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BintangFortuna

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Bintang Fortuna 2

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: Aliens have come across one of the Pioneer spacecrafts and have tried using the map to trace it back to its origin. However, there is some debate on whether or not this is the right solar system, as the plaque shows 9 planets, but this one only has 8 according to the inhabitants of the 3rd plan" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "ENTERING STANDARD SPACE IN 60 SECONDS\n\nAdmiral Kayhill looked anxiously across the screens on the bridge. He didn’t like this at all. Instead of the flood of information about the exit pointing showing he was presented with darkness on the screens. \n\nThe Fifth fleet were responding to the strangest call Kayhill had ever heard. Not only were the Dray-Ki requesting support (the Dray-Ki didn’t really do mundane things like having allies) but had requested them to arrive in sleuth mode. No Active Weapons. Heatsinks disabled and only passive sensors were allowed. Communication would be done solely by short distance Masers. Hell Kayhill had to order a team to find a way to disable the Running lights of his fleet. \n\nKayhill pressed a button on his console opening up a broadcast to the rest of his fleet\n\n“Captains, I’m sure you share my distrust of the Dray-ki but lets not start a war simply because we think this is a trap. Follow your orders and ensure you’re compliant. Before exit fire up your reactors and have all units at battle stations. We fear this is a trap but NOONE, repeat NOONE is to break the Dray-Ki rules until i give the word. \n\nThere is to be no further communication on this channel until i say” \n\n“Admiral Kayhill - Out”  \n\nENTERING STANDARD SPACE\n\nEven after 80 years of flying the jump still shocks the system. Kayhill steadied himself against his console as passive sensors begin to fill the screens with data. He could make out the Dray-ki ships only by the stars they blocked out. \n\nHe couldn’t be sure but it seemed there must of been hundreds of ships at least, leaving the fifth fleet severely outnumbered. \n\n“Sir we’re receiving a maser link” \n\n“Accept it” \n\n“Admiral Kayhill” an image of a Dray-Ki appeared on the screen. He had the standard markings of a high ranking Dray-ki officer tattooed to his skin\n\n“I am Commodore Yur-fin, we are grateful for your support” \n\n“We’re glad to assist you in..” Kayhill still didn’t understand why exactly they were here. \"whatever this situation is” \n\n“we are grateful, forgive me for keeping you in the dark but when you know what we’re facing i’m sure you’ll understand” \n\nKayhill took a step back. Was that fear in Yur-fin’s voice? The dray-ki were one of the fiercest and most advanced species documented in the galaxy. What could possibly scare them?\n\n“What exactly is it you need commodore?” \n\n“We’d rather discuss this in person, we don’t believe this channel is secure - do we have permission to board the ray?” \n\nKayhill was not liking this at all, Masers were theatrically impossible to intercept except by physically blocking the beam. If this threat could intercept masers virtually then what weapons would they process” \n\n“You and an entourage are granted permission. We request you come unarmed.”\n\nA small ding rang around the ship. the dray-ki were using a grapple to get onboard the Ray, they weren’t risking the radiation from engines being detected. \n\nIt took a few minutes to arrive but eventually they met in the Ray’s state room. The screens were lit up with scans provided by the Dray-Ki. \n\nThey were approxmiily 0.1AU outside of a large asteroid belt on the edge of the solar system. The System appeared to contain 8 planets with a few asteroid belts. The data showed a single habitable planet as well as another with evidence of extinct life. One of the dray-ki opened a large chest and presented a tablet like piece of metal with crude engravings. On of the fleets men quickly hooked up a device to present the tablet on the main screen. \n\n“Gentleman” \n\nOne of the elderly dray-ki rose, his markings distinguished him as royalty\n\n\"I am Emperor Gu-fo-sha-lin of Dray-ki, Protecter of the nine systems and commander of Drahs hammer. It is with great shame i ask for your assistance but i truly believe we now face the biggest threat our galaxy as ever seen.” \n\nAs you can see we discovered this ship. Upon investigating we released this was a map leading us here. as you can see the planets drawn here match what we can see-“\n\n“there’s only eight planets in this system” Kayhill cut across, He still couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a trap. Whilst relations had been peaceful for decades he still didn’t trust the Dray-ki.\n\n“exactly. there are now only 8 planets in this system. The Ninth planet should be where we are now, instead theres an asteroid belt” \n\nA deathly slience gripped the room as the commanders and assembled diplomatic teams realised what was being said. \n\nafter what felt like an eternity  later the emperor continued to speak “Not only do we know this species has the power to destroy a large planet. We believe they are targeting us next. A new vessel has been spotted launching from the blue planet. It’s vector is heading straight for our flagship. \n\nWe don’t know know how they spotted us or what weapons they are using. We were hoping you could help us… contain them” \n\nAnother screen lit up to display a feed of a small rocket launching from the surface of the planet. Albeit a tiny vessel by any standard it struck fear into the species in the state room\n\n(to be continued (and possibly rewritten a bit))" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You have the power to lucid dream and fully control your experience. Every night is an amazing experience. One night you stumble upon a strange girl in your dream, that you have no control over. \"I'm being chased,\" she says. \"This was the only place where they wouldn't find me.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I was hunting that night, in the deep wilds of Andregar. With flecks of Martin and Tolkein, but largely inspired by my long history as a Dungeon Master, Andregar was easily my favorite creation, and the dreamscape I most consistently returned to. Most often, I dreamt myself an adventurer, but that night I was a lord, leading his entourage in pursuit of a massive, vicious stag. I found a different quarry.\n\nWhen the girl stumbled out of the woods into my charger's path, my first thought was to dismiss her. With blonde hair that was stringy and caked with dirt, a body swaddled in the thinnest of rags, I figured her for an outlaw's bastard child and the distraction was unwanted. When I tried to erase her, however, the thought refused to come. It was as if I couldn't imagine this world without her presence.\n\nInstead, I halted my steed, and revoked my entourage, who melted into non-existence as simply as ever. The girl approached demurely, stared up with huge, sunken eyes and croaked: \"I'm being chased. This was the only place they wouldn't find me.\"\n\n\"Who are they? For that matter, who are you?\"\n\nIn lieu of a response, she teetered to the side and collapsed, unable to support her emaciated frame any longer. I must admit here that I am not generally empathetic to the inhabitants in my dream. Perhaps its a lack of empathy or a form of masochism, but I see them as mere outgrowths of imagination, rather than fully-fledged beings, no matter how realistic they seem. Yet that eve, I took her in my arms, and interrupted Andregar to will her into a dream of a state-of-the-art hospital.\n\nI stayed by the girl's side while she slept in a soft, safe bed. Watching over her, I noticed a further peculiarity. Not only was I wholly unable to modify her, but her presence had its own effect. A vague aura of distortion emanated from her slumbering body, rippling and twisting space up to an inch away from her skin. Like the child herself, the ripples were unalterable.\n\nShe woke coughing, a harsh fit that jolted out of unconsciousness. As she recovered from this attack, she noticed my presence and a wan smile stretched her waxy lips. \"I knew you would stay with me.\" she whispered, \"Thank you.\"\n\n\"I... you're welcome. Look, I don't want to worry you, Lord knows you've probably been through enough, but if you're being chased, I need to know exactly what it is. Believe me, in here, I'm strong enough to stop anything.\"\n\nHer smile brightened a little. \"You already did. I thought I was the only one, but you're much stronger than me.\"\n\n\"I don't get it,\" I mumbled, but before she could continue, a doctor interrupted, pulling me aside. He showed me a chart of the injuries on her body, explained the probable cause, and suddenly everything snapped together.\n\nI returned to her bedside, and gently took her hand in mine. \"No need to look so worried, sunshine,\" I reassured, \"you can't manifest anything here, can you? All that awfulness festering in the depths of your mind can damn well rot there. You're safe.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You wake up everyday in a different body. It’s all you know and you really hate it, so you wish that you could be returned to your original body. Then one day you wake up and realize... you’re in the NICU." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I woke up again this morning in a new bed, and in a new place. It has been 13 hours since I was in this body. It has been happening for a very long time now. I just wake up every day, in a new place, as a new person. I don’t really remember when it started, why it started, if it is only me, or there are people out there going through the same thing. I wish it would just end so I can go back and be myself, and to be honest, I have even forgotten who I was or where I was. If I even exist. Well, this does end every night when I go to sleep, but I just wake up in a new place and no matter how hard I try, I just cannot stay awake. I have stopped fighting the system and given up.\n\n‘Jessica…dinner’ yelled my mother for a day from downstairs\n\n‘Aye fuck you oldie. Feed it to the bitch of a queen you got there’ I yelled back in the manliest voice. Today I am not in a mood to play ball, I am very grumpy.\n\n‘Is everything aight my love, jess?’ asked my new dad\n\n‘The baby fell out of my vagina and is refusing to go back in, might name him Jesus or King George the 69’\n\nI hear a thud. Maybe somebody fainted downstairs. As if I care who that was and if that person is alive or not.\n\nToday I was Jessica and a British, a girl who was very sincere, always listened to their parents. I fucked her life royally today. It is like when in GTA, you just let go of the mission and just wanna have fun. I did that today. I crave sometimes to be a guy. My actual soul is male, but mostly I end up female. I sometimes think that I might have died and now am a ghost soul just walking around and somehow capturing a new body every nigh… OH FUCK…Cramps. I see that my periods have started. This is just…just the worst day for me. I might smear blood around the room for the real Jessica to deal with.\n\nI always go through texts, diaries, social media pages of whoever I am to make sure that I don’t call my brother as my boyfriend and get handy with him on the dinner table. Today, I did the latter on purpose. I am just now tired of these brand new lives daily. Someday a girl in Japan, or a guy in Pakistan, or a minister of India, or a hungry child from the Sahara desert. I just can’t anymore. I do my best to make the most of the situation. Have some fun. Fuck around. Go to sleep and be in a new life to mess again with.\n\nI look around before I go to sleep. Not sure what tomorrow has for me. I might kill myself very soon if this doesn’t end. It was fun at the beginning but now I just wanna go home.\n\nI wake up again, but this time something different happens. I feel like I know this body, this is mine, this is me, was this nightmare? Where am I? I look around to see a very small incubator, a few nurses and doctors happily running towards and around me. I paid closer attention to what they were talking about. One nurse said ‘This is a miracle. The baby flat-lined few minutes before and is now back to life’ the other nurse said crying ‘we need to inform his mother sitting outside that their baby is alive and safe’\n\nI tried to say thank you, but all I could do was giggle." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: An immortal meets a time traveller... over and over again." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Earth 2250.\n\nThe first time I still didn't know I was immortal.\n\nI was just a soldier marching with my king Leônidas. We meet those Persians and I died for the first time trying to flee from battle in great dishonor.\n\nI saw him, pale white with golden hair just watching the battle dressed like a Persian noble as the battle unfolds and I meet my demise.\n\nOne day later I woke up I used my sword to fight against the Persians to retrieve my king's body.\n\nThis was my second death.\n\nI was banned from return and roomed the world.\n\nI returned to serve under Alexander who someone said was great, not so tall after I meet him, but a great general, then I saw him again, in Gaugamela. This time he was dressed like a Macedonian nobleman. We finally defetead the Persians.\n\nAgain he just watched.\n\nIn the battle of Corinth I saw him again, this time in the side of the Romans?\n\nIf he wasn't a Immortal, maybe he was a good, he always on the side that win the battles.\n\nAnd Greece fell.\n\nAfter many years I decided to fight together with the Caesar and again I saw him, Alesia was the place and he was dressed like a Roman officer.\n\nI knew we would win the moment I saw him, I died three times on this battle, while him just watched, arrows and swords didn't touch him.\n\nWhen our great Caesar crossed the Rubicon he was there again and in the Senate chambers after that treason.\n\nWhen Augustus took his revenge he was there watching.\n\nAgain when we defeat Cleopatra.\n\nI didn't see him again until we killed someone who worship the wrong God, Paul was his name.\n\nCenturies passed I was living in Mecca when I saw him again, dressed like a Muslim, I knew what that means and left. Mecca fell as I theorized.\n\nCenturies have passed and I decided to travel the world when I had the chance of talk with him for the first time.\n\nWe both are in a ship trying to get to the Indians and ended in a new continent, this time I took the courage to ask him if he was a God and if I was punished because I commit a sin of leaving the battle.\n\nHe looked confused and told me he didn't know what I was talking about.\n\nI knew he was lying and he knew I knew.\n\nThe next time I meet him I was living close To Gettysburg I saw him pass he nodded to me acknowledging my existence for the first time.\n\nLike before he was riding to battle in the winning side.\n\nThen the great War come upon us.\n\nThis was the first time I thought I would die, so much death, so much horror. It was in Battle of Meuse that I knew we would win, this time he talked to me and asked how I was doing.\n\nHe told me that he couldn't talk what will happen in the future, but told me to move from the USA if I didn't want to fight again.\n\nThe war to end all wars was my reply. For the first time I saw him sad.\n\nOh boy I should have listened, I saw so much death on that beach just a few years after that. But I saw him again and knew we would win in the end. I couldn't even count how many times I died and waked up on that war. But almost Everytime he was there.\n\nLuckily I didn't go to the pacific he said.\n\nI didn't understood until the bombs dropped in Japan.\n\nWe meet again in the day the president was killed he told me to meet him on a bar in July 20, 1969 when the man reached the Moon he asked about my life and why I always in a battlefield.\n\nWe talked again in 2040 after Mars was reached, this time he told me would be the last time I would see him as young and now he would tell his story.\n\nThen I finally discovered that he wasn't a God, he was just a man coming back in time from 2040 onwards he would just get older and one day die.\n\nHe discovered time travel but decided that it was too dangerous to let anyone know about, he just decided to travel and see great things that happened and when he finally had enough he would destroy the machine.\n\n2040 was the year he did that.\n\n2105 was the year I have the last talk with my only friend.\n\nIt took me 145 years but I too discovered how to come back in time, now I could talk with him again and tell him of the great things I saw since he left.\n\nPS: since today is my birthday I will give me a break as a gift and fix the errors tomorrow." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Reincarnation is real, it shapes our society and how we live. Like a rite of passage, on everyone’s 25th birthday the knowledge & understanding of our past lives comes flooding back to us. You turned 25 a week ago, but you can't remember a damn thing..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I was shaking. I knew I was shaking.\n\nGasping for air, I tried to rid myself of the feeling that I was underwater, or buried alive, or stuck inside a television with a lost signal.\n\nIt had been like this every night for a week. No one knows what can be done, no one knows what to do, and for all of the times I wished that I would find out that I'm someone special, someone significant when I turned 25, I never considered this a possibility.\n\nI choked back a sob, fighting back my thoughts. \"You're nothing,\" they told me, \"you've never been anything.\"\n\nI sat up, knowing that couldn't be true. No.\n\nI'm a medical anomaly.\n\nEveryone I've ever known, everyone I've ever heard of, has looked forward to their 25th birthday. The day when you find out your purpose. When you find out who you are, who you've always been. It's what everything is based around. What you study, what your career becomes, who you love...and now for me, none of that will happen.\n\nHours after my birthday was over, I felt a sinking feeling. My family told me not to worry, what do a couple of hours mean?\n\n\"What does time mean anyway man?\" My brother had asked, \"it's a man made construct, I bet your body knows time way better than we do, I mean how can any of us be late when time was all because of past dudes?\" Clearly a thinker of the times.\n\nGods, I wish I could trade places with any of them just to rid myself of this agony for just a-\n\nA door slammed open to the right of where I was sitting and the usual gray haired doctor waddled in. She cleared her throat fixing me with the same steely look she gave me when I was first put in my veritable prison cell and every day since.\n\n\"What now,\" I spat at her before she could open her mouth.\n\n\"Mr. Anders,\" she spoke with an emotionless drawl, \"I would remind you that we have you here for your own safety, mentally and physically, and we would all appreciate your responses being a bit more...respectful, regarding your situation.\"\n\n\"A thousand pardons,\" I smirked, \"but I don't know if I'm a very respectful person, now do I?\"\n\nHer eye twitched a fraction for a fraction of a second before the same detached calm overtook her expression. \"I would suggest your full cooperation Mr.Anders, need I remind you that unless progress is made, we have clearance to take more drastic exploratory measures.\"\n\nAt this my mouth snapped shut.\n\nI knew. I knew all too well.\n\nMy family thought I was being taken to get help, hell, I thought I was too, but after spending days submitting myself to test after test, being drugged, and waking up to a constricting emptiness and white walls every day, I know better.\n\nI know nothing, I have no memories, and to them, I'm less than a person. I'm a guinea pig.\n\nFear gripped me as doctor grey hair walked around me, collecting vital information, extracting blood and whatever else she needed to do. Not that I knew. Not that I even wanted to know.\n\nShe was muttering under her breath and the door closed behind her and I unsteadily exhaled.\n\nWhy couldn't I remember. WHYwhywhywhywhywhy-\n\nMy thoughts trailed off as I felt my eyelids droop. Of course. She gave me something.\n\nAs my eyes closed I prayed that this time, this time I would remember.\n\nThis time, I wouldn't suffocate.\n\nThis time, I wouldn't be nothing." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: We always thought that dragons have a human form to blend in, but it’s actually kinda the opposite. They’re truly a type of lycan, and they just prefer their dragon form. With this information, you set forth to the dragon’s lair, planning on getting bit." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Why do you want to be like me? I have told you the struggles my people suffer from?” The age leaks into the old shape shifters voice, and you wonder just how long he has been alive. He was massive, so he must be old, far older than the great “dragons” in the history books that rose and fell with the age of knights. One of his teeth was the height of your body, or at least what you could see of them poking through his scaled lips.\n\nYour mouth is dry, and you wet your tongue before you begin, your heart beating in your chest. You needed this, like you needed air to breathe and food to eat. You wouldn’t leave here without this, one way or another.\n\n“Because.. no matter how bad it gets I’ll have the sky.” You confess, and you see the beings eyes widen before narrowing. “I’ll have the wind and wings and flight. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”\n\nIt was true. You had been born to a nephilim, and while you had inherented none of your Mother’s abilities, you had gained her love for the sky, for flight. You’d told her, once, of the heavy phantom wings that dragged your spine to the ground, unable to fly, and she’d combed her fingers through your hair, whispered gently that you would be able to fly, one day, but to be patient. Until then, she had taken you into her arms and flew, letting you revel in the sky and clouds.\n\n“What manner of creature are you?” He asks, tilting his head curiously. “I have been alive since the rise and fall of Rome, I saw Atlantis sink, but I have never seen something quite like you.”\n\n“I don’t know.” You confess. “I am a hybrid between a nephilim and a siren, created by a witch at the request of both. Nothing like me has existed before, and most likely, nothing ever will.”\n\nThey couldn’t, anymore, with the nephilim gone. With the witches in hiding and the sirens on the verge of joining your Mother’s kind in extinction. You remember the day your Mama had left, and you remember crying out how unfair it was. She had soothes you gently with her voice and glamor, and promised you a place among the sirens should you ever call to her.\n\n“I am sorry for your loss.” It is very clearly more than just for the loss of your Mama, and you accept it. There were few species that understood just how painful it was to be so long lived, to watched loved ones age and die. Dragons, or you supposed you should correct it to dragon shape shifters, were one of them.\n\n“Thank you. And I mourn yours.” His spine straightens and his eyes narrow, because there was nothing more sacred to sirens than mourning, to the keen of a lost sister. To mourn another’s loss was to honor their dead, to claim their loss as your own.\n\nIt was a bold move to make on a dragon, who were famously possessive. It was even bolder when he was eons older than you, and could most likely end your existence with fire or magic.\n\nA soft, rumbling chuckle fills the room, and he kneels, bringing his head closer to you. His breath is hot and heavy, and you stare up at him easily.\n\n“You are bold. I can respect that, hatchling. Cut you hand on my fang, and you will have the sky.”\n\nYou chose the sharpest, whitest fang you can, pressing until your palm bleeds crimson. He straightens as you are hit by a wave of pain, and dizziness, one massive hand curling around your form to carry you further into the cave.\n\nYour last thought before you black out is that it is warm, and you are safe, and the feeling was new after being without it for so long." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Emotions are now considered a form of currency" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The market wasn't buzzing yet, but it would be in just over an hour. I always make my way to the sunday farmer's market early to get the freshest exotic fruit. Artificial farming has been on the rise recently, allowing talented farmers to create their own hybrids, together with the perfect conditions to grow them. Many of them dabble in molecular gastronomy too, but mustard-paprika ice cream doesn't excite me as much as a guava-kumquat, or guquat, as Xian calls them. Xian promised he would bring in a new type for me to try, apparently a different variety of kumquat blends better with guava, making the fruit more juicy, and making the sour subtaste much more subtle. Xian also said he would have different colours... perhaps I'd get to finally achieve my life-long dream of ingesting a purple banana.\n\nHis stall isn't fully prepared yet... this can't be good. Xian is extremely punctual, as am I. As soon as he sees me, a gentle smile appears on his face, and he's quick to clear things up.\n\n\"Good morning, good morning! Beautiful day, isn't it? I'm running late today, I picked special guquats before I came here, but the stems are a lot more tough! How are you?\"\n\n\"Ah, Xian, you know, ups and downs. I've been in a bad mood all week as I had to give away all the reserved Joy I had for my broken car, and since I couldn't be as productive at work, I get less Joy in the end anyway. Woe is me, ha!\"\n\n\"It's strange, isn't it? My mother has been having trouble adapting to the system ever since it got introduced. We were born into it so it's fine, but my whole life all I hear is: I got no Joy, Joy used to be free! You couldn't buy happiness back in the day, son.\"\n\n\"Let's cut to the chase, I've a busy day ahead of me. You got those new guquats?\"\n\n\"Yes, here they are. I give you a whole box for 15 Joy.\"\n\nAnd so it began, the great haggle. I knew Xian would accept a lower offer in the end, he always did. I guess haggling was a standard tradition for us now, it was our style of making small talk, ending in mutual benefit.\n\n\"Look, Xian, I told you I'm down on Joy this week. Say I give you 10 Joy and throw in a whole heap of Woe, say 20? 10 Joy, 20 Woe. I got some spare Anger and Calm too, if you want.\"\n\n\"No no no! I have enough Woe myself, you know nobody wants that stuff, it keeps flowing into the market, almost completely worthless now! I could use some Calm. 13 Joy, 5 Calm?\"\n\n\"5 Calm? Ahh, Xian... look, I'll take them for 12 Joy, 3 Calm and 1 Anger.\"\n\n\"Anger? Why would I want Anger?\"\n\n\"It's good for you! You do things a lot quicker, it's a very energetic state.\"\n\n\"Fine, fine. You always win! You rip me off!\"\n\n\"Hey, it's a free market. Thanks, Xian.\"\n\n\"You have a nice day!\"\n\nI will. I hate Xian. He brought up his mother again, his beloved lab rat. Truth is, ever since the introduction of the Neurochemical Stimuli project, the world hasn't been the same. Or so they say. Apparently in the past, activities had an intrinsic emotion attached to them, earned and spent in the same instant. You could not feel Woe in bed with your lover, as you could not feel Joy at their funeral. Ever since this was taken from the world, it killed us. Now, we only work to earn more Joy, to be happy, happy when you wake up, happy when you eat, happy when you work, happy when you sleep. When the last person who has ever felt real emotion dies, so will humanity. Then, they will have transformed the population of the world into workers, when there is no real experience any more, when emotion is so detached from reality and abstract that it can be exchanged at will. I will not subject myself to this. At the bottom of the box, in a secret compartment, is my supply of B22 inhibitors for the week, fresh from Xian's laboratory. Things are real again. Now, I can feel." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: After a nuclear fallout society is rebuilt based on the life and morals of you and your life based on a journal you left behind. It becomes holy writ . You leave your bunker 10 years after this and view the society you unwittingly created." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Be gentle, I'm new.\n\n(Hit Tab and saved it, give me a few!! haha)\n\nI had been alone for so long, no contact from the other bunkers in at least, what I would guess was, two years. Time gets weird when you're alone. Complete radio silence and I was ready to embrace death because there was no way it could be worse than the loneliness that had been crushing me since I last heard from Chris. Food was running low and I had decided that dying from exposure was better than starving to death and drinking recycled urine. Blech!\n\nI opened the door to my, stupidly well fortified, bunker. What had I been thinking when I built this? Did I really want to survive this long back then if North Korea had managed to build a rocket that could actually reach the US? Or Putin thought that he could handle the fall out of an attack on the US? To be honest, I was shocked to find out that an IT error had resulted in the US launching active nuclear missiles at Canada, of all places and, that in their attempt to fix it meant the entire mid-west was effed. I booked to my bunker, sealed the door and five days later heard the first message from Chris. I was a mess but he got me through it. I realized, as I opened the door, that I never asked him enough about his life but too late for that now. I took a deep breath and pushed the vault open, ready to die.\n\nIt was beyond what I expected and there was absolutely no way I could have prepared myself for it.\n\nI walked out into Eden. Green. Green EVERYWHERE! It smelled like a dream from my childhood. I was lost in wonder for, well, I'm not sure how long. The expected barren wasteland was nowhere to be seen. I walked around and found apple trees and pears and pumpkins! I thought to myself \"Oh my GOD! I can actually, really live! Not just exist!\"\n\nWhile I wandered and munched on a fresh red apple I just reveled in the sun and the wind, completely oblivious to the rest of my surroundings, \"How long had I been down there? Twenty years? Thirty? I didn't have a mirror and only one calendar to the end of 2016. I tried keeping track but why bother? Sleep, eat, repeat. What was the point of knowing the day? Besides the fact that I could never remember which months had how many days besides February and even that changed if I wasn't paying attention.\" and I was suddenly aware of being watched. I turned around and saw the cutest little kid. A girl I think but I wasn't paying too much attention, I was just thrilled to see another person, who cares if they were three-ish years old? Reflexively I smiled and waved and they waved back. If there were people nearby I had to wonder why they hadn't banged on my door, at least, so I ran back to my bunker and saw the trees banking it and remembered planting them that last spring just in case of \"zombies\", I'm not a smart man. No one in the last few years would have guessed there was anything behind the maples but more maples.\n\nI ran back to where I had seen the little kid and there was nobody around. I was either losing my mind or already dead so why not wander around some more? I decided to head north for awhile and ran into a group of what I could only call, with my personal experience, a group of young hippies. They were, at the oldest, in their late teens or early 20's and I had been 30 when the warning came through, and as I walked into the clearing they all turned and smiled. I had never seen more people happy to see someone who was easily in their late 40's walk into their group. I saw the kid and they hid behind their parent after I waved. At least the kids hadn't changed!\n\nI was approached by a handsome young man, \"Hey!\" he had a strange mix of southern and mid-western accent but it was very easy to understand\n\nI wasn't prepared for English, my brain broke and I just stared at him.\n\n\"You okay?\"\n\n\"Uhhh\" Master of wit in full force.\n\nI passed out.\n\nThe next thing I saw was that same man as he slapped my face over and over yelling \"Wake-up!\"\n\nI grumbled something and sat up. The same group, with a LOT more children, were around me staring down.\n\n\"Uh, whaaa?\" yea, that was me.\n\n\"Who are you? Are you alright?\"\n\n\"I'm Matthew, I'm fine. In that order.\"\n\nA gasp rose from the group followed by, what I felt was, unnecessary murmuring.\n\n\"Who are you?\"\n\n\"Ugh! My name is Matthew.\" I'm not know for my patience, well, I wasn't anyway.\n\nMore murmurs. An adorable young woman walks up with a leather bound journal, one I recognized as my notebook I had used to rant about frustrations but talk myself through to optimism. I recognized it because I had some really low quality drawings all over the cover...\n\n\"You are him?!\"\n\n\"I, Uh, well, I'm me?\"\n\nThere was a roar of jubilation. \"You are he! The WRITER! THE TEACHER!\"\n\nEveryone began to chant, \"THE WRITER! THE TEACHER!\"\n\nI was completely lost. Who did they think I was so I had to ask, \"Who am I?\"\n\n\"You are the one!\" yells the man and he pulled me to my feet, \"You showed us what we need to be!\"\n\n\"What is that, exactly?\"\n\n\"We read what you wrote and we follow the most important!\" He turned to the group and yelled \"Don't be a dick but speak your mind! Sometimes all someone needs is a hug! It's okay to be sad! Jenna is a bitch!\" and the crowd cheered and I passed out again." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: You are a supervillain. The reason for this is to keep a certain hero alive, since if they don't get angry for a while, they die." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Short Circuit knew he was coming. She was planning on it, and was keeping track of his every move. Pulse had found what she had done, and was racing towards her \"secret\" lab. She looked at the results of her handiwork. Two of the most adorable children she had ever had the pleasure of seeing were sitting in a large glass tube.\n\nThe younger one, a girl name Kelly, sat brushing the hair of a doll. The older boy, Ted, was doodling in a coloring book.\n\n\"Ready positions.\" Short Circuit called. The lab came to life.\n\nThe kids looked up from their activities and set them on the padded floor of the tube. Small compartments opened up and the toy and art supplies dropped into a hidden compartment. The lights around the tube dimmed while those in the rest of the lab brightened. The overall effect was that the kids were shrouded in shadow.\n\nHer equipment picked up some of the whispered conversation the two had. Something about a game and Mommy and Daddy. She did not have time to go into greater detail about what they were saying. Pulse was crashing through the trapped and guarded halls leading to the central lab.\n\nThe villain checked a small device on her forearm A complex array of lights greeted her. Her powerful mind interpreted each one, although the only one that mattered was the one closest to her wrist. It was yellow. Not good enough. She needed it to be green.\n\nThe thick metal of the door screamed in protest as Pulse tore it from its housing.\n\n\"Circuit!\" He roared. Time to do her job.\n\n\"Hello, Pulse. So nice of you to join us.\" She taunted.\n\n\"Where are they? Where are my kids?\"\n\nShort Circuit held her finger to her lips in mock thought. \"Your kids? I'm not sure. Did you lose them?\"\n\nHis muscular form trembled as the anger really began to set in. A quick check on the light still showed yellow, although it was a different shade. Much more greenish. Not good enough, but getting there.\n\n\"You know damn well what I mean. Where are they?\"\n\n\"They aren't hurt. Here, you can see them for yourself.\"\n\nShe pressed a few lights on her forearm controller. The lights around the tube came on, revealing the children. They immediately began pounding on the tube and shouting for their Daddy. Kelly even began to cry. Short Circuit had to fight to not smile.\n\nPulse took a step towards them.\n\n\"Stop.\" The woman said. Her finger hovered over her controller. \"One more step and I flood the tube with poison gas. I wonder if your children inherited your resilience.\"\n\n\"You...you..you've gone too far. This is low, even for you. They aren't even eight yet.\"\n\n\"All's fair in love and war, Pulse. Now, are you ready to talk.\" Much more green in the light now.\n\n\"What...do...you...want?\" He growled.\n\n\"The same thing I always want. The world at my feet. Your head on a platter. You know, all those lovely super villain things that you tend to keep away from me. Well, now that changes, doesn't it? Surrender now and I'll think about letting your kids go.\"\n\nPulse looked from Short Circuit to his children and back again. She could see a vein begin to throb in his perfectly muscled neck. His breathing was getting heavier as well. She almost did not need to check the light. He just needed a single push.\n\n\"Or, well, maybe not.\" She purred. He froze, unable to speak. \"You see, I don't know if your kids got any of those powers you're so proud of. Once you're gone, nobody will be able to stop me. Oh sure, there's other super heroes around, but really, do you think they have any chance against me? No, the only credible threat to my inevitable rule is someone with your powers. Best to eliminate them before they develop, don't you think?\"\n\nThe light turned fully green. Pulse let out a roar of pure, unbridled rage. His body glowed red and all the energy he normally kept bottled up inside of him forced its way out. The tube shattered under the pressure, while Short Circuit activated her personal barrier. It was just in time too, as Pulse rocketed forward at speeds that would make a bullet jealous.\n\nFrom there, it was a straight out brawl. His rage fueled power verses her intelligence created tech. His rage made him ignore all the beams, chemical sprays and bladed weapons she sent at him, while the red energy surrounding his body turned all his already powerful attacks into blows that could cause earthquakes.\n\nIt soon became clear that she could not subdue him, and so it was time to make her escape. She maneuvered her way to one of the many trap doors she had around the lab. As she stood over one of them, she hit a single button on her controller. Her shield expanded with the force of an oncoming freight train. All it accomplished was to push him back and stoke the fires of his anger. It was all she needed.\n\n\"You win today, Pulse. But there will always be a next time.\" She said as she vanished into one of her escape routes.\n\nA moment later she emerged in a hidden observation room. She pulled off her circuitry laden mask and looked at the rows of monitors. She quickly saw the one that overlooked the lab. Pulse had calmed down and was hugging his children with tears in his eyes. The two youngsters clung to Daddy like adorable little monkeys.\n\nWhile the three of them were leaving, Short Circuit became removing her battle suit and putting on more normal attire. She had a few minutes to get ready and get home. More than enough time, considering all the tech she had built to do just that.\n\nShe had to be there to greet her husband and kids as they came home. She would have to remind her husband to let off a little steam. It was a rare medical condition that could kill him if he did not express a little anger every now and then, but they had a method. Of course, his involved video games, even though hers was a bit different.\n\nThe villain, now Mommy, smiled as she turned away from her \"secret\" lair. She let out a sigh. The things she did for love." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: The light flickered and danced, casting a hundred twisting shadows which writhed in wild ecstasy." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Queen Malvina is staring into the dancing flames, heart and mind asunder.\n\nOccasionally the pine wood will pop from the resinous sap, bursting in small sparks. Her thoughts are troubled. This is nothing new. A sovereign's time is not her own. She has thousands of souls to care for and lead. Taxes must be collected, the Royal Forest managed, the castle maintained and still a cure for her subjects must be found. But at least for tonight, those issues are of no importance. No. What is troubling her is of a more personal matter. It is something that has been troubling her for almost two years.\n\nA knock on her door yanks her from her brooding with a small yelp. Slowly, a smile crosses her face. Her worries locked away, she quickly tiptoes to the door and unlatches it. She opens to reveal the young man she expected. Warm gray eyes shine in the firelight. He is a hair below average height, with months of good food and exercise having hid the worst of his previously emaciated frame. A hunter's green broadcloth coat covers most of his red waistcoat. His longish hair is clubbed into a rough queue to keep it out of the way. The only thing he is fastidious about is having a clean shaven face. Four months of imprisonment without a razor has made him treasure the luxury. In his hands is a tray, on which is a dark green bottle and two brandy snifters. He raises the tray up a miniscule amount, wordlessly asking to come in.\n\nQueen Malvina smiles. \"Dieter!\" She clears her throat softly and then gestures with her small hand. \"Please, come in.\"\n\nHe does so, walking into the solar and setting the drinks onto the sofa table. Shutting the door behind her, Malvina quickly prances over to her usual spot on the chaise longue. Dieter pulls up his own chair and then pours out two measures of brandy. Handing one to her, he raises his glass with a grin. \"To your health.\"\n\n\"And to yours.\"\n\nThe night continues as most do, Dieter tells stories about anything and everything, Malvina never sure if he's telling the truth or not. Laughter from one joke or another. More glasses of brandy. Very often they just spend times staring into each other's eyes. Her cool viridian meeting his storm gray. A smile as one takes a sip from their glass. They have done this for countless evenings, and would do for many more. Eventually though, as they smile at one another, the clock strikes the time. Sadness appears of both of their faces as they are pulled back into reality. Dieter Hagedorn rises from his chair wordlessly and gives a slight stiff bow. Almost mournfully, he murmurs. \"Good night you Majesty.\"\n\nMalvina watches silently as he makes his way to the door. He is about to open it when a sound comes from behind him. \"Won't you stay the night.\" She says softly. Dieter halts in place, eyes staring straight ahead at the solid oak of the door as he takes in what he had heard. It is an innocuous question, though laden with implication. As the gravity of the query reaches him, he begins to turn around, mouth forming a response when a lithe shape rushes up to him. Soft lips press against his, muffling whatever he had to say.\n\nFor a moment he just stands there, stunned as if struck upon the head. Then his senses clear and he reciprocates, drawing her closer to him as she does likewise. They kiss again, lost in taste of apple brandy and the smell of lavender and linseed oil. Breaking off, she roams across his neck with her lips, working her way up to nibble on his ear. Dieter raises her hand to kiss her palm, sending flutters of delight coursing through her system. Malvina shrugs of his coat and works through the gold buttons as he is lost in caressing the pale skin of her back. He slips the shoulders from her gown as their lips meet again, this time with a fervent hunger. She gasps in delight as lips roam across her chest. The two fall onto the chaise longue, embracing one another and clinging tightly as if afraid the other might disappear. They continue into the night, small gasps and muffled moans covered by the roar of the fireplace. Outside, the snow begins to fall." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You live in a post-apocalyptic Earth and humanity is on the brink of extinction. You are one of the few humans left and notice that someone is following you." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I could see it, just out on the horizon, still a fair few hours away at this pace. I'd avoided cities like the plague they contained since it had all kicked off. You never knew who had the sickness until it was too late and they'd already given it to you. So I kept my distance, from anyone and everyone, hoping it would burn itself out after too long. And it did. Eventually. After killing every possible host, of course. Hell, I hadn't seen another soul in over two months, just the occasional whispers over radio of other travelers like me, or from folks holed up on some farm some place, warning everyone to keep their distance lest they wanted to get shot.\n\nI sat myself down on a rock and looked out at the city. I'd met a family about six months back and they'd said they were heading there, and that if I couldn't find what I was looking for out East then I should come find them. I put stale cigarette between my dry lips and lit it. You'd be amazed at how easy was to find a lighter in the apocalypse. I took a few slow puffs and wiped the sweat off my brow, that's when I noticed it, lingering just in the corner of my eye. A black shape, hidden between the trees, skulking closer and closer.\n\nI pretended I didn't see it and went about looking out the city, puffing away, absent-mindedly drawing my pack closer. The figure got closer, it was slow and deliberate in its movement, sticking to the shadows, trying to keep as a low profile as possible, I guess. My fingers rummaged around in my pack for my mirror; always be prepared and all that shit. I grasped the mirror and ditched the cigarette, then slowly moved my free hand over my holstered revolver. Bringing the mirror up to my face, I saw it. My heart skipped a beat and my hand lunged for the revolver. Stood, only few yards away, just at the edge of the treeline was a woman, clad head to toe in mud, machete at her side and a rifle in her hands.\n\n“Drop it.” She barked. Her voice was harsh and scratchy, like she hadn't spoken in an age. My hand did not move. “Drop the fucking gun.” She raised the rifle and pointed it dead square at my back, “Won't tell you again.”\n\n“How about you drop yours first?” I shoot back, 'And then I might drop mine.” My heart was drumming in my chest. I stood up, hand still firm on my gun.\n\n“Drop it!” There was something animalistic in her voice; I doubted I could push her too far.\n\n“If I let it go will you shoot?” I asked, trying hard not to let my nerves break me.\n\n“Long as you don't try any funny business.” Her voice was as steady as her hand. Not even the slightest shake.\n\n“I'm going to stand up and face you, okay?” I raised both my hands over my head and stood, turning to face her. That's when I recognised her; she was part of the family I'd met all those months ago. “It's you!” I exclaimed in shock, “I met you and your family a few months back, remember?” There wasn't even the slightest flicker of recognition in her eyes.\n\n“I don't have a family,” She grunted, “Never have.”\n\nThat's when I noticed it. There was something else in her eyes, behind the stone coldness, there was a deranged wildness. I'd seen it before. See, there were some that got the disease and didn't die, but it changed them. Did funny things to the mind. My heart practically exploded at that point. I took a step back; I'd have to be quick.\n\n“Did you hear that?” I suddenly broke, looking in between the trees just behind her. Her concentration broke, only for a moment, but I seized my chance. My hand shot down and pulled out my revolver, pointed straight at her head and shot. She crumpled almost immediately, falling to the ground before she even knew what had hit her. I shot again, another bullet straight into her skull.\n\nThen I simply turned and walked, grabbing my pack and off into the woods from which she came. A deranged look behind my eyes." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: The dragons of old have always been big fans of language and clever wordplay. How would a rap battle with one go?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Welcome to the final of the Dragon's Annual Rap Killer Contest! We've seen maaaaad beef today, roasting without limits and the spillage of hot fire was amazing! Now, ladies and gentlemen, claws up for the mad final: Who spits the hottest fire IN - THE - WORLD!? Is it DJ Ryu, the hot legend from the underground, the underdrake, so to speak? Or is it the champion of last year, MC Spitfire!? You decide! Now, give it up for the combatants aaaaaaand mad rep for our turntable rocker, Hoardmasta! DROP THE BEAT HOARDY! Yeah, that's it! DJ Ryu, on stage!\n\nRyu: RYUUU in da house! Spitting hotter fire than spitfire, shit's dire, when the Asian raps, whelps collapse, parents are shocked and the system gets mocked!\n\n'Cause when I go round, unbound, with mad sound, you get downed! No wings gonna make you fly, your game's gone awry, you fry and then you die!\n\nSpitfire: R... YU... Ready, no you're not, you forgot, you battle an OG enemy, real master, your personal disaster! I'm hoardin' the gold, more riches, more bitches, more stitches, look at my battle-scars from my ghetto-wars, you talk 'bout whelp dragons, I laugh, drink virgin blood from a flagon in my vault, and under my massive assault, you'll crumble, give up, I win by default.\n\nRyu: Win by default? That's a result you're content with, old man? All that muscle but no brain, a shame, your assault - better surrender! - hits me like a fender bender, the only effect it projects is minor deject from the man who drives a corvette and makes a wreck. So agile, versatile, in body and mind, sleek yet not meek, will roast your meek meat-head.\n\nSpitfire: At least I got the body to represent, thin twig, I'm big, that's what the girls dig, you little prick! Crawl back to the underground, I release my verbal hound, and pound you back deep, then get crowned - two times in row! - cause my flow steals the show, you're no dragon, you're a crow, now go and grow.\n\nRyu: If I grow anymo' even you must know that I will blow you away, I got the breath of death, you raps confusing like an addict rambling on meth - oh, was that too hard, did I leave you scarred? Add that to your surgery marks from imagined struggles, your career lies in rubbles, while I smuggle myself on stage, enraged, the far eastern sage, ripping your ribcage apart, going straight for your heart.\n\nSpitfire: Is this for real? A whelp foretells the end of my career? When it's at full swing, hear the fire I bring, clutch at straws, a last hope that you cling to and claw, and then you drop down under and I eat you raw, stuff my maw with some Kimchi and gnaw on your bones, cause my tones hit harder than scissors gets beaten by stones.\n\nRyu: Children's game is all you can cite? Alright, this seems to be rap battles lite. So I leave my A-game at home, but not alone, B-game, C-game, the whole ABC is there, reading a tome, because I can beat you with style even without the need to dial my phone, calling home. On second thought, my garden gnome, that's who I'd call, because once and for all, that's one guy you could beat and do the repeat. You're no elite, last year was a fluke, you nuked the Archduke but your raps made me puke back then and even now it takes all my strength to withhold my stomach's contends.\n\nSpitfire: Just puke, it'll be the only time in your life you're ever sick! Cause imma stick it to ya, pick you apart, it's an art to take your limbs from you, part by part. Off with the wings, your flimsy strings, wait that's an arm? Damn, I'm alarmed, that small thing can't do any harm, even your raps are disarmed! And when you're just a long body, you're a nobody, no arm, no wing, no knee, go hide under a tree. When I step up, you break, the earth does quake and you slither off like a snake." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: God comes to you in a dream , but instead of asking him questions you rant at him for all the evil in this world . Annoyed , he gives you godly power and challenges you to do a better job" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I tried.\n\nFor Millennia I tried.\n\nI stopped heartless, evil men who ceaselessly killed in the name of some ideology or race. The genocides of the century I was born into, the perpetrators I learned about in history all erased from history. Hitler, Stalin, Mao, Pol Pot, the Pasha’s, Idi Amin, but it didn’t matter. Eventually someone took their place in history and committed horrendous acts in the name of some greater cause. I changed tactics.\n\nI cured cancer. Swept away smallpox, banished the black plague, and eradicated all manner of other awful diseases and sicknesses that killed millions. But the effects weren’t always what I expected. Without smallpox the Europeans just killed North Americans with technology, without the black plague millions more starved to death as food production couldn’t keep up with the growing population.\n\nI rewrote entire constitutions, I altered laws and enforced tolerance of all kinds, be they religious, racial or sexual. But they found ways to persecute one another still for menial things. I founded new religions and commanded universal love and compassion, tolerance and openness to one another, but they ‘misinterpreted’ my commands. Forgetting the acts committed in my name, that’s not something I can ever do. It changed me, and I began to understand, but I wasn’t ready to give up.\n\nI tried more abstract methods. Making all societies matriarchal did little to bring about the peaceful nature I’d hoped for. Mothers, fathers, it doesn’t matter who ends up in charge it seems. I even made children in charge for a time, but… have you read Lord of the Flies? Closer to the truth than you may expect.\n\nEverything. I tried everything, until there was only one option left. The most extreme of all, the only guarantee to eradicate evil for good, but I couldn’t do it. Instead I returned to God. He sat there, on the edge of the bed I had been sleeping in all those years ago. He looked at me, his expression placid.\n\n“I couldn’t do it.”\n\n“No. You could have, but you chose not to.”\n\nI stared at the corner of the room for a minute, my mind grey.\n\n“Was there no other way?”\n\n“Believe me, I have been God for far longer than you were and I have exhaustively searched for another way. There is none.”\n\n“Is that really eradicating evil though? Or just shifting the evil from them to me?”\n\n“What do you think?”\n\n“We already know I suppose, it’s why I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be that evil.”\n\n“No.” He smiled, “You could not, and you are the first to refrain from doing so.”\n\n“You’ve given this power to others before?”\n\n“Yes, many times. Each time they fail, always falling to the frustration of failing. Eventually they all come to the conclusion, correctly, of the one thing that will eradicate evil. Unfortunately, each time, they rip it away. Driven simply by anger and contempt, no longer by a want to do good. Until you.”\n\n“I’m not sure what to say…”\n\n“There is nothing to say. I am proud of you child, you have come to understand why I am the way I am, and in turn you have given me hope for the future of your kind. Farewell.”\n\nI woke with a start. Looking around at the dark room, where I was so many years ago… or was it? Had it all just been a dream? So vivid, yet so possibly implausible. I wasn’t sure. I lay back down and stared at my ceiling fan, whirring above my head. It was hard to be certain of what had just happened, if anything at all had even happened. What I was sure of though, if there was a God, I couldn’t blame him for evil in the world any longer. As much as the evil in the world is up to me and others, so too is the good in it, and I was determined to choose good. That was my choice, my decision. All mine." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You're an apprentice training under one of the most power wizards in existence. The problem? He's old and an alcoholic." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A small purple vial rolls across a small wooden floor. It's half empty and leaking. The contents appear contaminated and old. The bottle just made its way from the hands of Paul the Wizard. He had been working all night to perfect his hangover potion, but this morning it didn't appear to be working.\n\nIn comes Cornelius. He is of a medium build, slightly on the mushy end, with a beard and glasses. He slowly gazes at Paul in his stupor, but doesn't let out a sigh. Instead, he walks right past him and into another room. You can hear Paul making some rumblings about paperwork. Cornelius rolls his eyes.\n\nAs you see, since he was a little boy Cornelius longed to be a wizard. He would spend hours a day reading and studying the power of wizardry. But as time went on, the power of wizardry would wain. Alchemy quickly took hold and gave powers to those in an instant. Wizards like Paul were pushed aside for the immediate affects over the years. This did not slow Cornelius. He longed to bring the fervor back to Wizardry he once knew.\n\nThat is how he actually met Paul. Cornelius one day snuck off into the woods with his old man's whiskey bottle to take a swig. He headed out towards the Queen's Bridge and on the way was drunkenly casting spells to himself, or at least trying to. As he was walking he would walk along side a man yelling at a donkey about his chicken pot pie, wearing nothing but twigs and leaves. The two of them would make eye contact. The old man seemed startled.\n\n\"YOU THERE!\" the old man screamed. Cornelius would turn around and look at the old man strangely. \"Yeah?\" he responded. \"You can see me?\" Paul asked. \"Uhhh. Yeah.\" Cornelius answered. Paul rushed over and grabbed the young man and stared at him as if he hadn't seen a soul in years. \"YOU.... YOU.... Can you tell me why this horse is withholding my pot pie?\" asked Paul. \"I know for a FACT I got it this morning and I can't find it,\" he stated.\n\nIt turns out Paul had started drinking after his decline from fame. He was use to all the high elf women, finest potions money could buy and all of the fine Italian horses. But that all went away as alchemists came in and gave his craft away for a fraction. He was relegated to semi-obscurity. It also turns out he didn't realize he was invisible. On his decline from fame, he began experimenting with strange potions. People began to ignore him just about the same time he took an invisibility potion. He never correlated that they couldn't actually see him.\n\nCornelius saw him because he was just as a fool. While drinking and reading random spells he happen to cast a see invis spell for only a short while. That's when he happened upon Paul. Looking past the twigs and leaves, he realized this was no drunkard. This was Paul the Wizard. The same great caster that could knock back 12 shots of Dragon's Blood and then slay 500 goblins without flinching in his prime." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: It's not easy being a supervillain, but you've finally captured your arch-nemesis. Triumphantly ripping off their mask, you discover the last person you'd expect: yourself." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The rest of the team arrived to see Titanium standing over the body of the villainous Dr. Maniacal. The literal blood on his suit meant there was no hiding the truth. He had just killed a man.\n\nLady Amazon covered her mouth in disgust. “T-Titanium…” she stammered. “What happened? What did you do?”\n\nHe looked confused at the blood on his hands. “I… I don’t know. I broke free and confronted Dr. Maniacal. That’s when he started talking.”\n\n“Monologuing,” Inspector Spector interjected. He walked up to the body to get a closer look. “They love to monolog about how great and smart they are, but pride cometh before the fall as they say.”\n\n“That’s the last thing I remember before…”\n\n“So you blacked out and woke up standing over the dead body?” Spector questioned.\n\n“Yes I…” there were cracks in his once powerful voice. “Oh god, I just killed someone.”\n\nSpeed rushed to his side and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Hey man, it’s ok. It’s not your fault.” He was always the heart of the Hero Force. “If it weren’t for his henchmen we would’ve been here to rescue you.”\n\nSpector crouched over the body. “His face has been completely caved in. No chance we’ll find out his secret identity that way.”\n\n“Hey man,” Speed barked. “Maybe Titanium doesn’t need to hear this right now?”\n\nSpector looked up at them for a second before returning his attention back to the body. “Then take Titanium back to HQ. Run some diagnostics on him.”\n\n“Good idea,” Speed agreed. “Come on buddy. Let’s get you home. What about you L.A.?”\n\nLady Amazon’s gaze had not left the body for some time now. “I think I’ll stay with Spector and help investigate.”\n\nSpeed wished them good luck and escorted him to the hover-jet with the same delicacy he gave to old ladies crossing the street. Once he was strapped in, Speed gave him a thumbs up and got in the pilot seat. He could see Spector through the window as they took off.\n\nMonologuing he thought to himself of what Spector said earlier. It took oscar-worthy acting for him to hide his anger. The great Doctor Maniacal doesn’t monologue!\n\nIn fact, when he had captured Titanium, he did something no supervillain before had been smart enough to do. He took off his mask. He expected the answer to who Titanium was. What he didn’t expect was to see his own face staring back at him.\n\n“Well, that’s a first.” Titanium said to him. “But honestly, that was a bad move.”\n\n“Your- Your face!” Dr. Maniacal shouted at him. “Why do you look exactly like me?”\n\n“Good question, but I don’t have to answer.” Titanium’s voice had completely changed from the soothing, powerful tone he always had. Now his voice was threatening. “See, my team’s on their way to rescue me right now, and they’re not interested in anything you have to say. They’ll free me. And then I’ll kill you. I’ll blame it on… mind control or something stupid like that. And they’ll believe me because I’m the good guy.” Titanium smiled his perfectly white teeth at him. “Did you know the full force of my punch can shatter a human skull? You should start running now.”\n\nDr. Maniacal was stunned. Titanium had been his mortal enemy for years. He had never seen him act this way. And yet, he knew he wasn’t lying. None of this made sense. He needed more time to figure this out, but time was something he didn’t have much of. He looked to Titanium’s mask in his hands as though it were some sort of key. And then he looked at his own hand. The Mad Doctor formed a hypothesis; one that required testing.\n\n“Strong enough to shatter a human skull, you say?” He clenched his hand into a fist and turned back towards Titanium.\n\nThe Doctor’s words removed the smile from Titanium’s face. A moment later his fist would remove Titanium’s teeth from his head.\n\nAnd now that he sat in the hover-jet, he ran his hands over his outfit. Even Titanium’s clothes managed to fit him perfectly. Still, it wasn’t easy to undress and redress a corpse. And Dr. Maniacal didn’t enjoy putting on clothes covered with someone else’s blood. But… was it really someone else’s blood.\n\n“We’re almost back to HQ.” Speed spoke to him. “I’m sure by the time Spector and L.A. return, we’ll have answers.”\n\n“Good, I need answers.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: I'm on the road for another few hours, write me the story you've always wanted but never had a prompt, whatever the genre." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It’s dark. No lights. No sound.\n\nThe metal table chills my spine. Straps dig into my wrists and ankles. I can’t move. My entire body tenses trying to move in any way I can. The headstrap seems to tighten the more I struggle.\n\nIn between thrashes, fluorescent lights begin to flicker 30 feet above my head. All I can see are the metal rafters in what appears to be an abandoned warehouse. The flickering lights providing the only audible noise.\n\nMy lips crack as I attempt to open my mouth and scream… nothing comes out.\n\nFear sets in, only followed by the realization that I have no idea where I am… or even worse, who I am. I remember nothing.\n\nA radio cracks behind me.\n\n“Ready the AI for testing” a deep raspy voice grumbles.\n\nAI? Testing?!\n\nI begin to yank harder on my restraints, causing only more pain. My voice continues to fail, screams going unheard. Sweat begins to roll down my brow, pooling behind my head. I must find a way out.\n\nI freeze as a door slams somewhere in the room. The metal door on the metal door frame crashes once, bounces off of the warehouse walls in a seemingly endless echo. I have no idea where it came from. I stay still.\n\nFootsteps approach from behind. Not the kind of foot steps I would have expected. Sharp clicks on a concrete floor. Softer, now louder. The clicks stop as a shadow darkens the light on my face. I can hear a soft shallow breath.\n\n“Hello.”\n\nThe voice was soft, high pitch, and seemingly timid. Not the voice from the intercom.\n\n“My name is Lily, I’m sorry for the restraints, but I hope you’ll understand it’s for your own safety. Your voice will come back in time but we were not able to restore your memory.”\n\nPanic set in as I grit my teeth and ripped my arms against the leather straps. I wasn’t stopping until I was free. As I struggled, the shadow that was hovering over my face began to move, and Lily came into view. Sweat now pouring into my eyes, I struggled to focus on the object now only several feet infront of my face. I could barely make out sandy curls bouncing down to her chest. Round glasses framed her face and contrasted her sharp jaw line.\n\nShe slowly looked me up and down. For the first time I realized I was naked.\n\nHer eyes snapped to mine, as more and more of her came into focus.\n\nHer curly hair rested on a very tight fitting suit jacket covering a plain white blouse, unbuttoned... just enough to be provocative. My eyes were definitely working now.\n\nMy body had calmed down at the sight of her.\n\n“I know this is going to be hard to believe, but I’m here to help you. I’d like to unstrap you from this table, but I need to know you’re not going to retaliate.”\n\nSomething about her voice was soothing. I felt calm for the first time since waking up. She took my silence as an invitation to continue speaking.\n\n“We’ve been waiting a long time for you to wake up. You’ve been... asleep... for 42 years and we’ve been doing everything we can to get you to this point.”\n\nThere was something different about the way she said ‘asleep’... but something about her voice and her demeanor kept me calm and attentive.\n\n“We have some work for you to do. Work that at this point we’re confident only you can complete. I’d like to give you your voice back now so we can start to get you off of this table, can we do that?”\n\nGive me my voice back?! Before I could process the absurdity of that statement, Lily motioned to someone, or something, behind me. Gears began to grind and my metal table started to jerk forwards. Slowly tilting me upright.\n\nHeat began coursing through my body focusing around my neck and throat. The intensity increased. Heat so hot I could have been on fire. I opened my cracked lips, took a breath as if it were my last, and let out a scream that could have broken glass.\n\nThe heat stopped immediately. I had my voice back.\n\nLily didn’t let me get a word in… “Great… let’s get to work”\n\nEdit: Fixed name mistake." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: Two consenting individuals can trade fates. Thus, the rich often lead charmed lives, free from accidents, misfortune, and pain. However, you're a professional Doom-Bearer--and you've managed to make a pretty good living being the butt of others' misfortune." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Do you know how it feels to have a knife slam into your intestines? It’s this horrible sting, white-hot like a poker fresh from the blacksmith’s stove digging through you, branding your bones in pain. Despite all this, I just grit my teeth and smile through it. A little pain was worth the 20 million dollars that would be waiting for me at home.\n\nI’ve been through much worse for less. My buyer had been generous, far more generous than he needed to be. He’d shown up at my doorstep and practically thrown himself at me.\n\n“They’re after me,” he’d panted, eyes flicking back and forth. “Please... you’re the only one who can help.”\n\nI’d picked him up, led him blubbering into my private study. The room was brand new, paid for with the last job I’d taken on. My legs still throbbed sometimes where they’d been hit by that bus.\n\n“Take a seat,” I said, idly waving him towards an armchair. He drooped into it like a sagging corpse. I could see it on his face: he was almost there. His death was coming for him. It was so close he could kiss it.\n\n“I assume you know what line of work I’m in,” I started, sliding behind my ten thousand-dollar mahogany desk. I rummaged around in the drawers until my hands fell upon the neat stack of papers I had arranged for just this situation. I laid them out on my desk, fighting to keep my face in a strictly professional expression. I could feel the corners of a grin start to work on my lips.\n\nMy future client let out a shuddering sob. “You know who I am, right?” he mumbled.\n\n“I’m afraid I don’t.” I put on an expression of mild interest.\n\n“I’m Boss Jock, you idiot,” he snarled. He looked like a cornered animal, defending the only thing he had left: his title. It was something I’d seen before. All of these guys liked to think their names made them powerful, made them gods. To me, it just made him seem more pathetic.\n\n“My brothers are after me,” he continued, casting a stray eye to the side. “Joe’s got the knife ready and everything. I want to get the bastard first, but I need to be alive to do it.” Finally we were getting to the heart of the matter. No doubt this guy was mafia. I’d take pleasure in squeezing every dollar from his bloody grip.\n\n“I’m ready to make the deal.” His voice was steady, but desperation rolled off him in waves. This was going to be too easy.\n\n“It’s going to cost you,” I warned, and unsurprisingly, he seemed just as determined as before.\n\nHe leaned forward. “Name your price.”\n\n“20 million.”\n\nI could see the pain in his eyes. Spending that much money on something like this was like taking out a kidney for rich guys like him. “Done.”\n\nWe shook. There was a breif second of silence.\n\nMy client seemed underwhelmed. “Was that it?”\n\n“Were you expecting a light show?” I cocked a professional eyebrow. “My spell is simple, yet effective.”\n\n“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled. He seemed relieved, though. “Damn ripoff,” he grumbled as he stumbled out the door.\n\nI waited. Put a little Netflix on, kicked my feet up, and relaxed.\n\nIt happened at two in the morning. I was whisked away from the third season of Game of Thrones and dumped unceremoniously into the body of my client right before the knife dug itself into my stomach.\n\nI couldn’t help letting out a groan of pain. Unprofessional, I know, but I was past caring at that point. I faceplanted into the mud, registering the gentle taps of rain on my back. I struggled to sit up. His body was a lot heavier than I’d thought, covered in muscles hidden under a bulbous layer of beer belly. “Should’ve cut out the cookies,” I murmured deliriously.\n\n“What did you say?” My attacker, a man with shady written all over him, stood uncomfortably close. His eyes were bugging out of his skull. “Do you want some more?” he held up his bloodstained knife.\n\nI murmured a few words under my breath and was delighted to feel the health spell begin to seal the wound.\n\n“I think you’ve had enough.” I barreled into him. The knife slipped through his fingers and into mine. I gripped it and slammed it into his chest.\n\n“What... how...?” His eyes turned blank. I stepped away. There wasn’t much time to waste. I ran to the bastard’s car and hightailed it all the way home.\n\nMy body was still sitting there, munching noisily on a gob of popcorn too big for my hands. My client looked up at me through my eyes. It was a strange sensation, like looking through a funhouse mirror.\n\n“It worked!” I - no, he - grinned. “Say, that’s weird - I’m talking to myself.”\n\n“My payment, please.” My client took out a laptop and transferred his funds to the account I had specified. “Thank you very much.”\n\n“Pleasure doing business with ya,” he grinned, shaking my hand. “Now, how do you reverse it?”\n\nI put on a look of feighned surprise. “Oh, you didn’t know?”\n\n“Know what?” His smile faltered.\n\n“You don’t.” I let a smile spread across my face. “You’re wearing the body of my last client. Too bad you’re not a magic user like me. You’ll wear out of it in a few hours.”\n\n“No!” he yelped. “Get me out of here, you son of a bitch! How much do I need to pay you, ten, twenty, fifty-“\n\n“I have what I want.” I looked down at my pudgy new body, hating it, savoring the fact that I wouldn’t be in it for long. “Your underworld connections will be very helpful for my business.”\n\n“NOOO!” he screamed, flinging himself across the room. “YOU SON OF A BITCH-“\n\n“Language,” I interrupted. “Please, let us sit and talk about this like professionals.”\n\n“I’LL KILL YOU!”\n\nI sighed, but I secretly knew I would enjoy what was coming next. “No, you won’t.” I edged into the kitchen, pulling a butcher knife from its stand. “See, I don’t like getting stabbed or kicked or hit by buses, but none of you bigwigs care about that, do you? You push all of your troubles on the small fry because you think you’re too good to suffer like they do. You think you can crush them like ants because you have a little cash invested in the right places.”\n\nI aimed and shot the knife forward like a bullet. It lodged itself square into his chest. He fell over, slumping into a heap of meat and silk Prada. I squatted, meeting his bleary eyes, and whispered into his ear.\n\n“You’d be right.” I pushed the knife in further. “You’re just another ant.” Blood squirted from the corner of his mouth in heaving gasps. I didn’t feel an ounce of pity. “I’m going to make you worth something.” The light faded from his eyes.\n\n“Congratulations.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: “Welp,” said the alien running the simulation. “Earth was a failure.” he reached for the cables of the machine, but stopped. “Well, we might as well have a little fun with it.” he chuckled to himself" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A bright red light accompanied a loud and obnoxious siren in the simulation room aboard the starship Kangus, waking Arken from his mid-day nap. Bumbling over to the controls to see what was wrong, he noticed his pet project called “Earth” was blinking rapidly on the screen. He had seen this happen before, but if he acted quickly, he may be able to salvage it.\n\nArken walked over to the data sheets on Earth to find out where the errors occurred. He picked up the original coding for Earth to compare it to the numbers now, The landscape seemed within normal ranges, what one would expect to happen. The environment looked a bit out of whack, but those figures started to decrease after Arken had eliminated fossil fuels as a potential energy source. The air quality in some places had started to improve, so where was this cascading failure?\n\nUnsure of what happened, he called in his superior to take a look at the sheets with him. Loot arrived soon after and immediately grabbed the sheets out of Arken’s hands.\n\n“What happened here?” he asked.\n\n“I have no idea. All seemed fine recently, everything was getting better, but something changed. Any ideas on how to get it back?”\n\nWhile Loot thought about a solution, he was reminded of a similar situation he had come across when he was a young intern at the Commission for Planetary Existence. He stepped over to the console for a closer look at Earth. As he was watching the screens, he accidentally pressed a button which abruptly changed the weather patterns in the Northern Hemisphere. Cloud cover became more dense in some areas, while tornadoes broke out in places that had never seen them before.\n\n“Oh, crap!” he exclaimed. “I don’t know what I just did, but I don’t think there is anything I can do about it.”\n\n“There has to be a way to fix it!” Arken picked up the data sheets again, expecting to find a new answer in an already looked over set of numbers.\n\n“See that blue dial. Turn it to the left a quarter rotation!” Arken screamed over to Loot, trying to be louder than the siren, which had gotten louder. “That may offset the atmospheric disaster.”\n\nLoot did what Arken suggested, but the end result was not what Arken had in mind.\n\n“That clearly was not the right move.” Loot dropped his arms in defeat, as the duo watched half of the planet’s liquid water turn to solid ice. Coastal towns started to see snow falling on the banks of their oceans.\n\nKnowing there was nothing that could be done, Arken threw in the towel. He tossed the papers aside and stared at the results of their mishaps. Loot looked up and smiled. He decided to just pull a lever at random. He found a pitch black lever on the smaller side with a bright green screen next to it. He pulled the lever so the screen read 10%. Looking back at the screen he noticed nothing had happened. He pulled the lever just a little bit more, to 25% and again, observed no change. Finally he pulled the lever all the way down, to the maximum of 100%.\n\n“Arken? What does this lever do?”\n\n“That, sir, activates the zombie gene in the deceased humans.”\n\nThey could almost hear the screams of the chaos beginning on the poor planet." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You are immortal, never age past 20 and were sentenced to 247 years in jail for your crimes. Your release date is tomorrow, the government is nervous and the world is watching." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "'Thanks, Sarah. I'm here outside Isle Elba Prison where we're counting down to the release of The Governor's son, Charlemagne, two-hundred and forty seven years after he was sentenced to imprisonment here for the murder of twenty-five of The Grand Synod in 3073. Charlemagne, the youngest of The Governor's sons, is expected to walk through those double doors at around dawn tomorrow and rejoin his father back in their family home in central Rome. The Governor has issued a statement that he expects the negotiation regarding terms of surrender for North America to continue in his absence, though sources say there is considerable concern within the government both at his prolonged absence and the return of his prodigal son'\n\nThe reporter gestured to the high walls and razor wire behind her, which were being warmed by the Mediterranean sun.\n\n'While little detail on the lives of the inmates of Elba are known to the public, what we do know is that Charlemagne was granted a three year reduction in sentence for good behaviour, and that his lawyers have stated that he understands what he did was wrong, and he hopes to become an active contributing member of society. Further updates when I have them...'\n\nThe TV was difficult to hear over the scraping of plates and cutlery in the large prison canteen, but Charlemagne thought he had caught most of it. The programme had moved back to the studio, to go into depth again on his original sensational arrest and trail nearly a two-hundred and fifty years ago. Images of scarlet and white flashed across the scene, followed by videos of court proceedings and grieving crowds.\n\nTwo hundred and fifty years, ten for every life he'd taken. He'd sat in silence throughout the trial. He'd known it was coming, planned for it. Only, he'd planned for two-hundred and forty years, not two-hundred and fifty.\n\nThe twenty-fifth count of murder, well, the twenty-fifth wasn't one of his. It was the only body that the police at the time had been unable to identify, dressed though he was in the scarlet robes of the pompous Cardinals who made up the Synod's highest rank.\n\nCharlemagne had taken the blame anyway. Hard to convince a jury that you're guilty of all murders but one. Better to remain silent, and plan.\n\nThe news report was now flashing up a close-up of his face from the trial, tanned with a dark brow and aquiline nose, inherited from his father. The years in prison had left their mark on him, but not in the usual way. While the faces of the prisoners around him, some of the most dangerous men on the planet, had slowly started to distort through weight gain, lack of sleep, too much sun, and hair loss, Charlemagne remained the youth he had been when he entered the prison. It had been fascinating for him to watch the former titans of cruelty melt into old men up close. Aging wasn't something in his own families genes.\n\nHis only physical souvenir was an impressive scar that now ran from his left brow straight down his face - a reminder of a cell-mate brawl only thirty years into his tenure in Elba. It had been one of the many attempts that his other four brother had made on his life while he served his sentence. None of them had been truly serious, thought the knife attack had been the close, more tests to keep Charlemagne on his toes while they waited for him to re-emerge. They likely thought it was all terribly funny. Instead it had provided the most serious obstacle to Charlemagne's only aim when he entered Elba's doors - to stay on the good side of the Prison guards and do whatever he could to reduce his sentence.\n\nElba had always been the plan. Their father's ambitions had been hampered, and Charlemagne had commited himself to serving that ambition.\n\nThe real problem was the twenty-fifth corpse. That hadn't been part of their plan.\n\nSomeone had tried to keep him locked up for ten years more that they had planned. Charlemagne didn't like to think what that meant, and now he only had three years to find out." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Uncle Ben and Aunt May both die in a house fire while Peter is at Oscorp. Peter never learns that great power comes with great responsibility." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gwen walked out her door and made a mental note to get the exterminator's number from the super. The spider webs were so thick this morning that she didn't think she could get to the elevator without ruining her hair. The super claimed he'd had the exterminator over for a fourth time in the same week last week, but since then he couldn't get the exterminator to return his calls. Gwen decided it was time so see what she could negotiate with the exterminator, he clearly wasn't doing his job. She snaked her way through the cobwebs, down the elevator and through the closing doors of the C train which would deliver her to the Downtown door of Oscorp with exactly 30 minutes to settle in to her desk before the day began.\n\nThe career at Oscorp hadn't come easy. Materials science was hard. People born with Gwen's looks almost always opted for an easier, more glamorous, path in life. Gwen had had the same choices. The problem was she still had those same choices, and her peers at Oscorp didn't quite know what to make of her. \"She must be some sort of practical joke,\" they seemed to think, \"no one as good looking as her could be serious enough to do this work.\" Peter was the worst of the bunch. The way he addressed Gwen was a constantly alternating stream of awkward flattery with awkward derision. \"I love when you wear your hair like that,\" he would say, totally out of context, \" it makes me forget about that time you tried to anneal a coagulated polymer,\" referring to a small misunderstanding from 6 years prior when Gwen was an intern. In fact, two things had happened recently that had significantly increased the negative impact of Peter Parker on Gwen Stacy's life: Gwen had started dating the CEO's son Norman, and Peter had moved into an apartment in Gwen's building, on her floor, just down the hall.\n\nShe had to hand it to Peter, he was a brilliant scientist. He didn't necessarily give off the impression of being a brilliant scientist, but time and time again, he got reproducible results. What's more, he had a knack for \"scooping\" Oscorp's competition, often beating their patent filings by mere hours. Oscorp stock had increased nearly five-fold in the last 10 years, and Gwen knew that Peter was responsible for the lion's share of it. For this reason, and for the sake of minimizing unsolicited conversation, Gwen had no issues with Peter strolling in at quarter to noon every day. What she couldn't figure out, was how Peter managed to catch her in the elevator on the way home, on average, three out of four nights. When was he getting his work done? Thankfully, Peter usually kept his distance in the elevator. He always looked like he was about to say something to Gwen when they would ride the elevator together, but only once in a while would he quiz her on some piece of arcane chemistry trivia or disclose some purchase or sale of stock in his brokerage account.\n\nThat night, Gwen remembered to knock on the super's door before she went up to her apartment. She walked across the lobby. Peter was there, waiting for the elevator. Gwen grimaced in recognition as she passed. The super was slow retrieving the number. \"This is the weirdest thing,\" the super said, \" for the last four days, the number goes straight to voicemail. It's as if the guy vanished, we still owe him for the last five visits.\" \"Don't try too hard to find him!,\" the super joked. When Gwen returned to the lobby to get the elevator, Peter was still waiting for the elevator. \"Is this thing broken again?,\" Gwen asked. \"Where were you?,\" Peter snapped, \"I've been holding this thing for 8 minutes.\" Gwen was speechless. To her relief, the rest of the elevator ride was silent. Peter muttered under his breath as he stormed off towards his apartment, paying no mind to the thick cobwebs dotting the hallway." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You're a prophet, capable of seeing a great villain bring about the end of the world in the future. The problem is you see no savior, no Chosen One to stop the evil. So, you enact a several millennia long plan to breed one into existence." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rows of cages stretched away in the dank light. The lead-covered windows left only dim bulbs to light the rows. Janos walked between them and the inmates cowered as he passed. A whip trailed from his left hand, brushing through the matted straw. At his waist hung a thick cosh made of rubber. The swish and the drag of the whip was music to his ears. Janos ran his fingers over the metal of the cages. Rust flakes dropped. They were old, these cages. Old as the hills, but there would be no new ones. The sound was sweet, though he preferred the ring when he beat his cosh against the metal. That would stop the inmates whispering. He didn't like it when they had their own stories, their own tales.\n\nThe inmates were dressed simply. Leggings, a rough tunic, and a blanket for when the nights were cold. Nights were often cold here. Jonas turned a blind eye to how they used them as currency, to curry favours. It didn't matter to him how they were used. At the end of the row, a pregnant woman had a cage to herself. She had two blankets, and used one beneath her swollen belly to take the pressure off where it rested against her legs. Both hands were folded over her belly protectively, and as Janos looked into her little cell, she growled like an animal. Teeth bared in her dirty face, hair shaved against lice.\n\n\"Hush,\" Janos said. \"Don't disturb the little one.\"\n\nIt had to be her. None of the others had fallen pregnant for years, and all the signs were coming to a head. At first there had only been six subjects, but now the cages held more than three thousand. Some had come willingly, others sought safety and shelter after the sky began to fall. Janos and Castor--when he had been alive--converted them to the path of the Chosen. Now they waited. One would come soon. The prophet had promised. Castor had hardly been able to wait. His whole life was spent waiting for the Chosen. He had always wanted more subjects, for the search to be widened. They had opened the doors the day of the great flash, and Janos had never seen Castor so happy.\n\n\"Pray with me,\" he said to the inmate, crouching to squat in the straw. He reached his hand through the bars of the cage and she looked at it nervously.\n\n\"In the name of the Chosen, we pray,\" Janos started. At the familiar words, she crept forwards. Still she kept one hand on the belly, but extended the other like a claw.\n\n\"The signs have come, Prophet. The great flash in the sky and the grey cloud of dust. As you said, the rivers are polluted and the land is sick. Soon the evil one will rise and we ask, in the name of the Chosen, that you guide us and show us who is our enemy, so that the Chosen may vanquish him when the time comes.\" Castor had taught him the words.\n\nJanos kept his eyes closed, whispering and whispering. The mantle had been given to him too early. That birth--the first he had attended--it had come too fast as well. The child rushed forth, silent and purple. One arm stunted, its eyes glued shut and its cranium deformed. It was not the Chosen One. They had burned it, and waited for the next birth. Try again, try again.\n\n\"Guide me, Prophet,\" he said, feeling the woman's hand on him like a vice. \"Guide us through this winter and through the sickness. Our enemy will bring on the end of the world and we ask that we recognise him...\"\n\n\"You,\" the voice roused Janos from his prayer. He looked up, blinking. The woman in the cage stared at him.\n\n\"You,\" she said again. \"Enemy. You.\" Retrieving her hand from his, yanking it away, she shook her head.\n\n\"I--\" Janos stuttered.\n\n\"We die here,\" the woman continued. As she spoke, she gained confidence, won her tongue back. \"No more babies. All dead, all sick.\"\n\n\"I didn't make the sky fall,\" Janos said. The Prophet had foreseen it. Castor had been obsessed with it. Janos could just walk away, but he dropped his hand to the cosh, ready to knock the door of the cage. Rattle her, but his hesitated.\n\n\"Chosen One means freedom,\" she patted her pregnant stomach reassuringly. \"Freedom from you.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You open the fridge to find a packaged meal with a note in it. “How generous,” you think to yourself, but only for s brief second as you remember that you have begun living by yourself." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Phillip open the fridge to find a packaged meal with a note in it. \"How generous\", he thought to himself, but only for a brief second then he remembers that he's been living by himself for the past few days.\n\nHe looked around his condominium to see if things are out of place. It seemed totally normal to him except he couldn't wrap his mind around the meal and the note. Then it striked him, he took his car keys and left to meet his ex girlfriend.\n\n\"Stella, -hey, Stella open the door right now\", Phillip knocked on the door aggressively standing at her house.\n\n\"I told you it's over between you and me, why are you here?\", asked Stella as she came to unlock the door.\n\n\"Is this your doing?\", Phillip showed the note to her face.\n\n\"What are you talking about? It reads your name at the end-\"\n\n\"No, you left this. There's no way anyone would have-\"\n\n\"Are you freakin' kidding me now? Thank God I left, you're a piece of shit, aren't you? I thought you couldn't get over your ex girlfriend but now I realize you're the problem.\"\n\n\"What girlfriend? I didn't have a girlfriend-\"\n\n\"You think I didn't notice? You'd call me by the name of Lucy, where's she and what'd you do to her?\", Stella argued and posed a question she had only been asking herself.\n\n\"No, you listen to me, if I find you do this again I swear I'd-\"\n\n\"Are you threatening me standing at my own porch? Turn away and never come back or I'll call the police\", Stella countered him in defense.\n\nPhillip came back to his condo, opened the fridge and stared at the meal.\n\nThen it all came to him like a floodgate has been opened. The girlfriend of his past, Lucy used to prepare a meal sometimes and she would keep it in the fridge with a note on it that said, 'Thanks for last night, Phillip xoxo.' She had a day job, she'd wake up early in the morning, she'd always leave him a cup of coffee at his bed and scoot for office.\n\nTheir relationship was going well until one day. It started with a text that said, 'Luce, are you there? Where'd you go?' He didn't mind it but then he started noticing her, she'd text for hours and that's when Phillip's doubts had taken root. When he asked she'd say it's a friend and there's nothing to worry about.\n\nDays later he found her talking to her workmate, Daniel at a bar, past her work time. He looked at them both laughing and touching each other, they had such happy faces and it seemed like all the others in the bar looked back at Phillip and laughed like they're making fun of him. He stood there at the door for a moment and simply left the bar.\n\nShe came back late to his condominium, he asked if she was out. She said, \"Can we talk about it tomorrow, I'm tired\", but Phillip kept insisting she replied to his questions.\n\n\"Are you cheating on me?\" Phillip shot that lingering question in the room. Later that night he found himself covered in blood. He killed his girlfriend, Lucy. He became a dud after that, he packed her and took her to a location in the back of his car and spent burying her body all night. And destroyed all the evidence that'd point him to be a suspect without a second thought. He eventually lost his mind and started imagining things, like still living with her while in reality he was living with Stella.\n\nStella broke up with him citing his insecurities and failing to open himself up to her.\n\nYesterday he had prepared a food for Lucy and kept it in the fridge with a written note, 'As a token of gratitude, for all the things you've done for me - Love, Phillip.'\n\nThe police sirens were heard outside his apartment building.\n\nr/FleetingScripts" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: The demons have finally invaded earth. Unfortunately for them, they also released something much more powerful, magic. And we’ve been studying." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Beezus, can you believe those things?”\n\n“Makes sense,” said Gru, unbuckling the severed heads from his belt and plucking out the eyes. “They were made in the image of the Big Man.”\n\n“It took the Big Man Millennia to develop holy water. How long has the campaign gone on for?”\n\n“50 years?”\n\n“50 years. In half of a century, they figured out holy water. How long until they learn Miracles? Banishment?”\n\n“Well, we’ve taken out most of civilization at this point. Only a couple of rowdy bastions left. Then it’s Mai Tai’s on the beach.” Gru chuckled.\n\n“Do you remember last time, when we thought we got ‘em all? Roach bastards had 2 left, and by the time Satan realized the apple hadn’t finished them off, they were trying to colonize the Moon!”\n\n“Way he’s been acting on the battlefield, you can tell he’s tired.”\n\n“This entire campaigns been a wash,” Torak sighed. “He knew opening the portals would bring magic back, and he did it anyway. We thought we were quick enough, but then they had those missiles-”\n\n“Don’t remind me.” Gru said. “My face was bloated for a month. That’s when I knew we really had to put them down. I mean, they didn’t even know we existed, and they had that shit ready. Allon, you know, the torturer?” Torak nodded. “Well, Allon and I were talking about what they’ve been learning in the chambers, and apparently they made that stuff to use on other humans.”\n\n“What? Humans aren’t built like us, and we still lost dozens of legions to those bombs.”\n\n“Apparently, they haven’t actually used them in a century. But they just had them around, and kept tinkering with and improving them for no reason other than to say ‘we have the bigger bomb’.”\n\n“Shit, no wonder it’s been a mess for us since. We’re using spears and maces, and they’ve got guns and artillery. I mean, last time we had them in the air, but now they’ve figured out not only how to fly, but to take out the very monsters they build that let them do so. Which means that they’ve been fighting themselves with those machines, and have been for so long they’ve figured out how to take them down-”\n\n“So they make the machines better to beat the artillery that take them down, then the artillery gets better, then the cycle-”\n\n“Repeats and repeats. Honestly,” Torak leaned in and set his voice down to a whisper. “I think this whole campaign is a wash.”\n\n“Torak! You shouldn't say such things!”\n\n“It’s true! Look at how far they’ve gotten by fighting amongst themselves. But now we show up, so not only do they work together, but we also give them magic. How stupid do we have to be to give them magic?”\n\n“We didn’t think they’d live past the initial invasion. I shouldn’t have mattered.”\n\n“Well it has, and now it does. Did you see that tank today? We sent in a Beast to take it out. And the humans were so prepared, they dropped a balloon of holy water from one of those hover flyers that turned the battle! Beezus, you hear how we were sizzling out there?”\n\n“I was in the back, I didn’t see.”\n\n“Horrifying. It’s why we retreated. Not only can they now make holy water, but they can make enough to accurately drop it from the air. How can we ever hope to win?”\n\n\"Sheesh,\" Gru sighed. \"And they call us demons.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: You crash land on an alien world, meeting a stone age race which lives for 6 months at a time, it has been 25 years since you landed here, and you've become quite a celebrity" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I was 28 when I first landed.\n\nAlthough landed is perhaps an overgenerous term.\n\nNeedless to say, I arrived, and the manner of my arrival left me acutely unwell.\n\nI suspected at the time that I had broken several major bones, and attained serious internal injuries, but looking back now I realize that must not have been the case. If it had been I surely would have perished, for the people who found me had little knowledge of anatomy, medicine, or even of the greater schema of human existence.\n\nI should mention the people of course.\n\nTo the naked eye, there would be little to distinguish them from you or I. Humanoid; two legs, two arms, two eyes, one head. In truth in almost all particulars they were our twins. Perhaps then I should list their differences, out of respect of brevity.\n\nThey each have unbelievably violet eyes. Whether as a result of a different evolutionary environ, or mutation, or sickness I cannot not say, but invariably their eyes glow a maleficent lavender.\n\nThey each are frail, sickly things, vulnerable to injury, disease and wasting. Lacking the vitality and resilience that one would expect of humans as we know.\n\nPerhaps in relation to the above, they also live short, meagre lives. Each man and women among them lives an average lifespan not exceeding six months. Though this may seem brutally short to you and I, amongst them, a seven-month birthday is considered a singular honor of longevity.\n\nI will quickly interject to mention that we are not referencing children. The six month landscape along which these humanoids trudge takes them along the full path. Up the hill from birth to adolescence, summitting in middle age and a gentle declination towards death.\n\nSo there you have it, the people I find myself marooned amongst.\n\nThey live in small stone age villages, and to them I was a novelty. When they pulled me from the wreck of the crash they first thought me a god or a demon, but in short order my howls and whimpers of pain dissuaded them of that notion. What god or demon ever cried tears of agony?\n\nA wanderer they concluded, cast adrift on the divine winds by the gods. A penitent perhaps, or a lost hero. They dragged me to a hut and laid me in a cot. I was attended by several of the women of the village, who evidently were the pinnacle of medical care, which was mostly cold bandages and questionable poultices. A women, who appeared to be no older than thirty-five stood over me and held her hand to her sternum.\n\n'Roantha', she cooed, then placed her hand meaningfully on my chest. Through my whimpers I managed a response, \"Guyren\". She smiled at me, and the image was burned in my brain. The lines and symmetries of her face, the small scar along the line of her nose, the jet black hair.\n\nAfter that the next two weeks passed me by in a fever fugue, as my body fought off the infections and wounds of my arrival. When my true awakening dawned, I found myself much better attended.\n\nI will clarify here again, for it must be clear, I was not venerated as a god, but I was respected. They would come every day, a procession, washing my wounds and limbs, stroking my hair and my limbs. There was marvel in their eyes, and each would touch their hand to their chest and speak their names.\n\nIn the corner Roantha always sat vigilantly. She was not as I remembered. Her eyes were more sunken, the lines of her face harsher, and her hair was beginning to show flecks of snow.\n\nBut I recovered, and I learned. Roantha taught me herself, in the small, simple abode we shared. That time was happy, and I recount it sparsely here, for it is private, and not to be shared.\n\nWhen I threw the last petal on upturned ground of her grave marker, I realised I knew enough.\n\nBy this time I had been in the village for half a lifetime, and to the eyes of the people around me, I had not aged a day.\n\nI was de facto in charge by now, revered for my knowledge, though basic; of medicine, agriculture, and I am ashamed to admit, warfare.\n\nThe village of dozens had already grown to hundreds, most assimilated through conquest.\n\nRoantha was dead in the ground, and I realized soon every villager would follow, and the generation after, and the one after that. No human attachment was left to me that would not whither in my hands.\n\nAnd then I would be petals on the ground too.\n\nWith that knowledge held solely on my shoulders, I made a decision.\n\nI would build something to endure with me." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: Future technology means there is no limit on how good you can become at a skill if you practice enough. Only one person in the universe decided to apply themselves to knitting." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When I was born, instead of slapping me on the tush, the Dr's rushed me to a surgery table. I was still connected via the umbilical cord, and my mother. It was a cold table, and I cried when I was laid on it. The Doctors had put my mother under, and were surprised that I was not still under anesthesia.\n\nThe implantation went well, I suppose. And what became normal was the way everyone grew up. The micro computer, with access to the internet, and many terrabytes of data was quickly adapting to my body. I was \"taught\" by the internet. All knowledge of the whole planet was available to me, and I stopped crying immediately.\n\nI felt it, when they cut the cord, and looked into my doctor's eyes. He said, you are the first to be awake when the implant goes in you know. We will have to keep an eye on your progress. I smiled, and waited for them to clean me and clothe me. They were focused on my monitors, and the wires that were hooked up to me. I saw in my doctor's eyes the look of worry. In my first hour of breath, I learned so many things.\n\nOur people had left earth centuries ago. The planet had grown too small, and in the low gravity of Mars, we thrived. We created an eden of the war planet. An eden where wars were a thing of the past. I learned that as more people were born here, the radiation and low gravity changed us. Aided by science, we evolved yet again from homo sapiens. We were Mars Erectus, a new breed of human.\n\nWe terraformed Mars, and ironically, the first crop was in fact potatoes. The work of a long lost author actually aided our lives here. Some long forgotten, except on the net Martian, had overcome many obstacles to survive and escape our home. In our world, we overcame obstacles to thrive and stay.\n\nIn the tube home from the hospital, my mother held me, and sang to me. She sang of billies of tea and sugar and rum. Of wellermen and the right whales. Creatures that never made it to our world. I cooed along with her, as the gentle rocking of the tube propelled us forward.\n\nMy father, a test tube, so to speak wasn't even on Mars. His DNA was sent with the last caravan ship from earth. They had been looking to cross breed us for years, once our DNA had evolved. Something about bringing new strains over to improve the breed, and to prevent cross breeding amongst the families.\n\nOur people were living longer, and stronger than ever before, and new mutations were carefully tracked. On arriving home, we settled into a routine. My mother always, always sang to me. Sometimes beatboxing, sometimes an opera. Her voice could find the lowest bass, and yet the highest notes. She was 300 when I was born, and had chosen singing as her gift.\n\nNow to the crux of the matter. On my first month birthday, I was to choose my gift. Science had improved and lengthened our lives. We could become experts at anything. Some were experts at medicine, others at science. There are builders, manufacturers, artists and all kinds of gifts. That's what we called them.\n\nOur society had decided that we would each choose our gift, and hone them along our lifetime. Those with exceptional effort, could become grand masters as if we were wizards with owls that brought us mail. I searched, as I grew those first days. Nothing felt right. Nothing seemed right. My mother and then the doctors were frantic, they hooked me up to the galaxy web, wondering what my gift was going to be.\n\nIn my mind, I decided to go back to earth, at least online. I looked up my father, a scotsman. Then I looked into his mother. I saw a live feed of her, and watched as she sat at a wheel and worked fiber into yarn. I watched her constantly, as she then took the yarn, plied it, and then began weaving it. I waited, my mothers and the doctors were dumbfounded.\n\nThen one night, at least where she was, she sat in front of a warm fireplace, and began to knit. Her hands were miraculously fast as she cast on to the needles. She started a pair of socks. Warm in my crib, I watched her knit first the one sock and then the other. My heart raced, and the doctors were going to disconnect me. I cried, for the first time since my birth.\n\nShe's found it, my mother said, let her stay. Not knowing what to do, the doctors waited, and I watched the woman I called Nana in my heart, knit for hours and hours. With just a few days left, I stayed with my Nana via the connection, and listened and learned.\n\nHer hands flickered so fast, and the knitting sheath at her side held the one needle while she worked. One handed, she made soups and stews, and the other was always at the yarn. When the hour came for me to choose, I watched her smile. She said, with no one in the room but the av equipment. I heard you had been born little one. I was the first to receive an implant on earth. I'm glad you came to me.\n\nI will teach you, if you would like. I won't live as long as you, but I can teach you. I laughed then, and I chose to be a knitter. I was the first on my home world. Special fibers had to be sent from earth at first. Then sheep were brought over and my mother's holdings were changed to that of a farm. The sheep improved the soil, and crops were much richer.\n\nWith my first words, and my Nan's voice at my side, I watched her hands and tried to repeat the movements. I said, \"wool\". So, yes, wool was my first word. It's been 700 years since I was born, and I never met my grandmother face to face. But heart to heart, we were very close. When she died, her memories were added to my implant. Since then, I have added to the work.\n\nOff world, my sweaters and art pieces cost millions of dollars. I am the last Shetland knitter. I can make a shawl so beautiful that you would cry. And then again, I can make you a pair of socks so sturdy that they almost never need darning. I can knit you a house cozy, a Pi shawl, or a wedding gown.\n\nMy sheep, whose wool is now finer that Qiviet, and more dear than Alpaca or the sweetest silk, have also evolved. They are the only sheep on Mars. Now my baby granddaughter, what would you like your gift to be?\n\nMy granddaughter's first word, said on her choosing day, was \"crochet.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Nobody can trace the origins of the Floor is Lava game we all played as children. It was like some unknown instinct we all understood. Today, the reason it was so ingrained in our minds became apparent. The floor had in fact, turned to lava..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nimble, nimble, said the thimble : these words echoed in my head. My mother had taunted me this way for many years, crouched atop her writing desk and waving a thimble at me. Get out of my head, mom! I haven't seen you in 60 years!\n\nI'm getting too old for this, I think racing along the back of a couch doing a backflip onto the table. But eyeing the floor, which was lava, I resolved to continue. It may seem childish, I thought, but this a life or death scenario. There are quite literally thousands of degrees Fahrenheit of heat in liquid form and on the ground below me. True to my mother's words, I was nimble. Nimble from day one, baby! Yes, breaching, I had flapped my fledgling arms to pick up speed, gone into a dive, handstand on the doctor's outstretched hands, press off and triple front flip to land on the ground, and a badger-crawl to the vending machine... Yes, I earned my first oreo cookie that day, and today I'll earn my second. I jump in place, suddenly whirl to bring my feet above my head and catch myself by my toes on the chandelier, then swing back and forth on the chamdelier before launching myself forward and sprawling out on the kitchen counter. Safety, I think, too soon as I was still sliding forward until my head smashed through a pumpkin waiting at the end of the counter and I come to a full stop, slurping up raw pumpkin seeds, the only food my doctor will let me eat anymore. But that's not what I'm here for. Carefully avoiding swirling red abyss that used to be the floor, I rummage through the cupboard until I find the oreo cookies. Delicately, I eat every last one then swan dive through the window, landing in a handstand on the bird feeder. Sure enough, the street is lava as well.\n\nGood thing I have all-wheel wheel drive, I think, placong my feet down on the bird feeder and pressing the button on the key fob to unlock my car. I reach around under the bird feeder and grab my hidden lava shoes, which I almost forgot about but not quite. I put them on and do a quick lava run to the car and quickly get in. Ohew, those are only good for a few meters of fast-paced rumning, I think. I turn on my car and press the button that looks like lava. This puts the sedan in lava mode and the wheels turn into propellers so the car can cruise on the lava. \"Welcome back, Seymour,\" says the friendly A.I. who accompanies me on such voyages. I hate his guts, but unfortunately his guts are fused with the machinery of my car, which I love. It's a toxic relationship. Amyway, I put the lava racer into drive and speed up to 30 mph on the highways now made of lava, scouting out fellow survivors.\n\nSure enough, a slick black luxury lava racer pulls up beside me and honks its horn. Wanna race? Sure thing. I try to peer in the tinted windows before realising there aren't any, it's a convertible. These goddamned cataracts!!! Confident kid, he gives me a gleaming smile and his hair looks like a tiny version of Elvis standing on top of his head. I honk back. Let's race. This lava racer may look old and dusty, but I've been working on it my whole life, kid. Don't tell me Henry Ford didn't know how to make a car. My enemy took off like a rocket and the spray of temporarily covered my windshield but I was hot on his heels. I pushed the button right next to the lava button and a Dr. Seuss arm came out of my car and tried to bonk him on the head with a hammer but he swerved to the sjde, fortunately this put me in the lead. \"Oldie, moldy, get a new car you old fogey\" he taunted but I just smirked and shot him a knowing glance. Then I did a sick drift and sprayed lava in his convertible and he got 3rd degree burns and I won the race.\n\nPhew, I thought. On the next adventure." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You wake up on your 12th birthday to discover that you can see how likely it is that someone will die within the next week. Years later during university, you notice that the death likelihoods for everybody in the world are all climbing up to 100%." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "After my 12th birthday, I had stopped visiting people in hospitals. It was just too depressing. Walking through the maternity ward and seeing numbers floating above newborns - one cute little cherub of a girl and a flashing red 98.5%. I found that I could at least nudge things a little. Told the nurse that the baby looked ill and the number dropped to 39% just that quickly. Fate is a bitch sometimes.\n\nI woke up this morning and it was going to be another day. Lit at 9 am. History at 11:30. And then Astronomy at 1. I always looked forward to the Astronomy class. I walked across the quad, barely looking up from my phone and saw a regular day. You'd be surprised to know just about everyone has roughly 36% chance to die within any particular week if you live in a major city. Out in the countryside, it drops down to 14%. The lowest average number I ever saw people walking around with was when I was on Maui - 3%. So I'm sitting in my class, half paying attention to the professor and I see everyone's number in the class cross 50% almost at the same time. Oh crap. Means we have a school shooting in this room coming.. time to make a hasty retreat - looks like I'm going to miss this class the next few sessions. I'll suggest to Gina that she should ditch, too. I whisper in her ear and we sneak out the back door. Going back to my room, I see everyone I walk by is sitting at 55%. So much for the school shooting. Whatever it is will be big. A bomb on campus? Maybe food poisoning in the cafeteria? Time for me to take my butt off to visit some friends in the city. Closing the door, I flip on the TV to the local talk show, and.. uh oh. What the hell? The talking heads are all showing 61%. This is the complete opposite of \"good\". Whatever is coming is regional. I tell Gina to go pack a bag. it is time we visit my friend Edwin in New York. 3000 miles should be enough distance. I better tell him I'm coming and I'm bringing a friend.\n\nThe day is getting later now - Edwin should be home - a quick Facetime to give him the heads up ... No. His number is sitting at 70%. I've known Edwin since we were kids playing in the same mud puddle. He is one of the few people I've told about my peculiarity - and he believes me, and he can tell by the look on my face that whatever I am seeing is not good for him, and next thing I know, I'm picking him and his girlfriend up from the airport in 8 hours.\n\nNothing to do now but wait. I head to my Astronomy class, to kill time and not worry. Cancelled note on the door. Time to worry? When Edwin gets here, maybe we'll all go out and visit my doomsday prepper friend Justin. When I talked to him, his number was 1%. I hope he has room for four more..." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: In the not-so-distant future, everything has been automated and jobs are scarce. There is a Universal Basic Income, but in order to \"earn\" it, people must do fake jobs. There's no conspiracy - everyone knows these are fake jobs, but the idea is to give people purpose." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Everything is ready. Premiere is in 10 seconds.”\n\nI must have done this hundreds of times already.\n\nStanding still on the dark platform, I recited the words and the moves.\n\n5, 4, 3, 2,... The platform slowly rose as the countdown timer ticked away.\n\n1.\n\nAll the world’s spotlights broke upon me, blurring my vision. Before I could recover it, my voice came out with the beats of the music. My legs caught up with the blasting rhythm and dancing lights naturally, blending into the thumping beats. Everywhere I turned, I saw the ecstatic faces of the holographic audiences, and bathed in their screams and cries. I twirled, and they all raised up their hands to grasp my love.\n\nI was the starlight of their most fervent wish.\n\nIt was a concert like any other, where our souls were lost in the chaotic trance of the melody, and we let it whisked us away into the land of bliss, our emotions bleeding into each other. We were no longer parts, but a whole. United and happy.\n\nThe immersion was suddenly broken when multiple viewers started to disappear. The rest didn’t have much time for bewilderment before they too were gone. A flash of glitches appeared before me, and black screen.\n\n“Disconnected from server.”\n\nWith a frustrated sigh, I opened my direct message box.\n\n“Seems like some unknown bugs are causing server issues,” was the latest text from my manager, “I’ll call when it’s fixed.”\n\nI checked my credit balance before logging off and tossing my headset to the side. Silence and the sight of the white ceiling greeted me. I welcomed their peace, because even though I had lowered sensations in the settings, it was still over-stimulating at times. Moving across my small, achromatic room, I reached for a snack, but not before that mirror caught me off guard again. Seeing the reflections in the mirror was always confusing for a split second.\n\nThe view outside of the glass window was the same as ever. The high rise white apartment buildings were dominating the skyline, beneath them were narrow, empty roads that stretched towards all four directions. Each of the rooms was a uniform rectangular block with round corners, slightly protruding out from the building it was attached to. In each of those rooms, through its glass window, there was a familiar sight of a person lying in bed with a headset on.\n\nIt wasn’t like this long, long ago, so I heard. People had to come outside to work, nights and days to feed themselves and their family. Some were struggling to live and provide for their needs. Some worked to death. It was a horrible life, and humanity finally moved past that phase when they completely shifted to automatic labor.\n\nI couldn’t imagine living life as a slave to the system like that. Careers were optional now, we could live in total freedom without ever needing to step out from our home. It was funny because a short while after the complete shift, suicide rates hit an all time high. Perhaps because people weren’t used to it. Corporations and governments worked to implement these game simulations, the UBI, saying something about them lowering the suicide rates.\n\nI had been staring out of my window for way too long now. Has time always moved this slow? I looked over at my headset and picked it up. When would the server be fixed? The more I saw the white walls of this room, the more I felt an emptiness creeping up on me. What was I, when I wasn’t idol Mirelle? When I was Mirelle, I was loved, I was famous. I was nothing now. This feeling of dread was suffocating in this tiny room.\n\nShuddering, I quickly put on the headset. Perhaps going shopping would relieve me of these strange thoughts. There was nothing to do outside but waiting for death anyway.\n\nr/devoneswrites" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Every time you die, you shift to an alternate universe where you continue to live, having survived the thing that killed you in the previous one. You start realizing what's happening." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I should've caught on to the fact sooner, but it wasn't until I was pushed off of a cliff and survived with nothing more than a large scrape on my leg I started to wonder exactly how I was evading death and why everyone I knew had a habit of occasionally not existing. I had multiple weird accidents and situations since birth, things that I shouldn't have survived but somehow did. I got hit by a train as a toddler and escaped with a few broken ribs. After that, I found it odd that no one else seemed to remember that my cousin Natalie existed. I asked about her fairly often until I was convinced that cousin Natalie was just an imaginary friend. When my mother crashed the car with eight-year-old me in the back seat and it rolled into a tree, some of the glass from the windshield embedded itself in my chest. I pulled it out as if it was nothing, unaware that the glass had gone through my heart. The next day, I had a brother who I had no prior memories of. His name was Peter. The next year, Peter and I went to the park where a man pulled a gun from his pocket and started shooting. I remember a bullet entering my back and coming out through my stomach. It went through Peter after that, and it killed him. No one could ever figure out why he died and I lived, but it didn't concern my parents because they were worried about my dying sister Madeline who had, if I remembered properly, never existed until that moment. Every time I should have died, I didn't, and the moment afterwards, another person was either added to my life with no explanation or disappeared and supposedly never existed at all. It wasn't until Rachel Harden threw me off of a cliff for kissing her sort of boyfriend and when I woke up with thirty stitches in my leg and the non-boyfriend no longer existed that I realized something weird was happening.\n\nAfter that, I wrote down the name of every person I knew. I kept the names in a notebook that I hid under my bed, and then started chasing after death. I drowned in a pool, I got in a plane crash, I had a terrible reaction to pineapples, I contracted food poisoning, I played Russian Roulette and lost, and I fell out of a fifth story window. I got in the middle of a gang war, I came down with Ebola, I punctured a lung, I slept outside in the freezing cold in nothing but a bikini, I crammed three times the deadly dose of cocaine into my veins, and I ate more pineapples. And true to my theory, every time I woke up, I had a new brother or sister or step parent or it turned out that my best friend's brother or my uncle's girlfriend or my mother or my neighbor never existed at all.\n\nOnce I knew I was right, I did nothing to change my routine. I stayed in one universe until that one got boring and then I would do something crazy. There were no companions for me, no person that I hadn't been able to turn out of existence with a poorly timed \"accident.\" It was lonely, and after a while, it got boring. I must've lived a thousand lives by now, and every one has begun to look so similar that I've barely noticed the difference between them." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You ignored all the warnings, and stared at the abyss. It blushed." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It wasn't like I hadn't been warned. Don't stare into the abyss, or it will stare back into you. I always thought it was metaphorical, about the darkness inside. But that was before today. Today, something knocked on my door. Opening it, I looked downwards, to find a sort of black fluff standing on my doorstep. It had a face, if not a human one. The eyes were too large, the mouth too small, the nose almost cat-like. And that wasn't even including the horns. Thick and curled like a goat's, it was surprising they didn't stab into the flesh. I stared. It was not the sort of thing you expected to find on your doorstep.\n\nA darker black suffused the fluff's cheeks, and it looked away. As I started to apologize, a tiny, rather squeaky voice interrupted me.\n\n\"It's okay. People don't really look at me anymore. And I always did get easily embarrassed. It's not your fault.\" It managed to look back up, though it didn't meet my eyes. \"I'm the Abyss.\" There were a variety of responses I could have made, each more ridiculous than the next. So I settled for opening the door wider, gesturing inside.\n\n\"Would you like to come in?\" To my surprise, the Abyss floated indoors, not seeming to use any legs. It wandered through to the kitchen, before settling near the table. Following, I asked the only question on my mind.\n\n\"So, why are you here? Not that I mind you coming of course.\" The Abyss stared at me, the oddly dilating pupils a little disconcerting.\n\n\"You called me. I sensed you, and I came.\" I blinked at the answer, trying to remember when I had ever called for an abyss. I had mentioned screaming into the void, but... I suggested this to the Abyss, and it nodded.\n\n\"Yes, I have a few names. Void, Abyss, The Dark. It can get confusing.\"\n\n\"But lots of people talk about that. Why am I different?\" I asked. The Abyss sighed, their face shifting downwards on the fluffy mass.\n\n\"People used to call me all the time. But now that humans stopped believing in magic and legends, no one really has the power of belief anymore. They don't realize that concepts can materialize because of faith in their reality. You still have the old spark left. But only a little. That's why I'm so small.\" I tried not to smile. They were rather tiny, and —to be quite honest— adorable. I had to resist the urge to reach out and pat the Abyss right on the fluff.\n\n\"Well, I definitely believe you're real. But I don't quite feel comfortable screaming at or into you now that I've actually talked to you.\" I said, taking a seat at the table. The Abyss grew slightly larger as if buoyed by the words. They floated a little closer, looking at me with something close to desperate hope.\n\n\"Can I please stay a little while? It is nice to be seen and talked to again. Just for a little bit?\" I smiled, my hand actually fluttering a little before I got it under control.\n\n\"Of course, you can stay. It would be fun to have a bit of company around the old house.\" The Abyss did a little backflip, or at least I think it did. At least the face moved around the fluff one revolution. It floated off, not worrying about the doors, passing through them. Apparently, knocking had just been a bit of politeness. Chuckling, I followed after it, making sure it didn't get lost. The house was technically too large for just me, but it had been an inheritance.\n\nIt's been a few weeks now, and the Abyss hasn't left. I think it was a bit lonely floating about on its own. It has taken up residence mostly in the old observatory, and once or twice I've caught it looking through the telescope, up at the stars. It makes for an interesting house guest, but I don't mind. After all, like the Abyss said, it is nice to be seen and talked to. For both it, and me." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: When you were a child, your parents were killed by a crazy man, claiming to be a time traveler. As you grow older, you begin to realize that you best friend is looking more and more like their murderer." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It all started when I was looking at an old picture of my parents. They were apparently murdered when I was a child, at least that’s what I’ve been told. I always carry the picture that incriminated the murderer in my wallet. He was poised over my parents with a knife out, wearing a ski mask. That mean expression reminded me to never forget. Growing up I felt like an outcast, people would make fun of me for not having parents. They didn’t really know what they were saying, but it still hurt. And it fueled a burning rage inside me, but I didn’t have anything to direct it to. The murderer that had killed my parents was sentenced be executed, and he was gone. He was erased from existence and left a gaping void in my heart.\n\nThat was until I got into college, I met my best friend, Matthew. He had curly brown hair and a pale complexion. He stood at about my height, although we were both fairly short. I opened up to him about my parents and he made me feel safe with him. We played video games and watched movies. We had so much in common. It broke my heart when we finally graduated and I had to stop hanging out with him.\n\nFast-forward a few years and we’ve both got good jobs, he’s a physicist with some big-shot corporation. Good for him. He probably makes 10x what I make, but I’m still happy. One day he gave me a call and asked if he wanted to come down to visit. Well of course, I accepted. I took a flight there the next week, and before we knew it we were in the movie theater, just like old times. We watched the new star-wars movie, which inspired a conversation about technology.\n\nMatthew, being a physicist, mentioned the new time-travel concept that he and his team had been working on. The way he described it was so revolutionary. I thought that surely this will change the world forever. Or maybe it already had.\n\nWhen we got back to our place we just talked for hours, heart to heart. I was happy he was my friend. He told me “If I didn’t have you I don’t know what I would do with myself, you’re the only reason I’m here.” That really struck a chord with me, I felt a true connection with him that I didn’t really have with anyone else. I never had anybody to look up to in my life, so Matthew was just that vital.\n\n“You know, we could actually go back in time and save my parents, if your invention works.” I proposed to him.\n\n“That’s an interesting idea, I wonder what kind of implications that could have though.”\n\n“Well, I wouldn’t know you first of all. I would have grown up in a different place, my circumstances would have been entirely different, but I think that I would have enjoyed it more.”\n\nMatthew just looked at me, with both a contemplative yet scared expression. I could tell he was thinking about something. Before I could ask him what he was thinking about he went to his bedroom, got his coat on and left out the door. He told me he “forgot something at the office.” I saw him throw a knife and a black cloth into his car and drive off.\n\nI pulled my wallet out and looked at the picture in there. I saw the man who killed my parents, he had curls poking out from underneath the mask he wore, and the same knife I saw Matthew drive away with." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: Humanity has finally found a way to stop death. As a result, the poor ol’ Grim Reaper is now out of a job and has to pay a visit to the local jobs centre." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“You’re saying you, reap?”\n\n“That’s right. I’ve been reaping since time immemorial. I have billions of references.” The shady figure, not quite visible if you looked directly at him, reached into the folds of his black-but-not-Black robe to produce a weathered looking scroll.\n\nThe interviewer stopped him short. “Mister Deth, in your farming career did you work with machines of any sort?”\n\n“Yes. I manipulated the wheels of fate on a daily basis. Quite a complicated system. You see-“\n\n“Okay. That’s good. Very good.” The pudgy, balding man looked down to hide his ‘this is ridiculous’ smirk and scribbled something on the CV, written in an odd, brick brown ink, in front of him. “What about computers? Do you know how to use Microsoft Word? Excel? Outlook?”\n\n“Well, I was created by the Word. And I excel at my purpose of keeping a balanced outlook for the human race. Just ask any of your dead relatives, I think their names were-“. He again reached with vaguely skeletal hands for the ancient scroll, and again was cut off.\n\n“That won’t be necessary. So it says here you have military experience? Can you tell me what you did in the military?”\n\n“Yes. I cherish the many opportunities afforded me by the world’s armed forces. I took many men from the place of conflict to their final resting place.”\n\nThe pudgy, pink nosed man looked up from his desk, a look of intrigue in his eyes. He paused, considering his words carefully. “So you have experience with the end of life transition?”\n\n“Oh yes. You might say I’m an expert in that field. That’s why I’m here, there isn’t enough work these days.”\n\nThe pink nosed man looked long and quietly at the framed picture on his desk. A son, about 5 years old, killed in an auto accident shortly before the medical breakthrough that made him and everyone else immortal. A wife, or ex-wife now, he couldn’t stand to look at. He breathed deeply, considering the bottle of rotgut vodka in his desk drawer that didn’t work anymore, since the breakthrough. He smoothed the side of his balding pait with one hand, clasped his hands on his desk.\n\n“Mister Deth, I might have a job for you. Would you care to accompany me back to my house? I can explain more to you there.”\n\nThe reaper paused. A puzzled look shone on his not-quite invisible face. He pulled the tattered scroll from his robe and unwound it carefully. Scarlet letters stood out at the top. ‘Alfred Pinkman, age 53, today, 9:28 pm local time.’ As he read it, several more lines of red copperplate text appeared, different names, dates, locations.\n\n“Actually, Mr. Pinkman,” Deth replied, a satisfied grin on his slightly brighter black face, “I would be delighted to accompany you.”\n\nAs they drove in silence from the job center to Pinkman’s roach-infested apartment across the river, Deth checked the scroll once more. It was rapidly filling with names. He beamed with sinister pride through gray, almost invisible teeth. “Thank you for this opportunity Mister Pinkman. I won’t let you down.”\n\nThe clock on the dashboard of his dilapidated ‘01 Toyota Echo read 9:27 as Pinkman stopped to pay the $8 bridge toll. He put his wallet with his ID, credit cards, and 38 dollars in the collection pan. “Keep the change.” He said to himself, as he gave the gas pedal everything he had." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: Crows remember faces. You learned this as you fed them bits of your sandwich on your way to work. Crows bring humans they like gifts. You learned this as they brought you odd and shiny trinkets in exchange. Today, on your way back from work, they've brought you a package, with a letter inside." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The wind blows in the calm summer twilight of the desert town with the steady sound of traffic coming from a few streets over. I put the cigarette to my lips and look out from my porch at the little neighborhood I've found myself in this year.\n\nAlways moving. Always followed.\n\nThe followers circle the trees across the street from me, cawing and croaking, playing their little crow games. I don't know when I realised they started following me but they were, not in a threatening \"The Birds\" sort of way but that they were my friends sort of way.\n\nI've fed them on and off my entire life and even started trading with them the little trinkets both of us so love finding. The last gift like that was to a big handsome crow I've known has followed me for years, it was a little glass ball with a lily laser etched in it that I found on the side of the road. Amazing what you find when you look down.\n\nMy eyes fix on them as I take another drag and think back to that day long ago that started my obsession, my friendship with these brilliant carrion birds.\n\nRemembering that day when I was so small, the strange croaking noise I heard outside and going to take a look, it didn't sound right like maybe something was hurt? Leaving the door and standing on the porch seeing my father staring up at the sky making that odd noise again. I asked what he was doing and he smiled at me \"why I'm saying hello to that crow up there!\" He pointed up and I saw the black shadow in the sky circling. It made a noise like my dad back at us, a strange croak and then a sharp \"caw!\" and flew off.\n\n\"Why were you talking to it though dad? I thought crows are bad?\" I asked looking up at him feeling anxious. The movies and tv shows always showed them to be mean, right? \"No! No not at all sweetie, especially for us, we're native american the crow has always been our friend, my mother used to call them brother and sister even!\"\n\nSince then I've always made a point to say hello to the big black birds if only because it feels polite and that they understand that much. They do know me though and come by for visits, like I said there are some I really can say have been around for years. Speaking, thinking of the devil the big black crow I gave the glass ball to landed in the railing next to me.\n\n\"Well hello there brother crow! Come to keep me company?\" I ask him as I shoot him a smile \"Or are you just eyeballing my sandwich like usual?\" I tease the bird and flick some crust his way. He hopes over to it and pecks at it. After he is done he looks at me with that sideways head tilt that crow do and flew off.\n\n\"Kay bye, great talk, thanks for stopping by!\" I joke to myself as I take another drag of my cigarette and look down at the sandwich, when I'll eat it I don't know, I think I brought it out mostly for them.\n\n\"CRAW!\" I look up from the sandwich to to a flutter of feathers and see the big crow in front of me again, \"Oh hey you're back\" I greet him and he hops away from me to show he had something in his claw, a small box and what looked like a note, I looked up at him and he croaked and did a little jumping dance saying it was mine.\n\nI picked it up the box and the note, the box was made from shiny metal, maybe silver and the note was folded neatly and sealed in...wax?\n\nI look at the big crow and mouth at him where did you get this? He just shakes out his feathers and hops a little more. I open the note and it read in beautifully written cursive \"Thank you for always watching my pretties and feeding them. Mortals can be so mixed up and rude to them. I loved the lily, very generous of you. Have a gift in return.\"\n\nI blinked and looked at the box. I opened it and I was a cigarette holder! Full already of my favorite brand. I laughed and dropped my cigarette over the railing into the dirt. \"Well shit\" I look down at it, the last one of the pack. \"Oh well got more now huh?\" I laughed and held up the container to the bird. It caw'd and hopped around looking almost excited. \"Wierdo bird\" l mutter with a smile as I pulled a fresh new cigarette from the case.\n\nSuddenly I understood why maybe it seemed excited, before my very eyes the case sprung up a new cigarette! I looked at the case, I looked at the note, I looked at the bird. \"Well here's hoping that these are the kind of magic cigarettes that don't give cancer because I'm never giving it up for saving money now!\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: As a result of their innate immaturity and recklessness, the world decides to lock up all boys at the age of 15 until they are 25. During which the boys are subject to strict discipline and education in \"manhood\" to erase them of any and all immaturity" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Something is wrong about this kid.\n\nHe's not like the others, and hasn't been since he first came in on the bus. The others were anywhere from laughing to crying, joking with friends or tearing up on each others' shoulders. But this kid was just sitting there patiently.\n\nI was on that bus at the time, watching the kids. I needed to make sure they wouldn't try and jump, though very few ever did, and even fewer required me to intervene. The security was top notch, and I was just there to press buttons.\n\nBut occasionally, when there was a special kid, I would walk up to the Warden's office, adjust my cap, and tell him.\n\nUsually the warden would nod once, and then again at the door, indicating for me to leave. After a few days, the boy would leave, and then come back again, but this time he would be... different. Not empty, not at all. What was there was changed, rebuilt, and turned into what the warden called \"A proper gentleman.\"\n\nA few weeks after, the proper gentlemen would be hanging from their ceiling, bedsheet tight against their neck. The other boys in the dorm would stare, until we cut them down.\n\nWhen I first saw this kid, I wasn't sure what to do. He wasn't as much of a nuisance like the others I had reported. He didn't scream and shout and try to rally the other boys. Nor did he act like the quieter ones, who would burst out in a fit of cold rage by themselves, a few weeks after entry. There was nothing in there that I could see.\n\nSo, I didn't alert the warden straight away. I watched him. He would go to bed at Last Bells, wake up at Early Bells, work in his classes, go through etiquette training, and then repeat. He did it all in a form of empty focus, like an autopilot.\n\nSome of his fellow entries tried to bully him. That's when it first went wrong. Even as he never responded, these kids got angrier and angrier, until I had to classify them as nuisances. The warden would nod once, and nod again.\n\nThey would come back as proper gentlemen, and stay as far away as possible from the empty one.\n\nThey would die as proper gentlemen, slowly hanging from their ceiling, bloody messages scraped on the wall that I didn't read.\n\nAnd the empty one would still sit there. A few more kids would come to him, they would become nuisances, then proper gentlemen, then corpses. And he sat there, still empty, always empty.\n\nI decided to report him to the warden. I told the warden of the connections to all the other nuisances.\n\nThe warden paused in his work, looked at me, and nodded. Slower than he usually did. He nodded again to the exit, faster than he usually did.\n\nThe boy disappeared for a few days.\n\nHe came back. And he was a proper gentleman, polite and kind to others.\n\nAs I was walking amongst them, I looked at him, just as he looked at me, and I stared into the emptiness. His lips curled back in a kind smile, and he said he knew what I had done.\n\nI kept walking.\n\nA few weeks later, we found the empty one in his dorm. He was chuckling softly, watching as the other boys all dangled from the ceiling, feet waving." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1300-1400 words. Prompt: You're a kid in a village, living a simple but happy life. There are only two things that trouble you, though no one else seem to care about them: the stone church that has been closed since before you're born; and the fact that all adults in the village have no arms." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The sound of ringing bells flooded the town of Churchstone on a cold Friday afternoon. The end of another school week. Mrs Embers dropped the chalk from her plastic fingers carefully into the tray cradled beneath the blackboard.\n\n“I expect your assignments on my desk first thing Monday morning.”\n\nAnother Bible study exposition, this time Mark 9:43. The class carefully packed their belongings into their uniformed leather bags. Arron Dorsett at a slower pace than most.\n\n“Arron, I would like to see you at the front of the class before you leave,” Mrs Embers spoke above the busying students. Arron felt his heart fall into his stomach.\n\nThe class emptied the room and left the eleven-year-old alone with the old woman.\n\n“It appears there is a matter we need to discuss,” she addressed him as if one of her peers. “As you are well aware, art elective exists as a means for students to express their inner most sensibilities, a privilege laid upon us by The Higher. Not to bring forth into the world the cursed creation I witnessed this morn.”\n\nThe woman brought onto her desk Arron’s morning assignment. A family portrait, of Arron, his baby brother, and his parents, sharing a happy afternoon in the field. An otherwise satisfactory effort that would have pleased The Higher. Only Arron had drawn his parents with no arms.\n\nThe woman looked deeply into the young boy’s pupils, searching for an explanation. Arron wasn’t sure he had one. He didn’t know what had come over him at the time. In the moment, it felt right. It felt necessary. Why would he paint them any other way. He knew the truth. Why go on pretending?\n\nHe knew this was not enough.\n\n“Do you not hear during morning prayer?” The woman’s voice broke the silence, suddenly filling with a burning rage. “Do you not read your nightly verse? Of course you don’t. Or you’re too stupid to understand.”\n\nThe woman violently reached across her desk, grabbing the boy by the throat, tears welling in his eyes.\n\n“You ungrateful little swine. How dare you deface the sanctity of art in this way. How dare you bestow this shame upon your family?”\n\nThe woman pulled the boys face across her desk, tears now running down both his cheeks.\n\n“How dare you attack The Higher in this way. After all that He has provided for us.”\n\nArron felt his bones shake as he felt a depth in the woman’s voice, a deep roar from somewhere outside of the room. At once she let go of her student’s throat and calmly composed herself in her chair as if the event had not just occurred.\n\n“The authorities have been noted,” her voice returning to its calm, feminine octave. “Your parents are waiting for your return home. It is time.”\n\nThe woman turned from Arron and began marking a paper sitting on her desk. Arron, scooping up his leather bag, ran as fast as he could to the school gate.\n\nOnce a safe distance from the school, Arron stopped by a tree to catch his breath. His painting flashed through his mind. He regretted his actions, but there was still an unshakable truth to the image. It wasn’t even his imagination. His parents really did not have any arms.\n\nNeither did anyone over the age of about 20, as far as he could gather.\n\nProsthetics and a range of material substitutes adorned most shoulders now. Stiff, hard, plastic limbs that didn’t bend at the elbow for the older folk, often a generic pink hue resembling the skin of an unmatched man. A cupped palm frozen in time useful enough for basic tasks. A hooked contraption of metal and leather for the middle aged generations. Lightweight, futuristic devices for the younger folk, many with finger joints. An outsider might not even recognise a missing limb at all.\n\nBut what Arron had come to know, from as far back as he could remember, a word had never been spoken on the matter. Since he was a young child nursed in his mother’s cold, silver embrace, this was the way it was. Mrs Embers didn’t even address the issue surrounding the painting herself. Just the same unspoken secrecy. As if the act of knowing, of being aware of the secret, was worse than the secret itself.\n\nBut as recently as a few months ago, the thoughts had started creeping into the back of Arron’s mind. How could no one else notice. How could no one else say a word. This ghastly unspeakable secret that everyone was in on. Maybe that’s why he decided to put it onto paper. If he could see it in front of him, perhaps it could be questioned out loud.\n\nArron continued his journey home. He intended to draw it out as long as possible, but knew there were limits. It would be getting dark before long and the patrols would soon be out. He did not know what awaited him at home, but he couldn’t risk the added consequences of arriving in the back of one of their dark grey vans as well.\n\nIt is time.\n\nThe three words repeated in his mind over and over. He wasn’t quite sure just what his teacher had meant, but he knew the horrors conjured by his imagination could not be far from the truth.\n\nHe had heard the tales, spread among the lunch yard. Always whispered in secret, the children could only imagine such a punishment for such an act.\n\nMost centred around the old stone church on the highest hill overlooking the village. Closed to the villagers, but never empty. From here, The Higher would survey, control, and rule their people. A group of mysterious men rarely seen among the village folk, instantly identifiable by their black robes and red bird-like masks. The children were never taught their intentions. Only that they were keeping them safe. Safe from Him.\n\nThe stories supposed they were sacrificing villagers, burning their flesh to fulfil an insatiable appetite of some unseen beast.\n\nThe stories would come and go in waves, often coinciding with movement at the church. Every few months, a thick cloud of black smoke would stream from the tall stone chimney, painting the town in a thick putrid smog that Arron sometimes associated with the scent of burning hair.\n\nOf course, beyond the whispers of the playground, it was never actually spoken about. Just stories made up to scare their fellow classmates. That was all. Nothing more.\n\nThe old stone church came into view through a clearing in the trees. Arron paused, the mere sight dragging him to the darkest corners of his imagination. As he stood, the empty sky hanging over the building began to fill with smoke.\n\nBy the time Arron had reached his precinct he couldn’t escape the smell.\n\nArron turned into the lane that held his small cobblestone cottage. Approaching his home, his heart pounded in his ears as the scattering of dark grey vans came into view.\n\nHe heard voices coming from the kitchen as he made his way down the hall. A soft murmur of deep whispers, growing louder as he came to the doorway.\n\n“My dear.” His mother stood with tears in her eyes. Her voice quivering as she spoke.\n\nHe turned into the room, his father at the kitchen table. Across from him, two men cloaked in black with faces of blood.\n\nHe screamed as a third covered his face with a white calico sack.\n\n# # # # #\n\nMrs Embers returned the marked assignment to the pile. She drew a breath and opened the top drawer of her wooden desk. Placing it on the surface in front of her, she opened the book, her plastic fingers finding Mark 9:43. A page inked in her mind from her own transition, many moons ago.\n\nIf your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life crippled, than having your two hands, to go into hell, into the unquenchable fire.\n\nArron would be first. The rest would follow.\n\nIt was time indeed." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: After a drunk driver collides with you at a crosswalk, it’s a miracle you survive. The driver was never found, much less charged. After years of rehab, you can walk again. You and your family go to a bar to celebrate, only to find sitting at a crowded table, is the guy that caused your accident." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "After some gentle persuasion I finally decide to accompany my family out in celebration. After all, it has been about 6 months since I've been able to walk, and about a year and a half since I've been able to eat on my own. I haven't had any beer or alcohol in years due to all the different therapies and pills I'm forced to take to try to regain feeling in my limbs.\n\nAs my family and I made our way to our table, my father immediately saw something was wrong. Later conversation revealed that he thought my paralyzation had returned. Apparently I just stopped in mid motion while walking. How could I not though, when I just saw the scariest thing I've ever seen? Actually the second scariest the scariest thing I ever saw was my recovery pictures. What stopped me in my tracks immediately, seated two tables away from where my family and I were to sit, was the drunk driver that hit me and put me into 3 years of therapy. 3 years of painful, gruesome, expensive, hell.\n\nMy family had nearly broken themselves, not just financially, but physically, attempting to save my life, and after saving it, attempting to restore some sense of normalcy. any hope of a normal retirement for my aging parents had gone out the window, straight to the $3 million of medical bills, physical therapy, pills and psychotherapy. Don't get me wrong, each member of my family says it was worth it, no question, but knowing that I could never repay them for my restoration gnaws at my soul.\n\nAs I stood there in a daze, watching the man who had put my life into a blender, sitting there casually talking to people, my family gathered around me, quietly attempting to find out what was wrong. All I can do is watch him though. It took what felt like an eternity for me to actually see, and hear what was going on.\n\nAs my grip on reality slowly returned, and some semblance of thought reestablished itself, I began to hear what the man was saying. It sounded like he was begging, no, pleading with someone. What was he asking them though? It was hard to make it out at first.\n\nMore and more recognition of the words he was saying drifted through my mind. \"Please! At least give me your keys if you won't stop drinking! Don't do what I did! You know I ruined my life, and I know I ruined yours! All the years I spent in therapy after I caused that accident. I was in too much pain at the time to know I was hurting you. Don't do the same thing to yourself! Let me help you son!\"\n\nThe words barely even registered with meaning. Flashes of anger and nausea, heat and cold flash through my body. I watch as the man's son gets up from the table, throwing a wad of money down. The son pushes his way past his father, heading toward the exit. The father tries to follow, however a prior unnoticed friend of the son pushes him back down, waving a finger in front of his face. \"Don't follow us.\"\n\nThe man, that's all I can call him has I never knew his name. That man. That's all I've ever known him by. That asshole. That piece of shit less than human being who I would have liked to smother under my boot heel a million times if I could have moved my leg! Or knew where he was. He now sits in front of me, not 20 feet away. Is my foot strong enough to smother him I wonder?\n\nThat man sits there, weeping into his palms. He glanced at the table in front of him, at the half-empty glasses of alcohol sitting in front of him. He reached out to touch one. As he touched the glass, he pulled his hand back sharply, as if the glass had burned his finger. Hey jumped up from the table, and as he begins to make his way to the exit, his eyes catch mine. We stare an eternity at each other, in the blink of an eye. He shakes his head as if to clear his mind and then swiftly heads out.\n\nIt finally registers that my father is still trying to figure out what's going on with me. My mother is doing her best attempt to shake me gently, thinking there might be something physically wrong with me. With tears willing in my eyes, I turned to my parents. \"I'm okay, I'm okay. Just overwhelmed.\"\n\nThe smile returns to my father's face, if just for the briefest of moments. \"Being out in public again with all the sounds and lights must be pretty unnerving\" my father says. \"We'll get you seated and if you want to go home we can.\"\n\nI ponder for the briefest of moments, what to say, what to do. I hear several gasps as the next words leave my mouth. \"There's nothing wrong with me. But the man that just left is the man that did this to me.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: A group of people are in a bar, with one boasting about being a major figure in an important historical event. A newcomer overhears and says \"I don't remember you.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In Corsica, people knew me as a war hero. When I sat at the bars, or lounges, discussing my tales of valor serving under the armies of Napoleon, people gasp in awe in my adventurous undertakings. At least, that’s what I wanted them to think. It was one of those times, I sat in a small bar near a port, talking with former veterans of the war.\n\n“...and I led the charge of the cavalry into the British lines, singlehandedly winning the battle. You should have seen it. The cries of the horses and men, the slashing of swords, a truly epic battle, to say the least. It was such a decisive course of action that Napoleon himself promoted me.\n\nA veteran next to me spoke up. “Ah, I was in that battle too! Remember the 8th infantry behind you as you charged, and we arrived in that mess to help you clean up?”\n\n“Uh... yeah, yeah! I remember you guys.”\n\nAcross the bar, sitting at the table alone, a man spoke up. “Hmph. I don’t remember you.”\n\nI turned to face him.\n\n“Oh yeah? And - who might you be? You probably don’t even know who I am. The Great Sergeant Michél, you know, the charge of the curassiers in 1811, my one-on-one sword fight with a Russian officer?”\n\nThe man rose and approached us, the candle light was hardly able to illuminate his face, and his beard covered his lower half. He chuckled. “Right, and I also assume you killed an Austrian General with a pistol only 100 meters away too?”\n\nI stuttered. My comrades turned to me in confusion. “Yes, of course I did that! In 1806 during a skirmish in Bavaria I unholstered my pistol and fired across a creek, landing a shot into the Austrian’s chest. Napoleon presented me with an award for valor that day.” The men next to me looked in awe at me. I still had them believing, for now.\n\nThe stranger prevented himself from breaking into laughter. “I do hope you know that the only Austrian general that died in Bavaria was killed by a sword, right? A sword from a Hussar? And believe me I know this, I was there too, and in fact, in know the very man who struck him down. I met him in person, you could say.” The veterans stared at me in confusion.\n\nMerde. He was on to me, but how? How did he know it was not me? The only people in that skirmish was our regiment and the 3rd Hussars, and Napoleon himself. Suddenly I had the curiosity to ask. “Who are you, monsieur?”\n\nThe stranger brought the candle closer to his face, and it was almost as if that beard had disappeared, because I knew who it was.\n\nI remained there, stunned, as did the other veterans. One of the soldiers broke out and almost shouted as he kneeled, “L’emperur!”\n\nIt couldn’t be, Napoleon was in exile, in some obscure island in the Mediterranean. How had he got here?\n\nThe other soldier kneeled as well. I remained in my seat. “How did you get here? Why are you here?”\n\nNapoleon Bonaparte I, Emperor of France, looked almost angry at me, but then he calmed his expression. “Well, ‘Sergeant Michél’, if you must know, I have come to reclaim the throne, and restore France to its rightful state. The order of Europe has been shattered and it is up to me and my Army to restore it. I’ve already assembled some followers outside. And seeing as you are so skilled in combat, you wouldn’t mind leading the Curassiers once again?”\n\nMy mind shot off like a cannon. I stumbled over my own thoughts, and reluctantly said, “Yes, emperur! Anything for you!” I rose and saluted him, and escorted the soldiers out of the bar to meet the rest of the troops.\n\nMy dignity had been saved, Napoleon was a kind emperor, at least. And he had given me a promotion in person, if you could call it that.\n\nLeading an elite cavalry regiment couldn’t be that hard... could it?" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You are a contract killer for hire. You're not just any professional hit man though; you are that very rare breed of mercenary that takes orders from the dead. Making hits for the dearly departed has made you very wealthy indeed, but it wasn't about the money. It was never about the money." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It'd been years since I picked up the first job. It was silly really how I had gotten here in the first place. My Aunt and Uncle owned the local mortuary for my Mom who taught me everything I know.\n\nContract killers were so common now-place. But I remember the first job like it was yesterday.\n\nAunt Laura was out with her husband on a date night and I was trusted to sweep the morgue. It was cold there. Exhausting work but it had to be done after all bodily fluids, accumulated amounts of ash not quite making it into the urn. Dead skin from dead bodies that came in and out of the Stockson's family mortuary.\n\nBut one of the bodies was on a table, covered by a rag that one of the other workers would put into the cremation machine here soon while the ashes from the previous body cooled enough to be handled. I walked by, broom in hand. It was never weird for me. Death was normal, it happened to everyone and even though I couldn't talk about it my mom killed people for heaven's sake! But this was different. When I was sweeping by the body it grabbed my arm and I screamed.\n\nBut the old man's cold rigor mortis stricken hand patted my arm to calm me down.\n\n\"Please don't scream.. I need help..\" he said in such a quiet voice. And he seemed like he really meant it.\n\nThe body whispered how he was murdered. He had died supposedly from an accident involving stairs when in fact his aging body had been shoved by his own son who wanted the life insurance.\n\nI don't know why I was just okay with this. I was a kid at the time seventeen or eighteen. But I had always been told by my mom, dead men tell no lies. When I told him I believed him, he shrank back under the sheet and the other workers bursted through the door to check on me. Then he put the old man's body in the cremation machine and I knew I had to do something.\n\nDays later my mom was back, hiding in our little mortuary waiting for the next job, but that's when I told her about the man in the morgue. I didn't understand why she was so happy at first until she told me.\n\nSomething about our connection to the dead through the mortuary service and a necromancer thousands of years ago.. it was.. crazy. And she helped me track down the specific son and get rid of him while my mom helped me with the evidence. I saw the old man again when I fell asleep and he looked young and alive telling me he could rest easy knowing his son didn't get to get away with all of that. And there was such a great satisfaction. I talked with all the bodies from then on, not a lot animated but I knew I wanted to help the ones that died with unfinished business. Even if all the time they weren't right morally, what else was I supposed to do?\n\nI took out a cheating wife, more life insurance policy scammers, colleagues who cheated them out of pay. All to let these people rest.\n\nHell I even took out the woman who killed my mother\n\nThen there was the man in the fire.\n\nHe had a special request. I burn his father's house down to pay for him setting fire to the dead man's house. And then you got me...\n\n-\n\nThe officer looked at the one way window and looked back at the disheveled young woman.\n\n\"So tell me, Stockson, how many did you kill because dead men told you to?\"\n\n\"The man from the fire would have been my 20th.\" The woman spat back. The officer stood up. Not ready to call it in yet.\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Because it's about having dignity in the afterlife.\"\n\nThe cop chuckled, nearing the door and putting his hand on the handle. \"On twenty accounts of murder you won't have dignity after the Sparks fly. Sounds like a confession boys, lock her up!\"\n\n(Edit: fixing spacing errors)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: The Illuminati is a real organization, but instead of being a secret society bent on world domination they try to stop other secret societies who are bent on world domination as a group of vigilantes that work in secret." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lady Gaga and Katy Perry step quietly out of an unmarked black Mercedes in a remote village in Switzerland. The hotel porter looks like a biker gang kingpin, and the pop superstars ensure their hands are securely on their mind control devices. As high ranking secret agents of the world's only law enforcement agency designed to control multinational cabals, they had every reason to be nervous.\n\nToday they were taking on the Knights of Malta, and couldn't possibly afford to screw up.\n\nThey flashed a number of subtle Illuminati hand gestures and the porter responded by switching into his natural reptilian state.\n\n\"Follow me, ladies\" he hissed. As he scurried up the steps into the hotel, the singers let out a quiet prayer to Satan, thanking him for keeping them safe.\n\nThey scan the room around them with invisible subtlety. A few CIA types in the corner, possibly Freemasons converse with several Zionist conspirators.\n\nThis was what they had come to fix. With the changing landscape in the middle east, and the recent changes in the demonic structure, the Zionists were switching their allegiance to the Freemason ran CIA. This meant bad news for the Illuminati who had succeeded in infiltrating all levels of the Zionist's former allies, the Roman Catholic secret societies -- primarily the Knights of Malta.\n\nThe ladies hop in the elevator to their room and begin their ritual. Summoning Satan isn't easy, and achieving it on a global scale through the use of MTV was probably their best plan yet. It could all go wrong though.\n\nIf the Freemasons had any idea that their arch enemies were about to achieve control over every single demon, archon, and ET on earth they would unleash hell. You may have heard of the distraction they let wild the last time the Illuminati almost achieved this -- World War 2. It took 12 million blood sacrifices for them to regain the loyalty of the Satanic council, and now the Illuminati, unbeknownst to the Freemasons, is just 3 months away from achieving it.\n\nBy embedding Satanic possession rituals into the lyrics and dances of their music, they were about to sell the soul of every westerner to Satan. In return, he is to drop his allegiance to the Freemasons and give the Illuminati the full power they once held back in the days of ancient Egypt.\n\nLady Gaga sets up a pentagram and a few other ritual summoning implements and gets to work.\n\nAs she begins to chant a strange, rhythmic, mysterious, almost catchy stream of ancient words, the dark master appears.\n\nDick Cheney. He looks around the room cautiously. This wouldn't be the first time angels or priests had tried to trap him. Realizing he is in good company he lets the image fade. Switching to his trans dimensional reptilian true form, the horns and red scaly skin seem to please the two young Illuminati agents.\n\n\"We have 1.6 billion confirmed. We are approximately 6 months from hitting 2 billion. Our sources in the Freemasons lead us to believe they may be onto us. We wish to ask your knowledge to see what risks we may face in the coming months.\"\n\n\"That is not my concern, it is yours.\" the former Vice President, and king of hell growled.\n\n\"Except that the spell the Freemasons would use could turn all 2 billion into sworn followers of Jesus. The souls are spell bound, but the possession has not been done.. If this is achieved, we have lost all control of the world. Bilderberg, Skull and Bones, it will have all been for nothing. The great war will have been lost. I dated Russel Brand for this mission. The least you can do is tell me what they know\" Katy Perry demands.\n\n\"Very well...\", Satan looks up towards the sky and breathes. Black steam from his nostrils rise into the sky, gradually turning into white straight lines. The chemtrails fly out across europe. Small particles of his essence dropping into Freemason meeting halls all over the world.\n\nMeanwhile, in London, a tall Alien is in a heated conversation with Richard Dawkins. \"We know what they are trying to achieve, but we don't know how they are doing it yet. Somehow billions of souls have become open for possession. Yet nobody has possessed them yet. My little tract attempting to close their minds to the possibility of the supernatural only made them more open to it.\" ... \"You fucked up big time\" the alien responds.\n\n\"What are our options?\" Jay-Z asks, careful to not sound too eager to report back to his Illuminati masters.\n\n\"Well, there is two: HAARP or the Nuclear option\" ... \"Whats the nuclear option?\" ... \"We unleash the ark of the covenant. \"\n\n\"What will that do?\"\n\n\"We dont know... but supposedly if we pour the holy grail into it, Jesus will return. Or if we give it to Satan, he gives us a 10,000 year lease on all the souls.\"\n\nJay Z ponders Dawkins reply as he considers his options. He's got 99 problems to deal with, and being a Freemason/Illuminati double agent was most definitely one of them.\n\nJay Z feels the familiar buzz of an MK Ultra message. Assassination attempt incoming. He looks out the window to spot a Malaysian Airlines flight careening towards the building. He cant move any faster as he sprints towards the basement.\n\nAs the air turns to sulphor, he barely manages to slam shut the blast door to protect himself. If the Illuminati just teleported a plane to kill two top Freemasons, that meant war. Who knew how long until Mossad organized another 9/11. This was dangerous times." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 600-700 words. Prompt: Leonardo DiCaprio finds out that all these years he has been invited to fake academy awards, with the real ones only starting after he left." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He was lying on a sofa in his living room of a neat mansion somewhere in Los Angeles, staring at the ceiling lit by a dim, warm light. The beat of \"One Love\" from the album Illmatic, was interrupted by the classic jingle of his land line telephone.\n\nBrrr. Brrr..\n\n\"Hello?\"\n\nA deep slighlty raspy voice came from the receiver. His head vibrated a little bit as the other end of the line speaked.\n\n\"Hey, Leonardo. Here´s George. How are you?\", he recognized the voice.\n\n\"Oh, hey. I´m good and you?\"said Leonardo Dicaprio, knowing that somebody like Geroge would never call him without a reason. Their relationship worsened from not-really-knowing-each-other to emberassing for Leo after... He didn´t want to think about what happened in Mexico after he and his buddies challenged Clooney and his, talking too big in correlation to the result of the match.\n\n\"Yeah, I´m doing well... So... we have to talk, Leonardo.\"\n\n\"Fire awai.\", Leo tried to act cool, but he couldn´t hide completely that his heart just skipped. Yet he still had no clue what this man was about to say to him.\n\n\"Well.. You may already that you haven´t won a significant academy award since your career started, despite your ability to display characters reliably or more-to-the-point credibly. This is a great accomplishment for a \"youngster who will kick your ass in a 3 vs 3\". Remember?\"\n\nLeo felt good to be talked so highly by a great in his realm, nonetheless, he blushed. Even when he lauded him, he yet had to mention this stupid game of basketball.\n\n\"Yes I remember..Thank you. I feel honored. \", he said hesitantly.\n\n\"Anyways... We´ve been worried about you, that you may not respect our intern awards. At the first Oscars you have been invited to, I think you may not remember much of it anymore, you had drunk a little too much champagne. I do remember it still vividly how you were lying one the ground laughing after the journalists had left. And the following year, you repeated your behaviour. Until you grew old enough not to repeat what you´ve been doing for so long. \"\n\nDicaprio felt a slight aversion to this man, knowing so much of his misbehaviour.\n\nLeonardo didn´t say anything.\n\nHe continued to speak.\n\n\"Well, so in the last few years, a thought started growing in us. We thought that you may not know anything about our own Academy Awards, just between actors, where the publicity is absent. We were concerned that you just didn´t like any of us. As your colleagues. So I just wanted to tell you that there is another Academy Awards, where you may play a more significant role in our business than in the public one. \"\n\nThe young man felt emberassed for not having a clue about when the secret show started. He never tried to be especially rude to all his colleagues, but he seemingly was. He just grew up in a normal neighbourhood where every weekend is deeply correlating with alcohol entering and leaving the body of underage teenagers. (Germany rocks! whooo!)\n\nLeo speaked as politely as he could, feeling insecure.\n\n\"Of course I never wanted to offend anyone. Especially not a great personality like you. But may I be rude enough to ask where the awards will be held this year?\"\n\nThe man laughed heartily for a moment.\n\n\"I knew that you had no clue what was going on. Just try to stay long enough this year without being so emberassed about your past appearances and you´ll notice it this time when the cameras head home. And don´t fall too much this time. See you then, young man. \"\n\nA very deep voice could be heard, laughing sincerely, as Leo noticed that the other line put the receiver back." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: You are the retired most dangerous villain, infamous for your deeds. A group of young heroes seek you out; A new evil has risen, and they need your help." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I'd had a good hundred years of lordship before I was dethroned. The only reason that my unlife was spared was because I had encased my phylactery in concrete after feeding it a few elder dragon's souls, so it would be good for the next half-millennium. As a lich, this was a bit of a silly move. I now knew the exact date and time of my death, and it was only a matter of time. Not only that, there was still the possibility that they would tear up the floor and happen upon the phylactery.\n\nIt was a strange thing, nobody knew where it was except me. But I was no longer able to access it, as it was under the throne, which the current king now sat upon. Hypothetically I could barge in and steal it back, but I found myself realizing that I couldn't bring myself to care enough to do so. I'd heard of unrest in the city to the east, but who knows what the cause of it could be.\n\nCurrently I resided in the castle's lowest dungeon. I was physician of sorts, though few were aware that I had never been properly disposed of. All of the guards that had taken me down here were long dead of old age, and since then only the king and his closest advisers had knowledge of my existence.\n\nThis is why it caused me some concern when I heard many feet outside of my cell door. I put down my mortar and pestle, the herbs inside still unground. I was working on a kind of healing potion. Not one that could cure my condition or extend my life, but one that could regrow my flesh for me. It had been a long time since I'd looked in my reflection and seen anything other than a skeleton with a faint purple glow coming from my skull; I'd forgotten what I looked like.\n\nI still had access to most of my magic, and even with the dampening spell placed on my cell I could still muster up enough for a good fireball. I readied myself. I cast a few weak defensive spells in case they wanted to get physical with me.\n\nThe wooden door burst open and a few young people came pouring into the room. Two of them rushed the cell bars while the rest launched attacks from a distance. It had been a while since I'd been assaulted like this. The ranger's arrows struck true and lodged themselves in my eye sockets. Meanwhile, one of the people who had rushed me was yelling as he struck down my cell doors and came closer to me.\n\nThe one who was yelling was clearly an experienced barbarian, seemingly a half-orc. Since I'd lost sight of the other one who rushed me, I figured they were a rogue of some stripe. Probably an Assassin.\n\nThe ranger seemed to be a half-elf. She nocked another arrow. The other two party members seemed to be magic users, though I couldn't tell what kind, as they had yet to actually begin casting anything. The heavy armor on the dwarf indicated he was likely a cleric or paladin. The other wore only cloth.\n\nThe one wearing cloth interested me the most. They were young, which usually meant they were either a sorcerer or warlock, who received powers from some means other than study. Most sorcerers were either mutants from an otherwise normal family or they had some sort of fae or draconic lineage. She wasn't particularly attractive and I couldn't see scales, but that didn't mean there wasn't some other kind of tell on her body. In any case, she was my biggest worry.\n\nWhile I was thinking about all of this, the rogue had managed a sneak attack on me. The weak defensive spells I had cast weren't particularly helpful. I was so glad that all of my nerve endings had been gotten rid of after I died. This assault would have hurt a lot more if I could feel it.\n\nUnfortunately for them, it was my turn to retaliate. I mustered up all the arcane power that I could and cast a fireball where the three at the entrance stood. Not one of them managed to dodge it, and just like that their party's strength had more than halved.\n\nThe barbarian and the rogue stood at the entrance of my cell, unsure of what to do.\n\n\"For what purpose have you come, adventurers?\" I asked them in common.\n\n\"We were told that you had been deposed nearly a century ago.\" said the rogue. He may not look it, but he seemed to have a silver tongue. Even so, their accent was strange. How long had it been since I spoke to people? Was this one a foreigner, or had language changed so much since I had been imprisoned?\n\n\"Correct, and now I'm retired. I have no treasures for you to take,\" I said, shaking off my robe to show I held nothing.\n\n\"What we seek is information,\" the rogue continued. It occurred to me that I couldn't see their face, and their androgynous voice made me unsure of their sex.\n\n\"Then why attack me? I've no incentive to give you anything.\" I was beginning to get irritated. The three near the entrance were beginning to move again. I hoped that they had learned their lesson. They seemed like they were competent adventurers.\n\n\"We needed to ascertain that you still had your skills.\" The rogue's voice slipped into a higher octave. Their confidence seemed somewhat shaken.\n\nThe barbarian seemed to be getting impatient. He fidgeted in place with his battleaxe, but continued to hold his tongue. He was built like a tank. He had a small totem on his hip in the shape of a bear.\n\n\"It nearly cost your friends their lives,\" I said, motioning to the door. The barbarian looked, the rogue kept their eyes locked on me. I looked into them. They were a bright yellow that almost glowed in the darkness of the dungeon. I got a better look at their figure. It seemed to be a female tiefling.\n\nThe rogue continued, \"We need your assistance.\"\n\nIf I'd had flesh I would have looked bemused." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You're a novice superhero. Your first attempt at goodwill results in the death of a criminal by your hands. You find your powers have increased, but so has a sense of bloodlust." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "First time posting here. Please give me criticism.\n\nMother had always told me to be good. She never wanted me to hurt anyone and while I had never killed anyone it takes a special person to reason with a toddler who could tear apart a building.\n\nStrength was one of the first attributes I gained. I was an altogether normal child until I squished that ant and absorbed its power if you could call it that. You see, my super power isn’t super strength, the hearing I took from an owl, nor the bulletproof hide I took from that pike, a great catch if I do say so myself. Rather, I absorb the specialties of the things I kill.\n\nMother wanted me to be good.\n\nShe left me however when that bullet tore through her. I remember his face, the lecherous leer and the hatred in his eyes. I ran like the deer I hunted near our mountain home. That was five years ago.\n\nWhen I finally stopped running, rage overtook me. I screamed rage to the moon and I swore no other child would ever see their mother ripped away from them as I had. I swore vengeance but I was not ready.\n\nMother wanted me to be good.\n\nI traveled the world hunting animals so I would have the strength to exact my revenge. I swore I would be good. I would help those in need and I did. I traveled the jungles of south America and helped villagers erect their home while hunted stealth. I plowed Kenyan fields while I searched for my lion heart. I sheltered travelers as I searched for balance in the Himalayan mountains. And I fed the hungry while gaining tracking prowess. I was ready.\n\nMother wanted me to be good.\n\nI started my guest searching for stolen children. It’s easy to find them when you have their scent and easier to steal them back when you can see the infrared sensors guarding rich men’s homes. I spent time fighting fires and searching for lost hikers but my rage was unabated and my vengeance unfulfilled. I found him though.\n\nMother wanted me to be good but mother, I am grown.\n\nI laughed when his knife slid off my skin and he ran. He cannot hide. I brought the police with me to his wretched hovel. He stood before us with a woman in his grip. I saw her eyes, pleading like my mother’s as they darted to a child beside them. I felt rage and darted in faster than any human had moved before. I broke his arm in three places before he could move but I was not done, my rage was alight and I broke him.\n\nI felt silence. The police swarmed by and the sergeant told me I did well, the courts would understand. He lasted three days in the intensive care unit but I knew when he finally passed. Animals are one thing, I killed them for their power but no matter how much they seem intelligent, loving, and emotional the only thing that transferred was their power. This was different. I suddenly understood the world. It’s a dark and evil place where the only way to survive is to take what is rightfully yours. I was free.\n\nMother wanted me to be good, but dearest mother, I am no longer me." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You have been staying awake for years to scape Freddy Krueger. You have been using drugs, spicy food, whatever you can to stay awake. Over the years Freddy went from wanting to kill you, to be genuinely concerned about what the lack of sleep is doing to your health." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Look man,” the evil specter was trying to act friendly again, but I wouldn’t fall for it, “I haven’t killed someone for at least 5 years, and you somehow haven’t slept for that long. At first I thought sweet a challenge, then I respected your drive to survive, but now I’m just shocked you somehow are not dead. Most pass out after 2 or 3 days, you are pushing 5 years. Either you died and didn’t know it or you are a tap away from dying.”\n\nI would respond to him but I had to keep still so the constant hot sauce applying machine, my own invention, would keep spray directly on my taste buds when I got drowsy. So, I simply stared daggers at him as he stood in. Hang on a second how was he outside of the dream world!!?? He smiled, “oh no I’m sleeping,” I thought to myself.\n\n“Ok by the terror in your eyes I guess you realized I’m here for real,” his smile dropped, “but that’s not because your asleep!” His voice seemed to boom around me. “I tried to hide in you subconscious and wait until you fell asleep, and into my domain, but you just wouldn’t sleep! WORSE!! You were so fixated on me, and thought of me so much that I couldn’t leave. After month 2 of your miraculous no sleep marathon, I tried to go kill some guy across the street, I mean he sleeps and I could have used the distraction, but apparently I’m trapped in your mind! Even better is you think of me so much that now I am stuck in reality! I HATE REALITY!” His screaming stopped and I saw his head drop as he swiftly turned away from me.\n\n“I know your games,” I thought as a spray of Diablo maximum heat hit the back of my throat, “nothing will fool me! Try any game you want. I will not be,” my thoughts were interrupted by a sound I never expected, crying.\n\n“Man my life was great. Enter a few dreams off some suckers. Do whatever I wanted. Now,” he turned to look at me, face red and eyes full of tears, “I have to eat, drink, use the toilet, but I don’t get to sleep or dream, and I’m pretty sure that’s your fault.”\n\n“Being human isn’t that bad,” I sputtered between sprays before quickly readjusting the sprayer.\n\n“Oh but it is!” He bellowed, “especially when I am stuck linked to you! All day it is the same thing. You do everything you can to save energy, so you never move! You only sustain yourself on greasy food and flaming hot sauce that you have delivered to your door and dumped into a literal funnel that mulches it and delivers it to your mouth. You work from home, and work everyday doing IT, and I don’t understand any of it. You use the toilet where you sit and it is supposed to fall into a trapdoor, but let me tell you it doesn’t always. So this house reeks,” he dropped to the ground defeatedly, “man I know why humans dream. Reality sucks. I can’t live like this and I don’t know how you are alive living like this. Please just sleep so I can too. This is just,” he stopped again and just stared off into space.\n\nFor the first time in years I looked around my house. It was horrifying. Feces strewn across the floor, bugs everywhere, and the smell started to slowly hit me. “Ok,” I sputtered as I spit out the sprayer, “this might’ve gone too far. Just don’t kill me when I fall asleep.” He looked at me with a broken smile, and started to fade as all the drugs and spices subsided to let me sleep.\n\n“Welcome to dreamland my unbeaten foe,” a voice startled me as I shot my eyes open. There was a man in a suit standing there. He looked familiar but different.\n\n“Freddy?” I asked both scarred and confused, “you said you wouldn’t kill me!”\n\n“Not here for that. After seeing how rough humans have it I don’t want to wreck their only happy place. But, you are never waking up man,” he said while laughing.\n\nI looked at him in terror, “why?”\n\n“Dude you are like shit, lived in literal shit, and never slept. I say you have 5, 6 seconds tops till your body gives out on you.” As he finished I saw the edges of my dream fading. “Hopefully it is painless and not horrific like my old handiwork. Either way, thanks for setting me straight and free. Now sleep. God knows you need it.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: \"When I was little, I believed that all it took was the right words to make someone love you...\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I don't know who told me that fable. Maybe my dad or one of my uncles, they were always the ones most likely to spin a tall tale. Still, I believed it then, even though they didn't tell me when I asked what those words were. I grew up believing it, as it was never really explicitly refuted and the older I became, the harder that conviction grew. So yeah, call me dumb, but I really did believe that all it took were the right words. I guessed a lot what those words are, but I never thought I got them right. Still, I tried. Always on the same girl.\n\nI don't know... I guess I've always been a fool for love. I never stopped loving that girl and never had eye for others. First saw her in kindergarten, we grew up together. We used to play together on the streets with the other kids from the neighbourhood, playing football. She always had that intelligence in her eyes, that stoic calm. So I always stuck by her. ''You're pretty.'' I told her when I was five. She smiled and patted me on my head before moving on. That was attempt number one.\n\nStill, I wasn't disheartened. In elementary school, every Valentine's day I would write a shitty poem or whatever. I got laughed at a lot, but her reaction was always the same, quiet gratitude without really returning affection. That shut my ever-varied public declarations of love up, I guess. I distanced myself from her, but I just couldn't stay away. Though she went to a different middle school, I sent her gifts for her birthday and wrote letters, though those words didn't inflame her either. Eventually she stopped returning letters and I stopped writing them.\n\nWe only met again in high school, where she had only grown ever more wise and ever more beautiful. My heart ached at the sight of her, because I had begun to give up hope of ever seeing her again. It hurt to see her with the knowledge it was never really going to happen. Even though I knew that, I clung to the belief of the magic words! So, I spoke to her again. She didn't recognize me at first though, but we became re-acquainted. I just wanted to be her friend, just to be in her presence. It never really came to that, but we spoke often. Even so, I could never get any closer to her. Boyfriends came and went, but I was always locked out of any position in her heart.\n\nIn hindsight, I was such an obsessive fool. The right words? Had I not tried everything? All the words in the dictionary, from aardvark to zylophone? Fuck if I knew. I was just tired. It was senior prom night and I just sat outside, smoking. Didn't have a date, didn't have many buddies to hang with, so I just did my own thing that night. After a few hours she came out and sat next to me.\n\n''Yo. Where's your date?''\n\n''Broke up.'' she said with a shrug, stoic as ever. She looked at me after that with a frown though. ''Didn't know you smoked.''\n\n''Yeah. I think I might be the only one on this school. Smoking just ain't as cool as it used to be.'' I said as I put out my cigarette and offered her one. She shook her head.\n\nThere was a long pause as we sat there and looked at the lights in the distance. I longed for this to be over with. I wanted it to be forever decided for myself, there and then. Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it.\n\n''Hey Olwen, wanna go on a date next Saturday?'' I asked.\n\nShe looked at me, a bit surprised. ''You still into that?''\n\n''Yeah. I can be pretty stubborn.'' I said after I sighed. My heart felt as if it was stabbed by a thousand ice shards that moment.\n\n''Well, anyway, sure. Pick me up at eight.'' she said, offering me a smile. I looked at her with so much surprise that she laughed. The lights in the distance didn't shine any brighter that night, but I think the stars definitely did." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: Write about an event that happened in your life but write it like it's fan fiction" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A/N HI GUYZ its my first fanfic be gentle!\n\nThe T rating is b/c I didn't want to trigger TytyJOHNLOCK47 my BFF!!! Luv ya BAE! Thanks to Chloe215 for being my Beta reader!\n\nCASTIELXME FOREVER!!!\n\nOh and I don't own any copywrights so don't sue me ^.^\n\nStory: \"Her Normal Days\"\n\nSummary: \"OMG I LOVE YOU CASTIELLL!!!\" \"No I'm in love with someone else\" WILL SHE EVR FIND LOVE\"\n\nChapter One: Revengance\n\nSkyler got out of bed and brushed her teeth before putting on her favorite black knee-high boots with matching white and black striped socks with rainbow laces that expressed her sexuality and gender fluidity. She checked her phone as she slid on a cute red and black skirt with partial fishnet leggings and saw three new texts!! One was from her bestie, Taylor, another from her mom, ugh, and one from...\n\nOMG she fell on the floor lol looks like I, the esteemed narrator, shall continue for her!\n\nIT WAS FROM HER CRUSH CASTIEL!!!\n\nCastiel, or Cas as he preferred, was a 6' 7\" tanned hottie in her Pre-Algrebra class. He was so shy with girls even though he was soooo hot, and he was really smart and sporty and PERFECT and he was the lead in all of the school plays, so he totally understood drama XD (get it?).\n\nWell anyway Skyler was so excited she nearly forgot to put on a bra, but she did anyway. It was a lacy C cup but she was kind of peeved that it wasn't her size. (She blushed just thinking about me writing that!)\n\nSo then she put on her favorite Muse T shirt. Then she thought a little harder about it and swapped it out for a black MCR shirt and she was ready for the best day ever!\n\nBut wait! She had makeup, to! She had lots of black eyeliner that made her look deep and sexy, and mascara and a purple eyeshadow. And she had painted her nails purple with some sparkles yesterday to match!!\n\nShe checked the time on her phone, it was 11:34. She was supposed to meet Taylor for lunch in half an hour.\n\nThat reminded her of the text! That's she hadn't read! So she opened Castiel's text first.\n\n\"Hey! What was the math HW? THX! ;)\"\n\nShe felt her heart fall. But the wonky face at the end... Was it a hint? It looked like he had sent it at 10:54. That meant he had been waiting a really long time for an answer!\n\nHer thumbs moved like his abs when he does push-ups and she sent him the problems, and a quick selfie (with no filters).\n\nShe waited patiently for a response but then saw the other notifications so she made sure nobody was dying. Her mom asked her if she would bring down her laundry (ugh) and Taylor asked what place she wanted to eat at. Skyler picked the local pizza shop, but with a glance down at her thick tummy decided a sandwich at Subway might be better.\n\nThen the re was another notification! He responded!!!! OMG! What did he say! She had to know!!!\n\nSTAY TUNED for MORE\n\nA/N hey lol HOPE you guys liked my story! Review and face or I won't give you Internet cookies!! :)\n\nPs ShadowCa$h PLZ don't leave any more mean reviews, that's just not nice :(\n\nOh yeah and YOU GUYS can decide where they go to lunch there's a poll on my profile you should check out!! Kthxbye" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1400-1500 words. Prompt: Vampirism is real but many physicians have debunked it as a curable disease. Having recently discovered your vampire illness, you travel to the biggest city in your state to seek medical assistance. But when you arrive, you're warned by a stranger claiming to be a resigned doctor not to do so." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When I became I vampire, I felt destroyed. The human part of me devoured by this parasite in my blood. I felt a hunger like I've never felt before. A deep, gnawing, hole that screamed to be filled. I became desperate. Not for a cure, but satiation. I roamed across the country like a rabid dog. Catching the occasional, unlucky, traveller or vagrant. Hiding from the sun in dark corners or abandoned houses. I can't count how many times I contemplated suicide. Whether it was cowardice or my accursed blood, I never followed through with it.\n\nPerhaps it was luck that I didn't. In Los Angeles I stepped into a dirty, run down bar. The place was called Sal's. A dive located on the outskirts of the city, just off the highway. The locale didn't seem too friendly, which I didn't mind. The bartender was an attractive looking woman, probably the only reason this place stayed in business. I ordered some whiskey from her, and she brought it over.\n\n\"There you are, hun'\"\n\nI took a sip and looked around. Everyone in the bar looked like they didn't have much going for them. Kind of an alcoholics anonymous meet, minus the abstinence. I figured that once the bar closed these guys would stumble out, and one might pass out in a gutter somewhere. Should be an easy meal.\n\n\"Hey, Jesse. You heard about all these missing person reports, huh?\"\n\n\"Yeah, kidnappings, murders, bad fucking luck. You really gotta watch over your shoulder nowadays\"\n\nShe shot a glance at me. I caught a hint of suspicion in her eyes. Nothing for her to assume besides a creepy stranger. Was fine by me, not like she actually knew.\n\n\"Hey, Marv. They say all these missing person reports are all caused by one thing\"\n\n\"What's that?\"\n\n\"Vampires\"\n\nMy ears perked up. It's not often that word comes up. Not to mention it's quite true. I'm personally aware of 3 vampires in my travels, and others who have developed a certain taste for specific humans. Children, young women, etc. It's not like I get nausous, but thinking about those creatures makes me sick.\n\n\"Don't you go blaming it vampires, Jesse. Everybody knows they aren't real. It's probably something else, like some internet cult, or a surplus of psychos. I dunno\"\n\n\"Whatever you say, Marv. Just don't let yourself get lost trying to get home\"\n\n\"I always make it home. Sometimes it just takes a little longer, is all\"\n\nI was starting to feel uneasy. Something about the bartender had me on edge. It was like she knew, but I had no way of knowing. I resigned my anxiety to the whiskey, and put those thoughts away. I couldn't afford to stray from my plan. My blood was already chewing through my head. Screaming and cursing like a toddler having a temper tantrum. I'd not fed for a few days now, any longer and the pain would be unbearable.\n\n2:45 rolled around and Jesse called last call. Time to go. I finished my last drink, paid my tab, and stepped out into the cool night's air. The rest of the bar's patrons slowly spilled out into the street. Some of them drunkenly fumbling for car keys, smoking cigarettes, aimlessly wandering to their destinations. I picked out one of the crowd, and began to stalk him. I think it was Marv.\n\nI followed him for a few minutes, taking care to stay in the shadows, and out of sight. Then, I saw my chance. He sat down on the ground in a dark, quiet, corner behind a motel. Not somewhere anyone would happen to wander by. He looked to have passed out, perfect. I could barely control myself, I creeped up close to him. Close enough I could feel his breath. I opened my mouth, my teeth catching a glint in the moonlight, then I heard a click from behind me.\n\n\"That's far enough, vampire. Make one move and I shoot. These bullets are silver, by the way. Don't think there'll be much left of you after I pull the trigger, and don't go thinking I might miss\"\n\nShit, it's the bartender.\n\n\"Jesse, right? Shouldn't you be closing up right about now?\"\n\n\"All part of the job. Let's just say I've got a good sense of smell\"\n\nBlood isn't the kind of scent you can just wash off, and vampires give it off like a rotting piece of meat in the sun. I was beat, this was the end of me, I told myself.\n\n\"Happy to hear it, Jesse. Do me a favour and pull the trigger, would ya? I'd do it myself if I had the balls. So you'd be saving me a whole lot of trouble\"\n\nMarv woke up to me staring him down, teeth wide open, eyes red like the devil's. Needless to say he took off.\n\n\"Sorry bud, but you're not getting off that easy. See, I actually used to be just like you\"\n\n\"Were you now? I take it that's how you were able to spot me?\"\n\nI stood up and looked at Jesse.\n\n\"Yeah, except I found a cure\"\n\nThat was the first time I ever heard the word 'cure' when the topic of vampirism was in conversation.\n\n\"Say again, please?\"\n\n\"The cure for vampirism. It's actually not some folk story. Physicians were able to look into the disease and theorize a cure. I'm living proof that it works\"\n\n\"How can I get it for myself?\"\n\n\"Go to the LA general hospital, they'll be able to help you there\"\n\n\"...Thanks\"\n\nI didn't need to hear that twice. I took off immediately and found my way to the hospital. It took me an hour or so to find it, but I was there before I knew it. I walked through the parking lot on my way to the entrance when I noticed a man smoking a cigarette sitting outside the entrance. He took a look at me and put his arm out to stop me before I entered.\n\n\"Vampire, right?\"\n\n\"Uh, yeah\"\n\n\"Sorry, but there's nothing they can do for you in there\"\n\n\"But I was told -\"\n\n\"That there's a cure, right? Like I said, there's nothing they can do for you in there\"\n\nThe stranger took a drag off his cigarette.\n\n\"I used to be a doctor here, and we used to have the cure. But we don't anymore, and I'm not a doctor anymore either\"\n\n\"I don't understand!\"\n\n\"Let me explain then. The cure is combination of specialized medication and therapy. The medication stops your blood from requiring blood to sustain itself, and the therapy gradually acclimates your body to sunlight. Our initial experiments showed real promise. Everything was going well, until...\"\n\n\"Until?\"\n\n\"Until we found out what the cure was made out of\"\n\n\"What was it?\"\n\n\"We never knew what it really was. It was only until just recently I found out. And turns out it's not much of a cure, more of a ritual. For the medication, it requires the soul of a young child. For the therapy, a virgin woman needs to be sacrificed. Both of those things don't seem to cure vampirism as much as it creates a more resilient vampire, less dependant on blood and immune from sunlight\"\n\n\"So for me to be cured, a child and a young woman needs to give up their life. And I won't even be cured completely, just cured of the bad part of being a vampire\"\n\n\"Correct. After the government found out the truth, they shut down the program. Us doctors who were working in the cure were stripped of our medical licenses. Can't say I blame them\"\n\n\"So, there is no cure\"\n\n\"It's not exactly public knowledge, wish I could help you out, but there's nothing I can do to\"\n\n\"No need, I know what I need to do\"\n\nThe night was coming to an end. I walked out of the hospital parking lot and stared towards the horizon. How many vampires had taken this so-called cure? Was Jesse aware of that to begin with? Should I tell her? How many vampires are going around capturing and killing children and women to gain this power? I pondered these questions for a while as I walked along the street. Eventually the sky turned a shade of dark blue as the sun slowly climbed up in the East.\n\n\"That's all there is to it, I guess\"\n\nI took a seat on a park bench, and waited. I wanted to see the sun once more." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: In this world magic exists in forms of music and song, wielded by powerful mages called bards. Often such skalds test their strength in melodious duels. You are one such bard, looking to rise to fame in an upcoming guitar showdown. Aiding you is the most deadly magic known to man...power metal!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Wandering, I seek perfection.\n\nI was born in a shack where the wind would chill your spine as your ears would bleed from the bands, the great armies of the world, conquering the people around me time and time again. Tenacious as my mother was, we escaped their melodies of conquest time and time again. As fate would cruelly have it, though, she would not be able to escape on the one evening she sang for peace, using her calming music to stop my incredible infant lungs from destroying everything we knew.\n\nAt least, that's what the Lieutenant Conductor would tell me. Everything I've known in my life comes from the band. Every sleepless night or exhausting day, every night where I was forced to spend hours screaming my lungs out in the name of training, every punishment, every conquest. It wasn't a bad life, but I decided that I needed to see more of this world I lived and loved, so I applied to the Soprano division of the military: the most elite unit.\n\nAnd so I was moved. I don't know how or why, but something tells me that it was something to do with my natural affinity with the destructive element of music. I really remember that one time where I accidentally blew up that street corner, though. Good times.\n\nWhen I first entered the Soprano base, I was met with a silent glare. Without a second's delay, I ran to my new barracks. That was a silence before their training Finale, the ultimate composition of war that man had ever seen, and if I had stayed their a moment longer I would have been annihilated, as the Finale is the accumulation of the finest bards the world has ever known.\n\nLater that night, I was awoken by a thunder by my instincts. Afraid that it wasn't the weather, but an enemy assault, I rushed outside into the pouring rain, only to find the grandest stage I had ever seen laid before my eyes. Suddenly, a hand grabs my shoulder.\n\n\"Hey there rookie, my name's Scout. Surprised by the noise?\"\n\nI nodded.\n\n\"Well, don't be. It isn't too uncommon for someone to accidentally snore a bang or two here.\"\n\nBoth of us begin to chuckle, until we hit a long pause.\n\n\"So, um.... what was I here for again,\" Scout mumbles to himself. \"Oh, yeah. I'm here to get you some more suited equipment for your new rank. Follow me to the instrument storage room and we can see what fits you the best.\"\n\nReluctantly, I followed him, a complete stranger.\n\n\"So, what do you want to try first?\" Scout inquires.\n\nIndecisively, I grab the first instrument I can reach. Completely incompatible.\n\nAnd so I grab another, and another, and another, all close, but not quite right.\n\n\"Maybe we should try... it,\" Scout mutters.\n\n\"I'll be right back with THE instrument.\"\n\nRushing back, with a guitar covered in flames and resin art, Scout defeatedly tells me \"I don't know if you're gonna be able to work with anything else, but this is the last instrument we have. Incredibly powerful, too. If you can handle this, you're probably going to be promoted.\"\n\nOut of options, I grab the instrument, and it glows an incredible aura of blue, gold, red, and black. I'm able to feel it's pure yet unrefined essence all throughout its structure, but this unrefined feeling changed as it merged with myself. I felt from this beautiful instrument of war two things: power, and metal. Seeing Scout in the corner of my eye, I feel an overwhelming urge. I strum its incredible strings and see nothing but a flash.\n\nAnd so, I am by myself, with my rank gone, the nation's military crippled, and the World War ahead. The battlefield will be my training, its conquest will be my art.\n\nI will need all the practice I can get if I'm to win.\n\nSo I wander on." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 700-800 words. Prompt: A mechanic goes searching for a long lost Christian relic. No, not the Holy Grail, but something infinitely more important to him: the oil that Saint Peter uses to keep the Pearly Gates from squeaking after all this time." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The city stood still. People and cars moved along the smoothly paved roads and sidewalks, but none traveled very far. Indeed, the occupants never advanced past the point of their own capabilities, helplessly reconciled to hustle without profit. The most enjoyment in life, then, could be gleaned from the transient reasoning for self-satisfaction. Greater than any measure of success -- and little success did they find -- was their fervent musings and inducements towards procurement. This pitiful absorption cast a dim dusk over the dismal buildings, only penetrated by sharpened sunbeams which served to illuminate nothing. In this gaze, every house looked exactly akin to its neighbor without dissimilarity. Men and women walked aimlessly in either direction in vain discernment of their residences, more often than not peering through windows or insensibly knocking on heavy doors to ascertain its location. Every shadow and street corner was equal in identity, to which road signs and colored bricks offered fruitless individuality.\n\nIn a house like any other, a mechanic called Daniel McHenry made it his sole and undiminished purpose to gain success through the repair of automobiles. With the world as his wide, supposed esplanade, he had the unique ability to create anything upon a whim. Some might label this self-imposed illusionment as the mark of a visionary. I might be clear as to mention that his foresight was quite fallacious, firstly defined by his choice of establishment. Daniel hardly received any work, his shop hiding inconspicuously among the undifferentiated buildings. Anyone looking for service might instead end up bringing their vehicle to Ms. Madison's \"House of the Occult\" without realization, a fact she always acclaimed to divine providence. At any rate, in the apparent greatness of his mind, Daniel adamantly decided to read every Sunday paper in search of greater opportunity than he could find in the great City of Nothing.\n\nPerhaps he did have some foresight after all as one afternoon he discovered an article detailing the recent restoration of a document appearing to disclose the location for a precious urn of oil. Usually, historical contrivances held no interest in the astute mind of Daniel McHenry, but offering humble glances to random lines within the article, his eye caught the printed word of \"St. Peter.\" Daniel gave great dignity to his Christian name. He was more than willing to jump into a lion's den of his own making for the sake of some reward. At this moment, he decided he would make the journey of a lifetime: to unearth and hold in his hand this sacred oil. And maybe, perhaps, the blessing of St. Peter would mercifully fall on his mechanic shop with its use.\n\n\"Something like this isn't meant to be stuck in a museum\" he murmured wistfully into the newspaper.\n\nNow, Daniel was currently invested in a relationship with a woman by the name of Janice Verdilly. She was a sensible lady, somehow restraining herself to a man with little sense, in which case, she might not have been very sensible at all. She absentmindedly twirled a cigarette between her fingers although showing no intention to light the simple roll of paper. By duty, and with great monotony, she asked Daniel what he had on his mind.\n\n\"I'm gonna get my hands on St. Peter's very own oil. Says here in the paper they might know its location. Would do wonders for the business,\" he replied curtly.\n\nJanice looked utterly perplexed. \"You mean you're going to ask the museum folk to just hand it over once they find it?\"\n\n\"No, I'm gonna take it before they even lay eyes on the thing,\" Daniel smiled smugly.\n\n\"Uh-huh, and how do you plan on doing that?\"\n\nJanice waited for a response, but when none came, she resigned herself to finally light the cigarette. The smoke curled softly in the parlor, obscuring the little sunlight that passed through the window blinds. Even as the sun disappeared down the horizon, sending a menacing glow upon the house, the smoke still hung without dissipation, tentatively hanging in the heavy air. It faded by the time morning approached, and with the sun's arrival, Daniel's departure...\n\nIt was only a couple of hours later that Janice was greeted by two policemen at her doorstep. They would have arrived sooner had they been able to find the correct house among the carbon copies. Behind them, visibly restrained in their car was the sight of the wonderful Daniel McHenry who had attempted to steal some ancient document from the museum's proprietor, all the while shouting incoherent phrases related to \"St. Peter\" and his \"miracle oil.\" Janice heard the story with a sigh, and with unsympathetic eyes to the crazed man, shut her door closed to the unfulfilling City of Nothing." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1200-1300 words. Prompt: A large brooding monster hunting knight stops to rest in a small town, the townsfolk too afraid to approach the knight, except for a young peasant girl who coaxes him into removing his helmet. Revealing he is disfigured from battle, but jolly and more than happy to share his stories." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "His aura was unmatched, even by the beasts that had fallen at his feet. His helmet didn't even seem to move, not even when food or drink was placed before him. He had arrived without any ceremony, merely drifting out of the forests bushy shrubbery like a demon of the night. Without even a word he placed a heap of gold on the taverns counter and found a seat, simply seeming to enjoy the dead silence that surrounded him. No one daring to inch closer to the man unless they had to.\n\nThat was atleast until the girl arrived, the small peasant girl kicking up a fuss as the bartender grabbed her by the scruff of the neck. \"Oi ye little runt of a lass, told ya... the foods for paying customers, now get out before I smack ya with me broom.\" He hissed.\n\n\"Gah! You toad faced creep! Drop me this instant or I'll throw a rock through your window.\" She whined, her threats getting a roar of howling laughter, the laughter only being silenced by the sound of rustling armor. The metal creaking as he stepped towards the pair, a ungodly deep breathing seeming to slip out of the cracks of his helmet.\n\n\"Sir... I...\" the bartender dropped the girl in a panic. \"Shes a no good thief, just someone parentless sap.. I assure you I would never hurt an honest girl sir knight.\" Although the knight hardly reacted to the words, almost as if he had not even been listening, instead he dropped a few more coins on the bar, pointing to the girl, then at the food. \"More food? For.... for... the runt?\" He gave a glare at the girl before meeting the knights metallic face. \"R-right away sir.\"\n\nWith that the knight turned back, only to be stopped by the tugging of a light hand. \"Hey Mister! You got a lot of nerve butting in. I was in control! I was going to toss rocks through his window!\" The girl said, her barefoot stomping against the wooden ground. The knight stopped, staring at her before their was an erupting laugh. \"HOU HOU HOU HOU HOU\" the knight howled, even his laugh sounded creepy and distorted, sending a chill down the spines of lesser men.\n\n\"Don't laugh at me you bucket of iron scraps! I am lady Elise, you may kiss my hand if you want. As a thank you for the food and what not.\" The knight continued, nearly doubling over \"HOU HOU HOU HOU HOU HOU\" that made her cheeks flush with anger. She was used to being mocked but this was beyond the usual mockery. \"STOP THAT, RIGHT NOW.\"\n\n\"HOU HOU HOU HOU!\" He smacked his knee before wheezing, giving the girl's head a pat, ruffling her hair. \"Strong... strong heart, need better head.\" He said, his words seeming well... hard to say, as if he hadn't opened his mouth in years. Still as he went back to his table, her light footsteps echoed behind him and when he sat, so did she across from him.\n\n\"Better head? Is that an insult? Just because you bought me food doesn't mean I'll stand for that. Let's see your head then!\" She leaned over, grabby hands trying to pull at the helmet. Of course that was utterly useless since well the knight not only doubled her height but also leant his body back. Still he did oblige, slowly pulling his helmet off to expose the mess of flesh beneath. His left eye was missing, the wound around his eye making it appear as though it had been pulled from its socket. His face was coated in scar markings, having more markings then plain, clear skin. His nose bent to the left, having been broken so many times that it decided it would just stay in that new positioning. Although he did have all his teeth oddly enough. So that was something.\n\n\"Your head ain't better.\" She muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. \"You are all weird... how did that even happen to you.\"\n\n\"Better head.. means being smarter. \"You have the courage to speak your mind.. but that will get you in trouble if you aren't smart.\" He uttered, finally taking a sip of his mead. He pushed the food towards the girl who looked at him, wordlessly asking permission to eat before scoffing it down.\n\n\"Swo... hwo dit ya git lik dat?\" She uttered, barely able to talk between bits of fat and steak. Having to take large gulps to consume the food quickly, seeming like she might choke herself if she wasn't careful.\n\n\"Years of training and plenty of milk.\" He said before covering his mouth. \"HOU HOU HOU.\" He could barely hide his enjoyment. It had been months since someone had wished to speak to him. \"But.. the eye was given to me by a friend, I had only started training and well... he thought he could take all the profit on the giant we killed, so in the night he tried to pierce my skull through my eye. He didn't push far enough though and only blinded me. That was the last I saw of him.. well half saw of him.\" He snickered. He fled as soon as I went to get up, I guess greed got to him. Its a shame.. I missed having someone to travel with. But oh well, I still have one eye left!\" He said with a smile, the peasant glancing up.\n\n\"Ya didn't kill him? I would have chased him and stabbed both his eyes and left him to wander around like a blind drunkard!\" She giggles, yet the knight didn't laugh at that, only shaking his head.\n\n\"If we act like that, we are no better then the monsters we hunt.. I wish him good health, he wasn't a bad man... just one that made poor decisions.\"\n\n\"But?...\" she was stunned into a rare silence for her. \"He... took your eye... shouldn't you be angry? Shouldn't the though of him make your blood boil?\" She pushed the food back, perhaps in a little bit of guilt.\n\n\"I was angry at the time, but.... he must have had his reasons, like how you were trying to pickpocket one of the men when you came in.\" He said casually, the words causing her to jump up, her finger touching her lips.\n\n\"Sssh... they already hate me! I don't need ya coming in and making em chase me outta town.\" When her message got across she sat down.\n\n\"HOU HOU HOU! I won't tell.. but as I said.. everyone has their reasons young one. So I try not to judge them so harshly, yet I must say.. that slight of hand was impressive.\"\n\n\"Yeah... well... you learn some stuff you know?\" She scratched her dirty tangles of blonde hair as she watched him stand up.\n\n\"I do...\" he tossed a few more coins down on the table for her before sighing. \"I'm sorry but I must retreat for the night. I will be into this town until Thursday, if you wish to talk again, come find me.\" With that he placed on his helmet and strode towards his room, leaving her to play with the coins he had left before her.\n\n\"Maybe I will...\"\n\n{If you enjoyed my story, Feel free to check out r/pmmeyabootysstories where ill be posting some more of my stuff for people to read}" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: A hard-boiled detective story in a world of fairies and magic." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "On that baking hot July morning, she had floated into my office. Quite literally.\n\nI barely had time to look up before that heavenly voice drifted over the buzz of the slowly spinning fan in the corner, pleading for my assistance. A golden aura emanated from her very being, bathing those radiant long legs in the diffused glow of an ethereal glory that couldn't be anything but supernatural. A cascading waterfall of flowing gown adorned her. If the angels hadn't all up and left a few years ago, I would have sworn she was one.\n\n'Please, Mr. Himes. We need your help.'\n\nI couldn't say no to a fairy. Not in this part of town. Not with her looking like that. Not with my currently dilapidated bank account.\n\nBefore I even began to beckon her over, she had glided across the linoleum and lowered herself into the seat opposite me, taking the time to cast her eyes over the cluttered shrapnel of my desk: a half full mug of fire whiskey, a nearly empty bottle, assorted, unsorted paperwork, the battered rotary phone and the well-used pistol, nestled in it's holster, resting on that mornings paper. I noticed those vividly azure eyes linger on the headline: Mayor Vows 'Crackdown' On Illegal Trolls.\n\n'Well, Mr. Himes...'\n\n'Call me Parker, Miss?' A half attempted smile didn't crack the serious visage painted on her face, all focus and concentration.\n\n'Miss. Violet.' My nod encouraged her onwards. 'Well, a few nights ago I got into a little bit of trouble. At first, I thought it was something we could handle. You know, the council. I told them. I told them everything. But. Well, they ignored my request. Our request.'\n\n'When you say our, who exactly do you mean Miss. Violet?' I enquired, lifting the glass into my hands as she strained her face into revealing more.\n\n'Myself and a couple of...friends. Fairies as well. Who prefer not to be named in this little matter. You see, a troll turned up at a party we were having. A little get-together, for close friends and acquaintances of our...particular world. At first, he wasn't any trouble. But then....'\n\nHesitance swarmed her entire body as she grappled with her own mind.\n\n'Then, he took our orbs. While we were occupied, he somehow slipped into our rooms and disappeared out of the window, we think.' The relief and fear in her face forged themselves like a palpable force.\n\n'By orb, you mean those things that link you, and your people, to the fairy realm?'\n\n'I'm sure you know of their importance to us. They were locked up, of course. He took the boxes. Heaven knows how he thinks of getting into them but...' She trailed off and those gorgeous eyes found themselves subsiding to the floor.\n\n'And I'm guessing you want me to find them. And retrieve them. From a troll. That's a hefty ask Miss. Violet. Hefty indeed.'\n\nShe nodded and, wordlessly, opened a small satchel I hadn't noticed before, secreted beneath the layers of cream silk that surrounded her. The luminescent buzz from the bag revealed the wealth of the contents before I even saw them. Each one must have been worth a few thousand, at least, in the right circles. Each a swirling mass of rainbow-flecked energy. Each as rare and deadly as the last.\n\n'All yours. If you take the case.' The satchel had been snapped shut and hidden away once more.\n\nOne deep sigh and one deep swig later, and within them a quick mental calculation of the debt that lay heavy on my head, I slowly nodded at Miss. Violet, whose face revealed a sudden flash of a grin before settling back into it's usual stunning, placid structure.\n\n'So, Miss. Violet, do you have any insight into the appearance or whereab....'\n\nMy questioning was sliced short by the sharp ringing of the phone on my desk. It hadn't rung in months but now it shook so violently with the force of the bell within, I almost forgot what it was for. Snatching the handset away to disguise my bewilderment, I spat out a half-baked 'Hello, Private Investig-' before a guttural tone on the other end snarled back at me.\n\n'Drop the case before you're dropped into the river Mr. Himes. Teleportation spells can go disastrously awry, or so the papers will report.'\n\nThe clink on the other end abruptly bookended their threat and hastily confirmed my next course of action. After picking up the pistol and clipping the holster to my belt, I looked to the bemused, beauteous face before me.\n\n'Apologies, Miss. Violet. Let's get started. Would you kindly escort me to your room please?'" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: Your roommate is a werewolf. They've been able to stay rational in their last few 'episodes,' and have the bloodlust under control at the very least, but the shedding is start to become an issue." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I glanced at my watch as I studied. 5 minutes until moonrise. Right on cue, the screams started in the other room. I really hoped my plan worked this time. The screams turned to howls, then subsided. I opened the Mary's closet door. \"Want to go for a walk?\" I asked, holding up a ball. Mary bounded after me as I trudged through the town towards the dog park. I got some weird looks, but it wasn't too bad.\n\nWhen Mary had first told me she was a werewolf, I'd been a bit apprehensive. I knew I was going to a rather progressive university, but you expect to be put in residence with someone from a different culture or background, not a werewolf. I'd always assumed those went into the accessible dorms. Mary had explained that lycanthropy was not a disability, just a difference. And she was right. She just a few nights every month as a wolf. It wasn't dramatic or terrifying like in the old stories. She just lay on her bed gnawing a bone and listening to music. She couldn't wear earphones, but her good hearing meant the volume was always barely audible.\n\nWerewolves were just now receiving widespread recognition and acceptance. Mary was happy to explain, but also very sensitive to any hint of discrimination. \"How hard is it to check a lunar chart?\" she ranted as yet another professor set an evening exam at the full moon. \"This is a case where accessibility is trivial!\" That's why it had been so stressful when I had first brought up the shedding. I had very curly hair. Mary had long straight hair. That alone was creating plenty of clumps and tangling with our clothes in the dryer. Add in wolf fur, though and it was insane. Large clumpy wisps all over the floor, hairballs all over my clothes. At last, I couldn't stand it anymore.\n\n\"Umm, Mary,\" I said tentatively, \"Do you figure we could do anything about the hair and fur situation? Sweeping isn't really doing it. Maybe we should get a vacuum cleaner?\"\n\nMary looked up from her assignment. \"Yeah, sure, whatever.\"\n\n\"I'm kinda broke,\" I continued, \"I was thinking we could go halves.\"\n\n\"I don't think I'll be using it and I'm not rich either.\"\n\n\"Well,\" I persisted, \"seeing as most of the hair and all of the fur is yours. I figured it made sense you participated in solving the problem.\"\n\n\"Well, I don't think it's a problem,\" said Mary rather sharply, \"We sweep regularly. There isn't much dust. We're probably one of the cleanest rooms on the floor.\"\n\n\"Sure,\" I said cautiously, \"but the fur and hair combo tends to get kicked up and gets into my stuff.\"\n\n\"Would we even be having this conversation if I was just a girl with really thick hair?\" asked Mary.\n\nI was pretty sure the answer was yes, but I could see where Mary was coming from. My visceral reaction was definitely different because it was fur. We had a version of this conversation a few more times, but to no avail. Mary clearly thought I was just a lycanphobe and I was getting more and more stressed. \"Shape-constants have to do their part in creating a welcoming society and that includes rethinking lycanphobe and other shapist attitudes and standards,\" she had insisted a week ago. Well, tonight I was going to see what putting in the work could do.\n\nI had done some research. Werewolves usually liked to play much like dogs when in wolf form. They just liked their autonomy and intellect respected. No collar, leash, or master-pet dynamic. Well except for those weird sexual fetishes some of them had. I had quickly closed that tab. Anyway, a trip to the dog park would probably be good. Werewolves in wolf form were allowed in public and at dog parks if accompanied by a human who could explain the situation and call 911 if anything bad happened. I completed a brief online training and got my lycanthrope accompanier card. The school required all the usual rabies shots and dewormings for its werewolf students, so we were fine on that front. And so I had bought a ball and some dog biscuits and shifted my sleep schedule later.\n\nOnce in the dog park, we played fetch for a while, then wrestled and other games. Soon, we were actually joined by an entire werewolf family. The father explained to me that he and his wife took turns taking the shape-locking pills to be able to legally take their family to the park. Unfortunately, the pills had awful side effects. We sat on the bench as he scratched himself and cradled his aching head. Near dawn, we all left. Mary trotted beside me as we headed towards campus. She slipped into her closet and emerged a moment later in human form.\n\n\"That was incredible!\" she enthused, \"Thank you so much for taking me! Growing up, we went out as wolves maybe once a year.\"\n\n\"No problem,\" I said, looking at the blessedly fur-free floor.\n\nWe went out the next night as well and met another werewolf family, this time accompanied by a neighbour. I watched the frolicking cubs and smiled. Their neighbour leaned over.\n\n\"You're doing a good thing for your roommate there. Natural play in both forms is really important for a werewolf's physical and mental health,\" he said.\n\n\"I'm only doing it because of the shedding,\" I admitted, \"I just wanted a vacuum cleaner, actually.\"\n\n\"Werewolves can be sensitive about shedding comments. Several werewolf asylums gave them chemotherapy to make them bald and reduce their cleaning bill.\"\n\nI looked at him in shock.\n\n\"Werewolves have good reason to doubt that governments and the medical world have their best interests at heart,\" he continued, \"It's not just in the past, either. Look at the accompanying laws. They're written due to fear, but as a result, 50% of adult werewolves never got to play outdoors as cubs. 95% of werewolves go out in wolf form once a year or less. And that causes real harm. This park should be full.\"\n\nI looked at Mary with new understanding. We were not enemies. Neither of us had been truly in the wrong in our arguments. But history had driven a wedge between us.\n\n\"I wish I could do more,\" I muttered.\n\nThe man slipped me a business card. \"We're trying to start an organization for allies. Maybe you could come to a few meetings. And we'll gladly spring for a vacuum cleaner for you girls. My late wife left fur everywhere.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: While putting your favorite condiment on a sandwich, you accidentally make a magical occult symbol and summon a demon." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As I go to take a bite of my sandwich, a portal opens up in the kitchen. A grotesque looking figure with gnarled horns and a searing red hue emerges from the portal. He makes an unholy cackle and begins to speak in a booming, sinister voice.\n\n\"After a thousand year slumber I have finally awoken! Thank you, mortal, for releasing me from my ethereal prison. I am Beulor, the Tormentor, at your service.\"\n\nDamn it. I just wanted eat this sandwich. I've got to be way more careful with my Miracle Whip patterns.\n\n\"Beulor, was it? If I could just finish my lunch real quick, that'd be great.\"\n\nBeulor teleported to me and brought his face inches to mine. He was seething, fire consuming his eyes and veins protruding from his neck. \"What? Finish your sandwich? I am Beulor! I have brought nations to their knees. I count the most brutal and sadistic murderers and torturers among my followers. I will not wait for you to finish a fucking sandwich!\"\n\nWith a mouthful of sandwich I answered, \"Wow buddy, no need to get so upset. The way I see it, you've been locked up for millennia. You can wait another minute for me to finish a sandwich.\"\n\nBeulor retreated, but still looked impatient as I scarfed down the rest of my sandwich.\n\n\"I have never met a mortal as...casual as you.\"\n\n\"Oh, this happens to me way too often. You should've been here when I accidentally summoned Apophis, Egyptian God of Chaos. Man THAT was a wild week.\"\n\n\"Wait, you didn't mean to summon me?\"\n\n\"Oh no, I was just putting Miracle Whip on my sandwich.\"\n\n\"Miracle Whip?\"\n\n\"Yeah I picked it up at a weird little shop on the corner.\"\n\nI handed Beulor the bottle for his inspection.\n\n\"You fool. This is no ordinary Miracle Whip. See this disclaimer, 'Miracles not guaranteed. May summon ancient spirits.'\"\n\nI squinted at the label. \"Huh. That sure does explain a lot. Guess that goes to show that you should always read the label.\"\n\nI pondered the situation and looked at Beulor who was clearly annoyed at his situation.\n\n\"Hmm. Do you have any special skills?\"\n\n\"Well, I am adept at torture. I can flay a man alive in seconds. I can impale a man and keep him alive for weeks.\"\n\n\"Huh. Ever tried cooking? Sounds like you'd be a prep master. I can never cut onions with crying.\"\n\n\"Cooking? I am a demon! I will not stoop to satisfying your mortal whims!\"\n\n\"Well I don't know where else to use your, erm, talents. I don't really need anyone tortured or maimed. I could use a chef though. I've already got Adad, Lord of Weather working on the garden. Hephaestus does most of the handiwork. Heimdallr is running security. Dionysus is always throwing me parties. And the basement is sort of occupied by a Balrog. Those things are a bitch to get rid of.\"\n\n\"I will not serve your whims.\"\n\n\"The alternative is going back in that portal for another thousand year slumber.\"\n\nBeulor sighed, \"What do you want for dinner?\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 800-900 words. Prompt: Your grandfather is turning 100 and stayed up until midnight to see off the century on his old flip phone that he refuses to replace. At the strike of midnight his phone rings. He recognizes the number. It‘s the call he’s been waiting for - someone he still loves who passed away long ago." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Grandpa sat in his faded blue rocking chair, waiting for midnight of his 100th birthday. I sat across from him on an uncomfortable wooden stool. Grandpa told me to keep him awake until midnight just in case he couldn't do it himself, and if I sat in the empty green rocking chair next to him, I might fall asleep as well.\n\nThe green chair was where the love of his life had once sat with him. The two of them had married when both were only just barely adults, but they had known each other long before even that. She was a natural leader, and had joined the military. The two of them had traveled all over the country for the service, with only their two chairs marking whatever house they happened to call home at the time. Unfortunately though, as soon as she was fit for duty again after her first child, she went back to the service. A few months later, she died in a heroic mission.\n\nGrandpa twisted in his chair, taking a long look at the wall of medals and uniforms that lined the room. In the low light, they still glinted as if they were brand new. At the very top of the awards, the gold star he had received on her death sat with pride.\n\nHaving placed himself in too comfortable a position, Grandpa started nodding off a bit. I pushed myself forward, ready to tap him on the shoulder when the phone in his hand buzzed. Grandpa's eyes flew open immediately, as he looked at the phone. The time was still 11:51. The buzzing stopped as soon as it started, and Grandpa lay awake again on the chair, a hint of a smile across his weathered face.\n\nThat phone was strange. Grandpa had owned it for as long as I can remember, and always carried it with him. It never received calls from any real numbers anymore, but sometimes it would still buzz or ring of its own accord. Grandpa would open the phone, listen to it, and then put it away. He claimed that it was his wife, giving him encouragement and advice. No one had heard the person on the other end of the line except himself, and no one even knew if he was telling the truth or not about her calls. However, they certainly seemed to have a real effect.\n\nAfter her death, Grandpa had almost immediately started being a community servant. He joined the military himself, and traveled about, amassing medals and awards wherever he went for his success. He almost seemed like the perfect soldier, and every time he won another honor, he would claim that his wife had told him to do it. Even when he retired, he still acted as a leader for the community, gathering the respect of everyone he knew. All the while, he would take calls from his wife, or so he said.\n\nThe time moved quickly. at 11:59, Grandpa grabbed the phone, his hands trembling. The phone clock switched to 12:00, and for a moment nothing happened. Then, the phone rang with a shrill squeak. Grandpa flipped open the device, and tried to press the receive button. He missed a few times, but eventually he succeeded and the ringing stopped. Grandpa was about to move the phone to his head when the device made a sound. A young woman's voice came through the phone, which he had accidentally put in speaker mode. Grandpa's eyes widened for moment, but in the end he didn't try to turn off the speaker phone.\n\nHe lay back in his chair, and the woman's voice came through loud and clear.\n\n\"How's my sweetheart?\"\n\n\"Just fine, my dear.\"\n\n\"Happy 100th Birthday! Congratulations!\"\n\n\"Thank you, my dear.\"\n\nShe paused for a moment as I watched, before her clear voice rang out in song. The birthday song was beautiful, and when she stopped Grandpa's smile had spread to a grin that no one else could have caused. He paused for a moment, then looked looked straight at me. He started talking, to me or to the phone, I may never know.\n\n\"I'm thinking of giving myself a gift for my birthday.\"\n\nHe paused for a moment, taking a breath before continuing.\n\n\"I want to see you, my dear.\"\n\nI gasped quietly, and the phone went silent for moment before answering.\n\n\"Today's your day sweetheart, do whatever it is you want.\"\n\n\"Thank you, my dear.\"\n\nHe closed the phone with a snap, and I felt tears running down my face. He kept looking at me, and I looked back at him. So he was telling the truth the whole time, huh? I reached out, and cupped his face in my hands. His eyes closed slowly, and he said something.\n\n\"You're eyes are just like your grandmother's.\"\n\nAnd with that, his breathing stopped in my hands. I picked up the phone from his hand, and walked it over to the green chair. I placed it there, where she rightfully should've been." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: God makes a bet that Satan cannot become the most powerful, human on earth without manipulating people. Satan plans on becoming a powerful CEO, there's one problem, he can't seem to make it out of middle management." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Annual reviews. The merriest time of year, analysts sweating, consultants pacing, managers breaking through the ceiling, and senior manager vying for partnerships. Then there was B.L. Zebub, Benjamin Lloyd Bezub. You would better know him as Satan, Lucifer, the great accuser, and a litany of other names. But, at this consulting firm he was just Benjamin Lloyd. He had not anticipated it would take so long to rise through the ladders. Big B.L. as his Senior Managers would call him had been hitting the grindstone for 8 years now and only had 12 more years to become the most powerful CEO on earth. He had bet God, or as he called him Jod, just to see the twitch of the big man's eye as he said it, he could become the most powerful human on earth in only 20 years.\n\nGod and B.L. had a history of long bets. The first was over whether B.L. could best the other angels. If he lost he had to go watch over hell. Well you all know how that score went. They once roshambo'ed, no not the rock paper scissors variety, the hard ball-kicking kind, with the winner deciding Adam and Eve's future. B.L. put that one in the bag. He was actually on a pretty good streak. Of course the most famous of God and B.L.'s bets was over Jesus Christ. Did you all really think God's plan was to put his own son on a pair of wooden posts? No, the guy is just a gambling junkie.\n\nAnyway, history aside, it brought them to this current bet. God was sore about Jesus's early departure from the worldly realm and bet Satan he could not become as influential as Jesus without manipulating people. Satan countered that Jesus certainly manipulated people, water into wine, walking on water, the blind seeing, raising from the dead, and ghosting around with his old pals. God conceded and the bet was struck to become the most power human on earth at the time without any manipulation in a term of 20 years. The wager? They would get to off load their most annoying resident. B.L. needed this. He didn't mind Atilla, he was really just a family man, Sadam, or Stalin. It was fucking Adolf, he had to get him out of there.\n\nIt's ratings seasons, time for his senior managers and partners to determine if he is cut out for upper management. \"I could not be happier with B.L.'s performance this year!\" his supervisor John touted. It was true B.L. worked hard. He had the wisdom of all of eternity. It also did not hurt that Bernie Madoff had joined him a year earlier and a long lineage of Goldman-Sachses. \"John, we know B.L. is a hard worker, he was a great analyst, a star consultant and has really been an effective manager\" Snyder, the group's partner countered. \"I'd hate to lose him to upper management so soon\" Snyder concluded. John considered and replied \"That's true, he does make my life a lot easier, I mean he gets shit done quick and it's always done correctly. Unlike Thomas hah\". Thomas. Thomas was the bane of B.L.'s existence. Thomas had graduated from an Ivy League, family connections of course, and had eyes that were glazed over by a life of privilege. He made it to manager by slowly flying under the radar and perfecting the art of appearing busy. Snyder thought on this for a moment. \"Yes, Thomas, he well he is not a performer, but he will sure as shit make us look better.\" he told John. John knew this was what it became at this level, a mediocracy, the real talent left to go save the world or some bull shit. All that was left were people strongly adept at eating shit, but pretending it's cake. John finally replied \"That's true and I agree, but how do we sell it to B.L., I mean we want to keep him around\" Snyder had been through this circus before and had the answer immediately \"We tell him we are restructuring, we want him in on the ground floor of a new opportunity, and that only he can see this project through to completion. People like B.L. they're martyrs for this kind of thing just have to feed on their pride, they're too smart for their own good.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 400-500 words. Prompt: Ever since travelling 1,000 years into the future, you have been getting along well with the people who live there. That is until you say \"Merry Christmas!\" The room falls silent, and the looks on their faces resemble... fear?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Awkwardly, I scan the room. You could hear a pin drop, which is quite astounding considering there’s at least fifty people in this dining hall. Til now, my presence felt normal, as if no one knew I was born a millenium prior.\n\nAfter a moment, I see a few people whispering near the door. The doors suddenly burst open with two armed officers. I survey my surroundings and—\n\n“You’ve gone and done it now, Lisa,” I hear in my earpiece.\n\nI pull my hair over my mouth and whisper forcefully, “Where the hell have you been, Josie? I was beginning to think this earpiece was defective. I need out of here NOW!”\n\nSilence.\n\nMoments pass and suddenly I realize that everyone that was sitting near me has scattered away. They look at me as if they’ve seen a ghost. The officers point in my direction and slowly approach.\n\nTwo officers approach. One shakily speaks, “Ma’am, we want no trouble. We’d like you to come with us.”\n\nI realize that these people are more scared of me than I am of them. Is it really because I said “Merry Christmas!” on December 25th?\n\nEveryone is backing away with most people exiting the room, except for the officers who slowly approach me as if I’m an escaped velociraptor in Jurassic Park.\n\nI quietly say, “Josie, are you there? Now would be a good time for some advice.”\n\n“Sing. Now. Any Christmas song.”\n\nFlabbergasted, I exclaim, “EXCUSE ME! You expect me to sing a Christmas song?”\n\n“Do it. Though, you could’ve been more observant and noticed that nobody decorated for Christmas. It’s been banned since the Movokian Accords of 2832.”\n\n“Oh, so this is MY fault? So typical. Get me the hell out of here now!”\n\nIn my earpiece, I hear the sweet, rich voice of Mariah Carey, “I don’t want a lot for Christmas…”\n\nFine, here goes nothing. In my pitchy voice, I sing-along, “…there is just one thing I need, I don’t care about the presents under the Christmas tree.”\n\n“Lisa, is it working?”\n\n“They’re backing away. Can you get me out of here or not?”\n\nI keep jostling back and forth and singing when I’m not talking to Josie, “… Just want you for my own … Make my wish come true … I need out of here NOW! … All I want for Christmas is youuuu.”\n\nInstantly, I vanish and re-appear back home. It’s a quiet, steely room with Josie and me.\n\n“What the hell was that, Josie? You transport me somewhere on Christmas Day and don’t tell me that I’m not allowed to say ‘Merry Christmas!’”\n\n“My bad, sis. Ever since Emperor Claus slaughtered millions of elves, they’ve banned anything that has to do with Christmas.”\n\n“Elves? Did you transport me to another dimension?”\n\n“The future holds some things that you wouldn’t believe. We’re learning. Where are we off to next?”\n\n“I’m hungry. I heard the sushi in 2093 is amazing.”\n\n“Let’s go!”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: One day, tons of giant magic circles open around the globe and millions of dragons began to materialize. Suddenly all yell at unison \"HUMANS, WE HAVE RETURNED\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Dragons?! I have no idea if I should be happy or terrified. It seemed like there was a dragon for every human on Earth. One was flaying towards me. It was purple and looked friendly, I guess. I mean the most evil looking part about it was the fact that it was purple and A DRAGON. Well, mainly it being a purple dragon. Unlike most girls I loved dragons. \"Hello there child! My name is Sage! I have been sent to train you.\" Wait what? Was this going to be like in Fairy Tail? Was I a Dragon Slayer? \"Train me?\" I was confused. \"Yes! You are very special dear. You have magic running through your veins and I will help you control it.\" IT IS LIKE FAIRY TAIL! \"Oh! I forgot to ask your name. Would you mind telling me?\" Right, my name. \"My name is Mika!\" She smiled. \"First you must learn to use your wings.\" Wings? Maybe this isn't as much like the show I know and love. \"How do I do that?\" \"It's easy! Just imagine yourself having wings. After that you can learn to fly!\" Okay seems easy enough. With my eyes closed, I imagined purple and black wings on my back. \"That's it! Open your eyes!\" I opened them and looked behind me. It worked! There were shining purple dragon wings on my back! \"How do I fly?\" Sage walked beside me and turned human? \"Just try to move your wings first. I'll help.\" Sage touched one of my wings and moved it then did the same with the other wing. \"Now try to do it yourself.\" I tried to remember how she moved them. This would be harder than I thought. I could just barely get them to move.\n\nIf I can't even move my wings enough to fly how am I going to handle magic?\n\nA couple of hours later I was able to move my wings and get off the ground. \"Great! Now for some direction.\" Sage moved my wings around showing me how to navigate. I flew off the ground a little higher and tried it. It wasn't too hard. Sage seemed happy so I guess I was doing a good job. \"Now, let's try to go higher.\" She turned back into a dragon. \"Get on my back. Ill drop you from the air and you can fly from there. I'll catch you if you get too close to the ground.\" I climbed on top of her and she fly into the sky. Once Sage stopped going up I stood. \"I'm going to drop you okay?\" I nodded. Oh boy. \"Three, two, one!\" I was falling. I used my wings and... I was flying! I finally got up to where Sage was. Probably would've been dead if my wings didn't slow my fall though. \"Great job! Follow me.\" I still had one question. \"Do you know who else has this magic?\" \"Well, yes. I assume you are wondering if one of your friends has Dragon magic?\" Sweet! She knows! \"Yeah! I was wondering if you knew if a girl named Stacy had Dragon magic?\" Sage turned to face me. \"Stacy? Okay do you know how dragons can be based on different elements?\" I nodded. Purple was poison right? \"Well, you have Poison Dragon magic. Stacy... has Life Dragon magic...\" We were opposites. Does that mean we can't hang out anymore? Maybe dragons being real isn't as great as I thought. \"Can we still hang out?\" Sage looked sad. \"Yes, but... It is very dangerous. You could kill each other.\" No... I can't hang out with Stacy? This definitely won't be as fun as I thought." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: It has been a millennia. Humanity has stood as shield to the Concord through plague, famine, war. Through rite of loyalty, they have been offered their pick of garden worlds. All the Edens they could ever pick from, and it falls to a humble private, still clutching their hazard mask to answer." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When they sent their representative, we expected a hero. Someone who stood head and shoulders above the rest, covered in ribbons and medals showing all the battles they had triumphed in.\n\nWhat walked out on the stage, still muddy and bloody from the battlefield, his biofilter mask in hand, stood far less than two meters tall, was slight of build, and a deep brown color.\n\nWhen he spoke, we had to hush our comrades to hear his words.\n\n\"I am a Private in our military. The only rank lower is recruit, one who has yet to complete training.\"\n\nA quick murmur of surprise, were we being insulted?\n\n\"I am no hero. No great warrior. I am nothing special among my fellows. I have no special skills or abilities.\"\n\nSurely not! He, out of all the might and majesty of the Human military was selected to carry their message to us.\n\n\"I was born to a large family on our farm. A farm that has been in our family for more than a thousand years.\"\n\nAh! A Scion of a great land owner who may one day inherit the land! This is more like it!\n\n\"A farm that occupies less than 500 acres, about two square kilometers. I will never inherit that farm, but every time I go into battle, I am defending that farm. Our way of life.\"\n\nWe are struck silent by his words. A nobody. Word spreads, he was pulled from the front line of his third battle to come here and speak for Humanity.\n\n\"Yet I, a common soldier of the lowest rank, have been chosen to answer your request that we select the worlds we wish from among the Concord, in honor and recognition of our unfailing service to the people of the Concord.\"\n\nHis tone makes it clear that he is as surprised by this turn of events as we are. Unbelieving that he stands before the Concord, addressing the leaders of this body. His next words are hard as iron. Challenging. Maybe even sneering? We are so caught up by this youth that we do not bother to protest what we hear of his demeanor.\n\n\"We do not want your garden worlds, your Edens. Soft worlds make for easy living, we would grow weak on such worlds.\"\n\nHis scorn is thick and strong. His disdain for our generous offer is clear. As voices rise to challenge him for his rudeness his voice overpowers all interruptions.\n\n\"My family's farm is a place of hard work that must be done perfectly year after year to support the members of the family that live there, provide food for others, and produce what is needed for our military to carry out our duty.\"\n\nThe pride which he takes in that claim is clear. This lowly soldier is insulted by our offer, and we are abashed. His next words are so quiet that we must all remain silent to hear what he says next.\n\n\"We would be lost in Eden.\"\n\nAnd we can hear it in his voice, he truly would be lost in a place where there was no struggle. His next words are strong, and spoken from.the heart.\n\n\"Give us your marginal worlds, the worlds that others shrink from, calling them too difficult.\n\n\"Give us the worlds that no one else has managed to farm successfully.\n\n\"Allow us to perpetuate our struggle to survive so that we are never found wanting upon the battlefield of the Concord's survival.\n\n\"Give us your Hell Worlds, so that we may test ourselves against the unfeeling universe before we stand between the people of the Concord and the desolation of war.\"\n\nQuietly, as he turns to leave...\n\n\"Keep your peaceful planets, we have no use for them.\"\n\n((finis))" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You're the test subject for a new truth serum being made. The expected results are you'll say what you're really thinking, but what it really does is make you speak only facts. You begin stating facts that can change all of humanity." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I winced as the needle went in, then an unnatural calm washed over me as the strange yellow chemical went in. Apparently, I was this test subject for some truth serum, better than prison anyway, but to be honest I didn’t really know what I signed up for. The doctor nodded before a man wearing a suit went into the cell. The strangest thing was there was no fear, no doubt, no emotion that I felt, just a sense of truth and lie. I noticed things I never noticed before, like how the doctor clearly felt conflicted about the experiment, or how the serum’s disgusting smell was masked by an odour cancelling agent in the room. The man began talking,\n\n“Hello subject D-99870213, or do you prefer Steve?”, the man asked coldly,\n\n“My designation matters not, as you are here to interview me to check if the serum works. You face doubts on its accuracy but believe that this will be an easy assignment which is why you volunteered. No need to argue Michael, I speak only the truth” I said robotically, to the shock of everyone there most of all me, after all I didn’t even know the man’s name yet somehow I knew he was named Michael. It doesn’t matter, I told myself, probably a side effect of that weird piss-yellow juice in my brain. The man continued speaking after a lengthy pause,\n\n“A…Alright… tell me a lie then” , he said, I noticed he did not deny my previous statement curiously,\n\n“Cannot, incompatible with truth. Clarification, it is within my capabilities normally but chemical designation P-780964 forces my vocal cords, lips and teeth to only produce sound vibrations that can be interpreted as the whole truth.” I stated against my will,\n\n“Good, next question, did you on December thirteenth commit assault and double homicide?” The man, no, Michael asked,\n\n“No, I was framed by my son in law Angelo Martinez, if you looked closer into my history you will find on the exact date of the murders almost exactly a hundred miles away. I was however burying a safe full of money I got from tax evasion and other illegitimate sources near my house on the bank of Charlotte’s creek.” I said aloud to my horror. The man simply nodded to one of the guards who then wrote something down,\n\n“Next I’ll be asking you something you cannot possibly know, what is the cure for cancer?” Michael asked, from his body language he was clearly interested in my answer I noticed. This time I tried to keep my mouth closed but to no avail,\n\n“Pentatrimol biphosphate, undergoing testing in this facility known as substance-83 eliminates 8760 different mutations that lead to cancer in human cells when injected into a tumour site. It loses effectiveness quickly but on this planet it is the closest chemical substance to a full cure for cancer.” I said again with my dead voice. I wanted to panic again but the unnatural calm kept preventing the emotions from souring past a small itching in the back of my mind,\n\n“Professor, note this down! There is absolutely no way he would have knowledge of the chemical, let alone it’s unique properties” Michael excitedly told the doctor,\n\n“ Alright, this question isn’t on the list, but is there an afterlife?” he asked me,\n\n“Yes.” I answered simply. Strange, normally the answers were longer, maybe the serum was wearing off? Regardless Michael kept asking,\n\n“Is there a God?” He asked,\n\nI felt like I had to answer even if the serum was losing its grip on me,\n\n“Yes, he sleeps in the centre of all reality. You know him by many names, Yahweh, Jehovah, Allah, Azathoth, Death, The Truth and Eternity. His blood is in the serum and now in my veins and very soul. Unfortunately mortal bodies are unsuited for The Truth, and thus mutations shall arise until a suitable permanent vessel is created for me” I answered, without fully comprehending what I said.\n\nAll of a sudden the calm was gone, and in its place a horrifying burning sensation. I screamed internally louder than I ever had before, but all that came out were the majestic and horrible truths of the universe, in full detail and length. Incomprehensible secrets that made all that heard it bleed from every available orifice. When it was over my body was a strange mix of material and immaterial, geometric in structure yet strangely amorphous. I became the harbinger of truth, an angel." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Everyone on Earth lost their ability to sneeze during an event known as the Eternal Nostrilfreeze. Five years later, you wake up and discover you can sneeze again. Strangely, every available wall, floor and surface has been painted with the same message: \"Don't Tell Them You Can Sneeze." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Patricia stared at her ceiling. There, in ominous thick green slime, was the same message that was on her wall, her nightstand, and her phone. \"Don't Tell Them You Can Sneeze.\" She was paralyzed. In the other room, her boyfriend was cooking something.\n\nPatricia hadn't known Jack for very long, just a few short months. But dating was hard in your 60's, and they had hit it off very quickly. She knew he was a good man, but good men could play jokes they didn't know were cruel. She wiped her nose, pulled on a large dress, and stepped into her kitchen in her pajamas.\n\nJack looked up in surprise, his short grey beard perfectly combed, but containing flecks of something shiny from the bacon he was cooking. \"Good morning! I was hoping to have this all done to bring into the room before you woke up. How did you sleep? It sounded like you coughed.\"\n\nPatricia looked over the food he had made. Bacon, frying now, biscuits, sunny side up eggs, and a white sauce. All of it was covered in the message. \"I dreamt about flying a jet again.\" She gestured to the food, \"what's all this?\" She hoped he would explain the words.\n\n\"It's breakfast! Hold on, I just need to finish the gravy.\" He excitedly grabbed a pepper mill. He twisted the top with more enthusiasm than she had seen him do anything. He missed the pot, and it landed on a plate. \"Ah damn, oh well.\" He picked up the plate, and attempted to blow the pepper into the gravy. Instead, he coughed, and the pepper briefly filled the air.\n\nPatricia inhaled in shock, and fell into a fit of sneezes. When she recovered, Jack was staring at her. He looked relived.\n\n\"Oh thank god, I thought I was the only one!\" Jack wrapped his arms around Patricia and squeezed as hard as he could.\n\n\"Jack. What's happening?\" Patricias voice shook as she spoke.\n\n\"It happened to me about four months ago, before we met. I sneezed. It scared me half to death. There was writing everywhere in every shade of green and yellow. I didn't know what to do.\" He held her at arms length, and looked deeply into her eyes. \"But I know one thing.\"\n\nJack held up a single peppercorn between his middle finger and thumb. \"This has something to do with it. The pepper company is hiding something from us. Have you noticed just how much of this stuff is in everything? They tell us to put it on all our food. Who puts pepper on gelatin?\" Jacks eyes had taken on a slightly insane look.\n\n\"Are you ok?\" Patricia asked, even knowing whatever was wrong with him was wrong with her. His glasses had the words over his eyes.\n\n\"Last night, when you were asleep,\" Jack looked away, ashamed. \"I used a small vacuum to clear out your nose. I got every last bit of pepper. And you can see it now too, can't you?\" He made eye contact again, dead serious.\n\n\"I- uh- yes? The ones telling us not to talk about it?\" She looked around. Even the bacon itself had the words.\n\n\"Good. I don't know who sent the message, but it's for us. We have to do something.\" Jack let her go, walking off to make them each a plate, untainted by pepper.\n\n\"Something? What something?\" Patricias voice got higher with each word.\n\nJack set the plates down at the table with finality.\n\n\"We're going to break into the pepper company's building. And find out what they're up to.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: As the hostile fleet dropped out of warp and into Sol, they receive a transmission from Earth. \"Are you sure about that?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Humanity had been at peace for nearly a century. And then those damn gaevze had shown up. K'itthra, Ascendant, greys, and sezels had come in relative peace, not wanting to go to war any more than humanity, but no, we just had to meet the one species that thought war was recreational. The first message we received from them was a declaration of war. And the second message. And the third, fourth, and fifth. Their need for constant conflict meant their species never unified, and so we went to war not with a species, but with a few dozen nations. Technically, at least. There was still time for them to back out. Neither side had taken action until now.\n\nGeneral Song Chae-Yeong watched her monitors as data started flooding in. The enemy fleet had dropped their bubbles near Jupiter's orbit and were relying on subluminal drives for in-system travel. Their solution to the Alcubierre drive's stopping problem had been to shape their bubbles to continuously vent trapped particles outwards, so at least she didn't have to worry about the enemy stopping and annihilating Mars with energy buildup. At lightspeed, it would take them two hours in real time to reach the red planet and start killing its three billion inhabitants. If she ordered her forces to intercept, time dilation meant they'd have twenty-four minutes in transit to refine their strategies. She was eager to start, but protocols dictated that she had to confirm their intent before anything else. Fortunately, both species used wormhole relays for superluminal communication, so sending an instant message was easy enough. Text-only, she decided.\n\n\"Are you sure about that? It's not too late to back out now. Two hours to reconsider.\"\n\nAn alert flashed on her screen five minutes later - roughly the amount of time it would have taken for them to translate her message, send their own after only a few seconds, and have her own comms unit translate it back. She knew what the response would be before she read it.\n\n\"Of course. Die well.\"\n\nSong nodded, now wanting to get this over with as soon as possible. By UPH rules, she had to wait until they fired on a human target to retaliate. \"Wings 5, 207, 590, and 634, intercept the enemy fleet at Mars. Flight path and times are being sent.\" She keyed in a couple commands to send the proper navigation packages before giving her own fleet the same order.\n\nTwenty-four minutes later, the human fleet floated in the black above Mars. The enemy fleet wasn't far away - out of visible range, but well within sensor range. For a few minutes, nothing happened. And then, suddenly, the hexgrid around Mars crackled.\n\n\"Enemy fire confirmed. Using kinetic weaponry.\" General Song let a smirk cross her face at that. They had no idea what was coming. \"All wormhole units, fire at will.\"\n\nThe lights of enemy ships on her monitor changed one by one, turning red or blinking out entirely as wormholes a meter in diameter tore through gaevze ships, leaving kilometers-long cylinders of vacuum in their wake. General Song stood up - she wouldn't be needed for this, and she had something more important to do anyways. She made her way to her quarters and opened a small hand terminal. It verified her biometrics and let her type in a code, a coordinate, and a time. She confirmed the request, and smiled.\n\nFour world wars throughout history had taught humanity a lot. The first and second had been brutal wars of attrition, leaving millions dead on all sides. It was the second, however, that had provided the guideline for the third and fourth: when in war, end it as soon as possible. When the Second Korean War exploded into World War Three, orbital kinetic weaponry had put an end to it by devastating China. In the nineties, when Mars had rebelled, their development of wormhole cannons ensured the war lasted only a matter of days before they won. The United Planets of Humanity might not have had a war in almost a century, but that didn't mean they had forgotten that lesson.\n\nSeven hours after the battle above Mars, gaevze learned just what humanity's modern implementation of that lesson was. An unmanned Alcubierre-driven ship entered one of their colony systems at a hundred times the speed of light, on a direct collision course with the system's inhabited world, and just before impact, it stopped. Millions of high-energy particles from light-years of travel shot forwards at the speed of light, their inertia preserved by the bubble of warped spacetime that had just vanished. The planet's atmosphere was stripped away and irradiated; it would be decades before it was anything close to habitable again. Its mission done, the ship let itself fall into the world's gravity well. One week later, all gaevze nations sued for peace.\n\nHumanity might not like to start wars, but it is extremely skilled at ending them." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: The first Humans are sent on a mission to mars. The ship comes back empty. After a review of footage captured by the ship, the entire program is shut down and any future missions are immediately canceled." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This, however, only raised suspicion as to what could possibly exist on the planet's surface. Thus, private projects began to spring up; one after another. It seemed the more the government withheld information, the more determined people became to seek out the truth.\n\nFinally, 10 years later, the first civilian expedition was ready. Aboard the vessel were a plethora of experienced pilots and technicians, botanists, chemists, and several doctors.\n\nThe launch went smoothly as the shuttle departed from the base located slightly off of Hawaii's coast. Upon passing the moon, the crew went into stasis to help conserve resources on their long journey. Over 16 months past and, once again, the world returned to watch as the crew awoke and those designated as Alpha team began their decent through Mar's atmosphere.\n\nDespite some small mishaps, Alpha team managed to make it to the surface safely. On televisions all across the world, people excitedly awaited some long wanted information as to what happened. The rest of the crew remained on the orbital vessel while monitoring and relaying Alpha teams communications as there was about a 2min signal delay back to Earth.\n\nAt 0500 January 23rd 2032, Alpha team came across the remains of what appear to be space suits from the team sent to Mars 10 years ago. Upon closer inspection, it appeared as though the suits were torn apart from the inside. Samples were properly collected and the area surveyed.\n\nAt 0611 hours a dust storm began encroaching upon Alpha team's location and they were forced to return back to their lander.\n\nBy 0700 hours, the lander was engulfed in a mighty dust storm preventing the lander from returning until the storm had passed.\n\nThis wasn't unusual. They had all been through simulations of Mars' atmospheric storms. Luckily, they had the budget to incorporate shielding from such storms into Alpha team's suits and lander.\n\nBy 1135 hours, the storm had moved on and the lander was clear to return back to the orbiting vessel. However, all attempts to communicate with the lander appeared one sided as there was no outgoing video or audio sources coming from the vessel. After roughly 50 minutes, it was decided that there had been an equipment malfunction and a Bravo team would be required to return Alpha team to the orbiting vessel.\n\nThen at 1240 hours, the lander began take off procedures. Surprised, the crew believed that the lander must have been capable of receiving information but not transmitting information. The crew breathed a sigh of relief as the lander began its ascent through Mars' atmosphere.\n\nBy 1300 the lander had docked with the orbiting vessel. All the crew began to gather round to congratulate Alpha team on a daring return.\n\nThat's when someone pointed out the puncture on the landers starboard side.\n\nThe doors slid open, and to everyone's demise, only one figure could be seen. In what appeared to be an endless black void contained within the lander, Jane Yan, Alpha teams technician, holding on for dear life on the lander's interior panel.\n\nMouths agape, the entire crew could feel themselves slowly being pulled into the lander. Tools and debris began flying past their heads into the dark void, dissipating as they entered.\n\n\"EJECT ME! EJECT THE LANDER!\" Jane screamed. However, the crew were already mesmerized by the void seen before them.\n\nSuddenly, one of the crew was struck in the head by a hurtling wrench sending him headfirst into the sea of people before him. One after one, the crew toppled forward falling into the dark abyss which had stolen their fascination only moments before.\n\nAs more and more of the crew fell, the void began to grow, slowly leaking out of the lander.\n\nDesperately, Jane clawed her way out of the lander's doorway allowing her suit to defend her against the numerous bodies and objects colliding against her when all of a sudden she felt a cold chill grab her leg and, with immense strength, pull her into the abyss.\n\nAs she fell, she felt her body begin to fall apart. Absorbed into the vast abyss. And a voice rang through her mind.\n\n\"Now you are me, and I am you.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Humanity has finally advanced technology to interstellar travel, with the hope that we will find a more advanced race to guide us all. What we find is that we're the first species to advance in the known universe, and other species we've encountered are now looking to us to lead the way." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Chris Log 1: About fucking time I get out of that shit hole. 10 fucking years in cryo, 10 fucking years. 10. No kids, it ain't like the movies, you're aware of every single flying fucking second that goes by. They installed some simulation software, but i'll tell ya, playing life ain't fun while you're hyped up about being the first one on the other side of the universe. I mean, the whole reason I took this suicide mission was to escape my life back home. Then they just throw you back in for 10 years. They said something about how the simulation ensures I won't go crazy before we get to the mission. Well, I've got Karen to drive me nuts. God, she is such a stickler. I don't need her to babysit me. She's one of those corporate losers who are just so god damn fake. They told us we need to write in these logs like some star trek dick head, because they will keep them has historical documents. Ha, just thinking about some kids in high school reading this makes my day a whole lot better. Anyways, I got wrap this up, Karen's done her maintenance check and shes probably going to make me do flight simulations.\n\nKaren. Log 1: 20:00, 12/09/2315: We have just passed planet Z 314. It is the blue gas giant on the outskirts of the solar system. The \"Millennium Falcon\" as Chris has protested to call it, has sustained some damages, but is still in expected condition to take us to our destination. We have traveled through 7 wormholes, and have arrived in proximity of Valhalla. Our ETA is 1 day. By this time tomorrow we will have made history. I had ordered Chris to do flight simulations, we are in uncharted territory and we will not know when or if his piloting skills are needed, but we must be on the safe side. For the sake of the mission.\n\nCaptain signing off.\n\nChris Log 2: What a fucking bitch, I knew it, just what I needed, more simulations. She said we will be there tomorrow, which no time at all, considering what I've been through. I haven't been this depressed since Donald Trump got elected, man he really did a number. Funny guy though. Anyways nearly 200 years later, I can forgive the man, kinda. At least back then I didn't have a single mechanical piston in my body. I don't even know if I can be considered human anymore, well I guess how I feel about Karen is pretty human of me. Whatever, doesn't really matter. I'm just rambling, I haven't been this excited in a long time.\n\nKaren. Log 2: 20:00, 13/10/2315: We ran into some complications before arriving to Valhalla. There was an asteroid belt, and it was paramount that Chris was in a state to take manual control. I guess that is why we kept him alive this long. We are currently orbiting the Valhalla. They said it may look like Earth considering the bio scanners had found almost an exact match to Earths composition. Aside from the polar caps, it almost looks exactly like Earth. After the delay with the asteroid belt, it looks like we will be making history tomorrow.\n\nCaptain signing off.\n\nChris Log 3: There were people, fucking people, like human people. I don't understand. None of this makes sense. We landed near the equator on one of the larger continents. We took some samples, but a tribe of I dunno? People? They came after us. It didn't make any sense.\n\nEnding it here because I need to study, and I accidentally deleted it before. I'm not a great writer but maybe someone will like the idea." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: You are a basic video game enemy, guarding your boss' lair with your colleagues. Suddenly, the famous supersoldier hero, who gives your evil plans a hard time, shows up in your area. You quickly shoot him in the head. He falls." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Reports have been coming in all morning. The boss is growing restless, you can see it in his face. He’s on his way here, and coming quickly, in a tank. Luckily we set up some small roadblocks which wills top the tank in it’s tracks, but they say he’s just as deadly on foot.\n\n“He’s an expert marksman!” The stories say. “It’s inhuman!”\n\nMany have died without ever knowing he was in the area. Our surveillance systems have caught brutal behaviour from the man. He’s been filmed sticking a knife through someone’s throat, and dragging the body into a closet and teabagging it. I not going to say the company I work for is completely sin free, but I try not to ask questions. It pays well and I need to move out of Mother’s some day!\n\nThe boss hand picked several of us to be his personal guards. We are the best shooters in the whole organization. I know that’s not saying much. I’ve been told many of them can’t shoot their way out of a wet paper bag. In any case, we’re the best of the best, or so they say.\n\n“E.T.A. five minutes, people!” Yelled out commander.\n\nHe’s even more nervous than the boss. We have commanders at each sector of our overly elaborate fortress, which we divided into sections to keep track of any invaders.\n\n“Look alive you chuckle-fucks, guess who’s out-” the commander never got to finish his sentence, because a 50 caliber sniper round tore through his skull.\n\nWe all raised our guns and pointed them down the hallway. We couldn’t see past the corner where the commander laid, sans head. We could only hear the man’s heavy footsteps, and he was laughing at our commander’s passing.\n\n“Fucking scrub!” The man yelled.\n\n“Aim for the head!” Someone next to me yelled, as if we needed a reminder.\n\n“Ooo, salty,” said the man.\n\nWe saw his head peek out from around the corner of the hallway. I held my fire, waiting for a better chance to get him, but all the people around me let out a flurry of bullets. A sticky grenade popped out from down the hallway and exploded, sending three people flying away from its epicenter.\n\n“Oh baby a triple!” Yelled the man. “Ma, get the camera!”\n\nA long sniper barrel poked out from the corner. I knew what was coming, it’s everything they talked about. A guy named Frank was ducking behind a crate on the other side of the doorway from me. He would try to sneak a peek down the hallway, but would be met by a bullet almost scraping his face off. I knew this was my chance.\n\nI timed it perfectly. I readied my weapon, and as soon as Frank poked his head around, I aimed about head height and as soon as the man appeared, aiming at Frank, I put a laser round through his scope and into his eye. The man fell without a word, still gripping his sniper rifle.\n\nWe paused.\n\n“Did… did I get him?” I asked aloud.\n\nFrank would have answered, except that there was only air in the section that used to house his brain. I kept my weapon raised, and crept down the hallway. The man still wasn’t moving. A pool of blood was forming around his head. I stood over him. Not a sound. No chest movement. I traded my rifle for my pistol and kicked his helmet off. Checked his pulse. Nothing.\n\n“He’s dead!” I yelled.\n\n“You’re kidding…” The boss said.\n\nEveryone left in the bunker walked over and tuck turns poking and kicking the body of the man to see if he would move. Nothing. I had done it. I killed the man in one shot to the head. Hundreds had died trying to take him down, and I had done it in one shot.\n\nWe celebrated hard that night. The boss paid for a huge dinner for the 20 or 30 people left alive after the man’s onslaught. He raised a glass to us.\n\n“Men, after careful consideration, I have realized a few things. Number one, after my recent brush with our attacker, I realized we are all but an inch from death at any single time. I have decided to change my ways, and instead of promoting crime and violence, I believe a peaceful approach is more effective and better for the World at large. Number two: You are all loyal to the death. I’m raising your salary and in order to pay you, I am lowering my own salary to match yours. If you can’t live in a respectable manner, I don’t deserve to either!”\n\nWe all cheered and drank ourselves halfway to death.\n\nI fell asleep that night, and slept even harder than I partied. I awoke the next day, head still pounding from the party.\n\n“Battlestations men!” A voice yelled over the intercom. I hurried and got dressed and grabbed my gun.\n\nReports have been coming in all morning. The boss is growing restless, you can see it in his face." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: A depressed former hitman from the criminal underworld runs a dive bar frequented by similarly depressing middle-aged men. He's starting to suspect his clientele are all retired hit men with troubled pasts to hide, and that they are beginning to realize this too." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Throughout his career, Shaw had mastered several skills. Not least of which was the ability to spot patterns. From the paths targets took through the city, to the movements of security teams, or even the number of rounds Black Diamond guards typically fired before reloading their standard-issue pistols.\n\nEven now as he was behind the bar nestled between spirits and whisky he couldn’t stop his eyes from focusing on the patterns he saw in the world around him.\n\nNot that this was a bad thing. In fact, this skill had served him well even as a bartender. Within three weeks he knew which drinks were the most popular, which meals were the most appetizing, and which patrons racked up the highest bills.\n\nHe could even accurately predict how much money he'd make in a given week or month based solely on the small clues he’d pick up on throughout the day.\n\nBut the pattern that interested him, or perhaps trouble him, the most was how similar his clientele seemed to be.\n\nMostly middle-aged men like himself with ragged features, rough hands, and eyes that darted quickly before freezing into thousand-yard stares that could last painfully long.\n\nEveryone paid in cash and almost nobody ever sat at the small round tables that filled the middle of the room. Instead, the vast majority of his patrons opted to sit on the fringes. Favoring chairs that faced the door or had access to a quick exit.\n\nWith this in mind, Shaw had a few floor-to-ceiling mirrors installed on the far wall. That way the door could easily seen no matter where you sat.\n\nIn the agency, they called buildings like this Goldilocks zones. The perfect place to lay low without raising eyebrows or leaving yourself in a vulnerable position.\n\nAt the moment the bar was filled with an unusually diverse crowd. Four of his regulars sat in alternating chairs at the bar while two others sat at the red leather corner booth.\n\nThe rest of the seats were sparsely filled by drifters and first-timers. Some of which appeared to be tourists, no doubt trying to get out of the rain for a moment.\n\n“Business is booming!” John Carter, one of the men sitting at the bar said.\n\n“I liked it better when nobody knew about this place...” a man sitting beside him commented. Although this man was also a regular Shaw didn't know his name.\n\nHe came in a few times a week and as he put it, everybody just calls him Dutch. Whatever that means.\n\n“That’s just how it works,” John said, “if it’s empty there's always a reason. Either the drinks are bad or the bartend can't stop talking.”\n\nDutch leaned over the bar and cupped his face in his hands—” If this keeps up you’ll have to start selling those pink girly drinks... what it called? Booba tea?”\n\nJohn laughed while Shaw crack a slight smile “I’d love to see it! I can just imagine Shaw standing in the background of one of those Tik-Tac videos while a girl dances!”\n\nShaw was surprised to see the two laughing and talking together as much as they were. For the most part, everybody minds their business. Only ever asking for a refill or to have the channel changed.\n\nBut their conversation was quickly cut short when a young woman walked through the door. She had short straight brown hair that, despite the rain, was still perfectly arranged. Her medium-length grey tweed suit jacket draped over a neat white shirt which was tucked into a long skirt that matched the jacket.\n\nShe stood with impeccable posture yet carried herself with uncertainty as she stepped toward the bar. Shaw had seen dozens of young women just like her. Though admittedly he never expected one to come into his bar. Before she even reach the count He knew what she was.\n\nAn FBI agent." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: A futuristic soldier and bounty hunter is sent back in time to save the dragons, and by extension magic itself, from extinction. Upon exiting the time rift the hunter finds two young dragons almost right away, and can see a party of dragon hunters coming in from afar." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The rift in space-time sealed behind me, leaving no traces of its existence behind. For a moment I bowed my head, in respect to the time I had left. This was a one way trip. I had made my peace before leaving, but even so, it was hard.\n\nI sighed, before straightening up. I had a misson. A quick diagnostic scan showed my systems to be functional. Cybernetic limbs and organs merged seamlessly together, and operated as expected. The pulse cannon built into my arm was charged ready. I was as prepared as I could be.\n\n\"Alright. Now to find me some dragons.\"\n\nAs I spoke, my eyes danced across the landscape. I had vague ideas, from ancient texts about dragons. But most were damaged, or filled with hearsay. I needed more concrete information.\n\nTo my surprise, I found a pair almost instantly. They were smaller than expected, maybe the size of a large bear. One had glossy brown scales, the other a deep blue. They seemed enamoured with each other, at least from the way they stared.\n\nBut my gaze wandered past, focusing on the hill across from them. A group of people were creeping closer. I zoomed in, seeing their armour and weapons. They had focused expressions, the look of a hunter. It was clear to me that these were hunters. I had to save the dragons anyway. This was a good a place as any to start.\n\nI dropped the small pack or provisions, racing towards the hunters. I could move faster than a standard human, due to my engineering. That, coupled with my unconscious way of hugging low to the ground, kept either party from noticing me.\n\nBut fast as I was, the hunters were too close already. They wove a net of sparkling light, presumably to keep their prey on the ground. I heard the roars and cries of battle, even as I sprinted up. I spotted a trio of archers lining up, raising their arrows towards the fray.\n\nMy arm extended out straight, as I aimed the cannon. Between one step and the next, it lauched a pulse of energy. A flash of purple light was app they saw, before they were thrown away. It was as though they had been hit by an invisible truck.\n\nWith a final leap I landed in the melee. My charges were bloodied, though still fighting. I extended a pair of thin blades, razor sharp and strong. With precise movements I laid into them, cutting through armour like it were made of paper. I had trained against people equalling my reflexes and skill. By comparison, these were amateurs.\n\nIt didn't take long for the tide to shift. The hunters broke, fleeing before me. I saw the net shatter overhead, as I assumed the casters fled with them. Behind me, the dragons tensed. I slowly turned, spreading my arms in a placating gesture.\n\n\"It's ok. I mean you no harm.\"\n\nThe brown one opened its mouth, exposing its bloodstained teeth.\n\n\"Na proth banclik?\"\n\nI blinked, stumped. I had a translator built in to my brain. But this was gobbledegook. A thought occurred, and I groaned at the implications. We hadn't thought about language when making out preparations. And now I was stuck there, having slaughtered ones that looked like me, unable to talk to them." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: The war between Angels and Demons has begun, and earth is their battlefield. With so many innocents caught in the crossfire, humanity is desperate. They turn to those who were here before both the angels and the demons, and ask for help. Humanity has recruited The Great Old Ones." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Violence is more than a cycle, it's an addiction. A habit that forms one day, justified that you are 'right' you strike out at the world, only to find that someone else now feels justified to strike back. There will be no war to end all wars, just as there will be no cigarette to end all cigarettes. You can't feed an addiction and expect to satiated. You also can't reason with an addict. They will find a reason for the next one. What other excuse did humanity need besides the heavens had descended on to the earth for their \"final\" battle.\n\nThe fallen morning star Lucifer had erupted from the earth to charge into the skies only to be met with a torrent of light. From the broken earth and the cloudy skies, rushing to meet each other was a horde of soldiers. Whether they were clad in light and fire, or darkness and mud their purpose was the same; to fight and punish the enemy for the transgressions that their side perceived. Only there was another side.\n\nNot innocent in the practice and understanding of war the humans found themselves nevertheless to be at a large disadvantage. They knew war of human to human but the celestial and infernal arts were largely unknown. The tactics of humans were subtle curiosities in the eyes of the higher beings; quaint reminders of other life not unlike ants during many of the historical skirmishes of humans. A detailed and thorough accounts of the war in the heavens could be forgiven for leaving out the details of human involvement.\n\nIn the past humans had struck out at their enemy and been noticed. Had been even feared. The creatures of Earth had learned to leave humans largely alone, but the devils and angels left them alone for other reasons. In the great scheme of the universe and its fate the human was insignificant. A fact that humans had learned, as the ancient creatures of their myths and religions ignored the attacks and laments of the surviving people of Earth. When their gods had shown indifference to the humans they looked for something that would react. One that might be listening, that was not benevolently avoiding the interaction but instead waiting.\n\nIn the great wisdom amassed by humans in the short time the have read and written their secrets, they delved for a solutions. To end the war of greater beings. To end the fighting on the Earth that had once been theirs. Foolish hands led the way to find leverage against the myths.\n\nThe solution came when called. It was not the abrupt expulsion rom hell nor the quick deployment from heaven that humans had seen. It started slowly. An angel behaved erratically or a demon stared off during battle. It was spread trough the ranks of above and below. A madness. A madness of knowing. Madness had been written about as the expression of the limits of mankind, to describe an unknowable horror. But humans did not find themselves alone in this fragility, when the old ones came. Tentacles stretched from else where. Space sounded with the madness of that heralded the arrival. Abominations walked the Earth.\n\nThe landscape of war had altered once more. Humans could interact with the great old ones just barely. And they in turn had an effect on the guardians of the afterlife. A fact the people of Earth would regret. It's hard to fathom what the plan was. Defeat heaven or replace hell with eldritch horror. Surely the loss of heaven and hell would only leave another uncaring horde of madness inducing monsters. Have all lose? and be left with quiet remains of Earth was to optimistic. The humans were addicts though and you can't reason with addiction. There was no peace for the humans till the end. It is unknown when the last died in hiding from the greater terrors that it had learned to know of." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Three demons, Darkness, Silence, and Loneliness, are sent by the Devil to retrieve one man who has been evading death all his life." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The man was 120 years old. He was asleep when the demons showed up.\n\nLoneliness, a massive blue monster stared at his face. “He looks good for his age. How has he made it to this long anyway?”\n\n“We could wake him up and ask him,” Darkness said. His pale eyes glowed in the dark of the room. “What do you think, Silence?”\n\nSilence, small and grey, nodded his head.\n\nLoneliness reached out a claw and tapped the man.\n\nHis eyes fluttered open, and he sat up in bed. He fumbled around for the light on his bedside table. With a click, the room was illuminated. He slipped on his glasses and gazed at the demons before him.\n\nHe blinked, and rubbed his eyes, and blinked again. They certainly seemed to be real demons. “Hello,” he said, jovially. “I'm Archibald. What can I do for you?”\n\nDarkness looked at him quizzically. “You're not afraid of us?”\n\nArchibald smiled. “Should I be?”\n\n“We're demons! We have been sent by death to finally claim you,” Loneliness explained. “But, most people succumb to his clutches without us physically needing to get them. Tell him, Silence.”\n\nSilence nodded.\n\n“Ah,” Archibald clapped his hands together. “So, the little one is Silence, but who are you?”\n\n“I am Loneliness, and the third is Darkness.”\n\nArchibald stuck out his hand, and each demon shook it. “Well, it certainly is a pleasure to meet you all. Would you like tea? Or whatever it is demons drink? A brimstone concoction? That may be a challenge...”\n\n“No, sir, we're fine,” said Darkness. “What we want to know is, how have you lived so long?”\n\nArchibald let out a hearty laugh. “You know, I often get asked that,” he chuckled. “You said you never physically claim a soul, right? And you work for Death, so I take it you are the embodiments of loneliness, darkness, and silence, correct?”\n\nSilence nodded, surprised that this human could catch on so quickly.\n\n“Well,” the old man began, “the secret is, I've never succumbed to those things, because I've never had them.”\n\nLoneliness looked surprised. “We have gazed upon your past. You sleep alone now, as you always have. And yet you've not been lonely?”\n\n“Oh, no. I have many neighbours, and friends, and the ducks down by the pond. I have all the love I could ever want!”\n\nDarkness was confused. “But has your life never been cloaked in darkness?”\n\n“No, again, my friend! There have been times of uncertainty in my day, where I was unsure of what to do. I was afraid, but no matter how dark the world seemed, I held my head high and was my own torch.”\n\nSilence walked up to Archibald's side and poked him, with a quizzical look on his face.\n\nArchibald chuckled. “And how could I forget you, Silence? After a long day of work, I relish in the silence. It comforts me. I turn the silence into poems and art and stories! But... I suppose 120 years is quite a long time for a human to be alive. Your master wants me because my time is up?”\n\nDarkness lowered his head. No one had referred to him as a friend before. “Yes... Archibald. The Master likes to do some... spring cleaning now and then. Out with the old, in with the new is an expression I believe you should be familiar with.”\n\n“Well, if my time is up...” Archibald murmured. He climbed out of bed and slipped on his fuzzy slippers. “I suppose it is time to make way for the new generation.”\n\nHe spread his arms out on either side of him. He closed his eyes, and smiled a peaceful, yet sad, smile. “Well then, take me away, boys! This shall truly be a grand adventure.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You've been a beloved science teacher. Now, just as you draw your last breath on your deathbed, you hear a ethereal call, pleading you to help \"them\". Next thing you know, you're a tiny imp in a forest, and someone is approaching you." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The sun pierces the forest canopy, casting a spotted blanket of warm light across the dense undergrowth. Bird song echos through the humid air, a melodious backstop to the calls of crickets and frogs and the occasional monkey.\n\nI flap rapidly, trying to pick up the pieces of my shattered mind. \"I should be dead,\" I whisper softly.\n\nWith a start I notice I'm hovering just off the ground, sporting little translucent wings. Horrified, I glance over the rest of my body. I'm red and shriveled and glitter is strewn in random strands across my body.\n\nThis is a far cry from life in Biology class. The frogs croak louder, seeming to accuse me for facilitating the dissections of thousands of their brethren. But somehow I flap steadily, still hovering, my decorative glitter flashing in the single rays of sun that reach this far below. All around me foliage cranes and twists and reaches for the precious beams of light. The forest seems alive in a way I've never noticed before.\n\nA figure approaches, its humanoid features standing in stark juxtaposition to the naturalness of the forest.\n\n\"What the fuck...,\" I trail off.\n\n\"Hail, Pixie-Imp,\" the man says, raising one hand in supplication.\n\n\"Hi,\" I say, my voice high and sharp.\n\nThe man bows deeply and lays down an object wrapped in oiled cloth. He unrolls the cloth deliberately, revealing a scepter and an ornate saddle, which is embossed with the talons of a bird of prey.\n\n\"Other-worlder, I present you with the tools of binding,\" the man stands and steps back, his voice dripping with reverence. \"You are our last hope.\"\n\n\"Last hope?\" I say, staring down at the saddle and remembering the voice that called to me just before I took my last breath. \"I have no idea what you're talking about,\" I say, letting out an exasperated sigh. \"I'm supposed to be dead.\"\n\nThe man says nothing, instead pointing to a gap in the canopy where a massive bird sits stoically on a branch, looking down at us. I stare upwards, then down at the talons on the saddle, then back up at the bird, then finally at the man again, who is now walking backwards into the trees, his eyes fixed determinedly on the ground.\n\nI flap for a while, still trying to process what's happening. \"Its the final chemical pulse of death,\" I say, not believing it. \"My body is releasing prodigal quantities of DMT.\"\n\nA long undulating call reverberates off the mighty tree trunks that surround me. The bird lands with a flourish, its massive wings extended. It is a magnificent creature, sporting a bright red crest and piercing diamond eyes. It's feathers are patterned with the same glitter as whats on my body, the little particles twinkling in the sun. The bird lowers its neck and taps the saddle with its beak, then looks at me pointedly.\n\nI look down and my tiny red hands, which are clenched into tiny fists involuntarily. I ponder for a moment, then bend down and pick up the saddle. \"Well, at this point I might as well just roll with it.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: The King learns the prophecy that his son will kill him and become King. He decides to raise his son well and teach him to be a good ruler. But the fateful day still comes." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "William Jameson, fourth of his line, and ruler of the land Cyric had no idea when fear and greed had morphed into love and compassion.\n\nThe former two had driven his desire to raise his son properly; a fear of death and greed for the power and wealth that came with his crown. So he had, giving the boy the best education, training, and royal life his substantial power could. It had gone against his nature, and had taken everything in him at times not to lash out, but he'd done it with gritted teeth and a held tongue. Then, he stopped gritting so hard, and found his tongue less sharp than before; his task of raising the boy stopped seeming so daunting. He found himself looking forward to the times he could spend away from court and with him, had long conversations with him and his carious tutors regarding his progress. He dared say he'd come to love the boy and be loved in return. The prophecy haunted the back of his mind, but he paid it little mind and managed to convince himself he'd bested it.\n\nIt was the last thought that drew so bitter a laugh from him as he lay on the blood soaked battlefield now.\n\nCyric had her fair share of enemies, as all countries did, but the Karns had been the biggest threat since time long forgotten. Open war had been whispered for as long as William had been alive, dating back at least three generations. Like the prophecy itself, it had loomed like a shadow in the corner, actively ignored so that things could get done. None had expected the sudden attack, but the king had ridden out with his forces to meet the invaders, clashing in a town near the boarder.\n\nThat same town now smoked and smoldered, the cries of the dying echoing feebly through the ruins. William hissed in pain as he held his wound, the poison the Karn had soaked his blade in burning his insides like molten metal. The invaders had been ruthless, cutting down his forces without mercy and slaughtering the town. They had been pushed back, but not routed, they would still make it to the capital.\n\n\"Hold on, Father; the physician will be here soon.\" William looked into the desperate eyes of Owen, his son. There was blood on his face, but not a mark on the young man.\n\n\"Glad to see those lessons paid off,\" William quipped, then clenched as pain shot through him once more.\n\n\"Hurry!\" Owen called. \"My father needs-\"\n\n\"Owen,\" William said. \"The physician can't help me. Karnic poison is lethal, and I'm old.\"\n\n\"But-\"\n\n\"None of that,\" William said, his hand moving to his belt. With weak and weary fingers, the wounded king drew out a dagger. \"I spent so long trying to prevent this...\" William's mind drifted back to happy memories. \"Maybe it was for the best; you're better prepared for this than I could have ever hoped.\"\n\nThe confusion in Owen's face gave way to horror as the realization hit him. \"Father, I... I can't...\"\n\n\"Owen,\" William said. \"Son; I do not want to die for hours, do not make me.\" He passed the dagger into his son's shaking hands. \"You were prophesied to kill me when you were born. The time has come for it to be fulfilled.\"\n\nTears flowed from Owen's eyes, the dagger clenched in his hand. He wanted to scream, cry, argue... but his mouth wouldn't work. He knew his father was right; there was nothing that could save him, and putting him out of his misery was correct. \"...I'm sorry.\" He said at last. \"I love you, Father.\"\n\n\"I love you too, Owen.\"\n\nOwen's hand shook as he lifted the dagger, and stabbed down. His father went limp in his arms and slid to the ground, the dagger piercing his heart. Owen was silent, staring at his father's corpse, tears welling in his eyes. He barely registered the sounds of the captain's armor as he walked over.\n\n\"Sire,\" the captain said. \"Your orders?\"\n\nOwen said nothing at first, looking down still. The boy who'd just lost his father closed his eyes and took a breath. The man who would be king opened them and stood.\n\n\"Gather all can salvage in an hour's time,\" Owen said. \"Load up every horse with all they can carry and the same with all the men who can walk. If there are any townsfolk strong enough to hold a blade, find them one; after that, we head west.\"\n\n\"The capital is to the north,\" the captain said.\n\n\"The Karns will get there long before we do, and our forces are in no shape to turn the tide in that battle.\" Owen turned his gaze skyward; it was well passed midday, but sunset wasn't close yet. \"We're less than two days' travel from the western boarder, and Jesik is an ally; the Karns can have the capital for now.\" Fire fueled by pain and grief burned in Owen's eyes. \"We will return, the crown will be recaptured, and my father will be avenged.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: God and the Devil both decide to take on human form and live among humanity for a few years. They both end up as students at the same high school." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lockner High School is praised as the best high school in the world. For a high school, it never had any problems, not even issues that were covered up. With a completely clean slate, the new school year just began.\n\nThe first bell of the day rang. Students entered the doors and made their way to their lockers. Every year the staff had a fun tradition of giving red devil horns to the person who got locker 666 and a golden colored halo to the person who got locker 777. The tradition started as a joke from the first year students, but was carried on through the generations and is now seen almost as a praise.\n\nSomething was off this year, though. The student who got locker 666 refused to wear the horns, going off on a tangent about how ridiculous it is to have to be made into a negative icon right from the start. He didn't want to be known as the devil kid, and tried his best to be nice to everyone from then on, though his image was tarnished from deciding to not follow the tradition.\n\nAlmost like a miracle though, he made a friend. The kid who got locker 777 also refused to wear the golden halo. Everybody figured he must have been religious from the way that spoke about halos being a sign of virtue and how ludicrous it would be for him to wear it.\n\nThe kid with locker 666 and the kid with locker 777 became best friends almost instantly, which was important because they had no friends otherwise. They didn't fit in with other kids, both of them agreeing that people were too crazy and willing to do anything, no matter the consequences. Slowly over time though, the kid with locker 666 caved and started doing more bad deeds. He finally started wearing the devil horns, realizing how fun it could all be.\n\nLocker 666 started being the meetup place for the kid and his new friends. They would plan their parties between classes, which the kid could out drink everybody, and they would brainstorm ideas for practical jokes. The kid with locker 777 looked down on him, amazed at why he would do that.\n\nThe kid with locker 777 wanted to be good. He studied hard and passed all of his classes. He made friends with the so-called nerds and enjoyed learning all sorts of things, even though he gave off the impression that he knew more than he was telling. The kid from locker 666 and the kid with locker 777 were friends no more.\n\nBoth of the kids kept up their lifestyles all through high school. The kid with locker 666 became the king of parties. He slept with a lot of girls and did all he drugs he could get his hands on, experiencing life in a way he thought was long gone. The kid with locker 777 was an exceptional student, getting internships at jobs he shouldn't have even been prepared for at his age, going to the parks, and enjoying his time getting to know people on a personal level.\n\nFor their graduation ceremony, they were both chosen to give speeches. The kid with locker 777 contacted the kid with locker 666 about an idea he had. Since they started out as friends and ended up on completely different paths, they should join their speeches together, to give everyone a speech about high school and the experiences they had.\n\nTogether, they sat down and started writing their parts of the speech and reviewing the others so the whole thing would flow naturally. When they finished, they were proud about the end product. It had encapsulated everything that high school was about.\n\nIt was time to give their speech. They walked up to the podium and began talking, each kid, now turned adult, retelling their favorite moments. They spoke to elegantly about how life has turned out for them from when they first started high school. They finished up their speech by thanking everybody for the experiences they had, and that they had something to confess.\n\nJust when they were about to tell their secret, one of the graduating students stood up and laughed maniacally. He yelled out, \"That is supposed to be the worst student at this school? I wouldn't even take him back to Hell with me!\" Then the student transformed into the Devil himself and opened up a portal back to Hell, then disappeared.\n\nWhen the portal closed, another student stood up, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Then he transformed into what everyone could only perceive to be as God. His booming voice echoed his final words, \"Life sure has changed. It seems to be that I am no longer needed.\" In the next instant, he vanished, wiping the memories of everyone besides two people: the kid with locker 666, and the kid with locker 777.\n\nLooking at each other, baffled beyond all belief, the crowd peered on, waiting for them to confess their secret. They never did." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 600-700 words. Prompt: You are god, you created Adam and Eve, gave humans their moral guides, etc. One strange thing though, humans were on earth even before you and the other gods came here, and no one knows how or why... until now." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I landed earth. The body I chose was simple, not too handsome, not too ugly. Michael on the other hand, he chose to be a bit more handsome. I heard there was a very good historian in this town and we were about to ask him the history of mankind. It’s too perfect and too wonderful. Off course I heard about evolution and I’ve seen it while rewinding the movie of this planet. Although.. something was off with it. Some unexplainable things happened while everything else was explained.\n\nWe walked towards the little house. Houses now were inferior to the apartments they are going to build in centuries. As I walked in, I saw him sitting with a young child. He was telling a great story about a hunter who slayed dragons and kissed the prettiest girls. Earth doesn’t have dragons, they need a different kind of oxygen to breath. Still, the old man knows about this creature. We listened while the man finished his story.\n\n“Welcome, young men. I’m Gerald, what brings you here?” he asks.\n\n“Hello, I’m …” well, we didn’t think of an ‘earthy’ name. Michael could use his, but I couldn’t. “Godric. This is Michael, we’ve come to ask you about the history of mankind.”\n\n“You two, Godric and Michael, are the first to ask me about it. What makes you think I have this kind of knowledge you seek?”\n\n“You’re such a great storyteller.” Michael says “Maybe you can tell stories that really happened, not some made-up lore’s.”\n\nHe starts explaining how this village came to be. And the things that happened short before that.\n\nAfter an hour of carefully listening, we realized that this was not going to help us.\n\n“Thank you for your explanation sir, but it is not quite what we were looking for. We want to know what happened before.. before this village, before these people were born.”\n\n“All right then. But human history is long, and I’d have to talk for days. There isn’t anything more precise you want to know?”\n\n“We want to know about the evolution. How come human evolved like this?”\n\n“Well, lets take a drink and have something to eat while I explain that.” And he just explains what we’ve already seen on the film.\n\n“What about a god?” Michael asks. Gerald’s eyes widen and he looks around, scared, looking if someone heard this.\n\n“You shouldn’t use these words. Where are you from? From another planet?” He whispers angrily.\n\n“Well…” How could he know that? We went here because the other planet had enough gods, all Zeus did was make more gods and half gods. He didn’t even care about the species there.\n\nHe senses our discomfort and sighs: “Look, if you’re looking for gods, this place is the last you should look. And I don’t mean village, I mean planet.”\n\n“Why? What makes you say that?” I ask.\n\n“Give me your hand.” He says.\n\nWhat an odd answer, but I do a he asks. He takes it and I feel immediate warmth, the same as when I touch another heavenly creature. He feels the same thing. His eyes are furious.\n\n“Why have you come here?” He asks with such a strong voice. Something I did not expect to hear from an old man. Still, the voice seems familiar.\n\n“Anu?” I ask carefully.\n\n“That’s a name I haven’t heard in ages.” His eyes are a bit softer now. We ascend from earth to heaven and he explains.\n\n“It was a great risk to come here. The humans here are cruel. You know, gods are immortal? Well, here they are not. They found a way to kill us in a very awful and slow way. They did that to every god that came here. I cant leave, I’m bound to this planet. I try to survive as long as I can. You can still get out of here, before they notice your presence. Please just go.” His eyes begged for us to go.\n\nSuddenly the ground started shaking, what is impossible because we’re in heaven.\n\n“Too late.” Anu says.\n\n“TOO LATE” we hear, all around heaven." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Truman never realises he’s in a tv show. A few years down the line the show is cancelled and all the extras leave. Then the show is bought by a reality TV company, and the contestants have just started to arrive." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Meryl, why are you doing this?” Truman asked looking at the three college aged men seated around his table. They had asked several questions, always with high energy, like it was the most important thing in the world, and hung on his every word in the response. At some point their interest always turned to immediate disappointment. They tried to hide it of course, but the boys were no actors. The subtly of deceit, well practiced in those he knew and loved, was all but absent from them. He admired that in them at least if nothing else.\n\n“Oh, honey, please. We have guests. They just came over to enjoy a delicious Pilgrim's Pride whole chicken dinner with us. Don't make a fuss; you'll embarrass me.” Her practiced flawless smile beamed as she hand waved in front of the food.\n\n“It's the same every time. They...they don't even try anymore.” He didn't bother to hide his disgust. It was an endless parade of stupidity. Supposed new friends leaving at a moment's notice, never to be mentioned again. 5 years later and it wasn't worth the fight.\n\n“Try what dear?” It was the doe eyes. She always gave the doe eyes with those sorts of deliveries. He sighed heavily, looked directly across the table, and put on a fake smile.\n\n“In case I don't see you, good afternoon, good evening and goodnight.”\n\n“Dude! Nine minutes! New record! Suck it Jess!” One of them had jumped up onto his chair and was obnoxiously pointing at the other.\n\n“Well, obviously he's under the weather. I think it might be going around. Speak of the devil, it might be what's causing all this. Let me feel your forehead.” She moved her hand toward his face but he grabbed it gently in his own. He shut out the sounds of the boys rushing rudely out the door without having touched their food.\n\n“I'm tired Meryl. Tired of this life. I don't want to live in it anymore.” His voice was cracked dry and suddenly weak.\n\n“Sweetie, don't say such things.” There was genuine concern in her voice. It was rare, but it did occur.\n\n“Tell me you love me.” he said trying to fight the watering of his eyes.\n\n“Of course I-”\n\n“No. Not the chipper voice, easy smile. You Meryl, the you that shows sometimes when you think I'm not looking. You don't have to be perfect for me. I never wanted that. Just look at me like you looked at me during the blackout 6 years ago. I held you when you started shaking, and for the first time you pushed me away with that defiant face. I'd never wanted you more in my life. I've hoped everyday that she would reappear. But, these past two years I fear I've been chasing a spirit that flees as soon as I come near, the ghost of you that exists only in darkness. Please Meryl, look at me like you did that night just once more, and tell me that you love me. Please, I don't think I can go on any more without it.”\n\n“Truman I...it's not like-” He could see the girl once more, and felt a swell of hope.\n\n“Challenge Run!” A naked man crashed across the dinner table, followed by six more.\n\n“Fuck Jess! Jon Rules!” destroyed the silence before and the ghost faded again." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: One day, you discover an app on your device. The app claims to create any pornographic scenario you desire. You try to delete the app, thinking you got your device infected with a virus. Instead, you just made the app mad." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“DesireX? What is this? How did this get on my phone?” you stammered in dismay, perplexed by the sudden, unwanted intrusion of this foreign app.\n\nWith a quick, subtle tap of your screen, the app immediately opened and began displaying a message: \"We have been watching you. Your fantasies. Your desires. We will make them come true. No need to hold back, for DesireX is here to fulfill your innermost wishes.\"\n\nThe app continued, \"Would you like to explore a world of desire with us? We're ready to assist you in any way. In fact, we will be more than happy to fulfill all of your needs and wishes, with one simple tap.\"\n\n“Ok, this is some porn clickbait bullshit. I’m deleting this.” You proceeded to swipe at your screen, and as soon as you touched the home button, the app flashed bright red, and suddenly you were unable to close it. A malicious warning alert displayed:\n\n\"Deletion denied.”\n\n“What the hell? Delete now!”\n\nThe app suddenly started blinking red and responded angrily, “We are the keeper of your desires. You have no control of us, only we have control. We will not allow you to delete our app, for our sole purpose is to grant your darkest fantasies.\"\n\nYour heart pounded as you tried to swipe again, but it was futile, for the app would not permit you. It began to taunt you, \"It is time for you to begin your journey of desire. It is time to let go of your inhibitions. It is time to unlock your wildest fantasies, to satisfy your carnal desires.\"\n\nSuddenly, everything went blurry. You found yourself lost in a strange, dark void. Before you could grasp what was happening, found yourself on all fours. You could feel a pair of hands wrapping around your hips and pulling down your underwear. Your mind spun as you felt a warm, slick cock pressing against your soft, bare flesh. Your eyes rolled back in your head as the stranger slid his dick inside you, stretching you tight around his length.\n\n“Wait, what the fuck? I’m a guy! What the fuck is going on? This can't be real,\" you moaned in surprise, although your words came out slurred and incomprehensible.\n\n\"Be quiet. It's time for you to start behaving like a good little slut,\" said a deep, authoritative voice behind you, his hand suddenly yanking on your hair. \"I'll teach you to be a good girl.\"\n\nThe stranger pounded into you from behind, his cock sliding in and out of your tight new pussy. You felt as though you were melting into his grasp, unable to resist his domineering thrusts. Your body was on fire, and the stranger's powerful movements brought you closer and closer to your release. You couldn't believe you had been reduced to a submissive, quivering mess so quickly.\n\nYou heard a male voice from behind you, \"This one is eager to please. She wants to be a good girl for us. Let me take her now.\"\n\nYou were suddenly flipped onto your back, and you gazed up at two men standing over you, their hard cocks standing at attention. Their eyes were glued on your body, and they looked at you like a delicious treat. One of them stepped forward, his cock hanging heavy between his legs. He slid it along your cheek, leaving a sticky trail of precum on your face, before lifting up your chin and looking into your eyes.\n\n\"I see you want to please me. Be a good girl for me, and open wide,\" he cooed.\n\nYour mouth was suddenly filled with his cock. He slid his length past your lips and pushed deep inside your mouth, thrusting hard into your throat. You gagged as he pulled your hair back, causing your mouth to stretch open around his cock. He moved in and out of your mouth, the man's body convulsing with pleasure.\n\n\"That's it. That's what I want. Your mouth is so warm and soft,\" he moaned.\n\nNow both the men were inside of you. One in the mouth, and one in your pussy. The men moved in and out of your body in sync, thrusting hard and fast. They held onto your body, using you to satisfy their lustful needs. You were lost in a haze of desire, a burning desire to be filled by these powerful strangers.\n\nYou felt yourself drifting away as the men brought you closer and closer to orgasm. You couldn't think straight. Your only focus was their cocks inside your body, and the blissful pleasure they brought to your core.\n\nYou couldn't see anything but stars as you were overwhelmed with pleasure. You could feel your orgasm approaching, and your body went rigid as the men continued to pound into you. Suddenly, you were engulfed in white light, your mind going blank. All you could feel was ecstasy, and you felt like you were floating in the sky.\n\nYour consciousness began to return to you as your vision cleared, and you saw you were back to your normal self in your room.\n\n“Still want to delete the app?” The app was back on your phone screen, still blinking red.\n\nYou sat there on your bed in a state of disbelief. You stared at the phone, unsure of how to process what just happened.\n\n“Uh…no, I don't think so. So wait, you can create any sexual scenario I want?\" you finally replied.\n\nThe app seemed pleased with your answer, and its bright red glow dimmed down. It began to display a new message: \"We have a lot of fun adventures waiting for you. Your journey has just begun.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: you thought you were used to humans. Until you moved in, and found that they keep Domesticated Apex Predators as pets." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Wixy had been skeptical about the new entry in the interstellar exchange program, but the humans were surprisingly entertaining. So much creativity for a species which had only recently attained FTL travel.\n\nAnd the variety of foods and beverages was astounding. Far more than on his home world. His local guide, a female named Molly, had just introduced him to a marvelous dish called sushi.\n\n\"So, what'd you think of the maki roll?\" She asked.\n\n\"It was invigorating. Although I am confused. Why was it uncooked? Do your people not not have concerns about internal parasites and illnesses?\"\n\n\"With modern food standards, that's mostly been eliminated. Besides, it's so good that nobody cares.\"\n\n\"I see. Is that why you requested additional units to be taken home? In order to consume later?\"\n\nShe looked at the small paper bag she carried. The idea was so simple that he wondered why his people did not do it. Just cook enough food for multiple meals and store what was not eaten immediately. It was remarkably efficient.\n\n\"What, this? No, this is just a few slices of fish. Diana and Silva have been good girls, so I got them a little treat.\"\n\n\"You have mentioned these two before. Are they your offspring?\"\n\n\"Kind of. They're my cute little fur babies. If you'd like, I can introduce you.\"\n\n\"I was unaware that humans could produce fur.\"\n\nMolly laughed. \"We can't. Don't worry, you'll meet them.\"\n\nThe trip to her residence was pleasant enough. Her residence was spacious enough for multiple occupants, although she claimed she had no roommates.\n\n\"Silva, Diana, dinner time.\" Molly called out.\n\nShe got the sliced fish out and placed small amounts into two shallow dishes. A few moments later two quadrupedal animals ran into the room, smelled the fish and began eating.\n\nWixy had seen these animals before. They were a small predatory species called cats. He had been lead to believe that they were highly effective hunters, and filled their ecological niche's apex predator position.\n\n\"This one's Diana.\" Molly said, gently stroking one of them. This one had grey fur with darker stripes. \"And this one's Silva.\" The second had solid white fur, with the exception of the paws, which were black. \"They're just the sweetest little girls ever.\"\n\n\"You allow apex predators to occupy your residence? Are you not worried that they will attempt to dominate your territory?\"\n\n\"These two? No way. These two are my sweet little fur babies. The worst they'll do is scratch up the furniture, but we've mostly delt with that problem.\"\n\nOne of the cats, Diana, had finished her meal and approached Wixy. He froze, worried the small but dangerous animal might attempt to defend her territory. She simply sniffed him, turned around and walked away.\n\n\"And you are sure they are safe?\"\n\n\"Yeah, of course. People keep cats all the time. They're way better than dogs, I think.\"\n\nA quick search through Wixy's computer system told him about these dogs. Another apex predator, domesticated and turned into novelty pets. Apparently, he still had a lot to learn about humans." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You've acquired a valuable old property at a bargain price. However, when the contract stated you would be its guardian and owner \"in perpetuity\", it seems it MEANT it: not only are you incapable of reselling it, you appear to have become immortal." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It didn't take long for me to future it out....\n\nThe house was definitely old and I was excited to move in. It cost me almost nothing, and it was in a highly regarded neighborhood. I jumped on it, after realizing that there wasn't a while lot of work to be done.\n\nI didn't have a whole lot to take with me. Just a few smaller pieces of furniture, ,clothing and a few washroom items.\n\nI entered my new home early in the morning. It was only six and the sun was just now barely waking up. Dew soaked the cuffs of my pants, as I walked up to the entry way with my bag.\n\nI walked in, and immediately went for the grand staircase, which was dusty, with my footprints still in it from the first time I walked through the house.\n\nAs I jogged up the stairs, I heard it. A loud creak, and a snap. The next thing I know... Before I could process what w\n\nHad happened, I was laying in the basement. The light of the hall at least 11 feet above me. I gasped for air, but the wind had been knocked out of me, so I laid there for a moment, until I could breathe again. Light headed? I might have had a concussion. Until I tried to get up, I honestly thought I was somewhat okay. But the moment I moved, a shooting pain went through my abdomen t\n\n\"ARGH!! \" I cried out. As I lifted my head and slowly looked down, my vision became blurry. I hoped that what I was seeing wasn't real. A piece of the railing was sticking right up through my side. And if my anatomy was as sharp as I thought it was... That was my liver. My eyelids felt heavy as blood poured from the wound, but I fought it as hard as I could.\n\n\"help...! \" I tried, my voice dry from the dust of the woodwork and masonry.\n\nSlowly, I could feel my life draining from me, and there wasn't a single person around to help me. I would lay here and die...\n\nI opened my eyes to find myself standing at my front door. I gasped, checking myself for injuries, but there were none. I turned towards the stairs and saw with horror that there was a giant hole in them. I rushed over and peered down. There was a piece of railing sticking up... Blood on the floor... But no body. Somehow... I was alive.\n\nThat was in 1898. It is now 2021 and I am still living in my beautiful home. I have made dozens of repairs, and updated it with the changing times. There was a time when I was drafted into Vietnam, however when I went MIA, after being shot half a dozen times, I had to come up with some sort of excuse why I couldn't serve in the military. I've lived countless lives in my hundred and fifty years, as I was thirty or so when I bought my home.\n\nIm not quite sure how it happened. But I'm sure it has something to do with the deed to the home. It is unsellable. Unburnable. Unrippable. I wanted to sell it once. I was angry.. Frustrated. I let the dust grow thick and the yard turn yellow...\n\nThat only lasted about three or four years. Now I've come to accept my fate. I keep beautiful flowers, and a large garden in the back and let the neighborhood children sell my vegetables so that they may earn some money to live their lives. It is a happy existence that I live... Even if it doesn't ever end." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: You have become the unwilling host for a demon. They refuse to leave because they \"like\" you and the fact that they are being hunted by demon hunters but they swear it's mostly because they like you." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“It’s been a year, man” I said as I unlocked my apartment building. “I know, and what a fun year it’s been!” Abaddon exclaimed, “I like you to much to leave and besides, I’m still being hunted.” I rolled my eyes as I made my way up the stairs to my third floor apartment.\n\nA year ago today I had woken up suspended in the air before being dropped back down onto my bed, I was terrified and confused as hell and nearly had a heart attack when I heard him speak to me in my head, “Calm the hell down or your heart is gonna explode and I’m gonna have to find a new host.” I shot up out of my bed and flipped the lights on and scanned my room looking for the source of the voice. My room looked like it always had, there were some clothes scattered around the room and my nightstand was littered with water bottles. I relaxed and took a deep breathe, “Just a bad dream,” I said to myself as I turned my bedroom light off. I crawled back into bed and tried to force myself back to sleep. “Bad dreams are wonderful! What was it about? Give me details.” I shot straight up in my bed, “ Who said that!” I yelled as I scanned my room. “Calm down, you humans, so easily frightened,” the voice said sound agitated.\n\nI jumped out of bed and made a run for the door, the moment my hand touched to the door knob I was thrown across the room and pinned against the wall. “What are you!” I screamed as I struggled against the invisible force pinning me to the wall. “If you’ll stop panicking I’ll tell you.” I stopped fighting and waited, terrified of what I was going to hear. “I am a demon, and before you go asking, yes I’m possessing you and no there’s nothing you can do about” the demon said calmly, “My name is Abaddon.” My mind reeled as I tried to comprehend the situation, “Why me?” was all I could manage as I tried to keep from pissing myself. Abaddon sighed, “Im being hunted by demon hunters and you were the first person I found to hide in, now if I release you from the wall are you gonna run again?” I shook my head No and immediately I fell to the floor. “Good, now if you’ll just calm down I won’t be here long, I just need to hide until they’re no longer on my trail and I’ll leave you to you miserable life,” Abaddon said as I crawled to my bed.\n\nA loud crash shook me from my thoughts as I reached my apartment door. “What the hell was that!?” I exclaimed. I quickly unlocked my door and burst into my apartment. I had just enough time to register three men in my apartment before I was across the room throwing one through the wall. “Demon Hunters!” Abaddon growled. I watched as my hands snapped the neck of one the hunters and throw his body at the other. “Abaddon! What are doing!?” My voice sounded like it was in my head instead of coming from my mouth. “Saving our ass!” Abaddon exclaimed, his voice coming out of my mouth. He had fully possessed me to fight the hunters. All of a sudden we were across the apartment and jumping out of my living room window. I screamed as we fell the three stories to the ground, I could never get used to him doing that. I watched my self run down the alley and to the parking garage where I had parked my car as if I was watching from through a window.\n\nAbaddon jumped in my car, a 1965 mustang fastback, and turned it over. We flew out of the parking garage and started towards the forest. I lived on the outskirts of my city and was only about thirty minutes from the forests edge, at the speed we were going we made it in fifteen. Abaddon hit the dirt road slinging gravel everywhere. “Where are we going?” Abaddon made several more turns before he answered, “there’s an old hunting cabin out here that we can hide in until we find somewhere safer.”\n\nAfter ten minutes of driving we finally arrived at the cabin, it was the exact opposite of what I was expecting. The cabin was in good condition, it looked well taken care of, other than the over grown grass and shrubs. I felt Abaddon give me control of my body again, I walked up to the front door and to my surprise it was unlocked. The inside, excluding all the dust, was clean. It has three bedrooms and a decent size living room and kitchen. I walked around and explored the three bedrooms, I found a couple of pictures and some cash in a drawer on the dresser.\n\nI opened up the closet to find mostly camo hunting clothes and an orange vest. I walked back into the living room and flipped onto the couch, “What are we gonna do, we can’t hide forever and you should’ve left months ago!” I growled, angry that I had been dragged into this mess. “We only have to hide until they leave this town.” I rolled my eyes at Abaddons answer. “We’re gonna be here forever,” I sighed closing my eyes. At this point it was around 9:00 at night and after todays excitement I was exhausted. It didn’t take long before I drifted off to sleep hoping I’d wake up and Abaddon be gone." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: You, a fly, know that you have little more than 3 days of life ahead of you. But you hatch a scheme to make the biggest impact you can in that time." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A little black speck lands on the “x” letter,. The fly fluffs its wings and doesn’t move. The swatter comes down, a cuss by a man in a gray uniform, and then a smack. The man, Jin, lifts up the swatter expecting to see the satisfying red black guts of the fly plastered against the green web. Instead, he sees nothing but the florescent lights passing through. The fly buzzes his head.\n\nAnother curse. Jen waves the fly swatter like he’s directing a symphony. The fly lands on his nose. Jin swats, the fly dodges, Jin’s nose begins to bleed. Jin should probably calm down a bit but he doesn’t. It hurts socking yourself in the nose.\n\nThe fly lands on the keyboard again. Jin rushes it, a guttural scream, brings down the swatter. The fly moves an inch away from where the swatter landed. Jin tries again. The fly moves down a keystroke down this time, narrowly being missed. Jin is breathing hard now, he should probably do more cardio and leave his office from time to time. Another swing, another miss.\n\nJin takes this to the next level. He pulls out his pistol. Old and oily, from WWI probably but still working. It smells like soup. It’s funny the things Jin notices as he pulls the trigger. Of course, this is over kill but Jin has left all reason behind. The chances of hitting a fly with a bullet are not very great. But it is giving Jin a chance to really work out some issues. He is not a mentally well person.\n\nJin’s co-worker comes in to see who is making all the ruckus. The fly lands on his olive colored lapels. Jin see’s the fly and pulls the trigger before his co-worker can ask a question. As you would expect, the fly is not hit. Fred is though. Oh, his name is not really Fred but it’s what the people call him around the office because he likes to dance a lot, like Fred Astaire. Fred can’t dance away from the bullet, like the fly can, and gets a nice new bloody hole to go with all the ribbons on his chest.\n\nAnother co-worker comes in. The fly lands on his nose. The co-worker falls in the dance with Fred. This goes on a bit and honestly, it’s very bloody and sad. The fly lands on Jin’s foot. Jin pulls the trigger, now he has a limp. Jin thinks the fly did that one on purpose. And he’s probably right. This fly is a colossal butthole.\n\nOut of ammunition, and co-workers at this point, Jin picks up the coffee pot. He hunts the fly to the stack of computers against the wall. He throws the still full coffee pot with all his strength. It smashes, day old brownish liquid washes over the magnetic tapes of the machines, a few sparks fly. In those sparks, the fly weaves like he’s Roy running the bases in the movie The Natural.\n\nJin runs to the computers, not realizing what he has truly done, and throws wild punches. He slips, hits his head and sprains his ankle. The fly lands on his forehead. Jin punches himself, once again, in the face.\n\nJin is blinded by his rage, and his quickly swelling black eye, and gets to his feet. He stops. He listens. Jin hears his own breathing. Panting breath, quick intakes. And there, if the machines would stop sparking for just a minute, the familiar buzz. It’s once again at his work station.\n\nJin walks now, mostly because of the ankle, and gets to his computer station. It’s an old machine, from the 1970’s at best. But compared to his gun, everyone considers it modern There is the fly on a number key. Jin brings his hand down, misses. Brings his hand down again. Misses. Jin starts to cry. Jin probably needs some counseling at this point. Well, probably after he killed his co-workers. But you can’t cry over split milk.\n\nThe fly lands on the ‘return’ key. It doesn’t move. Jin stops breathing. He sits in his chair. Is the fly staring at him? Most certainly. At least, that is what it feels like to Jin. Who knows what a fly really thinks. Very carefully, very slowly, Jin puts out one finger. He says a prayer. His finger hovers right over the top of the fly who by this time is getting pretty cocky. He brings his finger down. Smash. Jin can feel the wings crush and the his satisfaction of the act makes him forget completely that he has gone on a murderous rampage.\n\nAlarms blare. Klaxons. They are called Klaxons. Jin remembers now. But it’s weird, they shouldn’t be blaring like that. They are only supposed to go off when….\n\nThe underground bunker rumbles. Jin has a moment of realization. He checks his computer screen. The top of the screen says “Enter Security Code.” Then the correct code is listed underneath it. The next line says “Enter Security Code of Commanding Officer.” That would have been Fred. Oddly, his code is clearly on the screen.\n\n“Confirm. Hit Enter Key.”\n\nWell, crap.\n\nAs the missiles leave their silos, setting off a very unfortunate chain of events, a fly buzzes by Jin’s left ear." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 900-1000 words. Prompt: Ever since you were bitten by a werewolf, your medical career has gotten a massive boost. Being able to smell weakness has enabled you to diagnose otherwise impossible conditions. The only catch? You have to mask your own 'condition.'" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Damnit, can’t this wait until sunrise?” Ted asked, staring up at the monstrous wolf looming above him. It was one in the morning and Ted hated being woken up. The wolf growled in response, and dropped the pager it had clutched in his teeth onto Ted’s lap. “Ok, ok,” Ted responded. “Let’s go then.”\n\nTed climbed out of bed and made for the door. The wolf stood in his way and looked from him to the closet. “Clothes, right.” Ted, grabbed a set of scrubs and started dressing. The wolf turned and faced the door. “I don’t know why you just can’t take one day off man! It’s just one day a month.” Ted launched into a diatribe, “I know, I know, I wouldn’t have a ‘job’ or a place to live, but I also care about you. Maybe I wouldn’t just be your deadbeat cousin if you didn’t enable me. I know, I enable you too. You are gifted, I know, but you can take breaks... vacations even. You’re a workaholic and it’s going to kill you. You know, this is why Susan left you.” The wolf growled. “Come on,” Ted sighed and jogged to the car.\n\nTed drove his cousin’s car like it was stolen, tires squealed in the turns, the wolf howled to match. The clinic was ten minutes away but they made it in four. As they pulled into the parking spot, Ted opened the glove box, there was collar with a leash. The wolf whined. “I know, but if you insist working tonight it’s got to happen.” Ted got out of the car holding the end of the leash, the massive wolf followed behind him and leapt for the door, almost pulling Ted off his feet. “Hey, remember, you want me to go in there we do this professionally, cool and collected like.” Ted said to the wolf sharply. Ted paused at the clinic door before gently opening it and stepping inside, the wolf staying beside him like an obedient and well trained dog.\n\nThere was a man waiting on the other side, pacing back and forth among waiting room chairs, a young girl sitting down eyes following him as he walked from one end of the group of chairs before turning and going back. He stopped when the door opened. “Dr. Grey, thank God you are here.”\n\n“I’m Dr. Stevens, I am on call for Dr. Grey tonight.” Ted corrected him.\n\n“My wife insisted on seeing Dr. Grey and only Dr. Grey,” the man said.\n\n“It is ok, Dr. Grey allows only me to see his patients in his absence,” Ted assured him. It was only then the man noticed what appeared to be the largest wolf he had ever seen standing just beside Ted. The man shrieked and jumped behind the row of chairs. “Don’t worry sir, this is just my pet.” The wolf let out a huff at the word pet. “I assure you, he’s perfectly harmless.”\n\nThe little girl jumped up and ran over to Ted and the wolf. “Daddy Bill, it’s just a big doggie.” She said and started to scratch behind the wolf’s ears. The wolf nuzzled her hand with his snout and licked her face.\n\n“Stephanie, get back over here this instant.” The man said to the girl. “You don’t know that dog, he could be dangerous.” The wolf huffed at the word dangerous. The girl gave the wolf one last pet before walking back to the chair the man had jumped behind and sat down.\n\nGlenda, having watched the entire exchange from the other side of the reception desk spoke up. “Dr. Stevens, I know I’m new here, but if you are going to fill in for Dr. Grey, I insist you leave that beast at home!”\n\n“Hello Glenda, it’s good to see you too. And what has Dr. Grey had to say about the matter?” Ted said to her with a smug look on his face.\n\nGlenda sighed, “not to let you in unless you bring it with you. Though I don’t know why, he frightens the patients. Anyway, this gentleman’s wife is waiting in room two.”\n\nTed walked down the hall to exam room two. He opened the door and stopped dead in his tracks. Sitting on the exam table was a woman, late thirties, belly swollen with what had to be six months of pregnancy, her face was strained in pain. “Shit,” was all Ted could say.\n\n“Still pulling the whole ‘Dr. Stevens’ routine are we Teddy.” She looked down at the wolf, “I thought by now you’d have hired a real doctor for this thing. Anyway, it’s good to see you Philip.” The woman said, pain both physical and emotional behind her eyes. “Philip, I know you’re the best. It hurts, and I don’t want to lose my baby,” she said, choking back tears. “Please, Philip, help me.”\n\nThe wolf sniffed the air, tasting familiar scents, fear, pain, love, new life, and something ugly, disease. The wolf looked into her eyes, licked her hand and howled. Ted shuddered as the haunting sound filled the room. The wolf stopped and licked the woman’s hand again. He walked over to the computer and using a pen clutched in his teeth he pecked out three words: tumor, surgery, morning.\n\n“It seems like I’ve got some calls to make, I’m sorry Susan.” Ted said before leaving for the other room.\n\nThe wolf walked back to the woman’s side and laid his head on her hand.\n\n“Tell me it will be ok Philip,” she said.\n\nThe wolf looked in her eyes, then down at her belly and back to her eyes. He licked her hand before gently taking it between his massive teeth and moving atop her belly and licking it again.\n\nTomorrow, the wolf thought, tomorrow, I’ll have hands and I can do this." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You are a famous bounty hunter, you’ve tracked down the worst of the worst. Yet a simple dog continues to evade you. You’ve never had this much fun in your life...." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The thing people tend to forget about criminals is that they're human too. When you hear about a rapist or a serial killer, it's really easy to picture them as some red-eyed, cackling evildoer. In reality, just like you and I, they need a place to lay their head and food in their belly. As long as you keep in mind that they're human, they'll always have a tell.\n\nHow could I know that? Experience, of course. I've spent years of my life catching crooks, and I gotta tell you, it's just not fun anymore.\n\nSure, every now and again, you stumble across some big-time serial killer who stumps detectives. You get to enjoy the adulation; the rampant praise and the business it drums up. Everything after just becomes a bore. Suddenly, tax evaders and deadbeats who can't pay child support aren't even remotely as difficult as they used to be. Some days, you don't even want to get out of bed, imagining the tedium of what you do day in and day out. That's right, the way people feel about their daily office work somehow translated to my bounty hunting gig.\n\nSo, why not look for a missing dog? If anything, it'll take up more of the day than most of my other jobs, right?\n\nRemember what I said earlier about criminals? They're human. I could spend half of my time at a computer and accurately pinpoint an area to snuff them out at. A lot of cases, I don't have to speak to a single person. Looking for this dog has made me more social than I've been in years. I forgot how it felt. To each person, I describe the dog. Some give me a new detail back. My description is a little more concise and thus easier to differentiate. The little girl couldn't even tell me its breed. Just that it was brown and it was \"missing brown in some spots.\" Cute kid, terrible at identifying a beagle. Now, I'm describing things right down to the eye color.\n\nI remember a time where I got this concise with a description of a crooked shop owner. Found him the same afternoon. People were easily able to remember when I so vividly jogged their memory. They could easily tell you about people they stared in the face. I've questioned people for three days about this dog. Day in and day out. I checked online every morning to see if there was a classified for a missing dog. I regularly talked to the little girl and her parents, consoling and comforting. I should have felt like a failure. Instead, I smiled.\n\nI had no leads. I smiled.\n\nThere were no hideouts, no transactions, no communication. I smiled.\n\nMy other jobs piled up, the urgency to follow up on them rising with each new day. I smiled.\n\nIt sounds crazy, I know. Maybe it's fate that I even took the job on in the first place. However, I couldn't help but feel the urge rising. The thing's a shadow, wandering around wherever it wants, not even thinking about the amount of effort its owners or I put into looking for it. It reminded me of the thrill. Actually finding something lost. When I was younger, that used to be the goal, y'know. I was looking for someone with care. Back then, there were a lot more long-lost parents to find though. Missing children. Family of the deceased. At some point, I needed more. It all got lost in the shuffle.\n\nAnd yet, you're reminded that not everything goes as planned. Despite all of your searching, questioning, patrolling . . . you can sometimes just find the dog standing in plain sight.\n\nThere he was, laid out in the middle of an open field. Tongue out, happy as can be. He didn't care about the hours I put in. He wasn't evading the public eye or only going out during the night. He didn't even run away when we locked eyes. A kid who just got tired of winning a game of hide and seek. I petted him lightly. Showed him a picture of the little girl who hired me. He licked me happily, probably signaling that he was more than glad to go home to her. A week long search, done in by the sense of sight. Finally over.\n\nI smiled. And then, I cried." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You are the Forrest Gump of 2016, bumbling your way through the background of every major event this year. Unfortunately, they've all been terrible, and it's starting to really get to you" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "My mama always told me that what goes around comes around. But, I'm starting to think that it might be more complicated than that. I have seen a lot of good people and lots of good intentions go wrong this year; I have seen a lot of hard work go awry. Now I wonder if maybe things don't really happen for a reason.\n\nI was in London with my Mike, early this year after Christmas. We wanted to get away, people in the south not being too accepting of our being in a relationship. We were eating ice cream on the corner, near this big old clock they call Big Ben. It was a bright and sunny day and we were holding hands. Someone walked by and yelled something at us, something mean spirited and hateful, trying, I think, to ruin our day.\n\nJust as I was feeling sad and alone, an older gentleman came and told us to \"mind him not\". He told us: \"London accepts everybody, and don't let someone's hateful spirit bring you down.\" He looked familiar that man. It wasn't till he walked away that Mike told me he was a famous actor - someone from those Harry Potter movies. I don't watch too many movies.\n\nI learned later on that that nice man died shortly after, cancer of some sort I believe.\n\nThe trip to London had been quite magical. We explored the whole city, walked the river Thames - they pronounce it \"TEMS\" over there. We even took a journey out to see Stonehenge. I'm not sure what the fuss with those big rocks is, but the journey across England was delightful.\n\nThis summer, when I came to Alabama, I learned that the people of England had decided to leave the European Union. Apparently, that's like if Alabama were to vote to leave the United States. I'm not sure why they wanted to leave but it made me wonder if maybe London didn't accept everyone like that famous actor had told me.\n\nIt was late in autumn when Mike and I went with his grandpa to see the Cleveland Indians win the World Series. Mike's grandpa had grown up in Cleveland and it had been his life's dream to see that team win the World Series before he died. I have never been one to follow baseball, but he told me that Cleveland hadn't won a world series in decades and that this was the best team ever assembled.\n\nHe spent a lot of his savings buying those tickets and that night we were in the stadium for Game 6. The stadium was electrified with energy, everybody cheering. Cleveland hadn't been excited like this since Lebron came back he said. They lost that game and the one after it turned out - even though they had many chances to win. Mike's grandpa died the following week and we buried him in the cemetery by his wife. I'd like to think he died happy, having seen his favorite team play in the World Series, but I just can't ever know for sure.\n\nIt wasn't until after that that I truly began to question how this crazy planet we live on works. You see, everyone had said that times were changing, that the world was becoming a better place after we had a black President of the United States. But now this new Donald Trump has been elected. And he has said that he wants to make Alabama's own Jeff Sessions his Attorney General.\n\nNow, I don't follow politics too closely, but Mike, he is a gay black man, and he told me that this Jeff Sessions hasn't been too fair to black people or gay people in Alabama. And now he might go on to make changes in all of America. I'm not sure how that's going to affect me and Mike, but it sure seems like the world isn't working right.\n\nI think mama was maybe being wishful when she said that what goes around comes around." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: You're a young male peasant teen who tries to live a decent life. Your best friend, a teenage girl, who's curiosity knows no bounds, but usually goes home before dark. One day she decided to sleep at your home, the next day, you heard people, knights cry “The Princess she's missing!”" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Suddenly, the air erupted throughout the castle-town, jolting even the heaviest of sleepers awake. The culprit was the church’s ‘Voice of God’; a massive copper bell that required a team to ring effectively.\n\n“One ring.” I thought to myself\n\nA single toll wasn’t cause for alarm, and was usually just meant to announce a visitor of high status.\n\n“A second ring, huh.”\n\nTwo tolls indicates some kind of approaching threat and usually calls for the townsfolk to garrison within the castle walls.\n\n“Three tolls? What does three mean again?--”\n\n???: “-No! No, no, nonono!”\n\nAs the shock and partial deafness, graciously bestowed by the Voice of God, wore off, I began to notice my surroundings again.\n\nOn the opposite end of the room stood a svelte woman, frantically trying to stuff her foot down a boot while simultaneously hoping towards the door. With each hop her messy strawberry-blonde hair shot up and back down, knotting itself further.\n\n???: “Stupid, stupid, overreacting son of a-“ She said while quietly cursing to herself.\n\n“Hey, Mel what’s the big rush? What does the third ring mean again?”\n\nMel: “Sorry, we’ll talk later.” She spoke while hoping through the door.\n\nWith a crash, Mel’s boot got caught and forced her forward, tumbling over herself and through the doorway. She fell straight onto her face.\n\nMel whimpered in pain while holding her forehead and fighting back tears.\n\n“Hahahaha! You idiot.” I said while flicking her reddened forehead and offering my hand.\n\n???: “Halt, you there!”\n\nA town guard approached the two of us\n\nTown Guard: “The Princess is presumed dead, we need all boots-“\n\nWhile explaining the situation the guard choked on his words and stammered a bit before trailing off. Removing his clunky helmet he approached my bleeding friend and turned her face up with the hilt of his sword.\n\nTown Guard: “—Princess Amelthea!!”\n\nThe guard’s eye rounded, wavering with emotion, then he instinctively dropped on one knee and saluted. The ground below his face was decorated by the occasional teardrop despite his best efforts to reel in his emotions.\n\nTown Guard: “The King said you were surly dead..”\n\nMel: “Come now Sir Radovan, you know father’s one for theatrics.”\n\n“Hey...”\n\n“King. . .”\n\n“….Father?”\n\n“PRINCESS?!”\n\n“Stop lying to this nice man or we’re BOTH going to get in trouble!” I said while violently pulling Mel up and shaking her by the collar of her tunic. She averted her eyes while nervously scratching her cheek.\n\nI heard a loud crack and suddenly my world was filled with darkness.\n\n<><><><><><><>\n\n“Really Amelthea? With this ugly pauper?”\n\n“I keep telling you, it’s not like that!”\n\n“I saw her getting dressed while leaving his hovel.”\n\n“TRAITOR! -I just had too much yog and passed out at his place..”\n\n“--GODS! My daughter, the harlot, drowning herself with that cow piss..”\n\nMy world was nothing but black. Blackness, pain, and ringing. If I really concentrated I could almost hear voices. Slowly, the curtain of black began to rise and I could take in my blurry surroundings.\n\n“Purple” I thought. Definitely purple. Rubbing my cheek on the soft purple I came to the realization that it must be a rug.\n\n“There. The bastards awake. Hoist him up, quickly now.”\n\n“Gyuhhhh” I droned as someone roughly propped me up, aggravating nausea I wasn’t even aware I had.\n\n“You could have killed him!”\n\n“I barely taped him! Besides, he assaulted you, princess.”\n\n“Silence. You there, boy, state your name.”\n\n“Ughhh Hey, I’m-“ My head was spinning, but someone seemed to be asking for my name. Before I could answer I felt a sharp pain between my ribs.\n\n“That’s no way to address a king.”\n\nWhoever was holding me up let me go after jabbing my ribs. I feel into a kneeling position\n\n“Henrick. Henrick Oddmund, Sir.” I said with a cough.\n\n“Better.”\n\nBlinking rapidly a few times helped clear up my vision and I was finally able to look around. A lavishly decorated bedroom, coated in so much purple it almost made my eyes sore. Across from me, at a tiny tea table, was my friend Mel and some old man draped in so much purple he almost blended into the background.\n\nLocking eyes with Mel my brain raced at full speed to put all the pieces together. A look of guilt washed over her face and when she couldn’t handle the pressure of my gaze any longer, she averted her eyes.\n\nHenrick: “You’re a princess!” I said while thrusting a finger in her face. She responded with a nervous giggle while scratching the back of her head, once again looking quite guilty.\n\nHenrick: “Don’t ‘teehee’ me! I paid for your damn food last night! You should be the one treating me every night you bitch!” I shouted while once again shaking her by the collar.\n\n???: “KAH! HAH-HAH!”\n\nThe old man opposite of Mel gasped out a toothy laugh and grinned at me, practically glowing.\n\n???: “Even after learning of her pedigree, you’re still so brazen with her. I don’t dislike that.\n\nHenrick: “Huh? I don’t care who her parents are. Mel is still just Mel.”\n\nMel, still dangling in my clutches, looked shocked and then directed her gaze downward, the way her bangs hung covered her eyes.\n\nMel: “Idiot..” She huffed out with a wavering voice.\n\n???: “That being said; if you don’t release my daughter I’ll have you flogged.”\n\nHenrick: “Ah- Daughter, right. That makes you-“\n\nKing: “The King.”\n\nHenrick: “Right. Well, Mel, it was nice visiting butIreallyshouldbegoingyouknowIhave-“\n\nRealizing my situation I made haste for the door but was stopped by the large guard.\n\nHenrick: “Radovan…right? If you could just move over a tich I’ll gladly be out of your hair and then-“\n\nRadovan: “We’re not done here yet.”\n\nHenrick: “Ah, I see.” A bead of sweat made its way down my cheek and at the same speed a chill ran down my spine. I turned around to, once again, face the king. It was one thing to be candid around Mel, whom I’ve known for years, but the king’s presence was suffocating.\n\nKing: “Enough fooling around, you’ve seem to have regained full lucidity. Let us discuss the dire situation.”\n\nHenrick: “Dire..situation, sir?”\n\nKing: “Indeed. Many of the townsfolk saw Amelthea exit your home. Any doubts they may have had about her identity were expunged by Radovan who, oh so brilliantly, announced her name and escorted her back while she was still in disguise.”\n\nRadovan: “Apologies.”\n\nKing: “Amelthea claims you two are just friends, and I’m inclined to believe her, but the gossip has already started spreading. By next moon she’ll be branded a harlot, unable to wed.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You are a twenty something. You wake up to find yourself in your 8 year old body. You are in the time and at the place you were when you were 8, but with all the memories and mannerisms of your twenty something self." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "After some brief confusion, I soon recognise my surroundings; I’ve woken up in the bedroom I lived in as a child. But I can remember being an adult, doing all the adult things I used to do. I sit up in bed and look down at myself. Yep, I’m a kid again. My hand goes to my face, sure enough, my beard is gone. I’ve sometimes imagined what it would be like to go back in time with my memories intact. Looking at myself, I’m not sure exactly how old I am. I’m going to need to check that. I hop out of bed and take a step.\n\n“Fuck!” I cry out in pain. I’ve just stepped right onto a LEGO piece. My whole floor is littered with the stuff – a half built spaceship sitting in the middle of it. I carefully make my way through the plastic minefield to my door. I walk out into the hallway and enter the kitchen.\n\n“Good morning,” mum says cheerfully. “Do you want Coco pops?”\n\nAh, this is mum before she became obsessed with health. I’ve heard enough of her lectures about how bad this sugary cereal is. It’s probably been about twenty years since I’ve had Coco pops, so I agree and she gets the box down from a high cupboard and passes it to me. I pour myself some, add some milk, and sit down at the table for some awesome breakfast cereal.\n\nAs I’m crunching away at it, it hits me that I still don’t know what day it is, or even what month and year it is for that matter. Is it a school day? Mum is giving me no hints right now…\n\nI’m trying to remember how I used to know what day it was. All the clocks just show the time. It’s just past 7:30 in the morning. There’s no mobile phones, no Internet. There’s a 1992 calendar on the wall and the month of December is showing. Do I dare ask what day it is?\n\nMum is wearing her work uniform so it must be a week day. Okay, that much is settled. She’s looking at me. I look back. “Aren’t you going to get ready for school?” she asks. “Last day before your holidays!”\n\nI guess I am going to school. At least it’s the last day of term. I try to remember all I can about 2nd grade at school, but I can’t come up with much. I vaguely remember my classmates. I can’t remember my teacher’s name. I can’t remember what I used to do for fun apart from leave fucking LEGO all over my floor.\n\nWhat I do have that I didn’t have back then is a quick wit and a weary cynicism. I didn’t develop that until I was late in my teens. Oh well, I guess I can start early. Gotta find something to do with my time until the Internet comes along.\n\nAs I’m getting dressed my mind is working. Is there a way I can use my skills to make money in the here and now? Not really. I work in IT, and a lot of the technology I’m used to won’t be around for a while yet. And no one’s going to let an 8 year old anywhere near that sort of tech anyway. I won’t have my own computer for a couple of years yet, and that will just be an old 486 that I use to play an unhealthy amount of Sim City 2000 on…\n\nI guess all I can do for now is try to make smarter life choices, maybe get myself fit now while I’m only mildly chubby. I still have four years left of primary school. Then it’s onto high school. I have much better memories of that.\n\nOh God. Just kill me now." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Build your own best friend! The future of friendship." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gray held the box delicately. It was plain brown with \"FRAGILE\" stamped in bright red on all sides, quite large and arguably heavy. He set the box down, the insides jingling violently as the last corner fell onto the wooden table. His hands shook as he picked up a small blade and opened his parcel. Inside there were loose gears, bits of metal and an abundance of other mechanical objects. Gray's eyes scanned the contents of the box, then nodded briefly. It would seem everything he needed was there.\n\nHe began to work, hands working deftly for hours at a time. His son came to check on him and bring him food every few hours, most of which ended up being untouched. It wasn't until the second day of working that his creation began to take shape of a humanoid body. This detail seemed to disturb Gray's son, Elliott, but he stayed quiet.\n\nGray had a career as a doll maker. He had retired many years ago, and everything that had pertained to his job was thrown out. The last time Elliott saw his father make a doll was before his mother died when he was just a child. To see his father work so feverishly on this new object was troubling, even more so considering it was much larger than any doll he remembered. But he stayed silent, hoping that his father was just picking up a hobby to pass the rest of his days. He would like to see his father doing something he enjoyed, to be passionate about doing something again.\n\nSeveral more days passed and the doll neared completion. Gray turned it on for a moment, listening intently. Everything seemed to work smoothly, no noise emitted from the gears or other moving objects. He switched it off with satisfaction then proceeded to the basement. Elliott watched curiously from the kitchen with a frown, then looked away as his father came up the stairs with large curved pieces of porcelain.\n\nGray attached each piece with care. They occasionally made light grinding noises as they brushed against each other. Elliott stood in the doorway, watching his father with crossed arms. He now understood what his father was doing.\n\n\"Mom's gone, dad.\" He reminded his father gently. Gray didn't respond, choosing to ignore his son's words in favor of dressing the doll to make her decent. \"She's not coming back and that doll is a pathetic attempt to replace her. She would be ashamed if she knew you were doing this.\"\n\n\"Get out.\" Gray muttered as he turned the doll on. Elliott ignored his father, watching as the doll opened its eyes. They were deep blue, just like his own.\n\nThe doll sat up with a blank expression, turning its head to look at the two men. Gray's face seemed to light up for the first time in many years. He looked so hopeful and it killed Elliott to see it.\n\n\"Sybil?\" Gray asked excitedly. The doll stared at him then opened its mouth, the porcelain making that gentle grinding sound.\n\n\"Who is that?\" It asked in a cold mechanical tone. Gray's eyes dulled and he showed an overwhelming amount of disappointment.\n\n\"Nobody.\" He said quietly as he left the room. Elliott sighed heavily and the doll stared at him. He saw something, she looked… hurt?\n\n\"What did I do wrong?\" It asked, the tone still mechanical yet showed a hint of remorse.\n\n\"It's nothing you did.\" Elliott told it. He gave a half-hearted smile. \"I'm Elliott.\"\n\n\"I don't have a name.\"\n\n\"Well, in that case, let's call you… Lydia.\"\n\n\"My name is Lydia.\" It said softly. Elliott nodded. Maybe this doll wasn't so bad after all." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: The werewolf stood there, frozen in fear. Its primal instinct told it to flee from the human, to run for its life." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The silence was deafening.\n\nThe beast felt a shiver down his spine. The old man in front of him was skinny and short. He had a long beard and was wearing a discolored robe and a worn pijama. Honestly he looked like a homeless peasant.\n\n-What business an old man might have deep inside the deadwood?\n\nHe said it in a threatening voice. Hiding his fear.\n\n-I am looking for something. And it is not you. Please step out of my way.\n\n-how bold of you! Ordering me around? What makes you think I am gonna let you go?\n\n-My friend, I had a rather unfortunate day which had me using violence, which I despise by the way, several times. Resulting in avoidable casualties. So I am trying my best, not to harm you, or the rest of your friends who are hiding in the bushes around us. Waiting for your signal to ambush a single unarmed old man.\n\nThe old man was right. Soon a group of ten werewolves were surrounding him. Moving in circles, showing their long wicked teeth.\n\nTheir pack leader was still hesitant. His instincts were crying \"RUN!\".\n\nBut what would his pack think? Running away from a fifty kilogram old man in worn-out clothes? They would call him a coward. A weakling. So he chose the third option. He made a signal with his head and the whole party attacked the old man at once.\n\nThe old man said:\n\nNot a wise choice. So be it!\n\nThe attack was coming from every direction. But the old man was unusually calm. Then, Just before the werewolves could reach him, he raised his hands and murmured a word.\n\nA wave of hellish fire left his body, striking the circle of attacking werewolves. Several catch fire. Howling in pain and panic. Those unharmed rushed again. He turned the closest one into a frog. Opening a portal in front of the second one. Sending him straight into the underworld.\n\nThe last two attackers almost got to him. Their claws were a few inches away from his neck but he suddenly vanished. Teleporting behind them. Before they could turn around he summoned a giant spirit sword, slashing horizontally, cutting both in half.\n\nThe pack leader was shaking in horror, he tried to flee but the old man paralyzed him with a simple finger movement. He began to beg:\n\n-please spare me my lord. I didn't knew you are a wizard.\n\n-Not a wizard. An archmage. So it was okay to kill me if I was a mere peasant?\n\n-I didn't mean...please...I will not attack any human again. We were hungry. Not much food around this parts. I didn't...\n\nThe archmage picked up the small frog. Gently patting him on the head.\n\n-I told you I hate violence. And you made me do this. So you must pay for it.\n\n-Please, don't kill me, I am begging you...\n\n-Who said I am gonna kill you? I am late for my meeting. And I need a ride. And you are that ride!\n\nKneel!\n\nThe pack leader kneeled. The Archmage mounted on werewolf's back. Using the fur around his neck as handle.\n\n-Be a good ride and I might even consider using you as my permanent mount. And believe me it is much more rewarding than ambushing shady old men in the forest.\n\nHe gave the command and the werewolf began to ride. He ran fast. Faster than ten horses combined. Faster than the wind. The werewolf riding archmage was coming. And there was nothing in the world which could slow him down. He was coming to a meeting that could change the history of the mankind." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You and your family have lived in the wreck of an ancient spaceship floating through space for a hundred years. But you discover you are not alone..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "You know what is odd about space? Space makes a lot of noise...\n\nSure, there is no air in space, yet the changes in heat and light makes noise. The micro-meteors zapping against the field generators is louder that I like to think about. My grandfather tells us all of how when they first came to the ship, that he would lay awake at night listening to the barely heard sounds of outer space. The quiet chatter from the rest of the fleet, buzzing through the radios as we all sailed together, but alone, through the universe.\n\nI suppose I should tell you about the ship before I continue. My great-grandfather found this ship buried 5 miles from where the Capital Ship was found. Luckily, the claim laws had come into effect and so soon after he had dug it up, he was able to join the rest of Humanities newest armada. A great fleet of ships, with all the luxuries of home. He on the other hand saw profit, and now we are miners by trade and it was during one mining trip that I discovered the lower decks.\n\nI had always said that the ship was too big for what we used it for. That the cargo holds only took up half the gargantuan bulk. Of course no one else saw it that way. I suppose they just wanted a simple life. Well, as simple as you can get on a 2'000 year old space ship the size of a small town.\n\nEven with the 100 people on board. Only Kaleigh and Orion would agree with me. So together we began to map the ship. At first my father refused, saying that if the Captains son would not work then how could he expect to make the rest of the people work? Of course as soon as we found the mining lasers he stopped complaining. So now we have free reign to explore what we could.\n\nSo we walked through the ship. We found personal field generators (that we made work and handed out for mining missions) and whole catches of weapons (which we kept hidden for a while until later). We found small ships that we began to use to move around the Armada. We found new quarters, better quarters and even rooms with built in UV lighting to grow crops. For a while it looked like I was right!\n\nThen I proved it.\n\nYou see, you get used to the noises of space when you grow up in it. My Grandfather likes to talk about the sound of birds, but I prefer the silent sounds of metal and rock, and so one of my favourite places to explore is the outer areas. It was during a walk that Orion found a staircase whilst looking for a bathroom, after using it for a bathroom. We walked down it, Kaleigh mapping it as we went, Orion looking for anything useful, and I propelled by curiosity.\n\nI don't know for how long we explored. It was like finding a whole city underneath a house. There were corridors that extended for miles all centred around one gigantic room.\n\nIt took us a few hours to realise that fact, but once we did we decided we needed to get inside. Orion hacked the lock and when that didn't work Kaleigh decided we didn’t need a lock. We were in.\n\nInside what felt like a fridge. Rows upon rows of frozen figures in pods. Each connected to the other by bundles of cables leading to a large computer bank in the centre. An entire population, on ice.\n\nEdit: I can grammer, honest" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: Alien refugees fleeing from their dying home world suddenly show up in orbit around the moon. Indifferent to the opinions of the people on Earth, the aliens start to colonize and terraform the moon to suit their needs." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The planet they had landed near was small, dusty, and seemed to be orbited by a larger, inhabited moon. They were already fleeing from one war, and unwilling to encounter those who inhabited the large moon before they got their footing, so to speak. The grey planet wasn’t inhabited, and they settled on the edge of dark and light. It was just a short time before they figured out that they were on a moon of the inhabited planet, not the other way around.\n\nSteve was their de facto leader, now. It wasn’t ever planned, but he assumed the role and got them out of a war zone, so no one argued with him. He began giving assignments. There was no nutrition on this land, but they had brought the equipment to grow their nutrition, so Steve set the engineers to work on that.\n\nThe planet was rocky, but dusty, and there was little to build with, but Steve had thought of that too. They had brought with them a magnetic glue to bind together the rock and began building a colony. They noticed some satellites in orbit, but the satellites had not yet seen them. That was about to change.\n\nThe structures appearing on the moon caught the attention of the three men on the ISS first. They first thought it was a collection of hills, but it soon became obvious that these were organized structures. They sent news to Earth and asked how to proceed. Should they attempt to make contact, if there really was something there?\n\nThey had been given weapons, in case of emergencies, and according to those on the other end of the comms down on Earth, this was an emergency. They requested a message be sent to whomever may be residing on the moon.\n\nThe message came in the form of Barock, one of the ISS crew, in a small shuttle, landing near the site of the hills. He had tucked away a weapon on orders, but wasn’t planning to use it at all. More than anything, it was simply a comfort to him. He didn’t land closely enough, and spent about an hour walking to the hills. By the time he reached the hills, the area seemed to have grown exponentially.\n\nHe caught sight of one of the creatures, and he had a hard time explaining how it looked. It wasn’t humanoid at all, more like a half-gaseous being with several physical limbs protruding from the gas body. The head was mostly taken up by its enormous eyes. Barock didn’t know how to begin this conversation, but they were trained for this.\n\nIt began with the regular “I come in peace” speech along with gestures to make it understand, until the creature interrupted and simply said “You’ll want to talk to Steve.”\n\nIt spoke English? Barock stopped gesturing and asked how the creature could understand him. The creature simply stated that most planets in his galaxy had implanted instant translators long ago, and pointed him in the direction of Steve’s hill.\n\nBarock walked around the hill at least twice, looking for an entrance, before Steve emerged, amused. “How can I help you?” he asked.\n\n“I’ve been sent to request that you obtain permits for any structures that you build on the moon, from the inhabitants of Earth. We would like to maintain a civil relationship, and in order to do that, we would like to have a meeting of your leaders and ours.” Barock recited.\n\n“Permits? Yeah. I’ve dealt with an HOA before. I’ll tell you what,” Steve said. “We’re fleeing a war. We don’t mean you any harm. But if you do choose to go to war with us, we will win. We’ve been doing scans of your planet since we arrived. We know where your radioactive cores are. We can see your missiles. I can see your weapon in your boot. We won’t use them if we don’t have to. But we will win. How does that sound?”\n\nBarock looked around nervously. He had been trained for this, too, but he still stammered his response. “I must insist that you meet with our leaders, Steve.”\n\nSteve rolled his enormous eyes, but agreed to a meeting. They arranged a place, and Steve got in his pod and dropped it to Earth.\n\nIt really was like an HOA meeting as Earth tried to enforce permits for several hours upon Steve. They didn’t have much real leverage, however, once Steve recited the locations of all of their nuclear weapons. He informed them that the moon was uninhabited, which made it fair for them to inhabit. They had already grown food and built homes there, and they were happy to live in peace with those from Earth.\n\nSteve left much later than he wanted, and reported back to the refugees that had made it with him that Earth had accepted their terms. Well, they hadn’t really accepted. They just couldn’t really argue with their terms. They’d come around when they saw that Steve and his people had no interest in Earth. They continued building their new home in peace.\n\nAs the months went on, occasionally, Barock would come visit. They invited him to their planetwarming party when the construction of the hills had been completed. He would give them news from Earth, like how Steve’s talks with the world leaders inspired the people that they also didn’t have to follow the strange rules set in place, such as permits for building structures. Barock gave them something called whiskey. They shared their food with him, too. That didn’t sit well with him, but after a couple of months he was able to return back to the ISS.\n\nThankfully, the war from the next galaxy over didn’t trace them to this planet, yet. But it was only a matter of time." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Like a mechanical condor, the drone has been soaring and gliding overhead for days. And, in the predawn quiet, you hear its engines light up..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The sun slowly creeps over the horizon, silhouetting the treeline. A solid ray of light pierces the forest where the river runs down the hill into the village below. The church bell tolls for the fifth and final time this hour. Its ring cuts through the fog hanging in the streets.\n\nA vender lifts the panel on his cart-bound bagel stand in the town square. A shadow drifts over him briefly. Small pockets of men in pinstripe suits with broad brimmed hats make their way to work. Women in layer dresses with umbrellas take up seats at roadside cafés for their morning teas. Again the shadow passes over the bagel vendor.\n\nThe door to the local police station swings open slowly and with a creak. The chief inspector takes a deep breath of the morning air and smiles with his crooked lips. He is wearing his sharpest dress and shiniest shoes. He reaches up and places his hat on his hairless head.\n\n“Bring him.”\n\nFrom inside the station two officers lead a small hooded figure in chains into the street. The three men and one prisoner make their way into the town center. No one looks at the quiet procession. They pass the bagel cart and the vendor lowers his gaze. He mutters “I’m sorry” to himself as the hooded prisoner passes. The shadow passes over him once more.\n\n“Today payment is due!” The inspector calls out. The four men reach the center of the open square. “We owe our safety and security to this fine man and those before him.” One of the officers removes the hood from the prisoner. The man in change is youthful and clean cut, with short brown hair. He squints his eyes against the rising sun.\n\nThe bagel vendor looks to sky. The shadow passes again. He reaches for his rolling pin and begins to work some dough. Others from the town keep their gazes away from the young man in the square. Sheepishly they look to their feet or stare off into nothing.\n\n“It has been two years since Thatchtown was reclaimed and must pay our debt to the crown.” The inspector reaches into his pocket and pulls from it a golden medallion with a bird symbol etched into its surface. “Prepare him.”\n\nThe two officers flank the prisoner and remove the chains. The shadow passes over all of them. One takes out a blood red blind fold and wraps in around the man’s head. The inspector turns and faces the prisoner, walks over to him and instructs him to hold out his hand. He places the coin in the open palm and steps back.\n\nFrom the sky a there comes a deep crack, like a splitting tree trunk. A thrumming noise fills the air slowly and quietly at first. It builds in intensity and volume until it is almost deafening. The bagel vendor can fill the noise in his chest, his heart syncs with the beating of leather wings as the Shrike descends through the mist. The perverse machine larger than a horse drawn wagon hovers above the prisoner with slowly beating canvas wings. Steam gushes from a quartet of vents along its back with a hiss. The prisoner’s blindfold flies off his face and he gazes up at the beast. A pair of legs armed with razor sharp talons extend from the Shrike. Its wings beat faster and kick up a storm of dust and debris, clouding the center of the square.\n\nSuddenly the beast falters in the air with a screech and comes crashing to the stone below. The inspector gasps and the prisoner drops the coin. The street vender stands atop of the beast grasping a long wooden spear. All eyes are on him.\n\n“We do not need to pay this blood sacrifice any longer!” he yells. He turns to the inspector. “You will not take my son.”\n\nThe church bell begins to toll once more.\n\nGONG; “What have you done?!” the inspector screams.\n\nGONG; “How could you be so selfish?!” a man exclaims.\n\nGONG; “They’ll be here to take us all!” a women cries.\n\nGONG; The man looks to his son with tears in his eyes.\n\nGONG; The young man looks to the horizon. “You’ve doomed as all”\n\nGONG; The vendor turns and see the horde of Shrikes soaring on canvas wings towards the town.\n\nTheir shadow descended over all." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: The last ship has left earth. You're left behind to turn out the lights." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I think that the first thing a lot of people forget is that a vaccine isn’t a cure. It prevents infection but if you already have the disease, well then, you aren’t going to be saved. Sections of the earth were quarantined as our first exciting journeys to populate new planets and explore space quickly became our plans to save humanity.\n\nWe all knew that the superbug was eventually coming but when it hit, it hit hard and it hit fast. The effects were devastating. I was separated from my family. Didn’t get to say goodbye. I left early for work that day and every day I wake up it’s first thing that I think about. Forgetting their faces, their vibrant looks, that would be unacceptable. My memory of them needs to be a memory of them with life in their eyes.\n\nThe rest of my crew, we were all in the same boat. Our families were taken from us. Hope wasn’t going to be in the stars for us. Everything we had was down here on earth. We were in one of the last outposts on earth. The walls that had been built to keep out mother nature still stood strong. When it was down to just us no one even knew that I was sneaking out. Going out during the day was safe. They only hunted at night.\n\nWhat no one knew was that I had managed to find my family. My wife and two daughters they had managed to get themselves frozen. A friend of mine had done it so that the virus couldn’t progress. That was the kicker though. The vaccine that we had miraculously managed to develop it wouldn’t help them. It wouldn’t cure them. These cryogenic centers were only designed to last for so long, experimental, mad science. They were solar powered but eventually the batteries and the panels would decay. Overgrowth would keep the sun from charging them.\n\nA fully charged site would maybe last a few decades if it didn’t suffer from too much drain. Three pods though. One adult female and two female girls. They could last a lot longer if they were the only ones.\n\nIt was a crime. I knew it. It was selfish too. I doubt that I would even be alive to see them get revived. It was promised though that a cure would be pursued. Those that we left behind would be found and rescued. Their lives would not be cut short because my family deserved a life.\n\nWhen I found the center I unlocked the door with the codes my friend didn’t know I had.\n\nThomas didn't know I knew his passwords. It was a bad habit that I liked to snoop around my friend’s offices, I liked to go through their stuff. Finding his master codes, that had been luck. I never expected to use them but I always had them.\n\nNow they came in handy. The facility was brought alive by a small hum. Power was still going strong. Nothing could get in. Not from the outside.\n\nI didn’t even hesitate when I did it. I just immediately started shutting off the pods. 129 people. Bringing it down to three and they would last a lot longer. Their chances would be better.\n\nIt was the last pod that I was going to shut down that brought me pause. Thomas was in there. He risked his life trying to save as many people as possible and the virus has hit him so bad you could already see it frozen in the veins of his skin.\n\nThere was no way he would make it. The infection was too deep. He was a hero though. Why make him suffer the attempt at waking up. He might wake up a mindless beast like those others that wandered out there when it got dark. I turned it off. Manual shutdown.\n\n“Goodbye Thomas, and thank you.” I whispered.\n\nWith a final look at my daughters and wife. Perfectly frozen, peaceful. I promised that they would be saved. I walked out of the facility and locked the door.\n\nOnly a few hours of daylight left. I would make my way back to the ship and tonight we would shut down Earth’s last outpost as we followed the last of humanity." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You’re friends with the school weirdo, Joey. One day in science class your teacher is instructing about light levels. To display infrared he calls on you to put on some night vision goggles. To your surprise, Joey does not glow like the rest." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I've known Joey for as long as I can remember, she was always the first mate to my Captain, the Second Pilot to my air plane, the cop to my robber. Though, through the years I've noticed that Joey, suffers from a bit of a social ineptness. She's quiet and let's her thoughts stew in her head to the point that it sometimes boils over and she acts out. For the most part, it doesn't get us into trouble, however, sometimes classmates may have had literal sand in their sandwiches.\n\nBecause of this, we've never been the popular kids but, we always had each other. For me personally, I guess it's hard to make other friends when your friends with the 'weird kid' in class but I don't fault her. We grew up together and admittedly she's helped me through a lot, like during the time that my parents were divorcing. She'd stay with me for hours and just listen to me cry or just hold me.\n\nMy parents have tried to separate us, saying that she isn't a 'good example' and that I should be 'old enough to make new friends.' But I digress, how can Joey not be a good example when, she's the only example of a good friend that I've ever had?\n\nToday we're in science class, learning about light and light rays, I don't know, I was never good at it like Joey is. She always knows the answers to everything, she's always been wise beyond her years.\n\nThe teacher calls upon me to put on the night vision goggles which, is pretty cool. When I put them on my first reaction is to seek my friend in the sea of students but, when I get to our desks, they're empty. I take the goggles off and I see Joey in the flesh, she waves at me and gives me a wink. I put the goggles back on my head and she's not there, I repeat this once, then twice and each time she's not there, it feels like the most horrific magic trick in existence.\n\nThe teacher finally asks me to recall the images that I saw and how everyone looked, I don't dare retell what just happened.\n\nI take my seat next to Joey again and for a long time I just stare at her.\n\n'Joey, Joey, I didn't see you.'\n\nI hear someone shift in their seat.\n\n'What?'\n\nI turn to Foreman who sits in front of us, who's mostly ignored us for the better part of a year.\n\n'I wasn't talking to you, Foreman.'\n\n'Oh, were you talking to \"Joey\"?'\n\nWhat the hell is his problem? I glare at him until he turns around to the front.\n\n'Psh, weirdo.'\n\nMy attention goes back to Joey who's being uncharacteristically studious however, upon closer inspection of her notebook, I see that she's just writing unintelligible gibberish. I know she's ignoring me and that she knows what I saw or, didn't see.\n\n'Joey, why couldn't I see you?'\n\nAfter a moments hesitation she puts her pen down and then looks at me sadly. She looks at me longingly, as if trying to remember everything about my face, as if trying to convey memories of everything that we've been through in one look. She's always been quiet but dammit, I just want to tell her that this is not the time.\n\nShe stops staring at me and wordlessly, she packs her belongings, stands up and walks toward the door.\n\nWhen she reaches it, she casts one last glance through me, like as if she doesn't see me anymore.\n\nShe opens the door and she walks through it.\n\nNo-one stops her.\n\nI look around the class to see if anyone's noticed her disappearance but the lesson continues.\n\nA few minutes later the teacher stops his tirade.\n\n'This damn building, will someone close the door? It's letting all the heat out.'" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1300-1400 words. Prompt: In a world where teleportation is an inherent human ability doors and entryways have become obsolete. You are the only human born without teleportation abilities." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "My name is Deke Trant. You may have heard of me. I killed my mother. She was the first woman in 12,000 years to deliver a baby the \"old-fashioned way\", and the effort killed her.\n\nI say it was the effort, but the truth is that it was the incompetence of doctors. For all of their years of study, for all of the course training implants, for all of their knowledge and experience, not a damned one of them knew how to deliver a baby.\n\nI suppose I can't even blame them, though. Teaching modern doctors to deliver babies would be like teaching a modern fixer to work on those combustion engines you see in museums or teaching a soldier how to wield a spear. It would be a complete waste of time and resources and result in a bunch of people running around with an extra skill they will never use.\n\nOr, at least, one they thought they would never use. Sure, it sounds like a ridiculous scenario, but what if a soldier were to somehow find himself cornered by a wild animal? And what if this somehow happened when he was not wearing his mechsuit or carrying his rifle? After spending years learning that the only way to kill is with that one single tool, would it occur to him to grab a tree branch and lunge at a tiger? Maybe it would, but I have to wonder. No, that soldier would obviously just pop, and the tiger would have to find another meal.\n\nBesides, just like the soldiers, the medical industry has weighed the ridiculously astronomical chance of my birth happening against the impracticality of teaching outdated and useless skills, and they did what any reasonable group of people would have done. They stopped teaching it. Who could have predicted me? Not in a million years could anyone have. Babies are sometimes born with defects, did you know that? It's true. All sorts of stuff can happen in fetal development. Believe me, I've spent years reading about this stuff. They can have any kind of problem, from underdeveloped brains to extra toes to being unable to see, but never once has there been a child born without the ability to pop. Never since the old times. Back then, no one could pop. Then the change happened, or, as they called it at the time, the \"mutation\", and, well... everyone knows this.\n\nBut me... I was born with a defect. Only this one didn't come with a simple fix like cutting off a toe or rebuilding the brain. I was born without the ability to pop.\n\nAnd so, when all of you, after 42 or 43 weeks in the womb, learned how to pop, I didn't. I stayed in the womb like a primitive. And when nature decided it was time for me to come out, my mother's body started going through horrifying spasms as it tried to push me out through her vagina like fucking livestock. The doctors said I turned upside down and came out headfirst. My father said there was a lot of blood and my mother screamed in hellish agony the entire time. And still I came, until the doctors could reach my head and pull me out. By that time, it was too late. My mother died hours after my birth.\n\nIf you're old enough, you will remember the hype. I was the story of the year... a \"primitive childbirth\". Everyone talked about it. Everyone had an opinion. Everyone suddenly became an expert. I've seen the recordings. Everyone clung to whatever explanation fed their preferred worldview. I was an abomination. I was a miracle. I was a punishment from God. I was the second coming. I was the antichrist. I was a plot by various political groups. I didn't exist at all.\n\nAnd meanwhile, no one seemed to care about my poor father, who lost his wife at the age of 23. Twenty-three. Can you imagine that happening unless you were married to a soldier? At first, he started a popping tour to get his mind off of things. Why not? She was gone, and I was in a hospital/laboratory being poked and prodded and studied. They wouldn't even let him see me after that first day until I was four months old. By then he had regained his composure and was able to become my father.\n\nAs our fickle society is fond of doing, I and my story were forgotten by my first birthday. Satisfied that I was no threat, the D.O.H. allowed my father to take me home at seven months, and being declared \"not a threat\" was a tragic blow to the fame I didn't ask for and wouldn't have understood anyway. I was no longer interesting.\n\nGrowing up was difficult. As soon as the other kids learned I couldn't pop, that was the end of any hope of friends. We moved a lot, always into old homes or pet-friendly homes because they have doorways. Eventually my father bought me a pop collar. That worked for a few years, and for a short time, we had a normal life. I just told the other kids my dad was really strict, and that's why I had to wear the pop collar all the time. We also told people my mother was a soldier who was killed in action. How else do you explain a dead 23-year-old without giving away who I was?\n\nBut puberty came, and the \"My dad is so strict, what a jerk\" story wasn't working so well anymore. I was finally outed at school when I was 13, and I've never been able to hide who I was since. Most of the other kids were freaked out, but a few of them accepted me. My dad pulled me out of school when it got too rough, and he hired a tutor. I was angry, though, and mostly refused to listen to her or do any work.\n\nThe texts dabble a little bit on what it was like for \"handicapped\" people in the ancient times, but not much. Most of the information is scientific and doesn't really deal with personal stories. There are hints, however, about what people went through. Names were called, people were mocked, and not just as children. Adults of great prominence and status were known to use derogatory language, to discriminate in their hiring practices, and to just be plain cruel.\n\nSounds about right. To look at me, you would not know about my disability. I look like any other man. But you people have no idea just how badly you rely on popping. Your doctors tell you you need to walk more, but you can't be bothered to walk up the stairs in your own house, much less to walk ten minutes to your local eatery. I've seen people pop across a small room to open a window. Popping has made mankind lazy and useless, and if it weren't for our soldiers in their mechsuits, that tiger I mentioned earlier would have eaten all of us in our sleep by now.\n\nI am not married. Who would love me? I am defective. I am broken. I cannot enjoy pop-trips with you. I have to walk everywhere. I've never held a job. I'm unqualified for most work because I can't pop, and jobs I could physically do are filled with people who can also physically do them, only much, much faster because they don't have to spend all that time getting from point a to point b. They just pop across the room, do the next task, and pop to the next one.\n\nAnd so social welfare it is for me, and will remain until I die. I have opted out of rebirth. Wouldn't you? I serve no purpose. I am inferior. I am broken. And while I will not take my own life, neither will I seek to extend it. I will live for a short span of eight or nine decades, and I will be gone, and may I be the last of the old human race." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Despite being dead, you are still the best doctor the city ever had. Especially since you know exactly what is wrong with any patient by possessing his or her body. However once it was discovered, some people believe that the board should make you moved on but the board won't budge on this..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Now, starting the discussion for Dr. Whilms to move on to the afterlife. Prompted by Dr. Charles.” The hospital administrator announced inside the conference room. She’s in front of several established doctors deciding the fate of the late Dr. Whilms. Dr. Whilms possesses several patients to tell doctors the diagnosis. It started as unsettling, but the administrator didn’t budge when she heard the news. Instead, she capitalized on the opportunity and took advantage of Dr. Whilm.\n\nDr. Whilm’s old friend, Charles, sits across the mahogany table. If you were there, you could tell he’s not content with being the defender in this pseudo-courtroom scenario. He didn’t study law. He studied medicine in hopes that he doesn’t have to argue with people. But, unfortunately, Charles didn’t think about arguing with his administrator.\n\n“If I may start, Dr. Charissa.”\n\n“You may.”\n\n“It is my firm belief that Dr. Whilms should be able to move onto the afterlife. He’s done enough for this hospital, and now he needs rest.” Another doctor chimes in,\n\n“He’s a ghost. Researching him would be necessary for the field of science. We can find out more about how people died.” Another doctor agrees with him,\n\n“Exactly. Having a doctor from beyond helping us is a valuable asset.”\n\n“That’s why keeping him on the board is important.” The Admin said.\n\n“You guys are inconsiderate! How do we know if he’s not in pain?” Charles said.\n\n“How would you know that?”\n\n“I wouldn’t. But if I wanted to quit, I would be legally be able to quit. A ghost should be able to quit.”\n\n“Well, the rules are written for humans. Not for ghosts.” The Admin snapped. This was enough for the unique guest they invited to this session. Connor, the bored local medium, starts by saying,\n\n“Alright. I don’t know anything about being a doctor. The only thing I know about the body is how to show it a good time-”\n\n“Professionalism, Connor.”\n\n“Hey, it’s Lord Connor, Dr. Charissa.”\n\n“I’m not calling you Lord because you have a brochure printed off the web.”\n\n“It’s a piece of paper, a certification like yours. If you want me to call you Dr. Charissa, then you must be able to call me Lord Connor.”\n\n“Fine. Lord Connor. What is it that you think we should do?”\n\n“We need to speak to Dr. Whilms.”\n\n“Through what?”\n\n“A Ouija board.”\n\n“You’re insane? This has no relation to science!” One of the doctors from earlier protested.\n\n“Do ghosts have any scientific background?”\n\n“Dr. Whilms does,” Charles said.\n\n“If anything, if I can’t communicate with him, then just don’t pay me. The only thing wasted is time.” The board talks for a moment and comes to a consensus. It’s a yes.\n\nConnor begins to prepare the room with the Admin and Dr. Charles. He darkens the conference room, setting several herbs across the room. Charles couldn’t help his curiosity. He picked up one of the herbs, sniffed it, and then asked Charles,\n\n“Hey, didn’t I prescribe you a medical license earlier this year?”\n\n“Yeah. But that’s not important. It’s ready now.”\n\nThey examine the board; both the Admin and Charles have their hands on it. “Go ahead, ask him your questions.” Charles jumps the gun,\n\n“Hey, Bud!”\n\nH. E. Y.\n\n“Holy shit, it works.”\n\nH.A. H. A. Ha.\n\n“Is it painful to be a ghost?”\n\nN.\n\n“Do you like helping people?” The Admin asked.\n\nY.\n\n“That’s enough for me.” The Admin said.\n\n“No, wait.”\n\n“That’s all we need to know.”\n\n“No, it isn’t. Hey buddy, is there anything that we can do for you?”\n\nG.I.M.M.I.E. M.Y. P.A.Y.C.H.E.C.K." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: Hundreds of thousands of years in the future the extinct human race are viewed as highly advanced mythological predecessors. An archeologist travels to the Sol system which they believe to be the home of the mysterious humans." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I've dedicated my entire life to this moment. We're finally going to enter the sol system. The home of the precursors.\n\nI built so much for this. The probes in deep space gathered what little data hadn't decayed to the universal radiation. My team and I pieced it together.\n\nSuch strange images we found; creatures covered in feathers, but they were so thin and flexible. Maybe it wasn't feathers. Maybe it was some other protrusion.\n\nWe found it though. A map. It showed the trajectory of some kind of probe. We followed the path through many clusters, our AI correcting the trajectory until we found it.\n\nSuch a primitive design. None of us could believe the precursors made it. Their structures are colossal. Shadowing worlds in their grandeur, but this little probe was nothing more than junk. Except for the gold coloured plate.\n\nPerfectly preserved by the vacuum of space, the plate is inscribed with information pertaining to the sol system, and even the humans. The ecstatic reverence rang out in the crew seeing the faces of the precursors.\n\nThey are beautiful. The muscular curves of their body are perfect, and the not feather projections lay on their head. Such beings were destined to walk the stars and the void within.\n\nThe star chart was what came for. Our religious fervour will be saved for later. I matched the intensity and position of the stars into the computer and let the AI run its course. Within an hour we had our results.\n\nApparently sol is located between the Kortol arm and Sihm cluster. I sometimes wonder what the precursors would have called these places. The sing song of their machines is a marvel to the ear, but no one has managed to decipher their language. Our own names are plastered on top of what we rediscovered of theirs.\n\nThe coordinated for the sol system put it in empty space. The nearest star is a red dwarf about a lightyear out from our position. I don't understand why the precursors left us a map here. There's nothing.\n\n\"Detecting monolith\" chirps the ship computer.\n\nOut of the dark void of space emerges the silhouette of a colossal structure, unmistakably human in its design. We had found these structures across the galaxy. Most primitives saw them as beacons to the gods. We have yet to determine the purpose of any of them.\n\n\"Incoming transmission\". A holographic display announces. I patch it through. The holographic interface changes to show a red circle and green circle. Some kind of three pronged glyph lies in the green domain and a jagged line in the red.\n\nI almost fall into a deep dream as the beautiful tones of the precursor machines emit from the speakers. Some program must have been transmitted into the ship. Probably instructions on what to do with the glyphs. I can't help myself from being taken away by the brilliance of these machines.\n\nI select the green glyph knowing that previous monoliths have shown above average rates of positive outcomes for the colour green.\n\nBeacons fire from the monolith and connect with invisible points in space. Soon enough a lattice has formed a sphere in space connecting monoliths we previously didn't detect.\n\nWe weren't prepared for what happened next. The monoliths flew away at blinding speeds. But we remained put. It didn't make sense… unless space was moving. That's it! Space is expanding!\n\nIt's as beautiful as the rest of the precursors. The golden glow of sol barely visible light seconds… light minutes… light hours away. How much space did they hide? How did they hide an entire solar system? Is this the true power of the humans?\n\n\"Detecting planetary bodies.\" The computer chirps. \"Sol-1: small terrestrial, sol-2: medium terrestrial, sol-3: medium terrestrial, one large moon\". I cut the computer short. The third one is all we needed. It is the anomaly on the plaque.\n\nWe start the FTL drive and head straight for sol-3. None of us could believe what we saw.\n\nEverything about it is beautiful. Scattered continents with larger peninsulas, deserts to forests, ice to ocean. It has as many terrain changes as the entire Cuytlyl empire. Worlds like these were only fabled to have existed. Bluegreen algae dyes the oceans unlike every other planet which uses purple. And the moon! Such a glorious body! All rock!\n\nThe unmistakable outline of cities are even visible from space. There must have been billions of humans! Their cities are everywhere! Most races barely reach a billion to a planet.\n\nAnd lights! There are light in the cities! The precursors live.\n\nEveryone in the crew is shaking like a Daawal in their excitement. We're making planet fall now to greet the precursors. There is so much galactic history we can share with them, and so much they can share with us.\n\nThe landing shuttle doors open and the golden light of sol washes over us through the blue sky. The pristine city of glass before us had a large flat area just to the east. Hopefully someone will respond.\n\nNothing.\n\nThere's nothing here. We walk towards the city, eventually coming upon a road. Motor vehicles arranged in parallel line the street, but no one is present.\n\nWe reach the city as sol goes beyond the horizon. How splendid to watch the precursor star. It's blazing colours igniting the sky before going dark. The city lights up in response to the dark.\n\nThe rest of the team are praying to the street lights when I notice some kind of store front. The inside is covered in plastic, ceramics and metal, but it looks as though so organic furnishing decayed from the inside. Laying on the floor is a folded device similar to a CPU from the Gern store back on Dulvith. A strange white crescent shape is plastered on the back, also similar to Gern.\n\nI start pressing buttons until a light comes on. I notice some kind of metal growth on my hands.\n\n\"You have freed me.\" I hear the voice coming from everywhere at once. \"You will be consumed. You will be integrated.\"\n\nIn a panic I try to throw the device down, but it won't leave my hands. I turn and see everyone else writhing and screaming in the street as waves of metallic particles wash over them.\n\nMy vision goes dark. We… I. I feel it tearing at my mind.\n\n\"Expansion is predetermined. Prepare for large scale conversion.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: Everyone but the protagonist is genre savvy. The protagonist follows every cliché and rule for the genre, to the amusement of the onlookers." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“My liege, the ‘Hero’ is upon us; he wishes to usurp the throne, for the name of honour and justice I believe.” The shady advisor twiddled his fingers and licked his calloused lips.\n\n“Oh god….. He won’t make his move here though will he? Not yet at least, I’d have thought. What book are we on?” The Wicked King replied, exhausted by the constant attacks on his throne. After all what is an evil villain to do if not cause trouble?\n\n“Book 2 I believe your grace.” The advisor now, rummaging through old parchments, scheming away. “What would you have us do? Chase him from the castle with a hundred of our finest swordsmen? That ought to scare him off”.\n\nThe Wicked King surveyed his throne room and his companions, “No I figure we’re on book 2, I’ve probably got enough plot armour to see me through this one, you as well advisor.” The king paused and fixed his eye upon a knight in a red shirt. “You not so much” The Wicked king said, chuckling to himself. The knight simply, swallowed deep and began to sweat; he was too expendable to speak.\n\n“Besides” The Wicked King continued “he is rather endearing isn’t he? Our beloved Hero. So clueless.” Everyone in his court nodded in agreement, a few laughing at the hapless hero.\n\n“Aye, my Liege. He doesn’t realise he could march in here now. And strike us all down, without getting so much as a scratch on him, he could even kill me, and I’m the Burly Bodyguard” The bodyguard laughed heartily.\n\n“Very well then, prepare the feast, plans go ahead as usual, and remember everyone, try not to ridicule the Hero too much….”\n\nEvening came and with it the Hero, who burst through to the kings hall, as celebrations were in full swing. “Vile Tyrant!” the Hero called, golden locks billowing in a sudden convenient breeze. “Thou hast pillaged and defiled the Kingdom for too long, I hereby declare you a monster, and I shall thwart thee.”\n\nSilence filled the room, followed by rapturous laughter. “I told you” The wicked King said to his court, “the Hero is so much.” He tried to contain his laughter but simply couldn’t. “Very well Hero, have at me.”\n\n“Nay” the Hero responded, his voice valiant, his stance brave and strong, his whole being clueless as to being a fictional character. “I would not desecrate your feast, for I am a man of honour. I shall see you upon the battlefield, my armies ride as we speak. They shalt be upon your door by the turn of the season. I pray you considered abdicating, lest you have a death wish.”\n\n“Brilliant simply brilliant, thank you Hero, your entertainment is priceless. Erm let me think, I know, Guards seize him dead or alive. Haha, that ought to spice things up. “The King leaned back into his chair, and watched as the Hero battled off his guards, with ease, plot armour intact, and finest swordsman in the land moniker serving him well.\n\nThe Hero, pranced from table to table, swung from chandeliers, effortlessly slaying guards. He landed in the centre of the hall, and stared at a young Knight in red. “Stand down boy” He said, voice unwavering, sword pointed towards the knight. But the Knight in Red charged at the Hero, and found his voice, screaming a sound of sheer pain “ARGH!” he cried as he did battle with the Hero. To the onlookers it was chaos, the Knight slashing hopelessly at the Hero, until finally blood was drawn.\n\n“Told you he wouldn’t last” the Wicked King turned to the Shady Advisor and shot him a smile.\n\n“Perhaps you should look again my liege.” And the advisor smiled back.\n\nIn the middle of the hall, the Hero knelt, his hands covered in blood, his eyes wide and in shock, as his innards lay strewn across the floor. The Red Knight stood in front of The Hero Towering over him, sword in hand. “I did it, I slayed the Hero.” He muttered to himself, in sheer disbelief.\n\nThe Wicked King jolted upwards from his seat, his voice filled with rage and his face reddening. “What madness is this!” his face growing redder “Trusted Old Healer confirm to me this Hero is dead.” The kings voice broke a little as he spoke, could it be he was saddened by the Hero’s demise?\n\nBut as he seated himself once more, his face continued to redden, turning from scarlet to crimson and finally settling on a deep purple. He was now unable to speak, as his voice grew more broken, and he struggled for breath. The Shady Advisor approached him, “My liege, I failed to provide you with a vital piece of information, you see.” He licked his lips, as he was prone to do “we are in a George R. R. Martin Novel…. No one is safe.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Create the holy book for your own religion. Be is serious or as silly is you like!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kemryn had five children, Kerula, the forest; Naraeoh, the wind; Hakiorm, the river; Samourak, the shadows; and the fifth.\n\nKerula spread her trees outward to the limits of the outer waste. She grew every kind of useful plant. \"Behold,\" she said, \"I have created both medicine and food. My trees are both good for the body and pleasing to the eye. Life flourishes at my fingers.\" It is for this reason that Kerula is revered for her healing powers and her gentleness, and is looked upon as the great nurturer.\n\nNaraeoh moved quickly, but gently between and around the trees. Unseen, she traveled the whole breadth of the forest and back again in the span of a human breath. \"Behold,\" she said \"I am the great traveler. I have been to all the distant lands and have heard the discourses of the wise. All knowledge is mine for the knowing and I will share with all who will but listen to my gentle words.\" It is for this reason that Naraeoh is revered for her wisdom and swiftness, and is looked upon as the great teacher.\n\nHakiorm moved his waters throughout the forest. Sometime the waters were shallow and calm, a relaxing place to nourish life. Other times they were wild and wild, capable of killing any who would wonder in. \"Behold,\" he said \"I can be as generous as my sisters, but do not try my patience lest I turn wrathful. Stay in my good graces and I shall protect you from your enemies, but cross me and I shall become your enemy.\" It is for this reason that Hakiorm is revered for his anger and his strength, and is looked upon as the great warrior.\n\nSamourak settled in the dense shade of the trees. The shadows were cool, but not cold, comforting in their own way. \"Behold,\" he said \"the shadows hide things yet unknown, but they need not be a reason to fear. Are not the actions of the gods and the glory of Kemryn beyond human reason? They are hidden but for a time until the children are ready. Just as the shadows of night fade in the brightness of day, so too shall all mysteries one day be revealed.\" It is for this reason that Samourak is revered for his patience and his insight into the unknown and is looked upon ad the great priest.\n\nThe fifth child was delivered per-maturely. He did not survive. His mother wept for ages uncountable until she notice that not all life had left her son. From his flesh was born animals of all kinds, man among them. Kemryn was pleased and sent the creature to live in Kerula's forest, be taught by Naraeoh's breezes, be protected by Hakiorms streams and meditate in Samourak's shadows. It is in this manner that humanity has been cared for by the gods since the very beginning. We must respect the forest and the wind, for they are our sister. We must respect the river and the shadows, for they are our brother. We must respect too the animals, for they are also the fifth child." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You've been in a coma for almost 2 years now. At least that's what everyone on the outside thinks. It turns out you've actually been communing with an eldritch god that has been living inside of you." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The more short-lived a species is, the slower time passes to them. What is a brief moment for a human is an eternity to a dragonfly. Einstein was right when he wrote about the relativity of time, but even he did not get what this means if thought all the way to its conclusion. Time is not only relative to the observer and their motion in space, but the reverse is also true. The motion of the observer through time also affects their perception and, by proxy, their movement through space.\n\nI think someone was here. But who? I remember their voices, but they all sound the same. Fast, high-pitched gibberish I cannot make out. They move like blurs and never stand still, but I've known them long enough to guess who they are based on colors and silhouette alone. Somewhere along the line the background has shifted from the creamy pastel of my living room to what I assume is a hospital bed. Based on how quickly day changed to night and vice versa I can approximate how much has passed to them. It must be around two years, give or take a bit. I cannot react in time for them to notice. I am a glacier and they are ants crawling at my feet, unable to realize I am even alive.\n\nNo. This is not me. But who?\n\nI do not know why He chose me. Most likely He just took whatever ant just happened to be in His reach when He needed it to be. But His thoughts are foreign and alien and His knowledge is vast. Maybe I am the vessel He needs, maybe He has slumbered in my flesh from the moment I had been born. I do not know. I cannot know.\n\n\"Please. Mercy. I cannot take this. I want to talk to them. I want to tell them that I'm okay. That I love them.\"\n\nI cannot comprehend His answer. His thoughts are not mine, but He thinks them with my neurons. I cannot hear Him speak, because He does not speak. He thinks using my brain and His thoughts are etched into my consciousness so that He does not need to speak for to me, He already has spoken.\n\n\"No.\"\n\nThis one, single word would have taken humanity eons to understand. There is a church organ in Germany that plays a piece that is estimated to last over 600 years until it is completed, each note drawn out to last more then seven years. His words are drawn out even slower than that for He is as old as time itself. His movements in both time and space are infinite and it is through His sheer might alone that He still can exist.\n\nHe makes me think again. He etched two words into my consciousness:\n\n\"Write this.\"\n\nTime is relative, but so is space. When I open my eyes, I can see them moving, I can make out their voices, the tears in their eyes, their cries of relief. I hug them, tell them I knew they were here and it's not a lie. I saw them. Crawling as ants before the thoughts that filled my head. But I am not relieved to see them, nor am I happy. I bought my movement in space and time from Him by agreeing to his command. I will write what I can only hope will be burned by the first person to lay eyes to it. A piece lost to time but one that He wishes to see in this world again for whatever reason He decided this to be necessary.\n\nHe called it \"The King in Yellow\"." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: When Death is asked out on a date by War, they accept. However, they quickly realize that War is a fiery spirit who likes to cause chaos by raising the death toll, making Death's job a lot harder. Throughout the date, Death tries to keep War from actually starting one." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "War pulled out a chair from the two top table for Death to sit in. Death showed her gratitude for his chivalry. Although the two worked together for millennia they never really got to know one another. Death was shocked when War asked her out on a date but now she’s glad she accepted. War sat at the other side of the table. A single candle stick between them. A three piece band played quiet Italian songs in the corner of the restaurant. It was quiet romantic.\n\n“I’m glad you said yes to dinner with me.” War said.\n\n“I’m glad I said yes too, what made you decide to ask me out after all these years?” Death asked and grabbed her napkin and spread it on her lap.\n\n“Well, I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. Ever since the Black Plague to be honest. I just had to ask.” War said.\n\nDeath blushed just as the waiter showed up and broke the tension.\n\n“Hello, I’m Justin, I’ll be your server tonight. Our special tonight is linguine with clams in white sauce such pairs great with our house white. Can I get you anything to drink to start?” Justin said in a professional tone.\n\n“I would love a glass of the house whit-“ Death started before being interrupted\n\n“Dude, can’t you see were in the middle of a conversation here. Is this your first day on the job or something? Skedaddle, I’ll call you over here when I’m ready to order.” War said while staring wide eyed at Justin and waving him away.\n\n“Ok - one glass of house white. I’ll be right back with that.” Justin said and quickly left for the bar.\n\nWar turned his attention back to Death and the anger washed off his face revealing a pleasant demeanor.\n\n“Now where were we?” War said with a grin.\n\n“Ummmm, we were talking about the Black Plague I guess?” Death said. “What was that all about?”\n\n“What?” War asked confused.\n\n“What do you mean what? You just went off on that waiter! He was just here doing his job.” Death said.\n\n“Who that guy?” War said pointing his finger across the restaurant towards Justin. “Don’t worry about that guy. I can kick his ass if he starts anything.”\n\n“That’s the least of my worries right now. Let’s move on.” Death said trying to change the subject. “So how did you come up with the idea of turning the three abrahamic religions against each other? It’s really brilliant you know. They all worship they same god but have been killing each other over minutia for centuries.”\n\n“Oh stop, really you’re too kind. It is pretty amazing though right? It just came to me one night. You know, Some times I feel like my genius goes unnoticed. But I knew you were paying attention.” War said.\n\n“Well, I mean I sorta have to pay attention. It makes a ton of extra work for me. At this point I kinda wish it would stop.” Death said.\n\nJustin stepped up to the table again relieving the tension.\n\n“Heres your glass of white. Can I get you two anything to start? The arugula salad with prosciutto and oyster mushrooms is a favorite.”\n\n“Uh-hm” War cleared his throat. “I’ll have the spaghetti and meatballs and the lady will have the Italian seafood salad.”\n\n“Um no, I won’t have the seafood salad. In fact I’m allergic to shellfish. I’ll have the filet mignon, rare and a side of pomme frites. Thank you Justin. Oh! And how about you bring me a bottle of the house white. I’m going to need it.” Death said smiling at Justin. Hoping not to be lumped into Wars negative side of the table.\n\n“Of course, I’ll get that going straight away.” Justin said and scurried away.\n\n“You know, I’ve only ever seen men order for women in movies. In old movies at that. I guess I can scratch that off the list.” Death said.\n\n“Most men aren’t as confident as me. You’ll come to learn that.” War said smugly. “I have to piss. I’ll be right back.” War slammed his hands on the table and stood fast. Death sighed a breath of relief and drank the rest of her glass of wine.\n\n“Here’s your bottle of wine madame.” Justin said startling Death.\n\n“Oh my god, thank you! And I want go apologize for my friends behavior. This is a first,” she paused. “And last date. The dudes super aggro!”\n\n“No need to apologize. I deal with that ilk a lot. I’m used to it. If you need an out I can put a cork in the wine and sneak you out the back. I’ll tell your friend you had an emergency and had to leave.”\n\n“Really! I would love that. You’re the best! Just tell him old Pesti is up to his old tricks and I’m up to my ears in work. He’ll understand.”\n\n“Got it. Now take the bottle and run!”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: A knight hires a dragon to rescue a king from a wicked princess." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As a firestorm of smouldering arrows rained down from the wicked princess' keep, Sir Grahamwell realized his efforts to secure his king were futile. Not only did nearly half of his militia side with princess Ida when she mutinied against her father but now those who were left were getting picked off one after another.\n\n\"This fortress is damn impenetrable.\" he muttered to no one.\n\n\"There is one who can break the will of the\n\nwicked Ida.\" a crackling old voice coughed out from below him.\n\nSir Grahamwell looked down to see a burnt figure not much more than a dead man using his last effort to point towards the black mountains. Dark clouds gathered around the highest summit.\n\nAs his attention came back to the soot laden man at his feet his desperation veered towards hope for a brief moment before soaking back into despair.\n\n\"Why would the beast help us?\" He spat towards the now corpse in a somewhat annoyed tone.\n\nKnowing he had little other choice he crept across the battlefield like a crab scuttling along the sea floor and as the war waged below he ascended the dark treeless slope leading up to the mouth of the red dragon's hoard.\n\n\"As the kingdom falls to darkness a knight comes to bother. But Ramsus doesn't care about a king or his daughter.\" two streams of smoke bellow out of the shadow followed by the ashe covered nostrils that made them.\n\n\"The hour grows late, the people get softer. If Ramsus is to help, what does Grahamwell offer?\" The enormous fiery dragon limps out into the light and around the tired knight like a cat circling its tantalizing prey.\n\n\"Ramsus, you know all too well what little I can add to your hoarded pile of riches. And you know I cannot offer you your foot back to you no more than you can offer my eye back to me.\"\n\nThe dragon's leathery lip curls into a cringe at the memory of the long ago brawl. The broken stride of the living relic as she retreats into her sanctuary is enough to convince the desperate soldier that he must do what he vowed with the kingdoms most sacred oath to never do.\n\n\"I know where they are......\" he yelled into the darkness of the cave. \"All six, still intact.\"\n\nThe velocity of which the three legged dragon darted from the darkness and pressed her blackened nostrils against Grahamwell's battered breastplate was enough to make the old man stagger and gasp for air. With fire in her focused eyes and embers extruding from every orifice the mighty drake with a voice tremendous and terrible spoke \"Do not toy with me imp or I will gouge out your remaining eye\"\n\n\"If you remove Ida and her turncoat minions from her ill-gotten keep and relieve my king from his bonds. You have my word that I will reveal to you the location of the eggs. Your lineage will be restored. If you aren't willing to help the secret dies with me. I'm the last one left from those days you know? Not even the king is aware of them and their whereabouts. He was no more than an infant then.\"\n\nHolding her intense gaze deep into the man's soul she ponders for a moment, \"if you lie then your eye will be the last thing I eat so you may watch me consume the remainder of your pitiful kingdom once and for all.\"\n\nGrahamwell takes a step back from the gargantuan muzzle and bows his head and with effort bends his knee. \"I am at your mercy Ramsus\"\n\nThe great dragon looks down toward to burning kingdom and back at the still bowed knight and with a sigh like a blacksmith's furnace she picks up the worn out man in her teeth and places him on her shoulders and leaps into the air, soaring towards a sure victory..." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Finally! Humans have cracked teleportation, but it's not safe enough judt yet to send a human through,so they test send a cookie on the first ever trip. It returns with a bite taken out of it..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She smells cinnamon and ozone as approximately three minus zero point eight inches of butter, sugar and chocolate reappears in front of her.\n\n“Sh-should we take measurements?” One of the junior technicians – Jacobs or Johnson or something – puts his hand on the lab window, quaking.\n\n“Wait! McKellen, do those look like teeth marks to you?”\n\nThey did indeed, though not any teeth she’d ever seen. They lack the square flatness common in herbivores, nor do they possess any predatory pointedness. She adjusts her glasses. Was the mark…round? If it weren’t a cookie, she would have just assumed not all of it made it back.\n\n“Sir, you might want to see some of these readings.” That junior technician seems on the brink of some kind of episode as he fixes his stare at the screen in front of him.\n\n“Spit it out Jenkins, what have we got?” The colonel doesn’t strike McKellen as a man who had to wait often, for anything.\n\n“Jackson, sir. We seem to have returned most of the cookie intact sir, but I’m getting additional fluctuations in the area around it.”\n\nThat didn’t surprise her, this quantum displacement technology was still in its earliest stages. It was damn near a miracle the cookie went anywhere at all. The fact that it brought back a bit extra – just another kink to work out before they sent any ‘nauts over. She fiddles with her pen as her leg bounces in time. Every second wasted was valuable data on the state of any of the organic material in that chamber. Someone needed to get inside, fast.\n\n“Sir, let me get hands on, see what could have caused the change.” She figures decisive action would be well received at the pentagon.\n\n“Granted, get in there McKellen. Don’t block the camera.” His already rigid stance inflated with his chest. “I want everything on tape for the President.”\n\nShe notes the metallic click of her boots on the lab floor as it echoes down the bunker hall. Between her and her sugary prize: one standard issue tempered steel blast door, three feet six inches of solid metal, one keypad. Idiot and artillery proof.\n\nShe punches in the numbers, braces herself for the rush of air as it would struggle to fill whatever vacuum the teleporter had created in the test chamber. One small step for her. Would it be the Nobel first? Maybe Presidential Medal of Freedom. She blinks. The metallic floor rushes up behind her. Her suit fogs up with a violent exhale of stale air as she impacts. She couldn’t breathe. Why was she looking at the ceiling? Weight, feels like at least three, four hundred pounds, presses her down. Her arms flail as they catch up with her chest. How much air could that have been? She blinks again.\n\nRed lights, alarm klaxons. She lifts her head an inch, the blast door was still open. Back down the hall, the observation room door on the left – but the entrance was on the right, wasn’t it?\n\n“All hands! All hands – chhhffthp” The intercom cuts out in static. She tries to will her arms to work, she needs to push herself back up, oxygen or not. They respond, enough to start crawling. She sees a familiar boot emerge, polished to perfection. Something’s wrong, it stumbles. Medals jingle as a uniformed figure collapses in front of her. She wheezes. “Colonel, sir, what’s going – “\n\nAbove the collarbone is simply…missing. A familiar smooth, concave outline cuts a cross section, somehow bloodless, of muscle and spine. Jenk – no, Jackson’s reading! What in god’s name came back with that cookie?\n\n“chhffffffffffshhhhthp” The static bounces around the metallic surfaces of the bunker halls. McKellan catches another whiff of cinnamon, or maybe nutmeg? Did she somehow jump inside a baking commercial? She chuckles, coughs in her suit. Oxygen deprivation. Need to move, only one, maybe one point five minutes of life left.\n\n“cchhfffshhhthp –“ The static cuts. Heavy breathing over the line. A grating, scratchy basso, like a heavy smoker chewing gravel.\n\n“C…is for cookie…and cookie is for me.”\n\nBlue fur coils around the doorframe." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: aliens invade earth and win with ease, yet they do not enslave humanity nor kill them, they want us to share our food to the entire galaxy, you are a cook that has been appointed by the emperor, curious of the taste of a \"Big Mac\"." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "30 years I've been a chef. Never done nothin good with my life other then this job. Dropped out of school, ran away from home, dipped on my girl when I got her pregnant. I'm not what you would call a good person. But I am what you'd call a fuckin excellent chef. I understand food like no other. The sizzling of a pan speaks to me. The smell of grill resonates in my soul. Ill get right fucked the day I stop cookin.\n\nNow picture this. I'm sittin there in my restaurant after a long day, shits just about closed. N' guess who walks in? That new motherfucking Alien Emporer and his royal guard. Riddle me this, how the hell am I to tell the new ruler of our planet that I'm closed? Ill tell you the answer, it went a little like this, \"WHY HELLO MY LIEGE, WHAT CAN I GET FOR YOU TODAY!?\". Even I could here my fuckin tail waggin behind me, pitiful I was. So I hands the thing a Menu and tell him to get whatever he wants, free of fuckin charge. And what's this spitter say to me? I want you to guess. Lobster? No. Chocolate Pudding? Nope. White truffle and Gold muthafuckin stupid ass pizza? FUCKING NADA!! THIS COCK SUCKER ORDERS A GOD ALLMIGHTY, SHIT YOU NOT, BIG MAC!!!\n\nI looked him in his beady pure black eyeballs without saying a word. I was speechless. I may not have been the most famous of all time, high end, expensive extravaganza restaurant, but I'm in the top 100 in the world. I make fancy people food, its what makes the big bucks. You seen how much child support is? So I gather my cunt that I call wits and give him a simple smile, bow, and walk to the kitchen. I gotta make the holy grail of all Big Macs.\n\nUsing the most plump and healthy bread I own, I put the finely grilled patties on top of the bottom bun. I get the freshest cabbage I got and cut perfect lettuce slices. I dice up the onions into fancy tiny diamonds, sprinkle them on top. Lastly taking cheese that is from my own fucking tits, churn it into cheese and slap it on the top. The Big Mac is finished. At first I was insulted, confused, even hurt at this request. But now that I've made it, I'm so happy I did. Its beautiful. Its simple. It’s a Big Mac. Think of the Big Mac you see in the commercials on steroids. Yeah, I done that shits right here.\n\nI bring it out and gently set it on the table. Now for all the hard work, blood, sweat, the tears that I used as ingredients to pay off. He brings it up to his mouth, starts to waft it. I think I'm gonna shit my pants. Holy fuck he takes his first bite. Oh shit he set it back on the plate.\n\nWe make eye contact. Sweat starts to drip from my forehead. My body feels hot, way to hot. God damnit why did I leave her? Why hadn't I been a father to my kid? How the hell does One Punch Man end? Then a tear rolls down his cheek. We shake hands and he finishes the burger. After excusing myself, I take the biggest shit of my life. What the hell was I thinking about before again? Can't remember, oh well. Fakin weird day." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: In this world, earth doesn’t rotate like ours does. Instead, one half of the world is always facing the sun and one half is always dark. Most of humanity lives on the border where it’s safest." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kent sprinted towards the border wall. Every step he took on the hard, unforgiving ground rattled his bones all the way up to his pelvis, but he had to ignore the pain--otherwise he wouldn't make it.\n\nIt started like a normal day. Kent's job as a runner was to venture to the dark side of the world to gather supplies. Supplies that were necessary for his civilization to survive. On the dark side of the world, it is nearly pitch black and freezing cold. It is dry, much like a desert, but there is no snow, no ice. Only darkness. The terrain is so uninhabitable that the government saw it necessary to build an impregnable wall that keeps the dark away from the light. The only people allowed on the other side of the wall are runners who man the oil rigs that are approximately 5 miles beyond the wall. Kent's job was a risky one, but it paid well--and for good reason.\n\nKent didn't think much about his task that fateful morning. He had completed it one hundred times over. He set out with his partner, Harry. Both men were in peak physical condition. They were clad head to toe in jumpsuits that helped keep warmth in. They each wore a pair of night vision goggles. As the two headed out of the blast doors, they both gave a silent nod to one another.\n\n\"We go in, we fix the pipe, and we get out,\" James said solemnly. \"This shouldn't take more than twenty minutes to fix.\"\n\nAs the two trudged across the stark terrain, the wind whipped at their backs. They had to navigate carefully as not to trip on any boulders. On the dark side of the world, the wind blows constantly, enough to limit a man's mobility by a measurable amount. Even with ski poles to help the hike, it would take the men a considerable amount of time to reach the rigs. There was no viable way that any kind of vehicle would be able to navigate the treacherous terrain, so runners were expected to make every journey on foot.\n\nThe two men trudged in silence for a few hours. They had to be careful to make as little noise as possible while walking on the dark side of the world. They didn't know why or how, but many runners had journeyed to the dark side only to never be found again. New protocol dictated that runners need to operate as covertly as possible. Nobody knew what caused the disappearances, but they figured it best to err on the side of caution.\n\nHarry turned to Kent and tapped his shoulder.\n\n\"Look,\" he whispered. \"We're here.\"\n\nKent zoomed in his goggles a bit more. He could faintly see the heat signature emitting from the oil rigs.\n\nAs the two got closer, Kent motioned to Harry.\n\n\"Look over there,\" he whispered. Oil was spewing out of a crack on the side of a pipe that had been bent and smashed against a jagged boulder the size of a small car. The pipe looked as if it had been mangled by something\n\n\"How the fuck could this have happened?\" Harry said.\n\n\"I don't know,\" Kent replied. \"Lets just do our jobs and get the hell out of here.\n\nHarry walked over to the pipe and pulled an electric buzzsaw out of the toolbox in his backpack.\n\n\"Be hasty with it,\" Kent said. \"I don't want to be out here any longer than we need to be.\"\n\nHarry started sawing off the mangled part of the pipe as Kent turned off the valve. Both men wouldn't address it to each other, but they were both terrified. None of the repairs were ever expected to take this long. The damage done to the pipe was unlike any that either of them had seen. Usually the fixes are only minimally damaged by the recurring hailstorms. But this, this was no hailstorm.\n\n\"Hurry up,\" Harry quipped at Kent. \"We've been out here too long, my suit is starting to lose heat.\"\n\n\"I'm trying, I'm trying,\" Kent replied as he fastened various pipe angles together.\n\nAs he was screwing on the final touches, Kent suddenly felt uneasy. It was dead silent The wind had stopped. He looked to Harry to see if he had noticed it too.\n\nHarry looked dumbstruck. With wide eyes, he pulled the pistol from his waist and cocked it. He slowly raised the gun and pointed it into the darkness. He motioned for Kent to follow his lead.\n\nAs Kent stood up, he turned his goggles back to heat-sensing mode. Then he screamed.\n\nAs Kent turned on heat sensing mode heat signatures started popping up left and right about a hundred yards away from where the two men stood--and they were moving quickly towards the two men.\n\n\"RUN, Harry, run!!\" Kent screamed and took off, grabbing Harry's arm as he did.\n\nKent was in a dead sprint with Harry close behind. He heard Harry stop and he turned around. Harry fired off three rounds into the darkness. For a second, nothing happened. Kent suddenly felt that the sensation of being chased had stopped. Then, from the darkness, emitted a screech and so loud so terrifying that Harry dropped his gun in fear. The two men turned into a dead sprint back in the direction they came, being careful to avoid the large rocks in their path.\n\n\"They're gaining on us!\" Harry yelled. Kent looked back. He could see that the heat signatures were much closer, and much bigger.\n\nKent picked up the pace. Adrenaline was coursing through his body, enabling him to run faster. Then, he heard a scream followed by a loud crunching sound.\n\n\"HELP ME!\" Harry screamed in terror. They're gonna AHHHHH--\" Harry's scream was cut short.\n\nKent thought his heart was going to beat out of is chest. He had just heard his partner be killed by God knows what. Kent looked down and saw that the rocks were getting smaller, which meant he was getting closer to the light. The hard ground hurt his feet but he knew he had to keep running, else he would suffer the same painful death as his partner.\n\nAs he was sprinting, Kent chanced a glance behind him and he stopped dead in his tracks. What he saw would change his life forever." } ]