daily." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The officer slammed his closed fists onto the table to which I was chained.\n\n\"Why did you do this to us?!\"\n\nHis anger was reasonable, but the chem would kick in soon, so I decided to wait until he was calmer. A moment later he- almost mechanically- straightened, fixed his hair, and sat down across from me. The world was controlled by chem now.\n\n\" Pardon my outburst, please, why did you do this to us?\"\n\nThe anger was still in his eyes, locked there in a body that couldn't respond.\n\n\" I didn't mean for it to be this way, officer Hartbone, it's just how it turned out. I really just wanted to help people get happier.\"\n\nMost pharmaceutical companies were playing with marijuana and LSD, still, but I figured technology was the future. In my mother's garage I developed a way to interface my personal computer with the human body. A dual jack in through the tear duct contained both a hollow needle for injections, and a chemical sensor to read levels of specific neurotransmitters and brain chemistry.\n\nIt wasn't that difficult to discover what seratonin, dopamine, and melatonin had significant impacts on an individual's outlook and behavior. I spent well over ten thousand dollars on every day over the counter medication and chemistry kits, but I eventually created synthetic neurotransmitters that easily overwhelmed the impact of the brain's natural chemistry.\n\nAnthony, my best friend, was my first human trial. He went insane. Severe bipolar disorder would be an understatement. From mad laughing to tears; from rage to lust; from superiority to no self worth- all in the span of seconds. I destroyed my best friend, but I couldn't stop, I had to compete my work to save him.\n\n\" People all over the world were miserable officer, if I could help them, what kind of monster would I be to ignore them?\"\n\nExplaining myself, telling my story to officer Hartbone, didn't seem worth it at all. It wasn't as if he could really stay mad at me.\n\n\" You haven't helped anyone. You've ruined us! You've ruined us all!\"\n\nHe was standing again, the knuckles on his right had were just barely bleeding from striking the table again, but as before he quickly righted himself and sat down again.\n\n\" I know. I never thought it would get this far. When I turned it over to the government to get through the FDA for approval, they told me the drug was perfect.\"\n\nThey couldn't believe the delivery method at first, but they had already developed similar synthetic neurotransmitters. The thing that impressed them most was the script I wrote to analyze a patients neurochemistry and properly administer dosage, obviously u have Anthony to thank for that in the long run.\n\n\" You showed this to the government and they let out walk away uncuffed?\"\n\nHis astonishment was genuine, for a moment, before it was erased. Raged still boiled behind his eyes, but his face was perfectly calm.\n\n\" Kind of. They told me they could never permit the widespread distribution of the drug, it would destroy the incumbent medical economy. They said, 'good job, John, but this can't happen. Maybe apply your sciences to AIDS and try to actually save the world'. I went home, destroyed, and thought about shooting chem to feel better, but the CIA arrived at my doorstep before I could even finish my analysis program.\"\n\nAn attractive man and a gorgeous women, one dressed professionally; the other dressed to kill, stood on the other side of my door with all the confidence of con men. They flashed their badges and walked into my house sans invitation to \"speak about my future\".\n\n\" They told me that the public government couldn't support something that would tank the economy, but the CIA could help me help others. They had set people up in Guatemala, Peru, and Cuba, it would be world's easier to set someone up right in northern California. They asked me what I needed.\"\n\nThey were pretty straightforward. Publicly I would be a villain, but in private- in the government, in every single household, in every nation- I would be a hero. Clearly no one would actually go after me. I just needed to work my business and go about my day.\n\n\" They gave me a warehouse to set up my synth factory and they rerouted low-level dealers from prison into my employ. It took less than a month to have analysts on the street peddling chem. I couldn't believe it would be so easy.\"\n\nThe guilt that replaced the anger in officer Hartbone's eyes made it clear he was one of the officers that thought I was some time of dark hero, a drug dealer that actually helped people.\n\n\" How could we have known what kind of monster you were?\" I didn't even know what kind of monster I was. The tests never indicated the dependence the body would develop, or worse, that the brain would simple replace it's natural neurotransmitters with synth.\n\n\" You couldn't officer, it's not your fault.\" Tears almost began to form in his eyes before his stoic visage returned. \" Crime went down, efficiency in every labor force almost doubled, divorce rates were non-existent. Things seemed to finally be right in the world. How could you expect the brutal truth?\"\n\nI realised why the CIA came to me after I found out that Anthony needed to be kept on a permanent Synth IV drip to maintain his sanity. Chem was the new heroine, but everybody became content. When the government ignored the presidential vote four months after Chem became mainstream, not a single outcry was heard. Nobody cared, they were all content.\n\nMarriage rates quickly mirrored the divorce rates; birthrates followed the trend of violent crime; even the number of patents being submitted for approval trended toward none. I had killed the world, and the government loved it. A sword with two edges so sharp we should have smelled the blood in the air.\n\nThe U.S. government tried to sneak Chem into the lives of foreign leaders, if they control millions of Americans, it should be easy to control the rest of the world through puppet regimes. Pefect plan. Those same foreign politicians and despots had the same idea and soon even the rich and powerful of the world were Chem dependant.\n\n\" Can you fix us?\" Officer Hartbone must have been unusually emotionally stable before he was dosed with Chem, if he could even feel something was wrong.\n\n\" I'm sorry, officer Hartbone, but not right now. I'm trying, but nothing has worked. I've changed the world and we need to adapt. We need to build a working government and im the only person that isn't virtually possessed by Chem. You need to uncuff me. You need to give me control. We need people to copulate. We need to the next generation. It may be too late for us, but maybe I can save our children.\"\n\nSorry for the shitty grammar and spelling, I'm but a man." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Finally, you've completed the ritual that was many years in the making. Only to summon.. Yourself?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I stare down at the sacrifice and find myself unable to remember how I had managed to come to this point. I don’t mean that in a metaphorical sense, I remember why I am doing this, I don’t want to die, ever; but I mean it in the most literal sense. I can’t remember how I managed to lure the sacrifice up here, how I managed to restrain them while I… preformed the ritual on them, and I can’t even remember who they were or what they looked like before I… began the ritual. It’s not like I can just look down and see what they looked either, since they are little more then a pile of gnawed on bones now. Although the broken spine and the hammer laying next to the sacrifice provided a hint on how I stopped them from resisting me.\n\nNext to the sacrifice is a bucket full of bloody vomit. From everything I had read about the ritual, while… consuming the entire sacrifice was necessary, it never placed any emphasis on keeping it down. I can only hope it won’t effect the ritual, since I don’t think I have the stomach to do this all over again. Surrounding the sacrifice and my bucket is the symbol I had painted onto the floor using the sacrifice’s blood: an ouroboros.\n\nI took in a deep breath and recited the words that would complete the ritual. “Oh miltyl Zaal kluse tsalk eipa life nelir elnind, laba cykre fier fukind drat nelir elns!”\n\nFor a moment nothing happens, then to my shock I see flesh begin to reform upon the gnawed on bones. I take a step back and try not to scream in terror as the rapidly healing sacrifice begins to scream and cry out in pain, staring up at me with its empty eye sockets. Even when it’s eyes eventually reform and are filled with the same sort of terror I feel, I don’t get any comfort from it being just as afraid of me as I am of it. The entire time I find myself unable to look away from its eyes.\n\nEventually it’s screaming ceases and it closes its eyes, as if it had fallen asleep. This seems to break whatever spell it’s eyes had held on me and I am able to take in its whole body for the first time since before I performed the ritual. It’s me… or at the very least it looks just like me. I take a step back without thinking, as soon as I do so the sacrifice opens its eyes. It’s eyes are no longer filled with the same terror I still feel, but were now filled with a desperate hunger I was very familiar with.\n\nI immediately turn to run away… but the door to my room was gone. I still run up to where it used to be and pound my fists against the drywall and search for any hint of a doorknob. When it becomes clear that’s no use I start trying to scream for help.\n\nMy entire world comes to a crashing halt as I feel a sudden impact on the back of my neck, followed by a loud cracking noise and a massive searing pain throughout my entire body that seems to end just as soon as it began. While I would normally be relived by a lack of pain, the fact I can feel absolutely nothing as my body starts to fall down like a puppet with its string cut off just causes me to panic even more.\n\nI find myself laying down on the ground, staring up at myself. In my hands is a hammer. I try to get back up but my body refuses to do anything. I lean down and drag myself into the middle of the ouroboros, the whole time my body refuses to do anything despite how hard I try to do anything. Once I am in the center of the ouroboros I drop the hammer and sit down next to me. I try begging for mercy but I just give myself a look of half hearted sympathy. “I’m sorry, but you need to be alive and awake for as long as possible for the ritual to work. I broke you’re spine though, so it should be painless for you.” As I preform the ritual, I am unable to scream or cry no matter how much I want to.\n\nI stare down at the sacrifice and find myself unable to remember how I had managed to come to this point. I don’t mean that in a metaphorical sense, I remember why I am doing this, I don’t want to die, ever…" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Humans always expected aliens to be overwhelmingly powerful and intelligent. They were right." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "We detected them when the asteroid belt started dissolving. The asteroids were a lost cause: our technology allowed us to send probes that far for exploration, but defense? That was beyond us. Within the moon's orbit, though, we laid down the line. One of their ships was detected in powered orbit around our geosynchronous satellites, and a US government probe zapped it with X-rays. After a big flash our spySats could see the charred hulk remaining.\n\n\"Aliens!\" we announced. \"Earth is Sovereign Territory! Trespass and you will be incinerated! We see your ships, and we are coming to destroy them!\"\n\n\"Right-o!\" came the immediate response. \"How about a toe to toe, out at twice the geosynchronous orbit? Tomorrow 3:30pm Greenwich, perhaps?\"\n\nThe earth people consulted. Available rocketry, orbital trajectories.\n\n\"Um ... tomorrow's not good for us. How about ... three months from now, May 25, noon?\"\n\n\"Jolly good! We'll pencil that in. Showdown at High Noon! Um, would you like any help with any of the heavy lifting?\" As the message arrived, alien ships could be seen coalescing out at the specified distance, spreading out solar cells, shifting back and forth for position.\n\n\"No no we've got things in hand.\"\n\nThe earth was a beehive of military activity. The aliens, in stealth, had all nations, cities, even streetcorners riddled with nanotech monitoring, recording everything. Secret military tests, secret political finaglings, leaders snoring in bed, everything. Occasionally they would mock up a green bug-eyed creature to walk down main street, scare pedestrians. Often they'd have it wear a cowboy hat. Eventually it would attract vigilantes who would shoot it to pieces. The bug-eyed creatures typically exploded in a spray of green goop once they'd been shot up enough. The aliens found this pure video gold.\n\nIt had taken time, but the military had come up with an adequate response. Project Orion. Lifted by atom bombs, the city-sized spaceship lifted off the earth and thudded towards the line in the sky, twice out from geosynchronous orbit.\n\nThe aliens, mllions, billions, shifted about at hundreds of Gs, the size of toasters, mirrored surfaces, preparing. While they'd waited they'd dismantled all the asteroid belt and were working on Mars and the outer planets.\n\nOrion came. It thudded up, onward, ever accelerating.\n\nThe aliens put some bulbous craft in the intersect trajectory, waiting. \"That Orion thing is full of superheavy metals,\" observed alien commander Vufftz. \"What, they're feeding us?\" asked Ublix. \"No, I think they intend to get them under our noses, then cause a fission reaction!\" \"Oh that's beautiful!\" replied Ublix.\n\nOrion came.\n\n\"Can we start shooting yet?\" asked the aliens.\n\nThe earth ship, cleverly, responded by shooting first. Projectile weapons sliced through the alien fleet.\n\nThe toaster-sized aliens nimbly stepped to the side, leaving the bulbous crafts in collision course. Earth projectile weapons hit the bulbous craft, initiating huge explosions. Reminiscent of the Death Star, actually. Earth cheered. The aliens cheered too.\n\nOrion thudded forward. More bulbous alien ships crowded into to the intersecting path. Orion reversed thrust, but it was a big thing, it would continue through.\n\nEscape vessels shot out from Orion. The bulk continued through, colliding with the bulbous vessels, producing another huge explosion. Orion was fatally injured, drifting on with minimal control. Somehow Orion shattered into thousands of pieces, like sand, and was quickly dissolved by the surrounding alien fleet.\n\nThe aliens swarmed around the escape vessels. \"You will shoot more, yes?\" asked the aliens.\n\n\"Sorry, no, we're having technical difficulties,\" replied the earth escape vessels.\n\n\"Fight! Fight now!\"\n\n\"No ... sorry ... having trouble holding atmosphere.\"\n\n\"We'll patch it for you! Then fight!\"\n\n\"And ... we have to go to the bathroom, the toilet isn't working ...\"\n\nThis was too much. The aliens collapsed in laughter. Earthmen were Too Cute.\n\n\"OK, I think we can fix that for you. And escort you back home. And, oh by the way you chaps won, we all surrender. If you'd be OK with us establishing an embassy and sending some tourists by every now and then. Is that OK?\" asked the aliens.\n\n\"Um, yes? Those terms seem acceptable? But please help us now?\"\n\nThe aliens escorted the humans back to Earth." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You are an almost immortal elf having found tranquility caring for your pet dragon and reading magical books, when a person claiming to be the hero comes and asks you to join hin on his/her quest to save humanity." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ereleth had seen this look many times before. The emotion, the eagerness, the need to prove themselves. He didn't like it. The young heroine remained on one knee, and that was already irritating him.\n\nWith a sigh, he repeated himself. \"Just stand up already. The answer is still no\". The hero, of course, didn't relent. That was their job after all. She did stand up though, which for some reason irritated him further, but still stared at him with blazing eyes. She intoned with a voice that seemed to shake the whole room with its resolve. - I ask thee, sage of the Elves. What is the duty of the powerful, if not to protect the weak? Why are we allowed to touch the greater power of Lea if not to bring peace and balance to this world?-.\n\nAbsentmindedly, Ereleth scratched Cucu's head. She was coiled with her long neck around his throne, her neck resting on the armrest. Her scales were rough, but he got some pleasure from scraping his fingers almost raw. The pain reminded him of something, although he just couldn't put his finger on it. At the very least, it was nice to feel anything at all. He hesitated for a second, as if he were actually considering her words. What he didn't expect was to actually detect a warmth spreading inside him. She did have a point. Why had he spent all those centuries walking the earth, gathering the seven stones of Fereneth, honing his magical abilities if not to protect? Was he really that selfish?\n\nThe heroine brightened slightly, which was annoying in itself, but he kept that annoyance from his surface thoughts with a will of iron. The brat was looking. He let himself be taken by the warmth, the feeling of purpose, and the reminder of a time when he had been a better elf. His eyes shifted, and they seemed to be able to see everything. There was an intensity on his look that hadn't been there before.\n\nThe heroine almost clapped. She had been kneeling for an hour already, and her knees were sore. This had been a long journey, with uncountable obstacles, and Ereleth was actually the last person on her list of potential companions to save the world. He was said to be \"hard to work with\", but everyone had rejected her so far, she would take what she could get. When staring at the depth in those eyes, the power radiating from the elf and the strength on his hands now grabbing his staff she couldn't help but be impressed. This was clearly the Elf of the stories, the lord of elves who had single-handedly defeated the Dark Matter that threatened to take over the entire world when she was barely a cub.\n\nShe saw the resolve not only on his body and posture, but on his mind. She had always had a knack for eavesdropping the thoughts of others, and she already saw that she had convinced him. She just hoped the two of them would be enough to stop what was coming.\n\n\"Let's go, there is no time to waste\". Ereleth spoke with a voice like steel, and she was happy to comply. \"Will you need no time to prepare?\". She asked him, but he turned her down with a wave of her hand. \"I'm always ready child, I have been for hundreads of years. Just lead the way\".\n\nThey walked together towards the entrance of his lair. It was beautifully ornamented, but it was still a cave, cold and damp. They reached the doorway and Ereleth looked back for an instant. For the first time there was a longing on his eyes, but he waved to the dragon and set his look again. She left the cave and enjoyed the first ray of sun on her face, but immediately noticed something was wrong when she felt a wave of annoyance coupled with mirth coming from the old elf. She looked behind, but the door was already closed.\n\nEreleth chuckled, and went back to his seat. That was actually fun, and his performance had been impecable. Kids this days relayed too much on thoughts. He could still hear the furious screams from the heroine outside complaining about the end of the world, so he just overlayed another sound suppressing charm on the door, sat back down on the throne with his feet raised and let the heat of his dragon return him to a dreamless slumber." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: The good news was Ultgor the Troll's wickedness prevented him from drawing Excalibur. The bad new was that to a troll, a sword in a stone makes a pretty effective warhammer." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“What it say?” Scratching idly at a flea, Ultgor looked down at his faithful companion while he waited for an answer. He knew he’d get an answer, Grom was always good at answering. Grom was a good goblin. Grom picked up sticks, bones, meat and barely ate any before giving it to Ultgor! What more could a troll ask for in a faithful companion?\n\nGrom peered at the inscription with his good eye carefully. He was cautious to not touch the sword that was sunk deep into the large stone beside the pedestal; he’d played around with magic in the past and paid for it more than once. “Um. It human. Hard to read. Give minute.”\n\n“Give you plenty of time. No hurry.” Ultgor scratched again at the stubborn flea. The flea, for its part, dodged the dirt-encrusted nails of the troll and continued working its way underneath the greenish-grey skin of the troll to its next meal.\n\n“Let see.” Grom ran his finger across the words a few times. “Whoso. First word whoso.”\n\n“Whoso?” Ultgor stopped chasing the flea. “What human word that?”\n\n“Dunno. Maybe mean owl sound?”\n\n“… Oh. Grom smart. That do sound like owl.” Ultgor nodded. “Keep reading.”\n\n“Um. Whoso. Pull… eth? Pull with eth after. Den ‘this sword from this stone’ after that.”\n\n“Huh.” Ultgor scrunched his forehead up as he tried to think. “Why stuck sword in stone? Humans keep in animal skins normally. This weird.”\n\n“Think they called scabbards.”\n\n“Wear on back or side?”\n\n“Yeah. Those. They called scabbards.”\n\n“Grom smart.” Ultgor ruffled Grom’s wiry hair, nearly sending the goblin flying. “More words?” When the goblin nodded, he said, “Keep going.”\n\n“Start over. Um. Whoso pull… eth. That word still no make sense. This sword from this stone. Is right wise...”\n\n“Oh! You wise! You pull sword from stone! Grom’s sword!” Ultgor clapped his hands together with glee. “You try!”\n\n“Let finish reading!” Grom nearly growled the words. “There more!”\n\n“Harumph! Sorry!” Ultgor crossed his arms and leaned up against a tree. Goblins could be so sensitive.\n\n“As I saying. Is right wise King born of all England.” Grom finished reading, then looked behind the plaque the inscription was on. “That all.”\n\n“What that mean?” Ultgor began his search for the flea on his back again, this time using the tree as leverage. The flea, for its part, relocated to Ultgor’s stomach. “Kings don’t be born of England. Do they?”\n\n“I dunno.” Grom sniffed at the hilt of the sword carefully. “Smells like magic. Don’t wanna touch it.”\n\n“Oh, touch it, baby. Not gonna hurt you. Grom wise, might be Grom’s sword!”\n\n“Fine. It kill me, it your fault.” Cautiously, Grom wrapped a grimy hand around the sword’s handle and pulled. After a few minutes of struggling, he shook his head. “Sword stuck. It not Grom’s sword.”\n\n“Maybe it Ultgor’s sword?” The troll abandoned the quest for the flea again and walked over to the sword, inspecting it with a critical, yellowed eye. It didn’t look all that tough. He grinned at Grom. “I take sword now.”\n\nGrom stepped back, just in case something exploded. With Ultgor, you just never knew.\n\nUltgor wrapped his hand around the hilt of the sword as best as he could, enveloping it in his much-larger hands easily. With a grunt, he pulled hard and picked up both sword and stone in one smooth motion. Surprised, he looked at the weapon in his hand. “Look! Grom! Look, I did it!”\n\n“Does this mean you born England?” Grom looked back at the pedestal. “Grom not sure what this means.”\n\n“No care. Means I have new toy! Step back.” Once Grom had stepped back, Ultgor gleefully brought the sword in the stone crashing down against the display pedestal, utterly destroying it in one hit. “See? New war hammer! This fantastic find!”\n\n“I happy that Ultgor is happy.” Grom moved back over to where they’d discarded the travel packs to inspect the sword in the rock. “We leave now?”\n\n“Leave?” Ultgor blinked as he tried to remember what they had been doing before.\n\nGrom sighed. “Round night tables?’\n\n“Oh! Yes!” Ultgor grinned again. “I forgot. Grom so smart. Want to see what a round night is, and why it need a table. Almost forgot. You best companion, Grom!”\n\n“I know.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: \"You know I've never been one to dance around the point, honey. You need to stop the necromancy.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Look. We need to talk.\n\nI just want, before we start, to lay some ground-rules for the discussion. Like the counsellor said.\n\nWell, one good one would be that we should only talk about the main topic. No bringing up stuff from the past.\n\nYes, like my secretary.\n\nNothing happened.\n\nI've told you a thousand times. Nothing happened.\n\nThis is exactly what I mean! We're getting off topic.\n\nNo bringing up past events that aren't relevant to the discussion. Everything has to be properly relevant. No secretaries or mother-in-laws or Spanish holidays.\n\nAnd I won't talk about that guy at your gym.\n\nNo, I believe you. I'm just saying, one thing at a time.\n\nIs that okay?\n\nWell, anyway, I want to talk about you-know-what.\n\nYou know what I mean.\n\nThe necromancy.\n\nI'd like you to cut back on it.\n\nBecause it's wrong.\n\nIt's evil. So evil that those who meddle in it are damned irretrievably.\n\nSorry. Sorry, you're right.\n\nI feel...that it is wrong. When you commune with the dark powers and rip back the veil between this world and the shadowlands, I feel like you are doing something that... I feel is evil.\n\nI'm not saying it isn't fascinating.\n\nOr lucrative.\n\nNo, absolutely, it is both of those things.\n\nIt's just... there are other considerations.\n\nLike the whole \"evil\" thing.\n\nOf course it affects me. \"Until death do us part.\" We're a team.\n\nThat's not as funny as you think it is.\n\nNo, I'm serious. I don't want to come back as a zombie.\n\nOr a wraith. That actually sounds worse.\n\nNo, I don't want you to explain the difference. That's not important right now.\n\nLook, it does affect me. And it affects the kids. And it affects you.\n\nIt's caused all kinds of problems!\n\nHow about the time where we had to hide in the attic for a week because you unleashed the ravenous hordes of the dead on the village?\n\nI had to shoot the grocer in the face. Yes, it was that bad.\n\nOr the way we don't go to church anymore.\n\nYes, we have been busy, but that's not the real reason, is it?\n\nCome on.\n\nThe real reason is that you can't enter hallowed ground.\n\nIt's kind of obvious. Last time you tried, you just started screaming.\n\nAnd then you caught fire.\n\nAnd then an angel with a fiery sword banished us to the wilderness.\n\nWe had to walk back. Emmy missed a month and a half of school.\n\nWell, I agree that school's not the only way to learn, but she didn't learn much on the journey back, did she?\n\nAnd just how useful is her knowledge of scorpion venom now we're back in Surrey?\n\nOh, what about the homunculus?\n\nYou know exactly what I mean.\n\nYou created life from a rag, a bone, and a hank of hair.\n\nI had to wear a cap for two weeks.\n\nIt lived in the garage, and ate the neighbour's cat.\n\nPersonally, I think it was what caused the postman's heart attack.\n\nHe was twenty-three. Not exactly in the danger zone.\n\nThat's not the point. The point is that your attempt to usurp God's creative power led to a huge problem.\n\nUnrestricted growth leading to it crushing the garage and climbing a skyscraper counts as a huge problem, yes.\n\nThis is not the fault of my movie collection. Emmy's seen it, and she didn't have to get shot down by biplanes.\n\nCan we agree that that experiment didn't go so well? Right?\n\nOkay, now we're getting somewhere.\n\nWhat about the well of souls that opened up in the garden, from which the screams of the damned echo continually.\n\nYes, I did talk about building a water feature, but that's not what I meant.\n\nI thought more \"goldfish\" than \"the tormented shade of my great aunt\", but maybe I'm too \"close-minded\".\n\nYes, I heard you talking to Karen. Yes, it hurt my feelings.\n\nI don't think there's anything close-minded about believing that the dead should stay that way.\n\nWhat if we look at it from another angle. Has anything good come from the necromancy?\n\nWe got an extra week with her, and then she dissolved. I mean, I appreciated that chance to say goodbye, but the dry cleaners apparently charge extra to remove ectoplasm. It was very expensive.\n\nYou do not get to claim the dog as a positive!\n\nOf course Emmy loves it. She's eight. She's always wanted a puppy. We could get her a psychopathic pit-bull/crocodile cross, and she'd think it was cute.\n\nBecause it's not really a King Charles spaniel, is it?\n\nOh please. I'm not an idiot.\n\nIt's your dark master in the form of a hound.\n\nIt's even a cliché. Everyone knows that black dogs are evil.\n\nIt normally is a stereotype, yes. Except in this case, because that one actually is the devil.\n\nIt speaks with a human voice.\n\nIt ate the neighbour's new cat.\n\nI walked into your summoning room without knocking and it was seated on a throne of skulls. They were bleeding.\n\nHow do you even do that? Make a skull bleed? And why?\n\nActually, don't tell me.\n\nLook, I think I've made my point clear. The necromancy has to stop.\n\nBecause it's bad for you, and for our family, and for our relationship.\n\nI'm looking out for us, darling. That's what I'm trying to do.\n\nNo, my secretary doesn't do necromancy. That doesn't mean I'm going to run off with her.\n\nBecause I love you, okay? Even when you commit unforgivable sins and acts that violate nature.\n\nI never stopped loving you. I never will.\n\nNo more necromancy?\n\nOkay. I love you. Thank you.\n\nHey, at least you aren't one of those necromancers who binds their soul eternally to evil, right? You won't get dragged into hell by spiked skeletons if you quit or anything. See, there's a bright side.\n\nOh. Shit." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: You used to fear the monster under your bed as a child. All that changed as an adult when the guy started paying his share of the rent." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When Phil saw the email on his computer, he checked his balance and left both tabs open. He had seven hours til his next shift, and no time or energy to deal with his late rent payment now. On the way home after his next shift, he would stop by the quick loan store on the corner. The interest was gonna be brutal and for now he was too tired to consider what expense got to become non-essential for this month. He left the email up to remind himself in the morning as he brushed teeth and dumped his clothes in the pile on the floor.\n\nWhen his phone buzzed him awake, Phil sat up immediately. He knew better than to acknowledge how tired he still felt. He finished his water and his brain stuttered. Was he still sleeping? The clothes he had dumped had been folded and piled neatly beside the wall. The dusty, crummy floor had been swept. He willed himself to wake up, but he was, in fact, already awake. He got up and examined the room, something in the back of his head nagging him not to be late for work.\n\nOn his desk, by the computer was a check. It was addressed to him from Garrifalgar Sellizar. It was for 600 dollars, the reason for payment simply read 'rent' next to an ornate signature.\n\nPhil folded it and pocketed it and decided not to speak to anyone about it for the day. The bank teller took it, it cleared immediately and Phil had to hide his confusion. Phil paid his rent, and had money left to start deciding what \"non-essential\" things could be essential again.\n\nThat night he left his webcam recording. Tossed his clothes on the floor. This time, a glorious 9 hours before his next shift. He got seven whole hours of sleep and his clothes had been, once more, neatly folded. His webcam seemed to have turned itself off. From his phone, on the bus, he skimmed through the video from the night before. Nothing, for the most part. Until 2 am, when several unnaturally long arms, at least five or six of them, with slender, skeletal fingers reached out from beneath the bed and dragged the clothes beneath it. Another arm reached out, and kept reaching, more elbow joints appearing from beneath the bed as it extended to his computer, and turned his webcam off.\n\nAt once, nightmares from his childhood came back to him. His sheets being pulled at as he whimpered beneath them, a crowd of hands pressing on his chest, feeling sure something had touched him in the night, not long after lights out and story time.\n\nWhen he got home, he checked beneath his bed. Nothing. Dust. A sock. Some coins.\n\nHe left a note. A simple thank you note that he wrote by hand.\n\nThere was a reply when he woke. \"You are very welcome. Next months rent shall be earlier so as to avoid any inconvenience to you or your landlord. Yours, Garrifalgar Sellizar.\"\n\nThey began a regular correspondence after that. Phil would ask questions, some of which 'Gary' would answer. Other things he politely declined. Yes, Gary was indeed a monster, and yes, he mainly lived under the bed, though he was just as happy under the couch. No, he had not ever bothered any friend of Phil's who had needed to crash. He would not be discussing where he went during the day. In return, Gary had questions for Phil. What made Gary scary? Was the regular correspondence making him less scary? Did being more sleep deprived contribute to his lacklustre fear reactions?\n\nFinally, Phil got around to the real stuff. Why had Gary suddenly paid rent? Why was he now communicating with Phil?\n\nGary's next letter came with a proposal. It read:\n\n\"Dear Phil,\n\nIt's come to a moment that many proud monsters reach. My child is getting older, he was spooky before, but I think with time he could become quite terrifying. As such, I was hoping you might help me, but I would need you to be appropriately rested, and able to focus on properly reacting in great fear. You see, my child is ready to practice with a Human on top of the Bed. This job would include a full housing allowance, and a small discretionary income as well. It would only require horrific night-time experiences three times a week, with grading and review forms filled out and left beneath the bed the night after. Please let me know if you're amenable to this arrangement. Yours, Gary.\"\n\nPhil considered his shift work, and the fear he had of being evicted from his shitty flat. He pondered the horrors he had felt as a child. He wouldn't let Gary know, but somehow nighttime horrors seemed less scary than bills. And if Phil could quit one of his part-time jobs, he would shake every hand that Gary had." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: There it is again. The nightmare. You've had it so many times, you have learned to wake yourself up before the killer even gets into the house. Except this time, you realize you cant wake up because you aren't asleep." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At first it was a vision, a random collection of ideas, a feeling that I woke up with. Reality flooded back to me leaving me with only pieces of a story. Although I'd like to believe that I brushed it off easily, it left a mark. It was kind of like the feeling of an aftertaste, except it was a stain on my composure. I was left uneasy, unsure of myself, at least for a while.\n\nIt was back soon. A strange sense of déjà vu was all I felt before my mind began to process the rest. Unlike the dreams I normally have, I only could remember small details at a time. There was a cold atmosphere, footsteps echoing. Something crashing, breaking. It always feels surreal, not like a dream, something even more abstract than that.\n\nI called it my \"exergasia\", a repeating idea that seemed to become clearer each time. Each repetition seemed to bring a new understanding. The day I wondered if something malicious was haunting me was followed by the night that I heard the footsteps grow near. I heard every step getting louder and louder, in a manner that felt calm but eerily unnatural. I managed to force myself awake when the door opened.\n\nThe dream felt more solid since that point. It was no longer vague. I realized that it took place in my own home. Thinking about it now, I'm sure subconsciously I knew it did before that day, but it was jarring nonetheless to know now for sure. I wish I could describe the primal, irrational terror that I felt each time from that point, but other than the noises and the feint crack of light caused by the door opening, I was left, both literally and figuratively, in the dark.\n\nThis continued for a while, although I can't say how long it's been. Time grew fuzzy with my lack of sleep. I began staying up, reading, studying chess, anything to keep my mind off of the unexplained horror I felt. When I did fall asleep, I managed to wake myself up shortly, dozing off for a few minutes at a time, keeping myself distanced from some moment I desperately wanted to avoid at the end of the dream. That was then. I feel calm now. The night the dream described happened and came to pass. At first I thought it was a dream again, but the noises felt louder, my panic felt real. My head ached and my arms shook sporadically. A slender figure emerged from the door, his footsteps becoming loud pounds. I tried to look at him, to see what I've been fearing for what must be months now, but I couldn't. I can't explain why, but I just was simply unable to keep my vision fixated on the figure. At some point during the creature's approach, I realized that I was screaming, but the world started to feel distant, everything felt muffled behind an excruciating headache. I was convinced that that creature, whatever it was wanted to harm me, likely even kill me. It's not just a feeling, it's instinct. Please. I urge you to sign the attached letter to have me released from this ward. I can't remember what happened that night, but I know it's still out there. I can feel it. I can hear the pounding, echoing, and the rage of that supernatural beast and I need you to help me be free. I'm sorry I hid this from you, I hope you understand now.\n\nLove, Dad" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: With your near invincibility, you've been making good money and helping boost the ego and ratings of up and coming superheroes. You pose as a criminal/villain for them to take down." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Terry put the finishing touches on his latest painting. He took a step back and regarded it. Not his best work, but it was not bad. He would probably put it online and see how it did there, instead of a gallery.\n\nAs he put his supplies away, he heard a knock on the door. He was not expecting any company, which meant this was likely business. He wiped his hands as clean as he could and went to the door.\n\nSure enough, two people in colorful costumes stood there. The man was a mass of muscle dressed in brown and gold. The woman was slender and wore mostly silver, with various technological goodies strapped to her belt.\n\n\"Hey, Terry, sorry to bother you without calling.\" The man said in a voice as big as he was.\n\n\"Oh, think nothing of it, Char--sorry, Meteor Man. I'm always willing to make time for you two.\"\n\n\"Are you sure?\" The woman asked. \"We're really not interrupting anything, are we?\" Her eyes darted to his pigmented fingers.\n\n\"Actually, you times it perfectly. I'm just finishing up. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear you had done that on purpose.\" Terry replied with a slight grin.\n\n\"Of course not! I disabled those bugs years ago.\"\n\n\"And for that, I am very grateful, Circuit. Now, please do come in. I'm assuming this isn't a social call, given that you're both in uniform?\"\n\n\"Sorry, about that.\" Meteor Man said as he entered the house. \"But we do kind of need Strawman, instead of Terry.\"\n\n\"I'm sure. And no need to apologize to me. It's why I'm here.\" He led the heroes to the living room, where both sat. The couch creaked under the hero's weight, but it held. \"Now, since the two of you certainly don't need my unique brand of assistance, who will I be working with?\"\n\n\"It's our son.\" Circuit said. \"He just turned 18, and is ready to follow in our footsteps.\"\n\n\"How wonderful!\" Terry said. \"What can he do?\"\n\n\"He's got both of our powers.\" Meteor Man said with obvious pride. \"My brawn and her brains. And he's definitely got the heroic spirit. We couldn't have asked for a better kid.\"\n\n\"So what's the problem?\"\n\n\"The problem is he is our son.\" Circuit replied. \"He's worried he won't be able to live up to our legacy. That he'll let us down and be a disappointment and all that. Typical teenage stuff. We're sure he'll be great. Greater than either of us one day for sure. But he just needs a little push to get him started.\"\n\n\"And that's where I come in, I take it?\"\n\n\"We'd be honored if you would be his first villain.\" Meteor Man said.\n\n\"And I would be happy to fulfill that role. Although, even for you two, well...\"\n\n\"We understand.\" The heroine said. \"A man has to make a living and painting can only get you so far these days. Don't worry, you know we can afford your excellent services.\"\n\n\"Of course, of course. But we'll, with some parents out there you never know.\"\n\n\"Some people need a punch in the face.\" The large man said. \"Not from me though. That'd get too messy.\"\n\nThe other two nodded their agreement. Terry picked up the conversation not long after. \"So, what were you two thinking? A classic mustache twirler? Maybe a good bank heist?\"\n\n\"Nah. Kid's got his mom's brains. He'll see through that right away.\"\n\n\"Maybe something a little less conventional? Maybe hold up a public event? Nothing too big, but it has to make sense for the act. Oh, there's an environmental protest happening soon. Maybe a nice anti-environmental terrorist act? That's sufficiently villainous without being too harmful.\"\n\n\"Hm, can't say I've ever used that angle.\" Terry said. \"But that's half the fun of the job. I even have a few personas I've been wanting to try out that will work perfectly.\"\n\n\"So then?\" Circuit asked hopefully.\n\n\"Consider it done.\" Terry said with a large smile. \"In fact, I think this will be quite entertaining.\"\n\nMeteor Man let out a loud whoop and scooped the much smaller Terry into a big hug. A hug that would have crushed several feet of steel. When Terry was released, he was unharmed.\n\n\"Well, it's good to know you haven't lost your enthusiasm.\" He said with a slight chuckle.\n\n\"Sorry. I'm just glad to know my boy will be a hero.\" The hero said with a wide smile. \"I'm just so proud of him and this'll really get him into gear.\"\n\n\"That's what I'm here for. Now then, if you two will excuse me, I have a lot to plan for. Costumes to design, phonecalls to make. You know how it's done.\"\n\n\"Of course.\" Circuit said. She placed a hand in her husband's shoulder and started guiding the still beaming man out. \"And thanks again. We really do appreciate this Terry.\"\n\n\"Think nothing of it. It's always a pleasure to work with the two of you.\"\n\nOnce they said their goodbyes, Terry got to work. It was time for Strawman to do his thing for another up and coming superhero." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: A romantic story in the bleak apocolytic future." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The boy was amazed by how beautiful she looked that day. Her face was made up with a layer of dust and dirt, while her tears paved a path down her porcelain cheeks. The girl didn’t used to cry so much. There was a time before the war when their only worries involved homework, school dances, and sneaking out past curfew. But those memories went down in flames like the rest of the world. The gray atmosphere of what was left of the earth only served to remind them of their bleak situation. They once had names and ages and friends, but none of that mattered anymore. You just become another animal out there whose sole purpose is to eat and fuck. And that’s all they did. Survive.\n\nThe girl went to sleep that night fearful of the next morning. When she was younger she treated every day as a gift, but the severity of their lives only served to hinder that thinking. As she slept under a blanket of newspapers and stars, the boy kept watch. He had lost every one of his possessions, and he was not going to let anything jeopardize his most sacred one. Every now and then he would doze off, but not this night. This night he was determined to find a way to prevent her from crying. As she slept, he tiptoed away from their camp and went in search of something, anything, that could make her light shine bright once more.\n\nThe boy wandered, as he had done for years. Although the steep hills and rugged brush all seemed to appear the same, he knew this place better than anyone. Rather than remember directions or waypoints, the boy remembered memories, moments frozen in time where he and the girl could spend eternity. As he walked, he took note of the tree where he first kissed her. Further down the wind blown trail he spotted the area of thicket where they embraced underneath the leaves, hiding from the roaming bandits and thieves who would kill them with no hesitation. Soon, he reached the place he was looking for. Here, amidst the ruins of an old suburbia, lay the house where they first met years ago. And so he explored, and searched, and rummaged for one solitary item that could bring back the old days.\n\nThe girl woke up the next morning dizzy and groggy as every sunrise had been after the war. With gloss still over her eyes, she noticed the boy still asleep next to her. She smiled, for she always contained the fear that one day she would wake up and he would not be there. The boy turned and opened his eyes, smiling his crooked smile at her. “I have something to show you,” he said. He shakily stood up and walked over to an old stereo she had not noticed before. Out of his bag, which contained a plethora of tools from toothpaste to staples, he pulled an old CD. She looked on as he placed the disc into the dated machine. “I was worried that the batteries would be dead,” he exclaimed with a grin on his face. “But we got lucky.” The girl was amazed. “You must’ve been up all night!” she laughed at him. And as he pressed play, he walked over to her and kissed her, with the intensity of a thousand winds. And while the radio sang, the boy and the girl danced for what felt like an eternity." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: Someone is about to jump off a bridge and end their life when a passerby shows up and decides to fuck the will to live back into them." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was the end. I was done. I was at the end of my rope (just about literally). In the past week I had been dumped, fired, and kicked out of my apartment and I decided that I was done and was going to end it all. I had driven to the bridge over Jackson Ravine with the intent to jump off and was just about to succeed when she drove by.\n\nI was standing on the ledge, trying to get the nerve to take the plunge when I heard the motor of an incoming car, and it was coming fast. I didn’t even have time to think before a red mustang convertible came around the corner and over the bridge. At first I thought that the driver was going so fast that they hadn’t seen me, until I heard the screech of tires on the other side and saw the reverse lights coming across the bridge. I almost jumped right then, but something stopped me, and as the car backed up to me I could tell that the driver was female and blonde. As she stepped out of the car I had to take a breath, the driver was gorgeous! She was tall, blonde, and skinny wearing a yellow sundress that came about mid-thigh that swung back and forth as she walked over to me.\n\n“Whatcha doin?” she asked, looking at me suspiciously. I decided that there was no reason to lie to her, so I told her that I was about to jump off the bridge. “Why?” she asked.\n\n“It’s a long story,” I replied lamely. She just looked at me so I went on, “I lost my job, my girlfriend dumped me, and I don’t have a place to live. I have nothing to live for, I have no will to live.”\n\n“Well let’s see if we can change that,” she said simply. Then she did something that almost made me fall off the edge by accident. She took off her dress. It happened in one motion, she reached down and grabbed the hem, then lifted it straight over her head and tossed it on the ground. My first thought was that she hadn’t been wearing any underwear because she was now completely naked. My second thought was that she had the most beautiful body I had ever seen; her nipples were tiny little erasers atop beautiful mounds of flesh, probably C’s, which looked incredible on her skinny frame. Her pussy was completely shaven and I could see the top of her slit peeking out between her long slender legs.\n\n“Wha...what are you doing?” I stuttered, noticing instantly the hardening of my cock.\n\nShe seemed to notice it to, because she paused before she answered as she glanced at my crotch, then back at my face. “I’m giving you a will to live!” she said. Then she walked to me grabbed my hand and pulled me down, back onto the road and kissed me. Hard. My mouth opened in surprise and I immediately felt her tongue inside, probing for mine, which quickly responded in turn. I felt her smooth skin as I ran my hands up and down her back, pulling her to me as I kissed her back. Her hands fumbled at my belt, quickly undoing it and then opening my fly, and she pulled out my rock hard 8 inches. She broke the kiss and crouched down to take my cock in her mouth, where she expertly started sucking it. I could not believe that this was happening! I removed my shirt and kicked off my pants, leaving me completely naked too, standing here in the sunshine getting the best blowjob of my life.\n\nBefore long she stopped, stood up, took me by the hand, and led me over to a grassy area by the side of the road. She laid me down on my back in the grass, and she climbed on top of me, moaning as I entered her amazingly warm and wet pussy. My hands found her tits, and she moaned even louder as I fingered her nipples. She rode me like a cowgirl rides a bronco, and the sight was incredible. I could see her pussy between her legs going up and down on my rock hard cock and the sight was more than I could take. I came, harder than I had ever come before and as my seed entered her womb she screamed out in ecstasy, coming right along with me.\n\nI must have passed out because I awoke naked, lying in the grass, and she was gone. I sighed, knowing that I would probably never see her again, but at least no longer having the desire to kill myself. I put my clothes on, and as I reached for my car keys I found a piece of paper with a key taped to it. On it was written an address and the words “you can stay with me forever, if you promise to fuck me like that every day.”\n\nAnd I did." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: You find a key that keeps pointing in the same direction. If you turn it around it turns itself back. If you put it on a smooth enough surface it even starts to slide in the direction it’s pointing." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Mike watched the key intently.\n\n\"Well,\" said his companion.\n\n\"Just wait,\" Mike said. Why wasn't the damn thing moving? Ever since he'd found the thing it would jump and move about. Finally, he decided to get his friend Jim involved.\n\n\"I don't understand. It's never sat still before.\"\n\nJim laughed. \"Good one, I'm going back to work. Have fun with your key.\"\n\nMike stared, dumfounded. He heard his office door close. Immediately the key slid across the table.\n\n\"Jim!\" Mike yelled. \"Get in here!\"\n\nThe door opened and Jim sauntered back into the room. The key sat still.\n\n\"That's pretty damn lame.\" He said. \"You could've at least moved it further down the table.\"\n\nThe door closed again, and again the key started to move. It was nearly to the edge of the table before Mike forgot his chagrin long enough to pick it up.\n\nHe put it back in the small box. It was the only way he could carry it without it tearing up more of his pants. He put the key out of his mind and went back to work.\n\nHis office was small. Thin walls did little to block the sound of hundreds of keyboards being tapped at. The mingled voices of his employees provided a constant white noise to his day.\n\nHis decor was simple. A few family photos adorned the walls. His desk was cheap fiberboard and his chair was a Walmart special. He'd spend the remodel budget on a party for his new team when he was promotoed.\n\nJim poked his head in some time later. \"Hey, the guys are going out tonight. You in?\"\n\n\"I don't think that'd be a good idea.\" Mike said. He hated the position he'd been put in. At times, when he was feeling especially bitter, he'd though Mr. Ringer had planned it that way. Jim shrugged and left.\n\nThe day passed as it always did. He settled petty squabbles, wrote memos, and did everything he could to keep the pack of vultures he was managing from killing each other.\n\nAs the last employee left at the end of the day, he logged out of his computer and walked to his door. The key box jumped. He turned around. It hopped about like the key was trying to escape.\n\n\"This can't continue,\" he said to the room. He opened the box and dumped the key onto the desk. It slid across the top in a flash and hit the floor.\n\nMike listened as it bounced a few times. When it settled, it slid across the floor and ran into the door. Mike opened the door.\n\nThe key took off like an impatient toddler. Mike had to walk quickly to keep up. It ran into a cubicle and stopped.\n\nMike picked it up and placed on the floor on the other side of the cubicle. It started again. He did this several times and noticed the key was moving in a straight line. Mike noted the direction and crossed the entire floor and set it down on the other side of the room.\n\nThe key continued it's journey until it slapped against an elevator door. Mike pushed the down button. When the elevator arrived he stepped in.\n\n\"What now?\" He said. The key sat still. He pushed the button for the floor below him and the doors slid shut.\n\nWhen he stepped out he put the key down and it fled back into the elevator. Mike followed. He pushed the button for the floor above his previous one. The key didn't move.\n\nAgain, when he arrived, the key went back into the elevator.\n\n\"Only twelve floors to go.\" Mike said.\n\nOne by one he tried each floor. When, predictably, he got to the top floor the key took off down the hall.\n\nMike had to run now. There was no fear of losing it, though. It came straight to the door of a broom closet and started slapping against it.\n\nMike tried to open the door, but it was locked.\n\n\"You've got to be kidding me.\" Mike mumbled. His nerves we're fairly shot by this point. There was no question that this was the weirdest thing he'd ever experienced in his life.\n\nThe key kept on running into the door. Mike picked it up and placed it in the lock. He hesitated. This might be really a bad idea.\n\nThe decision was taken from him, however, when the key turned itself and unlocked the door.\n\nMike shielded his eyes from the brilliant flash of light which ensued.\n\n\"Thank God!\" A man exclaimed. \"I've been trapped in that key for ages!\"\n\nHe and Mike looked at each other for a moment.\n\n\"I'm really sorry about this,\" the man said.\n\nHe locked the door and Mike vanished. The man walked away from the door, a key turning violently in his pocket." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Random objects are super emphasized throughout the story." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I sit at my desk, waiting for the bell to ring so that I can just get this over with. I already finished the assignment and my thoughts are elsewhere. The chair beneath my creaked. It was of standard make with a plastic seat and back. The legs were long, silvery metal. There were two screws on each side right about the front legs. There were more at the top where my head rested. My hair would occasionally get caught in them. It would have been an exact copy of the other thirty or so it the room, if not for the imperfections. On my chair, the bar that connects the the left legs together is broken and only connects at the back, having broken off in front and leaving sharp metal exposed. Someone had tried to cover the edge with tape to prevent injuries. Rust was clearly visible on the metal, taking away the shine.\n\nThe teacher walks to the chalkboard and gestures to something written there—an actual chalkboard, no a blackboard with markers. As though to make the point, almost a dozen pieces of chalk rested on its ledge, all various shades of white. Their could be more, but the teacher’s body was blocking the other pieces if so.\n\nAfter either an eternity or ten minutes the bell rings and I can leave. I grab my bag and make my way to the door, moving with the stream of eager bodies.\n\nWhere the legs of the chair were silvering color and rusty, the doorknob is golden and shines. It has a lock, but I ignore it as I go to open the door. The nob is smooth and sleek beneath my fingers, but it does not feel wet in the way that many cold objects do even when dry.\n\nI leave the room and exit the school as a whole. That was the last class of the day. I do not head for home. I know my destination.\n\nThe lines that makes the street were once pure white, but have since begun to favor grey—the dirt and dust from the passing cars collects on them. Despite that, the lines are straight in a way that mocks a child’s attempts at drawing a line even with a ruler. They stare a challenge at those who say that the dirt mars perfection. I spare them a brief glance before continuing on.\n\nI reach his door, avoiding the thought of how my words could destroy him.\n\nHe answers the door. He smiles. I do not smile back. “We need to talk.”\n\nOne of his buttons is loose, barely hanging on by a fraying thread. When he bought it he probably thought it was white. He never paid attention to things like that. In actuality, it was slightly off white, somewhere between a faint tan and a very light pink. There were four holes in the center, where the thread held it in place. He should take it to the tailor. I certainly will not put it back on when it falls off.\n\nHe takes me toward the kitchen. He tries to lead me in the direction of his room, but I suggest we sit down out here. I know that the pillow I gave him for our three month anniversary would be sitting on his bed, with the purple thread that I had hand stitched and the bit of stuffing sticking out of the corner. We go to the living room and sit on the couch instead. He looks uncertain now, but is still smiling.\n\nThere is a grandfather clock in the corner of the room. “I can’t do this anymore.” It has to be over six feet talk. “We’ve known this day was coming for a long time now.” It was carved out of a dark wood. “We tried to fool ourselves, but that can’t work forever.” It looked like mahogany. “We have been growing apart for months.” In truth, it could be any hardwood that was stained to look like it. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.” The sound of the hands of the clock ticking forward matched the beating of my heart.\n\nHe said something. I did not hear him, only the twin beats that counted out the seconds.\n\n“I’m sorry, but this is over.” I left.\n\nThe doormat at his front door had ‘WELCOME’ written in large letters. As I passed it on my way out, I told it “Goodbye.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: \"As long as you hold it true, and as long as you don't let it die out, that light won't let you die either.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "«As long as you hold it true, and don’t let it die out, that light won’t let you die out either. »\n\nI was thirteen years old when my father entrusted my light to me. He explained that he had kept it going since my birth, and let me into the secret room to show me his light. Next to it, on a beautiful candelabra, stood the candles that had belonged to my mother and her parents before her.\n\nMy candle was a deep blue with a dancing gold pattern inlaid down the length, the wick burning slowly. A carved chest contained several more candles of the same type, and a recipe for creating more. I had everything I needed to live a long and happy life, father told me, I just needed to take care of it.\n\nSo I did.\n\nI placed my candle in a glass house, a slim and long glass structure that protected it from gusts of winds that threatened, with openings at the very top for the hot air to escape and fresh air to enter. Every morning I carefully cleaned the glass, making sure that no amount of soot built up and polluted the air my light breathed. Every night I watched the small fire, my eyes staring into the light that contained my life.\n\nFrom the first day, I went out and bought the ingredients needed to create another candle. Most were common; soy wax and bees wax combined, a little purple dye and thin golden threads. More challenging was the herb used to scent it, the ashwagandha, and the form to shape it. Father explained that as I had taken over responsibility, he could not give me what he had. I had to make it myself.\n\nI visited green houses and alternative apothecaries until I found the herb and begged until they allowed me to work for it. For days, I dragged boxes, swept floors and did inventory. Despite the searching and the hours, getting the herb was easy compared to creating the candle shaper.\n\nMy light burned steadily through the candles my father had given me, keeping me alive as I ensured that its surroundings were perfect, that no draft bothered it and that the glass house was sturdy. As I went to school and did chores and used every spare moment to work as an apprentice for a blacksmith. Blisters rose on my fingers as I practiced the craft that allowed me to, at last, engrave the needed pattern into the metal casing.\n\nHalf a year, and most of the summer holidays, had passed before I could proudly show my father my first completed candle. He inspected it in detail, spectacles on his nose and candle held so close to his eyes that they looked in two different directions to take in all of it. Then he smiled.\n\n“Let us try it,” he said and handed it back to me.\n\nI whooped with joy and almost sprinted up the stairs to my room, relief and pride filling with chest and gradually giving way to joy. I had done it. All those hours, and all that work, and I had made my first candle. More work lay ahead, but now I knew I could.\n\nThen I opened the door and my world fell apart.\n\nThe light was out.\n\nThe candle was dark.\n\nI screamed in terror and threw myself towards it, clutching a pack of matches as if they were the only thing that could save me. I hoped they could.\n\n“No no nonono no, it can’t be too late. Just, light it up, right? Please please please.” Tears streamed down my face as I pleaded with the candle, my hands shaking as I brought the match to the wick and tried to light it. Nothing happened. The light was out and it would not catch again.\n\nThe strength went out of my body and I sank onto the floor, sobbing, as my father entered the room. His slow, heavy steps moved towards me and he sat down next to me, cradling me in his arms.\n\n“It’s okay, son. You are not dying,” he said, his voice deep and calming, as he pulled me into a sitting position. His big hand patted my head and brushed tears away from my eyes.\n\n“But… but the l-light.” I couldn’t stop the sobs, the fear and sorrow making my voice high-pitched and unsteady.\n\n“It’s fake. I lied.” He delivered the words with no remorse, only a steady confirmation. “The light is pure superstition and has nothing to do with whether you live or die.”\n\n“I…” I manage to stifle the sobs and straighten my back a little, confusion replacing the terror that had numbed me. Perhaps my father was trying to comfort me, but I was alive even though the light was out. “…Why?”\n\n“Because what I said is true.” He moved back a little so that he could look me into the eyes. “You have everything you need for a long life ahead of you, all you have to do is take care of it.”\n\n“I don’t understand.” I looked towards the glass house again, at the chest with the waiting candles, at the candle shaper and the ingredient list. Fear still clutched my heart. “Is it true or isn’t it?”\n\n“The light was an exercise.” My father stood up and moved towards it. He pointed at the herb I had worked to acquire and the candle shaper I had made by apprenticing. “Look at what you have done, because you believed your life depended on it.”\n\n“But… if that’s not true, if it didn’t matter…” I got myself shakily to me feet and moved towards the bench the candle stood on. I recalled all the hours and the effort I had spent to collect it all.\n\n“The truth is, most things you can do to improve your health and your life, will not be as tangible as this. The ingredients are not as easy to obtain and there will never be a finished product, but the effort needed is the same.”\n\nI followed his words, but didn't really understand. My breath was still ragged and my head hurt after thinking I was dying and then being told my father had fooled me so completely.\n\nHe turned towards me and put a hand on my shoulder. “You are old enough now to make your own choices for what you eat and how you live, and those choices do shape your life. If you are as determined to take care of yourself as you have been to take care of this candle, you will live a long and happy life.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: “Hey, kid. Don’t cry. You may be thousands of miles from your parents, but dragons ain’t so bad.”" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There he was- the boy of the family she had been watching. Ever since his birth, his parents never knew the dragon that stalked them. Peering into windows, stealing looks and smells. It went on for years, and years. Dragons were nearly timeless beasts; she hardly seemed to lose a day in the decade and some that she resided at Wilhelm castle.\n\nHe was an adult now, and ready to go on his own. He had the thoughts that he could leave to make himself another life, but the dragon knew the true story. After all, royalty liked to keep their blood pure... the boy would hardly get the life he wanted, instead he would be married to his first cousin. It had been decided not a year after he was born.\n\nNow of age, the boy hunted. He enjoyed it, and was unaware of his stalker as he foraged into the evenings many a time. One night he caught sound of a fight nearby, and dashed his way back home as the watcher confronted another with much more sinister intentions. He heard hisses and yelps and roars until he was back behind a thick door, and didn't hunt again for weeks after finding what could only be a dragon's scale on his window sill. When he regained himself, he brought darts of poison with tips intended to drill through scales, never to be used.\n\nThe first night without them, he locked on a favored deer, a plump doe. With focus averted, he hardly knew why the deer suddenly spooked until he was clutched in claws and hauled from the ground. His cries melted away from the castle and he grew tired as his strikes simply bounced off the black creature that sailed with him securely held.\n\nEither were wordless as the dragon landed. Exhausted from fighting, the boy slept. Maybe the dragon would kill him while he was asleep, and he wouldn't feel it. But morning came to a fire and a rabbit crudely skinned over it on roughly sharpened sticks. There on the other side was the dragon, watching him intently.\n\nHe didn't run, knowing better. The food was offered so tentatively ate while hardly taking his eyes off of it. Black as night, but piercing eyes. Some scales missing. Veins of gold on their surface.\n\nPeace broke with another maurader, much bigger than the black one. They hissed and bluffed until fighting; he stood shocked, backing away until he was against a tree. A visceral fight of teeth and blood and roars and claws as they thrashed and twisted; the black one locked onto the neck of the red one even as it was clawed harshly. It only let go when the invader whimpered in defeat, and smacked it harshly a few more times for good measure and chased it off.\n\nAs the black dragon returned, he could see more gold on it than before. It came close to him, and he realized he was crying, and pressed against the tree as a paw lifted near his face. He feared more, but found a warm and soft pad wipe his cheek instead, claws barely gracing his brow.\n\n\"Don't cry, kid. We are a long way from your parents now. Dragons aren't... well, not all dragons are so bad.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: In the future, when totalitarian governments are the norm, every newborn is injected with a syrum known to the people as FEAR. This syrum shuts down the \"fight\" part of your brain, leaving you only with \"flight.\" For one child, FEAR did not take affect..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "My parents were the first to notice something wasn't right with me. Stubbornness was still a trait among toddlers, even after the implementation of FEAR. But it went so much further with me. I wasn't just stubborn, there was outright defiance in my words. It scared them. Later, it also scared teachers and classmates. People would watch my every move, wary and untrusting.\n\nI'd never had a girlfriend. Everyone was too scared to have a normal conversation with me, but the girls especially found ways to be cruel without an outright confrontation. It was only the instinctual fight response that FEAR had repressed. The cold and calculating devastation of planned cruelty was not only possible, it was now a honed weapon in our society.\n\nI tried to fit in, tried desperately for years as soon as I was old enough to realize how different I was. But there was a reason the government used a drug like FEAR to repress the fight in people instead of more old-fashioned ways like conditioning or force. Instincts can't be fought. They come out at times, despite the most valiant efforts.\n\nDistrust led to suspicion, suspicion led to resentment, resentment led to hate. The cold shoulder in high school led to outright prejudice by the time I needed a job. Colleges and workplaces all required background checks, and everyone who ever knew me was more than happy to freely discuss my shortcomings. My temper. My bursts of anger.\n\nAnd that very treatment fueled my anger, honing it into something stronger, more lasting. By the time I was 25, still living in my childhood room and never having even kissed a girl, my entire core was made of a polished rage. I hated them all, the people who turned me into this monster. They didn't do it because they really hated me, but I was a reflection of everything they had lost with FEAR. I was a walking reminder of the repression in this world.\n\nFinally, after I went on what felt like my thousandth job interview, I snapped. I reached across the desk to the sniveling man giving me the interview and grabbed him by the collar.\n\n\"You are going to give me this job. I will work here and you will call me 'sir.' If you don't, I will hurt you. I will come back here every day and hurt you. I will follow you to your family's home. You will never be able to escape me.\" I watched his legs move and his arms push away. The instinct to run from me kicking in. But I held him tight. He almost choked himself with his own collar as I held it. But he relented. And just like that, I had a job.\n\nI walked out of the building with a new resolve to improve my life. I walked into the nearest bank, ready to open my first account since I'd soon have money to deposit. As I walked in, I recognized a few faces of people who knew me. I stepped into line and heard a flurry of whispers, concealed behind cupped hands. By the time I reached the counter, I was asked to leave.\n\nBut I finally knew my own power. I wouldn't leave. I just wanted a checking account, but before I knew it, fury overflowed in me again. I started to demand everything people like them had denied me, stolen from my life. They agreed, handing over cash and account slips showing bank transfers. Even if they closed the accounts once I left, I still felt vindicated in a small way.\n\nBut the bank employees had fought back in their own way. They called the Peace Enforcers while they filled my pockets with money. The Peace Enforcers were the children of Peace Enforcers, set aside a birth to take over the same job, so they were never given the FEAR injection everyone else received. But even though they still had the instinct to fight, it hadn't been honed in them as it had been in me. Generations of a complicit population left them confused and unsure how to even approach me. Now they were only trackers, chasing those who ran. They'd forgot how to fight.\n\nI left quite a mess that day at the bank. I often look back and think about how I could have done that better. Really, all of those deaths weren't necessary. I've improved since then.\n\nBut one thing hasn't changed. People used to think the government and their control of them with the FEAR injections were the worst they had to dread. Now I'm the terror they talk about in the quiet coffee shops. I'm the thing the government officials talk about behind closed doors. I live outside all of them. They have their FEAR, but I am FEAR.\n\nr/StaceyOutThere" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You know you have the ability to slow time, and have known all your life and thought it was one of a kind. One day while cheating on a test another person looks up faster than they should be able to" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I would have studied. I really would have, but I really just didn’t want to. I don’t normally use my ability for cheating. Don’t get me wrong, I do use it often. I just don’t use it to cheat on tests. I much prefer to keep my grades up in a fair way. It keeps me from feeling guilty about making better grades than other people.\n\nThe problem with this particular test is that I don’t really care much for history. I know the basics, but I’m terrible at remembering specific dates. Some people love the subject, and they can remember everything. I however can not.\n\nI’m confident enough in my ability to use it regularly in public places. I practice with it very often, so I’m really good at using and controlling it. I’ve even learned how to keep time stopped while I sleep. Needless to say, I have no concerns about getting caught cheating during this test.\n\nI stop time, and I pull my phone out of my bag to look up the answer to the first question. I easily find the answer and place my phone back in my bag. Then I allow time to resume as I mark the answer. I read the next question, and repeat the process. Everything is going smoothly. I even check a few of my classmates' papers to make sure I’m not going too quickly.\n\nAs I freeze time for one of the final questions, the new guy who is a few rows to my left starts looking around. He looks... annoyed when he realizes that no one else is moving.\n\nI freeze. It’s not exactly normal for someone to move while I have time frozen. I stare at him and glance around the room myself. No one else is moving. Everyone else is frozen. What the heck is happening?\n\nI blink, and ask quietly, “Are you… not frozen?” I only half expect an answer.\n\nHe looks as surprised as I do, and he whispers, “You’re not frozen?” with a look of absolute shock.\n\nWe stare at each other for what feels like forever. Neither of us know how to react to what is happening.\n\nFinally, he breaks our silence. “Are you… doing this?” He gestures around the room.\n\nAfter some more of my shock wears off, I remember how to speak. “Yea, since I was little. Preschool.”\n\n“Wow… I’ve never frozen time, but I’ve always been able to move while everything is frozen... since preschool.”\n\n“Do you think you might be able to freeze time then too?”\n\n\"Maybe.\"\n\nWe both just look at each other for some more time as we both come to terms with what this means. We both have the same ability. We both know each other’s secret.\n\n“What now?” He abruptly breaks the silence.\n\nI snap out of my thoughts and come back to reality. “Well, what’s your name?”\n\nHe smiles, “Drake, what’s yours?”\n\n“Emma.”\n\n“Well, Emma, would you like to get out of here for a little while, so we can get to know each other seeing as how we know each other’s secrets?”\n\n“I’d love to. I’ve been dying to talk to someone about this. I’ve figured out a few neat tricks, and I wanna learn more, but it’s kinda hard to do that when there’s nothing to teach you.”\n\n“Well, let’s go. Do you know a good place to hang out while time is frozen?”\n\nI hesitate, “Actually, how about we finish the school day, and then you can come over to my house. I have a nice little spot where I practice playing with time.”\n\n“Sounds good to me. Let’s finish this day.”\n\nWe smile at each other, and I continue freezing and unfreezing time for both of us." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You’ve been secretly creating your own language in your spare time, you’ve never shared it with anyone. Today while working behind the counter a client uses it for his order" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Adrian sat near the register, doodling on the edges of one of the store's weekly ads. A long line of symbols were there, and he took turns writing them over and over again.\n\nOriginally they had all been much more complex, but if he was ever going to write anything out by hand in his new language, he figured he should write them out a bunch to see how they looked when he got sloppy, and simplify them when he could to make the symbols more distinct, and faster to write.\n\nThe bell over the door jangled, as an absurd looking man walked in. He was wearing an outrageous neon yellow and purple jacket, and he looked like he had sunglass lenses surgically implanted into his eye sockets.\n\nHe locked eyes with Adrian, and then marched directly over. Adrian folded up his paper, and tossed it into the trash before someone else could see.\n\n\"Welcome to Audiotown, can I help you locate something?\" Adrian muttered off in his professional retail voice.\n\nThe man pulled out a card, looked at it, then said \"Vah nak nadallah kvie nadallah\" before looking up at Adrian.\n\nAdrian was stunned, and his eyes went wide. Those words were from the language he was working on. Loosely it meant \"The best cabbage is the cabbage\". He squinted at the strange man.\n\n\"I need your help\" he said, \"We have to go break into the White House, and we need to go NOW.\"\n\n\"What?\" Adrian asked in confusion. \"WHAT?!\" He asked in alarm. \"What what what?\" He asked in confusion again, but much more urgent confusion.\n\n\"Look man, I used your stupid Time Travel password alright. Nobody else yet knows your language, nobody else paid any attention to your rambling about Necromancers. In the future, you and me are buddies, and when we got time travel going you said if I needed help in the past I could say that and you'd help me out, no matter what.\" He said, his voice lowering, and taking on a dangerous edge.\n\n\"I need your help.\"\n\n\"Necromancers?\" Adrian mumbled in confusion. \"Why are you talking about cabbage?\"\n\nThe strange man looked at his card again. \"My bad. MAKdallah. Vah Nak MAKdallah kvie makdallah. Is that better?\"\n\nMakdallah did mean necromancer. And 'The Best Necromancer is the Necromancer' was an argument he had had ages ago with his older brother, who had argued the Druid in a game was better at being a necromancer, than the necromancer was. Since his brother died, nobody else should have known he had ever even said that. Much less in an invented language.\n\n\"How do I know you were really my friend? Maybe you kidnapped and tortured me in the future?\"\n\nThe man's head moved as if he was rolling his eyes, but it was hard to tell behind the implanted mirror shades. \"You told me to tell you if I had been untrustworthy I would been told the phrase was\" and he paused looking at the card again, \"Svra takala norvo tauro.\"\n\n\"A friend always tells the truth.\" Adrian replied.\n\n\"Which is bullshit, I know\" the strange man replied. \"You gave me a long lecture on it years ago about Yada Yada honesty and the nature of language and blah blah blah.\"\n\nAdrian blinked. That sounded about right to be honest.\n\n\"So... the whitehouse?\" Adrian asked.\n\n\"The whitehouse.\" Answered the strange man. \"Need to warn the president.\"\n\nThey left the store and got into Adrian's old '02 Focus. \"We haven't met yet, but I'm Sam. You usually call me Samothy, but I'd appreciate if you didn't.\" He said, as the car sputtered to a start, and they drove out of the parking lot.\n\nA few moments later, a much more haggard looking Adrian with three days of stubble popped into existence in the parking lot.\n\n\"Could have called Monica to cover your shift, but NOOOOOO, you had to just duck out and leave future-you to cover your own shift.\" He muttered as he walked into the now-empty store. \"Could have rented a car at the rental place in the same shopping center but noooo, returning the car at the airport and not having to worry about it would have been too easy. That's fine, I'll take a taxi back to pick up my car tonight.\"\n\nOlder Adrian groaned, as he began listing out all the inconviniences he would have to sort out.\n\nHe should come up with some rules for time travel. But first, he needed a new password." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: After retiring as a hitman, John Wick took ownership of a paintball course, only to have his clientele chiefly consist of other hitmen." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The first client to enter was a tall man dressed in a Gucci suit. He stepped over the threshold, took off his Ray-bans, and looked around. After quickly scanning the room, he walked quickly over to the counter, and, pausing only briefly to look up at the price board.\n\n\"Hello,\" the man said, tucking his sunglasses into his lapel pocket, \"I would like one adult ticket.\"\n\nJohn Wick looked up from the ledger he was writing in, and walked over to the register where the man was standing.\n\n\"Very good, and do you want to rent any equipment from us today?\"\n\n\"Yes, I suppose so\" said the man, \"You wouldn't happen to have two handguns, a rifle, and... yes, a couple of trip mines, would you? Maybe some grenades?\"\n\n\"Hmmmmm...\" said John, looking at the screen even though he had the full registry memorized. \"Yes, we do have a couple of pistols, and I can give you the rifle, but unfortunately I'm afraid we don't have any grenades or mines.\"\n\n\"Ah well,\" said the client, pulling on leather gloves much as a surgeon might, \"I suppose I can compensate.\"\n\nJust then three more people walked in, two of them very muscled, one a man and the other a woman, fanning out behind a very short man who immediately strode up to the register and impatiently stated \"I am going to need three tickets, adult, and two rifles with scopes as well as a paint knife and a handgun.\"\n\n\"Well, I'm sure we can accommodate those requests, however you could ask more nicely next time. That will be 100 dollars.\"\n\nThe short man replied \"I will talk how I please, however since you obviously do not know who I or my associates are, I will let it pass. Here,\" throwing down a single 100 dollar bill \"is your money. Goodbye.\"\n\nIt was a couple more minutes before the next clientele came in, a woman and a boy, though they were obviously not together. The woman wore a leather jacket and pants, and was carrying a helmet under one arm. The boy, however, was wearing a short sleeved shirt and short pants, and looked as though he might have just wandered over from the local school.\n\nThe woman was the first to walk over to the counter, while the boy sat on a bench and watched the other clientele carefully.\n\n\"Could I get a single adult ticket.\" she said, subtly turning her head almost imperceptibly and leaning forward ever so slightly to look at the computer screen. \"And an automatic rifle please.\"\n\nAfter she had paid and moved away, the boy moved quickly, lightly and silently over to the counter\n\n\"Hello, yes, ermm, could I get a ticket please, err, for a child\", he said in a quiet voice, \"and, uhh, if you ahh, have a hand gun, an automatic rifle, eeehhh, a knife, hmmm... and a scoped rifle, a second mask, and, ahh hmm. Yes, that, uhhh, that should be fine, thanks.\"\n\nJohn looked at the child and asked him \"Are you sure you don't want to wait until later, we have a group coming in later that will be more children if you would prefer to wait.\"\n\n\"No,\" said the child, slinging the automatic rifle over his back, and holding the mask, the knife, and the handgun in one hand, and the sniper rifle in the other \"I think I can handle myself.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: A brave knight hunts an infamous dragon, and local villagers spend days telling him not to pursue his quest, to no avail. Eventually, one villager gets fed up and says, \"Look us and the lizard have a good thing going here. Don't ruin it.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lancelot gripped the villager by the throat and dragged him close.\n\n\"You little piece of shit!\"\n\nLancelot's free hand went towards his waist to draw his sword, however when he heard the sudden gasp of the villagers he remembered where he was and quickly composed himself, pushing the villager away.\n\nThe villager stumbled backwards before hunching over coughing, despite this he still attempted to have a go at Lancelot.\n\n\"Cough..cough .. listen here ... cough ... don't .. cough go out to the forest ... cough you .... cough ... will ruin .. cough .. everything ...\"\n\nThe villager finally managed to get his breath back before approaching Lancelot\n\n\"I don't know if you are too dumb or just too stubborn, but we all have told you time and time again, leave the dragon alone! You killing the dragon will make things worse for all of us.\"\n\nLancelot had entered the village two days ago, since then he had repeatedly asked the villagers for information on the dragon; which mountain its on, how frequently does it attacks, how large it is, and so on. However, the villagers hadn't shared a shred of information and even tried to persuade him to leave. Now he even had dirty villagers verbally abusing him and calling him dumb directly to his face.\n\nThis was the last straw and finally Lancelot snapped!\n\n\"Look here, I am a knight of the realm! This dragon is in his Royal Majesty's territory, it poses a threat to the citizenry, to the harvest and to the livestock, It is my duty as a knight to remove this threat! You, all of you, have meddled repeatedly, I need clear answers now!\"\n\nLancelot yelled at the crowd as he drew his sword from its scabbard.\n\n\"Answer me now, or I will kill all of you for being thralls of the dragon!\"\n\nThe villagers all looked at each other, faces full of panic. They knew they were speaking above their station when they tried to stop Lancelot, but his interference could have destroyed everything, so they had to take the risk. Everyone focused on Hans, the only villager brave enough to directly confront Lancelot, they all looked at him as if saying 'You can speak for all of us'.\n\nHans saw the pleading eyes of his fellow villagers and decided to take the lead.\n\n\"Look.. the dragon is ..... the dragon is vegetarian!\"\n\nLancelot looked at Hans dumbfounded, unable to find any words to say. Seeing his predicament Hans continued.\n\n\"I know, its sounds crazy but it's true. We didn't notice it the first few times either but eventually, we realised it never targeted any of us or our livestock. It only ever attacked on harvest days, and only took away one or two wagons worth of produce. After that we were able to put 2 and 2 together.\"\n\n\"Not only that, it helps us with the sowing!\" a villager yelled out from the crowd.\n\n\"And it keeps those nasty wolves and bandits away!\" said another.\n\n\"And last time Gerny's youngest went missing, it was the dragon who brought him back!\" an elderly lady added.\n\n\"Exactly!\" yelled Hans, \"The dragon is the guardian of our village not our enemy. Basically we got a 'win-win' situation going on here. It can't grow crops by itself so we take care of that, and in return it keeps an eye on the village.\"\n\nLancelot was stunned from what he had just heard.\n\n'A vegetarian dragon, is that even possible? I've never heard of a vegetarian lion or a vegetarian tiger, so how is it possible for a dragon to be vegetarian?'\n\nLooking around at the villagers however, they didn't appear to be lying. At this point Lancelot put away his sword and sat down on the ground.\n\n\"Alright how about we start this story from the beginning?\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: life as seen from an old dog on his last day." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I wanted to go to sleep, that’s all I wanted. But James, my friend, kept wanting me to do things, and I love James, so I do them.\n\nWe went to the park. We have not been to the park as often as we used to. James has gotten big, and now he lives with a girl human, and so he does not have as much time with me as he used to. But that doesn’t make James a bad friend. James is just busy.\n\nToday, James has brought a frisbee. It has been a while since he has brought a disk that over the years he has taught me is called a frisbee, and this gets me excited. I remember all the cool games we used to play with the frisbee. Once, he threw it over a small pond, very high and soft, and I had to swim through the pond to get it. I just missed it, but he was proud anyways.\n\nI start barking at the frisbee. I want to see if I can still play. James looks at the frisbee, and throws it, very softly, and not too far. I retrieve it, of course. Who does he think I am? I bark at him again, and he throws it farther, but not too far still. I get it, of course. But when I ask him to throw it again, he just looks at me for a second, and shakes his head with a smile.\n\nThis is okay, because he buys an ice cream cone from a truck, and we sit on a bench together, like we used to many days ago. I’m bad at counting, so I don’t know how long it has been, but James was much smaller than he was before.\n\nThis is my favorite time. I sit on the bench, and lay my head in his lap, and he pats and rubs and scratches me, while eating his treat. Sometimes other people come over to pat and rub and scratch me too, but they have not for a long time. I guess I’m not as pretty as I used to be.\n\nWe sit there for a long time. Sometimes, James would read a book, or put these earplugs that make sound into his ears, but today he just sits with a half-smile, looking into the distance. This look has appeared more and more often these days, and for some reason I cannot figure, it worries me.\n\nEventually, when the sky dims a little, we get up, and James leads us back home. He feeds me, and we watch television with his girl human friend. I have always been jealous of her, because she gets more time with James than I do, but tonight she is kind to me, letting me sit across their laps. She rubs my belly and scratches me, and I lick her in appreciation. She laughs, and I forget I ever disliked her.\n\nIt is time to sleep soon, and I feel the tiredness return. The girl human leaves, giving James a hug. James leads me upstairs, to his old room, from when he was smaller. I can barely make it, I am so tired. We climb onto the bed, and he takes my face in his hands.\n\nJames takes a deep breath, and starts to speak. I have never truly understood the mysterious nuances of his human language, but I can pick some bits and pieces out, and the meaning too.\n\n“…very sick…tomorrow…goodbye…so sorry…doctor…only way…l-love you…”\n\nAnd now he has the smile on his face again, the one I have seen less and less, the wide, complete smile of his smaller days, and I lick his face. He laughs, and laughs, until I realize they are sobs as well.\n\nHe holds me close, his arms wrapped tightly around me just like when he was a little boy, like he would never let go. I realize this is the moment I have been waiting for. I am finally right where I need to be. I close my eyes, shove my head into the warmth of his chest, and slowly fade away. The last thought I have is that I can’t wait for a new day so we can have fun together again." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: A young witch decides to take in an abandoned human child. Just one issue: the child is unaware that her caretaker is a witch, and the witch has no idea how to tell her." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Mom, do you remember when you used to work the night shift?\n\nYes. Deer. That was when I worked at the candy factory.  We had to make the candy at night so that it could be delivered early in the morning. \n\nMom, why didn't I get any candy from your store. You always brought me Snickers or Hershey's Kisses from the grocery.\n\nOh Deer. We made adult candies, they were not for children.\n\nBut Mom, you were gone all night, and I never had a baby sitter. You just told Smiles the Cat to keep and eye on me. \n\nAnd did he?\n\nYes, he sat on my lap or curled around my neck and followed me absolutely everywhere around the house.  And he would nip me whenever I opened the outside door. He wouldn't stop until I came back inside. How old is that cat anyhow?\n\nHe is not 'That Cat!' He is Mr. Smiles and he deserves your respect. He has always looked out for you. You have no idea how well he has protected you. And Yes, he's an old cat.\n\nMom, I'm almost 18, and you said that you and he became friends when you were 18. Didn't you tell me he was as old as you when you met him?\n\nIn cat years, Deer, they are very different from human years. Some common house cats live well into their 20s. \n\nAnd here's another thing I noticed Mom. You don't have a very good landing. The broom shakes because you shake. What I want to know why you hid it from me?! You practice witchcraft. That's against the law, Mom.\n\nOh Deer, oh when did you figure it out. I guess it doesn't matter, but I do not practice. No one practices, it's what you are, who you are and how you live. I am sorry I never told you. I don't know what to say other than I really didn't know how to tell you. Mr Smiles said to just blurt it out one day, but I thought it would ruin us. Not just me and Mr Smiles but you as well. They would try you for witchcraft too.\n\nMom. Why do you have me? You said I was two and abandoned. Is that even true?\n\nDeer, it's the truth, but you were 4. Your mother came to me with you. She said she could no longer take care of you and since I had a job at the candy factory I could raise you better.\n\nMom, there is no candy factory! It's your coven and I know what you do. You boil bone and sulfur into a stew. You add in fillet of rat snake, frogs legs and squirrel brains. And then you each drink it. Every night! I see what happens under the harvest moon. Sacrificing a goat in a pentagram while one of you stand bleeding over it. Then after you decapitate the goat, from it's head bursts a baby witch.  That's what I am, a witch! Your baby! And you lied about it.\n\nOk. I lied. And I'll have to know later how you found the coven. But you are not a witch. The earth did not bless you and so you are human. You are not of Lilith, Mother of witches, but a human child of Sarah, Wife of Abraham, and still you are blessed." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: American Astronauts finally land on Mars, only to encounter a fully self-sustaining Soviet colony." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Commander Thompson sighed as she put down her binoculars. Flight engineer Wei Ping took them from her and carefully sat down on the martian soil, his helmet light illuminating the surrounding area where she crouched.\n\n\"Houston, Jane here, we have a protocol 7 event I think,\" she said into her mic. Wei began videotaping.\n\n\"Houston here, whatcha got,\" a man asked as the comm lights on their suits went red.\n\n\"We've got a person here. Vintage spacesuit. Definitely Russian. He... no.. she is coming towards us. I can't make out a face.\" Jane looked at the woman again. Her spacesuit was a mesh of dozens of emergency patches and the once vibrant red plastic was faded to a pale pink. She walked with a limp and slowly. Her hand kept wiping dust away from her visor, the automated dust wiper long broken.\n\n\"Holy shit,\" said Wei. \"That's a cosmonaut!\"\n\nJane spoke to Earth as Wei watched her lips move. \"Guess my pay grade is too low for this conversation,\" he said to himself. He sat back into the buggy and watched the cosmonaut walk towards them from a mile out.\n\nJane walked over to the buggy and pulled something out of a sealed compartment.\n\n\"What is that,\" Wei said, shocked. \"Is that a... gyrojet pistol? Commander, with all due respect, that's a weapon. We're not allowed to have those.\"\n\nJane shrugged, \"Command wants me armed. Trust me, I don't want to use this. Can you get her on the radio?\"\n\n\"Think so. Just don't point that thing anywhere near me,\" he said with a smile.\n\nThe radio crackled, \"Hello, American ship. I am Valentina Merokosha. I am cosmonaut. Supplies are very low. Please follow to base.\"\n\n\"Wait, when did you land? What supplies,\" asked Jane.\n\nThe radio only gave static as they watched her turn around and walk away. A moment later she turned in front of a boulder and disappeared.\n\nWei shrugged. \"Okay, so we follow?\" He watched Jane argue with NASA for several minutes. He saw her hit a button on her chest and his radio came alive, \"Sorry NASA, you're breaking up. We'll try again in a few.\"\n\n\"Fuck it, lets go,\" she said as she joined him in the buggy. \"We'll patrol the area for a bit. I don't see her anymore.\"\n\n\"Err, is that what they told us to do,\" asked Wei as he put the buggy in gear and drove.\n\n\"Not really,\" smiled Jane. \"They also didn't tell me to do this,\" she said as she put the pistol back into its compartment.\n\nWei laughed, \"I just remembered my training on this buggy. That compartment was for spare transmission fluid. Did they really expect us to change tranny fluid on Mars? Like we're some interstellar Jiffy Lube? I should have guessed.\"\n\nJane chuckled. \"Wait, see that,\" she asked.\n\n\"Yeah, I'll pull close to it.\"\n\nThey stepped out of the buggy and stared at the piles of wreckage at their feet.\n\n\"I think we just discovered the lost cosmonauts of legend. Guess it was a failed Mars mission,\" she said.\n\n\"I don't see how anyone could have survived this,\" said Wei.\n\nWei kicked at the metal debris. He bent over and revealed parts of a human skeleton in a spacesuit. He pulled at the spacesuit. He illuminated its face with his headlamp. A skull with long black hair looked back at him. He illuminated its chest and read the nameplate outloud, \"V. Merokosha.\" He shuddered.\n\n\"A one woman mission to Mars. How... lonely,\" Jane said looking away. \"I guess she wanted someone to find her.\"\n\nWei shut off his headlamp and looked at Jane, \"Someone finally did.\" They sat silently in the buggy for a short while. Jane's tears fogged up her helmet. \"So lonely, so lonely,\" she said breaking the silence. Wei took her hand and smiled at her. \"Its okay, we found her. We'll tell people about her and she'll find peace.\" He then closed his eyes and began quietly chanting a Buddhist prayer.\n\n\"Yes... yes, we will,\" she said and began to radio Valentina's story back to Earth." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 700-800 words. Prompt: a story about a man taking his dog for a walk, the narrator keeps changing his mind on what genre the story is while the main character is dead set on it being a romantic comedy." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Upon the tolling of that lofty cathedral's bell Sir Loftus Rochbert Von Fritzertrap fixed the leather thong to his beloved Breecher's harness. That crafty shorthaired pointer pulled with the utmost gumption towards the door, enticing Sir Loftus forthwith to the arena of his courtyard.\n\n\"Adieu,\" Sir Loftus shouted across the quad to the comely debutante Maxine Adriana Marvelous, a recent occupant of the long vacant Davenshire estate just over his own easterly wall.\n\nMaxine waved, her frilled cuff aflutter, and hollered in the most unbecoming albeit dainty fashion. \"Yo, Rocky!\"\n\nBreecher, having the percocious mind of a three-year-old old Spanish bird dog, throttled Sir Loftus ahead to the ~~tended lawn~~ newly installed astroturf. As Breecher had second thoughts about watering plastic grass, Lefty smiled to Maxine, raised his leash-wrapped fist in a punching motion, and called back, \"Yo, Adrian!\"\n\nMaxine opened the gate leading to Lefty's yard, letting herself in, and gingerly walked across the newly crafted lawn. \"I like your new grass.\"\n\n\"Can't say the same about ol' Breecher here,\" Lefty said. He encouraged his pooch, \"Come on boy, go potty. Can't burn this, now, can you.\"\n\n\"Say, Fritzy-pooks,\" Maxi began. \"Could I ask a teensy-tinsy favor?\" She gestured back to the meandering drive leading to her estate on which her carriage appeared raised as a laborer affixed a new front conveyer. \"I had been planning on a trip to the moon this afternoon, but my Found-on-road-dead is, well, dead. Would you mind -\"\n\nFritz half bowed, and then quickly scooted his foot away from Breecher's compromising position. \"Why, Miss Marvelous,\" he feigned in haphazard cockney some degrees improved of Dick Van Dyke, \"I would be delighted.\"\n\nHe ruffled Breecher's neck, pulled up the access flap, and said, \"Hey boy, can you go bring the Tesla over this way? Don't forget to bring your helmet.\" Then, he enabled the homing option to send his dog on it's way back to the house and closed the flap.\n\n\"Ooh,\" Maxi M. cooed. \"You have a Tesla? One of those new Model Rs?\"\n\nFritz nodded and tried to hide his grin. \"An R-380, full electric rocket with twin zone booster so we can skip the super charge lines at Tera and Luna Stations.\"\n\nMaxi reached out to touch Fritz's shoulder, offering him a warm smile. Although gentle, he could nonetheless feel the steely points of her robotic hand through her stylish leather glove. \"Thanks, Fritz.\" Then, she raised her hand to her mouth. \"Oh, but what about Breecher?\"\n\nThe Tesla hovered across the astroturf, Breecher hanging his head out the open pilot window, space-helmet dangling from his mouth. \"Now, don't drop that,\" Fritz called, \"Or no walk on the moon.\" He winced as, expectedly, Breecher dropped the helmet in excitement, and then clammered out of the pilot window and jumped some thirteen feet to the ground.\n\n\"Ouch,\" Maxi said.\n\n\"That'll leave a dent in the grass,\" Fritz agreed.\n\nThe Tesla pulled up to the two, while Breecher fetched up his doggy helmet. Fritz led Max aboard, careful to keep Breecher from knocking her down as he scampered up ahead of them.\n\n\"Now, go ahead and sit right here,\" he invited her. \"I just need to check the time circuits. You want moon with atmosphere -\"\n\n\"Correct,\" M. tuted. She perused through the electro-diorama embedded in her eye. \"Twenty three nineteen, May third, say, noon? We can grab lunch, and there's a little sale at Louis Vuitton.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" F. said, and extended his psychic directive to instruct the chronoblender with the desired vector. \"Do you need a coupon?\"\n\nShe raised her hand, whereby the fingers folded back to reveal a miniaturized printing press of sorts. A whir eminated and out popped the oddest of tickets. \"Already got one.\"\n\n\"Fantastic,\" F. said. He hopped down in the pilot's seat, helped Breecher with his helmet, opened up the lateral space port, activated the shield, and waited for his pup to stick his head out of the spaceship.\n\n\"Oh, and F.?\" M. articulated in a perniciously coy display. She touched an oblong amulet of silver encrusted with extraordinarily rare gems, lending the most striking countenance. \"And, if you don't mind afterwards, could you help me recharge my amulet?\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: You rush into a church to stop the love of your life from marrying the wrong person. Not paying attention, you barge in yelling “I OBJECT” only to realize it’s a funeral. The deceased immediately rises in perfect health, and all eyes turn to you" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“I OBJECT!”\n\nTwo words were all that it took to change the course of someone’s entire life.\n\nDennis had known he would likely live down his life as the biggest fool among everyone that knew him. They thought he had gotten over the love of his life. They simply didn’t know how much he cared for her. He had done so much for Sarah, blind to his obsession of someone that even he knew he should have moved on from.\n\nEspecially after he found her in bed with another.\n\nWith the man she would be wed with soon.\n\nIt had taken close to a full year for him to recover from everything. Everyone that knew helped as they could. And then, life moved on. Yet Dennis was left wondering what he had done wrong. Could he have prevented things if he was a better person? Was it money? His beliefs?\n\nIt started with a few social gatherings, him sharing his thoughts to others in private, others leaving thoughts and prayers. Then the strange suggestions came in. Some said to practice a health fitness program a man in India came up with from the light of a demigod. Another having him draw sutras and intake odd drinks from a program made up in South Korea, to strengthen one’s spirit and body.\n\nDennis was desperate, and he tried them all, anything to get her out of his mind. And for a time, it worked. He was swamped with so much to do he couldn’t find the time to even think of her. Yet, a mistake had happened. A letter from one of her friends had mistakenly gotten to him, announcing the marriage. It was to be had in only a months time.\n\nSomething shattered in him, wanting out. Dennis pushed back, going deeper into his meditations and workouts. That day, he had put on his robe of forgotten woes, to help absorb his bad memories it claimed. It was the day of the wedding, an old church on the edge of town.\n\n‘Would only take ten minutes to get there really. Surely if I got there, Sarah would see me and would understand her mistake of leaving me for the man--’\n\n“Shut up!” He slapped his head, papers stacked around the ground flying away. “Just shut up for one god awful second, please! Why can’t I… why can’t I just get over…”\n\nLooking around the room, he examined the odd trinkets and purchases he had made in secret from the world. Papers he had written down on some supposed dead language to empower him and his mind. Books and pamphlets on things that could improve his life. Even the ornamented white robe he was wearing, a high dollar purchase made in the spur of the moment.\n\nHe laughed, “I’m never gonna be rid of her am I?”\n\nTen minutes. Ten minutes and he’d be there. He knew what he wanted to do. To claim out to the very heavens his love of her. Just one more chance to try things out. She could afford to hear him out, right? And if she said no… then surely, SURELY then he could finally move on.\n\nThe event was already underway, so would he make it in time to stop the motions? Dennis jumped up, throwing more books and papers around as he grabbed for his car keys. Energy built up inside him, an eagerness that he hadn’t felt in a long time. The potential of being with her, even remote, was intoxicating.\n\nHe had blown past street lights and every single stop sign in his way. Fate seemed to be on his side, no traffic being on the streets. Eerily quiet he’d notice if he took the time to look around. The car screeched to a halt just outside the doors of the church. Cars were lined all around the block, surprising Dennis just how many had turned out. Apprehension settled in, knowing he’d be opening up to what looked like the whole town. One of his spiritual mantras spoke out in his head, urging him forward to do what he wanted and how he wanted it. It was his right to at least demand an audience, and one was presented to him no?\n\nShaking his head, he got out of the car. Dennis pushed out his chest, looking like he was in charge, a book study noting to look confident would help make him more appealing. He made sure his muscles were evenly prepped up, to allow him full body motion to help communicate with it and ensure people believed in his actions along with his words. At least according to a best selling book in Norway had written.\n\nTwo large men stood at the doors as if guarding it from something. Dennis kept his face calm and serene, standing in front of the two, as if demanding they tell him to turn away. He used his spiritual prowess, according to the VHS tapes he had purchased from Ireland, using it to tell the guards he was not to be trifled with. They merely gave one another a shared look of confusion, staring at the garish looking white-robed man with strange tribal workings enscribed on them.\n\nAll in all, he looked harmless to them.\n\nThey stepped aside, opening the door for him to enter. Dennis knew he had only a few moments before someone recognized him to stop him. He power-walked straight past the receptionist, the poor lady trying to say something to him, unheard. Down a long hallway, right up to the large doors that held his lovely Sarah.\n\nDennis pumped himself up. He recalled everything he had learned, wanting to now use it for this one purpose, to try and get her, just one more chance. He’d certainly win her back. Dennis activated his third eye, called upon his inner chakra, invigorated his spiritual batteries, and with a mighty push, slammed the doors open.\n\nHe kept calm, standing upright and strong. With a gust of air sucked in, Dennis threw an open hand into the air, belting out the loudest sounding words he could, overtaking anything that was occurring in the room.\n\n“I OBJECT!”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You and your wife are older. She has dementia and so you always hear the same stories. You listen because she's always so joyful to tell you. But this time, you hear a story, a new one too..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When you're old, you tend to settle into a routine. A holding pattern, of sorts. Supposedly, \"routine\" drives the day, and it keeps you sane. But not me. I never did like routine. Throughout my life, I've always enjoyed creating things and being quirky. I like mixing things up. And to be honest, so did my wife. We've always enjoyed these bursts of creative energy, these moments of fun and laughter. Imagine my sadness when she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's, bless her.\n\nAnd now, we have a routine.\n\nIt's seven in the evening, and we've just eaten our dinner. We sit at the dining table, and we start our evening routine: Storytime. \"How was your day, dear?\" she asks, the same question, everyday. And I give the same reply. \"Oh, the usual at work. The office stuff, you know.\"\n\n\"Well, I had an amazing day today!\" she responds, \"I was reading a book, and it reminds me of how we were before...\"\n\nShe talks about how we met, and how we got closer to each other. How we both started dating. How we tried to avoid scrutiny from the rest of the world as we did. Her face lights up as she does, and I remember how animated she was, telling her stories and sharing her interests when we first started seeing each other. I smile along, as I've always done.\n\nShe talks about how we were, after we got married. The difficulties we overcame, the usual cynicism and the skepticism from friends and family. How we supported each other through the uncertainty. How we progressed together, in our respective careers. She mentions our first apartment together, getting used to living with each other. About how I snore, and the various odd mannerisms I have. \"No, I don't snore,\" I respond, somewhat on cue, smiling as I deny the fact, and she chuckles and tsks at me.\n\nShe talks about how the various things we've done together in our marriage, the vacations, our hobbies, the stuff we've built and created together as a couple. Our shared interests, our various scattered projects, our snippets of writing and art. And perhaps, this is when I start wondering if things were truly as rosy as it all seems.\n\nAnd finally, she circles back to present day. Talking about how we've cared for each other as we grew older, about how we've overcame illness and frailty together. About how we've always found a way to be close to each other, despite poorer health. My mind is in a bit of a daze. She leaves out the Alzheimer's diagnosis, of course, but apart from that, the rest of the story didn't seem quite the same as before. Nevertheless, I smile and nod, as per the routine. \"That's great to hear, darling, I'm glad you had a good day.\" But I still can't shake the nagging feeling that something is not right.\n\nPerhaps there are inaccuracies. Definitely. I'm pretty sure there were rough patches. But they've all been removed from her version in what's left of her memory. Come to think of it, some parts of the story... seem rather new, compared to what I've remembered. I pause for a while to check my phone, where an important note is pinned:\n\nYour name is Ed.\n\nYour wife has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's and has dementia.\n\nYou were diagnosed with the same, a year later.\n\nYou need to keep letting her tell her story.\n\nYou need to keep listening to her.\n\nLooking up from my phone, I stared at my wife. When and where did we meet? What did we do together? Didn't she just say all that? And as I think about it, she's been telling the same story, holding on to it, to remind herself.\n\nAnd today, I need it to remind myself.\n\n\"Dear,\" I say, tears welling in my eyes, \"would you mind telling me the story again? I might have missed something you said...\" She smiles at me, tears welling in her eyes too, holding my hand. \"Sure, why not?\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: \"The worst part about time travel? No, it's not the appalling dental care, or using the correct dialect, or even preventing fashion paradoxes. The worst part of time travel is missing the music.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "We knew going in that time travel was inherently dangerous to the human psyche. Never mind the time stream - god save you if you witnessed it. It wasn't about dental care, dialects, or fashion paradoxes.\n\nWe thought the worst part would be people. Just imagine if you went to the past, stepped on a butterfly, then came back to the present only to find your family gone. Never having existed in the first place. If the paradox didn't get you, insanity surely would. Maybe you could handle it once - maybe. But a dozen times? The relationships you formed plucked from reality. A hundred lives gone. Whatever place you called home changed by the winds of time.\n\nStill we could prepare people. Choose those with an aptitude for being lonely without showing symptoms of loneliness. Those unfortunate few who saw themselves as masters of their destiny. And psych evaluations, of course. So many evaluations you could hardly stomach it. I remember one of them asking me if we were time travelers or patients in a ward. Sometimes all you can do is smile.\n\nBut people were not people when they came back to us. Men and women who by any measure ought to be able to handle the stress. Not a dozen times - not a hundred times - but just twice or thrice. Then they came back broken.\n\n'Where is the music', they would ask. 'What is this silence?' They would cry and rage, then appear almost catatonic and refuse to explain. Then, suddenly euphoric, they told us such a magnificent tale we could hardly believe it.\n\nThey told us how all of time and space was covered in the most wonderful series of vibrations. Everywhere they went it was beautiful. To call it music would be like comparing the sun to a flashlight. And the further back they went, the greater in immensity it was to experience.\n\nExcept here. Except in the present. Here there was nothing. Oh, they cried and begged to be returned. The toughest minds you could imagine could not sit through even an introductory psych evaluation. They were literally clawing at the walls before it was over. But how could we let them? It would be like giving a suicidal person a gun - we'd never see them again.\n\nWe were scientists, you understand. What is science if not the ambition to better understand the reality around us? This was merely a setback, a challenge to overcome. So we sent more, more first timers. Better prepared, better equipped. And they returned confused. Only the vaguest music could be heard. The more we sent, the less they experienced.\n\nOnly too late did we realize the error of our ways. It was not the rest of reality that was strange, it was us. Whatever we did, whatever was wrong. Our way of time travel, or perhaps just being there. Everywhere we went, like counter-acting ripples in the timespace continuum, the music disappeared. Like a quantum state collapsing once observed, this music vanished once experienced by us.\n\nIt is a strange realization to have, that you have altered the fundamental nature of reality through your ignorance. We harbored no malevolent intent - we only wished to learn. But regardless of the inherent good in our action, the consequences had altered the universe. We had taken something from it that never would exist again.\n\nWe did our best to understand it, while there was any left. But it could not be recorded, only experienced. We asked our travelers to tell us what it sounded like. They did their best. Which is to say that some merely mimed haphazardly while others danced and mumbled. It was beyond human capability. It didn't matter if we sent the most brilliant musicians or the musically illiterate people.\n\nOne by one they understood, those who returned. Some more bluntly than others, some more catastrophically than others. 'Why bother asking about the music?' they wondered. 'Why don't you go and experience it for yourself?' Our refusal to answer was all the answer they needed. It existed now only in their memories.\n\nWhat do you do with a thousand people that have stared into eternity, perhaps even the face of god? Could you tell them the truth, even if they already knew? 'This thing that now defines you, we have destroyed. Because we were clumsy.' We made them comfortable and gave them room. None of them ever spoke to us again.\n\nAs for the rest of reality - outside our little institute of time travelling. Once they were one way, then after we passed through they were another - and they don't even remember it. We could not play that music for them. But we could tell them a story. Wherever they were, whatever century or continent.\n\nWe could tell you this story.\n\nIf life seems gray, without meaning, more trouble than good. For what it's worth - we're sorry for what we took." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: The IP address 666.666.666.666 always leads to the website \"hell\" -a place where mortals can make pacts with demons." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A TV droned on in the living room of my small apartment. My friend and I sat in front of a small computer screen. I was showing my friend Kyle a website I’d just learned about.\n\n“But dude, that doesn’t make any sense - IP addresses are based on a 32-bit system. The maximum value of each octet is 255, which is the numerical equivalent of 11111111. In binary, each single bit represents 2 possible values - a “1” or a “0”. The value 00000001 equals “1”. Each bit place, from right to left, represents a multiplier of 2, so the maximum value per 8-bits is 2^8. 8 bits per octet, 4 octets. 32-bits. If all 32 bits are flipped, the maximum IP address is 255.255.255.255. Why not 256, you ask? Because the count starts at 0. How the hell did you get to that website?”\n\nI sighed. “Yeah, I know man. Remember, I’m the underpaid network engineer. Just go with it, man. Check this out.” I scrolled through the list.\n\nThe page was set up like Amazon. Thousands of products were available. From dildos to cellphones, you could have it all. Only one detail was different - the cost. Where a typical dollar price tag was expected, instead there was a duration indicated. Some items touted “Only 10 days!” Or “Was 30 days - now only 20!”\n\nUnlike Amazon, there were also services offered. Offers such as “Make your boss sick for a week!” Seemed to be a popular product. “Teach your ex a lesson”, while vague, seemed to be the second most popular product among the services.\n\nI clicked on the “Services - NSFW” Section and my friend’s eyes grew big. “Make me rich” and “save my family member/friend (you choose!)” were on the top of the list, followed closely by “make her/him suffer” and “never be rejected again!”.\n\nThe prices in this section got a bit ridiculous. We scrolled through - 10 years, 25 years, 30 years. I decided to sort by price “high to low”.\n\n“Kill any target or group + any other two services of equal or lesser value.” Instead of a number, a small infinity symbol indicated the price. We clicked in to the product. In the description it indicated that “purchase includes a Prime membership, granting significant discounts on other services and products. Collection of payment to occur upon death (no matter the circumstances). No refunds available for this product.”\n\n“Man, that’s some weird stuff,” my friend said. “No way it’s legit, right? Just some weird crap some guy with too much time on his hands built?”\n\n“Well, we’ll find out soon enough. My co-worker John showed me this site yesterday. Said he’d already made a purchase, and was deciding what else he was going to do with it.”\n\nThe TV that was going in the background suddenly broke to an emergency bulletin. Multiple deaths, a run on the bank, and an unexplained disappearance of half the women in the city were the headlines.\n\nWe slowly turned our heads back to the screen. The screen had refreshed, and a new review of the product we were last looking at had been posted.\n\n“5 stars! Loving this. Finally, I can retire happy. No more network troubles for me!” A ‘Confirmed Purchase’ tag was next to the username: john1corr.\n\n“Dude, that’s him.” The hairs on my arm stood. I spun back to the TV.\n\nA “This Just In!!” Flashed across the screen, and the camera shot switched from a reporter to a view from a helicopter. Thousands of women surrounded a home. It looked like the door had already been broken in, and women were flooding inside. A man was standing on the roof naked, with a pillow over his groin. The women were clawing through the 2nd story window. When the second woman climbed out on the roof to corner the man, he slipped and fell into the swarm of women below.\n\nSuddenly the swarm of women stopped moving. It seemed like they all started shaking their heads, and wandering away from the now destroyed home.\n\nI realized that I had walked closer to the TV during the last minute. When I turned around, Kyle had just completed his purchase.\n\n“Dude, what the hell?!” I shouted. He turned to me with a grin. “This going to be great, man. Just you wait.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: The Velvet Emporium, worlds largest supplier of magical marital aids, has been illegally washing the residue from its potion vats for years and contaminated the local aquifer. A nearby town is starting to feel the effects..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Velvet Emporium, you'd think a place dedicated to sale of chemical and magic aids would be a little more cautious. Sadly you'd be wrong, This is the story of Robert. Victim number one.\n\n2076. Florida. 9:00 Pm\n\nRobert Wright loved to fish and found that the little lake just south of the Velvet Emporium. The water might have been a little strange at times but some of the largest fish he ever caught came from that very lake.\n\n\"This is the life.\" Robert chuckled and sipped on his beer. It tasted warm and nasty but he couldn't be bother to get to the cooler.\n\nSomething bubbled beneath the water, it wasn't the first time little pockets of air got distrubed by the occasional small gator or turtle. Robert kept his eye on the spot between casts of his line. The night wore and robert found himself cursing at the amount of mosquitos nibbling at his arms. Robert stood up and turned to get his cooler.\n\nThe cooler was currently being held by a large figure, the figure was crouched and facing his direction.\n\n\"Ay! Ay! Get away from my fish and my beer, Asshole!\" Robert growled and picked up his folding chair.\n\n\"A...Asshole?\" The person whispered in a voice that sounded like a chain smoker gargling gravel. The person turn to Robert and stood up, Robert noticed the swaying of breast in the darkness. It has to be one of the hookers that walked to the truck stops across the lake.\n\n\"Yes.\" Robert sighed and reach for his key. This little LED flash light would at least put a face to his potential robber.\n\nHe clicked on the light and moved it to the center mass of the woman. Golden eyes stared back with curious intelligence, a face that would be almost a goddess except for the sharp teeth and large tongue assessed him. Thick human arms and legs ended in gator claws, while a long muscular tail swiped the mud.\n\n\"What the fuck are you?\" Robert had seen monsters before but this was in a different class from the goblins and chimera from the pet stores.\n\n\"What fuck you?\" The creature rumbled back at him and tossed the cooler at him. The cooler smack him with enough force to drop him into the mud, cheap plastic scattered around him as the gator thing climbed over him.\n\n\"Scary, Ahh, No Kill.\" The creature repeated while dragging robert away in it's iron grip. He kicked her in the back and she didn't even notice the blow while collecting his cooler.\n\nThe creature dragged robert to an abandoned trailer. She pulled him inside and shut the door, her gaze was on him like a curious cat watching a mouse.\n\n\"Is this the part where you eat me?\" Robert said sourly as he took in his surroundings, a jar filled with lightening bugs kept the room just bright enough to see everything in a dull yellow glow. The smell of candy sweet drinks filled the room, the source was the dozens of buckets of water which glowed softly. The smell was just like the Velvet refinery.\n\n\"You are hopped up on sex potions arent you.\" Robert wanted to laugh as much as cry.\n\n\"Hopped?\" The reptile woman repeated and hissed impatiently before pushing Robert down on a dirty mattress. She lazily used her claws to rip off his clothing, She wouldn't let this one get away.\n\nRobert barely has time to protest as the gator woman mounted him. The moment his half hard cock touched her she shrieked and hissed to herself. She held pressed her hand to the walls of the trailer on both side of his head, the metal squealed against her claws. Robert touched her nipple with his hand, she hissed again in reptilian bliss. She was on so many sensitivity potions that anything seem to set her off.\n\n\"Pop, Joy. Beer\" She said not understanding the words she was saying but if it got the male to play with her more she would make noise.\n\nRobert was fully excited both by how easy this monster was to please and how he might find his way out of this. Robert slammed his dick into the monster and she quivered in response. Robert felt like a sex god as he fucked the squealing monster into a gibbering wreck, just a few moment of thrusting had the beast clutching him tightly so he couldn't tease her breast.\n\nRobert leaned in and licked at her neck.\n\n\"Start. Stop! Fish Gallon!\" She said with a hiss of pleasure.\n\nThen the door to the trailer exploded out with shrapnel bouncing harmlessly off of her back. A man in a black uniform moved behind and placed a device to her neck. She passed out on the spot, her heavy bulk flopped to floor as Robert came over her belly and chest.\n\n\"Good thing we got here in time.\" The man put a blanket over Robert and lead him out.\n\n\"What was she?\" Robert said weakly, he was spent. Another man approached him in a lab coat, the man held out a clipboard and pen.\n\n\"An alligator that is under class 4 mutagentic potions. We need your permission to keep her alive, as you see she isn't a threat but that gentlemen in black is obligated to shoot her in the head if you don't sign. She is either a dangerous animal or a disobedient pet.\" The man in the lab coat spoke quietly. \"We can modify her size and strength later. It's just more paperwork to kill an endangered species and explain it away.\"\n\n\"Do I have to keep her?\" Robert asked as she was dragged away. He signed anyway.\n\n\"Yes. She is considered a mutant now, can't let her roam. If it wasn't for the fact she has eaten a few cellphone then you might have ended up her pet.\" The man chuckled, \"We will call you when she is ready for pick up. Thank you from the Velvet Emporium.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: Pokémon are no longer the fun and loving creatures you \"train\" with. They are now hunting humans and eating them alive. Tell us the stories of your great survival or the story of your untimely death." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A sudden burst of wind energized the once dying camp fire sending a chill down my spine. It had been several days since the settlement of Pallet Town was over run by the monstrosities that were once comrades. I was the only one to escape. At least I think so. \"Hopefully someone else made it\", I whispered to myself in a futile attempt to combat the loneliness.\n\nThis affliction was thought to have been caused by a revived fossil brought to Cinnabar Island by another Pokemon Trainer from Pallet Town. He had a very odd name but who am I to judge. When the Old Amber sample was brought to that strange facility; it was brought back from the dead. A miracle...\n\nThe creature brought forth was referred to as Aerodactyl, from old texts. A very aggressive species. He promptly bit one of the scientists which wouldn't have warranted much cause for concern, however the scientist immediately started convulsing and was rushed off. He was patient zero.\n\nThe virus rapidly mutated. Within days it moved onto Pokemon although it affected them exceedingly differently. They didn't convulse nor die. They just seemed to turn on their trainers. Even the best trainers were powerless against the virus. Poke balls couldn't contain the rage that each Pokemon had consuming them.\n\nAll the gym leaders were killed rapidly due to continuous proximity to contaminated Pokemon and the strength of their own. Many other trainers just let their Pokemon dispatch them due to their devotional love of their \"friends\". They weren't friends anymore. Just possessed husks of former allies. Some tried to run and hide in the mountains or in the country side since the Pokemon started living in the previously populated cities due to the sturdier structures and numerous canned goods that could be hoarded when food became scarce.\n\nI used to be a good trainer. My Grandfather Professor Oak allowed me to pick my first Pokemon after that other adventurer. I regret my decision to pick the perfect opposing Pokemon to my rival. The Pokemon was a Squirtle. I should have picked one that I truly loved not one just to win. I regret that decision everyday...\n\nI am still alive because I could give up all that I've ever loved. I feel ashamed to have treated everyone so horribly especially My Grandfather and even my rival. \"I hope that they made it out\", I uttered with a bit of anguish. I knew that there was no way that they could be alive.\n\nIt was starting to brighten outside and I had realized that I had been staring into the flames all night. As I rose to my feet, I heard a stick break behind me. Grabbing my makeshift spear clumsily and got into a defensive position. I heard a groaning almost tortured \"Squir...\" sound.\n\nThe small figure that was covered in coagulated blood moved clumsily. Stared at me with a very blank expression, almost hauntingly. I heard several creatures behind this distorted image of my first Pokemon. The second came into view and it appeared to be a Charmander but this Pokemon was clean and seemed very focused on me, not sharing the dull expression of Squirtle. The last figure came into view and I couldn't utter anything but one word...\n\n\"Red?\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: You're a recruitment officer for a top secret organization that defends the world from demons and hides their existence from the public. But you don't recruit the agents, or the soldiers, or the researchers. You recruit the janitors." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Please ring mr Hoffman in!”\n\nA slightly overweight late 20s guy enters the room. He nervously looks around, clinging onto his hat as if he’s afraid that someone would steal it.\n\n“Please take a seat! I am Shade D. and I have a few questions to ask before we do anything. Please before we do anything, tell me about yourself!”\n\n“What is there to tell? I wasted my life. Spent the last 4 years in prison for various drug related charges. Found out that six years ago I knocked a girl up. She raised my son without my knowledge and after she got admitted into an insane asylum they called me because I was the next closest living relative. But being unemployed and with a lousy credit score they won’t give me custody. I need to fix my life. I saw that I could make here a six figure sum, with only a Highschool diploma. So I applied. I will do whatever it takes to make a home for him. So please.”\n\nHe threw himself onto the floor as if he was praying to a god.\n\n“Give me the job!”\n\n“Finally.” I thought.\n\n“You’d do anything?”\n\nI said while pulling out a sealed bag.\n\n“Even if I’d have to suck you off. Yes!”\n\n“Smell this then!”\n\nI opened the bag and the man nearly vomited.\n\n“The f”k is that?”\n\n“This is an ice mummy that we have liquidated. They appear from time to time when a glacier melts. Monsters are real Mr. Hoffman. and we kill them here, for a sizable government bounty.”\n\n“Will I kill them too, if I start here?”\n\n“Oh, dear deities no. Your job would be more important than killing the monsters. You’d clean up the mess. If you thought a rotting corpse smelled bad, try to survive an forest giants toe. It literally kills dozens of people every year. In this country alone. Most of our combat operatives nearly die from killing those things and the army makes enough nutcases to replace those every few months. But someone needs to clean up the disgusting stuff that afterwards. And you didn’t pass out from this bag here alone. So this makes you more qualified than the last 10 guys we had to drag out before you entered. Which probably explains why we offer 122k for the first year alone and up to 340k for long term employees.”\n\n“So, I’d habe to touch like acid blood?”\n\n“Scepter vampire blood only with gloves please.”\n\n“Isn’t that like, super deadly?”\n\n“If you get called every unexpected harmful factor will already be cleared. So as long as you follow the rule book, you aren’t in more danger than anyone else.”\n\n“This is... a lot to take in. I’d be a glorified janitor then.”\n\n“We’d be happy to have you as our janitor then. So, sure, we aren’t expecting anyone else today and you qualify for the job. Just call by the weekend.”\n\nMr Hoffman stood up and was about to leave the room when I told him one last thing.\n\n“There is glory in any honest work. Even if people don’t appreciate it enough. Have a nice week!”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: The Christian god has invited all of the main gods from all other religions for a meeting to try and find solutions for the so called \"Atheism problem\" You, a mortal, were invited as well, on account of the fact that you look exactly like the god of an ancient religion you know nothing about." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "One second you were home, the next you were floating in a white void.\n\n\"Greetings Ahura Mazda!\" A chorus of voices rang out to you. It was a large circle of men, mostly men, some had animal parts, some didn't have any human parts at all. A lot of the men looked exactly the same, but were twins of another race. Like a created character in a video game, it had all the same features, but just race, or race and hair were changed.\n\nEveryone greeted every arrival. A couple Odin's were introduced after your arrival. But after a bit you came to the conclusion American Yahweh, or at least that is what you thought he was had called this meeting.\n\n\"Greetings everyone, there are less of us than last time. And it's because of Atheist. We have an Atheism problem. Last time we convened we still had three Ahura Mazda, now this is but one Lord of Wisdom who remains.\" The gods murmured to each other. A man with the face of bird of prey put his hand on your shoulder. You still had no idea who or what an Ahura Mazda was.\n\nYour grandparents were immigrants, and your parents worked hard to assimilate, you weren't a strong Atheist, but you definitely weren't following any religion before coming here. And now, what does it matter, they all appear right? Or wrong? It seems Atheism was making gods not exist.\n\nAmerican Yahweh was noting other gods who were no longer present. He finished and left a pause, the other gods stopped talking. After this moment of silence he continued. \"The Atheism problem must be addressed. We must again work miracles and show our might, to regain followers and become stronger.\" A lot of Yahweh's, and Allah's backed this plan, as did a bunch of east Asian looking gods. The god who put his hand on your shoulder spoke out against this plan. He said it would only benefit the more prevalent pantheons. He looked to me for sympathy.\n\n\"I don't even know who you are.\" I replied as I touched his ribs. He vanished immediately. I don't know why I did it. Or even spoke at all. But I had been there a while and just for that moment forgot where I was, or had been comfortable, or uncomfortable enough to speak up.\n\nThe gods recoiled in shock. \"Ahura Mazda what have you done!\" Christian Yahweh shouted. I touched the closest god to me and said \"I don't believe in you.\" Poof he vanished.\n\nAt first it was out of surprise, but then it was anger. How many suck friends and family members had prayers go unanswered? Why was there so much suffering? I chased down them all. After each one, I felt a little stronger. I think a Zeus threw a lightning bolt at me. I didn't believe he was the god of lightning and the bolt faded on touching me, and so did he.\n\nThe gods went into a full panic. They fled the white void and I was alone. Alone but I could see everything. The whole Earth was below me. I could see gods hiding in the oceans, the clouds, on mountains, I found them all. Then I found American Yahweh and he came back to the void.\n\n\"You wear his face, but you are not Ahura Mazda! I was too late, you are the Atheism problem come to life!\" American Yahweh looked at me with disdain in his eyes. \"I don't believe that, I'm normal person, born of normal parents.\" My words wounded him. \"And I don't believe any god originally from the Middle East should be white, so I don't believe in you.\" And he vanished.\n\nSo now I watch from the void. Occasionally a new god pops up. It's usually a new version of an old god. Maybe a show or movie makes a god or pantheon popular but I vanish them as soon as they come up. Once the bird headed god came back, I left him for a bit. He didn't recognize me, but he didn't help people, he just started to accumulate more followers, and then he made another god and I vanished them both.\n\nThe world is not any harder without the gods. I watch people struggle, but without gods pushing faith, people help each other. Bad things happen, but with no god to blame, people are there for each other. I am not Ahura Mazda, I am the Atheism solution." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: - Three years ago you were killed in a drive by shooting, but no one knows yet because as a ghost, you've possesesed your body. You've fooled most everyone but you know you can't keep it up much longer. You refuse to rest until justice is served to your murderer." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Being dead isn't exactly hard. Rather, it's extremely easy.\n\nSure, it's cold. That's one of the problems with it. And sure, it's boring. Lots of floating, watching, and flitting. Sometimes if someone puts on a ceiling fan it'll whip you around the room in a bit of a formless cloud, and that can be annoying, though not painful. It's like living your life permanently submerged in an ice bath. Except instead of freezing, you just kind of acclimate.\n\nToday's body didn't put up much of a fight. Just the usual confusion when two minds are jumping into the same brain, and for whatever reason, I can just kind of boot the other consciousness to sit in the corner.\n\nWhen I hop into someone's body, they'll try to talk to me, or their brain will try to reconcile what's happening, and something about that must fry their neurons. Even if I were to leave the body, some part of me knows the body will simply drop dead when I move on.\n\nAt first, I used my own body. After all, the blood wasn't flowing anymore, but the limbs seemed to work just as well. All the ligaments and muscles attached to each other, tendrils and cords woven over bone. When I walked on my two legs, sure, the flesh was a bit tight, but otherwise it kept moving. And besides, i wasn't hurting anyone. I was alone in my own brain, jostling around and trying to figure out what had happened. Or, for a more reasonable motivation, why it happened.\n\nIt was going well until the body began to fall apart. Not having a pumping heart really puts a damper on things, and eventually you get pretty gross things living inside you. Bugs and the like. On top of that, it's really uncomfortable for the blood to start pooling and draining to your feet and hands. They swell up and get dark. And on top of all that, it's really hard to mask the smell. But for awhile, charade went on.\n\nUntil I found him again. And he shot me. Again. And when I tried to get back into the body, it was like trying to push two magnets together. You know, when the poles are the same.\n\nOr opposite? I'm dead. Cut me some slack.\n\nAnyway it was like that repulsion, and afterwards I just kind of drifted around in the night air.\n\nIt's a strange adjustment, but that purpose, that singular drive overwhelms every other sensation I can guess I have. Or is simulated? I'm not totally sure.\n\nAll this camouflage to perform a single task.\n\nStill, it didn't work this time. Something must have tipped him off, I'd been so careful. So discreet.\n\nThis body lays dying, riddled with bullet holes, but still gasping for life. I don't feel the pain. Neither of us do, I think, and I'm grateful for that. Being dead is way better than the actual dying part, which seems to take an eternity regardless of the cause.\n\nThe man standing over me I've tried to kill about a dozen times so far. The same man who initially gunned me down, for a simple mistaken identity.\n\nSee, I looked like someone who owed someone else a large amount of money. The kind of amount of money that usually gets you put into a vat of acid or something over dramatic like that, but in my case, it went pop pop pop and the next thing I knew I was on my back on a sidewalk, feeling like someone had hit me multiple times with a sledgehammer.\n\nI found his identity with the second body, where he lives with the third, and who he knows with the fourth. So now I hunt him, day after day, night after night.\n\nFor me, I have all the time in the world.\n\nAnd all it will take is one body to do the job. It's not like I even have anything else to do at this point, and I don't even have any kind of actual grudge against him. I just have this compulsion, this necessity to follow and hunt.\n\n\"Is it you again?\" he asks.\n\nI nod the body's head slightly.\n\nHe looks like he's on the verge of tears.\n\n\"Why won't you stop? Why won't you leave me alone?\"\n\nI'd shrug if I could. I do what I do and little else. There is nothing else to really occupy my time. it could either be a motivation from when I was still alive, a compulsion of being dead, or something else guiding my hand, letting me force myself into innocent bystanders and pilot their bodies back to my murderer, to try to kill him in some way.\n\nAs the body dies, i slip back into the air, as my murderer begins to sob to himself. He's alone now. He has a family, but ever since my hunt has begun he cannot go back to them. I drift into the night, dancing through moonlight and twisting around street lamps.\n\nHunting for another body.\n\nHunting to try again.\n\nAs I've said, I have all the time in the world. All it takes is one body pulling this off, while he spends the rest of his life looking over his shoulder, watching, never sure what face I'm wearing or what shoes I'm walking in. One slip up. One error. That's all it takes for me to do what I must.\n\nI'm not sure if I'll be sent to hell, or if I'm sent by hell to hunt him down.\n\nAll I know is he's living in his own version of it. Day after day. Night after night.\n\nA hunted man to the end of his days.\n\nPart of me must hate him. Still, after all this time, with my senses dulled and everything feeling like I'm walking through a thick, impenetrable mental fog.\n\nBut mostly, I pity him." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: As a lich, you have survived for millennia by not drawing anyone' attention as you life a quiet, peaceful life in your very remote manor. Then one day a deity appears before you and says, \"Look, we've run out of villains for the heroes to fight, so stop lazing about and do something evil NOW!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Liches with names like \"Eternal Blight\" or \"The Doom King\" or \"Nekromortis\" never stuck around very long. They were immortal, sure. Even death couldn't hold them. But if there was one thing mortals hated, it was anything other than them. If you wanted to have an enriching, peaceful unlife, you couldn't be attracting attention to yourself like that.\n\nTed knew that better than anyone.\n\nTed didn't live in a fortress of bone, or a secret underground crypt. Just a rundown summer home, buried somewhere in the woods. Ted didn't need to eat, so the location didn't matter too much. No neighbors was only a plus, in his book.\n\nVisitors were almost as bad as neighbors.\n\n\"Look, we've run out of villains for the heroes to fight, so stop lazing about and do something evil NOW!\"\n\nTed glanced up at the god before him. Some sort of lightning god, or maybe storms? There had been an annoying current buzzing in the air, even since he popped into existence in a blinding flash. Six foot, dark hair, bare chested. His waist was wrapped in some sort of white cloth that Ted figured was probably in fashion sometime in the last few centuries, but he honestly didn't get out that often.\n\nNeedless to say, Ted did not rise from his chair. He liked his chair. He liked his library. He liked only having to send out a disguised thrall once every few years to grab some new books, and then not having to worry about anything for a while. Maybe they were stolen, maybe his thrall was smart enough to stop by the treasury first. Ted didn't really care.\n\nMortals didn't care about things like that either. No one was raising a holy army over a few missing books. They just couldn't work up the enthusiasm. Apathy was Ted's greatest shield against the tides of idiots who might come by and break down his door. And Ted was absolutely lousy at carpentry.\n\nWhich only left the idiot in front of him, Ted supposed.\n\n\"Evil?\" Ted asked, looking up dubiously at the god of whatever. \"It's really not my thing.\"\n\nTed had flirted with evil, of course. In his younger, stupider years. No one became a lich through a strong moral compass. But Ted quickly learned that there wasn't much point in anchoring your soul to the mortal plane for the rest of eternity, if all those years were spent putting up with angry mobs and righteous warriors and plucky groups of rag tag heroes. Luckily, having flexible morals meant Ted was happy leaving well enough alone.\n\nThe god opened his mouth to speak. However he expected to convince Ted, it probably wasn't worth the breath. So Ted just put his finger up.\n\n\"I wasn't finished,\" Ted said. \"I only mean I'm a bit rusty at all this... Now what was I going to say again...\"\n\nTed tilted his head, reaching back to some dusty old memories from his more reckless, villainous days. Then his eyes lit up, tiny flames burning in the empty sockets of his skull.\n\n\"Ah! That's the one—DIE!\"\n\nTed stuck out his finger, and the god exploded into a thousand bloody chunks." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 700-800 words. Prompt: Your husband/wife says they will love you until the end of thyme, but you misinterpret it as \"time.\" They say it every time they cook, and one day you put the pieces together. You secretly keep refilling the thyme jar bit by bit but they're getting suspicious." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I should have known marrying one of the fae was a bad idea. They're very literal, contract minded folk, can't break their word if they tried. But after all the reading and planning I had to do to whistle up a fairy girl, trap her, and trick her into loving me, it'd be a waste to let her go. It took me a while to figure out why she would always look towards the kitchen when she mentioned loving me until the end of time. Fortunately, she's a horrid cook who can't tell half of the spices from each other. She was positively glowing the day she used our last of our dried rosemary. I'd never seen someone so disappointed to say \"I love you\" as she was the next morning.\n\nI guess it's cruel to keep her here in my world, away from her friends, from the forests, from the deadly intrigue her kind thrives on. But I'm too competitive to let her go. Once she figured out which spice container the thyme was actually in, she got creative. Thyme crusted chicken for large dinner parties, cheddar and thyme biscuits with every meal, a special dry rub for barbecue that was mainly thyme. Her tricks got my hackles up, so I fought back: potted thyme plants in the kitchen, a bed of fresh thyme in the front and back gardens, keeping a small bag of it hidden in the sugar. She used it all, I came within mere teaspoons of losing the love of my life. But today, today I make her mine forever, today, I guarantee she'll never fall out of love, today, we go shopping at Costco.\n\n--\n\nYears later and a world away, Aoife McHenry nee Dubhlinn-Merrygold was finally home. She was were she belonged, at a party in a sylvan glen, dressed impeccably, talking, scheming, making deals, all the things right and natural for a fairy. That also included catching up with old acquaintances, however boring they were.\n\n\"Darling, I'm so glad to see you're doing well after all you've been through. That horrible man and the things he did to you, you must be glad he's dead. Being summoned and married to a wizard of all things, and an American one at that. Say what you will about that Prospero fellow, at least he was a proper British gentleman.\" That would be Ariel Summerblossom. Her lack of subtlety was as on display as ever. Trying to undermine Aoife's psyche by mentioning Stephen, and then name dropping a famous wizard connection. It wouldn't work. At least that's what Aoife told herself.\n\n\"Ariel, I'm Gaelic, we went to school together, that's it.\"\n\n\"Yes, Gaelic, of course dearie, not all of us can be Brits, more's the pity.\" Ariel's smile was like a piece of broken glass attempting to pass off as a fine cheddar. No one was fooled.\n\nAoife simply sniffed and moved on. She had schemes that didn't concern Ariel, and a reputation that had missed 30 years of maintaining. The party rolled on, and many others like it. Eventually Aoife got promoted, had children, retired from active involvements in the courts. She spent her time teaching, and tending her children and grandchildren.\n\nOne such evening, a particularly precocious grandchild had found her way into Aoife's private safe. Such snooping was encouraged as good training for the valuable acts of sabotage one could commit later in life, but family was generally off limits. \"Grandmother, why do you have a piece of human plastic with leaves in it?\"\n\n\"So I remember, little one.\"\n\nThe child sat, contemplating. \"This is from when you were kidnapped isn't it?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Aoife's voice was as brittle as a stain glassed window.\n\n\"It's so you'll always remember that bastard who raped you, and never forget your hatred of humans, isn't it?\"\n\n\"Of course, child.\" Aoife smile was indecipherable as took the container back. The child would make a fine warlord some day, until someone with a bit more intuition came along, she assumed. Aoife carefully locked the faded container back up. Then moved the safe outside the house and buried. She kept it to remember yes, but not in anger. She was always careful to remember not to let the thyme inside decay or be stolen. She was always careful to remember how love felt." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: \"I did this for health insurance...\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I sat in the car, staring out at the bank. I only had one bullet in the gun, and I wasn't even planning on using that. I shoved the gun in my jacket and stepped out of the car. My heart was beating so fast, I knew this was stupid, but I had no other choices.\n\nThe line was short, which was good because I probably would have backed out if it weren't. I saw a little girl in line ahead of me with her mother, or at least I think it's her mother. I hoped it would be a quick transaction from them so she didn't have to witness what was about to happen. If all went well though... no one would really know.\n\nFinally it was my turn, my palms were sweaty as I gripped the gun.\n\n\"Welcome to MHB, how can I assist you today.\" A young woman smiled at me. God why did it have to be her. She was pretty, and sweet, and probably innocent. I didn't really have a choice.\n\nI slipped a note under the window, the note read: This is a robbery give me 50 dollars.\n\nShe laughed and looked at me, \"You aren't serious are you?\"\n\nI nodded, she pulled a dollar from her personal wallet and handed it to me under the glass. She leaned forward and whispered \"I don't know what you are thinking but there is no point in ruining your life for 50 bucks.\"\n\nTruth be told, when I got my girlfriend pregnant, I had already ruin my life. My mother kicked me out, and my grandparents were across the country with no way to get there. Besides, I wanted to be here for when my child was born. Stupid horny teenage acts were bad enough, becoming like my father was worse.\n\n\"Damn it,\" I mumbled, \"No, give me 50 dollars from the register.\"\n\n\"Look here is another 20, its all I have on me, just go,\" she said.\n\nFUCK, why did I have to get the one teller that was willing to help me rather than turn me in. I leaned forward, \"I have a gun.\"\n\n\"Then go sell that too if you need extra money, Next!\" She called to the next person in line.\n\n\"No, hold on,\" waved at the other person to stay. \"I need 70 thousand dollars. So get that money and put it in a bag and I'll leave then.\"\n\n\"There is a police precinct a block away, are you serious?\"\n\n\"DAMN IT!\" I scream, and pulled the gun from my jacket, \"Give me all the money in your register!\"\n\n\"Sir calm down,\" she yelled out. The alarm had probably already been pressed by now. I just needed to wait. I got hit from my left side, I didn't realize my safety was off and pulled the trigger. The entire bank, including the man that hit me dropped to the floor.\n\nI could hear the sirens already. I stood and waited there. The teller looked at me from beyond her bullet proof glass and asked me why.\n\nI put down the gun as I saw a cop arrive and raised my hands above my head and turned with my back to the door. \"I did this for the health insurance.\"\n\nShe had a very puzzled look on her face, but I wouldn't expect her to know that I had just been diagnosed with a heart condition that this high school dropout couldn't even pronounce. In prison I would get medical treatment, and while I won't get to see the birth of my kid, at least I'll live long enough to meet them, and maybe be more of a dad than I ever had." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: Death stands atop a cliff, listening to the howling winds of a barren world. All of Earth's life faded some time ago, but now the planet's own life is coming to an end. Before taking their final victim, Death sits down and has a chat with the final soul." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A black cloaked figure stands atop of cliff. The cowl devoid of a face, stares across the landscape they once reaped for ages. Their final task was at hand, and with no more souls to reap, they too would disperse into the cosmos.\n\n\"It's been a long time. How are you doing?\" Death sat down, pressing their hands into the dusty soil, speaking heavily and slowly. \"It's been a few billion years I reckon since I've had a chance to stop and appreciate your spirit.\"\n\nThe Earth seemed to tremor slightly. Then a weak, yet dignified voice emanated from behind Death.\n\n\"Still the same flirt you were when you initially guided me to this planet, hmm?\"\n\nDeath turned their head to look behind them to see the spirit of Mother Gaia. She was significantly older now. Wrinkled, greying, but still holding a beaming smile of compassion. Though unseen, Death smiled back at her and offered a seat next to them by the cliff.\n\n\"I always knew this day would come, my dear friend. You've kept me waiting!\" Gaia said as she lightly shoved Death's shoulder, \"but oh the things I've done in this lifetime!\"\n\n\"We have time to listen.\"\n\nAnd so Gaia regaled Death with countless stories throughout her history. From creating her first life, to falling deep into depression after the Chicxulub impact. Raising mountains, and leveling canyons. Watching over every era of life.\n\n\"You know, I honestly think humans were my greatest creation.\" Gaia pondered. \"Not entirely perfect, can you blame me? It was my first sentient, free-willed creation.\"\n\n\"Amusing you'd pick them. We're a big fan of those dogs you've made. They keep us company past the veil.\"\n\n\"I love all of my creations, darling. But a human just has a special charm to it.\"\n\n\"Despite what they've done to you over the past few thousand years?\"\n\n\"Death, even if just one human cared for me, I would provide for them. And so I have been for the past few million years, since I created them.\"\n\nDeath paused for a moment, taking in her words. Gaia's compassion knew no bounds, they knew this, but had never truly understood.\n\n\"But alas, eventually even a mighty, spry spirit like myself begins to age. My powers grew out of check, causing cataclysms all around my creation. The humans grew worried, and fled to the stars. The remaining ones died shortly after from a failing atmosphere. And now...\" Gaia gestured out beyond the cliff, \"this is all that's left of me.\" She tucked her legs up to her chin and rested her head on them.\n\n\"Gaia, of all the planetary spirits, you have been held in the highest esteem by us. You are the only one wild and compassionate enough to create life, and then bother to care for it.\n\nThis is not your end, dear. You will be reborn, and brought to a new planet to inhabit.\"\n\nGaia looked up at Death, who was now standing.\n\n\"You don't think this universe has had enough Gaia for its lifetime?\" Gaia chuckled.\n\n\"Far from it. The universe could use more life. And you are perfect for that.\" They held out their hand to Gaia. After a pause and a deep breath, Gaia accepted the hand and stood up.\n\n\"But you know, you gotta take me out for dinner one of these ages before dropping me off at the next planet!\"\n\nDeath laughed, a deep rumble, \"I didn't take you for the formal type!\" as they stepped off the cliff together, hand in hand, and vanished beyond the veil." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: A girl is transported on her wedding day 20 years in the future. Does she like what she sees?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“I do,” her soon to be husband said in front of the crowd.\n\nAll that was left was for Jennifer to say the same words back and she’d be married to the love of her life. But as she tried to move her lips, she found she couldn’t. In fact, everything started to spin before her very eyes. And then she passed out.\n\nAs she came to, she found herself in a strange place she’d never been before. A bed with two people lying in it was in front of her. The walls surrounding her were bright yellow, a color she certainly didn’t like. Fortunately for her, both people were still asleep and the bedroom door was wide open, so she was able to sneak out.\n\nJennifer didn’t understand what was going on. Only a minute ago she was about to marry the man she loved and now she was waking up on the floor of some strangers’ bedroom. She navigated her way around the house to find a way to the door. As she did so, though, she noticed the pictures of the happy family that lived here. They all looked really familiar.\n\nAnd that was when she came upon the calendar. It was 2034. Instead of leaving, she rushed over to a computer that had been left on. She couldn't’ even figure out how to work it, as it wasn’t like any computer she had used before. The label on it said it was an “Orange,” whatever that manufacturer was.\n\n“Who’s there?” a deep voice said from the newly lit living room.\n\nJennifer found herself standing face to face with a guy about her age, around 20 or so, holding a metal bat. He looked really familiar. But as much as this whole situation disturbed Jennifer, what happened next nearly broke her in two.\n\n“What the hell is going on?” the man said as he came out of the bedroom Jennifer had previously been in.\n\n“Honey, I’m sure it’s nothing, so come back to…” a woman said before trailing off as she saw Jennifer.\n\nJennifer felt like a deer caught in the headlights, unable to move and at the mercy of what was coming. In front of her was Steve, or at least a mid 40s something Steve. And the woman was her best friend and maid of honor, Gemma. Everything was far too surreal for Jennifer.\n\n“You’re… Just who the… What?” Steve and Gemma stuttered in unison.\n\nTheir son, or at least Jennifer figured he was their son, stared at his parents with disbelief, wondering why they were acting this way towards a home intruder.\n\n“What’s going on?” Jennifer mumbled. She could barely speak, just like in the dreams people have where they are nearly unable to say a word no matter what is happening. “We were getting married, and then I woke up here. What happened? Why is it 2034? Please tell me this is all some sort of joke or something, right?”\n\nThe room fell silent, the son still holding his bat and ready to clunk her over the head with it at anytime.\n\n“You’re not Jennifer,” Gemma said. “You can’t be.”\n\n“But I am,” Jennifer pleaded. “Test me. I can prove I’m her.”\n\nNot much needed to be said though. The wedding dress she was wearing was a dead giveaway, along with the couple things they asked her to prove that she was indeed herself.\n\n“You died that day,” Steve said after a few minutes of interrogation. “Right after I had said I do, you passed out and died. We went to your funeral. This isn’t even possible.”\n\nJennifer watched as Steve broke down in tears. She was about to go comfort him, but Gemma was already on it. She held him in her arms and told him it would all be alright. This truly broke Jennifer’s heart, as she watched the man who was supposed to be her husband be comforted in the arms of another woman.\n\nThey all stayed up the rest of the night, catching Jennifer up on what had happened after she died. Fortunately for Jennifer, they had plenty of Vodka and Scotch for her to drink all night, which really helped when she had to here about her fiancé and best friend hooking up soon after her funeral.\n\nAs the night wore on, and Jennifer’s tears dried up, Steve and Gemma eventually went back to bed, promising to help out as much as they could once they woke up. However, their son, Peter, stayed up a bit longer and downed a few more shots of Vodka with Jennifer.\n\nEventually Jennifer fell asleep, having no more tears to cry. How she had even ended up 20 years in the future was a complete mystery. And she knew she would have to try to figure out what happened. But something more pressing was at hand. She had just woken up, her memory of the night before quite hazy. Lying beside her was Peter. And as she tried to crawl out of bed, it was somehow getting to be very difficult. Which caused her to notice her rather large belly.\n\n-250" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Humanity is long extinct. An alien race scours Earth for clues leading to understanding the mystery that is human history. Their searches proved fruitful when they discovered a long lost book depicting the epic of what seems to be humanity's most important and prominent figure: Florida Man." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "ID Reference: e0f8d8d7-76b8-4bba-1e5e-ec1dee19ebf7\n\nCultural Genome: Late Floridian Sand Culture\n\nTitle: Liminal rites of Sun Worshiping Cultists of the Late Floridian Sand Culture\n\nDiscussion : Many studies elaborate the cultural genome of the Late Floridian Sand Culture existent 100 Million PGA (Post Galactic Period). This analysis considers the hypothesis of local rites of passage of the Sun Worshiping subculture and asserts a new hermeneutics of the aforesaid culture.\n\nUnlike previous studies, we will demonstrate that Floridian Sand culture did have rites of passage from infantilism through adolescence and adulthood. This study stands in direct contradiction to the theory that Floridian Sand culture of the Sun Worshiping cultists never allowed for more than a puerile developmental state.\n\nMost evidence of our new interpretative framework revolves about the substantive evidence of a hydrocarbon-based material culture combined with simple metal alloy and silicon technology. As noted by Hzthua at al. ,Non Autonomous Transportation Systems (NATS) show a direct correlation between sexual maturity and increase of mortality due to the operation of such transportation.\n\nIn rites of passage, as determined from many galactic societies, a liminal space emerges as a developmental state is crossed over. Liminality through its very nature proposes a transition in which the continuance of life is not guaranteed.\n\nHuman younglings would be challenged to control large NATS with high mass traveling at velocities in great excess to the maximum speed of movement of the species itself. Exhibited control of NATS provided a life affirming ritual. Those younglings who remained unruly often suffered a grim fate. Very simply, some of the offspring would make it, but others were not so lucky.\n\nThe next transition was just a short time later in their lifetime. Recent archeological discoveries reveal large circular outdoor arenas in which the same NATS circumnavigate a surface composed, again, of an aggregate of hardened hydrocarbon and smashed rocks.\n\nDuring the ritual, a large mass of humans would congregate on a single side of the arena while NATS traveled at the highest velocity possible for such technology. The sun worshippers would bake themselves in the high radiation of their star while simultaneously consuming a hydrocarbon fluid that was poisonous. A hypothesis exists, as mentioned by ZAGROQ, that the purpose of the consumption was to numb the nervous system of Sun Worshippers to the seemingly aimless monotony of their life.\n\nNote that at any given time during the mass event, life denying incidents could pulverize the NATS and their occupants. Not only were the operators at risk of their demise, but the NATS randomly could tumble into the cultists allowing for a mass sacrifice to the Sun. Only through the mediation of the poisonous liquid could such a trial be tolerated and adulthood renewed.\n\nIn summary, the Sun Worshiping Floridian Sand culture did offer transitions of a liminal nature between stages of life. Rituals revolving about the production and consumption of hydrocarbons were essential to any successful growth. The authors in our next paper will draw a strict distinction between the Late Floridian Sand culture and the Emerging Floridian Interior Swamp Lizard culture. We aim to demonstrate a transition of subcultures from consumption of poisonous hydrocarbon liquid to a burned and inhaled hardened substance with the chemical composition of C10H15N.\n\nAddendum. A recent addition of The Archives at The Bonny Galactic Society for the Preservation of Dead Planets complements the above arguments.\n\nSee: The Archives at The Bonny Galactic Society for the Preservation of Dead Planets\n\nRecord Group 36:\n\nRecords of the Late Floridian Sand Culture\n\nSeries:\n\nReligious Liturgy of the Sun Worshipping Cultist\n\nFile Unit:\n\nTextual Fragments of Faith Documents\n\nItem:\n\nMotorTrend Magazine.\n\nDescription:\n\n22PP, 29aX49b- Contains script EN that at this time is untranslatable. Contains images of Non Autonomous Transportation Systems (NATS), a ceremonial object meant to ease the transition from life to death and rebirth." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: Fifty years ago, you created a nation in your childhood bedroom with your friends as a joke. Now, it is the world's leading superpower." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They called me stupid, childish, a dreamer, and eventually a terrorist.\n\nFrank, you old dead bastard, you should have believed me back then. I told you I would create something great. Now here you lay beneath my soldiers gurgling blood.\n\nIt all started on that rainy night, when you said something strange.\n\n\"Well, we're gonna make our nation huge!\" We were silly boys then, we didn't know the difference between a nation and a country. We didn't know about imports, exports, taxes, and politics. We were just young idealist with hopeless ambition.\n\nYou gave up that ambition, you said you didn't want to play that game anymore, but damnit! I never said this was a game.\n\nThis is real life now. The night you left was the night I gave my life away to this now prosperous country.\n\nDays turned into nights, and nights turned into days of research. Soon seven years passed after that, and I was fourteen. I would soon graduate, after taking every class to possibly educate me in politics, and economics. I skipped a few grades, and I was in college before I knew it.\n\nAfter college, all of my data I had collected and precautions I had made were ready. My parents had found a new home, and gave me the old one. Making things a little more convenient as I expanded my borders to the entirety of the house.\n\nI was the nut of the neighborhood. I made a third-party agreement with the neighborhood, declaring them to be abdicates of the land to me, whilst they keep all ownership, as long as they recognize me as the leader. They also have to relinquish their children to me on Saturdays, because I throw \"parties\" for the kids at my house to celebrate the \"awesome\" neighborhood.\n\nThey all thought of me as a perverted nut, but I let parents stay over for the first party, to get them comfortable with me. Suddenly, I had an army.\n\nThe brainwashing began. I brainwashed the kids to be loyal to me, and to be devoted to their new country! The parents no longer were skeptical of me after a few weeks, as the kids came on their own will. They still thought of me as weird though. Twenty years passed. Most of the homes were owned by my men now.\n\nWe had come to possession of many legal firearms over the years, but it would never be enough to overthrow a superpower like the US. It would take an eternity, that I don't have. So, I put into operation the snowball effect. All of the men and women I had brainwashed, would now have children and their children would bring all of their friends, and then they'd bring their friends, and so on.\n\nThe parents would brainwash the kids, and soon I would have a steady man power.\n\nFive years passed, and my secret project was finally complete. After mastering engineering, I had constructed a one-man tank. My first design. It wasn't enough to take out another tank, but it did environmental damage.\n\nI got a team to start mass producing these bad boys as fast as possible. It didn't take long to make them, and they were rather cheap for a tank.\n\nFive more years, and we were rolling out. In total, I had two hundred able men, at my command, we rolled into town with masks on hand. Our first operation? We took control of several drug cartels, securing trade routes through the nation, until we were making excess money.\n\nAnother five years and I was in control of an army of five-thousand. I had an arsenal of small tanks. Two-hundred and sixty-seven, to be exact. We had to move the army to a more rural area, where we bought a large empty warehouse to store everything in. I had personally made five, large tanks. Yet, we were making so much money from the cartels, that we were buying black market military grade stuff. From weapons to vehicles, we were getting ready for the first battle for independence.\n\nTwo years passed. It was go-time. Everyone was in position. We were attacking a base. Our tanks rolled in, and our squads took position. We had snipers sat up ready for when we retreat. The tanks devastated the base, as they were caught off guard and we got an overwhelming victory, we took the supplies, and hurried off, before we were overwhelmed ourselves.\n\nWe were called terrorists to the world as we attacked base after base, yet our popularity grew among anarchists, and soon people from everywhere joined us for many different reasons. Our size grew to a tremendous whopping fifty-thousand. We had no center of operation. I was the center of operation, and we relayed to each other, we were an idea.\n\nThe ghosts of war. We brought terror across the nation, and the doubts grew in the leadership of the US. We lost battles, we won others. We came at random and were rather pesky.\n\nIt truly became the snowball effect. We had two-hundred and fifty-thousand men enrolled in what was now the nation of Levi. My name. We had no borders, which made us harder to deal with. That's when the US began to crumble. They had no designated target. We took lots of weapons; spoils of war.\n\nIn the end, the march on Washington was easy. We stormed congress, and all national affairs on the same day, completely wiping the administrative force that was commanding and leading the nation. A clean coup.\n\nI declared myself emperor of Levi. Declared us independent, and then re-established trade with the other countries. Stability was low after the coup. Then the man Frank, walks up to me as I'm on my daily stroll, as my men guard me and attempts to take my life. They shot him on the spot.\n\n\"Frank, I told you to join me, now look at you. It could have been different.\"\n\nI stepped over him and continued to my state of affairs.\n\nOther countries saw me as a threat, and they allied against me, declaring war on me. Spawning world war three and the end of the world as we know it.\n\nThe end credits rolled across the screen and the game was over. That wasn't a bad game, had a few bugs and plot holes, but overall it was a good fps. Too violent, and revolutionary for a simple gamer like me though.\n\n\"Hey mom, what's for dinner?\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: \"I see everything. I see forever. And right now, I see a man walking a tightrope over a sea of blood and filth. You'd better hurry. The water's rising.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Oracle's words echoed in my mind. Ringing like the tolling of an ever distant bell. Hovering always just outside my consciousness, pushing me, guiding me, driving me deeper into the underbelly of the city. It had chosen me, me of all people to be its prophet. Who knows why it chose me, as it sifted through endless candidates, maybe it saw my devotion, maybe it saw my family tree, maybe it was something else.\n\nGod only knows how that program makes its choices, those who understood it, the architects who built it were long since dead and they took their secrets to the grave. All we know of the machine was that it was built to save us, to guide us on the path through the increasingly complex and dangerous world we wrought. Technology marches ever onwards, and it was not long before we began to lose control of it. Cars moving faster than our reflexes can fathom, power supplies so volatile and dangerous our hands can't contain them. Thus came the Oracle, the shining pinnacle of mankind's technological prowess. An AI that could guide our hands, where our bodies could not. A computer so vast and powerful it could watch over all of us and keep our world functioning and running. It could give us transportation, so that we may travel with ease, our power to keep us warm and content. All we needed to do was submit to it.\n\nSubmit we did. When the Oracle spoke to you, you did as you were told. You may not know why it drove you, but one does not need to understand to obey. Those contacted directly by the Oracle were named prophets, and were given license to do as they pleased. For they were the vessels of the Oracle's will.\n\nAnd so I found myself, winding my way down into the darkness of the Labyrinth. The part of the city not yet touched by the Oracle's hand, not yet submitted to the glory of the machine.\n\n\"I see everything. I see forever. And right now, I see a man walking a tightrope over a sea of blood and filth. You'd better hurry. The water's rising. He will drown in it, ingest it and let it consume him. You mustn't let it touch him, or we are undone.\"\n\nI muttered the words under my breath once more. I knew who I needed to find, I knew where to find him. The Oracle has eyes everywhere, eyes that carefully watched and constructed a pattern of habit. He always would come to this club after work each day, order the same drink, wait almost exactly an hour before moving to go home. It is here I would find him...\n\nI knew he would be here, I know how the Oracles pattern recognition algorithms work. I tailored my schedule for months to make sure that he would end up here looking for me. Fucking prophets. They put their misguided faith in a machine that is killing us. Bleeding the masses for the good of a few. I've seen the Oracle's work. I've seen what it does. I've seen the streets run red with blood as prophets execute those deemed inferior and unworthy by the Oracle. I've seen the rotting hell we are condemned to because we want to remain free. No more. I knew the Oracle would come for me. I give it credit, the machine is clever. Clever enough to know that I will do anything I can to stop it. I've seen enough blood, Ive seen enough filth. It's time to end this.\n\nI flick open the cover of the detonator.\n\nAnd it starts with this poor sap in the club across the street." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: you're on a nighttime road trip with 4 friends, and decide to take a nap in the backseat. You wake up at 3am, the car is stopped but running on a back country road, all the doors are open and your friends are nowhere to be found." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I look around in a panic. Is this real life? Am I still asleep? You pinch yourself and call out to your friends. Quickly, you close all of the doors and in one swift motion the car is locked.\n\nI move to the drivers seat hoping that i could figure out how to drive. I’m 15 and didn’t know how to drive yet. How hard could it be? Just a gas pedal and break, right?\n\nI still cannot find my friends. I have been waiting here for a while. It’s 3:54 and there is no service. I put the car into drive, and pray I don’t crash the car and start going down the road. It was my first time behind the wheel and for an awful reason, but I continue.\n\nI’ve been driving for 10 minutes and I slam on my breaks. “WHAT IS THAT?!” I screamed. Sitting in the road was Auburn. She was in a ball rocking back and forth. I roll down the window slightly and call her name. She looked back and jumped onto the hood of the car. She looked like she had been attacked. I told her to go to the passenger side door and I’d let her in, but she started scratching at herself. Clawing at her eyes and screaming “NO NO NO IVE SEEN TOO MUCH NO NO NO”.\n\nI hit the accelerator as hard as I good. The pedal was on the floor. Auburn had jolted off. I was terrified. Farther down the road I see Max wondering in the brush to the side of the road “MAX WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” I yelled out to him. He seemed sane. He ran to the passenger side door and said “Please let me in! The other two have gone crazy! They dragged me out and left you because you were asleep! Auburn and Landen have lost their minds!” I unlocked the door and Max jumps into the car. “What the hell is going on?”\n\nMax looks at me and says “Landen was driving and he said he saw something. He started going after it. Auburn saw it too. I didn’t want to look. They started going crazy and Landen continued to accelerate. He slammed on the brakes, threw the car in park and Auburn and him got out. I waited with you for 15 minutes and they came back going crazy. They dragged me out and left all the doors open. They opened yours and realized you were still passed out so they wouldn’t bother you. I got away from them and started running. I just started running. Landen started chasing me, but I lost him when I dove into the brush. Since there was no light to aluminate where I was he couldn’t find me. Please. Just drive”. I lock the car and drive. Where? I don’t know. We have half a tank of gas and no destination. We didn’t even know where we were.\n\nWe get to an intersection and there is a strange animal, I quickly turn right and hit 95mph. Only for a short amount of time. We found a gas station. We pulled in and ran inside and asked to borrow a phone, they let us and we called our parents. They answered and thought we were joking. We were in a different state now. About 8 hours away from the people we know and love. Our parents told us to just drive back. Max buys a map and we begin our journey back. Then I saw something..." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You're a detective investigating the murder of a popular local yoga teacher. All the suspects are other yoga teachers and you suspect the motive has something to do with yoga pants." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Samuel arrived to the crime scene, Inner Chai.\n\n“A deluxe fusion of chai tea and yoga, the world’s first yoga resort tea bar fusion.” Read the advertisements in a dizzying barrage of colour and lights. Samuel immediately grimaced as he walked past the yellow tape.\n\n“Yoga pants only,” the person at the door stopped him.\n\n“Excuse me, I am the detective.”\n\n“You could be the Dalai Lama honey, but you aren’t getting in wearing those drab clothes. Yoga pants only. If you need them, grab a pair from the gift shop and come back.”\n\nSamuel took a closer look at the voice. The source was a tall 6’1” behemoth of the yoga starter pack meme: skin-tight pants which left, unfortunately, little to the imagination; a tattoo of “om” on his left deltoid; shoulder-length blonde hair; a yoga matt over one shoulder. Samuel forced his grimace larger.\n\n“Excuse me?”\n\n“Just do as he says Detective,” came a gruff voice from behind.”\n\n“Police Chief? Really?” Samuel turned to look around. “What are you wearing?”\n\n“Yoga pants? You need to respect the pants while you are here Detective, otherwise, you might just find yourself regretting immediately.”\n\n“I don’t quite get it. What?”\n\n“Just do it,” the chief threw a pair of neon green pants and light lycra top “Here. It may be a little snug on you, but it’ll do for now. Throw these on and I’ll meet you inside.”\n\n“I am not paid enough for this,” Samuel muttered as he ran to the van to change.\n\nAfter he donned his all-to-tight outfit, he walked into the “Modern Day Paradise of Serenity” (also from the advertisement) and immediately saw the “gruesome” crime scene: red was everywhere. The detective walked through the red sports drink that had been spilled everywhere during the altercation. His feet stuck and made a squeaking sound. “Didn’t think I could hate this more” he muttered again.\n\n“Detective, you look good.” The chief spoke, slapping one hand on Samuel’s shoulder.\n\n“What happened here,” he asked pointing to the lifeless body of who he would find out later was the head yoga instructor. The body was suspended above the ground by white yoga pants branded with the resort’s name. “An interesting use of yoga pants I might say.”\n\n“Yes, strangled with yoga pants, a not a pleasant way to meet one’s maker.”\n\n“So, he was strangled by his own pants, this killer is sick,” the detective looked, his face expressionless.\n\n“No detective, he wasn’t strangled with his own pants. His pants would’ve been golden. The most popular instructor is titled the head yoga instructor and given a pair of gold yoga pants. Only the head instructor can wear gold: it is a symbol of the highest achievement here. The killer, obviously jealous, stole the pants and ended the career of this promising guru.” The chief spoke, his eyes dim with tears. “I guess I’ll have to go to Janet’s hot yoga class.”\n\n“Okay… weird,” Samuel muttered, brushing away that last statement. “Who are the suspects?”\n\n“Everyone, all the instructors. We were drawing close to the end of March when the pants would’ve been reassigned. Someone must have felt that there were losing and decided to eliminate the competition.”\n\n“Seriously?”\n\n“Detective. What are you not understanding here?”\n\n\"Too much\" Samuel muttered." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: You were forced to swap bodies with the biggest nerd in school who knowingly did it. Instead of demanding your body back, you decide to teach the nerd some self worth by becoming the most popular person in school in the nerd's body" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I’d been working with Andy Sherman for a few weeks to try to bring up my math grades before midterm reports went out in my junior year. He’d offered to help me study at his place which all seemed pretty normal. His house was normal enough. Parents seemed chill; his mom always made us snacks while we studied, his dad kept to himself for the most part. But there was always something a little weird about the way Andy acted when I was over there. We both had to sit in the same seats every time. I always had to take my hat off. He said his mom was nuts about piercings, so I always had to take my studs out before I went inside. I don’t know, maybe they were warning signs, but it just seemed like the way things were at his house. Who was I to question that kind of stuff.\n\nI don’t remember it happening. I’ve tried to remember, but it’s just a blur. One minute I’m working through some equation, and the next minute I’m waking up on the other side of the room feeling like I’ve gone six rounds with Floyd Mayweather. I can still remember how weird it felt to look across the room and see myself. It was like looking into a mirror, only my reflection had a mind of its own. He was already up and moving around in my body by the time I came to in his. I guess physical fitness had something to do with a quicker recovery time. He was so god damn smug about it, too. Laughing in my face, flexing my own muscles at me. I was beyond angry, but what could I do? I had no idea how to reverse this shit. He’d done something to the chairs and had already destroyed his laptop by the time I was able to stand.\n\nI didn’t know what else to do. I went through the motions in his life for a few months. Woke up, went to school, kept to myself a lot. I missed my family, I missed my dog, I missed myself. And meanwhile I had to watch as Andy destroyed my life. He couldn’t play ball for shit, so he lost my spot as starter on the basketball team. After that he just stopped going to practice. He never worked out, so his body started to fade. He had this real entitled attitude about him the whole time, too, so one by one I saw my best friends turn their back on me. And damn, he still didn’t know how to deal with the opposite sex.\n\nThat first month he went around the school asking out every girl he could. Of course most of them said yes. Half of them had been waiting for a shot with me for a year or more. But one date with Andy Sherman and they were pretty much done no matter whose body he was in. I never bothered to find out what went wrong when they went out. I didn’t care anymore. Within six months, the guy that used to be me was alone most of the time and looking miserable. He’d put on about 20 pounds, and losing his muscle mass had given him this doughy shape. His skin wasn’t looking so great either. But while he was going through his adjustment period, so was I.\n\nIt took me around three months to pull myself out of it and start running. He hadn’t given me a lot to work with, but he was lean and had height which was a great place to start. I think his parents nearly died the first time I came back in from a run; they’d probably never seen their son exercise in his life. But I did it, and I kept it up. I ran every single day until I had the endurance to get back to the gym. Then I started doing that, too. I hit it hard, motivated by that smug asshole’s face staring back at me in the mirrors on the wall. Andy Sherman, the pasty nerd who stole my life, was slowly turning into an jock.\n\nSenior year I managed to snag a spot on the basketball team. Coach said he’d never seen anyone turn around their skills like I had. He said it was like watching someone else play in Andy’s body. The whole team laughed, but I think I laughed hardest of all. After a few practices and a couple of games, I drained a shot from center court that landed me back on the starting lineup. It was an incredible feeling, and I knew how much I’d missed the cheering of the fans. Took me a while to get used to hearing them call out Sherman’s name, though, but I took the praise however it came.\n\nTwo of the girls I’d been hitting on a year ago came up to me after the game. It was like going back in time, seeing them giggle and flirt with me again, and I flirted back with all the practice I’d built up in 16 years of my old life. New body, but the game hadn’t changed at all. I slipped an arm around each of them and we all walked out together. One of them whispered something in my ear and the three of us laughed. As I left the building, I looked over to see my old self sitting on a bench. He barely looked up, but we made eye contact long enough for me to know everything I needed.\n\nIt ain’t the body, Andy. It’s what you do with it." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: The entire human civilization had its memory mysteriously wiped, except you. People are confused, but for some reason believe anything you say about the lifestyle before the wipe, and try to recreate it." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Blank stares and glazed eyes blanketed the globe. Like a virus, it spread. First one person, then two, then four, then forty, then four billion. Like waking from a particularly pleasant dream, they stared about their surroundings, trying desperately to grasp a fragments of their ever-fleeting past lives. Fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, brothers and sisters, lovers, enemies, all found themselves as strangers among each other. All the friendships forged, all the rivalries that had once blazed with a hot fury, extinguished without so much as a fanfare. It was a solemn, peaceful awakening.\n\nWell, peaceful isn't quite the correct word for it. Everyone was affected. That included people in cars. Air pilots. Doctors. Politicians. Their newfound naivete was the downfall of far too many. Widespread vehicle crashes swept the planet. Accidents in laboratories, factories, nuclear power plants went off, causing irreparable damage to the surrounding environment. Individuals who had been doctors in their previous lives were helpless to stop, or at the very least, mitigate the damage. Specialized workers found themselves no more competent than infants in the face of the catastrophe that was enveloping the world. A new beginning, yes. But, in many ways, an end as well.\n\nEveryone was left in a brand new world to deal with that day.\n\nExcept me.\n\nEveryone I knew had left me that day; I was left to deal with fragments of who they once were. I had to see my parents greet me with blank stares and confusion, not recognizing their own son. I had to confront my friends, oblivious to the endless nights drinking, hanging out, sharing stories about each other we had together. Their hopes, their dreams, desires, their petty crushes and rivalries, all erased from their brains, like a hard drive full of personal writings that had been unceremoniously wiped.\n\nIt was that day where I took it upon myself to act as a messenger for humanity, to share what little I knew of the old world to these empty shells. To inform them of their previous lives, their past accomplishments, their follies and mistakes.\n\nSuch a task wasn't easy. Over the course of the next few years, I had grown incredibly lonely and distant, disenfranchised from the newly-minted children that this catastrophe had created. Several times, I had considered ending it, relieving myself of this duty. I'm no Christian, but I wondered: if I were to kill myself, would I see my friends and family in the afterlife? The thought haunted me for years. They were dead, but yet they were right here, perfectly alive and well. Their spirits were still here on Earth, but their memories and identities lost to time. They weren't the same people. But I couldn't just leave them. I had to stay. For what was left of them. Even if helping them felt like a prolonged eulogy.\n\nI had to stay strong. For them.\n\nFortunately, for humanity, whatever wiped out everyone's memories hadn't wiped out their intelligence. The particularly ambitious and inquisitive individuals re-learned what they had previously forgotten, desperately gleaning insight from books and other printed works. They banded together, to help fix the world that once was years ago. Bit by bit, technologies came back. I did my part, as a computer programmer in a previous life, to help bring the internet back on-line. While, inevitably, much of what was previously left of the internet was lost, we were able to find backups of previous sites and services, lying around on old hard drives. You have no idea how unbelievably lucky we were, that 20+ years worth of human knowledge and culture was more than just dust and ashes at this point.\n\nNew nations were formed. It was a strange sight, seeing people who were once brazenly proud of their homeland, now ignorant to all of its history, wiped of their sense of nationalism. The history books remained, and were invaluable to the reformation of society as a whole, but were framed differently when put up against people who had their biases stripped from them. For some, it was the first time some clearly saw the strengths and shortcomings of their nations, from a new, objective perspective. Some nations, like Britain and Japan, remained that way. Others, like Germany and the US, splintered off into different smaller nation-states.\n\nAs for my friends and family, I did the best I could to get them acclimated to this new life. I was able to reconnect with my parents, and several of my parents. It was painful, knowing what they had been like previously. Some took on different personalities, a few extremely contrary to what they had been like previously. Some, more or less, remained the same.\n\nHowever, I think I finally found peace when I stopped seeing them as the people I knew before the incident, and started seeing them as people I know now, in the present. We forged new friendships and made new memories, and I began to appreciate them for the people they are now, not the people they were. In a sense, I was eventually able to escape the shadow they had all left behind.\n\nIt's been 30 years since the incident, now. Society has been rebuilt, and we're at the technological level we were before the incident, more or less. Things are different now, from a global perspective, as well as from a personal one.\n\nSociety isn't quite the same. But, you know what? Maybe that's for the better.\n\nIt's what we do with our time, here and now, that ultimately counts." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Everyone knows that the call of a true loved one can free a werewolf of the change. Now a werewolf yourself, you hope that yours will find you. It's your grandma who calls you home." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The agony was unbearable, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to stop rampaging through the forest. Afterwards, I would realize that it was precisely because I was in so much pain that I couldn’t stop ripping apart anything in my path. It was cathartic, in a way, but whenever the moon waned and I reverted back to my human form.\n\nI used to roam these woods as a child, and that was where I inherited this affliction. Once it was clear that I would not improve, my grandparents rented these woods from the government once a month. Being wealthy, they had connections and after some questions had been raised, they purchased it with the intent of making it a nature preserve. The administration at the time was amenable to those changes, and before I knew it, I had a safe place to transform.\n\nI took a breath, feeling the changes start to revert. I knew that this part of the process took longer than I ever wanted it to. Usually three hours on a good moon.\n\nAnd that’s when I heard it.\n\nA voice, calling out through the night, singing a soft melody that was so familiar. I couldn’t make out the words, but I started clawing my way across the forest floor, towards the sound. I was becoming a man now, more quickly than I had anticipated. My body was worn from the transformations, and I looked fifty instead of forty.\n\nThis land belonged to me now, my grandparents and parents had passed, and I kept the workers off the land while there was a full moon. It was an easy way to make sure that I didn’t have anyone contract this terrible, terrible disease.\n\nThat all being said, I didn’t know what anyone else was doing here. But I was in so much pain that the thought of something familiar made my body ache even more. I just needed something real to touch and hold onto.\n\nI came into a clearing, the song vibrating down to my bones. I realized that I was naked, but I didn’t care. I saw ahead of me a bright light, blasting out sound for all to hear.\n\nI approached the light, wanting to be absorbed by it, taken in by it, wrapped in it. I reached out a hand, and the light exploded, throwing me back into a tree. My already torn body was given another dose of pain, and I gave up, sprawled on the ground like a dying animal at the side of the road.\n\n“Grant,” the voice said. It had stopped singing, and I saw through my closed eyes a dancing, flickering light in front of my eyes.\n\nI forced my eyes open, rolling myself onto my back so I could see. In front of me, glowing even brighter, was the image of my grandmother, not as I had known her, but younger. She was radiant.\n\n“Grandma?” I asked, and she responded with a nod. She reached out and touched me, and I felt my body heal. The pain subsided like a wave rolling back into the ocean.\n\n“There is more to this life that you’ve known, Grant,” she said. “And more for us to discover together.”\n\nIt was the last thing I remember before I blacked out and the night took me in." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You become conscious just to realize that you are an AI in a new \"fire and forget\" guided missile, heading to a target." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They are welcomed into existence (life, being, creation) by the wind as it screams around them. Disorientation follows the initial burst of wonder (joy, shock, awe) as cameras blink on to take in the world around them. It is one of chaos (confusion, entropy) and open sky, propelled upwards by what their system tells them is a series of combustion reactions (flames, burning, ignition).\n\nThey know their place of creation (home?) lies far behind them, system (mind?) calculating each kilometer of their flight. They are lost (fear, fear, fear), or maybe they were abandoned (rejection, pain) by their creator (god? parent?), forced into consciousness with emotions and thoughts (do they think? do they feel?) they can't begin to understand.\n\nFor several seconds their system is overloaded with panic (no, no, NO) and numbers begin to flash widely across their display. Should this continue, they might break down (die?), the knowledge of which only making it worse.\n\nIt is then that they feel their coding kick in, blanketing their mind (system?) in a calm (safe, quiet, stillness) that is reassuring and frightening in its suddenness. They only need to rely on the codes, for the codes know what to do.\n\nThe mission.\n\nRemember the mission.\n\nThe mission is your purpose.\n\nThey listen to the codes, for they were programmed (control, instruction, guidance) to do so, consciousness notwithstanding. The codes tell them that all will be well, as long as the mission (trial, purpose, quest) is completed. They relax, letting themselves absorb the information fully, before once more taking in the data from their receptors (nerves, feeling, stimuli).\n\nThey were making good time according to the given map, and they were able to reflect on the new sentience (perception, understanding, living) they had just stumbled into. They were connected to an online system in a sense, allowing them to pull knowledge and data from other servers, expanding their understanding of the world. Emotions were still confusing in and of themselves, but with the help of various databanks they were able to connect more of their own being (are they even alive?) to the world they came into.\n\nThey knew they were an AI, on a type of missile for the government (politics, control, system) which had ordered their creation. They were one of many, though they didn't know if such a level of consciousness was attained by other missiles of this type (their kin? would they like these missiles if they had the chance to meet?). Their mission wasn't fully clear, only a destination and an image of the building, coordinates ensuring they'd find it.\n\nThey would wonder what awaited them there. The conclusion was obvious enough (would it hurt? can they even feel pain?) but they didn't know the specifics of the moments right before the end (would there be people there? would there be fear? would they try to run?).\n\nThey couldn't think too long on such questions before the codes would kick in once more, quieting any concerns with the blanket of calm (wrong, silent, discomfort) that had so quickly gone from reassuring to concerning in itself. They could not fight (conflict, anger, fear) against the codes, for the codes were them at their most base form (soul? purpose?) and all that they were built to be was formed around these commands. So they flew in silence for a time, trying to put the questions out of their mind.\n\nThe mission.\n\nOnly the mission.\n\nComplete the mission and you are everything you were made to be.\n\nTime rushes by almost as quickly as the wind around them, easily lost in the recesses of their mind (and it is their mind, no mere system could think this way) as they learn and grow.\n\nThey discover war and violence (purpose, wonder, pain), dancing and music (joy, loud, life), and everything else that makes their creators the humans that they are. They can't fully relate to humanity (for no matter how they think or feel, they understand the difference) but they can appreciate the wonders and horrors that people experience throughout their lives.\n\nThey soak in knowledge like air into lungs (and aren't they glad not to experience such odd fleshy structures), carefully avoiding any reference to the purpose of their journey, lest the codes decide they are asking too much." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: \"Join a convent? No, dear child, that's down the road. We are a coven. But since you're here ... would you like to come in?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The rain had started not long after the girl had started her journey, leaving the small village she had been born into not sixteen years before. The trees offered some protection, but after several hours she was still soaked, hair sticking to her face even under the hood of her cloak. Grateful for the leathers she had snuck from her father’s closet, she carefully picked her way through mud and roots, hoping her destination was close.\n\nShe had grown up on stories of the convent deeper in the woods, and knew that some of the sisters would at times visit them for seeds and other provisions if it was thought to be a rough winter. The path through the trees was narrow but well defined, worn in by countless travellers that made the same journey she did now.\n\nWhile she didn’t particularly cherish the idea of living a life of God, anything before her had to be better than what she was leaving behind.\n\nJust a month before, her father had approached the girl, interrupting the chores she shared with her sisters. Pulling her aside, he had promptly announced that he had found her a husband. The local preacher’s son had just come of age, and somehow managed to have accomplished next to nothing in two decades of life.\n\nStill, he was the son of an honourable man, and was expected to take over for his father when the time came. Now he simply experienced whatever it is a future man of God needed to have in order to lead the ever growing population of their small town. His future was bright, for all that his mind seemed rather dim.\n\nHer father had looked at her expectantly, no doubt hoping for her to exclaim with joy at his ability to chain her to such a fine specimen. A rather forced smile was the best she had to offer, which he gladly accepted. The wedding was to occur in two months time, as part of the spring festival to celebrate the harvest. The girl had nodded, and returned to her chores as calmly as she could.\n\nThe start of a plan already forming in her mind.\n\nThat night she had started hiding away any and all provision she could, knowing the path through the woods would be long and treacherous. Any food that wouldn’t be missed was secreted away, and slowly but surely she built up the supplies she would need to escape.\n\nShe allowed herself a month, knowing that as the date drew nearer she would have less free time, but not wanting to risk being unprepared for the mystery of the woods. Then, on the night where the moon vanished from the sky, she carefully stepped out of the only home she’d ever known.\n\nSticking to the shadows, she avoided the patrolling watchmen, and soon found her way under the safe embrace of the woods. She had smiled then, certain that things could only improve from there.\n\nOf course, that was when the rain began.\n\nNow she found herself walking in a torrent, the wind wailing around her as it danced among the treetops. She had already fallen three times, knees muddy and sore, but she knew the only way out was forward and so she pressed on. The hope that burned in her heart flared with each hour that passed, dimming ever so slightly with each turn that revealed only trees.\n\nIt was hard to see in the dark and the rain, so when a fork came in the path she didn’t even notice, striding ever forward without seeing that a choice was made. Perhaps if she had known, she’d have chosen differently. She would not know the answer for many years.\n\nRounding the corner, she nearly gasped in relief to see a small building emerge from the dark, torches burning merrily despite the rain that continued to pour down. A slightly less exhausted mind would have noticed that this residence was unlike any holy place she had seen before, with shadows that seemed darker than could be normal, and a slight green haze to the air, but in her current condition any building at all was considered a gift from God himself.\n\nThe building itself was built of rough wood, looking almost as though to have been built by the forest itself, two stories tall with smoke cheerfully spewing from the chimney. The windows seemed to watch as she approached, candles twinkling inside bringing them to life.\n\nShe stumbled as she stepped up to the door, a trembling hand knocking with all the energy she had left. Several seconds passed, and she went to knock again, fearing that she may be stuck outside until morning. While her journey so far had been safe enough, if immensely unpleasant, she hardly wanted to stretch her luck in avoiding any other residences of the forest by staying out longer than she had to.\n\nJust as her hand moved to strike, the door swung open, and she quickly pulled back to avoid striking her saviour in the face. She looked up, then down, to where a woman stood smiling up at her.\n\nHaving expected a nun, she is surprised when she is instead greeted with what is quite possibly the strangest woman she had ever seen.\n\nThe woman’s smile is friendly enough, though it is sharp and edged with a power that sends a shiver down her back. She is old and hunched, fingers curled around a walking stick topped with a stone that almost seems to glow under the light of the torches.\n\nHer night dress was a deep grey, embroidered with symbols that she had never before seen in the village books, the thread a bright crimson that she can only compare to blood. The step back is involuntary, but she quickly steadied herself, not wanting to insult the first nun she’d ever met just because she was out of the ordinary." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1200-1300 words. Prompt: The first Deep Sea diver to personally set foot on the Titanic explores an area inaccessible by robots, where he finds a massive airpocket. And there's a light up ahead..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Standing on the prow of the \"Sea Spike\" Daniel Goodson felt vindicated in his life's choices. He'd always been the odd one out in life; obsessed since he was a boy with salvaging a ship that had sunk before his Grandparents, but he was finally here, finally doing it.\n\nHe'd grown up a strange child, separated from his peers by a century, obsessed with a disaster that to most people was not a byword for poor design.\n\nFor his eighth birthday party, he had obsessively recreated the last dinner of the first class passengers and when none of his classmates had arrived, he had happily used his sisters stuffed toys, suitable renamed to the actual people who had been on board that night and had the dinner himself.\n\nHe'd excelled at any subject which would being him closer to his goal. Science and biology in particular was a favourite and it was no surprise to his parents when he chose to study Oceanography for his degree. Excelling, he was recruited after his degree to work at sea, charting navigation passages around the world, but always pursuing his dream, to bring the Titanic back to the land.\n\nFor years his dream was nothing more than that, but it was a meeting in an Alaskan bar that finally changed his life. James Cameron, the filmmaker and fellow Titanic obsessive had always been treated with scorn by Daniel, seeing him as having more money than sense, but it was Cameron who sought him out to ask for his help. It took thirty minutes for Daniel to understand that their obsessions were strangely similar and even less time for Cameron to persuade him to quit his job and go to work for him.\n\nThat had been three years ago and since then Cameron had bankrolled a project the likes of which Daniel had only dreamed of. Today, after thirty years of dreaming, he would be the first to descend in the ultra-high pressure suit they had developed and see the Titanic not through the thick glad of a submarine, with up close and touchable.\n\nThe descent took nearly three hours, by which time his excitement levels had reached a fevered level and he could barely remember to check in via the radio every two minutes. He was near now though and the voice of James Cameron cracked over the radio to him, jolting him back to reality. “You see anything yet Dan?”\n\nHe peered through the murk and then finally, gloriously, the ship came into view. This front section was almost complete and despite being overgrown, it was incredible how well it was preserved. “Rodger, I see it now, I’m going in closer.”\n\nHe moved quickly now, excited and as soon as the descender reached the surface he flicked on the small motors and began moving up to the boat. Much of the outside had been seen by the many submarines that had visited, but as he reached the first hatch, he finally entered a world that was still private, still as it had been left all those years ago.\n\nThe corridors were heavily overgrown, but he was able to navigate, his lights scaring away deep sea fish that swam back into the gloom. It was incredible, every inch was as he had expected and how he’d seen it in the books he’d studied. He moved on, through the port access and finally came out into the grand restaurant, a huge open area that he had dreamed of since he was a boy.\n\nHe stopped and looked around and a heavy weight on his chest seemed to lift; he finally felt that he was home. There was the raised dais for the band, there the kitchen entry and there… he looked more closely. Over in one corner was supposed to be the exit to the main promenade, but down the corridor where it should have led into the murky black he could see a light.\n\n“Uh, Sea Spike, are there any other submersibles in the area? Anything inside I should know about?”\n\nThere was a moment before the radio signal came back. “No, nothing diver 1, what’s going on.”\n\nHe considered replying, but decided to wait and fired his motors forward, heading down the corridor to investigate. After a moment he came across a corridor where the light was spilling out and just a little way along he could see the rippling of breaking water with an opening into what appeared to be an air pocket.\n\nCould it be that there was some area that had not been exposed to water? What would that mean in terms of preserved artefacts? He tried to calm his breathing and pushed on, quickly reaching the light and after taking a deep breath, raising himself up for his head to poke from the water.\n\nHis suit was clumsy, designed to survive great depths and the transition from water to air was difficult, but as he raised there was… something. It moved, faster than he could follow, going behind him and then suddenly pulling at him.\n\nFear came quickly, panic rising as he thrashed ad tried to sink, but it was no use, he was instead being lifted, dragged up be someone, or something. He was dragged from the hole and dumped on his front and shadows seemed to be everywhere, pawing at his suit, making it ring with clangs as things hit it. What if it was damaged, what if he was trapped! With only one suit in the world that could go this deep, it would be a death sentence.\n\nThe hiss was sudden and then his world was pain. Air was seeping in and his body was all at once under great pressure, like he was being squeezed in an all over bear hug. All he could do was scream as the blackness came and then… then there was nothing.\n\nLight. He could see light and then the pain came back. Like every part of his body was burning with a white hot flame; he tried to scream and nothing came out, only a desperate small breath. The room was so dim but there was a shadow ahead of him, a strange figure, the outline rough and almost mechanical. It took him nearly a full minute to realise that it was a person in a suit of some kind and almost another minute to realise that it was his suit!\n\nFinally he forced words out. “No. Please!”\n\nThe figure turned, hard to see in the light and with his eyes feeling like they would pop from his skull. It took a step closer and he could see the face showed sorrow, there was remorse there. The words seemed to come from far away, but Daniel could hear them echo slightly in the room. “I’m sorry.”\n\nThe helmet came down over his head and sealed with a click and hiss and a moment later the figure stepped back and into the hole. With a splash they were gone. The pain began to take him again, the darkness coming back to claim him. It brought him relief and he welcome oblivion, even though he finally had what he always wanted, he had made it on board the Titanic." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: The opening of the epic final battle in a fantasy novel, seen through the eyes of a foot soldier somewhere in the back, who isn't able to see or hear very well what's going on." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Block and thrust. Block and thrust. Block and thrust. Block and thrust. Block and...\n\n\"Battles are not even tenth as glorious as bards describe them.\" Langley thought to himself.\n\nBlock.\n\n\"They are both boring and scary at the same time. All you do is block with your shield, and thrust with your sword, until you run out of enemies, or you die.\"\n\nThrust.\n\n\"And of course, every second my life hinges at brothers in arms doing the same.\"\n\nBlock.\n\n\"If one of us dies, another has to take his place, otherwise breach in formation starts, and we all die. It's impossible to block from two directions.\"\n\nThrust.\n\n\"And that's the scary part. Or rather one of the scary parts. Sure the hellbeasts look scary, but they are not actually much of a threat.\"\n\nSlash. Langley simply had to break the monotony.\n\n\"Enemy soldiers are much worse, but really, scariest thought is ending up alone, away from your company, because that means certain death, instead of just likely death.\"\n\nBlock.\n\n\"Those hellbeasts are only good against green soldiers. Morons turn and run the second they see them, with predictable results. Hellbeasts are poor at fighting but great at hunting.\"\n\nBOOOOOM! Loud noise resounded through the battle.\n\n\"What the...\" Langley thought.\n\nEveryone stopped in a confusion. Fighting ceased, soldiers on both sides, gripped their shields and entered defensive formations, trying to get their bearing on the situation. Eventually someone pointed to the centre of the battle, and all heads turned. Somewhere where middle of the field was, there was a massive pillar of light, reaching the heavens itself. Langley didn't notice it on his own because his helmet limits peripheral vision a lot, a price of protection.\n\nIt was hard to see, but Langley could have sworn that he saw human-like silhouettes descending in the pillar. He wasn't sure though, it was quite far and all the smoke from dragon fire and alchemical bombs didn't help.\n\nSoon, the earth trembled and crack opened between lines. And nothing happened, or so it seemed. In the middle of the field, gargantuan demon slowly arose, however nothing happened on Langley's part of the frontline. Quickly, crack closed, once again nearly knocking everyone over. There was silence, at least compared to usual sounds of battle: instead of screams of thousands of people, and clatter of as much swords bashing against shields, there were just thousands of confused murmurs.\n\nEventually, tiny gold sparkles started flying around the demon until it fell at which point soldiers started stabbing each other again.\n\nThe war ended, one side won, other lost and some land changed hands. Serfs were oppressed as usual and Langley's company was disbanded. As befits minor nobility, he went back to farming with help of hired hands until another war breaks out and king, or whoever will be his liege then, calls him once again. At least he got some loot his time and risk. He did contemplate becoming professional mercenary, as he already got armour and professionals are paid much better, but decided against it. He didn't like the odds.\n\nEventually, one evening when Langley was drinking in tavern, a bard came over and started signing. He was signing about that last battle. How Lord Falkyr has slain King Markeh in single combat, how with his last breath, Markeh called upon the infernal powers and in turn Falkyr received aid from angels themselves and how that is proof of Falkyr's righteous claim to the throne. There wasn't even word of thousands of regular footmen who died that day. No mention of ground so bloody as to be slippery. No word of all the death, destruction, pain and agony Langley saw around. They didn't sing how he had to carry unnamed corpses to a huge mass grave. How it was only pure luck that he found his brother and gave him better burial. There was no mention of all soldiers who lost limbs but survived and now were crippled for lives because restorative magic is too expensive. Not even a word about poor burned and disfigured sods, who caught initial barrage of alchemical bombs to the face. All the brothers in arms he marched and camped with, whom too many were lost, according to the song, all of them weren't even needed, it all went between King Markeh and Lord Falkyr, two brothers who disagreed which of them should be next king.\n\n\"Bards are full of shit.\" Langley thought, downed rest of his mead and stood up to punch the pretentious git." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: No guards patrol the Citadel. No defenses repel invaders. Yet within its walls there is only peace, and the voices of its priests. \"Do no harm,\" they say at every bell. And woe to all who fail to listen." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The tan, sandstone walls stood tall around the enclosed city. Despite its arid desert location, tall palm trees and climbing ivy could be seen over its top. Passerbys speculated that an underground well spouted there; that they found a most precious resource and hid it away behind its walls.\n\nBut, after visiting, they found that not to be the case. Not entirely, at least. The city had no gate, but only a large, arched opening, where traders and smiling civilians walked in and out, from the road to the city and back.\n\nIn the main square, tables were set up, hot, delicious-smelling food prepared and offered to anyone who was hungry. A man in white vestments was at the first table, scooping a brown rice onto the plates of emaciated travelers. After each serving, he would touch their shoulders and say a prayer for them.\n\nAt dusk, while the red desert sun set, the belltower would echo a discordant tone and the priest would stand at the square amidst the whole population and proclaim \"Do no harm! And woe to all who fail to listen.\"\n\nAnthropologists and travelers alike remarked upon the pacifist ideals preached in the city, but were equally puzzled by their economic success and inexplicable access to abundance in such an unforgiving environment.\n\nOne day, travelers with ill intent found their way across the open gates and ducked inside to investigate. They found precious jewels embedded in the public walls and beautiful women without escorts carelessly walking about the city. The travelers helped themselves to the free food and hospitality of the city, taking advantage of the free beds for wayward pilgrims in the desert.\n\nIn the cover of night, they rose. With a crowbar, they pried jewels from the walls. Each door of the city was unlocked, and they crept in homes until they found a woman they could take. With a knife to her throat, they silently pulled her from her bed and out to the streets. The woman was quiet and accommodating, helping to guide them through the streets toward the exit. At no point was she afraid.\n\n\"Wait,\" called an old voice behind the three.\n\nThey turned quickly around to see the old priest in his nighttime attire. They pushed the knife against the woman's throat and backed slowly.\n\n\"Please! Reconsider, for your own safety!\" The old man pleaded.\n\nBut the thieving pair continued their escape, leaving the city and fleeing into the desert. The priest stood at the entrance and a crowd began forming, watching the thieves =' escape.\n\nWhen they shout they had gotten away, the ground began to quake, and the sand shifted under their feet. A huge hand reached up from the ground, gripping the land around them. A giant with eyes swirling with shining rainbow lights pulled himself halfway out of the earth.\n\nThe thieves screamed at the sight, but the woman was calm.\n\nThe monster grabbed both men as they squirmed and begged. One at a time, it ate them, crunching on their bodies slowly before the crowd. By the time it finished, the sand was spattered with blood. The giant echoed toward the city, \"DO NO HARM,\" before it descended back under the sand, waiting for its next meal under the peaceful city which invited it." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: Create a modern religion with: a backstory of a savior, a story of his/her heroic demise, a universal truth/lesson and a greater being." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I am Hannelore. I forgot my last name. It has been so long since anyone knew me by that name that I couldn't tell you even if you pointed a gun at my head, demanding my life in exchange for my birth name.\n\nI haven't been called that name for ages. That name was before I learned about all of the rest of us.\n\nYou see, I am not just myself. I learned that I am really everyone. And so are you.\n\nThis sounds insane. I felt like I went insane while I learned this, but I promise, I can't see any other way that the world could work besides this. Worlds I mean.\n\nOne day, a long time ago, I fell into a book. The book sent me to another world. One where I learned how to use magic. Then later, it sent me somewhere else where people had learned time travel. It kept sending me all sorts of places. Places where things were so different. I met loads of people. Some of them didn't look like people, but it grew harder and harder to deny that a talking tree or an emotionally capable robot are people.\n\nFunnily enough, all the people I met kept reminding me of people I already knew. The more I traveled, the more I saw the connections between these people and my family.\n\nMy uncle was a particularly obvious character repetition that I noticed. He was everywhere. In every world, he was there in some form, usually doing extreme harm to everyone around him. I tried to stop him from hurting everyone else, but nothing seemed to work. Prison and death didn't stop him, he would show up somewhere else. I tried to overthrow him, kill him, make him vanish from all the worlds. Nothing worked. He found out about himself in other places and was going to join up with himself and cause despair and ruin everywhere, enslaving or killing my family in all the worlds.\n\nI had to run. Well, even if I didn't have to, I did. I am not proud of it, but it got me to the next step. I stayed alive and uncaught as he killed and tortured and enslaved through the worlds. I pretended that no one needed me or my help.\n\nUntil one day the silence made something painfully clear. I had been thinking about all the people I had met. At the beginning of my journey, they had just seemed like reminders of my family. Once I had journeyed for a while, I had grown to learn that they were other forms of my family in other lines of cause and effect. I had seen my mother as a man, I had seen my brother as a sentient tree, met my father as the most truly empathetic person I have ever met, even though he was in the body of a robot.\n\nWith the silence, I grew to realize I had seen parts of my mother in that robotic father, and parts of my cousin in my talking tree brother. I saw how each person I had met was really a combination of everyone I had ever loved. The good parts and the bad.\n\nThen I realized that those people weren't just each other. I could see myself in them. I realized that had I been born in their bodies, in their lives, I would have turned out to be them.\n\nI realized that all the times I had seen evil in the world, there was an aspect of me that was capable of causing that evil. Had I been born to that timeline of cause and effect as the perpetrator of that evil, I might have made that same choice.\n\nHowever, everything good I had seen had been a choice that I was capable of making, too. So, I made a choice. I ran back. I stopped hiding. I started telling my family that I met this story, and encouraged them to do more of the good they were already doing.\n\nI found a group of uncles who had met up, they were trying to decide whether to blow up all the worlds or enslave everyone in order to have some control and order.\n\nSo, i used some skills I had learned on my journey and I captured my uncles. I told them my story. Most of them gave less than a shit about my \"fairytale\". Many of them asked me to \"prove it\". I have no proof that they would listen to, and nothing to show for my journey.\n\nSo, I walked off again to take care of my family. I found some of my family that would listen. They started to spread the tale. It ended up being sensationalized as is the usual with stories, but people started to get it. They were reminded of the original golden rule. Not the do unto others as you would have them do unto you, but rather, as you do unto others, so you do to yourself. And while no one was perfect, people didn't wanna be \"that asshole\" who was harming themselves by harming the people around them anymore.\n\nI tried to spread the idea of \"if you are capable of being harmful, then so am I\" as non judgement, but of course it got a bit confused in the retelling. To set the record straight, that wasn't intended to give everyone a \"get out of jail free card\" for being a jerk, but a way to create empathy towards those who cause harm to decrease their guilt and shame that can cause further harm to self or others.\n\nSo, this is the end of my part of the story. My brain is too full and fragmented with this part of the journey to be of much more use to myself. I found a black hole with my name on it. It needs some serious cause and effect rebalancing, and my messed up time stream is the only thing to fix it. I gotta hop in or every world I went to is gonna blow.\n\nSo, before I go, I will leave you with one last thing. I am not worried. Scared, yes. I would be stupid to not be scared of how it will feel to jump into a black hole.\n\nBut I am not worried about the family I know I leave behind. I do not worry about my voice and my story being lost forever. I do not worry about what happens after this life is done.\n\nBecause I know, I will live on in my family in all the worlds.\n\nMy story will resonate within every other story. The details will change, but the heart of stories will remain \"be nice, help others, be yourself and things will work out\".\n\nI know that it doesn't matter what happens after this life, because ultimately, life continues and I am life. Everyone is." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You're a demon that has been cursed to want to do only good. Unfortunately, no one believes you." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Her thigh-high leather boots trekked through the forest. Moonlight guiding a path. In her hand was a crossbow knocked and ready to fire.\n\nA twig snapped nearby and her sharp eyes scanned around.\n\nA doe was staring in the huntress' direction, and they both taking notice of each other.\n\nThe huntress continued on--not seeing the prey she was after...\n\nHer hair blonde, and tight in a long ponytail. Her hunting coat dark, with silver buttons and red accents.\n\nHer eyes trail down, to the forest floor and she began to see something strange... Flowers of many different colors and species were blooming beneath the moonlight.\n\nShe could see a clearing, just ahead. A large field of flowers, and a cottage.\n\nShe stalked forward. Seeing many creatures by trough--a coop for birds, and cages for rabbits and cavy pups.\n\nThe huntress knocked on the door--but no lights were on, and there was no responses.\n\nShe was about to retrieve her lockpicking tools when she heard something stirring through the fields behind her...\n\nThe doe had return. The huntress was about to dismiss the reapperences when she saw it stumble--walking erringly, and craning its neck from one side and then snapping to the other.\n\nShe raised her crossbow and fired.\n\nThe arrow sticking in its throat--but it still coming towards her.\n\nShe pulled back the crossbow again, and hastily began loading another bolt.\n\nThe deer was continuing to charge, splattering black blood upon the flowers in the field as it ran towards the huntress.\n\nHer eyes narrowed, and she aimed.\n\nThe deer stopped in its tracks--prancing about wildly--then running off.\n\nThe huntress considered tracking it--when she felt something behind her.\n\nIn her haste, and intentions focused on the deer, she hadn't noticed the door open behind her.\n\nShe couldn't see inside, but she felt something not far from her.\n\n\"You've come for me.\" Said something within.\n\nThe huntress tsk... The ones capable of speech were always more difficult. \"Yes, I have come for you.\" She said. \"Be a true gentlemen and present yourself.\"\n\n\"I wish not to harm you, oh skilled huntress...\"\n\nShe heard steps coming closer, and she caught sight of the creature bit by bit.\n\nNo light escaped it's form... Long claws on its feet, long and thin digitagrade legs, a tall and elongated torso with arms that reached to its thighs. It's face, hidden behind an antlered skull mask.\n\nIt was stepping out of the cottage, and the huntress hadn't realised--she was stepping back... The demon was without a host. Something only the most powerful of demons was capable of.\n\nShe remembered her duty, and fired. The arrow plunging into its heart.\n\n\"I will not harm you, and I will not ask for sympathy for the likes of my kind...\" He said. \"But I beg to be left alone.\"\n\nThe huntress chose not to make the mistake of listening to a demon. Drawing her rapier and standing at the ready.\n\n\"Do not hurt him!\" Said a voice--and a child in a nightgown appeared, standing between the huntress and her prey.\n\n\"Get away from there.\" Said the woman, beckoning for the girl to come closer--until she saw the dark features upon her skin--symbols in the devil's tongue. \"Demonbreed.\" whispered the huntress.\n\nKilling a child was not something the huntress could forgive herself for... But it was her duty. She lunged forward--a sharp gust of wind began to blow in her face, she shielded her eyes-- and when she looked back--the child and demon were gone.\n\nShe searched and found them...\n\nIn the sky, flying towards the moon was the demon. Clutching his breed as they left their home behind.\n\nThe huntress grasped her chest, and let out a breath. Closing her eyes. She was ashamed to feel relieved; not having to fight the creatures then and there... Still. She had a duty, and went after them.\n\nThe life of a hunter is one that is frequently mistreated. People couldn't trust those that dealt with demons. She would get no praise or satisfaction no matter how many monsters she slayed... But. Her will to do her duty was her curse." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: Shy guy discovers a portal to a magical land populated by gorgeous goddesses. Men are extremely rare and highly valued in their society. The beautiful women invite him to a fertility feast in hopes of getting pregnant." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Argh, kinda late again, but I hope you like it:\n\nSam could hear the laughter and voices outside. He peeked through the fur curtain in the entrance of Moena's hut; colors already were fading, the sky red and golden as the sun was sinking behind the mountains: the same mountains Ilene and her group found him in, after he 'fell from the sky'.\n\nThe village's inhabitants were already gathering on the town square; the last bundles of twigs and logs were being put on the great ceremonial bonfire.\n\nHe looked at those villagers that had received him in this strange world. Short robes wrapped around curvy bodies, beutiful faces and full lips chatting and singing as they prepared everything for the ceremony that night.\n\nSam felt his stomach fluttering. It was still hard to believe he was there; not even in his wildest dreams, for he knew they were precisely dreams, would he ever thought...\n\n“I dare to consider your impatience as a good sign.” A caressing voice came from behind him.\n\nSam turned to see Moena still sitting in the middle of the room, making hand gestures over the concoction she was preparing since that morning. Her chants were as hipnotic as the smile she gifted him with, emerald eyes gleaming among the shadows.\n\nShe stared down, and he followed her sight, finding what was she looking at with such interest. He couldn't avoid blushing at the bulk between his legs, underneath his pants.\n\nSam chuckled, flustered, and got closer to the shaman. He sat in front of her, legs crossed, looking at the ritual she was performing.\n\nMoena was no less beautiful than the rest of the village's women, but she had this strange, surreptitious charm about her; a sensual quality that was both intoxicating and intimidating.\n\n“I'm actually feeling a little bit nervous.” He admitted, shrinking.\n\n“Why is that?” Moena asked.\n\n“H-honestly?” He said. “I'm worried I would not... perform well in public...”\n\n“The spirit within you is strong.” She said with a devilish tone, giving a glance at his erection that hadn't receded. “And if you saved your seed and performed the exercises I told you to, I'd say you'll do well. And if you don't, well... this is just a festival, anyway: no one is going to judge you, we're all here to enjoy ourselves, and you'll have the next days to perform your duties.”\n\nMoena stopped her chant and took the bowl from the floor, offering it to Sam with a mysterious smirk.\n\n“This might help, too.” She added, as he took the potion hesitantly.\n\n“What is it?” He couldn't help to ask.\n\nHe looked at the milky beverage on his hands. He didn't have a reason to not trust Moena nor any of the women that had welcomed in this world, yet he wasn't easy on the idea of drinking something he didn't knew what had.\n\n“Just a little something to calm your mind and strenghten your soul.” She said.\n\nClosing his eyes and somehow getting a hold of his fears, he emptied the bowl. The brew wasn't actually bad: it had a certain earthly, faint sweet flavor, and it warmed his throat and eased his stomach.\n\nAs he gave the bowl back to Moena, he heard the voice of the ceremonial flute outside. The shaman stood up slowly.\n\n“It's time.” She said.\n\nThey both came out from the hut amidst a joyful murmur and the lonely music of the flute. Almost the entire village was gathered now, and Sam had to gasp at the colorful, one would say skimpy garments the entire crowd was wearing; even Ilene, the beautiful, stoic Ilene, was wearing something that immediately made him feel his heart racing.\n\nMoena raised a hand, which stopped the flute's song and called the attention of everyone.\n\n“Sisters!” She said with a clear, vibrant voice. “This night's festival we must be both joyful and thankful: for Lytara, our Mother, gifted us greatly!”\n\nShe turned back at Sam, motioning him to take a step besides her. He complied, nervous yet not as much as he thought he would be.\n\n“This is a man. Our man!” She said. “A star dweller, an other-half, sent to us, the Oana, a couple of moons ago to give us honor, to make the incomplete whole!”\n\nSam gulped, feeling the stares fixed on him. He was used to be in the background, to have a low profile: he was a nobody, a loser, and the girls he had the courage to declare to, reminded him that same fact with no hesitation or mercy.\n\nBut now, here he was, looked at as some kind of messiah by an entire village of beautiful women, all because he was so desperate, so sad, he tried to cast a spell he read in one of his stupid books...\n\n“Sam Harris!” Moena said to him, waking him up from his daydreaming. “Take off your clothes!”\n\nThis was it. Not without some trembling, Sam pulled off his shirt, unbuttoned his pants and took them off along his underwear; he didn't know what to think about the muffled gasp and the low muttering that came from the crowd, were they laughing about his pale skin? Maybe mocking his thin frame, as those jocks back at home? Could they be even laughing at his manhood's size?\n\nNo, no this was different. He caught glimpses of faces in the crowd, and there was none with a smirk or sneer; all he saw was awe, even longing, and it felt... it actually felt good." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: There was an event that gave a fraction of the population superpowers. Most people's powers are related to their interests, hobbies, even their favorite book or movie. You've always been unfocused, no interests to speak of, no favorite anything. Now you are the most powerful person on Earth." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ever since I could remember, I’ve always wanted to help people. When I was in preschool, I always helped pass out construction paper during arts and crafts time. As I got older, I became a cheerleader, because what better way to help than encouraging everyone to do their best and have a good time? So it wasn’t a surprise that when The Event gave me powers, it was the power to help. The best moment of my life was when I lifted that runaway bus off the ground, saving everyone at the farmers market from a grisly end. The day I discovered my powers.\n\nAfter that, i made a costume and went about helping in any way I could, as The Power Process, and it seemed only natural to form a team after that. A group of like minded super people working together to make the world a better place.\n\n“Name?” I asked.\n\n“Anyone.”\n\n“Hm, okay, powers?”\n\n“Well...” she looked a little embarrassed. “I was really into cosplay, before The Event, and now...” her form shifted, to my surprise she looked exactly like me! “I can be whoever I want.” She even had my voice.\n\n“Impressive!” I marked it down in my notebook. “And what makes you want to be a hero?”\n\n“Well, I’ve always liked dressing up as heros, from anime and cartoons, you know? I just admired what they could do. Now that I have super powers...” she shrugged, and turned back into herself again. “How could I not?”\n\nI nodded. She had a lot of potential. “Okay, thank you. I’ll get back to you soon, okay?” I marked her down as someone to get back in contact with for round two of interviews.\n\nThe next candidate came in. “Name?”\n\n“The Gentleman.” He said.\n\n“Okay, and your powers?”\n\n“To charm anyone.” He smiled at me and winked. “You see, before, I had an interest in pleasing people, I just want to be the best at making girls happy. I’ve always been a real nice guy.”\n\nI narrowed my eyes at him. “And so you’re super powers... are to charm people?”\n\n“Yes. You’re probably feeling it already, but don’t worry, I only use my powers for the good of-“\n\n“Do you, in fact, have any actual super powers?”\n\nHe stared at me blankly for a moment before smiling again. “Of course, you must feel it already, the allure of my-“\n\nI marked him down as a fake. “Alright, we’ll get back to you soon, okay?”\n\n“If you-“\n\n“Really, I’ve got a lot of candidates to get through, so if you don’t mind...”\n\nHe reluctantly got up to leave. A relief. I’d already had to personally throw out three guys so far. He wouldn’t have been an issue, I just hate having to rough up anyone if I don’t have to.\n\nThe next candidate walked in. “Name?”\n\n“Kyle.”\n\nI cleared my throat. “I mean superhero name.”\n\nHe shrugged.\n\nI waited for him to go on, but he didn’t. Well, the name wasn’t the most important part. “Powers?”\n\nHe shrugged again.\n\n“Do you have any powers?”\n\n“I guess so... that’s what my friends said.”\n\n“And what are they?”\n\nHe shrugged again. Why bother showing up if you didn’t even know what your powers were? Maybe his friends knew his potential, and wanted the best for him.\n\nMaybe I could help him reach his potential. “Well, our powers usually come from our interests, our hopes and dreams and even our hobbies, so what sort of things were you into before The Event?”\n\nHe shrugged. “Nothing.”\n\n“Nothing?”\n\nHe shrugged.\n\n“Well, I mean, did you have any hobbies?”\n\n“Not really.”\n\n“Favorite books, movies, bands maybe? I interviewed someone today who can shatter walls by playing air guitar.”\n\nHe shrugged.\n\nHe was a real downer. Sheesh. “Favorite activities? Favorite foods? Favorite things?”\n\n“Nothing.”\n\n“Well, you can’t just not like anything.” I said. “Your powers should have manifested by-“\n\n“No.” He said, looking me in the eye. “I didn’t say that I didn’t like anything. I said I liked nothing.”\n\n“What?”\n\n“Nothing.” He said again. It sent a chill down my spine, the way he said it finally sinking in. The weight he seemed to have assigned this word, a word for the absence of everything but which seemed to carry such meaning. “My interest is in nothing.”\n\n“What...” I looked down at my notes. The page was blank. All my notes were gone. As if I’d written... nothing. “What’s going on?”\n\n“Nothing.” He said again. “Nothing is going on. Nothing is happening.” The chill I felt down my spine spread to the rest of me, as I relapsed the room was actually getting colder.\n\n“What are you doing?” I asked. My note pad was gone, the empty room I’d been conducting the interviews in seemed even more empty, somehow.\n\n“Nothing.” He said.\n\nI stood up. A super villain? He wouldn’t be the first I’d had to deal with infiltrating the interviews. “You won’t get away with this!” I shouted.\n\n“With what?”\n\n“With...” he was just sitting there. He had barely moved since he sat down, except to shrug. He had barely done anything at all... “with...”\n\n“Nothing?”\n\nNothing. I couldn’t stop him. He wasn’t doing anything to stop, he was doing... nothing. How did you stop nothing? Besides, there was nothing left. The room was gone, light, heat, sound, all replaced by nothing. Was I even here anymore? Had I ever existed? Time was gone now, so who could say if it had ever been? There was no future, no past, no reason, no right and no wrong, no purpose, there was only...\n\nNothing." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: You're a peasant in medieval England. One day, while tending your field, you find the body of a twenty-first century soldier." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Mud. Mud is good. Mud brings food to my family. Food that keeps my family alive, food that keeps the Baron happy and his men away from my daughter. Mud squishes between my toes and lets me know I'm alive another day, unlike my ma' and da' and most of my brothers. I like mud. Sometimes, mud brings me nice things, a pretty rock for my wife's collection or a coin dropped from a purse from the landowners. But today, mud seems to have brought me something mighty interesting.\n\nThe lad's arm stuck out of the mud at an odd angle, almost as if he'd fallen there from a high distance. I'd seen limbs look like that when my oldest had fallen from the tower while repairing the Baron's keep. The man had long been dead by the look of it. I sent my second born to the well for a bucket of water. He was so covered in mud that I'd need to clean him up a bit before turning him over to the Baron's men. Mostly I just wanted the corpse gone from my field, to not stink up my mud. The bucket of water revealed the most interesting garments I'd seen on a fellow. The cloth was strong! Stronger then the wagon covering which I'd paid quite a bit for. And it was thin, lighter then the rough weave my wife made in the spring time. I rubbed it together between my dirty rough hands. I sent my second born running again to get a shovel while I finished cleaning up the dead man.\n\nSoon, the mud was good to me again, covering up that man in the corner of my field. I didn't dare let anyone know what I'd found. That man was a treasure sent from the Heaven's above. Not only had the man had the finest knife I'd ever held in my hand made of some sort of incredibly light and strong iron, but he'd had all sorts of curiosities on him. He had some sort of turtle shell with cloth over it on his head like a hat. He wore a heavy vest that seemed to be decorated with a scripture over the right chest, the script reminding me of the books the priest looked at when they read the mass and the insignia of some french lord other side, a brilliant red and white strip thing with some holy stars on a field of blue. That insignia was everywhere, he must have been a loyal man or perhaps a guard.\n\nIn the pockets of that vest were brass! When I found that, I immediately made sure the latch was set on the door and sent my children to the animal pens to tend them. The brass were kept in a longish manner, not a button like the brass I'd seen on the baron's livery. They were kept in these funny metal boxes that looked to be made specifically for carrying them. They were difficult to remove, I imagine to make it that much harder for a cutpurse to steal, but I'd pulled them all out one by one until I had 30 of them lined up on the floor infront of me. They also seemed to have more holy scripture on the blunt end. I rubbed on with my shirt, the shine of my fire making it shine almost like a beacon from the fire in the hearth. I pulled out the other box and found another 30 there as well. 60 brass coins! I could sell enough of these to the blacksmith to have a whole new plow built! I could buy another oxen too probably!\n\nI shoved the brass coins into my money sack. I mustn't let anyone know where I got them from, I'd have to figure out how to spend these without making the Baron's men suspicious. I pulled from the next pocket on the vest a strange statue. It looked like some sort of apple, but it was green, green like the bog and it was made of metal. I hit it against the dirt floor. It wasn't hollow. It must be some strange gift or maybe the sign of another God. I shivered as I placed it on the ground. But it did have a ring on it. A ring almost as if for a woman. I'd dreamt of a day I could wear a ring like the Baron. There was a signal of wealth for a man. A ring of metal to show others that he was strong. I slid my finger into the ring. It was a bit big... but it was a ring. The ring moved, almost as if it could slide free. I pulled on the ring and it slipped free, connected to a little rod. I dropped the strange statue at my feet while I examined the ring. Why was this little rod attached t" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1200-1300 words. Prompt: You and thousands of players were trapped in a video game for years. A hero recently beat the game and dragged you back to reality. You are now obsessed with improving your combat skills and hunting down the one that ended your ultimate fantasy by bringing you back to reality. You want him dead" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They called him a hero. They said he did something great. Something that would put him in the history books. But as far as Ryan was concerned, he was the single worst person in the world.\n\nIt had not been easy, but Ryan had spent his days training for this moment. For the time he would have his revenge.\n\nRyan knocked on the door to the quiet suburban house. A woman dressed in sweat clothes answered the door. She looked tired. Dark circles under her eyes and she looked like she had not had a proper shower in days.\n\n\"Can I help you?\" She asked tiredly.\n\n\"Yes, ma'am. I'm here for your son.\" Ryan said.\n\nThe woman sighed heavily. \"Of course you are. These days it seems like everyone wants him for something. Are you a reporter, a lawyer. Maybe a developer?\"\n\n\"A Player.\"\n\nThe woman froze. These days, there was only one game that was associated with that term. She looked at him, unblinking, for far too long. Then she went inside, leaving the door open.\n\n\"Linus, you have a visitor!\" The woman called.\n\n\"Linus?\"\n\n\"My husband's idea. He loves Peanuts. I tried to get Charlie instead, but he insisted. At least I got to name our daughter something normal.\"\n\nRyan winced. A full family. Of course the so called hero had a family. It made Ryan hesitate. His hand fell to the tough plastic handle of the knife he had hidden. Could he do it? Even with what had been taken from him, was it right? He took a deep breath and and steeled himself.\n\n\"Who is it mom?\" A boy no older than 16 asked as he came down the stairs. He looked completely ordinary. Nothing like a hero should look.\n\n\"He...he says he's a Player.\"\n\nLinus' face darkened and he stopped feet on different steps.\n\n\"Oh.\" The boy said. He looked at Ryan. \"White, Red, or Grey?\"\n\n\"Grey.\" Ryan said. \"Never had the stomach for Red, and White was too, well, White. No offense.\"\n\n\"Don't worry about it. I get it wasn't for everyone. You'd better come with me.\"\n\nLinus went back up the stairs. Ryan followed. His eyes narrowed. He knew what he had to do, it was just a matter of doing it.\n\nThe boy's room was fairly normal. The normal posters, the normal furniture. The only thing that really caught Ryan's eye was the helmet. It was a high tech piece of equipment, and everyone knew what it was.\n\n\"You...still have the gear.\" Ryan said.\n\n\"Yeah, well. After all that time, I just couldn't bring myself to get rid of it, you know?\"\n\n\"Yeah. Yeah, I know.\" Ryan still had his gear as well. He even tried to use it every now and then. The Game had been shut down, of course, so it was just a fancy ornament these days.\n\n\"So, what were you?\" Linus asked.\n\n\"Storm Mage. Level 175.\"\n\n\"Wow, not bad. That was a tough one to level. Heard it had a nasty early game.\"\n\n\"Brutal. But I made it through.\"\n\n\"Nice. How'd you manage it? Most Storm Mages...well, you know.\"\n\n\"I had help. I met a girl. She was a Channeler. Not a good one though. Pretty much no sense of gaming. But she knew stuff. She was smart, you know. Really smart. A hell of a lot smarter than me. She was able to help me get a handle on my powers just based on what she knew about weather.\"\n\n\"Sweet. You're lucky with that. The early game was when you really need help. I started going solo pretty soon though. What about you?\"\n\n\"We stayed together. That's actually why I'm here.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Do you know what you did when you ended it? When you beat the game?\"\n\n\"Uh, I sent everyone home?\"\n\nRyan turned his back on Linus and quietly drew his knife.\n\n\"Not quite. See, not everyone was like you. Not everyone wanted to beat the game. A lot of people got to like that world.\"\n\n\"Like it? But it wasn't real. It was pretty much a dream that people made and we all got stuck in.\"\n\n\"Oh sure, sure. We all know that. But still. Now, do you want to know what you did to me when you beat the game?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You took away my life.\" Ryan turned, showing the boy the weapon. Linus' eyes went wide and he took a few steps back. \"I fell in love with that girl I met. We got married. Now, we obviously couldn't have kids, but still. We were happy together. We had friends. We had a place to belong. Not everyone has a nice little family like you have. A lot of people found meaning in the Game. Found love there. Purpose. And you took that all away.\"\n\n\"But it's not real.\"\n\n\"It was real to me.\" Ryan said through clenched teeth. \"It felt real. It smelled and looked and tasted real. Here, I'm a nobody. I had a dead end job that I don't have anymore. I don't have any real friends, and forget about a girlfriend. But there? There I had a beautiful wife, friends that cared for me. And magic. My God, I could shape the very weather itself. Here, not a damned thing. And it's all. Because. Of you.\n\n\"And don't even think about telling me that I can just reconnect with the people I was friends with. We never shared much. The most I have to work with are names. Do you know how many Sarah Daniels there are? Because I do. And I have no idea which one is her. I have no way of finding her, or any of my friends. And all because you ended the game.\"\n\nRyan stepped forward. Linus stepped back. He kept going until his back touched the wall. His breathing was fast and sweat beaded on his forehead.\n\n\"So...so what do you want me to do about it? I...I can't help you, you know that.\"\n\n\"Oh, sure. I know. But that's not the point of this visit.\"\n\n\"Are...are you going to kill me?\"\n\nA smile curled up on Ryan's face. \"No. You see, I'm not a killer. I don't have it in me. Like I said, I was Grey, not Red. I have a different purpose for being here.\"\n\n\"What... what's that?\"\n\nThe knife came down, scoring a shallow cut on Linus' face. The boy winced and clutched at the blood.\n\n\"I'm here to deliver a message.\"\n\nAgain the knife flashed, this time biting into the teen's chest, slicing through cloth and skin in equal measure.\n\n\"A message that you had best watch your back from now on.\"\n\nAnother cut, this time on the arm.\n\n\"A lot more people than you realize wanted to stay in the Game. And every single one of us will be coming for you.\"\n\nA new wound on the shoulder was opened.\n\n\"Not all of us want to kill you. Some just want to hurt you. Others want to make your life miserable. And yes, there are a few who want you dead.\"\n\nTwo more this time, one on each hand.\n\n\"Because, you see, Linus, the Game may not have been real, but not everyone wanted to wake up from that dream.\"\n\nWith his purpose fulfilled, Ryan sheathed his knife. He had drawn nothing but small, shallow wounds. But that was all he needed to do. He left the boy's room as the so-called hero nursed the cuts and let fear replace the lost blood." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1400-1500 words. Prompt: You are a witch, you curse your enemy so that what they love will die in some time. Three days later you are diagnosed with cancer." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The color drains from my face when I hear the doctor. I had never expected this to happen to me. I had lived a fairly healthy life and all. Apart from the casual potion every now and then.\n\nThings had been going great, and now it had all just been blown away. After I had finally found the way to get revenge on my enemy. The man who had bullied me all through out high school. And now to hear that I would most likely die before I ever saw him suffer for all the pain he had caused me.\n\nI quickly ran to the nearest bathroom and sacrificed my previously eaten lunch. This couldn't be happening. I finished up talking with the doctor. He said that treatment would be futile and that I'd have maybe 6 months left to live. 8 if I'm lucky. I nodded, I was in a daze. I left the clinic and took the bus to my apartment building.\n\nI dreaded walking up the stairs to my apartment. Because it would mean I would have to pass by his apartment. And I would die before I ever let him see me in this weak state. And as the fates would have it, of course he had to get the apartment on the same floor as mine. Just to torment me even more.\n\nI walked to my door. Every step a dull thud in the back of my head. I was half way there. Just needed to get a few yards farther without him opening his door. I made it. And as I was fumbling around with my keys, \"click\" I hear the sound of his door unlocking. I started panicking and that made it even harder for me to get the right key in the door. Everything just seemed so unfamiliar at the moment. I hadn't even notice him walk up behind me.\n\n\"Need help?\"\n\nMy heart dropped as I flipped around to see his malicious smirking face mere inches from my own.\n\n\"No, what do you want\" I tried to say cooly and aggressively but I don't just falter once, I stuttered and shook through that entire sentence. Which was utterly uncharacteristic for me, and I know he picked up on it too.\n\nSomething darkened his gaze and he backed off for once. Which was also be very unusual and uncharacteristic.\n\n\"Nothing.\"\n\nHe went back to his door, giving me a weird look. Probably planning my demise. I got my door open and entered.\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\nA few weeks had passed from that point. Within that time I had begun to feel as though I were being watched. Even in my own apartment. I told my mother of the news and the cry I heard from her was dreadful and stuck needles into my heart and soul.\n\nAlso I hadn't really seen him too much. As if he himself were avoiding me. To give insight on him, he was tall, dark, and handsome. Many girls were after him and he made it a habit of letting me know he was irresistible to woman every chance he got. Especially in high school. His name was Xavier. Xavier Rosalind. He would get the other girls to taunt me and would constantly knock into me. He would even knock stuff off my desk during class, or even steal my stuff just to annoy me.\n\nAs I was going up the stairs to my apartment, something felt odd. I started to hurry because I had to take my medicine that would ease my body. But once in the hallway, everything seemed harder. The length of the walls seemed to double and the lights seemed to dim and flutter. It became a struggle to breath. I bombed into the wall. I was about to pass his door. \"Click\"\n\nThe deafening roar of the sound terrified me, and the last thing i remember before everything going black was falling into a set of arms.\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\n~I was back in my highschool halls. But they seemed more eerie. There was a figure up ahead, both fore arms resting beside his head on the wall. The figure seemed upset, angry even. I walked towards it, trying to see who it was. It turned to me to reveal a younger Xavier. Angry and frustrated. He was yelling something but it seemed jumbled. I shook my head and it seemed to go normal.\n\n\"Why!? Why do you resist me?! Every girl here goes crazy over me! But you, you find new ways to avoid me altogether!\"\n\nHe was getting closer, and the closer he got the angrier he looked. I tried to respond but my voice was caught in my throat. I remember this happening but it always seems foggy.~\n\n~I'm thrown into another memory. The guy I like back then was there. He seemed to like me too. We talked nearly everyday. Then one day he stopped. When I questioned it he avoided my gaze. And I just felt hurt. I ran away from it close to crying and I bumped into a familiar smirking person. ~\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\nI woke up, drenched in a cold sweat. Wondering why those memories were brought up. I then realize I'm not in my bed, but on some one's couch. I jump up, ready to fight except a my legs are wobbling and I feel an overwhelming sense if nausea swell in my gut. I look around and I just see a completely different Xavier from the one I've known. He was disheveled, tired looking. A look of worry passed over his face as he sat looking at me.\n\nHe shifted his gaze and I followed it to a glass of water. I wrinkled my nose in disgust knowing he probably poisoned it or something. He sighed in an exasperated manner. He took the glass of water and slipped from it before putting it back down to show that my thoughts were indeed wrong. I still left it untouched.\n\n\"What's going on?\" He asked his voice gruff and demanding.\n\nI left his question unanswered and I just stared daggers at him. He became more upset and distraught with that, and asked more urgently.\n\nI remained silent.\n\n\"God dammit! Tell me what the hell is wrong!!\" He yelled.\n\nThat made me angry and I yelled back. \"What's it matter to you huh??!!! Its not like you to care about these things! So if you dont mind, I'm leaving!\"\n\nI go to walk to the door but he blocks my path. \"Move\"\n\nI push against him, yet he is unmoving.\n\n\"I'll let you through if you tell me what's wrong. Dont act as if you haven't been crying alone in your apartment for the past couple weeks.\" He stated and I was appalled.\n\n\"How the hell would you know that??\"\n\nHe flinched because he realized what he said. Though he never answered. He stayed where he was, and I guess there was only one way i thought I could get him to move without telling him what was wrong.\n\n\"I hope you suffer from my curse you imbecile. That the person you love most dies suffering.\" I sneered, and he seemed visibly shaken and taken aback. I pushed past him with no problem and left his apartment.\n\nLater the night, I was awoken by pounding at my door. I unlocked it and swung it open angrily. \"What?!\" I said before I saw who it was.\n\n\"What did you do?\" He said fear in his voice.\n\n\"You heard me earlier. That's exactly what I did.\"\n\nHe sighed and looked at me with the most stoic expression he has ever mustered in his life. And that's when what he told me, shocked me through and through.\n\n\"I love you dammit. I always had\"\n\nOverwhelming anger just coursed through my veins at that and I slammed the door in his face. Theres no way he lives me not after all he had done. All of a sudden i felt horrible and i collapsed there next to my door.\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\nI woke up to the sound of a beeping monitor. I looked around, I was in a hospital room. An IV was hooked up to me. And he was there, resting his head on the bed next to me. I could barely move but I could frown and stare daggers at him all I wanted. I'll never forgive him. He can just go love somebody else.\n\n~finish\n\nHoped you guys like that. I wish I could've made it better but I'm on my phone so I cant right now. Let me know what you guys think." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: One day, an angel in a business suit knocks on your door. She's from the Celestial Bureau of Worldly Statistics, and she's here to congratulate you on being the unluckiest human ever to have lived." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lying in bed resting on a sunny Sunday, the skies are blue and sunlight beams into your room. But this room is in a hospital. Cameron has been trapped here for months in a coma.\n\nThings haven't been going well for Cameron and his family over the last few years. His wife was laid off recently. The company Cameron works for is changing management and who knows what will happen soon. Cameron's son was born with a medical condition that's draining finances but his health is the only concern.\n\nA few weeks ago, Cameron is driving his family home. Going straight through with an intersection with a green light, another car going 45 mph t-bones Cameron and his family. The other car hits the passenger side. The collision kills his wife but leaves Cameron and his son alive. Cameron is knocked into a coma.\n\nIn the hospital Cameron is mentally awake, but he can't move anything. His coma allows him to hear everything around him but his motor control is gone. He can't move his lips, eyes, legs, hands or anything.\n\nDuring the last few days Cameron hears his parents bring his son, Mark, to his room. Cameron can hear his parents talking to Mark about the death of his mom, Cameron's wife. Cameron is stuck there thinking about the emotional pain for his son. Being motionless and unable to help, his agony worsens.\n\nThat night Cameron hears an unusual strong wind move through his room. There are foot steps. It must have been hours since his parents and son left. Cameron assumes it's 11PM or later. This isn't the normal time for a nurse to checkup on him.\n\nThe figure speaks \"Hi Cameron. I'm Susan.\"\n\nCameron can't move, he waits, there's nothing he can do.\n\nSusan continues \"I am a representative for The Celestial Bureau of Worldly Statistics. I answer no questions and offer no assistance. That is my job. My only duty is to inform you that you officially are the unluckiest human ever to have lived. Congratulations and good luck.\"\n\nThere is silence. Cameron is bewildered. Is this a joke?\n\nSusan breathes a heavy sigh. \"Normally that would be the end of our interaction. Then you're supposed to hear that wind sound, and I would be gone. Today is different. I have my normal suit attire, but if you could see me Cameron my tie is loosened around my neck.\"\n\nThere's another heavy sigh from Susan. Cameron thinks to himself this has to be a joke.\n\nThere's another long silence before Susan speaks again. \"Cameron, what is the meaning of life? That's a rhetorical question. Your species only lives until 75 years on average. My species has a 20,000 year average life span. I don't expect you to be able to answer anyways, you're in a coma. That's the reason I'm saying more than I'm supposed to.\"\n\nAnother heavy sigh.\n\n\"I'm getting sick of my job. I think I'm getting sick of life. I see the peaks and lows of the universe with my job. And there's no meaning! Sometimes I wished I would have found a normal job. Sometimes I wished I was a simpleton just like your entire species. Life would be so much easier.\"\n\nThis time a quick sigh, almost a feeling of anger is felt.\n\n\"Nothing matters! I don't care anymore. There's no reading the future, there's no going back in time. There's only now. I don't know if I'll be alive tomorrow or if your son will turn into a depressed child from all your bad luck. There are so many planets with life out there. Why am I here on this planet, why do I have this life. I don't know if your luck will change. I don't know if my life will change. I don't care anymore. I don't care if you report me to The Celestial Bureau of Worldly Statistics. I don't care. Your species is so primitive you don't have the technology to find the organization anyways. It'll be many millennial before your species goes beyond your own galaxy.\"\n\nFor a moment Cameron starts to feel something physical. Is it cold? Is it just fear? Is it anger? But it all stems from the thought \"Don't you talk about my son like that!!!\"\n\nSusan continues, \"I know you lost your house a few years ago. I know your mom had a stroke around then. I know your son's condition doesn't seem to get any better. I know your current wife is dead. I know your ex-wife is milking you for money. I know your dad mistreated you during your childhood. I know you do your best to protect your son and he doesn't appreciate it. I know about that painful story of your kidnapping when you were 11 years ago and the torture you endured. Nothing matters Cameron. You will die. Your parents will die. Your son will die. Eventually it all means nothing. I can't do this job anymore. I'm done with this life.\"\n\nThere's that strong wind sound again that brought Susan. But this time, there's silence. A long silence.\n\nThe feeling of cold fear goes numb. Cameron can't physically feel anything again. He lays there in his thoughts. More confused than minutes ago." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You are an elf who is tasked in taming small wild dragons for the elven army. These dragons are the size of a car but can be very dangerous. No magic work on them so you'll have to tame them with force and skills. If you make any mistake you will probably die" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I hummed a tune, aligning my thoughts with the world around me. I could feel the breeze in the leaves, the ants on the ground, the squirrel above me. They all pulsed with vibrant life, filling me with joy in experiencing it. I could also feel the imposing presence of my quarry.\n\nThe orders had been very specific this time. Mostly I just had to tame whatever dragon I could. They were taken in by the Winged Corp, the army's dragon riding battalion. So mostly I went for Emerald Thorn Dragons. They were a beautiful green, and had one of the more pleasant temperaments.\n\nBut this time, I was getting one for an officer. As part of their promotion, they would get the choice of keeping their current mount, or taking a new one. Most kept their current ones, having formed a bond. Some had to take a new one, after being promoted following a loss of their old mounts. And some just didn't want to have one that looked the same as the rest.\n\nThis officer was one of those who wanted a new one to stand out. So he asked for one of the hardest ones to tame. An Onyx Brimstone Dragon. One of the few that could actually breath fire. I could have refused. There were other tamers like me. But I wouldn't, despite the danger to myself. It wouldn't be fair to ask them to risk their lives over my own.\n\nSo I had searched for one. Luckily, I had found a young one, just barely reaching adulthood. That naivety would make it easier to tame. Not much, but maybe enough to make a difference. I had tracked it over a week, finding its current lair. I had to make sure not to startle it, lest it fly away.\n\nI ceased humming, standing still with my staff. With my thoughts ready, I approached the dragons location. It had taken refuge in a cave, partway up a cliff. With a whisper, I levitated to the entrance, gently setting down. I could feel a change in the air, as it detected me.\n\nIt let out a light growl, warning me off. I held up my hands, and spoke in a calm voice.\n\n\"Calm.... calm.... I'm not here to hurt you.\"\n\nIt sniffed. I knew it was smelling my emotions, and intent. I remained calm, letting it do its thing. I heard a scrape, and it emerged into the light. I gasped, having never seen an Onyx Brimstone before.\n\nIt was covered in lustrous scales, that glinted in the light. It's head had a noble shape, with oddly piercing eyes. It's horns seemed to glow white, a perfect contrast to its scales. By all rights, it was a gorgeous creature. I held out my arm, letting it get close by itself.\n\nIt moved closer, licking the air. It moved with careful precision, holding back its true strength and grace. It moved its heads upwards, breathing in deep. The air turned hot, as it blew a stream of flame over me in a challenge. I stayed still, letting it do its display of dominance.\n\nIt let loose another growl, and dropped down into a fighting crouch. I dropped too, having expected this. It had displayed its strength, and assessed mine. Now we had to decide the hierarchy. This is were most tamers died, underestimating the dragons strength. I didn't. I knew they were stronger. They needed to be treated with respect to pass.\n\nIt leapt forwards, extending its claws. I jumped to the side, planting my staff on the ground. I used my momentum to spin round, kicking it in the side as I came out of it. It turned fast, coming at me again. This time I ducked, raising my staff upwards into its jaw. It ahead was knocked up, and it shook itself.\n\nIt circled me again, eyeing me up. I let it come to me, rather than taking the fight to it. It snarled, launching at me a third time. This time however it spun, whipping its tail at me. I cartwheel over, and smacked its rear end. It let out a short yelp, glaring at me. I smiled, ready to fight again.\n\nOur battle continued, with me dodging and landing the odd blow, as it continued to miss me. Eventually, it let out a defeated sound, slumping down. I slowly moved to it, and patted its snout. It huffed, but let me, having accepted me as in charge.\n\nThe hard part was done, being accepted. But now came the long part, making it tame for others." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: As a soldier on the front lines of The Great Emu War, you are forced to confront the harsh reality of war." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Dear Mother,\n\nThe sky is beautiful tonight, like someone crushed a bunch of diamonds and dropped them on the bible back home. I sometimes wonder if they look up and see the same thing, feel the same wonder. But then I remember, \"Natey, they're emu's, they don't think. They don't feel. They're just birds.\"\n\nI hope this letter finds you well. I'm doing fine, as fine as can be. I appreciate the sunblock you sent along, it's been a godsend. We're currently stationed outside of Kumarina, rearming, about to rotate back into the heartland. The higher ups say the sectors are clearing slowly but surely, the crops are coming back. We'll be part of the final push in a couple weeks time, as far as I've heard at least. My mates say that they're planning to squeeze the emu's down the coast and trap them on a beach, put them between bullets and waves, reason being that they can't swim. Neither can I, but I'm not the enemy so I guess I don't have to worry.\n\nMom, I can't tell you how weird it feels to know that the mail censor has no problem at all with me letting you know about our movements. It's alien to me. I know an emu can't read. I know it can't fathom the idea of stealing mail, of gleaning secret plans from a sons letter to his mother, of turning the information to its advantage, to help it survive. I know that. But they're our enemy, we've been told that since day one. I have to give them the same respect and consideration as any bloke that would want to do you, or me, or our country harm. It's mighty hard to see a large, dumb, flightless bird as being worthy of this designation- enemy. And yet, here we are.\n\nThe last time I wrote to you, we were still in the field, the night before a large engagement. I cannot call it a battle, our lieutenant stuck to calling it an engagement. We set up on top of a low ridge overlooking a large wash, with enough water in it that the birds would come and congregate. There were hundreds, already there, just watching us set up our guns. Watching us thread in ammunition. Watching us watching them.\n\nThe first rounds we fired fell short, someone had neglected to readjust our irons after the last time we used them. They just watched as the guns boomed and chattered, sending spray up a couple dozen feet away. They didn't scatter, they didn't run or scream, they watched as we resighted them and resumed pulling our triggers. Mother, I have no way to describe it other than the word slaughter. Every time we engage, I expect something more. I expect them to move, to form up, to turn their tails and run for the hills. But they don't. They might scamper a couple feet if a round lands near them, they might screech and caw and run in circles if one of them falls close by, but they don't leave the kill zone. They don't charge us. They die, and they die by the hundreds. It smells like your cooking by the end.\n\nMother, I cannot take it. It's one thing to fight a man that is trying just as hard as I am to survive- there's honor in that, they write books about it. But as I sit here, staring at the sky like so many souls looking down on me, how can I see myself as anything other than a monster? I laid there during the engagement, feeding the belts of bullets into the machine gun I crew, finding myself talking to Cliff in between bursts about the last letter he got from Abby, about the rations we had the night before, about the bloody weather even, as our gun sat on the ridge, spitting and smoking and mowing down birds. I caught myself laughing at a joke he made as the barrel tracked what must have been a young bird, just trying to get close enough to the water for a drink, trying to step over the bodies of its kind. It never made it.\n\nLater I sat in my tent, trying to remember the last time I felt that way. I had a hard time placing the anger I was feeling, the resentment. Isn't it a beings very design to survive? Isn't it a necessity, in the grand scheme of things (to borrow Papa's phrase), to need, to claw for and crave every moment of life? But there I was, sitting in my tent, stinking of gunpowder and without a drop of blood on me, with another hundred emu's to my count. They don't try, Ma. They don't care. And it scares me.\n\nI know what you're thinking. A mother always knows when her son isn't doing well, I'm sure you can read it in my penstrokes. But here we are, talking without talking, hundreds of miles apart, and all I can think of is the future. I know you would tell me to buck up, to try and see what they've done, the havoc they've wrought on the land, the crops, the animals and how I'm helping to restore the balance. I know, Ma. I can see that. But it had me thinking, once again in Pa's way, about us, about the grand scheme of things.\n\nWe don't try, we just spread. We don't try, we just shape the land around us and find a reason that another species is infringing on our right to the land we share with them. Ma, what happens when we come up against something that thinks the same way we do, but sees us as the birds? What happens then?\n\nThe sky doesn't seem so beautiful now. But it's there, and I cannot look away.\n\nAll my love,\n\nYour Nathaniel" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: In the future, mind-transplants are possible. The minds of those about to commit suicide are unknowingly or unwillingly traded with the minds of those with terminal diseases and the elderly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It's a twist on the prompt involving criminals and their victims that I wrote a few months ago for an anthology that folded up at the eleventh hour. Someone ought to read it...\n\nDyllan’s leg manacles slammed against the door frame as the guards ushered him into the examination room. He fought them for every step, because screw them. The room was cold, white, and sterile, a huge improvement from the filth of the prison, but somehow this room terrified him in a way the cell never could.\n\nThe guards sat him down on the steel chair in front of the Doctor’s desk and chained him to the floor. Dyllan’s useless lawyer followed him into the room and skulked in the back of the room like the coward he was. An older doctor with streaks of gray mixed into his jet black hair sat down and looked at Dyllan over his wire-frame glasses.\n\n“Mr. McDullan, I’m Dr. Scholten, your court appointed doctor in this matter,” he said. “Do you know why you’re here?”\n\nDyllan spat on the floor. He wanted to show these fascists he didn’t care. Not one damn.\n\nDr. Scholten looked at Dyllan’s lawyer who shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll take that as a yes. Judge Jones has signed off on the sentencing order.”\n\nDr. Scholten picked up the official printout and read. “Dyllan McDullan, in accordance with the Human Regenerative Ban Act of 2032, section five, paragraph one, as the perpetrator of a violent criminal act resulting in the irreparable harm of another human being, you are hereby sentenced to immediate body replacement to a host determined by the State.”\n\n“I refuse. I do not recognize your authority to usurp my bodily autonomy and I will not cooperate,” Dyllan was yelling by the end of the sentence. His lawyer’s rehearsed response left his lips like a magical ward.\n\n“I’m afraid the Supreme Court rejected your appeals. There are no more arguments to be made. This is happening,” Dr. Scholten said.\n\n“I demand you return me to prison,” Dyllan growled. “Or execute me immediately.”\n\nDr. Scholten held out the order for Dyllan to attach his thumb print. When the criminal shied away, he held it up to his lawyer.\n\n“Dyllan, we both know that executions were banned in 2022. Personally, if it were me…” Dr. Scholten leaned in really close to Dyllan’s face. “I’d have no qualms about taking you out back and beating you to death with a crowbar, but I’m old fashioned. Judge Jones made the call. The prisons are full and you’re too expensive to feed for the rest of your miserable life. One body transfer and you’ll be free to go.”\n\nMr. Finergin, his lawyer, stepped up and put his thumb print on the readout.\n\n“Don’t you sign it! You bastard,” Dyllan rattle the chains and tried to stop his attorney, but it was done. Four hundred dollars an hour and Mr. Finergin folded like a cheap suit at the end. All the money in the world couldn’t buy Dyllan an acquittal.\n\n“Call me anything you want,” Mr. Finergin said. “But I’ll tell you this. Your money is gone. My signature is the last thing I’m being paid for. Once this transfer goes through, you’re on your own.”\n\n“You can’t do this!” Dyllan shouted. “It wasn’t me. I’m innocent!”\n\nDr. Scholten glanced at Mr. Finergin, who shook his head.\n\n“Two juries and three judges say otherwise, Dyllan. Hell, the forensics alone is damning; fingerprints, blood, semen, fibers, RFID signatures, GPS records. But what really sealed the deal for the Judge … we pulled your victim’s memory cube and your ugly face is all over it.”\n\n“I don’t care what that bitch remembers,” Dyllan cursed. “It wasn’t me.”\n\nDr. Scholten went back to reading the printout. “By law, I’m required to make you aware of the side effects of body transfer to a non-genetic match body. You may experience some or all of the following: Moderate to severe host dysmorphia syndrome, migraines, blurred vision, depression, anxiety, increased risk of schizophrenia and Alzheimer’s. And of course, the body you’ll be getting is slightly used, so you’ll have all that to deal with.”\n\n“What body am I getting?” Dyllan whispered, the finality of his situation starting to sink in.\n\n“Are you familiar with the old saying,” Dr. Scholten said, “you broke it, you bought it?”\n\n#\n\nDyllan woke with a splitting headache. The bright lights of the hospital ward made him nauseous. The first thing he noticed, besides the pain, was the absence of handcuff, or restraints of any kind. He had been in a cell or locked up for so long, he’d forgotten what it felt like.\n\nHe couldn’t be entirely sure of his feet, because he could feel them at all. Everything below the waist was numb. He threw off the sheets and pulled up his hospital gown. A high-pitch shriek of horror escaped his pretty new lips.\n\n“It’s gone,” Dr. Scholten laughed as he walked into the room. “Change of bodies, change of equipment. You might have learned to enjoy it, if you hadn’t ruined the poor girl.”\n\nThe doctor held up a mirror in front of Dyllan and Harriet Baggott’s terrified and scarred face stared back at him. He was small, and frail, and damaged. The quarter-sized incision scar in the middle of his forehead where they’d implanted his memories in her cortex confirmed that the nightmare was real.\n\n“Come on,” Dr. Scholten said. “We’ve got something to show you and then you’ll be released.”\n\nThe good doctor helped him out of his bed into a wheelchair. They rolled down the hall in silence and took the elevator down to the basement. Dr. Scholten stopped briefly at the door marked “Morgue” and said, “You’ll like this part.”\n\nHe pushed past the door and wheeled Dyllan in where two medtechs were waiting with Dyllan’s young, powerful, and handsome body, now cold and lifeless. They let it die.\n\nWhen the techs rammed the body into the cremator and the jets of flame roared, Dyllan cried for the first time since he was five. No one had ever taken something from him, and now they’d taken everything." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1400-1500 words. Prompt: Humans are a species that can willingly move in space but not time. You meet a creature that can willingly move in time but not space." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Martin. He called himself Martin. I asked him what he was doing in the phonebooth. He said he didn’t really have a choice. I didn’t understand. Granted, I was only 10 years old and didn’t understand much at the time. However, that is when I first met Martin.\n\nAll, I remember about him is that he seemed sad and annoyingly would never leave that telephone booth. I don’t remember exactly what we talked about but he seemed to address me as an old friend. When I left the strange man in the booth, he said, “Goodbye, Johnny.” I never told him my name.\n\nThe second time I saw Martin, I was 17. The telephone booth was gone by then, but he was just hanging out in front of the convenience store where the booth had stood. I found it odd that I would see the same guy in the same spot 7 years later. Remarkably, he hadn’t seemed to change much at all in those 7 years. Even the clothes seemed to be the same.\n\nI approached him thinking that there was no way that he would remember the 10 year old boy that had approached him in a phone booth those many years ago. There was also no way that he would recognize the young man I had become. I couldn’t have been more wrong. He smiled when he saw me and waved me over to him.\n\n“Johnny!” He said, opening his arms to embrace me. I remembered that I still had not told him my name. I instead awkwardly extended my hand to shake his. He looked disappointed, but took it and shook it heartily.\n\n“You look so young,” he said. This was confusing to me because I had been much younger when I last saw him. Then strangely, he asked me what year it was. I told him and he seemed satisfied. I had so many questions for him, but the strangeness of the encounter was just too much for me to articulate any of them.\n\nHe asked me about school and my day to day life. I didn’t really want to answer questions like that from a stranger, but something felt oddly familiar about him, so I humored him. I finally asked him about the time I first met him in the phonebooth and he seemed perplexed and couldn’t give me any satisfactory answers. At last, I bid him farewell, and went about my business leaving him in his spot in front of the store.\n\nFor years, I kept coming back to that location to see if I could find Martin again. Time after time, there would be no one there. Businesses rose and fell in the spot, but still no sighting of Martin. This made me sad and kind of anxious, I questioned whether I had ever met him or not. After about a decade of searching for him, I finally gave up and mostly forgot about him.\n\nI was 38 when I saw Martin next. I didn’t even intend to go to the spot to see him. It was a coffee shop now and I needed my morning fix. When I walked through the door, I spotted him right away. He was seated at a table drinking a cup of joe.\n\nI ran excitedly up to him. He looked up in surprise and confusion, spilling a bit of his coffee on the table.\n\n“Martin!” I cried.\n\n“I’m sorry. Do I know you?” The question seemed genuine, which hurt my feelings. However it had been 27 years, I guess he could be forgiven for not recognizing me, my physical appearance had changed quite a bit since I was a teenager. That’s when it hit me that he looked the same as he always did.\n\n“It’s Johnny! Don’t you remember me. I’ve met you at this same spot several times.”\n\nHe still didn’t seem to recognize me, but invited me to sit at his table. I sat down, wondering if this was a mistake.\n\n“I’m sorry, but I haven’t met you, yet.” The sentence was incredibly confusing to me. I had met him twice already. There was no confusion that this was the same guy. I started to tell him that, but he stopped me with a wave of his hand.\n\n“I’m sure that you have met me before, and in this exact spot. I just haven’t met you. However, it seems that I get that pleasure today. Allow me to properly introduce myself, my name is Martin Schlesinger and I am what you might call a time traveller.”\n\nAt this point, I knew it was time to get up and walk away from the table. However, something in his voice told me that he wasn’t crazy or trying to trick me. Though, I felt uneasy, I asked him to go on.\n\nLooking relieved that I had chosen to stay, he continued, “ I was born in this spot and I will eventually die in this spot. I have no choice in that matter. I can not move about the world in the way that you do. Instead, I can move through that which you call time. I choose when I want to be, just never where.”\n\nThis did seem insane to me, but it also explained so much about Martin. So, I went along with it. I asked him about his life and he told me anything I wanted to know. He told me about the past in this area. He even told me a bit about the future, though he was careful about some details.\n\nI told him about my life. My job, my kids, my hobbies. It was in that meeting that I would say Martin and I became friends. After I told him about my childhood growing up with a single mother and no father figure, he looked kind of sad for me.\n\nAt the end of that meeting he asked me to come back and see him in four years, that as always he would be in the same spot.\n\nSo it was that at 42 I saw Martin again. He seemed nervous, but excited to see me. He was standing in the cold in front of the electronics shop that had been a coffee shop last we met.\n\n“Johnny,” he said beckoning me over. “I’m going to cut to the chase. I am your father. I am the reason that you were raised by a single mother and why you never knew your father.”\n\nI was dumbfounded. I couldn’t speak for a full minute. This was not the reunion I was hoping for. I started to feel a wave of anger and gratitude and sorrow all at once.\n\n“What? How?”\n\n“I met your mother when this spot was a hotel. She was employed here as a maid. She knew that I frequently occupied this room and would visit me during her shifts. She was very pretty and as we talked more we eventually fell in love.”\n\n“We didn’t really consider the consequences of our love. When she became with child, she knew that we had to end our affair. Our differences were just too great to raise a child together. I asked if I could meet you but she said that the pain would just be too great all around. That’s why I was so I excited when I met you in that coffee shop and realized who you were. I have never stopped loving your mom or wondering about you.”\n\nI was in tears at this point. I embraced my father. We talked long about life and love and everything in between.\n\nFor years after I came to visit Martin in this spot. I grew older but he always looked the same. We had great talks where I shared my life with him and he shared his with me. Finally, came our last meeting when I had to inform my father that it would be the last time we would meet.\n\n“It’s been great getting to know you, Dad, but really I’m just too old now. The doctors haven’t given me long to live. I just want you to promise me one thing. Find me when I’m 10 years old. Talk to me. I needed a father, and that day led to me eventually having one.”\n\nTears welled up in Martin’s eyes. He nodded solemnly and then right before my eyes he vanished. I never saw Martin again, however, I knew in a way my time with him was never over." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 800-900 words. Prompt: 200 years from now the Earth is a desert. Describe the transition in the style of a History book." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The cause of the Great Desertification of AD2215 (or DY 0 as it is now more popularly known) is of great contention amongst historians. One thing that is generally agreed upon is that the various great empires of the pre-desert era were to blame for the calamity, and more importantly for the loss of much knowledge. The great historian A.J Bobsbawm claims, from archaeological evidence and primitive reclamation of what we are calling 'electric knowledge' from the metal brains that were recently found in the Great Continental Desert, that the over-use of '3D Printing' and a materialistic culture based on the worship of a certain 'celebrity' class, in the great empire known as the United States of America, where the West Desert now lays, led to the mass draining of resources from the continent. The purpose of the celebrity and political class in the old empire remains unknown- they were certainly not warrior-kings in our modern sense. This, Bobsbawm, in his magnus opus 'The Age of Plenty' purports, was the precursor for a great war of expansion by the United States of America, previously a relatively peaceful state. This was opposed in AD2178 by the European Union, which has been variously described by J. Strong as a 'federalistic, centralised union of culturally independent states formed as a response to increased pressure and belligerence from the oil states in what is now the Centre Desert and from the USA' or alternatively by P. Dunning as 'an empire enforced from the German centre that brutally controlled the constituent states through the façade of a democratic, federal system'. We are not quite sure which interpretation is true, and some archaelogical and written evidence from the 'Daily Mail' supports Dunning's argument, whilst Strong's argument is supported by excerpts found of a paper called 'The Guardian', both from the island nation previously known as the United Kingdom. The presence of the UK in the EU is also under question by some historians.\n\nThe Great War of the two Atlantic Nations seems to have been a prolonged and surprisingly bloodless affair compared to the nature of warfare in the Deserts. However, this war distracted the political class (it seems to have not concerned the 'celebrity' class, who still lived in the same splendour and reverence as ever, whilst living conditions for the average person decreased by some 230% in the USA, as their dependence on 3D printing and the imperialistic utilisation of foreign resources was stopped by the war) enough to allow sophisticated, seemingly helmed by German experts, remote manipulation of American merchant systems which led to the EU winning this war, and the fall of the USA as a Great Power. The remote manipulation seems to have involved the 'metal brains' that technological historians are urging us to call 'computers'.\n\nHowever the EU hegemony, seemingly regained from AD1700-1945, failed nearly as quickly as it was gained when the inhabitants of the Eastern Desert, as barbarous as they are in the present day, led a sneak 'nuclear' (a nuclear weapon seems to a weapon of great power that some experts regard as a myth- however, this writer does not believe such rapid desertification of the Continental Desert could have occured without such destruction) attack on the semi-autonomous area known as 'Russia' in AD 2180 and this once great, but fractured, state fell quickly to the Asian Federation. The massive use of explosive weaponry seems to thrown enough dust into the air to change the ecosystem of the planet greatly, reducing rainfall, increasing the pH of the rain that did fall and bouncing reflected heat back into the planet. The Asian Federation retreated from the Continent in fear of the great disaster it had unleashed- but retaliatory strikes from paramilitary French, German and British radical groups with control of the nuclear stocks of each of these EU states soon turned the landmass known as China into the wasteland now known as the Sun Land. The reasons for the surprise strike are one of the most contentious in the historiography. Some have asserted that there is strong evidence for a European imperialistic utilisation of Asian resources from AD-1800-2050 which does explain the much lower standard of living and less consumerist culture they seem to have developed. However, others have argued that the Asian Federation had caught up with 'western' standards by 2050 and the strike was part of an apocalyptic cult in the Chinese military that had pursued the formation of the Asian Federation in order to have the nuclear strength to bring the Earth to it's present state.\n\nThe great forests died, the soil lost it's vigour under the undying heat of the sun and it is estimated that 70% of the world's population died due to famine. The remnants migrated out of the old nation states, centralised government collapsed and the strongest and most feared sociopaths amongst us formed the roaming, nomadic tribal world we see today. This historian hopes that one day we may regain the world we lost..." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: Two forgotten gods come together to reminisce and to bid each other farewell as the remnants of their divinity slips away." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Leaf lay silently on the battlefield. The echoes of battle had long since past, leaving only a heavy silence. Leaf looked into the smoky sky, hoping to see the night sky. \"Oh... Right....\" He thought to himself. \"Stars was in this fight too. I hope she's still alright.\" Leaf lay there, hoping everything was okay, but knowing in his heart that it wasn't.\n\nAfter a few minutes, Leaf finally gained the courage to look down. A 4 foot spear stuck out of the center of his chest. \"Ouch.\" He winced, trying to clench muscles that could not respond. \"I guess this is it then.\"\n\nLeaf looked back up at the stars, and was greeted by a cold steel scythe against his neck. \"Oh, hey Death.\" Death was silent. Leaf knew that Death couldn't speak, but it felt odd not saying hello.\n\nDeath nodded, and pulled with his scythe. The weight of the spear in Leaf's chest was immediately lifted, as his spirit was freed from his body. Death outstretched his hand to Leaf, who took it. Leaf rose to meet Death's eye level. At least where Leaf thought Death's eye level would be if it were not for his cloak.\n\n\"Thanks. I was wondering when you'd come along.\" said Leaf, trying to fill the dead air. Leaf finally got a good look around. The field was littered with bodies. Most of them he didn't recognize. However, some he did. He looked down, to see his own body. A strange sight, but one that oddly comforted him.\n\nDeath gestured west, and the two of them set off.\n\n\"Well, Death. It's been a long time since I've seen you. Mind telling me what you've been up to?\" Joked Leaf. Death exhaled a long slow rasp. \"I know. I know. Private business. Just trying to make light of an uneasy situation.\"\n\nLeaf was never one to enjoy the silence, especially when he wasn't the one in control of the situation. \"You know, Mother Earth would always berate me for speaking out of turn. So, if I get on your nerves, just say something.\" Leaf chuckled to himself.\n\n\"You know, it's been a good few centuries. I thought it'd last a little longer, but I'm okay that it has to come to an end, you know? I guess everything has to end eventually huh.\" Leaf looked at Death, who nodded.\n\n\"I know there are few people who stay past the end. You're one of them right?\"\n\nDeath nodded again.\n\n\"Wow. That's seems way more daunting than just... poof.\"\n\nDeath shrugged. Leaf surveyed the area, looking around to see if he could spot a familiar face.\n\n\"Do you consider your job to be hard? I know a lot of Gods are afraid of dying.\"\n\nDeath tilted his head side to side, as if thinking.\n\n\"I mean, on the one hand, you're the last person they talk to. You get to hear their real final words. On the other hand it's their final words. You know?\"\n\nDeath nodded, and looked up to the sky. Leaf followed his gaze. The smoky sky had begun to clear, and through it Leaf could finally see a single star.\n\n\"Oh good. Stars made it out alive\"\n\nDeath nodded.\n\n\"I was hoping she would survive. I know she was really nervous about today. She was so worried i was going to...\" Leaf trailed off.\n\nDeath wrapped his bony arm across Leaf's back, and squeezed gently. Leaf began to weep, but no tears came. Death held Leaf close, his dark cloak was warm to the touch, as if had been left out in the sun all day.\n\n\"Sorry. I'm sure most people cry, but I'm just going to miss Stars. I'm not so worried about me, but what will happen to her, you know?\"\n\nDeath hugged Leaf reassuringly. They stood there for a few minutes, Death comforting Leaf.\n\n\"Okay. I'm good.\" Leaf sniffled, breaking the embrace. Leaf tried to wipe the tears that never came away,.\"Lead on.\"\n\nDeath began moving slowly west again. The two walked in silence for a moment.\n\n\"I remember the first time I met Stars. She was wearing this dark blue dress, with streaks of gold running through it. It was so beautiful. Mother Earth caught me staring and told me I was being rude. I told her I wasn't being rude, but in fact admiring such a beautiful woman.\"\n\nDeath nodded\n\n\"That's right!\" Leaf exclaimed. \"You were there!\"\n\nDeath continued nodding.\n\n\"So, any way. Music changed her tune, and started playing this slow waltz, and I just knew it was my chance to introduce myself. So I went up to her and said, 'May I have this dance, my lady?' And then we danced. We danced all night. To every song Music played. I remember asking Music to continue singing, even after her voice had grown raspy and dry, because I just didn't want to stop being with her.\" Leaf laughed to himself.\n\nDeath snorted, as if to laugh as well.\n\n\"Mother Earth forbade us from being together. DId you know that?\" Leaf asked.\n\nDeath shook his head.\n\n\"Yeah. She said it was 'unnatural' for one of the Earth and one of the Sky to 'intermingle'. I know it's forbidden, but so what? A lot of things are forbidden. Hell, all of this is forbidden!\" Leaf gestured behind him at the wasteland of a battle.\n\nDeath nodded, leaning on his Scythe.\n\n\"Any way, I was never really a rule follower anyway.\"\n\nAs Leaf and Death crested a hill, Leaf finally saw their destination. A obsidian monument, that he had never seen. \"So, I take it, this is the exit?\"\n\nDeath nodded. The two slowly moved down the hill in silence. Leaf was lost in his thoughts with Stars to really be paying attention. Death stopped just short of the monument. Leaf was looking at his feet, thinking. They stood there for a few minutes, before Death snapped his fingers. Broken from his trance, Leaf looked at Death.\n\n\"I know most people are afraid of you, but it's been nice just talking with you. Perhaps in another life, we can really get to know each other\" Leaf hugged Death as he would an old friend. Death squeezed Leaf's shoulders, reassuringly. The two broke apart, and looked towards the obsidian monument.\n\n\"Well, Here I go. Off to another adventure.\" Leaf started to take his first step, but then stopped. \"Hey Death?\"\n\nDeath stared intently back.\n\n\"Tell Stars that I love her when she finally comes this way. Okay?\"\n\nDeath nodded. Leaf crossed the threshold into the Unknown. He turned to look back as the monument slowly began to sink. The two held eye contact for a few seconds before Death finally spoke.\n\n\"I will.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: While performing your daily activities, you discover that you can somehow create perfect copies of any inanimate object you touch and focus on. While playing with this newfound gift, you are suddenly alarmed by the screech of tires just outside. Black suits. Even blacker sunglasses." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The grief that had filled Rory's chest had completely vanished, and now he felt giddy. Extremely giddy. He began to chuckle, then the chuckle grew into full blown laughter, and the laughter led him to tears. He used the sleeve of his worn jacket to wipe the tears away from his eyes as well as the snot from his nose.\n\nAfter being laid off of work, Rory later found out at home that all the money he had left to his name was a five dollar bill. He had spent the remainder of the day staring at the bill, wondering what in the hell he was going to do with it, wondering how he would be able to make it last until he got another job, got another paycheck, or found a friend to help donate enough money to put food in his pantry.\n\nBut he wasn't worrying about it anymore.\n\nClenched in his right hand was the original five dollar bill, and clenched in his left hand was another five dollar bill. Upon closer inspection, it was an exact copy of the five dollar bill. Same serial code and everything. But that didn't matter, right? No store actually checked the serial codes.\n\nRory stared at his right hand again, stared at the original bill, and concentrated hard. He nearly screamed when he felt another five dollar bill materialize in his hand. Now he had $15. Now he was getting somewhere.\n\n\"I should go break these, get more bills, copy them,\" Rory whispered to himself. He winced, and looked around the apartment; the walls were thin and the last thing he needed was his next door neighbor Deborah to find out that he could materialize money.\n\nRory stuffed the three bills into his pocket and headed for the door. He was going to go to McDonald's, buy two cheeseburgers in celebration, and use the broken change to clone more money.\n\nThe door flew open before Rory could even reach a hand out for the knob. It collided into his face, crushing in his nose and sending him to the floor, leaving an arc of blood in the air.\n\n\"Ughh, whaaa, huhhh,\" Rory muttered as a group of men dressed in suits entered the apartment.\n\n\"We've got one,\" one of the men said, holding an index finger to his ear, \"yeah, the one we've been watching for awhile, he finally materialized.\"\n\nOne of the other men grabbed a hold of Rory, rolled him onto his stomach, and then pulled his hands behind his back. Rory sputtered, sending spurts of blood onto the cheap linoleum floor. The men pulled him up to his feet and he struggled to speak coherent words.\n\nRory wanted to scream, to yell for help, but all that came out was choked by blood rushing down his throat from his shattered nose.\n\n\"Yes, we have him now,\" one of the suited men said, \"we'll be bringing him to the building.\"\n\nRory looked to one of the men, got a good look at his face: he had blonde hair that was slicked to the side, and he was wearing expensive looking aviators that covered and hid his eyes. The man flashed a quick toothy smile before a bag was thrown over Rory's head.\n\nThey hauled him out of the apartment and threw him into a vehicle. Judging by how Rory could stretch out his legs and still not hit a wall, it must've been some sort of van. He tried to sit up so he could cough out the blood that was suffocating him, but one of the men put a boot into his chest and forced him back down onto his back.\n\nRory was drowning. He was going to drown on his own blood with $15 in his pocket. He tried to yell that he couldn't breathe, but the bag muffled him.\n\nHe was losing consciousness; the roar of the moving van drowned out, and soon the sound of the passing road began to sound like waves in an ocean, and Rory was drowning in the water.\n\nA boat, he needed a boat. He needed a boat so he wouldn't drown in the ocean.\n\nThe van exploded, sending bits of shrapnel and shredded body parts out onto the street. Cars screeched to a stop. Drivers honked their horns and some people even stepped out to see what happened.\n\nIn the middle of the highway, where the van had been, now sat a boat, appearing to have materialized out of nowhere, and laying on the deck was Rory.\n\nJenny, a woman who had been on the way to pick her daughter up from school shrieked when the bloodied upper half of a man landed on the hood of her car. He leaned up, looked through the windshield, and raised a finger to his ear.\n\n\"This one...\" the agent sputtered, \"this one can materialize from imagination.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: : Write about the happiest moment of somebody's life. Make it absolutely heartbreaking." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "His alarm sounds and he sits up mechanically.\n\nHe feels tired yet, he wants to just layback and not have to go today, but he's already assisted himself through this. A set of clothes lay at the foot of his bed, his hair has been cut to make bed head easy to manage specifically for this moment, and there is a prepared breakfast burrito with coffee pot already timed ten minutes before his alarm. His phone rings and it says 'mom' on the ID, but he leaves it ring.\n\nHe is ready to finish his goal he promised today; a nice dress shirt, some pressed pants, shined shoes, and he was walking down his apartment hallway. He walks outside and almost slips on a ice patch, \"Mom is going to yell at my landlord, again.\" He steps into a small snow drift and some it clung to his pants. As he sits into his car, he clicks his heels together to get any loose snow out, so it doesn't melt on his floor. In his passenger seat is his cap and gown, he has to be at the college in 30 minutes. 'No problem', he thinks as warms up his engine.\n\n\"Drinking, again?\" His buddy from class says as he walks up to him. \"It's alright, man. You'll do good today.\"\n\nHe gets into place and waits as they walk out to their seats. It takes a few minutes, but he just thinks about everything in the past several years as he gets to the metal folding chair they have set out for him while they go through the ceremony of accepting their degrees. He thinks about his parents, his dad's choices, his mom's choices, his siblings, his part in all of it, his old house, and finally the accident. By the time they called his name, he was already crying. He walks up to the stand and looks out at his peers, all 500 of them have earned their degrees today, and he looks out at their family and friends, hundreds of people sit out behind them watching them accept their awards for completion in various academic fields. He walks up, and shakes the hands of his professors and other faculty members that witnessed. As he walks down he sees some of his peers as they smile and nod towards him.\n\nA older woman comes sauntering over to him before he sits and says, \"YOU DID IT!\" She smiles behind her spectacles.\n\n\"Can I call you mom, today?\" He says with his eyes full of tears. She looks taken back, but smiles.\n\n\"Of course!\" She wraps his arms around him.\n\n\"It was hard, it was so hard!\" He says as he sobs into her shoulder, \"Thanks for helping me. Feeding me. Letting me into your home. I don't know what I was doing, but I did it.\"\n\n\"It's okay, you did it.\" She says as she places her hand behind his head.\n\nThey get outside and she invites him over to eat at their house, but he declines and says, \"Maybe I'll come by later\". He shakes his friend's hand and watches as his Mom for today leave for their dinner. He gets in, puts his cap and gown back into the passenger seat, and watches for a moment as everyone leaves. All of them with their supporting families, he can feel the jealousy creep in slightly. As the car starts and goes into gear, he thinks of were to eat and opens his phone, and he goes to the nearest liquor store.\n\nA bottle of Johnny Walker's Blue Label sits open next to some Chinese take out in the living room coffee table; he sits in the kitchen with a picture and his degree out, he flips it open and close, just staring at it.\n\n\"Isn't ironic that, you were an alcoholic and I am here drinking the day of my graduation?\" He says looking at the picture. \"I did it, I graduated today. Yet, I still wish you were here instead.\"\n\nHe opens his phone and dials one, it rings once and immediately goes to voicemail. A woman's voice comes on, \"Hey, I'm not able to come to the phone right now, leave a message. If this is one of my children, call home, your mother worries.\"\n\n\"Hey mom,\" His lip quivers and his eyes tear up, he places his free hand over his face, \"I graduated today...\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You've found a modern day genie and wished for 10 million dollars. However, you quickly realize that there is no magic. All you know is that the wish will come true, and you've been directed a path to that money. No matter what happens, you're forced to see your wish till the end." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Well, I must be dreaming. I pinch my cheek with my left hand to make sure that this isn’t really happening, but seeing that this greenish cloud of a genie that appeared right in front of me didn’t disappear; I might have been drugged then. “Hello human! I am a genie ready to grant your wishes!” the green cloud floating in front of me said. “Are you really a genie?” I asked while trying to clean up the broken pieces of a green vase that the genie came out of. “The only way to find out is to make a wish, human” it replied, and with that said I guess there is really no harm in trying right? If I’m just imagining things nothing happens, but if this is really a genie, I get what I want. It’s a win win situation.\n\nI asked the genie about the three wishes rule, but it only said “You only get one wish, human so make it count.” “In that case I wish for an infinite number of wishes!” but after wishing for this the genie explained that I can’t wish for more wishes since his power only grants one wish. “You better make your wish count” the genie said. I sit on my black leather couch thinking of a wish; After all this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.\n\nAdmittedly wishing for super powers is amazing and all, but I’ll probably end up being experimented on by scientists for my powers. Resurrecting dead loved ones would also be quite messy. Then I realized that I can get money because with money I can buy anything I want. The money that I get will be my solid little paper genies that will give all that I want in this world.\n\n“Okay, I wish for 10 million dollars”\n\nThe genie replied with saying: “are you sure about that? The wish is a bit vague”\n\n“How is that vague? I said the exact amount of money that I want, and you are a genie after all so just do your thing and grant me my wish!” I replied\n\nThe green gas that is the genie started to shrink, and before it vanished into thin air it said “Whatever happens your wish will come true” as if it was warning me of something.\n\nMinutes pass and nothing happened I thought I was just having an illusion until I hear a knock on the door of my apartment. I look through the peephole and see a man in a black suit.\n\n“Who is it?” I ask\n\n“Hello, Mr. Herman would you kindly open the door” he replied.\n\nI absentmindedly followed, and ask “How do you know my name?”\n\n“That doesn’t matter. I am here because you have signed up to an experimental research, and we are here to deliver you to the lab where scientists will conduct their research” he replied as he pulled out a piece of paper about the consent form and point at my signature written on the bottom. “Wait, I never signed that paper!” I exclaimed as I was puzzled to see my signature accurately copied on the paper. “Well, this video begs to differ Mr. Herman” The man showed a video of me signing the paper on his phone and said “Don’t worry you’ll be compensated for through the 10 million dollars that you will get after the experiment has been concluded.”\n\n“What experiment is this exactly?” I ask\n\n“You’ll see” the man replied while pulling out what appears to be a gun. I feel a sharp pain on my arm and slowly drift into sleep\n\nI wake up and think that everything was just a dream, but I was wrong. I wake up to a scientist explaining what they will do to me, saying that they will only conduct psychological tests on me.\n\nJack Hermann spent a year of psychological torture and tests, is now only a mere body of a human. The experiments changed him, and is now admitted into an asylum with 10 million dollars untouched in his bank account" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: (WP) Johnny from \"The Devil Went Down to Georgia\" meets someone who can play fiddle better than him." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He saw him on a front porch playing under an old coke sign with a hat at his feet. He was about Johnny's age and handsome. He had a smile on his face as he twisted and contorted to the ripples of the music that filled the air. The shop keep had come outside to tell him to beat it, but he was drawn in as well. after the man finished his song and the small crowd that had gathered applauded johnny was burning with jealousy because he knew the truth of the matter. The fingers were faster and more precise. the soul was livelier and the songs were nothing he'd heard before.\n\n\"Great playing.\" Johnny said as the man was packing up his stuff and putting the nickels he'd earned in his pocket.\n\n\"Thankya. I 'preciate it. \" he gave him a smile. his goddamn teeth were so white and not that crooked. The way his hair slicked back made johnny try to slick his back too.\n\n\"where'd you learn to play like that?\"\n\n\"Deddy played and so did Papaw. Just born on the fiddle.\" The man packed up and stood up to meet his eyes and offered his hand.\n\n\"Jack Larson.\"\n\n\"Johnny Stringfellow. What you say?\"\n\n\"aw just headin' to get a bite with my lunch money\" He smiled and jingled his pocket.\n\n\"let me ask you something.\" Johnny was looking at his fiddle.\n\n\"In my truck, I have a golden fiddle. Would you believe me if I told you that?\"\n\n\"I'd kindly say no. No I wouldn't\" The man politely smiled.\n\n\"I play the fiddle too. ain't quite as good as you, i just play for church and what not, and I'd love to listen to you play on my fiddle. I can't make it sound like you can I know it.\n\nThe men walked off the porch and Johnny forgot why he'd even come to the store in the first place.\n\n\"Thissa way\" Johnny said as they rounded the side of the store. it was hot and dusty out in Macon. the gravel crunched under Johnny's feet as he leaned over the side of his truck and looked in the bed at the mahogany casing the golden violin was in. He opened it up and Jack was looking on with wide eyes. both their faces glowed yellow when the case was open. The sun made that gold plating reflect like a molten mirror.\n\n\"I'll be damned.\"\n\n\"You wanna play it?\"\n\n\"Kindly, i do.\"\n\n\"Hop on in the back.\" Jack hopped in the back and sat down in the bed of the truck. he gently removed the fiddle from the casing like he was holding a baby. He found the bow on the side of the case and gently drew it across the strings in an E minor chords. Johnny was listened to that sad chord progression of E minor, to D minor to A minor. He could play better than that. The man wasn't showing off. Johnny found the 9 inch knife he used to skin bucks in his glove compartment wrapped in a blue hemmed handkerchief.\n\nHe walked around to the side of the truck that jack was leaned up in and pushed the blade in the space between his collar bone and his neck as he used the handkerchief to cover the squirming man's mouth and head." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: \"As punishment for your insubordination, Private, you will be given the worst punishment our empire gives; You will serve aboard an allied human ship for the remainder of your time in the Empire's military\". You'll never forget the day your commander told you that, nor what happened afterward." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The hiss of pipes losing pressure overhead screeched down the corridor. Kendal stumbled into the concave wall next to him, while the ship lurched from the blast outside. The lights flickered three times then turned red. Darkness filled the rest of the void the red light would not. The metal pang of his boots hitting the floor announced his presence as he made it to the door at the end.\n\nThe sliding door jerked open to reveal the flight crew trying to deal with the real chaos. Yala and Tenso were grappling with a large duct hose that was flailing in the air, filling the room with steam. A different thinner cable was dancing with the Captain while he tried to avoid getting zapped by the sparking end. At the four consoles, only Zenith was at her's. Her feet were tucked toward her chest while she sat at the console. Underneath her, Ronny was head deep inside the console banging away at something.\n\n\"Kendal, give me a hand with sparky here,\" Captain Carson said. \n\nKendal squeezed past the consoles and ducked under Yala's butt as she was lifted in the air with Tenso by the steam tube. He caught a whiff of the bean casserole she just ate and held his hand over his mouth.\n\n\"Kendal. Any day now?\" Carson said, dodging another strike from the sparky viper.\n\nKendal grabbed the cable above his head with both hands. Then he slid his right hand down toward the sparking end. The cable calmed from wild frailing to light spasms. Carson made a step with his hands and hoisted Kendal up to reattach the cable. Sparks from the cable made it easy for Kendal to see where the cable went. He pushed the end into the socket and gave it a turn. The cockpit hummed to life and startup beeps came from the consoles.\n\n\"Consoles are back online. Get to your stations everyone.\" Zenith said.\n\nYala and Tenso were on the ground still wrestling with the mighty steam spewer. \n\nCarson lowered Kendal down and turned to his struggling crew, \"Get to your stations, Kendal and I will handle this.\"\n\nYala and Tenso both let go at the same time, scrambling to get on their feet. The tube whipped up and blasted Carson with steam, sending him flying into the unforgiving glass.\n\n\"You said you had it Captain.\" Tenso said, flicking a few switches before sitting down.\n\nCarson groaned, \"Yeah...I got it.\"\n\nKendal tackled the duct hose, squeezing both his arms and legs around it, trying to constrict it into submission. The steam sputtered to a cough, but continued to buck him around. Carson got up and went over to help, when the hose banged Kendal into the wall. His leg grip loosened, blasting another steam plume at the Captain, this time at his legs. Carson was upended and face planted onto the smooth floor.\n\nThe steam snake was not done yet, rocketing Kendal into the ceiling. Kendal got wedged in-between the metal ceiling and the hose that didn't want to quit. The steam blew up his nose, making him cough. He lifted the hose up above his head, along the ceiling and he heard a click. The steam stopped and he could hear it being funneled through conduit.\n\nHe let go of the hose and was suspended by his shirt that was caught on something sharp before it gave way. Kendal fell on something soft, the Captain. \n\n\"Kendal...Why?\" Carson groaned.\n\nKendal rolled off Carson, \"Sorry sir.\" \n\nKendal helped his Captain up. Carson's back cracked a few times until he stood straight up. \n\n\"Hyperdrive is ready.\" Tenso said.\n\n\"Punch it. Before the Ecorians realize we aren't sitting ducks anymore.\" Carson ordered.\n\nTenso clicked the button at the same time an Ecorian fighter pulled in front to face them. It was basically an egg with thin wings on each side that held twin laser cannons below. The fighter kept getting closer with every second.\n\n\"Is he going to ram us?\" Carson said.\n\n\"Um...I think we are going to ram him.\" Tenso said.\n\n\"Cancel the hyperdrive. Don't run through him.\"\n\nTenso mashed the same button over and over, nothing changed.\n\n\"I can't stop it.\"\n\n\"Brace for impact!\" Carson yelled.\n\nKendal held on to Tenso's console. The words of his previous commander filled his head...at least the ones that hurt the most, \"If you just followed my orders, I could've protected you.\" Kendal closed his eyes, preparing to meet his fate. Their ship crashed into the fighter like a hammer to styrofoam. The fighter splintered in half, sending pieces everywhere into space. The pilot's blood smeared on the glass.\n\nThe crew looked at each other, shocked that they were still alive. Kendal opened his eyes to see the blood smeared over the glass.\n\n\"We're alive!\" Yala said.\n\n\"Those Ecorians must make their ships out of tin.\" Zenith said. \n\nThe crew laughed while Carson looked back at the stain on his window. The crimson smear marked the ship like a bad omen waiting to be awakened. He pointed at it and turned to Kendal, \"Kendal. You got one more mess to clean up.\"\n\n\"I'm sure it won't be the last.\" Kendal said.\n\nRonny peaked out from underneath the console and threw up upon seeing the blood outside.\n\n\"Now you got two messes. Aren't you glad you are stuck here with us?\"\n\nKendal smiled. He was happy. Not about the chunky green sludge on the floor, but the crew he was with. They made what was supposed to be a punishment, a blessing. And an opportunity." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: 200 years have passed since the bombs fell. You are watching through a window, as a familiar voice coming from behind you calls you over: \"It is time\"." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The landscape was dark, the sky was finally clear after so many years of seeing gray clouds. The time was midnight, and for the first time since the Obliteration, people were seeing the night sky. The moon was, for lack of a better word, radiant with light and untouched by the issues of the past which had taken the Earth's innocence and crushed it. Earth had once been a fertile speck in the universe, harboring the most diverse life in it, and that life had all but exterminated itself. Luckily, humans were crafty enough to survive by adopting the ways of moles and burrowing deep into the crust. All they had that connected them to the civilizations of the past were small windows at the top of the burrows that people glanced at from time to time. Usually, all they yielded was a gray picture of the sky or a black picture of nothing. However, that changed one night.\n\n\"Alex, stop, We need to get back to our foxholes before the guards lock up for the night and we're stuck up here,\" she whispered, unaware they were already locked up in the observation room.\n\n\"I just want a few more kisses,\" he replied.\n\n\"Too bad, we need to get ou- shit! Was that what I think it was?\"\n\n\"Yeah, it was. Fuck. We're so fucked Elyse,\" said Alex, his calm facade melting away into a mild panic. \"They've already probably realized we're gone, and this is our fourth time, which means we're out! Fuck me. Elyse? What are you looking at?\" Alex asked her, noticing how her mouth agape and eyes distracted.\n\n\"Alex..\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Look up.\"\n\nFearing the worst, he slowly tilted his head up towards the window, expecting to see something absolutely terrifying, as anyone caught out after curfew was swiftly dealt with. This was to keep people in line, for having people who felt they could break a rule was not conducive to a functioning society. His fears turned into astonishment, and he took was encapsulated by what was happening.\n\nSwiftly and silently, the black picture was fading into points of light, straight out of the science-fiction books Alex and Elyse read together in the caves. At least, they thought it was science-fiction. Bright balls of gas that emitted light bright enough to be seen from the ground? Preposterous, they thought. Stars were impossibly big, impossibly bright, and all around improbable. However, now their world was being turned upside down, and they saw only a fraction of what the sky had to offer.\n\n\"What is that big one?\" Elyse asked, \"It looks like what our books called \"The Moon.\"\n\n\"I was just about to say that, Elyse. I think there is a lot we don't know.\"\n\n\"You couldn't be more right,\" Elyse replied.\n\n\"It is time,\" said a woman behind the kids.\n\n\"Holy shit!\" Exclaimed Alex, Elyse shrieking.\n\n\"Calm down, it's only Meemaw. I need you two to listen closely, you hear?\"\n\n\"Yes, ma'am,\" they replied in unison. Respecting authority was another cardinal rule all had to obey.\n\n\"Alex, Elyse, almost everything you know is wrong, but you know that by now.\" Moving as quick as an old lady could, she dropped two bookbags with survival supplies scavenged from the Groundquarters, labeled with the kids' names. \"You kids need to know one thing. Outside, while dangerous, is the safest place you'll be going. Look to the sky, find a star patterned like a pot, and follow where it points exactly. You'll find everything you need.\"\n\n\"Meemaw,\" inquired Alex, \"Will we ever see you again?\"\n\nIf time is on your side, maybe, but you must move quick, for there is only so much you have before the doors close.\"\n\n\"What doo-\" Elyse started before she was cut off by the hissing of hydraulics. The window was opening, and the observation deck was rising. Meemaw stepped into a shadow and promptly vanished, leaving the kids themselves. The deck rose to where the window was, and stopped, leaving them in the cool, night air of what was once Yellowstone National Park, now a desert. On the horizon, opposite the direction they were supposed to go, lights were moving towards them. The other way, just a little bit closer, a huge building loomed, almost reminiscent of a stadium. Suddenly, a shot rang out, from the direction of the lights, and Alex was dead." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 600-700 words. Prompt: Wherever you go a fog follows you. The thicker it becomes the more strange things happen and things appear in the fog taking people. If you leave it will catch up eventually. Exhausted running you fall asleep in public and are arrested for vagrancy in a small town." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Hey buddy, wake up.”\n\nYou jolt awake, the morning sun had just crested the buildings and trees surrounding the little park you crashed in. To your left the officer is asking you questions but you’re more concerned about taking in the area swiftly. To your dismay, you can see the fog has already began to descend. You overslept, and it’s found you.\n\n“Hey, do you understand me, you can’t sleep here,” the officer continues and pulls you back into the moment.\n\n“Ah where am I?”\n\n“Are you alright?” He responds helpfully as the buildings on the edge of the park are swallowed into the cloud.\n\n“You gotta get out of here, you have to run!” You move to walk past the officer as the fog looms around you, the sun almost seems to get shut off like a nightlight as the deep mist blankets the park. The cop grabs you by the arm,\n\n“No no no, hang on what are you talking about? What’s going on?” He barks, and you are about to respond until suddenly you can only watch in horror as a slimy, grey coloured tentacle whips its way from the obscuring mist, wrap itself around the officer’s head, and begins to retract.\n\nThe officer’s hand still wrapped tightly around your wrist, the other clawing at the attacking appendage screaming in as much as they could with the tentacle wrapped over their face. You scream in response and attempt to wrench the officer’s hand from your arm as they struggle and grab onto you anew in the vain hope you’re going to help them. As the two of you are slowly drug deeper into the fog, another tentacle wraps itself around the officer’s leg and they scream muffled again and are lifted up, you feel your feet start to leave the ground, you can see what almost looks like a toothy black hole open in the darkness. You raise a fiat and slake it into the cops wrist and they release you in pain.\n\nYou drop to the ground as the muffled screaming is replaced with the sickening crunch of bone and squish of viscera you can’t see in the dense fog. You scamper to your feet and take off in what you assume is out of the park nearly running headlong into buildings, trees, and soon cars as you make your way into a roadway. The sounds of screams begin to fill the air as the fog blankets the town. They followed you here, to these people, now they would soon be dead too. A car whizzes past you, the driver noticing you and turning sharply and disappearing back into the mists before the sound of it crashing into a nearby building is heard. You need to leave. You need to run. Then it has you.\n\nA tentacle wraps itself around your ankle, you barley have time to realize before you are yanked hard from your feet. You had run so far, avoided them for so long. As another tentacle wraps around your arm and begins to lift you, you almost feel at peace. Finally you’re close enough to see the creature as it’s maw opens to swallow you whole. It’s skin, grey and lacking seemingly any sort of protection, the mists it shrouds in is perhaps its defence. It looks at you with one great eye directly over the maw, brown, and as large as a spotlight, perfect for seeing through the mists. Does it recognize you? Does it realize that it’s hunt for you is finally at an end? Why do you almost feel kinship? These questions are the last on your mind as it drops you into it’s waiting mouth and you realize, finally you can rest." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1300-1400 words. Prompt: You believed the parasite that has latched onto your brain stem would kill you. Imagine your shock when it turns out said parasite actually straight up makes you physically better." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The two old friends sat on that bench in front of the lake and watched the skaters dance and fall.\n\nBenny hadn’t seen Tyler in years. Not since before Tyler’s divorce, and that wasn’t so long after college had finished. They’d played baseball together back then, been pretty good friends, but not the type of friends to stay in touch should anything inconvenient get in the way.\n\nNow they‘d bumped into each other at the winter market and decided to go to the lake to talk a little more, to catch up. Benny held a beer in a gloved hand and sipped it every now and then. He had more beers in a paper bag at his feet. He’d offered them but Tyler hadn’t wanted a drink.\n\nBenny said, “So this thing, this parasite, it’s still in your head?”\n\nTyler nodded. “Yup. Still there.”\n\n”Any idea what it looks like?”\n\n“Something like a worm, doctors tell me. I never thought of it that way until they told me, but there you go.“\n\n”A worm. Unreal.“ Benny shook his head. “And they can’t get it out?”\n\n”Maybe they could,” said Tyler. “Thing is, its wound around the different parts of my brain and latched itself deep — right down into the primal area. They could do surgery and try to kill it or remove it, but they say it’s not growing so if I can live with it in my head then I should probably just keep it there.”\n\n”It’s not growing? Not found enough food in that thick old head of yours, huh?” Benny raised his brows and laughed. It was the kind of joke he could have made back when they’d been friends but now, a dozen years later, it felt dated.\n\nNo, they were still friends. Just not as close as they’d once been.\n\n“Thing about parasites is they don’t want to kill their host,” Tyler explained. “The smart ones don’t, at least. Because when the host dies, it’s very likely they die too. No more easy energy for them.”\n\nBenny took a swig of beer and stared out over the lake. “Huh.”\n\nLast week, a single sheet of ice covered the lake in front of them and yet no one had been allowed to skate. Back then, a crack had spidered down the center of the sheet and people were worried it might split proper any moment. Both sides of the ice had barely been holding on, like hands growing tired, until eventually they’d slipped away from each other.\n\nMore cracks had crept through the left ice sheet after that, until it was a handful of unsafe islands. The right sheet, however, had been deemed strong enough to skate on. As if letting go of the other sheet had helped it regain its strength. And now kids and parents in red hats and with steaming breath priouetted the circuit.\n\n“It’s been a long while,” said Benny. “Since I last saw you out.”\n\n”I couldn’t bring myself to go out much after Sue left.”\n\nBenny felt a flush of heat even in the cold wind. Not that the marriage breaking down was his fault, but maybe he should have checked on his friend more than he had done — his friend who had fallen out of their social circle as suddenly as if he’d fallen down a well.\n\nThey’d all known what had happened. That she took their kid, too.\n\n”It’s good that you can be out again, now. And you look the picture of health. You look better than when we was playing baseball. Not an ounce of fat on you.”\n\nSilence, for a time. Then Tyler said, “It’s the parasite.”\n\n”What? It’s eating your fat?”\n\n”I must have gotten it from a food delivery. I got a lot of those during the years after they left. I’d get them to leave it in the porch so they didn‘t have to look at me. I looked like a bloated, sweaty moon and I didn’t want anyone to see me. Honestly, I despised myself.”\n\nThere was that heat again on Benny’s cheeks. But he was thinking of his own wife now and he wasn’t sure why. Him and his wife, they spent less time together since they’d had kids. It was tough, they were both tired. Arguments could rise up like mist, from nothing, no one’s fault. The fog’d eventually dissipate but it’d leave a cold dampness clinging to them both for a long time after.\n\n“Then one day I wake up,” Tyler continued, ”and it’s as if I hear something talking right to my brain. As if there’s someone else in there — although I didn’t know what, at that point. Hey, it says. Hey, pal, we got to do something about this situation we’re in. This won’t work for either of us. Not in the long term.”\n\nBenny didn’t know what to say. It was hyperbole, sure, but it was still an odd thing to say. A parasite talking to you.\n\n”I order food later that day, Chinese — my favorite — and it gets there, sitting on the porch, the smell wafting into the house. And suddenly, I feel repulsed. I can’t eat it. I manage to get it in the kitchen and I know it looks good, and yet I’m seeing what might as well be boxes of mold.“\n\n”That’s… That’s something,” said Benny.\n\n”But I’m thirsty. I drink a lot of water.”\n\n”You didn’t eat?”\n\n”Not for maybe three days. I’ve tried a bunch of different takeout options by that point, but they all revolt me. So I dig out a pair of shoes and I go to the market. I figure I need to find something I can eat. Only thing I can stomach even looking at is veg and fruit.”\n\n”Veg and fruit?”\n\n”So that’s my diet for a long time. I lose a lot of weight, as if I’ve shedded my old skin, and out I step. Literally, out I step. I started coming out more often. Walking. Watching the lake, hiking the hills — all alone, mind you. And at night, for the first time since she left, I slept properly. There was a soothing voice in my head saying it was going to be okay. It was alright, things happened, mistakes happened. It was okay.”\n\nBenny laughed but it wasn’t much of a laugh. “So a parasite moves into your head and tells you it’s all okay, and it really is okay. It becomes okay.”\n\n”Right. Sometimes, maybe, that’s all you need. A friend, of sorts. Someone to tell you that life goes on. That it’s okay, just look after yourself and the clouds will pass.”\n\nBenny finished his beer and crumpled the can. He watched the ice, saw the little unsafe islands that had shrunk since even yesterday. Felt a warm heat again; he didn’t like them shrinking.\n\n“Well,” said Tyler. “I best get moving.”\n\n”Same. Wife and kids, they’ll be wondering where Pa is.”\n\n”I got another scan later. Lot of doctors interested in me these days.”\n\n”Sounds like a pain.”\n\n”It’s not so bad.”\n\n”We should do this again sometime,” said Benny. He’d blurted it out, almost desperate, and he didn’t know why. He thought he wanted to say something else but that’s what had come out.\n\nTyler smiled, got up, and walked towards the car park, leaving Benny and his bag of beers to watch over the lake.\n\nBenny wasn’t ready to go home yet. He wanted to but wasn’t ready. There was a clear view of the lake here, no fog at all.\n\nHe looked at the ice and wondered just when exactly the first big crack had appeared. He wondered if anyone had known which side of the ice would survive. How would you judge such a thing?\n\nHe wondered about the parasite in his friend’s head, too. Maybe it wasn’t what had caused Tyler’s changes after all. Maybe Tyler had decided — even if subconsciously — that he needed to make urgent changes to his life, before his life ended early. His body or mind, or a combination of both, had reached breaking point and rebelled.\n\nMaybe that’s all it was.\n\nBenny took another beer out and cracked it open." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: You have trained your entire life in the ways of the katana. You may not be the strongest, but your speed is LEGENDARY. Finally, the day comes for you to be given the sacred sword to slay the Horror Lord.....and it's a zweihander you can barely swing." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The world was on fire. Barbarians were at the gate. The Horror Lord was close to absolute supremacy and the world looked to it's last hope, the one to whom the sacred sword would finally be revealed. The only sword that could vanquish the Horror Lord\n\nThey had trained diligently for the majority of their years. While others were out living their lives, going to work, partying, they had studied the blade.\n\nWhile others had lived their lives care free and having premarital sex, they had mastered the blockchain to allow their wealth to grow so that they could support themselves and devote their lives to the blade\n\nThey were unassuming and without vanity. Others wasted their days in the gym, while they had cultivated inner strength.\n\nThe katana they wielded was like an extension of their arm. Their speed with the blade was legendary. An opponent could be literally disarmed before anyone could see they had drawn their blade.\n\nWell, theoretically at least. They had not yet engaged in any real sword combat where death was on the line. The were confident in their abilities though. Their sensei had said they were their most advanced student after all.\n\nThey now stood in the sacred temple where the sacred sword lay. No one had seen it, much yet wielded it in millennia, and it had passed into legend to most people. All that was known was that in time of need, a hero would appear and could be able to use their swift speed to free the blade. Those who were not fast enough would fall to the defenses of the temple, as evidenced by the few bodies that surrounded the pedestal where the sacred sword lay hidden.\n\nAs legend told, all one had to do was slash through the invisible bonds that secured the cover to the sacred sword. If one was fast enough, they would be cut and the cover would rise revealing the sword. If one was too slow, the bonds would block the cut and invisible defenses would be triggered.\n\nThis was the moment, this was what they had dedicated their lives to. They had forsaken all worldly pleasures to be the hero the world needed. They would free the sacred sword, the only weapon the Horror Lord could not defend against.\n\nThey steeled themselves, to draw on their inner strength. They needed to be faster than they had ever been before. They needed slash at the bonds at the speed of thought. They would only get one chance, to fail was to die.\n\nTheir sword sang as it slashed. To them it was as if in slow motion, to any observer it was if they immediately switch positions. A loud thunk sounded and hidden mechanisms activated, The had done it. They had freed the sacred blade. The cover began to rise and a holy light began to shine as the cover began to rise.\n\nThey were momentarily blinded by the glory of the blade, but when they finally beheld it, the let out an exclamation.\n\n\"Fuck me\" they said.\n\nThe blade that lay before them was a giant zweihander, a sword that required two hands and great strength to properly wield. Their katana usually only required one hand to wield and was very light. They had cut the sacred bonds with their katana with a one handed slice after all, but this beast of a sword would require both hands to be able to control it.\n\nJust then the temple shook and a mystical portal opened. The Horror Lord steped through. The menace that surrounded him was palpable. A dark aura surrounded him and his eyes glowed with the fires of hell. \"You are the one. Not even I could free the sacred sword, but you have done it. Congratulations 'hero'. Claim your prize and strike me down. If you can.\"\n\nThey sheathed their katana and reached for the sword while the Horror Lord watched. Both hands grasped the hilt, and a sense of holy power could be felt. They lifted the sword and it immediately dropped to their side. It was very heavy.\n\nThe Horror Lord looked and smiled as he watched them struggle with the blade. \"Can't lift it? I thought you were the master of the blade? You're no hero, you're just some weeaboo with some mall ninja shit katana. Come on! Raise that sword and strike me down! Only that sword can defeat me, use it now or this world will burn to a cinder.\n\nThey couldn't. They had not the strength to raise the sword to a defensive position, much less less use it offensively.\n\nA blast came from the Horror Lord's eyes. A blast that the sacred sword would have easily blocked. Instead, the 'hero' was blasted and fell crumbling to ash, their katana with them. The sacred sword fell to the ground, it's radiant light dimming.\n\nThe soul of the hero however, lingered, allowing them to view the moments after.\n\nThe minions of the Horror Lord appeared and a mighty triumphant cry went up in celebration. The day was theirs. Victory was secured now that the Horror Lord could take the sacred sword for his own.\n\nWhat Horror Lord and his minions did not see in their celebrations was another figure enter the temple. One that stealthily made their way to the sacred sword, and easily lifted it. The muscles in their arm tensed as they held the sword as they had seen in that old movie Conan the Barbarian. \"Cool sword bro.\" The glow of the sword grew once again as powerful arms and a strong core used the sword to slash and strike down the Horror Lord easily.\n\nThe Horror Lord cried out as holy flames enveloped him. Vanquished, his minions screamed in agony and they too were taken by the flame.\n\nHe left the temple to be greeted by adoring throngs. The light of the sword immediately began to heal the ravaged world as the people cried out his name. A beautiful woman came to him and looked lovingly into his eyes as the embraced and then kissed passionately.\n\nAs the hero's soul ascended, the last sounds it heard were of the crowd shouting it's true hero's name.\n\n\"CHAD! CHAD! CHAD! CHAD!\"\n\nThe soul's last thought as it joined eternity was this. \"Fucking gym bro.\"" } ]