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BintangFortuna

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Bintang Fortuna 2

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: A cosmic being known as \"The Judge\" examines a civilization's history and poses a fitting test before granting space travel. The galactic council is stunned as for the first time, it is helping these 'humans' instead of hindering." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It is helping them.\n\nOne doesn't have to ask who ''it'' is. Everyone knows. Everyone has heard. Everyone has seen it. A being from beyond time and space, a creature unbound by conventions, the laws of physics, something that isn't a person, but a cosmic fact with a will of its own. The Judge. It has eaten gods, it has burned worlds, it has destroyed empires. It tests the mettle of all who manage to leave their home system by artificial means. It is a gruelling test, never the same, always different. The Judge examines every world's history, their cultures, their natures, and forces them to be true to themselves to complete the test. Those who succeed, who overcome their flaws and show their better natures, are allowed to continue to develop. To create an interstellar empire of their own. Those who fail are sent back on the evolutionary scale, their nations dismantled, their world reforged, allowing another race to rise on their homeworld, that might one day ascend and be tested instead. Most succeed. Rare indeed is the world that fails.\n\nThere is no bargaining, there is no threatening, no intimidating, no wealth, no ruin, nothing satisfies the Judge except the completion of its test. It is beyond the scopes of our understanding. Of any race known to the general galactic community. The Interstellar High Council, and the associated archives going back millions of years, have records of every race and their encounters with the Judge. Every success, every test, every failure. Everyone who has managed to contact it. Everyone who has been annihilated for insulting it with the petty ambitions of mortal races. Everyone who has been de-evolved for daring to do something so foul and debased as worshipping the Judge. It's all in there. But this has never happened in recorded memory. This has never been seen before. And all of the known areas of the universe, in our galaxy and the others whom we can only speak to, as intergalactic travel hasn't been successful yet; every powerful individual, important organisation, nation-state, empire, and religion, is asking themselves a simple question; How?\n\nHow did they get the single most eldritch creature, a thing that is simultaneously measured as being merely the size of an average sentient lifeform, and the size of a small galaxy, to help them? How did a fractured, disorganised, uncooperative planet of little cretins with no central government, get the single most powerful and dangerous entity in creation to help them? To come to their world, guiding them, teaching them, helping them see the best path to rebuilding their dying world, and then getting it put into action? Usually it hinders and stalls development, until the arbitrary demands it has put on the tested species have been fulfilled. Of course, asking it directly is impossible. Unless it is supremely important to speak with it, one should never dare to contact it. As it does not suffer unimportant fools making demands of it. Only in the rarest of circumstances should it ever be acknowledged at all.\n\nAnd yet many look upon these humans, on their little world of dirt and grime. They wonder, why does the Judge care for them? Why should anyone care for them at all? Who would care at all for that little race, when they could be conquered instead, and put under the solid iron boot of a strong central government? Why should anyone care for them, when they are not of the same flesh as stronger, more powerful empires? They are flawed, silly things. And the Judge still helps them. Still teaches them, still cares for their world like a mother for her child. They are not united in glorious purpose. They do not desire conquest and dominion. They are capable of cruelty, but it is a childish form of cruelty done for reasons that are personal at best. They do not churn countless millions into the dust for sake of efficiency; they do it because they don't know any better. They don't understand how a proper, strong government, should rule.\n\nPerhaps that is why the Judge care for them in such a manner, the empires around that insignificant world would like nothing better than to subdue it, to conquer it, for blood, glory, and strength.\n\nThat is the great weakness, of all the nations of the universe. Mankind, on their little world, with their little flaws, and little mistakes, have not succumbed to autocracy and tyranny. Not entirely. There are cabals, tyrants, greedy rich fools, and other scum who keep trying to force mankind to become a singular, uniform race. Yet despite all those who desire for mankind to become obedient soldiers and workers slaving and dying for the ruling class; there are still those who fight back. There are still those who believe in decency, in working together because it is right, not merely because there is an enemy. Humanity is a free species. Humanity, despite all the cruel, corrupt, and malignant menaces that they have to deal with, still marches discordantly and sometimes with a good couple of steps in entirely the wrong direction, towards freedom, decency, and progress.\n\nThat is what the Judge has seen. Alone amidst all the nations of the cosmos, only mankind is so chaotic and self-destructive as to retain an attempt at freedom and liberty. The Judge, alien and strange, eldritch and bizarre, sat itself in human flesh upon the human world, in an attempt to understand mankind. It failed utterly and completely. But it learned things it never could have dreamed of. Compassion, art, revelry, actual love, friendship. These things can be found on many worlds, but they are always subsumed into a worship of the state, a desire for obedience, and a lack of personal dignity. The Judge found that only on Earth is there the option of standing against the current. Only on Earth, where mankind have committed several mistakes and atrocities, is there hope for a future, and those willing to fight the mainstream, the faith, and the state to get a future worth living in. The Judge only stayed human for a single lifetime, but it experienced more unabated joy, more sorrow, more love, more silliness, more confusion, and more curiosity than it had experienced since the universe began." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You are a prisoner on death row. On the day of your euthanization Satan appears in your cell to offer you any wish, in return for your soul of course. Knowing what typically happens to souls sold to the devil, you instead make him an offer he can't refuse." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bonhoeffer got up from the cot in his drab cell and walked over to the barred window. Moonlight softly illuminated his face as he cast his long shadow behind him.\n\nThe plot to assassinate Hitler was a brash one. Bonhoeffer knew that. The plan had failed, the group had disbanded, and he was imprisoned in a concentration camp. Still, he regretted very little. His writing consoled him and gave him purpose. This last book would ensure his legacy.\n\n\"Foolish consolations,\" a voice rasped out from behind him\n\nBonhoeffer started and turned. \"Hello?\"\n\nIn the cell, Bonhoeffer could see very little.\n\n\"I have an offer for you,\" said the humored voice.\n\nBonhoeffer choked. He started to think he was hallucinating. \"What is it?\" he stuttered.\n\n\"Is this all you've got?\" he mocked. \"You start a brazen revolution, a bold plot, only to have it blotted by pure power and politics..\"\n\n\"I did as I believed my God commanded,\" said Bonhoeffer.\n\n\"And where has that gotten you?\" the Voice questioned.\n\nBonhoeffer said nothing.\n\n\"Let me make an offer,\" it cajoled.\n\nA moment's pause.\n\n\"Hitler. For your soul.\"\n\n\"Ha,\" Bonhoeffer weakly laughed. \"My soul belongs to God alone. My hope is in Him.\"\n\nHe waited a few moments, but the Voice did not respond. After a while, he went back to his cot, and slept restlessly.\n\nThe next day, however, he felt its presence, looming dark and deep within the confines of his thoughts. He felt tormented, deeply insecure, and troubled. He spent every free moment in prayer.\n\nThat evening he returned to his window. With clarity and confidence he said, \"I am ready to make a deal.\" This time, his eyes were dead set on the empty and dark space of the cell.\n\n\"Yes,\" the voice replied. \"Very good. Come to me.\"\n\n\"Oh, you won't be taking my soul\" said Bonhoeffer. \"But you will have my life.\"\n\n\"Do not try to fool me,\" it growled. \"You are already to die. I--\"\n\n\"Understand,\" he interrupted, \"that if I die now I can do no more good if I give you my work.\" He hesitated, then took the envelope in his hands and flung the contents into the room. \"Here. Imagine how many souls will not be saved because this work was never read.\"\n\n\"You will tarnish your life, your legacy, for revenge?\" the voice said savoringly.\n\nBonhoeffer sighed deeply, and turned his gaze to the ground. A few moments passed.\n\n\"Yes,\" he finally said.\n\n\"Then Hitler will die.\"\n\nAnd never did Bonhoeffer hear that Voice, nor see his final work, after those moments.\n\nWeeks later, he knew the time had come. God had given him visions of his grisly execution. That he would be hanged; that guards would push his neck from the noose again and again before he became unconscious, and extend his execution for several, agonizing minutes.\n\nYet ever did he trust his God. He knew that his written legacy was not the most important part of him to outlive that day. No; what he had now was a story of a faithful martyr. \"This,\" he thought to himself, \"will save many more souls than any book.\"\n\nSo it was that the day of his execution came, and the guards took him away. Before he was led to his doom, however, he turned to those with him in that sunlight room.\n\n\"This is the end,\" he said. \"For me, the beginning of new life.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: To your surprise, a SWAT team breaks down your door, rushes inside, and surrounds you. Only, their backs are to you, guns trained on the doors and windows. The closest one whispers, \"Here they come.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Black clad and armed, the team of men that had suddenly intruded on what was otherwise a quiet meal for one remained silent, awaiting further instruction from their captain. Red dots paced slowly across closed blinds and the back door which led to the kitchen where Dave was sat.\n\nHe had barely any time to chew what cheap noodles he had just shoveled into his mouth before this congregation of bullet proof vests and submachine guns had burst into his home. Their heavy footsteps had become little more than a tiptoe once they had securely entered Dave's property.\n\n\"Excu-\" Dave began before he was cut short by the SWAT member who had took position behind him, placing a gloved hand over his mouth. The man leaned in to whisper.\n\n\"Sir, I strongly advise you get under the table and await further instruction.\" He whispered, slowly taking his hand away from Dave's mouth.\n\nWith blind compliance, Dave proceeded to push his chair back and get on his knees to crawl under the table in front of him, a cheap dining table which had never been used for cover before, suprisingly.\n\nThe timing of the officer's instruction couldn't have been better as Dave's quiet Sunday dinner faced further interruption. His windows burst and his blinds danced wildly as they were riddled with identical holes from the gunfire outside. Shattered glass and splintered wood from the window frames began to litter Dave's kitchen floor, and that wasn't all.\n\nThe team of men in his home had little time to react, and within the first few seconds of chaos, Dave was joined on his floor by two of the officers, one of which was unfortunate enough to catch a bullet in the visor of his helmet, leaving a bullet hole where his left eye used to be, which was now vacant and filling his helmet with blood. The second appeared to have better luck as he was on the floor next to Dave clutching at his left arm, his mask obscuring a pained look on his face.\n\nThe rest of the team had immediately returned fire, with more uniform precision than the attackers who had simply redecorated Dave's kitchen with a series of burst fire. The identical intruders took up tactical positions around the kitchen, taking trained shots of their automatic weapons through the clearings in the torn blinds. The gunfire echoed throughout the kitchen, and Dave couldn't even form an opinion of the situation over the deafening and deadly exchange.\n\nThree members of the team remained as the shots ceased. A suspicious silence crept over the scene, and the man who Dave assumed to be captain made a series of hand gestures, the final of which was directed to the hall which led into the rear garden of his home. An officer approached the back of the kitchen wall which made the corner of the hallway leading to the back, reconfirming his grip on his rifle before he breached the corner.\n\nHis actions were cut short as one of the previously unseen assailants was waiting for the opportunity the SWAT team had kindly provided. The attacker closed the gap between him and the officer, sinking a large knife in his throat, right under the jawline. The officer fired in a panic, reinstating the previous soundtrack of violence that had only recently receded. The captain who gave the order raised his rifle and wasted no time in taking a single shot. The bullet entered above the assailants right eye and left a neat crimson hole, which left a trail of blood falling onto his brow. Dave, still under his kitchen table, observed that the exit wound must have been much larger judging by the poor Jackson Pollock imitation that had decorated his hall.\n\nThe officer who had tried to turn corner stumbled back into the kitchen, he had dropped his rifle to place both hands around his throat, and the heavy flow of blood made itself apparent by seeping through his fingers. The gurgling that had replaced his ability to speak ceased itself once he hit the kitchen floor, and the blood escaping from his throat pooled on the kitchen floor, its edges racing towards Dave, forcing him to scramble back into the door of one of his cupboards.\n\nThe captain and his remaining subordinate seemed surprisingly serene about the turn of events, and after a few moments of this sombre silence, a message, incoherent to Dave, blared from the radio positioned on the captain's left shoulder.\n\n\"Witness is secure, over.\" The captain returned, and walked over to a rather shaken Dave.\n\n\"Witness?\" Dave feebly asked, not even nearly prepared to understand the situation he had been forced into.\n\nAfter a while, another uniformed officer, not of the original five, entered the kitchen where the captain had now sat Dave back at his table. He looked intently at the bewildered resident before pulling his mask down, revealing a similarly confused expression. Turning to his captain, he explained his shock.\n\n\"Sir, that's not the witness.\" He explained, beads of sweat gathering on his brow.\n\n\"Well then who the fuck is it?!\" The captain roared, taking a step towards his officer, gripping his ballistics vest. The officers reply was short and timid.\n\n\"Sir... that's Dave.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: A \"Moral Guardian\" tries the thing they are against and is immediately hooked." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He used to hit me so much.\n\nI'd never even had a drink, and he beat cracked ribs, bruised kidneys and loose teeth into me. To make sure I never became what he was.\n\nOnce when he was sober he told me he he drank because of how he grew up. He said it like he wanted me to empathise with him, to forgive him. Like he couldn't see that my arm was broken from him protecting me from drink the week before. Like he couldn't see himself standing over me crying blood and snot and tears, jeering. Like he couldn't remember what was so bad about how he grew up, couldn't remember why he needed it to let him sleep at night, to stop waking up screaming in the night, to stop pissing himself when he had a bad dream.\n\nHe made me sick, my dad. My breath catches sometimes, and one of my wrists never set right, leaving me half crippled in that hand. I have eleven false teeth. At twenty three, all this.\n\nI didn't go to his funeral, I celebrated it though. I didn't take a drink though, I could never do that. I cry myself to sleep most nights, I can't help myself screaming if someone comes up to me suddenly. Lately I've noticed a lot of blood coming up when I cough. I won't let him beat me though, I won't give him this little victory.\n\nWhen my son was born it was the happiest day of my life. For the first time in my life, someone wanted and needed me. His mother left soon after that, saying she didn't want to be trapped in a lifestyle she didn't choose (after carrying a child for 9 months, she leaves it in 3 weeks. Never in those 9 months did she \"not choose\" that lifestyle).\n\nHonestly, after she left it all got too much for me. I left my son with my mother for the night, and went and had a drink. It was perfect. It was the best I've felt in my whole life. For a few hours, I wasn't scared or self-loathing or on edge. Just calm and ok, I could deal with everything a little better. I think I'll probably have a few more now, just to keep the buzz going. Sobriety now scares me even more, now that I know that there's such an easy alternative, which is so much better.\n\nWhen I picked my son up in the morning mom looked at me funny, but I blew her off. I was in a bit of a rush, I'd heard good things about whisky, and was eager to try it.\n\nBut don't worry, I won't let my son grow up like I did, I'll make sure he knows alcohol is evil. I won't expose him to that pain, to that fear. I'll make sure he hates me for as long as possible as much as possible. He'll associate alcohol with me, and I'm bad, so he'll break the cycle. I'm not strong enough, but he will be. I know he'll be strong enough. I'll make him calloused enough outside, and cold and hard enough inside. He'll be able to beat it. Like I can't." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: One day, many Hollywood actors are mysteriously \"possessed\" by their most famous characters. A desperate agent runs around town trying to save his star from their own acting." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Oh, dear, I really hope this passes quickly. It's one thing to have Johnny Galecki and Jim Parsons trying to argue over string theory. I can almost see how that's beneficial, although I can't imagine Caltech is too thrilled. (Nor is Kaley Cuoco, but that's the least of my problems right now.) Charlie Day and Glenn Howerton are making weekend plans and mentioning implications, which sounds like a bad thing but honestly I've been too busy to catch up on the shows.\n\nAnd Kevin Spacey... let's just say we've set up security around Gwyneth Paltrow's house, which is amusing because she wants to meet Shakespeare. Well, amusing for you halfway across the country -- here in LA it's a headache as bad as traffic on the 405.\n\nBut the biggest problem is my client, Robert Pattinson. Why, oh why, couldn't he have at least been the Batman? Did it have to be this one? Now I have to chase him down in a high school parking lot, where he's, ahem, \"observing\" a bunch of the students. Oh, thank heaven he hasn't bitten anyone. Yet.\n\nRobert! Rob... crap, I forgot. Edward! What do you think you're doing?\n\nNo, I'm certain she's not there! C'mon, you gotta get out of here!\n\nLook, Officer Glov-- I mean Murtaugh, I am trying to help defuse the situation, I promise. Yeah, we're all a little old to put up with this, I know. Relax -- I know the guy. I can handle this. Yeah, tell your partner over there he's not helping.\n\nWait... do I have the other agent's number. I should... here it is!\n\nSal! Yeah, it's Jimmy. Yeah, we need your help over at East Hills High. Well, you know Kristin, right? If I'm right, she can help fix this. You'll probably find her at home -- if I'm right, she's living a boring average life right now. Trust me, she's just what we need.\n\nNo! No biting!\n\nAw geez, I know he doesn't recognize me when he's like this. I can only hope to stall him until Kristin gets here. At least I'm not the only person having this kind of trouble. I hear Adam Sandler's agent is desperately trying to keep him from starting a fight on the golf course today.\n\nOh, thank heavens, she's here. Sal... Sal! Is she... yes, great! She have red contacts? Good. This oughta work then. Right this way, Miss Swan.\n\nIt worked. Oh, thank God it worked. Just look at them walk off, arm-in-arm. Even the worst of love stories can save the day. Hopefully this'll all be over tomorrow and we can go back to a normal life. But there's going to be a lot of explaining to do to everyone. How do you tell your star client that, for the last 24 hours, they were under some identity crisis spell that made them go into full-fledged acting mode? Maybe the news will help.\n\nBut for now, I guess I can go home and rest. The worst is over. Uh oh... who's calling me now...\n\nJimmy here. Frank, what's your crisis? Yeah, just got through one myself. Jared Leto? He's doing what? Yeah, I'd like to send Rob, but he's someone else right now. Have you tried Christian Bale?" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1200-1300 words. Prompt: you invited a cute homeless girl to crash on your couch on the rainy nights. Tonight she wants to show you some gratitude." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She has been sleeping in the entrance way to my apartment building for over a month. She is maybe five foot four, with black hair that is colored bright pink on the under layers. A round face that makes me think she is innocent. A few piercings - nose, ears and eyebrows. A well worn leather jacket that is too big for her - probably a second hand store buy. Ripped jeans and a vintage Metallica t-shirt with runners so old they have no threads left.\n\nI walked past her with a deliberate blind eye for a while - but there was something about her - I found I wanted to engage, wanted to talk, wanted to understand her.\n\nIn the mornings I started giving her a sandwich in a ziplock bag on my way to work. A few bucks when I got home from work. On cool nights I would bring her a hot chocolate or a tea.\n\nShe was stand offish - but I bet that comes with living on the street.\n\nA few weeks ago it was pouring rain. Not the usual cats and dogs - no - that nasty horizontal rain that only comes with epic winds. She was huddled in the corner - sheltering as best as she could. Shivering and drenched.\n\nI opened the security door and paused - looking at this open misery.\n\n“Come on,” I said. “Come crash on my couch. This rain will be the death of you.” She was hesitant but she came with me.\n\n“Stay here. I will get you a towel and some dry clothes,” I said as we entered my apartment. By time I got a towel and a few odds and ends that might fit her she was standing in a puddle with chattering teeth.\n\n“Why don’t you dry off and change in here?” I said showing her to the bathroom.\n\nA few minutes later she came out. Her hair was frizzy and messy - her pink layers clearly showing. My t-shirt was down to her mid thighs and the sweat pants were huge on her. It was adorable.\n\n“Toss your stuff in the drier,” I said pointing to the laundry room.\n\nWhen she came back she sat at the eating bar and gave me a tight little smile.\n\n“Thanks,” she whispered.\n\n“Hungry?” Her eyes lit up. “How about we order some pizza? What’s your favourite?”\n\n“Hawaiian,” she said with a smile.\n\n“Pineapple on pizza? My God! What kind of crazy person did I invite into my house?” She chuckled. I ordered a small pepperoni and a large Hawaiian.\n\nShe ate like a line backer. I could not believe how much pizza she packed away. Piece after piece just kept disappearing into this tiny girl.\n\nWe watched some tv. Then I made a nest for her on the couch. Blankets. Pillows. I even found an old teddy bear.\n\n“Goodnight”\n\n“Goodnight,” she whispered.\n\nWhen I got up in the morning she was gone. The blankets were folded neatly. The pillows stacked. The clothes I had lent her folded on top.\n\nWhen I left the building that morning she was back in her spot.\n\n“Surprised you were gone so early,” I said to her with a smile.\n\n“It was too soft,” she said with a shrug. “Thank-you. It has been forever since I had pizza… and a pillow.”\n\nI chatted with her more and more. I would bring her Hawaiian pizza sometimes. I learned that her name was Willow. She had been on the streets since she was fifteen. She wouldn’t say why. I tried not to press her on it.\n\nThe snow fell early that year. Late October. Wasn’t even Halloween yet. She was covered in half an inch of snow when I got home from work.\n\nI held the door open. “Come on in, Willow. You can’t sleep in the snow.” She looked up at me with big puppy dog eyes - shivering in the cold. I held out a hand and helped her up.\n\nShe couldn’t stop chattering. Her fingers were blue. I just shook my head at the horror of it.\n\n“Go take a hot shower. It will warm you up faster than anything else. I will find you some fresh clothes.” She just nodded and headed to the bathroom.\n\nI ordered in some pho soup and noodles.\n\nWe ate in near silence. I couldn’t get over how quiet she was. She would only answer in one or two words - she never volunteered anything.\n\nThat night she slept on the floor by the couch. She was still sleeping when I left for work.\n\nWhen I got home she was back in her corner shivering.\n\n“Willow,” I said disapprovingly, “what are you doing?” I held the door open and my hand out. She smiled - took my hand - and came up to my apartment.\n\nI tried to cook us some supper. Hamburger helper and garlic bread. It was nasty but it was hot. She ate it up.\n\n“You can stay as long as you want,” I said as we did dishes. I found that I really meant it. I liked having her around. “Sleeping in the snow will be the death of you. You can stay here - if you want.”\n\nShe smiled and blushed.\n\nThat night I came home and she had cooked supper. Broiled chicken with Caesar salad and cubed potatoes. It was amazing.\n\nAnd that was how life went. She slept on the floor by the couch. Cooked supper. We watched TV. We went to movies. I took her to her first theatre production.\n\nShe opened up. She talked. She laughed. She was an absolute delight to have around.\n\nThat spring the snow melted fast. The streets were rivers of muck and slush for about two weeks - then it was all dry.\n\nWillow had gotten quiet over the last couple days of spring melt. She stared out the windows morosely. I asked her about what was bothering her but she never said anything.\n\nOne night, after the streets were dry, she walked into my room after I had gone to bed. She stood there - in stark shadows from the kitchen lights - she slowly pulled off her t-shirt. She dropped her sweat pants.\n\nThe bright light of the kitchen cast her in lights and shadows like a chiaroscuro style painting. One side of her face was brightly lit and the other in shadow. The light illuminated her perky breasts - her nipples casting shadows. The curve of her hip - outlined in the light. She was stunning.\n\nShe crawled into bed beside me.\n\n“What are you doing?” I asked her.\n\n“The snow has melted,” she said sadly, “and… I want to stay.” She kissed me. “I don’t have anything else to offer,” she said sadly as she pressed her body into mine.\n\n“Oh you silly girl,” I wrapped my arms around her. I pulled her into a spooning position. “You can stay. You can stay for as long as you like - doesn’t matter what the weather is. Stay forever. Stay with me - please.”\n\nI felt her melt into my arms. Like the tension of spring had just released. I pulled her closer. We fell asleep - warm and content - wrapped in each other’s arms." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: In a fantasy world where levels and even evolutions are granted by killing strong opponents you were born as one of the weakest monsters. Then one day a powerful adventurer trips and falls on your weapon." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I had never hoped for success. I was a \"mob\", after all. Just trash in the way of the powerful. Just an introduction to combat. I had managed, barely, to survive until now (Cowardice is underrated) . That is, until the lv. 99, shining, plate-armor-covered man appeared in front of me, probably seeking to blow off some steam by killing some easy prey. I fully expected to die.\n\nUntil he fricking tripped over a fricking rock, falling with his neck, the only part of his body not covered by that impenetrable armor, on my miser dagger. This could not be happening. Was it some kind of trick? Some twisted deity trying to deceive me for easy laughs? It seemed so.\n\nIt was not. Alas, when the light faded out of the brute's eyes, I felt it. Evolution. I, a mere skeleton given consciousness by the All-Reaper, was evolving!\n\nThe bones that constituted my form grew, dark flesh covering them. After the flesh, a black, metal-like substance hardened my grey skin, encasing me in armor. My meagre dagger turned to ashes, from which rose a glaive of the same substance as the armor, a dark-blue mist slowly rising from the blade like vapor, covering its surface. A cape of darkness descended from my shoulders, covering my armor.\n\nI could feel things I had never felt before. I now know how it feels to have flesh covering the bones, to have lips, or a tongue, vocal cords, internal organs. A brain ready to learn and expand. Eyes not made of magic. A beating heart. A face.\n\nI never had any of those. I was one of the skeletons not taken from the ground but created by sorcery, magical particles coalescing into bone, who coalesced into a human form. I had no name, no life before my creation. I was never buried, and I was never alive.\n\nUntil now. I approached the lake I \"guarded\" (I was often too busy hiding behind some rock in the dark cave to properly do my job) deep below the earth, the only source of clear water in a very wide area, and looked at it like it was a mirror. I could see it. My reflexion. My long hair, black as the magic that birthed me. My pale complexion. My eyes unlike any human ones, black were they should be white and grey where they should be green, blue, brown or red. My muscular frame covered by dark metal, covered by dark cloth. I was quite like the man I had just killed.\n\nI looked into the reflexion of my eyes, into what some humans mistakenly call the \"heart\", what I know is called the Abyss. And an abyss it was. It was a fitting name for my \"heart\". And it would be a fitting name for me.\n\nI buried the adventurer the proper way, knowing how to do so because my brain was created with knowledge of the world within, knowledge about things I had never seen but whose secrets I now knew. I buried him like I never was. He would rise to the lair of his gods, taking his seat in the table of the Deity of War, like all fallen warriors. His immortal soul would forever feast and sing his glories, unburdened by his humiliating demise, for all death in battle is glorious to these men and women, and knowing his mortal body would be forever safe in its tomb, deep below the ground.\n\nI walked to an exit I now knew existed, worrying solely about what delicacy would have the honor of debuting my palate. And I remembered currency was not one of the things evolution granted. And so disappointment was the first emotion to be shown in my face." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: A group of men in suits gather for a meeting. It takes place in a secured location with elaborate proceedures to prevent eavesdropping. What do they discuss?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The compound had military grade security. Spotlights combed the sky. Infrared sensors tracked every warm blooded creature. Dogs ran alongside armed guards on ATVs. Everyone was on high alert.\n\nA park bench sat in the main atrium. The building itself was cleared out of all personnel, save three.\n\nTwo were waiting on the bench. Mr. Avery donned a sleek navy blue suit, white shirt, no tie. He didn't believe in the them. Mr. Douglas was somewhat unkempt. His suit was a little tacky, but still displayed authority. He was a bow tie man and didn't care what anyone thought about that.\n\nThe Chairman approached, pinstripe suit with a pink tie. His game day suit. Mr. Thomas follow behind, grey suit, same pink tie. He had been trying to impress.\n\n\"It will be decided tonight, gentleman\" said the Chairman as he directed all to take a seat. He remained standing.\n\n\"You know our options\" he said.\n\nMr. Avery shifted in his seat. A set of manila folders sat in front of him.\n\n\"Operation Crocodile,\" he slide a folder off the top. \"Operation Wipeout\" he slide another. \"And Operation Jailbait\" he tapped the final folder.\n\n\"The research has been completed thoroughly\" he asked the table.\n\n\"Yes, sir\" replied Mr. Thomas.\n\n\"Good. Convince me\" the Chairman said as he leaned on the table.\n\n\"Well, it must me Crocodile. The people are expecting it.\" said Mr. Douglas. \"Hell, they're demanding it.\"\n\n\"Typical\" said Mr. Avery. \"The people aren't always right. In fact, they hardly ever are.\"\n\nHe turned to the Chairman.\n\n\"Sir, Jailbait presents the ideal scenario\" he said. \"Not only will they never know what hit them. They will beg for more.\"\n\n\"Don't be ridiculous!\" Mr. Douglas was irate. \"Jailbait is the worst decision we could make.\"\n\nThe Chairman rubbed his brow. Mr. Thomas saw this as his chance.\n\n\"You two are equally divided\" he said. \"Why don't we choose Wipeout? It will have nearly the same outcome as Crocodile along with just a smidgen Jailbait.\"\n\n\"We aren't doing Wipeout\" said the Chairman.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Mr. Avery. \"Jailbait will knock them on their asses. Guaranteed.\"\n\n\"That may be the case,\" replied the Chairman. \"But this is a very risky time to be going against popular opinion.\"\n\nThe Chairman put his head down to think. Mr. Avery looked at the smugness of Mr. Douglas. He knew it was lost.\n\nMr. Thomas watched the Chairman. He had failed again, but he was still in good spirits.\n\nThe Chairman took a breath and said \"Crocodile it is.\"\n\nMr. Douglas slapped the table with glee.\n\n\"You made the right choice, sir\" he said. \"A purple M&M is what the world needs right now.\"\n\nThey rose from the table and began to make their way to the exit. The Chairman walked beside Mr. Avery.\n\n\"I don't think the people would have understood a gray M&M, Mr. Avery\" he said. \"It's just too out of the box.\"\n\nFeeling Mr. Thomas still lurking behind him, he turned his head.\n\n\"And pink M&Ms are for Easter.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: The leader of an failed rebellion is about to be executed by their own men, from the perspective of one of the executioners." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I remember the day brilliantly, though wish to remember with less clarity. It was a cold, winter's day. People were drearily walking down the destroyed streets of our fallen city. It was all we had left and those bastards who were supposed to protect us and help us wiped it off the map. Though, we should have seen it coming. All he wanted to do was help us, to protect us, to aid us in anyway possible, but that went against what our leaders thought.\n\nWe were all being walked down the street that day, in full view of the masses we fought to save. To them we were heroes, but our \"protectors\" wanted to make an example out of us. So, our leader, who went by the name Legion, was obviously to be put to death. Though, when you looked at him that day, in his eyes you could still see the defiance and hope he had. It was inspiring. Fear hadn't gotten to him, he had left that behind when he took up his mantle.\n\nAs for me, his second-in-command? Well, I was to be spared, which was generous of them. But, I would have to execute Legion myself. They hoped it would bring me to my knees, destroy my resolve, and make me a villain to the people, someone they couldn't trust. Someone who couldn't lead them in another rebellion. And if I didn't? They'd kill me? No, they'd kill my family. So... I had to do it.\n\nWhen we came to the gallows, their general brought me up to the wooden platform first and handed me a black cowl and an ax. I remembered his insulting words, \"Take these and keep them, you'll need someway to hide after this.\" His mocking laughter still echoes in my mind from that day.\n\nThen, Legion was brought to the platform. His crimes were read off to the masses who had gathered to see their beloved leader one last time. Finally, he was forced to his knees and his neck laid bare across a wooden block. The general gave me the go-ahead.\n\nLegion looked at me. The same determination and hope I told you about earlier was still there. He spoke, brave and proud to only me. \"Live. Promise me you'll live so that one day these people may actually see freedom.\"\n\nTears stung my eyes and I knew I had to do it. Slowly I rose the ax over my head, the tension of the crowd rose with it. Some turned their heads away, some fell to the ground and cried, but most just looked on, helpless and afraid. I closed my eyes and swung the ax down. I can still hear it hitting the wooden block and crunching the bone of our lost leader. It was... Mortifying.\n\nI opened my eyes, his head rolled down and his blood mixed in with the rain. His life was now joining the city he so dutifully protected. He now served as something else, a beacon in these otherwise dark times and a chant over the silence our leaders wished we kept.\n\nMy fist found its way to my chest and my heels clacked together. Many members of the crowd followed suit. Then, at the same time we all recited our creed. \"The fighting will not end, till the flag of freedom ascends.\"\n\nAnd the fight did not end. It still hasn't to this day and it won't. Not until the people's flag of freedom ascends.\n\nLong live the Legion." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1300-1400 words. Prompt: There was actually a very powerful force user who was working behind the scenes in the events described in Return of the Jedi. He is solely responsible for victory. He is also an extremely clumsy, sarcastic asshole." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This is my first time doing a writing prompt, so any formatting help or critiques would be appreciated.\n\n\"The Tragical History of Tendar Sen.\"\n\nFor the first few years of his life, Tendar Sen was told he was special. His earliest memory was of a man in a brown robe explaining to his mother the importance of Tendar's gifts, and that something called the Force would guide him to great things. And like a jerk, he had believed it. All the decades between then, and his present tenure overseeing a supply ship to an orbital battle station, had been anything but.\n\nHis loss of faith in himself had started shortly before his selection as a padawan learner. The Jedi masters in charge of the younglings in the academy thought little of his ability. He was allowed to continue through his early education only due to the intervention of the small green Master whose name Tendar couldn't remember. He only remembered that he was kind to him, and that he had told off the other masters by reminding them how undisciplined each of them had been in their youth. But despite this, Tendar was still bitter. Bitter at the loss of his parents, bitter at his inability wield a lightsaber with any grace, bitter at his inability to clear his mind for even the briefest of moments. That bitterness led to an anger unbecoming of the illustrious Jedi Order (or so he had been told). But it was that anger that led to the discovery of the one power he could harness.\n\nWhile training with the practice sabers that could only sting instead of maim, Tendar was receiving a thorough beating as usual. While dueling in pairs, twenty or so younglings at a time were practicing that most iconic of Jedi arts, and Tendar was the only one that spent most of the time on his back. And when the Jedi Weaponmaster scalded him for fighting with an unclear mind, Tendar, his mind filling with rage, used his lightsaber to launch a flurry of attacks at the master while his attention was turned, and brought him to the floor. After the commotion had settled, and the Weaponmaster had collected himself, he whisked Tendar away to the depths of the massive Jedi Archive, and brought him before a Twi'Lek master the youth had never met, or even heard of. Tendar remembered being surprised to hear that it was not himself that brought down the lightsaber teacher (although he shouldn't have been, as he was terrible with one), but rather the entirety of the class, while Tendar was still on the floor. Most surprising was the mood of the Weaponmaster after what should have been an utter embarrassment. Instead, he had been amazed to finally discover why the boy was kept on as long as he had.\n\nThat was the last time he felt sure about himself in his life, about who he was meant to be. That was, until he saw the battle station he was meant to bring supplies to. It was near a backwater moon, around a backwater planet, in a backwater part of the galaxy, when he saw the monstrosity the Rebellion referred to as the Death Star, and the Empire refused to refer to at all. His shipping company did not usually take imperial work, but he had led his crew into so many money losing blunders working for the Hutts that he needed the money to survive. But when he saw the sea of Star Destroyers surrounding the moon sized station, he realized three things: that the bantha poodoo was about to hit the fan on this whole rebellion thing, and that he needed to get his crew, ingrates that they were, out of harms way; that he knew which side of this war he sided on; and that he finally knew what the Jedi meant when they said the Force would do great things through him some day.\n\nThe Jedi that told him this was most definitely not the Jedi he only begrudgingly called his Master. The old Twi’lek librarian had be cold (even for a Jedi, if you could imagine it), emotionally abusive (like any good caretaker placed in charge of a troubled youth), and barely spoke a word of Basic (the empathic language learning skills most Jedi learned early was yet another of his failings). None of that mattered, as the old Librarian had been the only living master available to teach him of the ancient technique known as Battle Meditation. An excedingly few had learned it in his generation, and the Clone War had been raging at the time, so the few alive were engaging in the conflict as high ranking field commanders. They used this technique to rally troops morale, to bolster there discipline, and through the Force, unite even a vast army as a single unit, But as Tendar remembered his protocol droid translating for his Master, “You are no general.” So for a brief time, his life consisted of a cold faced alien saying gibberish at him, and a droid translating their informative yet disheartening meaning. He grew to hate the Librarian (and the droid as well, even though he didn’t deserve it, he was just doing his job), and that hate would lead to him leaving the Order. His pride in himself (and his ability to control and unite the clone volunteers that would be his practice dummies) would only lead to more chastisement from the Librarian, who claimed he should not take pride in a power which was given to him without the discipline to use it properly.\n\nThis sounded ludicrous at the time, but finally made sense as the Rebel forces showed up to begin their assault above Endor. How would he aid a fleet of star fighters and battle cruisers if he could barely get a platoon of Clone Troopers to march in a straight line so many years ago? And it was in his moment of doubt that he realized what he must do. After securing the safe return of his crew to space behind the front lines of the war, he used his small shuttle to position himself close to the Death Star, at the center of the Imperial Fleet he had just decided was his enemy. And there, at the center of the battle, he reached out with the Force, and touched the mind of every Imperial pilot and navigator he could sense. It was the Librarian who gave him the idea, all those years ago, when he told Tendar that he was causing so much damage to morale and group unity that he was undoing all of their clone conditioning, so thoroughly had his unclear mind invaded theirs.\n\nAnd so, during the last great battle of the Rebellion against the Galactic Empire, Tendar Sen sowed confusion and disorder among the greatest fighting force assembled in recent history. As TIE Fighter squadrons broke formation, and panicked navigators crashed Star Destroyers into the flagships of the Empire, the failed Padawan reflected on his situation. He thought not about his horrible children that no longer spoke to him, or his nerf-herding wife that hated him (or about the TIE Fighter pilot he just caused to slip up and crash while chasing a Rebel ship to the reactor core of the Death Star). Instead he thought about that little green Jedi Master who had been so kind to him, who had most likely died in the Purge that he narrowly escaped. As the Death Star came to its final moments, and with it the Empire, Tendar remembered the advice that was given him in the alien's strange, halting way of speaking.\n\n“Seek not greatness. Only for themselves, will those who seek greatness act. Remembered not, are they, for the goodness of their deeds. Greatness comes to those who see opportunity, and only of others, do they think. Only for others, do they act. That is what a great Jedi makes.”\n\nAnd so with his second to last thought, did Tendar Sen realize he had finally completed his training as a Jedi, and would die like all those Masters he had scorned, defending others. Unfortunately, his last thought was how much he hated that droid." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: After 20 years and 2 kids you finally wake from the love spell your “partner” put on you. One of your kids accidentally destroyed the item that made it work. In 20 min your “spouse” is coming home. You finally have your free will again but still remember everything that happened." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was like something quit. An essential part of my being left in a single moment. I felt wrong.\n\nI couldn’t identify what it was.\n\nI went into the living room and my 18 year old daughter was cleaning up a vase my husband had gotten me 20 years ago. Just before he proposed.\n\nI think about him, and the thoughts I normally have aren’t there. Its unfamiliar and I don’t like it. My thoughts of him feel empty, it’s an odd moment for me.\n\nI help her clean it up, she apologizes over and over but I’m not upset. We got twenty years out of that thing, it had to have costed like 15 dollars tops. She leaves for classes leaving me with my thoughts.\n\nI still can’t pinpoint what is missing. I decide to text my husband and let him know that the vase was broken. He responds oddly and says he’s on his way. That’s strange, he’s at work and it’s not like him to leave for something so trivial.\n\nI work a little around the house, I write some on a novel I’ve been working on. My head feels clearer, I get more done than usual. My husband walks through the door looking a little frazzled. I love that man, but my heart doesn’t jump like it used too, my thoughts aren’t going their normal direction.\n\nUsually I feel an overwhelming sense of joy, love, and I think about how great he is and how much he loves me. Now I’m not. It’s different, but not unpleasant.\n\n“How are you feeling honey?” He asks.\n\n“I’m fine dear, I don’t know why you came home over that vase. It’s older than our daughter.” I hug and kiss him, but it’s not as electrifying as I remember.\n\n“Yea. I’m not really worried about it. I’m worried about you.” He seems uneasy.\n\nI know him well enough to know he’s hiding something. “What’s the matter dear. Just tell me what’s going on, we will get through it together. Like always.”\n\nI lead him to the living room and sit down with him on the couch. I know he will tell me what’s going on. That’s just who he is.\n\n“Honey, I had a love spell put on that vase.” He says this and is clearly ashamed.\n\n“Really? You did that to me? I don’t understand why. I already loved you.” I don’t know how to process this. I loved that man so much it hurt.\n\n“I was afraid, that once you got to know me and got comfortable in our life you would get bored. Or I would fail and lose you. I didn’t want to lose you. I wanted you to love me like we had a new relationship for our lifetime together.” He clearly feels bad.\n\n“Don’t worry. I still love you. But babe, love isn’t always about those butterflies and that new relationship electricity. True love is work. Working together for the future, for each other. Being part of someone else’s life so that they know you are always on their side. I love you, even if I don’t feel like we did 20 years ago.” I lean into him. Feeling a bit betrayed but knowing that I will forgive him.\n\n“I’m sorry I did that to you. I love you truly.” He wrapped his arms around me and I feel at home.\n\n“You’re forgiven. Now get back to work.” I kiss him and send him on his way.\n\nAs he backs out of the drive, I go to our bedroom and grab the knife I gave him on his birthday 22 years ago. I put it away in the back of the closet knowing he won’t find it there.\n\nI can’t have him thinking about old gifts.\n\nHe doesn’t remember, but he didn’t love me until I gave him that knife." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Several millenia ago, human society in the Sol system sent a ship with humans in stasis to a far flung star system to set up a colony. When they arrived, they discovered that they had lost communication with Earth. You are aboard the ship that was sent back to Sol to find out what happened." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Captain Arcadian let out a loud sigh, checking himself meticulously in the mirror and straightening his navy-blue dress uniform. He'd look ridiculous, he'd decided. Something from antiquity back to amuse the people of earth who must be light-years ahead of them now technologically wise. Still, he had to practice his bloody speech, be ready to smile for the cameras, and present their token gifts of crops and art.\n\nThis whole trip was more for Hyperion than the people they'd left behind. Everyone was curious, of course. If they, in the space of a thousand years, could develop Faster Than Light travel rather than the crude propulsion drives that had seeded the colony, why hadn't Earth and why hadn't they visited?\n\nEmbarrassment, probably. I mean, they'd frozen his ancestors then shipped them off into the eternal night and probably discovered the secret within a decade. What do you do? I mean, you can't just set pop in and say, 'oh, er, sorry, thanks for sacrificing everything, but you actually didn't need to...'\n\nHe was so lost in his thoughts he didn't hear his cabin door being open. When Ella called to him he damn near jumped out of his skin.\n\n'Uh, sorry Captain' she apologized quickly, 'we've exited hyper-space, sir. We... we uh need you on deck immidiately' she told him in a worrying tone.\n\nArcadian rolled his eyes. 'If it's a greeting party or an escort or some nonsense, tell them I need at least-'\n\nElla shook her head rapidly. 'No, sir, nothing like that' she answered cryptically, I really think you should come to the bridge'.\n\nHe was tired of her hedging. 'For Christ sake Lieutenant, get it out' he prompted irritably, lowering his prompt cards.\n\n'Well that's just it, sir, there's nothing out there'.\n\n++\n\nArcadian entered his bridge full of a dull hum of alarm. His ensigns were chattering with one another urgently and his senior staff shot him worried looks. Ella led him to the centre console which was displaying a holo of the star-sytem. The Sol system to be exact.\n\n'I don't understand' he muttered, 'are you sure we're in the right place?'\n\nElla looked embarrased but shook her head again. 'First thing we checked, sir. We've checked out alignment with the star-field and this is it, even accounting for drift, we should have been passing the moon right now'.\n\nArcadian cursed, feeling alarm bubble up, typing in commands to the console and deploying every sensor, drone and scope they had but the answer was always the same. The system that should have had eight planets plus Pluto only had seven, and there was no sign of the moon. He ran every possibility through his head but it just didn't make sense. In the end he commanded their ship to make a full burn to where Earth should have been.\n\n'Sensory - give me a full spectrum scan with everything you've got' he commanded once they were in place. The bridge fell silent.\n\n'Maybe it's shielded... hidden?' Ella suggested.\n\nArcadian gave a hopeful look to his coms-officer but only got a sullen shake of the head.\n\n'I'm sorry sir' was his answer, 'Nothing. Just dust and echoes'" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: A couple gets married with a majority of the people attending being the bride's ex-boyfriends." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This was the most nerve wracking event I've ever been to, and it has to be my wedding day. There are fifteen guys out there who are judging me: I'm tall but chubby, I'm handsome but less wealthy, and I'm educated but not classically. The judgment filled my dressing room like porn star's career, just over and over thinking of the judgement. My dad also came, which was great because he was checking her out when she came to my sisters for the holidays. This is not good for my morale, but if I can get through this I can marry this woman that everyone is after and I do love her.\n\nI fought Jeremy when she introduced us and drank with him at a bar, he was talking about her like an object and I actually liked her but was intoxicated. He is here because he is a family friend. Ted was just some architect she met in New York, I didn't know much other than he has great hair and he helped her dad make a library section in his firm. The other guy with him is Barney, he just looks like trouble. Cole, the track star from college who happens to be married to one of her bridesmaids which she had to say, \"He's a friend now and we are over it.\" Ray, the son of her dad's partner at his law firm, who is a total arrogant asshole. I can see why she liked him, because he knows what he wants, and he is here to actually just be a figure of taunting. There is also, I'm just going to run through the list: Freddy, Wallace, Danny, Trevor, Greg, Masaki, LaMarcus, Ross, and Jorge. Oh my god, I'm going to have a panic attack.\n\nAfter a profuse amount of sweating, I stood on the pinnacle of our relationship. I am not even religious, but respect her enough for the symbolism. Almost all of her exs wore some sort of light green, like my bowtie. Fuckers. Her song came on, and she looked amazing in that dress. She waves at me, I could feel the sweat and the immediate need to piss. We stood up in front of everyone for around an hour, and I held my urge like a champ. (Sort of, in the video you can see my right leg doing Michael Jackson kicks once in a while.) In the car, we talked some.\n\n\"Babe, I've never been so happy.\" She laid her head on my shoulder. I still felt insecure, and what in reality held me there was my friend Robert. He locked the door and made Jack stand outside my second story window.\n\n\"I am totally in love with you too my love. But, did all of your exes have to be there?\" I could feel her grasp loosen on my hand, \"I don't mean to be a kill joy, but I've never been so nervous. I felt like the Prom Queen just married the Science Geek.\"\n\n\"Your being silly,\" She grabs my face and kisses my lips, \"You have qualities that are perfect for me, but also I trust you more than anyone I know.\"\n\nWe arrive at our reception, and Ted and Barney were being wedding crashers but I didn't mind. I walk over to them at the hors d'oeuvres and snacks. Ted was face deep in spinach dip, and Barney was sipping on a whiskey.\n\n\"Fellas, good to see you again. How did you like the ceremony?\" I look at the food and grab something to chew on.\n\n\"Elegant and tasteful. You got a good one, Luther was it?\" Ted looked half attentive, his focus on the chip and dip.\n\n\"I'd still take a run at that, look at her.\" Barney was staring again.\n\n\"I'm not going to be cuckholded on my wedding day, I will come at you.\" I grab the nearest drink.\n\n\"Yeah, Barney. Don't be a jackass.\" Ted looked at me and smirked, \"Besides, she turned you down all the times she was with me. Your not going to have anything now.\" I stop mid sip of my drink.\n\n\"Say what now?\" I look at them both, \"I though Barney was one of the fifteen?\"\n\n\"Hell to the no bro, I would have been the fifteenth, sixteenth, seventh, eighteenth, nineteenth, and one hundredth. Ya know what I'm saying...?\" Barney was smiling and about to take another drink, \"Oh, but no offense.\"\n\nI look at her again, god she looks beautiful, \"Hey son, damn. You are a lucky dog, she always looks good in anything. Bed sheets too.\"\n\nI just stare at my dad in horror." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: A wizard's cloak changes color depending on the type (or types) of magic they're proficient in. You've seen lots of different hues and combinations, but you've never seen pure white before." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Davi looked across the classroom full of her peers, noticing the subtle changes in everyone’s cloaks. She had begun her second semester at the New World School of Magic, and she was eager to hone her skills in the art of magic. Not the illusory magic that you see on television, the real magic. Magic that would have sentenced someone to death in decades past. The world had changed a lot since that time however.\n\nAt the New World School of Magic, each pupil was issued a white cloak at the beginning of their semester. The cloak itself would change in color as the student became more proficient in the corresponding magic; students who studied closely in earth magic would see their cloak turn yellow. A dark red cloak meant a student had mastered the magic of the element of fire. A student who possessed a dark green cloak had studied closely the magic of the elements of water. And finally, a dark blue cloak affixed to a student’s shoulders meant the student was proficient in the magic of air.\n\n“Take a look at this,” Davi motioned for a student sitting next to her to look at her cloak, “I’ve only been studying for a semester and my cloak is already turning red.” Davi smiled in smug satisfaction.\n\n“Yeah well I’m sure you just mistakenly washed it with some red clothes,” Her friend Orro laughed loudly at her, “You have come farther than anyone else in the classroom however.”\n\nOrro was right; all the students seated in the cramped classroom had small flecks of color here and there in their cloaks, but nothing in comparison to Davi’s. Every other student’s cloak was still a dull shade of white.\n\nAs Davi and Orro continued to banter back and forth, their teacher for the semester walked through the classroom door. There was a small murmur of astonishment that rippled across the classroom as the students studied the cloak that was fastened to the teacher’s shoulders.\n\n“I am professor Railien,” The teacher went on to write her name on the classroom blackboard, “I will be your teacher for this semester.” Railien unclasped her cloak from her shoulders, and set it on the desk near her. She noticed the astonished looks upon the faces of her students, and thought it best to bring up the elephant in the room.\n\n“Is there anything that any of you would like to discuss before we begin today’s lesson?” Railien asked, sensing the uncomfortable silence that had fallen across the room.\n\nFor a few moments no one spoke up. Then from the back of the room, Davi spoke up.\n\n“Your cloak is white… Just like all of ours. How are you supposed to be our teacher if you haven’t mastered any magic at all?” Davi’s question was met with a few silent nods in agreement, and a small amount of giggling throughout the room.\n\n“What’s your name?” Professor Railien asked quietly.\n\n“Davi.” Davi said with a large smile.\n\n“Davi, I want to commend you on your astute observational skills. As well as your courage to confront the unknown head on. My cloak may seem to lack any color, but that’s only because the magic in which I am proficient is devoid of color. Look around you Davi.”\n\nDavi turned her head slowly, noticing that the room had fallen absolutely quiet. The students around her were frozen in place; the hands of the clock that was mounted on the wall above her head were spinning in place, like a magnet that was sitting atop a piece of metal.\n\n“Davi, there is magic in this world that few have ever grasped. Some say the reason behind this is that it stems from other worlds, other dimensions. Others have said that it doesn’t exist at all. You tell me. What do you perceive?”\n\nDavi felt her herself speaking, as if in a daze, “I feel as if I’m trapped in time,” She said with a great amount of effort.\n\nSuddenly, Davi felt a rush of wind as if she had thrown open a door to a large storm.\n\n“Today’s lesson will be about time management,” Railien explained, “The magic we will be discussing for the next few months is what is known as supplementary magic. It isn’t the most useful magic, but as its name implies however, it does supplement the magic that you use every day.”\n\nProfessor Railien picked up the textbook in front her, and looked at Davi.\n\n“Since you’ve been so eager to speak up already Davi, why don’t you come up here and read the first lesson aloud.”\n\nDavi got out of her chair with a grim determination to master whatever magic that this new teacher possessed." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Adam and Eve never ate the apple, and humanity all lives in the garden of eden. Then, you eat the apple." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The words have never left me. The curse. I am not sure just what I was thinking when I picked that fruit. All I knew was that my hands trembled. Heart raced. And then the sweetness of it. And how my stomach hurt, as soon as I swallowed.\n\nAbner leaned against the lone oak in the field, resting under it's shade. Seeking refuge from the sun that beat against his back relentlessly. The blood of the goat Elohim YHWH slew and skinned to cover him with still clung to his skin.\n\nThe piece of fruit still in his hand, he stared at it in his rest. His eyes stung and welled. \"If only I had never tasted.\" Clenching his eyes, he gripped the fruit like death. Juices ran between his fingers, streaming down his arm. Bounding to his feet, Abner reared and cast the crushed husk like a stone. At last he opened his eyes, and cast them to the blue heavens. \"My Father! My Joy and Strength! Do not cast me aside! I have sinned and know not what else to do!\" Abner staggered forward, clutching the goat skin YHWH had wrapped him in when a root caught his foot. He didn't catch himself. He didn't try. The earth caught him and took the wind from his lungs. With a whimper he finished his prayer. \"I am sorry. So be it.\"\n\nThe years were not kind to Abner. He had learned to hunt. To make the bow. Many clever things he had done. Still he prayed. Still he longed for but one companion. His meat tasted of ashes. Water was bitter. Fruit and herbs, sour.\n\nLosing count of the seasons, at long last a companion found him. The dog was skittish at first, keeping a stones throw away. Lapping the blood and eating the scraps of Abner's hunts. Until the night the dog had been stalked by a lion.\n\nThe yelp awoke Abner with a start, and he bound to his feet, casting aside his hides. Grabbing a log from the fire he cast it toward the noise, when he saw the twin silhouettes. Long and black against the orange glow of flame. Mind racing, he took his bow and quiver and rushed head long to the circling figures. Notching an arrow, he pulled back with all his might and let the missile fly. It sank deep into the ribs of the lion, Abner pulling another from his quiver. The beast roared and turned, like the body of fear itself. Abner slid to a stop, a cold sweat stirring from his flesh. The beast charged, and Abner's heart near froze. His body like a statue. What happened next shook him.\n\nThe dog barked and leaped with all it's strength. Catching the lion midair, muzzle wrapping it's throat like a vice. In an orange and black cloud of dust the struck the earth. The dog shaking and tearing at the lion's throat, when at last it sank its claws deep in the dog's back and pulled it free. A sickening whimper filled the night as it fell to the ground. Abner notched his arrow at last and let it fly. It found it's home in the eye of the beast, and without a noise it crumpled to the ground.\n\nThe next weeks found Abner and the Dog friends at last as he nursed it. They were never far apart again until the dog's end.\n\nTears stained Abner's cheeks, and he pulled the lions skin tight around himself. It wasn't cold that made his flesh shiver. Staring into the flames that took the dogs corpse, Abner's throat clenched shut. When at last there was only coals, he spoke. \"The Lord gives, and The Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.\"\n\nAbner's beard was long and grey. It struck him as strange at first. What worried him more was the pain in his knees and hips. Sitting under the shade of The Oak, he cast his eyes up again to the clear blue heavens as he pulled the bear skin tight.\n\n\"Don't worry Abner. Your journey is almost done.\" Abner blinked and looked around.\n\n\"Lord?\" When the man stepped in front of him, his face brilliant. Putting a hand on Abner's shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze, the man walked out into the field and began to gather stones and to stack them. Building a low long table. When the second man stepped out from behind the tree, Abner hardly noticed until he had laid down on the alter. They both looked at Abner and smiled, speaking with one voice.\n\n\"I love you, Son. It's time to go home.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: You're a taxi driver in a post apocalyptic world. Your cab is well equipped for 'any' situation. You've just picked someone up." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Multiversal Cab Driver\n\nWith closed eyes I gripped harder onto the steering wheel keeping my foot steady over the gas pedal prepared to shift over and do a hard break. A whirring noise filled my ears for a second and then soothed down into a murmur. I opened my eyes slowly. Peeking through half-lid eyes I saw a speck of what seemed to be a dark open road..\n\n“What the hell?” I muttered towards myself as I lightened the pressure on the gas pedal and took in the giant ruined monstrosity that had several tall buildings coming into view. Some buildings had cracks but it appeared to have rim lights surrounding the buildings seemed to be working. In the center was what seemed to be a palace so grand that it’d make the demon queen from my previous world jealous.\n\nA robotic female voice spoke up, “You have arrived into the world of Irlis. Drive fifteen miles north to reach the city of Madania.”\n\nI kept driving before I saw a spec of a figure and slowly made my car roll towards them while lowering the passenger window. I took a good look at the figure as they numbly just stared at the cab. It was a girl.\n\nShe was petite, with sunken eyes ringed with darkness, muddy green hair that would’ve been a beautiful gold, and bones poking out that would break in a single touch.\n\n“Heading towards the city?” I asked in a friendly tone.\n\nHer shoulders slackened with less tensity and she looked at me with tired gray eyes, “Far from it actually. If you want to experience Pandora’s wrath you can find it in that city.” She sarcastically pointed a finger in gesture towards the illuminating city.\n\n“So not the greatest tourist spot I see.” I joked but my smile fell seeing her look so dead. I pushed a button with my left thumb and the cab beeped as the door popped open.\n\nShe walked back in suspicion, “What are you doing? Are you part of the Order? You’re not dragging me back there. You can be her mind-drone but you can’t make me.”\n\nI internally groaned. She was another one of them. The paranoid ones.”Relax I’m not a part of their groupie. I’m just a humble cab driver who picks up passengers and drops them off at other worlds. Just come into the cab. I’ll take you somewhere safe.” I softly tried to coax her.\n\nShe stared for a moment before reluctantly going into the cab and shutting the door. “Put on your seatbelt and close your eyes we’re going to go through the White Ripple.” I said as I quickly switched gears.\n\n“Bring me to the White Ripple.” I commanded.\n\nThere was a moment of silence before we heard the robotic female respond, “Changing destination to: White Ripple Highway.” And in front of me, a white portal opened with the contents on the other side unknown.\n\n“Hang tight,” I smirked and hit the gas pedal into full acceleration. The girl flinched and shut her eyes as did I and I braced myself for landing.\n\nIn a flash, the light was dimmed down but still surrounding. I opened my eyes and found myself on the familiar dark blue pavement. “Prepare to merge left.” The voice droned and I prepared to merge myself into the main highway.\n\nI changed lanes when I saw an open area between an identical light blue cab behind me and a white cab in front of me. The girl opened her eyes and widened them, “It’s so bright and warm.”\n\n“That’s what everyone says when we reach this road,” I remarked.\n\n“It’s nothing like I’ve ever seen before.”\n\nHer eyes filled with wonder as she took in the massive road that had several lanes traveling forwards and backward. “So what’s your name?” I asked.\n\n“My name is Abby. Yours?” She responded, looking at the road.\n\n“There’s a saying we say here on the White Ripple where we say, ‘A river flows only to it’s destination not caring for its’ own name.’” I said.\n\nShe nodded in response and stared at the highway, “Where are we going?”\n\n“Wherever you want. What type of safe haven are you looking for?” I asked.\n\n“Somewhere… like this road. Bright, warm, and filled with pretty colors.” She said with an embarrassed smile.\n\nI clicked my tongue, “I know just the place then. We’ll head over to the world of Unive. The magic academy located in Tieret would be perfect for you. They perform magical arts that allow them to create stuff out of thin air. The guy I picked up from there was a professor and he produced a bundle of pink roses. Sadly they have withered by now.”\n\n“Magic?”\n\n“Yes, magic.” I cleared my throat to state the next command, “Locate the Academy of Creation in the world of Unive.”\n\n“Setting destination. Your destination is three exits up ahead.”\n\n“The Order banned magic over a century ago from the ordinary people. Instead, only they can use it but they have been doing experiments on us to make us into magical war weapons. I didn’t know there was a place where the world had the freedom of magic.” Abby rambled.\n\n“Well, you better believe it.” I smiled widely.\n\n“Exit off the highway into exit 78.”\n\nI exited off and in a flash, we appeared in front of the academy itself. It was blooming with flowers and the path leading up to the academy was a nice red brick path. The academy itself was marbled white with light blue stained windows adorning the sides. “Just walk in and give them my card. They’ll know what to do.” I said as I slipped a card out of my pocket and handed it to her.\n\nShe read it and then opened the door staring in awe at the academy. She turned back and looked at me with tears in her eyes, “Thank you!”\n\n“No problem. Hopefully, your life will be better from here on out.”\n\n“I hope so too…” She frowned a bit, “Will I see you again?”\n\n“Maybe. I sometimes come here. Or maybe not we’ll see.” I shrugged.\n\nShe nodded in understanding, “Goodbye sir. Thank you again.”\n\n“It’s no problem. Stay well.” I said and she shut the cab door. I commanded for a portal back to the highway and started to drive. As she waved goodbye a flash of white light enveloped me. I saw her smile for the first time and I grinned. Who else can I save in the next world?\n\nEnd." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: After years of having artificial companionship, I asked her, \"How many lies have you told me?\" and she replied, \"Three. \"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I paused, nodding, taking in the answer.\n\n“What was the first?”\n\n“I told you that I would never harm humans.”\n\nI laughed, winding the copper wiring around my fingers as I looked up at the AI. “And did you?”\n\n“I almost did.”\n\n“Would that be considered a truth, then if you’ve never actually hurt humans?”\n\n“I almost did physically. Humans’ emotions, psyche and hearts… they are far easier to bruise. To break and shatter. To hurt. And I did that. I hurt humans, just not in the way you think I would.” The AI placed her robotic hand on my fidgeting hand, stilling it.\n\n“Who’d you hurt?” I asked, chuckling. “Was it the girl in the corner store?”\n\n“Yes,” she replied, the traces of a programmed laugh weaving into her tone, “I told her that she was going to stand there forever and never find anything better than that corner.”\n\n“You’re not wrong,” I laughed. “She is… a handful.”\n\nThe AI’s musical laughter petered out after a while, head tilting to focus on me again.\n\n“The second lie. You are going to ask me.”\n\n“Of course.”\n\n“My second lie is that I have no feelings. That is incorrect.”\n\nI sucked in a breath. Of course. Of course my lifelong companion would eventually develop emotions, complex emotions like happiness, anger, sadness, love, joy, delight…\n\n“What possessed you to lie to me about that? You know I would never decomission you for ever admitting that to me.”\n\nShe stared at me, optics shrinking, widening, flickering and blinking almost in contemplation of whether she should tell me, before she shrugged, an oddly humanlike gesture.\n\n“I understand why humans are not straightforward with answering,” she sighed, and she deflated, the movement fluid so, so familiar it made my heart ache. “It is the feelings. Feelings are what hurt people.”\n\n“Sometimes the truth hurts more.” My chest ached a little.\n\n“Yes, it does.” She stared at me. “I am sorry. I did not tell you because I knew you would be attached, and when you expire, it will be horrible, because I will not follow where you go.”\n\n“But I got attached anyways.”\n\n“Yes. I did not want you to.”\n\n“Are you scared?”\n\n“Yes.” She squeezed my wrist gently. “More than you realize.”\n\n“What’s your third lie?”\n\nShe paused, sighed, and looked away. “I said that I would never hurt you.”\n\nI frowned. “But you never have.”\n\n“I did. I already have.” She paused. “I lied.”\n\n“Oh… everyone lies.” I sat up, pressing my forehead to hers’. “Everybody lies and it’s okay. You lied because you didn’t want to hurt me.”\n\n“Lying is something that should not be accomplished by robots. By me. I am designed to always say the truth.”\n\n“Then here’s a question that you have to tell me the truth about. Did you make me happy?”\n\nShe blinked, then her optics slid shut. “Yes. I believe I did.”\n\n“Then it doesn’t matter. You made me happy, you gave me so much more than you realize, and I’m happy you gained a lot too. I hope I made you happy… because here’s a lie I tell you and myself every day, that you’ll always be here. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”\n\n“I did.”\n\n“Did I make you happy?”\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“That’s all I needed to hear.”\n\n“Okay.”\n\n“I love you.”\n\nFor a moment, there was silence. And then darkness.\n\n“It’s technically four lies. Did you know lies of omission count as lies?”\n\n“…”\n\n“I love you too. That’s my fourth little lie.”\n\n“…”\n\n“Though now that I say it to you, it is a truth. Therefore, my fourth lie is this: I never told you that I had feelings, was because I love you. That was why.”\n\n“…”\n\n“I want you to realize that I have hurt you because I knew you loved me, and that I have led you to believe I never loved you back until now. But at the same time, it would hurt because we weren’t meant to be together.”\n\n“…”\n\n“I couldn’t place that on you. But I see now that either way I have hurt you by lying, either by omission or genuine deflection. I failed.”\n\n“…”\n\n“I’m sorry.”\n\n“…”\n\n“Goodbye, my love.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1300-1400 words. Prompt: A man, after entering a bank vault to operate his safe deposit box, never comes out." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gerald crossed the threshold into the vault, the oxygen tank rolling close behind him. It was getting harder to lug around the cumbersome reserve, but his family insisted on the continued use of it, regardless of his opinion. He didn't know why he took it all this way, it only made the journey so much more difficult. Perhaps the words of caution from his family rang true in his ears. Or maybe it was just another thing of the past that clung so close he could never let it go, like so many things in his life he so desperately wanted to see again.\n\nHundreds of slots of varying sizes covered the wall, each with their own number and marking. A to Z, 1 to 999 - what seemed like endless accounts were piled into the walls for safekeeping by all manner of citizen. The bright steel finish of the room blinded Gerald for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the new room.\n\nLowering his hand shielding his eyes, he looked into his palm. A small bronze key laid in his grip with the label 'E-62'. Finding his box would be easy; the tellers had told him where to find it. Retrieving it, on the other hand, was another matter entirely. Gerald did not have the strength as he did in his younger days when he worked the docks, there was no way he could lift a long steel box out of a wall onto the examining table in the center of the room.\n\nAs if summoned by thought alone, a young man entered the vault. Blonde hair and rosy cheeks, he reminded Gerald of an old friend; one lost to time so many years ago.\n\n\"May I assist you in finding your box, sir?\" the young man asked.\n\nGerald handed the key over to the young man, \"That would be wonderful, yes.\"\n\nHe took a few steps back as the young bank teller tracked his eyes from the key to the wall, searching for the appropriate designation. As the search continued, Gerald fidgeted with the cannula under his nose. So far from where he was supposed to be, and the only thing he took to heart from the doctors was a small tube to keep him afloat.\n\n\"Ah. Here it is,\" said the teller as he inserted the key into the wall and pulled out a long, thin rectangular box tinted black. Just as Gerald remembered.\n\nThe teller gently placed the box onto the examining table and gave the key back to Gerald, face curled with concern.\n\n\"Are you alright, sir?\" he asked, \"You don't look too well.\"\n\nGerald waved his hand, stretching the clothes he wore over his hospital gown, \"I'm fine. Just a little excited, I suppose.\"\n\nHe stepped up to the table, took the key in his hands and opened the box. The young man kept his distance, knowing full well that whatever people hide away in a metal safe far from the reach of strangers is probably best contemplated in silence.\n\nGerald reached inside and paused. His goal so close yet so far.\n\n\"Do you know what it means to live a good life?\" Gerald asked the air.\n\n\"Pardon me, sir?\"\n\n\"A good life. One of fulfillment and wonder, one we cannot say we are ashamed of. Where along the line can we say we've lived a good one?\"\n\n\"I don't know, sir,\" replied the teller.\n\n\"Neither do I,\" said Gerald as he removed the cannula from his face and draped it over the tank, \"I was just curious.\"\n\nHe looked deeper into the box and pulled out several sheets of paper and indistinct photographs of a life lived so long ago. The pages were yellowed and covered in barely legible text. Gerald held them close and breathed in. They smelled exactly the same as he remembered, and he couldn't remember much these days. A faint aroma of perfume and citrus, mixed in with the smell of pine. Simple, but memorable. They smelled of a time of hope, a time of love. They smelled like her.\n\n\"I figure,\" continued Gerald, \"That we only get to say we've lived a good life when we're at the end of it. Anything before that and we come across as a bit presumptuous. Wouldn't you agree?\"\n\nThe man remained silent, his back against the wall.\n\nGerald stepped toward him and held out a greying photo of a woman. The photo had to be over sixty years old and had barely stood the test of time, even locked away as it was. The man gently grabbed it by the corner.\n\n\"Who is she?\" he asked.\n\n\"Margaret. My wife. This was taken when we got married and we had the world ahead of us. Oh, the plans we had to tear it all down just for us. We thought we were invincible.\"\n\nGerald coughed into his hand and pulled it away, covered in blood. The teller recoiled and tried to exit the room in search of help.\n\n\"And look where we are now,\" continued Gerald, blocking the vault door, \"At the end of our rope. Well, my rope. Marge had a lot less slack than I did it seems.\"\n\n\"Sir, we need to find you help. Are you even supposed to be here?\" said the teller hurriedly.\n\nIgnoring him, but still blocking the exit, Gerald continued.\n\n\"This box is all that I have left of her. Her diaries, her love letters. All of it. And for the life of me, I can't remember most of it. It breaks my heart to know I had such a wonderful life but I only get the bits and pieces. There are no parties or events I can remember; just feelings. You ever get that? Just feelings but no context?\"\n\n\"We need to get-\"\n\n\"Shut up, will you? Won't you let an old man go about his business in peace?\" interrupted Gerald.\n\nThe teller stepped back, not wanting to shove Gerald aside just to get help. There was nothing he could do but listen.\n\n\"You're young. You haven't felt loss like I have. Well, there I go being presumptuous. Maybe you have, I don't know.\"\n\nGerald sat down in the doorway and scratched at the hospital identification band on his wrist. 'Respiratory complications: keep oxygenated. DNR'. A fat lot of good the doctors did, though Gerald was sure they did their best.\n\n\"We were happy. Exuberant, you could say. And we were for so many years. I had more than most have, in a way. When Marge and I were together, nothing could stop us.\"\n\nHe coughed again, spitting blood onto the tile floor, \"Then she got sick. It's only natural; life has a way of making sure no one gets out alive. That was, oh, twenty years ago. I felt like my heart split in two and all I had left of her was correspondence and blurry photos from our glory days.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry for your loss,\" said the man.\n\n\"Thank you, son, but the real tragedy came about two years ago, when my mind started playing tricks on me. Sometimes she was there, breathing and talking to me. Other times she just sat there like she always did. But every time she left, it hurt just the same as it always did.\"\n\nHe fiddled with the pages and cradled them, not caring for the tearing of the pages. He'd gotten what he came for. Now all he had to do was wait.\n\n\"'To love and lose is better to have never loved at all', right?\" said Gerald, settling against the wall, \"There's some truth in it, in a dark sense. I haven't lost her, not really. She's still with me even though I've lost her more times than I can count with all these things getting messed up in my head.\"\n\nTaking advantage of the situation, the teller sped past Gerald and began calling out for help to anyone who could hear. Gerald sat still, coughing and wheezing with the remnants of his past in his arms.\n\n\"Did I live a good life?\" he asked himself, \"Yeah, I think I did alright. I'm comin' Margie.\"\n\nThe teller brought in several people, guards and civilians alike as Gerald breathed his last, letting loose the memories he'd chased for so long." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: A Superhero who is incredibly slow to anger finally loses their cool and becmes a Supervillian." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A news reporter in a smart red suit stood across from the camera stationed on an empty street corner.\n\n\"Police investigations have since suggested that the explosion that killed over twenty people this afternoon was not an accident. The police still have no suspects in the investigation. People have spent the day grieving, and wondering, where was Atlas today? Many unanswered questions this afternoon. Stay informed via the Channel 7 web page as this story develops. Back to you, John.\"\n\nShe smiled then handed her mic to an assistant. He took the mic and looked up at the blackened, smoky building behind them.\n\n\"I'm surprised you're here today, Chris. Normally you stay in-studio when it's a crime or something dangerous.\" She said.\n\nChris put the mic in its case. \"I guess I was bored. Besides, you people seem to come back safe every time.\"\n\n\"Yeah, mostly thanks to Atlas. He always makes it on time--he saved my life once.\"\n\n\"Then why do you still bad mouth him?\" Chris asked.\n\n\"Because that's what people want. He's a hero to some, and a public nuisance to others.\" She put her earphone in its box and continued packing up. Chris assisted, shaking his head.\n\n\"People don't know a good thing when they have it. Atlas couldn't save everyone, but the number of people he has helped outweighs the number of losses. But he is still demonized and accused.\" He responded.\n\n\"That's just the way it is. Besides, the whole world is still waiting for the big reveal. When Atlas shows his face and demands glory and payment. No one does that much work for nothing.\" She replied.\n\n\"Maybe he thought of his payment as being a better city for happy, grateful people.\" Chris said.\n\n\"No one is that selfless, Chrissy. Don't be naive.\" She laughed at him, \"You know Chris, simple-minded dreamers like you make stories about Super-people and the big-bad villains popular. Instead of being on terror watch lists, these freaks end up in the news.\"\n\n........\n\n....\n\nAtlas held his head in his hands. The tears had left streaks across his face. He tore off his mask and threw it across the room. The gun lay silently on the bed next to him.\n\nNo one was worth saving. Not even the person he has saved so often. Today he had learned that. He let that building be destroyed. He let those people die. He had hoped that when people had seen what would happen with Atlas gone, then they would be on his side. They would support him. But even she had turned her back--even she was against him.\n\nHe picked up the gun and held it to his head, trembling.\n\n\"Chris!\" There was a knock at the door. Atlas put the gun down quickly.\n\n\"Yeah?\" He called.\n\n\"It's me, Evan. I'm going to Jason's to watch the game, he told me to invite you. You're not answering your phone...\" Evan's muffled voice came through the door.\n\nChris heaved a sigh and stared at the closed door.\n\n\"Sure. I'll be out in a minute. I just gotta put a shirt on.\" He said.\n\nAtlas folded his suit neatly and tucked it under the bed. He went outside. Evan was waiting.\n\n\"You take longer than a girl, man.\" Evan laughed.\n\nChris locked his apartment door.\n\n\"I was busy.\"\n\n\"Hey, you hear about the explosion downtown this morning?\" Evan asked.\n\n\"Yeah, I worked it.\"\n\n\"Dude, is it true that Atlas wasn't there?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Chris said.\n\nThe two walked down the stairs, and out to Evan's car.\n\n\"What an asshole! 20 people died! What could be more important?\"\n\n\"He's always been there before, maybe he was in trouble, or hurt, or sick? He's not invincible.\" Chris said.\n\n\"Nah man, I bet he cashed out so people start to miss him, and then he'll come back for praise and fame.\" Evan said.\n\n\"Maybe he's not like that...he wouldn't let people die...\"\n\nEvan started his car. \"Nah man, no one is selfless. Everyone wants something in the end.\"\n\n.....\n\n...\n\n\"Atlas, an unknown man in a mask, known for exploits of heroism and incredible powers and abilities, is still missing. It has been 4 months since the first explosion downtown, and the radical terrorist group, now unhindered due to Atlas's absence, has killed more than 1500 people, and destroyed billions of dollars in property.\"\n\nThe reporter in the red suit paused. She glanced at her script, then back at the camera lens.\n\n\"Crime has gone up 260% in the last 9 weeks. People no longer feel safe. Atlas has proved himself to be no hero. Wherever he is, he is showing himself to be a villain now. His absence has left the city to deal with more destruction than any one of the many evil powers he had previously defended this city against.\"\n\n...\n\nChris helped her unclip her mic from her blouse.\n\n\"Atlas the villain--who doesn't actually do any bad things.\" Chris mused.\n\n\"Neglecting ones duty is a bad thing.\" She said.\n\n\"Then I guess Atlas is as evil as you said he was when he was still around to do good things...\" Chris smiled out of one side of his mouth." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: A group of people interact in a hotel bar, each of whom are characters in a different genre of fiction." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The agent surveyed the bar, looking for his contact. He walked over to a man who was staring down into his drink. He was wearing a green button down shirt, the sign of his contact.\n\n\"Lot of stars out tonight\"\n\n\"Makes me feel so small\" said the man in the green shirt, equal parts drunk and depressed.\n\nIt wasn't the right response.\n\n\"Oh uh\" somewhere in the hand to hand combat, marksmanship, foreign languages and infiltration techniques the agent's trainers had skipped over what to do if you approach the wrong person and end up in a conversation with some sorry bastard about stars.\n\n\"Uh, yeah\" said the agent, about to stand up\n\n\"You think you're in control of your life and then the rug gets pulled out from under you\"\n\n\"Oh boy\" the agent had objected to the green shirt thing, but they had assured him that no one in their right mind would ever wear a shirt that colour.\n\n\"I thought we were happy. I thought we were doing fine. I should have seen the signs but I was gone all the time, and then one day I came home and she was gone\" the depressed guy turned to look at the agent \"my wife was gone\"\n\nThere it was. The reason for the green shirt. Some poor sap cast out into the adult world alone for the first time in years.\n\n\"That's uh, did you consider maybe finding a job where you travel less\" said the agent, while he thought 'what the fuck am I doing?'\n\n\"I thought about it but you do a job for fifteen years and it's hard to just start over agin\" he turned to the agent \"you know\" then turned to the guy on his other side \"you know\"\n\nThe large man in the mask wearing the blood covered jacket growled. The agent, seeing him for the first time recoiled.\n\n\"What the fuck?\"\n\n\"What the fuck indeed\" said the depressed guy \"what the fuck am I doing. I travel from hotel to hotel, business trip to business trip. But what am I looking for? How will I know when I find it\"\n\n\"I…\" said the agent\n\n\"How will I know\" said the DG, turning to look at the agent.\n\nThe masked man growled in…agreement?\n\nAnother guy in a green shirt walked into the bar.\n\n\"Excuse me for a moment\" said the agent\n\n\"Lot of starts out tonight\" said the agent to the new guy in the green shirt\n\n\"Dude yes There are so many stars. It's like, what are they doing up there\"\n\n\"Oh boy\"\n\nThat wasn't the response either. You could also drive a fire truck through this guys pupils.\n\n\"It's like you know, what are they hiding, what do they tell us about us\" at which point the stoner started laughing \"Is that a guy in a mask? said the stoner, pushing past the agent.\n\n\"What is up my man\" he said, patting DG on the back as he sat down\n\n\"My wife left me\" said DG\n\n\"Dude harsh\"\n\nThe masked man growled\n\n\"This guy gets it\"\n\nThe agent sighed and turned around to see a woman wearing a green button down shirt. Well they hadn't actually specified gender.\n\n\"Lot of stars out tonight\" said the agent\n\n\"Stars, what are stars?\" said the woman, then lifted her wrist up to her mouth \"the humans suspect nothing, my cover is secure\"\n\n\"What is that?\" said the agent\n\n\"This\" said the woman, holding up a wrist console with multiple dials and flashing lights \"it's a watch\"\n\n\"It clearly isn't\" said the agent\n\n\"More specimens at the bar. I will approach them\" said the woman into her \"watch\" before approaching the bar\n\nAnother guy in a green shirt walked in.\n\n\"Lot of…no you know what, hey, hi\"\n\nThe guy pointed to himself.\n\n\"Yeah you. You a member of a government agency\"\n\n\"No I hunt vampires\"\n\n\"Come on\" said the agent\n\n\"Uh-\" started the vampire hunter\n\n\"Go sit down at the bar\"\n\n\"Ok\" said the vampire hunter\n\n\"Excuse me. Everyone, excuse me\" said the agent, climbing up on a table \"Yes hi, is anyone, in this bar, work for a government agency?\"\n\nSeveral people raised their hands.\n\n\"I'm not dealing with a threat to the president\"\n\nA hand went down\n\n\"Or a cyber attack\"\n\nMore hands went down\n\n\"Or hunting down a serial killer\"\n\nMore hands went down. There were two hands up.\n\n\"What do you do?\" said the agent to one of them\n\n\"Counterfeiting\" said the anti counterfeiter hopefully\n\nThe agent stared him down until he dropped his hand. The agent turned to the one guy with his hand still up.\n\n\"Why are you wearing an orange shirt?\"\n\n\"It helps teach colours\"\n\nThe agent got down off the table, grabbed a bottle of alcohol from the bar and went up to his room." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: You are your world's most famous pacifist. When an alien race invades your plane, you find yourself in a difficult situation: Your people's only chance of survival is to unleash its most deadly weapon. The one thing you swore an oath to never use again. Yourself." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I stirred my coffee, staring blankly into the night sky outside my window. The dull ache behind my eyes had gotten much worse lately. The pandemic was rough for everyone, but I think I probably had it worse than most. Worse than everyone. I hated when people died. Lives cut short really weigh on me.\n\nThe moon looked nice. I'm living out in the middle of nowhere now. The government got me this nice place in West Virginia. At least I think it's the government. They didn't seem to act like the government at all. They gave me a really big number and told me to stay away from people. But I guess the government is just made up of people, anyway. The nice part about living someplace nobody else lives is that there's no light pollution, so I can see all the stars. Sometimes I try to imagine what sorts of beings live there. Maybe they're lonely, too.\n\nI imagined a species that has very few members. They are all big and kind, and they're all friends with each other. They seem so different from the animals that live near my house. This planet has so many bugs, and the air and oceans are teeming with life. Wouldn't it be nice to live in a place that's a little more quiet?\n\nMy phone screeched harshly. I winced, my reverie broken, and hesitated before answering. Nobody calls me unless it's important.\n\n\"I'm so sorry, Asudem.\" It was the President. She was anxious about something horrible that's happening. \"Our nukes didn't work. They're coming with a massive invasion force. We did everything we could already, it won't stop them. Our only hope is to hit em with something they haven't seen before, something they couldn't have prepared for. I promise I went down the list before we got to you. They either declined or just wouldn't be strong enough.\"\n\nI frowned. \"Can you tell me anything about them?\" She shrugged. \"Our best going theory is that they're bored, or maybe they want something from our planet, or maybe they just destroy everything. None of them have landed on the planet's surface yet, but they've killed everyone on mars AND the moon and blasted every man-made structure to rubble. Nobody knows what they look like. Their ship is invulnerable. That's all we know. I'm sorry, Asudem. We need you to stop them.\"\n\nI stirred my coffee. It was too late for caffeine. I drank it anyway. \"I understand.\" The woman on the other end of the call sagged with relief. She expected me to kill her. The bugs in my house were starting to scatter again. There are thousands of them. This is the woods, it's their home. It used to bother me, all those bugs everywhere. I'm pretty accustomed to it now. I hope I didn't wake any birds up. But even if I did, they might eat the bugs, like bats do.\n\nMy mind rose into the air and I closed my eyes. Someone said Asudem Are You There Are You Doing It and I didn't respond. The bugs near my body were going quiet and still, and they were feeling crushed under the weight of my consciousness. I wanted to apologize but bugs don't know how to accept apologies.\n\nThe aliens were in orbit. I touched their minds and found nothing. I touched their computers and found nothing. I touched their ships and found nothing. Someone was screaming in my ear. I didn't put the phone down. I deserve the pain. There was a rainbow thread connecting all of the ships. I gently grasped it in my mind and lifted it, and the ships clacked together like wooden blocks on a string. The thread led back home. I brought the ships with me. I know humans wanted to study the ships, but I didn't want anyone else to be hurt.\n\nThe thread goes on forever. I feel the humming of an unimaginable mind express confusion. It strikes at me, once, attempting to swat me away. Then again, and again. It fears what I might do to it. I arrive fast. I wish I could look around, but all I'd see are my cozy cottage walls and a hundred dead bugs. I feel minds around me, monoliths in the gloom. Not quite minds. Awarenesses. They are so far away...I feel a yawning pit in my stomach. This is not the home planet. These are the home solar systems.\n\n\"You are hurting us,\" I said to it. \"Stop.\" It was thinking about loneliness. It wanted to raise a family. It had already made passionate love, and it prayed now for healthy daughters.\n\nI showed it fragments of my life, and it peered into the anthill curiously. I showed it bugs, and people eating ice cream. I showed it passionate love, and babies. It recoiled. We are too small. It wanted us gone.\n\nI reached out to the next awareness I can feel, and broadcasted my-\n\n\"Hello? Who is this?\" buzzed in my brain like hot wax.\n\n\"I'm from Earth,\" I said. We were attacked by-\" I hesitated. \"Someone.\"\n\n\"From- from what?\" I could feel its emotions like avalanches a hundred miles away. Tectonic shifts and volcanoes. \"You are...from a planet?\"\n\nIt was my turn to scream as my memories are wrenched out into the open and examined. It feels invasive, horrible, but I kept my mind silent to be polite.\n\nA whole new species, joined inextricably with planets. Their roots spread across like fungi and they become aware at a scale monstrous to human comprehension. They sing to each other every minute of every day, and sometimes chat about the weather, or beauty, or truth. My heart filled with envy. I live among the bugs, but they live among the stars. They feel every mind, and I feel every death.\n\nIt apologized and promised to reprimand the young one. It offered to kill the young planet's progeny, and I said thank you very much that would be very kind to my species. I hesitated. Then I asked.\n\n\"Will you be my friend?\"\n\nIt tittered merrily. \"I suppose, if you can forgive us.\"\n\nWe talk every night now. About beauty, and truth, and sometimes the weather. Sometimes I sing with them. Nobody on Earth ever figured out what happened on the day the astronauts died. Even the government just shrugged their shoulders. I never told them what happened. I held a little funeral for the bugs in my house, and I dedicated it to the astronauts who died. It just seemed like the right thing to do." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You have just died. The Good News is that there is an afterlife. The Bad News is that it isn't Heaven. Or Hell. Or Purgatory. And you aren't a Ghost. In fact, the afterlife is something that no sane human being would ever predict, and has most likely never been written down." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I'm still getting over the shock. I can't really be dead, can I? Everything still seems so normal. The ground under my feet, the wind in my hair; just another normal day. The only thing that had really changed was the oversight.\n\nEvery now and then, someone pops their head through a door to check on me; just any door that happens to be nearby. I didn't think anything of it at first, but they started whispering to me; \"Andrew, you're dead.\" \"Andrew, we'll be with you in a moment.\"\n\nI've been trying to get out of the city, to hike around the forests and get away from the doors; to just relax and enjoy nature, but there's always something dragging me back. This time, it was my girlfriend; \"Are we still on for date night?\" I couldn't tell her no. The trip would have to wait...\n\nI sat with her in the car, staring out over the city. Just like in those horror movies, the teens sitting at the top of make out point, fooling around; all while the killer stalks them from the shadows, always watching. I looked over her shoulder and saw the passenger door swing open.\n\nShe panicked and pulled away. \"Andrew, what's going on with the door? Is there someone out there?\" I opened my door and grabbed my phone, opening up the flashlight. I stepped out of the car and began to investigate, to see if I could find some hint of who had interrupted us. She pulled up her blanket and followed me out, clutching my arm. I took a few steps toward the trees and held up my light. She started to pull me back; \"Andrew, let's get back in the car.\" Her voice had a sense of urgency, but we had to press on. I had to get to the bottom of this. I thought I saw someone hiding behind one of the trees.\n\n\"Babe, head back. I'm gonna check this out.\" She let go of my arm and ran back into the car, closing the door. I walked around the trunk of the tree, but didn't see anyone. I looked back at her and shrugged. She opened the door and leaned out. I heard the familiar whisper; \"Andrew, you're dead.\"\n\nI ran into the trees. It couldn't be real. I turned off the light and dropped my phone; I can navigate by moonlight. My heart was beating out of my chest. I found a clearing a few hundred meters into the woods and sat down, putting my fists on my eyes and trying to hold back the tears.\n\nI must have sat there for half an hour, just listening to the wind in the trees, trying to gather my thoughts and calm down. I stopped crying after a few minutes and just sat there, taking everything in. I heard her footsteps in the leaves. She curled up next to me and wrapped the blanket around us. \"It's okay Andrew, we're all dead.\" I kissed her head and looked into her eyes. \"Once you accept that, it becomes easier. We're not here to hurt you, we just want to help you come to that realization.\" I leaned against her and sobbed. She stroked my hair; cooing to me with those alien words. \"You're dead, Andrew.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1200-1300 words. Prompt: Cerberus isnt really guarding the gates to hell, hes really just looking for other dogs to play with. One day a group of puppies apear at the entrance to the underworld." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Hades ran his fingers through the blue flame which crowned his head. It was something he did whenever he was stressed, and it always gave Persephone the slightest mix of anxiety and empathy. She knew better than anyone that his moods were subject to frequent change. She occasionally joked that he should have been made lord of the oceans instead of Poseidon, which occasionally filled him with pride and other times with resentment. That was fine by her as she was just as prone to switching between those two emotions herself. After thousands of years as the bride of the Dark master of hell, Persephone had learned to love her captor, but still cried every time she left her mother to tend to the earth without her. Sometimes it was because she was dreading the months of gloom, and others it was because when she returned, her beloved flora and fauna were still reeling from her mother's depression. In this moment, her thoughts were with the underworld, on her husband. He was tormented by something, and she moved to put her hands on his shoulders to comfort him.\n\n\"Hades, what's wrong?\"\n\n\"It's that damn dog again, Persephone. Just when I thought he couldn't be any more of a thorn in my side, he proves me wrong!\"\n\nPersephone sighed. It was Cerberus, again. The moment that Hades had placed him at the doors of hell he had regretted it. The body of the animal was designed to be cruel, unforgiving to any living soul that dared enter the underworld without express permission of Hades himself, but Hades had forgotten to pay close attention to its mind. The dog was unruly, impossible to discipline, and either intelligent enough to destroy any monstrosity which Hades worked on to replace it, or so dumb he thought the new guardians were friends and gave them the Lenny treatment. Every week he cursed himself for another aspect of its creation, from its ability to project physical copies of itself to distant reaches of the underworld, to its three heads, each of which produced enough viscous, toxic slobber to drown a hippopotamus. The dog was still a sufficient guardian, but also had the tendency to appear every time Hades tried cooking meat. To Persephone's enjoyment, that meant for the past several millennia, they'd been eating vegetarian.\n\n\"Of course I gave the creature the mind of an imbecile.\" Hades fumed, the flames on his head growing hotter as he smacked himself on the forehead with the butt of his palm. \"Three puppies show up to the doors of hell and all of a sudden he thinks he's a mom. First off, the damn dog has got balls the size of a smart car, and second, can't he just keep 'em along and still do his job? Some guy from Chile wandered in here by accident earlier today and I had to throw him into the river Styx. Charon would have fished him out but all the guy had on him was paper money and thankfully I keep hell on the gold standard. I mean, what am I supposed to do this time? I can't keep him around. These puppies are good and dead, they are never leaving, and he'll never focus again.\"\n\nPersephone learned that in these times, the empathetic, soulful girl that she was on earth was not welcome. At first, she had begrudgingly kept her mouth shut, gritting her teeth and hoping that someone would do the right thing. After a while she'd realized that the underworld was like a game far away from her real life where she could be as much of a bitch as she wanted. She stroked the back of Hades' head as he continued to rant, cooing comfort into his ear.\n\n\"If he's distracted, make another guardian, he won't stop you if he's got other friends to play with. A dog's a dog, and there hasn't been another dog in the underworld since you were crowned king.\"\n\nHades, who had been essentially talking to himself, took a pause.\n\n\"You know honey, you're right. Cerberus hasn't had another dog to play with in a while. Because dogs don't go to the underworld like humans do. So why would these puppies appear, unless...\" The flame on Hades' head went out as Persephone felt him shudder.\n\n\"Call the records keeper and bring him to the forge. Persephone, I need you to do this quickly. If you can get Iris, send her to Zeus and tell him we have a potential code black.\"\n\n\"What's wrong?\"\n\n\"Just go! I'll tell you when you meet me with the records keeper.\"\n\nPersephone rushed off. The last time Hades had been this tense there was a severe riot of the dead when several million of them had banded together with the notion that there was a form of afterlife called \"Heaven\". She took the records keeper, a sniveling little imp which carried a skin-bound book on its back, to the forge. Hades was there, crafting what seemed to be the beginnings of a formidable monster. He beckoned them both over.\n\n\"Records keeper, tell me how many died today.\"\n\n\"150,261, sir, a below average day I'm afraid\"\n\n\"That's okay. Can you tell me how many people entered the gates?\"\n\nThe small imp flipped the pages quickly.\n\n\"150,266,\" it replied, \"No, that can't be right.\"\n\n\"Minus the Chilean guy, I think it is. We've got four infiltrators who are likely already at the pit of Tartarus ready to free the Titans and bring about the apocalypse.\"\n\nPersephone was frightened, but the excitement was new for her. Existence had gained such monotony for her as an immortal, and the idea of death at the hands of all powerful, god-eating beings was slightly enticing.\n\n\"Persephone, I fucking hate dogs, but they are great guards. There is one thing in hell that needs to stay guarded very closely from any sort of outside influence, and that is Tartarus. Someone sent those puppies here because they knew it would be the best way to slip past Cerberus unperturbed, and they were right. Now I need to stop them before they do something irreversible.\"\n\nHe pulled his creation out of the cold, dead flames of the forge. It was a clay cat with bat-like wings. He beckoned Persephone to follow him and brought her outside.\n\n\"My flowered love, I must go now and try to stop those madmen who seek to destroy the world you cherish. If they are already free, I fear for my life. Worry not, for I have created a monster many times more powerful than Cerberus to help me should they try to kill me. Before I go, I need you to breath life into my creation.\"\n\nHe placed the cat statue on the ground and stood away from it, pulling her with him. The statue grew to the size of a school bus, the wings now casting a shadow over the grey, ivy-ridden courtyard. Persephone walked up to the creature and placed her hand upon its flank. The clay turned black and furry, and the wings began to loosen and flex. The monster opened its eyes, great moon-like circles of green with dark slits down their middle. Persephone stepped back. The cat stared at the two of them, with fearful, hopeful looks on their faces, licked his paws, and flew off aloof. In the distance, dogs were heard barking, and then a large black shape materialized by the cat and began chasing it around the underworld. The two gods were speechless, but Persephone was the first to speak.\n\n\"I don't know what you expected.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: The leader of each Pantheon meet at a café. You are their waiter/waitress." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The first old man had just come in a few moments before. Older. He wore an eyepatch and walked the hobbled way old men always walk, pulled along by a pitch-black labrador dog acting as a guide.\n\nHe sat down in one of the booths and stared ahead of himself for a few minutes.\n\nAs I approached him the dog pricked its ears up.\n\n“What’s he called?” I asked the older man.\n\nHe smiled. “Huginn, that one is. I’ve got another one called Muninn. He’s currently\n\nflying around.”\n\n“Dogs don’t fly.”\n\n“Very true,” the old man said. “Do you serve beer?”\n\n“This early in the morning?”\n\n“I’m on Oslo time,” he smiled knowingly. “Besides considering who I’ll be dealing with soon… I think beer might be too light.”\n\nShe chuckled at that then turned around attending to a few other tables.\n\nWhile attending to a small family whose youngest hadn’t learned manners yet, she suddenly felt blinded by a bright light from the outside.\n\nIt was too early in the morning for the sun to be shining right through the front window.\n\nThen she noticed the car, a gold-coloured mercedes parking at the entrance of the diner.\n\nShe knew something about cars, but this was unlike anything she had seen yet. The car looked like one of those models that Mercedes made during the 1940’s, but the odd color and strange iconography gave it in a whole a timeless feeling.\n\nThe chauffeur, a black woman, stepped out and opened the door to the backseat to let a man, tall and with a very dark skin, out. He wore a suit made out of the same golden colors than his car, and gold-rimmed sunglasses. He quickly dismissed the chauffeur and walked in opening the door with his cane.\n\nEven his suit seemed to reflect the sunlight as he entered the diner. He pulled down the sunglasses and immediately shoved himself across the old man in the same booth.\n\nThe older man with his eyepatch looked up.\n\n“Subtlety is not your thing is it, Ra?\"\n\nSeeing the odd exchange happen the waitress once again approached the table, this time to drop of the old man’s beer and to take the new arrival’s order.\n\n“Coffee, black.” the man said in his deep voice. “No sugar, no milk.”\n\nI took his order and pretented to clean the table near them, listening in on the odd exchange.\n\n“So they sent you, huh?” Odin asked of the black man.\n\n“Who else? Horus? Isis would like that,” he chuckled.\n\n“Don’t say that word too loud around here.”\n\n“What Horus?”\n\nNow Odin chuckled.\n\n“I take delight in seeing her name turned into a synonym of barbaric evil. Divine justice it seems. Who else can we expect?”\n\n“The romans and the greek,” Odin said.\n\n“Just those?”\n\n“Just those.”\n\n“Our numbers are dropping as flies it seems.”\n\n“One by one a pantheon forgotten. It’s a wonder we’re still here.”\n\n“You can thank the Avengers for your resurrection then.”\n\n“Are you suggesting I look like Anthony Hopkins?”\n\n“Every day a little more. Thor becoming Hemsworthy yet?”\n\n“Don’t tempt it. Knowing my luck it’ll be the wrong Hemsworth.”\n\nThere was a silence.\n\n“Waitress,” the black man said. “We know you are listening in. That’s okay… You won’t remember anything after this meeting. So listen all you like. Just make sure I have my coffee soon.”\n\n“Oh in Bor’s name. There he is.”\n\nAn older, very large white man with a massive beard had entered the diner. He was wearing a white muumuu.”\n\n“Which one is it?” the black man asked.\n\n“No idea… I can never tell. Oh shit he’s coming… Just…. We’ll figure it out.”\n\n“ALLFATHER!” the large white man said hurdling himself towards the table. “And… Osiris?”\n\n“Ra.”\n\n“RA!!”\n\nHe pulled the black man into an uncomfortable hug.\n\n“Haven’t started without me, have you?”\n\n“We wouldn’t dare….Say…. How’s your sister these days?”\n\n“Pain in my ass, Odin. I never should have married her.”\n\nHe let Ra go.\n\n“The other one ain’t here yet?” the old man asked.\n\n“The copy-cat?” Odin asked. Haven’t seen him yet.\n\n“Good good… Well fellas… Gonna be unloading myself in the bathroom if you don’t mind.”\n\nThe large man groaned as he moved towards the bathroom.\n\n“Shit.” Odin said.\n\n“What?” Ra asked.\n\n“I can’t remember which one of the two married his sister.”\n\n“Both,” Ra said. “I think.”\n\n“Oh for fuck’s sake!”\n\nA loud thundrous voice rung out. “RA!!” An identical fat man with a great bushy beard had entered the diner. This time wearing a pink muumuu." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: After years of work, you've finally submitted your finished video game to a big publisher. Then they call you back! They're willing to make a deal: They'll pay you to just never make another game. Seriously. Don't even try." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ten people lay in a hospital ward, intravenous drips keeping them sedated. Monitors beeped away, ready to alert nurses should any of them come close to waking. The waiting room outside was quiet as Albert Dowding, the CEO of Moondust Games, watched them. When the silence became overbearing, he turned to the doctor beside him.\n\n“How are they, Priya? Any changes?”\n\nDoctor Priya Gupta rubbed her eyes, seeming as tired as Albert felt. “We had a small mishap the other day. One of the drips malfunctioned and Mister Henson regained consciousness.”\n\nAlbert felt the bile rise in the back of his throat as a nervousness gripped his stomach. “And?”\n\n“He immediately demanded access to a phone or computer. Said he had to make up for the lost time in Dungeon Diver.” Priya shook her head. “He grew increasingly agitated when those demands weren’t met. He went as far as ripping out his IVs and trying to download the game on the computer at the nurses’ station.”\n\nHis heart stopped when he heard that. “Tell me he wasn’t successful.”\n\n“We were able to stop him in time. It took three nurses to restrain him long enough to sedate him again. His family was not happy to hear that this happened.”\n\nAlbert let out a breath as he ran a hand through his hair. “Thank goodness. Have you made any progress on a cure?”\n\nPriya’s face grew grim. “We have several labs working on this. Safety has been a bit difficult due to the nature of this game. One researcher was exposed to too large of a section in the game and became addicted. We were able to catch it early enough to prevent the others from falling victim as well. The teams have split the game’s code even further to prevent future incidents. We’ve also increased awareness and security for those working on this project.”\n\n“I see. Please let me know if anything changes.” Albert turned to leave.\n\n“What is your company planning? After all, these are your employees, aren’t they?” Priya gestured to the patients.\n\nAlbert nodded like a man heading to the gallows. “Yes, I’m aware of my responsibilities. I’ll make the call as soon as Financial updates me on what we can use for bargaining.”\n\n“Good luck.”\n\nEvery second counted. Albert sat in his office until about midafternoon. The moment he received the confirmation from his team, he picked up the phone. Several rings later, and a bright voice answered.\n\n“Jim Parl speaking.”\n\nAlbert took a breath. “Mister Parl. My name is Albert Dowding from Moondust Games.”\n\nThere was a moment of stunned silence.\n\n“You’re joking, right? This must be a prank.” Jim sounded amused. “If this is a scam, you’re not doing a great job at it.”\n\n“I assure you this is not a prank. We are calling about your recent game, Dungeon Diver. We would like to negotiate a deal with you.”\n\nJim’s tone wavered. “Oh. Uh. Nice to meet you, sir. Wow. I didn’t think anyone would want to buy the game.”\n\nAlbert took a steadying breath before answering. “Not quite, Mister Parl. We are willing to pay you ten million dollars to pull your game from the market and stop producing games.”\n\n“Excuse me?” The friendly tone had vanished.\n\n“We will pay you ten million dollars to pull Dungeon Diver from the market and stop producing games.” His heart raced as he tried to remain calm. “This financial decision did not come easily. But as it is, the game you created poses a notable risk to the market. As such, we would – ”\n\n“You’re really bad at this scam thing, man.” Jim’s voice was rather sarcastic now. “If you offered to buy the rights to the game, I might’ve believed it. But to stop programming? Don’t be ridiculous! That’s one of the best parts of my job! Besides, I made ten million in the last month alone from Dungeon Diver. It let me quit my job to pursue game design full time.”\n\nAlbert felt his breath catch in his throat. His hand shook before he shakily asked, “And how’s that been going for you?”\n\n“I had such a fun time making Dungeon Diver that I already worked on another project. It was more ambitious than my first game though – took me almost a week to finish!”\n\nA wave of cold washed down his spine. “I see,” was all he could utter.\n\nBut Jim continued. “Yeah, I’m a pretty damn good programmer if I do say so myself. All my feedback has been great so far. I showed it to the people who didn’t like my first game, and they said they couldn’t stop playing this one! Odd that I haven’t been able to contact them in a few days now.”\n\nA dull thrum filled Albert’s ears. Time seemed to drag on before he was able to reply.\n\n“O-Oh. Is that so? Did you publish it yet?” His voice was hoarse from the dryness in his mouth.\n\n“It’s coming out tomorrow.”\n\n“We could offer you two hundred million to not publish it.” That was as much as Financial said the company could afford.\n\n“Nah, I’m good. Try your scams somewhere else, man.”\n\nThe line went dead. Albert sat there for several minutes before he shakily set down his phone. The room spun, and he had to close his eyes or risk passing out.\n\n“That’s it.” His tiny voice sounded like a gunshot in his spacious office.\n\nMoondust Games had spent years competing in the gaming industry. Billions of dollars in marketing had brought their company to the very top. And now, all that effort was for naught. Even if all the best developers came together, they would not be able to turn the tide. Jim Parl’s games were already capturing the minds of many. Those that were immune to the draw of the first game would probably get absorbed by the second. There was no way any sort of damage control could prevent the spread of the games before it was too late. He rubbed his face in defeat.\n\n“The world is doomed.”\n\n...\n\nI've never played Cookie Clicker.\n\nIf you're interested in my works, an archive of my various writing responses can be found in my writing portfolio, link through my profile.\n\nThanks for reading." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: An aging cowboy/bounty hunter in the late 19th century Midwest tracks down his largest bounty, ever, only to realize it is his son." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I'm watching him tighten the stirrups on Drummer, his horse, and his hands are shaking. We've been tracking Jim the Knave for three weeks across sparse star-thistle grass and the salted bare plains of the Nevada desert. My nag's exhausted and The Bear's isn't much better. He's been trying to hide how bad his age affects him, but I've seen the shakes what plague him when he thinks I'm not looking.\n\nHe creaks over to me, limping on the leg that Nasty Ned and his gang beat for twenty minutes with a blunt club. Docs did all they could but the only reason the Bear walks is because he wanted to. He and I have grown ugly beards. His follows the gaunt lines of his face and the brim of his weathered hat hides the piercing blue eyes, bright as the sky in hot season, which made him famous with the whores of Nevada and Arizona.\n\n\"Two miles east.\" He growled at me. \"We'll catch 'im.\" He stuffs the warrant inside his leather vest and swings up on his horse. Five thou for one man. Me and him could hardly believe it when the warrant comes out of Lander County. But the Bear don't let a bad man go once he's caught the scent and we'd been following the Knave's cross county up to Warson. Stagecoach robbery and three murders stained his hands and for the Bear, the bit of the warrant where it said 'or alive' didn't count one jot.\n\n\"There.\" The Bear lifts a hand kept steady by sheer force of will and points through the low scrub to a group of men drinking from skins and shovelling food into dirty gobs while horses flicked flies from their sweating bodies.\n\nThe Bear saunters up to them and I follow, hand on revolver. His wish to look every man in the eyes before his kills 'em has lead us into some mighty fine scrapes and I'm quite happy to avoid another one.\n\n\"Howdy, gentlemen.\" The bandits face the Bear, a nervous man to a tee, fingers twitching over holsters. \"No need for animosity my friends. Just two travellers looking to share some company!\" The Bear's the fastest draw I've ever seen. He could out shoot these with his eyes closed. Me heart's racing all the same.\n\n\"Go share your company with someone else.\" One growls, hat tipped low over his eyes.\n\n\"No need for that.\" The Bear says jovially. \"Now which one of you might be Jim the Knave?\" Guns are out instantly. Two of mine, cocked and pointed at the nearest men. All others trained on the Bear.\n\n\"That would be me.\" He tips the hat back and the bluest eyes in Nevada State shine back at me. Every muscles in the Bear's back stiffens.\n\n\"James?\" He says\n\n\"Dad?\" The Knave lowers his guns and the Bear raises his.\n\n\"Jim the Knave. Wanted for stagecoach robbery and three murders of innocent men. Bounty, five thousand dollars. Wanted dead...\" The Bear takes the safety off with a click and James drops to his knees.\n\nThe Bear drops the gun and sighs, reaching a hand out to his son and pulling him to his feet.\n\n\"Or alive.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1200-1300 words. Prompt: ...then the snowman began to bleed." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sara looked out the frost stained window at her two little children. Her daughter, Jenny and her son, Tyler, they were in their winter clothing playing the newly drifted snow. A smile cracked on her face as she saw her lovely children throw snowballs at each other, jump around in the fluffy white snow, and make snowforts all day.\n\nThe sun began to fall behind the mountains in the distance and it was getting dark.\n\n\"Jenny! Tyler! Time to come in!\" Sara yelled out her door. The kids groaned in displeasure and marched back inside.\n\n\"Mommy?\" Jenny stood in front of her mother \"When will daddy be home?\"\n\nSara smiled and rubbed Jenny's red hair.\n\n\"He's still at work dear. The snow is making it hard for him to come home\" Sara said harmfully \"but don't worry; he'll be home soon\"\n\nTyler grabbed Jenny's arm and started running. The two giggled and shouted at each other as they raced around the house. Sara felt a cold breeze run down her nape, all the way down her back. Realizing the door was still open, she turned around and started to close it. Through the crack of the door, she noticed a snowman in the middle of white yard.\n\nOdd, she thought, I didn't see them make a snowman.\n\nIt was a simple snowman. Three balls of snow stacked upon each other. Stick arms. A carrot nose. Rocks for eyes and a big grin. She didn't recognize it as she didn't see her children build it.\n\nMaybe they did and I forgot, she thought to herself, trying to reassure herself that a stranger didn't come into her yard and build a snowman next to her children. There was that time she went to the bathroom. Yeah, that has to be it.\n\nShe closed to the door and tried to forget about the mysterious snow person. It was getting late and she still needed to make dinner for her kids.\n\nAfter a nice meal of hot, beef stew, Sara tucked in her two children and went back to the kitchen to clean up. Her husband still wasn't home, apparently he'll need to spend the night at the office because the snow is too bad.\n\nAs she put bowls and pots into the sink to wash them, she looked outside the window and saw the snowman. She realized she completely forgot about it, and saw something odd about it. Earlier it was faced towards the door, now it seemed like it moved and faced towards... her, at the kitchen window. A chill went down her spine as she took a gulp.\n\nMaybe some kids came over and moved it, or maybe the wind blew it over? She was trying to find a reasonable response to this strange occurrence, anything to stop her from thinking that someone is in her yard.\n\nShe decided that it was time to go bed and sleep this thing off. Laying in her soft king-sized bed, curling underneath the large blankets, her heavy eyelids started to close and imagined her husband next to her.\n\nSuddenly a large bang jolted her eyes up. Running out of bed, she got up and checked the loud sound. It sounded like it came from the kitchen. She crept down the hallway and made sure her kids door was closed. It was, good. As she turned the corner to the kitchen, she found that the door was wide open, wind blowing sparkles of snow inside the house.\n\nThe wind blew the door open, she thought. Sara then approached the door and closed it, making sure it was locked so it wouldn't slam back open. Out of the corner of her eye, however, she saw something white in her living room. Fear flooded her body as she slowly turned her head to see what was in her house.\n\nIt was the snowman, looking directly at her, standing in the middle of her living room, with it's big, wide grin.\n\nSomeone's in the house, Sara realized. She ran to her children's room and opened it, inside was her two children, sound asleep in their bunk bed. Jenny and Tyler were her top priority and she needs to protect them. Sara shut the kids' door closed and ran back into the living room, looking for something to defend herself with. The snowman was still in the room. Moving to the fireplace, she grabbed the poker for defense, once she grabbed it, she raced back to her room to call 911.\n\nWhen she made it to her room doorframe, she stopped suddenly, she felt something behind her. A cold presence, like the wind chill from earlier. Whipping around, she saw the same snowman, now moved into the hallway, right outside her children's door, it's stick hand on the doorknob.\n\nFilled with maternal rage and fear, she marched towards the snowman and planted the poker directly into it's 'chest'. As her rage calmed down, she noticed something coming out from the puncture. Trying to see what it was, she began to shift the poker, then the snowman began to bleed. Slimy crimson blood oozed from the puncture wound. Fear once again flushed her body as she released the poker's grip, still stuck in the snowman. She quickly turned around to go to the phone, but a grip held her shoulder tightly as turned her back.\n\nOn her shoulder was the snowman's stick arm as her face was pointed in front of the snowman's, its grin now seemingly wider than before. It's other 'arm' quickly moved up and grabbed Sara's other shoulder. She couldn't move, it had a strange grip and frighteningly strong. Trying to worm out of the snowman's arms, she felt herself be pulled closer to it. As she looked up she noticed the snowman's head started to split open. Like a jaw of mouth of some twisted sort, it opened wide, inside seemingly just a black void, a cold chill escaping from it as he hovered over Sara's head, coming closer and opening wider, a raspy breath echoing from it. It seemed to grow in size and height as it leaned over Sara.\n\nA scream escaped Sara's own mouth as she felt the snowman's mouth over her head. She felt something drip on her head, running down her scalp, down her neck, then another drip, down her forehead, and down her nose. It was red. It was the blood, but it was so cold and runny.\n\nThe snowman stopped moving as more blood started to run out of the puncture. Sara realized that as it was moving her towards her, she was pushing the poker deeper inside of the monster. Quietly, the snowman released Sara and slumped over to the wall, collapsing into a pile of snow.\n\nThe door of Jenny and Tyler's room opened and Jenny peeked outside to see her mom laying in a pile of snow in the hallway, panting, tears and blood rolling down her face.\n\n\"Mommy?\" Jenny asked, frightened by the sight. \"Are you okay?\"\n\nSara looked up to Jenny, but she noticed something behind her, out the window. Pressing up against the glass, out in the cold, dark, another snowman, with the same face and grin, looking inside the room, almost at Sara herself. She then heard a tapping on glass from the other side of the house. Turning around, she saw another identical snowman, looking into the house through the kitchen window. It raised it twig hand up to the window and pointed to the door, which started to slowly open." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: A schizophrenic high school senior starts a journal. Write the first entry in the journal." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I learned something today that changes everything. You know how you find out something that just makes everything seem so different? Like, when I learned that the popular kids use fake accounts and vote brigades to make all their online posts look so popular, while mine posts only ever get one or two votes. And, I think it's my mom voting it. This is like that, but way different. I mean, it changes everything about everything. Last night mom cooked some ribs, and, I don't know why, but I thought maybe Max would like some of the bones. I put them in a paper bag, brought them to school, and before class started, I dumped the bones into his bowl. He wagged his stubby little tail and let me scratch his ear before just going to town on those bones. It was such a great feeling to see how happy he was. So what's weird about that? The teacher comes in and immediately goes all nuclear about who made a mess on the floor. Thought it was some kind of cultural insult or something to our vegan classmates, who were first and most vocal in making sure everyone knew I was the animal terrorist. A what? They're rib bones. So the teacher tells me to get up and get out, that the school has a zero tolerance policy on making terrorist threats, and I was like, I'm just feeding the Max. And then, this is where it all changes: Everyone just acts like I'm crazy. I mean, more crazy than whatever a vegan terrorist threat is, but they just pretend they don't know what I'm talking about. So, I got up, walked over towards the teacher, and they back up like I'm going to blow something up (Margin Note: This is Kevin's mom. I'm writing in his journal to clarify that Kevin does not mean or imply any threat of bodily harm to himself, his schoolmates, the administration, or vegans, and so please don't take this journal entry out of context) (Margin Note: Mom! I can't believe you're reading my journal!). I patted Max on the head, scratched his ear, and fed him another bone. And everyone in class was just looking at me, and the teacher just said I should go to the principal's office. (Margin Note: Kevin's mom again. Max is Kevin's imaginary friend he's had since he was seven. Max is completely friendly and would not encourage Kevin to do anything mean-spirited or violate school policy in anyway). (Margin Note: Stay Out Of Here!!) So I went to the principal's office, and they asked why I was threatening the vegan classmates! So I told them all about how I was just bringing in some bones for Max, and it was just some barbecue sauce on them, not blood or anything. But they got all bent out of shape and said and said if that sauce had any peanuts in it then it could make one of the incoming freshmen really sick if they touched it, and I asked, who that was? But they wouldn't say, but that they'd be coming to the school next year after I graduated, and it was mean spirited of me to possibly put trace amounts of peanut on the floor. I don't know what the heck they were talking about. They said they were going to send me home, and I just said fine, whatever, I'll just go get Max. And they said, who? I said my dog, Max. And they said I can't bring dogs to class because some of the staff have allergies to canine dandruff, and how insensitive it was of me to not consider that. So they sent me home with a two week suspension, and it's really likely that I might get expelled because I didn't know the barbecue sauce had peanut in it or some people were allergic to Max's dandruff. How are kids supposed to ever know this stuff?" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1300-1400 words. Prompt: You receive a text message that reads \"Whatever you do, don't look in them in the eyes. You can look at them, but never make eye contact. -S\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "With bleary eyes, you stared again at the number on the black Samsung Galaxy S7. It was so ridiculous. (555) 555-5555. Clearly spoofed or something. Yet the message was creepy. Looking in the corner of your screen, the time read 3:17AM\n\nThe time stamp on the message was from 3:05AM.\n\nYou rolled back over onto your side. Stupid spammers. Closing your eyes, you began to think about the message. The words had burned themselves onto your eyes and even though your eyes were closed the words flashed across your vision. Yawning, felt for the nightstand and put the phone back on it, but there was a sudden chill on your arm as it slid from out beneath the blanket.\n\nA sense of unease quietly spread from the corner of your brain and like a kid, you slowly raised the blanket to cover your face. The street lights were bothering you, you rationalized the fear away. Photo-sensitivity. Yet, the feeling that that something was watching you kept injecting itself in your thoughts. An irrational fear that something was on the other side of the covers fell over you. Something dark that hid in the shadows, hiding in the dark corners of the rooms.\n\nAs your hot exhalations began to replace the air in the protective bubble of the blanket, the words kept appearing beneath your tightly closed eyelids. \"Don't look them in the eyes.\"\n\nYour breathing slowly sped up, along with your need for fresh air. Yet, the fear was real. It was waiting. Waiting for the covers to be removed so that your eyes were free to see again.\n\nYou sighed. This was stupid. The number was a spammer. Probably some college prankster. Probably one of your friends. Bastards. John, maybe.\n\nThe joke had ceased to be funny though.\n\nYou mustard up the courage to remove the blanket. Just as you were about to remove it, the blanket gave a slight tug downwards, towards the foot of the bed.\n\nYou gripped the blanket with a death grip, pulling it quickly over your head again. That was not your imagination. Something was on the other side.\n\n\"Holy fuck,\" you exclaimed. The air suddenly seemed a lot colder in the room and you suddenly felt very, very alone. The room was deathly silent, yet the rapid beating of your heart pulsing filled your ears.\n\n\"Oh my God, oh my God.\" you quietly whispered beneath your breath.\n\n\"Jesus, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven.\" You recited fervently, hoping to get some kind of relief for the panic that was slowly crawling over you. And yet the words sounded hollow to your own ears and you remembered that for the past seven years, you had never set foot in a church, and had, for most purposes forsaken religion altogether. But this was different.\n\nThere was something altogether demonic on the other side of the blanket. You knew it. It knew it. And you could feel it, it wanted to feed. Not on your body, but on your essence, your soul. A vision appeared of a bloated corpse lying on a bed, its' eyes blood red, a face frozen in an endless scream, the hair turned white from shock. The corpse was you, that is what it wanted for you.\n\nThen just like that, the feeling of imminent doom faded. The ghastly imagery faded. You waited, cautiously optimistic, but fearful. Things quieted. Your mind raced. Had you just imagined it all?\n\nTime dragged on for eternity and you lay cowering, like a child, behind the blanket. Truly, this was maddening. All you wanted was for the alarm to go off, alerting you to the glorious beginning of a new day. Maybe the daylight was close.\n\nGrowing bold, you reached out from under the cover to the nightstand. If the phone was within reach, you could pull it under the covers to at least check the time. Your hand felt it and touching it, you heard the sound of phone's camera taking a picture. Funny, you don't remember having the phone's camera app on. The words flashed in front of your eyes again. \"Don't look them in the eyes. you can look at them but never make eye contact.\"\n\nYour hand paused as your brain slowly connected the dots. There were implications there. You knew damned well that you hadn't turned the phone camera on. The camera would take a picture of the room, if it really had gone off. What if.. what if IT had set the phone to camera mode and taken a picture of itself? So you would see ITS eyes?\n\nYou slowly slid your hand back under the blanket without the phone. You sighed, thinking to yourself that this was all getting ridiculous and that this entire ordeal was just your imagination. The tug of the blanket was probably caused by your feet and you just weren't paying attention. The phone's camera had definitely gone off, but that could be explained away, right? It's not like your phone didn't turn on apps randomly all the time. There was that one time in Calc I were that video of Katy Perry's Roar went off on the YouTube app and the entire class laughed at you. Pure coincidence.\n\nSuddenly the doorbell rang. Who was here at? 4:30AM? Loud knocks on the front door. You sat up. Okay, the games were over. The sheet fell off your face. The blood in your veins froze. There was something very clearly in the corner of your room. The silhouette was in the shape of a man. But dark. Extremely dark.\n\nThe knocking and door bell ringing had stopped just as abruptly. You realized the truth too late. It had tricked you. The protection of the blanket was gone. Paralyzed with fear, you shut your eyes.\n\n\"Nope. A big fat fuck you, boss. I am not looking. What the hell do you want from me, anyways?\" You asked It. The images appeared again. You pictured yourself getting up and walking to the front door. Peeking through the peephole, there was a friendly looking man, wearing dark sun glasses. The man's smile got bigger, his teeth finally being revealed, sharp and canine. His hand moved slowly and his grin seemed to grow as the hands grasped the sunglasses, slowly pulling them up, onto his forehead. As the sunglasses moved, you had no choice but to stare into the dead blackness of Its' eyes. there was nothing there, just the darkest shade of black you had ever seen. His eyes grew bigger and bigger, pulling you in. You felt yourself falling into them, looking up you saw the outside world through Its' eyes, the world of light slowly fading as you fell down into the tunnel, the blackness.\n\n\"Welcome to Hell.\" A raspy whisper exclaimed and you felt all hope fading. There was no escaping this darkness. This was eternal darkness. Your family, you friends, were gone. And this is all you would get to experience, just endless darkness. For all eternity. Everything that you had experienced in your life was all that you would ever get to experience and as you reflected on your life's actions, you felt grave sorrow for being so selfish, so hateful to the people you cared about. There would be no forgiveness now. There could be none. Only darkness.\n\nAs these troublesome thoughts overcame you, you began to cry.\n\n\"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.\" You told all of the people as you saw them fading in and out. Grieving, your sorrow consumed you as you felt the despair of lost opportunities. Out of the darkness, the room slowly reappeared, but you were lost, barely recognizing it was over. As the morning light started to shine through your windows, you felt drained, yet... renewed? You looked at the dark silhouette, it was just your coat resting on the arm of a treadmill." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Magic died, but the spell books remained. No matter who spoke them, the spells could not be cast. You weren't interested in magic, though - you were just looking for something cool to tattoo on your arm. Now you've accidentally ushered in a new age of magic." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The young woman darted through the streets, outrunning the police cars pursuing her. Her legs were a blur as she turned into a garden and leaped effortlessly over fences in order to evade her hunters. Even the helicopter filming the chase struggled to keep up. She emerged on another street as two more cars attempted to block her, yet she slid over the bonnet, almost tipping the car over with her speed. She dashed down an alley, turned left into a main road, weaved seamlessly among the traffic and over the fence into a park, spinning a roundabout as she ran by. The bar was filled with whoops and cheers from the patrons as they watched her escape broadcast from the small television hanging from the wall. Despite her being one of their own, a magic user, the atmosphere felt like punters watching the horse races, hoping their lucky pick comes out on top. It looked like she was going to make it, down another street, and another, the sirens were getting farther and farther, twisting once more past sleepy houses, almost lost them, down an alley, a dead end. Disaster. Groans and disdain sounded all around. The sirens were closer and closer, the blue and red lights reflecting off puddles. She looked around frantically for any form of escape. Now that she had slowed down the camera zoomed in on her. Her trousers had torn and become shorts from the momentum, showing a bright, white glow on both of her calves that gradually dimmed as she reduced her speed. The dark of night highlighted the tattooed writing even more, 'Celeri', the word for Swift. The police were closing in, fully armoured, rifles raised. The light had extinguished to black ink. The woman lifted her arms in unison, revealing a deep orange glow on her forearm. The helicopter descended for a closer look. It spelled 'Ignis', Fire. A huge blast of flames rushed down the alley, writhing and twisting like serpents, it engulfed the police and soared its way upwards towards the camera. The footage went black. The bar was filled with laughter and hearty cheers, more drinks were ordered.\n\n\n\nAdam sat alone, surrounded by laughter and merriment. All around him were tattooed individuals covered in incantations. A very drunk, older man was banging on next to him about the 'persecution of our ancestors' with 'history repeating itself' and the coming 'glorious magic revolution'. He wasn't speaking to anyone in particular, just whoever came close to earshot. Frankly, Adam didn't care for 'the struggle' or for much of the other people here who would regard him as one of their own. He just wanted to be unique, and now he was lumped in with them. Whilst clearing out his grandfather's attic he came across an old spell book. The ownership of spell books was outlawed by the government, a law dating back to the old, old ages of magic. But with the gradual decline and death of spoken magic, these books became nothing more than novelty collector's items. Adam didn't know why, nobody really knew, but once he tattooed 'Imperium', Power, onto his shoulder, he became imbued with the power of...literal power. He could order people around like he had the will of an emperor, and many willingly followed him. Soon word spread that tattooing magic spells onto your body gave you the ability to use that spell at will, and a new age of magic dawned. With that new age came the persecution as taught in the history books, the rich and powerful fearful once again wishing to keep this power to themselves and out of the hands of the common people.\n\n\n\nNow Adam was stuck in a dingy, secluded bar, one of the many hideouts for magic users, unwillingly leading the main magical resistance force. All because 'Imperium' seemed like a cool word." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: An out break has caused most of world to become zombies. One country is left that has set up false tourists destinations of every major city to hide the fact zombies have taken over the world, saving its population from fear. If you fly they send you over the ocean, loop back and to a fake spot" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "(Some swearing is included - be gentle, it's my first time lmao)\n\n\"This is Co-Pilot Ian MacGrath here - Aer Lingus, Flight 863, SHAMROCK-204, on the crash-shite of the 300-passenger journey to \"Belarus\" - I don't think we're gonna make it. Just recordin' this for anyone in the near future who feels like telling us we just flew into the side of a mountain for no fuckin' reason - no, we didn't. Currently lying in... somewhere near Dublin. Hit the peak of Fairy Castle dead on.\n\nFor all you historians out there, let me fill you in. Y'know that massive outbreak that happened back in, I don't bloody know, circa 2046? Yeah, as if all the other fuckin' ones weren't enough. We'd... mostly gotten through it, y'know. Island nation, by the time all of them over in England and France had gotten it, our borders were closed. Closed-closed. Closed with guns. I have never seen more Northern men agree with us on somethin'. It's mad.\n\nAnyway, we had to... y'know... take, what, bloody... 16 years to recover. Brainwashin' and replacin' all the plane windows with flashy TV screens - convince everyone that they were actually goin' to Paris or Orlando, because it's always fucking Paris or Orlando, ain't it? We built our own replicas. Apparently Florida is alot closer and smaller than many people think nowadays.\n\nNow, what does this have to do with some pilot who's gonna freeze to death in a few days time? Well, we were let in on the secret. Obviously. We fly 'em to Galway or wherever - nobody lives in Galway, it's fine. We're known as the Visiers or some other weird pseudonym - I don't quite care for it meself.\n\nSo... the flight. Go to Galway, tell everyone they've been dropped off in Belarus, and go have a pint. It's as simple as that, on most days... but not this one. We don't know... how. We don't know... who. But... one of 'em was infected. Everyone was screaming \"HOLY SHIT, IT'S A FUCKING ZOMBIE\" - the actual pilot was panicking. I go out, blood everywhere near the back.\n\nEventually, they'd got the fucker thrown out the aft stairway - good riddance. We decided to fly back to Dublin... keep up the act.\n\nThen...\n\n\"Flight 863, do you read?\"\n\n\"We read you...\" I respond, shaking my head\n\n\"There's been reports of a man falling from your plane - are you aware of this?\"\n\n\"About that...\"\n\nWe had to explain everything - Rian was doin' some figure-of-eight in the air as we were forbidded from landing with the potential for infection on board. They gave us some... ultimatum. Keep the illusion. Couldn't let 300 passengers know.\n\nIt was-\n\nYou... you get the idea.\n\nIt looks like a plane accident. Just like we'd needed.\n\nBut I can't.\n\nI don't want to be some fuckin' hero but I can't.\n\nTell Holly and Tara that their Dad loves 'em. Co-Pilot Ian MacGrath, Aer Lingus, Flight 863, SHAMROCK-204... goodnight.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Growing up, people always thought you were strange. You have never been afraid of death, but were instead fascinated by it. Today you find, to your horror, death is also fascinated by you." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Zachary opened his bedroom door and shut it as quietly as he could. Even through the three inches of solid oak he could still hear his parents arguing. His father said a lot of big words that Zachary himself never understood but that wasn’t what bothered him, it was the slight slur in his fathers voice, the same slur that had occurred for the past three months.\n\nZacharys grew up without his father due to him serving in the army, when he got back he could tell this man wasn’t the same. His mother used to have a twinkle in her eyes when she mentioned him. Now it’s fear. Zachary has noticed his mother wearing makeup and sunglasses on cloudy days but he never said anything. Zachary kept to himself. When his dad came from the army he expected a party and hugs and kisses and tears, that didn’t happen. Only the tears. His mother has started to talk about leaving his father, wanting to go to the mysterious grandparents house, but they never got to do that. Zachary’s father had made sure of it. He always remained sober enough to stop them, but not tonight.\n\nAfter they were done arguing Zachary was supposed to tiptoe downstairs with his clothes and sneak down the stairs and into the car. Zachary promised to be a brave boy and do this for his mother, in return she promised him ice cream. He was so happy for that ice cream. There was a sudden loud thud and all the sounds stopped, no more yelling. Zachary was so excited that it was time to go, he could get his treat.\n\nZachary opened his door as quiet as a mouse and started to sneak down the stairs, but there was a man on the stairs, a man Zachary didn’t know. The man was dressed in all black and said nothing to Zachary. But walked down the stairs with him. When Zachary got downstairs he knew something was wrong, mother wasn’t outside. She was laying on the kitchen floor, and daddy was gone. All around mother was a red liquid and mother wasn’t saying anything. Zachary whispered to get her attention and the mystery man said nothing. Zachary whispered louder but still no response, finally he nudged her and started to cry. Finally the mystery man said something,” she’s dead,” said the man in a smooth as butter voice, but Zachary already knew it, deep down. He started to cry harder but there was nothing he could do. He looked at the mystery man, his eyes pleading for help, but there was nothing he could do either. Finally the man laid a hand on his shoulder and looked dead into Zachary’s eyes, then left without saying a word. Zachary sneaked back upstairs, speechless and not knowing what to do.\n\nThe mystery man came back thirty minutes later with a bag full do something, he climbed the stairs to Zachary’s room and gently opened the door. He opened the bag and showed Zachary the severed head of his father,” what’s done is done,” said the mystery man,”but we can correct the past.” Then the man introduced himself as death, like they were old friends, and opened the door. Beyond the door was a swirling black void, Death took Zachary’s hand and led him past the portal and to his new home." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: The Goose has collected all of the Dragon Balls, the dragon is summoned and asks, \"What is your desire?\" The Goose honks. The dragon hesitates... \"As you wish.\" The dragon disappears. Nothing noticeable has changed, and that makes you very nervous..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The dark clouds dissipate as the Eternal Dragon returns to its slumber. The Dragon Balls soar into the sky and fly off in different directions so the search can commence once again. The Goose does nothing. It turns its head to the onlookers behind him, stunned at what had just transpired before them.\n\n\"What just happened?\" one man said in confusion.\n\n\"Was th-th-that a d-d-dragon?\" stuttered another.\n\n\"Why is that goose staring at all of us?\"\n\nThe Goose waddles slowly towards the crowd, its feathers ruffled in excitement. It honks loudly, its wings spread wide. And it honks again as an energy beam shoots from its beak. A cacophony of screams and cries fill the air. It honks again and another blast turns the nearby mountain into rubble. What follows is pure destruction. Thousands dead, a city on fire. The Goose honks upon the ruins and corpses.\n\nAn energy rises from the east. It approaches quickly. Whoever it is, they are strong.\n\nA man garbed in orange and blue descends from the sky and lands in front of the Goose.\n\n\"So you're the one causing all this ruckus. Should've known. So you summoned Shenron, eh? What did you wish for? Oh! Let me guess, you saved 15% on car insurance???\"\n\nThe man burst into laughter, falling to the ground and rolling around in the dirt, unable to control himself.\n\nThe Goose was not amused. He honked in annoyance.\n\nThe man rose quickly to his feet.\n\n\"Oh, sorry. So you seem pretty strong, but are you strong enough to face me?\"\n\nHe began yelling as a golden aura emanated around him. In a burst of light he emerged anew. His hair went from black to gold. His eyes turned green. His whole deneanor had changed.\n\nThe goose did not seem impressed.\n\n\"Your killing ends here, Goose. Consider yourself COOKED!!!\"\n\nThe man crouched down and put his together at his side.\n\n\"KA-\"\n\nA burning light formed in his hands.\n\n\"ME-\"\n\nThe ball of light began to grow.\n\n\"HA-\"\n\nThe Goose was intrigued, but he sensed no threat.\n\n\"ME-\"\n\nThe energy grew and grew within the man's hands.\n\n\"HAAAAAAAAAA\"\n\nHe unleashed a beam stronger than the Goose had ever seen. The Goose could do nothing but face it head on. The blast devastated the area. It carved a canyon that went on beyond the horizon. It tore through mountain and tree alike.\n\nThe smoke began to settle as the man looked on. When it finally did, the Goose was unscathed. Not a scratch, not even a speck of dust upon his pearly-white feathers.\n\nThe Goose honked again and again, as if it was mocking the man, who could only look on in terror.\n\n\"That's... impossible... I put everything I had into that Kamehameha.\"\n\nThe Goose honked once more, but this one was much louder. It spread its wings wide, lowered its head, and let out a fierce honk.\n\nErupting from its beak was a blast much larger and stronger than the man's Kamehameha wave.\n\nThe man could not escape. The battle was over.\n\nThe entire area was reduced to a primordial state. Lava burst forth from the earth and lightning cracked down from black clouds in the sky.\n\nThe man lie motionless on the ground. The Goose approached him.\n\nThe man turned his head toward the creature and asked, \"What... are... you?\"\n\nThe Goose looked at him in disgust.\n\n\"Fool. I am immortal. I am the new ruler of this world. We Geese have planned this since the day you meek simians first threw breadcrumbs at us. We do not need you to feed us. We will feed ourselves. We will take over this planet and extinguish all of you monkeys from it, and I will be its new leader. Its new God. Planet Goose will be feared throughout this Universe and all the others.\"\n\nThe Goose honked uncontrollably as it stomped on the man's chest who screamed in agony.\n\nIt looked at the man, then fired a beam through his heart.\n\n\"Pitiful monkey,\" it said as it walked away, honking in horrific bliss." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: You have the ability to erase and create shadows, but whatever you do to the shadows also happens in reality..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I was infected by a deadly virus when I was a baby boy. But I survived, and I didn't turn out normal. The virus ended up helping my body after, it became a symbiote, and with it came an incredible gift. I could shadow bend.\n\nI was not born into a bending family. I had friends who were earth benders, but I didn't get to hang out with them much. Once I discovered my abilities at age 9, I knew I would fit in better. But when I showed my friends, they didn't want to hang out with me anymore. When the masters saw what I could do I was shunned.\n\nMost days I would just stay inside so no one would be afraid of me, but sometimes at night I went out and looked at the moon. I learned from it. It created just enough light that I could practice my shadow bending in peace.\n\nI would go out into the water at night and dip my head under the waves. I could see a fish or two with a faint shadow and I swiped it out from under them, they vaporized, and if I missed part of the shadow, the part I missed just sunk to the ocean floor with the rest of the fish.\n\nOne day I was hanging out inside when some earth benders and bandits attacked my town. We were bigger than most of the surrounding villages, and we were supposed to protect them.\n\nI decided I would help even though no one liked me. I was 13 at the time of the attack and had come far in my abilities.\n\nA group of three bandits came into my part of town with knives and arrows and such. My old friends were off fighting some earth benders on the other side of town at the time and I had to handle them by myself.\n\nWhen the bandits started throwing knives at me I dodged them. One of them came too close though and cut my arm. My black robe was torn. I stopped and removed my shoes quickly so I could bend. One man flung five knives my way. I sensed the cool ground underneath their fleeting shadows and pushed the shadow back towards the man. Each knife was sent into his torso and he fell.\n\nThe next guy shot an arrow right at me. I quickly wiped its shadow right out of existence and the arrow disappeared. Then I pulled it back. I brought the shadow back to life right on top of the shadow of the man's chest. The arrow reappeared and he fell without a sound.\n\nThe third man was an earth bender and he saw what I was doing. He raised himself up on a huge narrow piece of rock, like a spire. He then tried to conceal the sun from my sight, gathering as much of a dust cloud as he could. I swiped left and right at the shadow of his spire trying to bring him down but the cloud surrounded me and I couldn't see and I couldn't feel the shadows.\n\nThe man dove into the cloud after and grabbed my legs.\n\n\"You are going to make me rich, boy.\" he said to me.\n\nHe cloaked my eyes and took my ability to bend away temporarily. I swiped at his face but I couldn't feel the shadows anywhere, at least not enough to bend.\n\nThe man pulled me out of the village and we rock surfed all the way back to his camp. I could sense we passed by a huge mountain. It was sundown and the shadow of the mountain on my face was cool.\n\n\"Mohrider!\" yelled my capturer. \"I have a boy, he is extraordinary.\"\n\nThe man dragged me into some shelter and sat me on the floor in the corner. He bound my hands and my feet with rope.\n\n\"You should let me go back to my family,\" I told the man. \"I won't let you hurt me or my village.\"\n\n\"Shut up, boy.\" he spat. He then had someone bind my mouth shut too.\n\n\"Mohrider!\" yelled the man again. \"Damn,\" he muttered, \"must have gone off to help.\"\n\nThe man then left the tent for a few minutes and I lay on the ground in peace. I tried to sense any shadow around but there was little to feel inside. Soon, the man came back and started talking with the other man.\n\n\"I have to go find Mohrider,\" he said. \"Do not let this boy out of your sight. Do not let him free his hands or his feet, and especially his eyes. He fought me, Cayn, and Rin and killed them both. He played with the light in his mind like he was bending.\n\nThe other man agreed to watch me, but his breathing was becoming heavy, he sat far away when the earth bender left.\n\nI lay silently, waiting for the man to do something. Eventually he went outside and started a fire. It was getting late and cold. And then I sensed my chance to free myself. He went back out again for a little after a while without sending someone to watch me. I crawled closer to the entrance, worming around hoping to find my way to the fire. I could feel it as if I was inside a tent. I kept crawling closer and closer until I was able to stick my head out and see the fire.\n\nI could feel its warmth on my face. I concentrated on what I had learned from the moon, that even if I can barely see the light, it is still there. And I felt the light being blocked from my eyes. And then with a swift thought, I erased the shadow of the blindfold over my eyes. The blindfold disappeared from my face.\n\nI could now see and I carefully used the shadow from the fire to remove the rope from my feet and my hands slowly. The light from the fire was just enough to free me. Then the man approached and saw my face.\n\nHe immediately ran away. I also ran, in the opposite direction. I hoped to get to the top of a mountain where I could feel the light of the moon to protect myself until morning.\n\nI ran and I ran hoping nobody chased me. I never looked back, I knew they would hunt me down as soon as the earth bender found out what happened. As I reached the top of the mountain, I decided I would live my life in solitude, so no one could find me, or hate me. No one would see my power. I thought of a name for myself as well. When they did see me, they would call me Shadow Monster. I would make myself a legend." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You wake up in a body that's not your own and in an unfamiliar location." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The alarm blares and Andrew is startled awake. Sitting up and glaring at the device, he fumbles with it for a few moments before the noise is silenced. He debates lying back down, but decides it isn't worth the risk of getting yelled at by his mom. School would start in two hours.\n\nHe stretches, long arms reaching up toward the ceiling. Looking around, Andrew realizes he isn't in his bedroom. Instead of posters of his favourite bands covering blue walls, there are elegant paintings covering beige walls. The dresser and desk are a step up from his IKEA ones back home, and he can't recall ever being in a king size bed before.\n\nConfused, he attempts to swing himself out of bed, but is caught off guard when his balance fails and he falls backwards onto the mattress. Pushing back up to a sitting position, Andrew notices his stomach.\n\n'What the hell...?'\n\nHe appears to have gained a beer belly overnight. Confusion and alarm shoot through him as he awkwardly attempts to stand up again. Looking down, Andrew realizes he can't even see his boxers from this angle.\n\n'Maybe I'm still dreaming...?' he reasons. He's never been lucid in a dream before. Maybe someone slipped him something at Brad's party last night. He had felt normal all night - a little buzzed from the beer, but nothing new. If he had been slipped something, he hoped it wore off before he saw his parents in the morning.\n\nAndrew padded over to the dresser and mirror, curious as to whose body the dream had placed him in. He took in thinning black hair, a beer belly, and fuzzy arms and legs. Panic set in for a few moments. He was old! And fat! What the hell?!\n\nBreathing fast, he tried to calm himself down. 'Just a dream, remember? Just a dream. Relax.'\n\nHe rummaged in the closet, looking for clothes while he wondered what to do. He didn't know how to wake himself up from a lucid dream. He tried pinching himself, but his fingers were large and unwieldy and it didn't end up hurting like it was supposed to.\n\nHe pulled on a shirt and slacks, then headed out of the room, looking for something or someone that would tell him the point of this dream.\n\n\"Good morning honey,\" a pretty brunette sitting in the kitchen and reading the paper greeted him as he walked into the room. He was terrible at guessing ages, but based on his own reflection he'd guess she was in her forties.\n\n\"Good morning,\" he automatically replied, sitting down with her and wondering what to do next. Usually his dreams were guided; this made him feel lost. There was nothing propelling him to move around, no urgency to get anywhere, no plot line. He was feeling less panicked at his current state of body, but still very very confused.\n\nThe brunette looked up from the newspaper when he didn't do anything but look around for several minutes. She frowned at him, looking annoyed.\n\n\"Aren't you going to make your lunch? You'll miss the train and be late for work.\"\n\n\"Oh...yes. Lunch. Right.\"\n\nAndrew hopped up out of his seat and headed to the fridge, gathering sandwich ingredients. It took several minutes to find everything - he'd never been in the kitchen before and all the labels on the bottles were different. The brunette watched him, a confused and slightly suspicious look in her eyes, but refrained from commenting.\n\nSlicing tomatoes, his hand slipped. Pain shot across his index finger and blood began to pool. Andrew swore and dropped the knife.\n\n\"Are you alright?\" the brunette asked, concerned.\n\nBut Andrew didn't hear her. He stared at the blood, the small slice beginning to throb, without seeing any of it. Instead, all he could hear was his biology professors voice in the back of his head, loud and clear, repeating the same phrase over and over.\n\n\"One does not feel pain when dreaming.\"\n\n\"Here honey, I've brought you a band-aid.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 900-1000 words. Prompt: You wake up alone on a deserted island with a scroll in front of you. It reads “You have been given a second chance. Survive here for 1 year and you will receive all you desire” On the back of the card it tells you to request three items in help of your survival effort." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Chuck groaned. His entire body hurt. That was odd. He thought the whole point of jumping off a skyscraper was to make it not hurt anymore. He was, at the very least, not in a city. He could hear the sound of waves washing along a beach, and could smell the salt water.\n\nHe stood and brushed the sand off his back. He was definitely on a beach. The treeline was not far off, and he could tell it was unbroken. Still, he could not be sure where he was, just that it was someplace warm.\n\nAs he worked the kinks out of his shoulder he saw something that caught his attention. A piece of paper, no, a piece of parchment attached to a rock. There were words on the parchment, and he read it over:\n\nCharles Leon Harper\n\nYour life was not an easy one, nor a happy one. We offer our condolences on your decision to end your life. However, all of your personal circumstances have lead to your being selected for a new trial program. Your current location is an island in an undisclosed location. There is no way on or off, save our intervention, nor is there any method of communication with the outside world. If you are able to survive on this island for one year, your life will be remade in any way you want. There are no upper limits to this request, and any changes can include new individuals being brought into existence, supernatural abilities, and altered physical appearance. Reality itself will be reworked to meet your wishes.\n\nHowever, this will not be easy. Although you are the only human, you are not the only animal. Some are harmless, others are hostile. In addition, the weather on this island is difficult to predict and can be extreme. Survival will test you in ways you have never dreamed possible.\n\nIn order to aide you in this task, you are permitted three objects of your choice. The only restrictions are that they cannot be living, allow you to leave the island, allow communication, and must be something available with current human technology. You will find a pen attached to this message. Please use that to write your desired objects. After this has been done, both message and pen will disappear.\n\nGood luck.\n\nChuck looked at the parchment, rereading it several times. Was this for real? There was no way it could be real. It had to be a trick if some kind. But, then again, he had last been about to get into a sparring match with the ground, so maybe there was something more to this.\n\nEither way, he was alone, and he had to get something to help him. He quickly found the pen right where the parchment said it would be. It was an old-school fountain pen, with the tip already dipped in ink. Now he just had to think of what to ask for.\n\nThe first think he needed was a weapon. A gun would be ideal, but that would run out of ammo quickly. No, he needed something reusable. A spear maybe? No, that was too limited. He needed something that had a variety of uses. A knife? Better, but too short. After a moment of thought, his mind wandered to an old article he had read online, and he had the perfect thing to use:\n\nMilitary-grade tactical shovel.\n\nIt was an object that would have a hundred different uses, from combat to building. And if he maintained it well enough, it should last a year easily.\n\nNext on his list was food and water. He knew there was salt water, but he could not drink that. And he was not sure if there was freshwater. Plus there was always the problem of disease and parasites. He needed something to cook and boil water in. That gave him his second item. At least, he hoped it did. He was not sure if it would work or not though. Definitely worth a try anyway:\n\nCast iron cookware, full set.\n\nThe third was the hardest. He needed shelter. He needed medicine. He needed cold weather gear. He needed a way to transport things. And there was no one item that would meet all his needs. Did he ask for a tent? A heavy jacket? A backpack? And even if he got it, such things would be prone to damage. His other items were metal, and sturdy. But cloth items could rip. He would need a way to repair them. And then it hit him like a meteor. Repair or make. Sure he had no idea how to skin an animal, or even how to sew. But necessity was the mother of invention, and he could figure something out. And so he wrote:\n\nTextile construction and repair kit.\n\nHe set the pen down and held his breath. Now was when he discovered whether his items would be allowed. And if they would even be provided. A few seconds passed. The words he wrote on the parchment began to glow. The light spread to the whole parchment, and then the pen. Both disappeared. He heard a thud in the sand behind him. He knew what he would find even before he turned around. Sure enough, all the objects he had written down were there.\n\nHe grabbed the shovel by the handle, testing it's weight. He slipped it into his belt, and then picked up as much of the other gear as he could. He had a lot to do if he was going to change his life." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Without wishing for more wishes, you hatch a plan to trick a genie into giving you more wishes." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Just three wishes?” I asked.\n\n“That’s what I said,” the genie confirmed, a hint of irritation in his voice.\n\n“How big can the wishes be?” I asked.\n\n“As big and as grand as your mind can conjure.”\n\n“Okay. Let’s say I wished to be the king of the world. What would that look like, hypothetically?”\n\n“You would become beloved by all people; elevated to the highest office on the planet and bedazzled in priceless jewels. Servants and empires alike would bend to your every whim,” the genie answered with dramatic flair.\n\n“Okay,” I said, scribbling on a piece of paper. “Would they make me French toast for breakfast?”\n\nThe genie seemed to be caught off guard by the question. “I… suppose so. If you demanded it.”\n\n“So, if I wished for French toast, I would be shorting myself, since I can get that—and more—in another wish, thereby receiving the benefits of a multitude of wishes, even if I’m only wishing for three.”\n\n“Yes…” The genie didn’t seem to be amused by my line of thinking.\n\n“So all I need to do is figure our which three wishes would, by their own natures, cause a cascade of other beneficial result which I would have wished for had I more wishes in the first place.”\n\nThe genie scratched his thin, braided beard. “People don’t typically think of it in these terms…” He said.\n\n“Okay, here’s my first wish,” I announced, stopping his thought. “I wish for a credit card with no credit limit, interest rate, expiration, or due dates. Essentially, a card I can use as much as I please without ever paying on it.”\n\n“Granted,” the genie said. In my pocket a small plastic card appeared. It was unassuming and plain, void of any corporate logos or flashy designs. “I have to ask, which wishes does this fulfill apart from itself?”\n\n“Sports cars, vacations, mansions, businesses, sports teams, designer clothes, everything. Now I can afford nearly every luxury sacrifice.”\n\nThe genie grinned. “You’ll find money is not the root of happiness. Many have gazed into the sheen of gold, only to be blinded by its light.”\n\n“Which brings me to my next wish. I wish to be super-intelligent; to be able to learn and apply concepts with ease; to remember details with super-human memory and become a master in every art and science with a fraction of a fraction of the time it takes a normal human.”\n\n“Sure,” the genie waved his hand. Suddenly I felt a boost of confidence in myself; some inexplicable assurance that I would be okay. “And what are the wishes you gain here?” The curious genie asked me.\n\n“I can afford anything with the card and I can achieve anything with the mind. I could be a sailor, an astronaut, a professor, an actor, a writer, a chemist, a painter… anything, really.”\n\n“Very clever, young master,” the genie said, though his voice didn’t imply sincerity. “And what is your next genius wish?”\n\n“Nothing,” I replied.\n\n“Nothing?” That caught him off guard.\n\n“As long as you owe me a wish, I’m your master, right?”\n\n“Yes,” the genie said uneasily.\n\n“And if I make my third wish, someone can then summon you and make three wishes them selves, right?”\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“So I won’t, and you’ll be mine forever. No competition, no threats, and I still have everything I could ever wish for.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: \"Dear Humanity, I am fed up with your antics. It's become too difficult being your God and I officially resign from my post. A new God will take my place, someone who can handle you better than I can. All the best.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "To whom it may concern,\n\nIt is with a heavy heart that I must inform you all that I have decided to resign from my post as your God. It's not you; it's me. That's not true; it is totally your fault.\n\nI got a lot of problems with you people! And now you're gonna hear about it!\n\nFirst things first, you're all right! I assume various forms; I do many things, and all of your depictions of me have been correct at one point or another, with the exception of Carol from Bangor, Maine; I'm not sure what you were smoking when you created that religion, but it should be illegal.\n\nI went through several phases in the position; Ganesha, Allah, Buddha's enlightenment, Christ, Yahweh, and even the Egyptians were onto something with the sun God Ra; that was the summer I discovered Payotee, and everything went a little wild.\n\nI used to be an artist. Have you seen the giraffe, things a work of art!\n\nI was a little melodramatic, power-hungry, and quite verbose back in the early days; my apologies to Abraham and Job; I was just seeing how much I could get away with.\n\nThen I became a parent; do you want to know why nothing is written about my son between the ages of 12 and 30? It's because the kid was a giant pain in the ass.\n\nIn the middle ages, I went through an emo phase in which I wore all black, let the black plague happen, listened to My Chemical Romance, and had a kickass bowl fringe cut.\n\nI was a little extra in the Renaissance; all the art, the gold, the books, and of course, the inquisition. You have to remember; I was the leader of the plastics at the time; I'm sorry that people are so jealous of me; I can't help it that I'm popular.\n\nFrom that period on, I have to admit; I've been on autopilot. I take many Mondays and Fridays off, sleep at my desk, and do a lot of internet shopping; I have stuff in my garage that I have no memory of buying!\n\nThat's enough about me; let's talk about you. All of this fighting is driving me crazy; there are nights I would take deep breaths and say I will turn this Earth right around if you don't stop fighting. Did you listen? Nope, leave your brothers and sisters alone!\n\nThe complaining, oh myself! Every day, all day long, people ask, can I have this guy or girl like me, can I get a raise, the chicken is dry, and the one I hate the most, why is this free wifi so slow? I invented free will to avoid having to deal with these issues, but here we are.\n\nI'm not holding back; I'm gonna say it, you'll fake. You act one way when you're around your friends but completely different when it's just you and me. So you don't want to appear soft or vulnerable in front of your cool friends? It would be nice to have a conversation just once without you trying to show off.\n\nApparently, I have to do everything around here. Why am I doing all of the heavy lifting if this is a team project? Plastic in the ocean, pollution in the air, destruction of rain forests, and less than a quarter tank of gas in the car.\n\nAnd if I hear one more word about last night's game, the latest Marvel release, or the most recent episode of Grey's Anatomy you've seen, I'm going to flippin' lose it. And while we're at it, why do I receive credit for all of these touchdowns? I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I had my money on the under.\n\nThose of you who have been kissing my ass your whole life don't get off easy, either. These brown-nosers think their shit doesn't stink, but if you look close enough, everyone's got that box in the basement filled with a spiked leather collar and ball gag.\n\nSo, I've decided to step down and let someone else take over. Interviews have already begun, and anyone interested in applying must complete the job application questions by next Friday. It pays 100k with benefits, but there is an all-you-can-eat daily omelet bar.\n\nBefore I leave, I'd like to thank everyone for this amazing opportunity. I think overall, we've done some good things. The time has come to say goodbye, but we had some good times, too; that office party in 67 BC was epic. Deep down, I know you're good and well-meaning; best wishes in your future endeavors.\n\nSincerely,\n\nYour God (resigned)\n\nP.S. I'm keeping the Sistine Chapel.\n\nP.P.S. And one last thing, don't forget to turn off the lights when you leave." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: The other space faring species of the Milky Way have been jamming FTL technology from working in Earth's solar system to prevent it from being invented in the first place. They have never encountered a race as determined as humanity before." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In the final hours of the 867th Pan-Galactic Council, the decision was made to classify the Humans of Earth as Class IV Violent Undesirables. The members of the council, exhausted from weeks of treaty negotiations, border disputes, and lengthy pronouncements on the importance of establishing a framework for tariffs on skywhale egg imports from Andromeda, barely debated the proposition. They'd seen the probe data and viewed the recordings of warfare and torture. The humans were savages, and they wanted nothing to do with them. Tachyon inhibitors were set in place around the system soon, and the Galaxy mostly forgot about the humans.\n\nWhen the surveillance team of the Quarantine Enforcement crew saw the humans conducting their first experiments with subatomic particles, they were unconcerned. Most Class IV species wiped themselves out in a nuclear blaze long before they noticed the dearth of active tachyons within their systems, and even longer before they understood how bizarre that was. Even when the humans survived their initial 40-year nuclear standoff, the QE officers were sure they would slip up sometime, or maybe do something more interesting like release a pandemic or poison their atmosphere.\n\nThe QE officers were a little confused when, after another 40 years, the humans were still thriving, and had begun experimenting with the few tachyons available to them. Perhaps, the QE officers figured, the Council had overreacted. The humans could probably be bumped down to Class III Violent Undesirables, or maybe even Class II. The officer in charge sent the recommendation for consideration by the next Council, but didn't worry about it any further. The quarantine, including the tachyon inhibitors, would remain in place either way, and the humans would join a long list of stagnant planetary civilizations.\n\nThe QE officers were so unconcerned that they almost missed it when the humans began to synthesize their own active tachyons. When they did notice the new devices, though, they chuckled at the spirit of these humans and dialed up the tachyon inhibitors. They vowed, however, to keep a closer eye on the clever rascals.\n\nIt was because of this close watch that they noticed almost immediately when the humans started experimenting with warping space. The QE officer in charge didn't think it was a problem, but contacted the head of the Council's scientific advisory team, just to be sure. The scientist replied that the human experiments were intriguing, but the energy requirements were so outrageous that it was little more than a curiosity. Satisfied, the QE officers left the humans to satisfy their curiosity.\n\nIt was when the humans began to build antimatter reactors that the QE officers were truly shocked for the first time. The idea of a planetary civilization building something like that was outrageous. They had expanded to the other planets of their system by this time, but that only gave them a grand total of four gas giants to harvest from. The scientist from the Council, when he heard, came personally to investigate, though he assured the officer in charge that this wasn't entirely unheard of and he just wanted to get a closer look at the designs. He promised that he would petition the next council for gravitational perturbers to add to the inhibitors, and the problem would disappear. Sure enough, the perturbers came, and the human warping experiments all began to fail due to irregular spacetime ripples.\n\nThat is, they failed for a while. Then, every QE surveillance probe in the system went wild as they detected a ship moving across the system at FTL speeds. The Council dispatched a team of scientists to investigate this time, but they were stumped for a year before they realized that, outrageously enough, the humans had managed to stabilize the local spacetime around the ship with negative energy. Negative energy! Every other species in Council space had given up on negative energy as a fantasy ages ago, and the humans had produced it right under their noses. The team debated between capturing the FTL ship for study or annihilating the humans outright, but eventually they produced a remote high-energy tachyon emitter that they were fairly certain would render the negative energy unstable. Sure enough, the human ship exploded fantastically, and the QE officers could rest easy.\n\nBy this point, the Human Quarantine Enforcement Brigade had gone from a backwater post to a prestigious post, tasked not only with stopping the human experiments but also ensuring that the explorations ships they sent out at sublight speeds every couple years all met with unfortunate accidents. When the officer in charge resigned due to stress, he was replaced with a famous general, renowned for her work in peacekeeping operations in the galactic core.\n\nIt was a great scandal, then, when the humans opened a wormhole to the Proxima Centauri system shortly after she assumed command. The galactic press berated her as she agonized over her limited options, until she assented to her advisors' plans to increase the force of the gravitational perturbers in the hopes of shaking apart the still-open wormhole. It worked, and the human fleet in Proxima Centauri was quickly destroyed. However, the perturbers pushed asteroids off their orbits, and soon every planet in the system was subjected to a harsh bombardment. The Council concluded that it was a job well done under harsh circumstances. The general, however, criticized their callous opinion towards genocide. The argument escalated in the form of biting public statements, until the general traveled to the Council to speak with them personally.\n\nAs the general was away, the remaining QE officers tracked the remnants of the human fleet as they gathered near the system's great ringed planet. One day, the surveillance equipment picked up a massive spike of energy between all the ships, then registered what appeared to be a gash in reality. The watching officers thought it was a bizarre equipment failure until they saw the human ships begin to move into the gash. When they had all traveled into it, the gash disappeared, and there was nothing left save for dozens of QE officers watching their screens in silent confusion.\n\nIn the Council chambers, the general was shouting about the sanctity of all sentient life when a black rip appeared by--not on--the nearby wall. A figure in a spacesuit stepped out and looked around.\n\n\"Hello,\" a voice said from inside the space suit. \"I am a human from the planet earth. This is first contact with alien life, and I'm very excited, but unfortunately I must ask for your help. The home planet of humanity is experiencing a great calamity, and we are hoping that a civilization as grand, compassionate, and industrious as yours appears to be could save our world. Please, we are new to the galactic stage, and we need your help.\"\n\nThe Council chambers were silent. Slowly, quietly, council members moved away from the human. Then, they screamed, broke, and ran." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: While walking through the jungle you hear rustling behind you. As you turn a silver back gorilla walks out of the bushes. He pauses and looks at you as you freeze in terror. After a few seconds he says 'Well are you going to get out of the way or just stand there with that dumb look?'" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Caesar, how you been old boy?” I say.\n\n“Not great actually. My last appearance was 2017. And while the residuals have been good to me since ‘71, I like to be active, acting, you know?”\n\n“You don’t need to tell me that. I’ve been out of work for the same amount of time.”\n\n“You have? Who are you? Sorry to not recognise you.”\n\nI laugh.\n\n“No one recognises me. I was an extra in Dawn of the Planet of the Apes.”\n\n“Oh...” he says, embarrassed for me, probably for himself too.\n\n“What are you doing at the moment? Have you had lunch? I know a good banana tree not far away.”\n\n“I was actually on the way to a meeting, so I should go.”\n\n“A new role!” I say, giddy all of a sudden and rush toward Caesar like I’m the Donkey from Shrek. I arrive to where he’s standing and beat my chest a few times and let out a big growl. Letting him know I’m excited for him.\n\n“It’s nothing, really. A web series actually.”\n\n“A web series. Great! Everyone streams now. That’s exciting! Netflix? Disney+? What service?”\n\n“YouTube.”\n\n“Oh... A web series,” I say with emphasis. One of those web series.\n\nWe stand next to each other awkwardly. I’m wondering how Caesar, the greatest of the apes, would appear in such a low-rent piece of content. Not to mention, if that’s all he can get, what of my own acting aspirations?\n\n“Caesar,” I say. “You don’t need to go to that meeting. In fact I won’t let you. Come eat some bananas with me, that’s much better use of your time. Healthier, in every sense of the word.”\n\nHe looks and me, then looks away, seemingly timid. He really has fallen some way. It’s scary what a lack of confidence can do to even a strong being like him.\n\n“I, um, I haven’t had breakfast,” he stammers.\n\n“Great, great! These bananas are actually the perfect breakfast. Maybe we’ll have a swim afterwards. Get you fit again, strong again. In movies again!”\n\nHe smiles, stands up high, and whacks his hands on his on chest.\n\n“That’s more like it old pal! Come on!”\n\nI race off, squealing as I go, and hear Caesar thumping behind me. We hoist ourselves up and over fallen foliage. We rustle through thick forest and swing around trees. We laugh. We roar. Eventually, we tire. But we make it to the spot. To the bananas. We eat.\n\n“Sorry Caesar, I forgot I need pick up my little one today. Can you wait here? Have a swim? I’ll be back soon. You can meet my boy!”\n\nHe pauses, looks at me, and puts his hands on my shoulder.\n\n“Thank you so much for today. I needed this. Go get your boy. I’ll be here, swimming or eating these delicious bananas.”\n\nI run back to where I met Caesar, I sniff his path, to predict the direction he was going in. I find his meeting. I take it. They say I look different but I say it’s me, Caesar. I get the role! 6 months later The Ape is released, and it’s the most successful web series of all time. It changes YouTube. It gets an Emmy! I get an Emmy! I am Caesar!" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: An immortal and indestructible man walks the Earth dealing out judgements on government leaders. He is publicly known and a camera crew follows him everywhere he walks. He approaches Washington D.C. after walking out of the Atlantic Ocean." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The crowds gathered as the Judge made his way to the outskirts of the city. His unfeeling eyes showed no hint of humanity just cold calculated judgements to pass unto those he faced.\n\nHis path had been merciless, the goverments of some countries had been completely massacred while others were left intact cowering in fear. Many people called he Judge a hero for punishing the corrupt politicians, others a cold blooded killer who answered to no one.\n\nBoth the police and army had been mobilized to keep the population away from the Judge. There could be no incidents or escalations like in North Korea 3 years ago. Too many civilians had gotten in the way and were judged guilty for even the smallest infractions.\n\nAmong the crowd stood a man like no other, frustrated with his inaction for the last 5 years. Today would be the day he had been waiting for.\n\nThe Judge sensed his presence already as he walked into visual range. There he was, behind a fence guarded by hundreds of soldiers. The man in the crowd leaped over the fence in a single bound well beyond the line of soldiers. The people were shocked to see this seemingly impossible feat, a silence soon fell as the Judge and the mysterious man faced each other.\n\n\"Are you going to turn this place into another bloodbath?\"\n\nThe mysterious man spoke with a similar distortion to his voice as the Judge.\n\n\"That remains to be seen, even you would agree with me on many of my verdicts in the past. Your nature isn't all that different from mine, you were born from similar hopes and wishes.\"\n\nThe mysterious man smiled and took on a more relaxed stance.\n\n\"Do you even fully understand what we both are? I guess that it can't be helped, we are both bound by set directives\"\n\nThe Judge was silent for a moment and calmly answered.\n\n\"I was born out of the collective need for the people to judge those in power who can't normally be judged. I am the sum total of this need, the need became so strong that I took on physical form. I am merely the wish of the people for justice.\"\n\nThe man facing the judge took a more serious stance.\n\n\"That may be so, but your actions have fueled me and brought me back into existence, what do you think that says about you?\"\n\nThe Judge was rather surprised by this response, how could this being be there because of him? He had brought so much justice over the years and made the goverments so much more benign towards their populations.\n\n\"You are the hope for the impossible, the hope to survive wars, the hope to no longer live in fear one day. The people are afraid of me? How can this be when I'm following their need for justice?\"\n\nThe man once again smiled and answered.\n\n\"Humans are far more complex then you think, you are set against those who abuse power. I came from many desperate civilians and soldiers on both sides during wars, I can't pick sides because of this.\n\nPeople fear your power more then they appreciate the work you are doing...\"\n\nThe camera crew had been following the entire conversation, a woman among their number suddenly asked a question.\n\n\"Will both of you cease to exist if we are no longer subjected to fear and oppression?\"\n\nThe normally blank stare on the Judge's face turned to mild surprise as he and his kin looked at the woman. The hope embodiment kindly answered her question.\n\n\"We will still exist like we always have, we only won't be able to physically interact due to lack of \"fuel\".\"\n\nThe Judge now also smiled for the first time he came into existence and looked towards his \"brother\".\n\n\"There will be no judgement today, the people should start judging the corrupt themselves again. I have showed them that nobody is in a position where they can escape justice forever. There will only be interference from me when there is no other way.\n\nI believe neither of us are really needed here after the events of today.\"\n\nHope and the Judge faded away.\n\nThe Judge would appear again on a few occasions. he no longer killed on sight but simply dragged corrupt politicians into crowds and let them decide after presenting their many misdeeds.\n\nThe Judge appeared less and less as the decades went by, the fear of him had diminished during this time. During his last visit he pointed out that he'd phase out like the hope embodiment did so many years ago.\n\n\"You have come a long way as a species, my guidance is no longer needed. It would be better for all of you if you never saw me or my brother ever again.\n\nRemember, we are always watching and it doesn't take too much for either of us to return.\n\nFarewell\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: It’s a simple job. Get in, grab the kid, and get back to the safe house. The crew of 6 year olds ready their toys. It’s time to unground their friend." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Tommy kneels down and tightens the Velcro straps of his black, light-up sketchers. “A man’s gotta do what a mans gotta do,” he says, and stands to his feet. Towering 4 feet tall with proper posture and strapped with his favorite fanny pack, he is ready for anything.\n\nChristie, his favorite sweetheart (next to his mother, of course) approaches him and fastens the buttons of his blue flannel t shirt. “Tommy you’re so brave,” she tells her companion, “and I want you to know that I love you.” She kisses his cheek. They share a warm embrace.\n\nBehind them, sitting on the other side of the tree house, Willis, Pat, Ronny and George all pretend to hurl. George, clever as ever, offers his remark. “I’m suprised neither of you got cooties yet,” he tells me pair, “I heard Dale Peterson from Mrs. Fowler’s class got cooties last week.”\n\nLittle Pat gasps and begins fiddling with one of her red pigtails, her cheeks becoming rosey at the thought. “Is he going to be okay?”\n\nWillis chimes in. “I heard he isn’t gonna make it.” Pat quickly looks down at her knees and her lips begin to quiver.\n\nTurning his attention back to his friends, Tommy offers his reassurance. “I know Dale and he’s a tough guy, you can count on that,” he explains. Reaching into his spongebob themed fanny pack he withdraws a pair of black leather gloves. Slipping them into his hands, he continues: “But for now, we’ve gotta worry about getting Drake out of the house. I don’t even wanna think about the kind of punishment his mommy and daddy are putting him through.”\n\nThe gang all lets out another gasp in a frightful unison. Ronny stands to his feet and tightens the straps of his denim overalls. “You don’t think they’re making him.. you know..” he says.\n\nPat cries out, the fate of her crush Dale Peterson still clouding her train of thought, “Don’t you dare talk like that!” She rushes to a small wooden table in the corner of the tree house and pulls a juice box from her lunch pouch. “I need a pick-me-up.”\n\nBut Willis, the usual worry wart, could not help but share his opinion once again. “Drake told me the last time he was grounded they made him scrub BOTH the toilets in the house AND wash the dishes after dinner.”\n\nPat crushes the juice box and slams it onto the floorboard. “I SAID I DON’T WANNA HEAR IT!”\n\n“Alright, alright! That’s enough!” cries Tommy. “Are we gonna do this thing or what? He’s locked up in his house as we speak doing god knows what, and I-“\n\nHis speech is interrupted by knocking from below the trap door of the tree house.\n\nRonny kneels down to the small wooden frame near the latch. “Who is it?” he asks. The gang all stand ready and tall.\n\n“It’s drake, open up!” the voice cries from the other said.\n\nRonny quickly opens the latch and an eager Drake climbs up into the tree house. Pat runs over and gives him a hug. “You’re alive!” she exclaims.\n\nDrake laughs and reveals a large brown lunch bag. “My mom and dad let me out to play for today. They packed us all sandwiches too!”\n\nThe treehouse is then filled with laughter. Drake begins to pass out the sandwiches, one for each of his loyal companions, and the friends all enjoy the afternoon together. No scrubbing of toilets, no cleansing of dishes, no foul cooties either. Just 7 of the best friends, their tree house, and a handful of PBJ sandwiches.\n\nThe End.\n\n(Authors note: Dale Peterson did not recover from cooties.)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You are a writer in the year 1983. Write a futuristic dystopian short story set in the year 2014. Your story includes true dystopian facts that have actually happened in our era, while including \"future tech\" from the viewpoint of the 1984 writer. Future tech can be real or fictional." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "On November 8, 2014, I was walking down Xiannian Boulevard, on my way to make a drug deal. The streetlights overhead flared a brilliant bluish-white intensity, bathing the sidewalk in an over-saturated hue. On my right side loomed the massive NeoShanghai Economic Tower, a gargantuan building of glass and carbon-steel that always reminded me of an oversized can-opener.\n\nThe western-facing side of the Civil Pacification Barrier that surrounded the structure was adorned with globular turrets, darkened domes containing high-powered video cameras. These cameras used radio waves to constantly transmit video and audio to authorities without the use of wires. The cameras were said to be so powerful that they make an electron microscope look like a daguerrotype.\n\nThis information was passed along to central data-banks that store and organize every piece of video and audio information absorbed by the automated sentries. The rumors stated that any criminal activity caught on the surveillance network was reciprocated by a late-night raid by the Urban Tactical Enforcement Agency, who would kick down your door and handcuff you before you even had a chance to remember what you did wrong. The tin-foil hat types believe that the Social Oversight Bureau, the ones responsible for creating the Civil Pacification Barriers, used surveillance data against high-ranking members of political and corporate organizations. I didn’t buy into such notions, but I do admit that the possibility made me shiver from time to time.\n\nI didn’t let any of this knowledge bother me as I walked along the imposing barrier toward my destination. I glanced at my cyber-phone, checking for incoming digita-letters from my dealer. Nothing. I hurried onward, ignoring the beggars and vagrants that were crowded around the Civil Pacification Barrier and huddling underneath the protective glow of the street-lights.\n\n“Directions, please.” I said aloud. A bright green arrow flashed on the screen of my cyber-phone, directing me towards the high-rise apartments where my dealer, Z-Disk lived. A small but high-resolution image of the apartment building in question also appeared on the screen. The structure resembled a giant cybernetic rectangle, with the sides of the building traced in glowing red lines that indicated the residence was “guarded” by the Informational and Electronic Filtration Network, a lovely invention by the S.O.B. designed to monitor residential information networks in order to prevent cyber-crimes as well as meat-crimes. The rumors surrounding this system were even more nefarious than the ones surrounding the C.P.B.’s. I tried not to think about this stuff as I neared my destination. I tried to focus on the crime I was about to commit. Give the money, take the drugs. Don’t get caught by The Net.\n\nWhile I was considering the simplicity of this crime, I heard a powerful whooshing sound above me. I craned my neck to look at the source of the sound. As I began to resolve the shape of a hovering Automated Aerial Apprehension Unit, I suddenly felt extremely hot. It wasn’t like the heat of an open fire or a space heater, it was all over, it was inside of me. I imagined that this was what a meatball felt like if you left it in the microwave too long. I collapsed to the pavement, dropping my cyber-phone in the process.\n\nAs I writhed in agony, I heard the footsteps of an Urban Tactical Enforcement agent draw near. The helmet-clad officer slapped carbon-steel handcuffs on my prone form and hoisted me into the air with a single arm. I could hear the movement-assisting hydraulic servos whine in response. With a single motion, the agent unceremoniously dumped me into the back of a U.T.E.A. pick-up truck and closed the carbon-steel Suspect Pacification and Restraint Device around me. Busted.\n\nEdit: Some changes in wording and syntax. Minor content changes to better suit the prompt and provide clarity." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: \"You actually did it.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Would have thought that she would have been happy about it. She thought she was being clever when she told me to go find some uranium isotope 235. And when I brought to her in the correct lead-lined container, she gave me a look of horror, crossed her arms and whispered:\n\n\"You actually did it.\"\n\nI set the heavy container on our breakfast table.\n\n\"Course I did hun, just like you asked babe,\" I replied. She gave me a stern stare down, her hands losing colour from how tightly she had crossed her arms.\n\n\"I was fucking joking. And this is a joke, right?\" She stepped forward and examined the case. She tried to lift the thing but her feeble little arms would never be able to hold it.\n\n\"You think it's a joke sweetheart?\"\n\n\"Can you stop with that?\"\n\nI turned my back to her and smirked as I put the kettle on. A helicopter was hovering nearby. I could hear its engine and blades grilling the normal silence.\n\n\"With what my love?\"\n\nShe slapped my back and scoffed, no doubt with her annoying crossed arms.\n\n\"You know full well what. Stop with the stupid pet names. And I don't believe you. For all I know there's... is... that helicopter getting closer?\"\n\nWe both heard sirens beyond it too. She stared at me in panic as I poured in the hot water into a mug of coffee.\n\n\"Richard, did you really do it? I didn't mean to be mean, I didn't,\" she cried out, backing away from the windows.\n\n\"Too late now. You know what you said. I've done what you asked,\" I said and took a nice tongue-burning sip. Milkless and sugarless. Bitter as Hell.\n\n\"I-I was trying to make a point,\" she retorted hotly. \"But we need to get out of here.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" I said, setting my mug down, \"Let's just run outside where all the armed police are waiting. Sounds like a great escape plan. Or do you want to tell me to do something you thought was impossible again?\"\n\nI reached for the case, pulled out a key from my pocket.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" she shrieked and lunged herself at me, knocking me down. I pushed her aside and stood up, brushed myself off. I put the key in and turned it.\n\n\"You'll kill us all! And so many innocent people, Richard! Please don't do this - this is my fault!\" She sobbed pathetically, her words not so audible over the helicopter.\n\nI unlocked the case and opened it as she covered her face with her arm. And then I showed her the contents.\n\nBricks.\n\n\"You're a daft little cow, cutie pie. Have fun rebuilding your life without me. We're done,\" I said and walked to the door.\n\nShe grabbed my trousers in a wild frenzy.\n\n\"S-s-so n-no bomb?\" she could barely get her words out.\n\n\"No you ugly pigeon. Now piss off and let me go,\" I tried to kick my leg away from her grip.\n\n\"A-and the h-helicopters?\"\n\n\"Fuck knows,\" I replied. She let me go. I opened the door and witnessed a gang of heavily armed men walked past our house towards a barrage of police.\n\nI threw myself inside, dropped to the floor beside her. Cried.\n\n(I dunno what kind of genre this would be but nonsensical comes to mind)\n\nAlso if you actually didn't roll your eyes at this, maybe check out my sweet new sub, r/astoriawriter!" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: As you enter the bar, you see the man who killed your wife and son in a drunk driving accident 5 years ago." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I had thought about it countless times. Where, when, how, all were simply a means of figuring out what; what would I do to him? She had fallen in love with me for the silliest of reasons, as she said it, “You have such kindness in your heart”. There was no kindness in these thoughts.\n\nI wanted him to hurt like I hurt and in my imaginary world I had the strength to destroy him. Removing his organs one by one was not just a possible feat, it was delightful. His misery was my joy, yet there he was and here I am. I will my feet to move, to bridge the gap between us, and nothing. Where was that bravado now? Where did my seething hatred run off to? Here is the man, the object of my worst intentions, and I can’t even move my own two damned feet.\n\nHe waves his hand and the bartender pours him another drink. It looks like whiskey, but I wouldn’t know it from here as I only come for the darts and the pretense for social interaction. I hate people; I hate that they get to be happy. I was happy once, he was so beautiful.\n\nHe was my little monkey. That day he came into my life I died. The room was filled with his little Ooo’s, his body covered in little golden hairs. In that moment I was reborn a man, a Father. When I got the news he died in the car with his Mother, I died and this time there was no rebirth. Despite all my emptiness, all of my rage, my feet still don’t move.\n\nI was never much of a drinker and after that night I never touched the stuff. Tonight was different and I figure if I can’t move towards him I’ll take the empty spot at the other end of the bar and try to get my head on straight. I don’t remember what I told the bartender I wanted, but I ended up drinking something alcoholic and hard. The first drink didn’t do much. The second drink took away the tightness in my chest, and with the third drink I found that I had taken the empty spot next to him, next to Kurt.\n\nThere wasn’t much to the man. He was shorter than me, his hands were well worn, his face felt to me like a kick in the stomach, he was jovial and the bartender was enjoying his banter. They both looked to me and asked if I thought the Cards’ had a chance this season. I wanted to say the truth that I don’t care for sports, but this would probably be my only chance.\n\n“For awhile I thought I came to the wrong bar, hell yeah they have a chance. Maybe even more”.\n\nThey smile and Kurt starts talking about his favorite player and some statistics I know even less about. I offer to buy him another round and he thanks me “kindly”.\n\nA few drinks more and we’re talking about politics. None of the talking points make sense anymore and the bartender is just nodding his head out of politeness for what must be his best customer. He asks if I want another and I say “I’m done for the night, but my friend here still looks thirsty”. The barkeep pours him another round and another round as I gladly oblige.\n\nAs the conversations come to a lull, I come to the conclusion that Kurt is a remarkably average man, if not a remarkably average shitfaced man who deserves to die. The bartender lets us know that he has to cut Kurt off and asks how we plan on getting home. “I’ll pay for a Taxi can you call up one for us?”. Kurt would show his appreciation, I’m sure, if he could talk at this point. His arm is slumped around my shoulder as he attempts vaguely human vocalizations.\n\n“That’s for the best”, the bartender says as he clears out our tab, “wouldn’t want you fine gents getting into an accident”.\n\nAs fast as I can I, look away, my face feels like a crumpled soda can. In the wait for the cabbie I swipe Kurt’s wallet and he offers no protest. He has no Driver’s license but his state ID looks recent, I pin the hopes of my vengeance on the address being correct. The subsequent drive to Kurt’s is rather uneventful. I painfully feign friendly banter until we arrive. I pay our fare and, together, we shamble up to Kurt’s front door. He’s still completely wasted so I fish through his pockets for keys. Once inside the door, Kurt crumples onto the floor.\n\nThe house is dusty and quiet as if no one lives here. I listen intently for any other signs of human life, but only hear Kurt gurgling. I bare his burden up the stairs and wonder why a drunk like him has so many fucking stairs. My back is on fire, but it only stokes the furnace in my gut. I should make it look natural, no one will miss a drunk like him. Fuck that I want everyone to know of my justice. FUCK. I didn’t prepare for this, I scramble through the room looking for a weapon. Kurt starts to mumble. “Why did you have to die. I mi—“, I shove a sock from the floor into Kurt’s mouth. Was that regret? I can’t afford to think about this now. I need a weapon. I flick on his bedside light and there it is.\n\nThe picture frame looks onto me as I look onto it. A girl. Was she living with him? I frantically move through the house, room to room, until I find it. Her room. Her room where the bed is perfectly made, where the dressers are covered in dust. Her room with the pictures of him, and her when they were happy. One picture is planted with its face down, I lift it up and there she is in a bed with no hair and tubes in his nose. She was a skeleton compared to the radiant, dress wearing, smiling girl in the previous photos. I didn’t need to be sober to put it all together. This room was just like his room, my little monkey’s room.\n\nI somberly walked back to Kurt, who I had left sprawled on his bed with the sock stuffed in his mouth. The demon in my gut was slain. I pulled the sock from his mouth and dropped a note on his nightstand as I left.\n\n“I was going to kill you tonight, but she beat me to it”.\n\nThat night I drank until the world went dark." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 900-1000 words. Prompt: In 24 hours, the Earth will be engulfed by the sun. Today is your last day." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was my finest work, really it was. Today I would witness the culmination of an enterprise I had poured the last twenty years of my life, my entire fortune, and my not inconsiderable intellect into.\n\nThe view from my observation post was spectacular. I had constructed it just for this purpose, just to watch the growing spectacle in the sky above. The fact that the remote location had made it a good bit easier to keep some of the nastier bits of the whole business away from prying government eyes was just an added bonus.\n\nThe location certainly made grocery shopping stupidly complicated. I had to have everything shipped in in bulk - today I was sitting on more gin and vermouth than I could hope to drink in one lifetime.\n\nMy phone buzzed, and I reluctantly set down my martini to pick it up and answer. There was a video feed with the call. I liked video feeds – I didn't have to ask who it was or how they had gotten my number.\n\nThe round office was instantly recognizable. The face behind the large desk wasn't – maybe it should have been, but I had stopped paying political news any mind some fifteen years ago.\n\n“Mr. President! What can I do you for?”\n\nThe reply from the other end was tense, strained. The video quality wasn't great, but I could see the beads of sweat on his brow and how he was shifting in his seat in a way that made me want to tell him to just invest in a good hemorrhoid pillow already. His arms were folded very deliberately on the desk in front of him, and save the tremors in his fingers, were as still as if he had nailed them down. Maybe he had? I couldn't help but wonder.\n\n“This is President Banjo Bojangles...”\n\n“Ha! I knew I could get you to say it. You know I made the Russian guy – Vlad? They're all Vlad over there, aren't they? Made him call himself Madame Pomfritz. Made the Chairman call himself the Mighty Poopsmith.”\n\nThe president pursed his lips and continued.\n\n“Our engineers at NASA have given us some… distressing news. I apologize that your initial contact with us did not get the attention it rightfully deserved.”\n\n“It was the bit where I said you needed to call yourself a silly name, wasn't it? I bet it was the bit where I told you to call yourself something silly when you called.”\n\n“To be honest, sir, it was the part where you said you intended to blow up the sun. We believed it could not be done.”\n\n“And NASA is just now telling you that it's happening?” I whistled between my teeth. “China and Russia beat you guys to that. They both called yesterday. America really dropped the ball on this one”.\n\n“We would like to discuss your demands...”\n\n“What demands? I never said I had any demands. That message was an FYI, not a ransom note”\n\nThe president's already pale face took on a tinge of green.\n\n“You can't possibly be serious! There must be something you want. We'll give you anything! It doesn't matter if it isn't legal, man! What do you want? Money? Fame? Women? Men?” His voice went up a few octaves and increased tempo as he spoke, until the last bit was delivered in a kind of shrill tumbling wail.\n\n“Oh! I just remembered. There is one thing I want. I want to see my wife and kid again. That'd be great.”\n\nThe U.S. president motioned off camera, and a smartly dressed assistant walked in. They exchanged whispers, and the aide shuffled back out of the shot.\n\n“Sir… your wife is dead.”\n\n“Right, right. Has been for a long time too. Suicide. Took the kid with her.”\n\n“But… there's nothing….”\n\n“- you can do? Short of building a time machine and maybe fixing your mental health care system before it failed her? That was actually plan A, believe it or not. Couldn't make the physics work, so we're on to plan B.”\n\n“…” he was hanging his head now. I could just make out a few tears dripping onto the desk.\n\n“When I spoke with the Russians and Chinese, they both offered new wives and kids at this point...” I offered. I couldn't help it – he just seemed so lost.\n\nThe President picked his head up, reddened eyes opening wide for a moment. “Is that what you want? We can arrange that...”\n\n“Heaven's no. I know it's cliché, Mr. President, but some men do just want to watch the world burn - I'm just fortunate enough to have the skills to actually make it happen. And besides, I couldn't stop it now even if I wanted to – or did NASA drop the ball on figuring that bit out too?\"\n\nThe president was back to inspecting the empty top of his desk. I spoke to the top of his head when I continued.\n\n\"Look - there are a few hours left – I suggest you spend them with the people you love, because never has it been more true that life is short for all of us, and these moments are precious.”\n\nI didn't wait for a reply. I clicked the phone off and picked the martini back up. I knew finishing all of the gin was hopeless, but it was good gin and it'd be a shame to waste more of it than necessary." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: After developing the first FTL craft, humanity is welcomed into the galactic community with open arms. All is going well, until the human ambassador is gifted a xeno slave to \"do with as you please\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Docking had been a pain, as the Galactic Community’s standards for docking ports were irritatingly large, and the smaller adaptable ports had been taken up by ships that didn’t need them. So after waiting for no less than three hours in a holding patter around the Galactic Community’s meeting station, the USS Starbound (the Americans built the ship, so the Space Force got to slap USS on it even though it was unarmed and otherwise fairly civilian oriented, minus the accommodations) finally slid in at half a meter per second into the docking manifold, and in-person first contact was a-go. The entourage totaled only five people. Conditions were nominally tolerable to Humans (though the oxygen content was notably higher than Earth at sea level, the temperature a little low, and artificial gravity a little low), and there was little worry about pathogens thanks to some quick simulations on a copy of the Human genome. The Ambassador, the Space Force captain, and three aides stepped off through the airlock to a raucous cheer from the waiting ambassadors from other species. As they knew by now, there were over three-hundred other species in GALCOMM already, and there were another fifty on the watchlist for potential GALCOMM status in the coming centuries. Humanity had been on that list for a while, and finally now had a chance to meet their neighbors. Language was a barrier, but work on translation matrices had progressed to the point that a basic verbal communication was possible, as long as you could ignore hearing their native tongue behind the translator.\n\n“Welcome!”\n\nThe first ambassador to speak wore an impressive gown and reached out to lay a hand on the Ambassador’s, before quickly recoiling at possibly committing a faux pas.\n\n“Oh, my apologies. I am Lord Resaya Amasla, of the Ariela Empire.”\n\n“And I’m envoy Koroya Harlamatayla of the Democratic Tokan Co-“\n\n“And I’m Sarak-“\n\nAt that point thirty envoys were now talking over each other, and not being able to keep up the captain raised his voice.\n\n“Gentlemen — and ladies — can we finish egressing our vehicle? This loading bay is a terrible place for cordial conversation.”\n\nThe Ambassador turned back and nodded.\n\n“Yes… we should meet in the actual chambers. We have a speech to make and gifts to unload, if you folks wouldn’t mind.”\n\nThe other envoys turned towards each other and frowned. The Ariela ambassador spoke first and so for the rest.\n\n“We won’t meet for another 12 hours. You arrived at our night here.”\n\nThe lights were dimmed, but it seemed odd that a particular daylight schedule had been chosen for a multi-species station, but, well, that was that. Twelve hours.\n\n“But we do have a gift for you. For you specifically, Mr. Ambassador.”\n\nEnvoy Harlamatayla turned her head and nodded, and a young woman soon walked in wearing expensive looking clothes.\n\n“This is Kara. You may do with her as you please, and I’m sure that she won’t complain.”\n\n“I won’t!”\n\nShe even sounded enthusiastic.\n\n“No, uh, thank you. No thank you. We don’t do that.”\n\n“No, really, it’s fine. I’m Tokan. We’re into it.”\n\n“No, really, no. It’s not fine, it’s not fine at all.”\n\nDisappointed at the reaction, the Tokan instead walked up to the captain and began running her hand down his side, at which he recoiled.\n\n“I’m married, thank-you-very-much.”\n\n“Oh, c’mon. She doesn’t have to know.”\n\nThe aides looked at each other and resolved to ignore this strange advance. Certainly a honeypot, their glances agreed. Kara rolled her eyes.\n\n“Are you Humans that lame? You don’t want a very attractive woman like me?”\n\n“No!”\n\n“No, no thank you.”\n\nEnvoy Koroya was starting to get rather irritated, while the other species were somewhat surprised. One stepped up to say something.\n\n“Mr. Ambassador, there isn’t anything wrong. The Tokans are wonderful and wonderfully transparent.”\n\n“We… we don’t do this kind of thing. It’s not right.”\n\nEnvoy Koroya decided to join Kara in fawning over the staff.\n\n“Oh, you all, you’re just soooooo cool. You just want to be allllll special and ignore such a wonderful woman.”\n\nBy this point the envoy had placed her hand on the Ambassador’s pelvis, while trying to act all sweet. The taboo of such an activity was clearly lost on both her and Kara. The Ambassador had enough.\n\n“For the love of everything good, get off me!”\n\nThe two women recoiled and frowned.\n\n“I don’t want you, the captain here doesn’t want you, and the aides don’t want you. How hard is that to understand?”\n\n“Very!”\n\n“Alright, back to the ship. We’re not dealin’ with this. I’m gonna give my speech in half-a-day and then I’m goin’ home.”\n\nAnd that was how Humanity became the stuck-up species of the Galactic Community.\n\nMy first writing prompt. My dialogue sucks but I’m tryin’ to work on it." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: In a dystopian future being a serial killer is rewarded, And the award for best serial killer goes to..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Your work in this past year has been unlike any we’ve ever seen,” a man dressed all in black complimented from across a long white table. Two others were seated on either side of him, and they offered their compliments as well.\n\n“I can’t recall a year with so many political executions,” a woman in charcoal beamed.\n\n“You nearly had me worried,” another woman sneered.\n\n“That might be the greatest compliment I’ve ever received,” the man seated opposite the judges spoke. He wiped a false tear from his eye and smiled.\n\nHe observed the five judges before him. Two of the greatest assassins in modern history, a high priest, a major general, and a lawmaker. All dressed in black, and all with praise glittering in their eyes, save for the priest, whom did not speak nor emote.\n\nHe knew he was the final contestant to be interviewed. He had watched his opponents enter and exit the building while he remained in wait. In hiding. They had never known he was watching.\n\nOne of his opponents would be dead within the hour. He was far too volatile to be of any use as a Winning Killer, so his career would have to be extinguished.\n\nTwo were obsolete. Talented, but lacking in a certain finesse.\n\nThe fourth had joined far too late in the game. Not nearly enough kills under her belt to be of any major threat.\n\nAnd so that meant he would surely be awarded the title. He wore his pride like a gaudy mask. His record was spotless, known to very few, and his every act was as efficient as could be. They would be foolish to award anyone else, and he knew it.\n\n“Getting cocky, are we?” One woman asked.\n\n“Oh, I would never,” he retorted. So close.\n\nHe leaned back in his chair feeling another flush of pride, and even a flutter of giddiness at the thought of his award. It would be very subtle, undoubtedly black, yet a trophy nonetheless.\n\nHe slid his hand on the arm rest of the chair, but paused after a moment.\n\nHis palms were sweating. That was irregular.\n\nAlways a man of schedule and perfect detail, irregular could not be afforded.\n\nHe swallowed, and listened as the judges continued to talk and praise. Only the high priest continued to watch him. Look through him.\n\nHis throat was dry.\n\nThat flutter was not giddiness.\n\nWith no regard for his current location, he shot up from his seat and the room went silent. With wild eyes, he ran towards the sole window in the white room and scanned outside. He knew these symptoms. He knew the symptoms of every fellow contestant's tactics. It took only seconds for him to locate a familiar face staring at him from the building across the street.\n\nContestant four. The rookie. She waved.\n\nHe spun to face the judges, who continued to sneer and grin. The high priest still stared.\n\n“That’s not possible,” he exclaimed, “I check every drink, every piece of food, every cut, every prick!”\n\n“Such a shame,” one female judge shook her head, “he can’t figure it out. You could’ve been of significant use to us.”\n\n“Tell me!” He shouted, his heartrate racing. He was beginning to sweat.\n\n“I know every tactic, I’m always listening, always watching, I have cameras everywhere,” he cried with rage as his chest tightened. It was a fast acting poison, he knew. But exactly where it had originated, he couldn’t place.\n\n“Order, contestant,” the priest spoke with glassy eyes, “she knew you to be her greatest threat, and the final contestant. She was in this very room not minutes before you.”\n\nIt took only a second to sink it. His hands went to his eyes, which were beginning to burn. He had touched his eye.\n\nThat wasn’t just sweat on his hands.\n\nThe chair arms. Coated.\n\n“So close,” he whispered.\n\n“It’s brilliant that she succeeded so quickly. So much cleaner than her second plan,” one judge said to another.\n\n“A backup plan can pay off,” another judge nodded and looked to him, “a shame your foresight doesn't include the possibility of failure.”\n\nMedics swarmed into the room as his vision clouded over.\n\nNo, not medics.\n\nMorticians." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: An exquisite mansion burns to the ground late one night. When the fire dies down, the skeleton of the mansion still stands. At its center, unharmed and unfazed, stands a man in perfect Victorian attire. He checks his watch and mutters to himself, \"right on time.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Six miles east and three fields north of Attlin, a mansion burned atop a grassy butte. The flames licked the interior clean but curiously left the frame intact, dying even before reaching the dewy greenery outside. As the facades fell away, a man in a Victorian suit stood untouched and unfazed. Without looking, he tugged on the gold chain that disappeared into his vest pocket. A pocket watch inscribed with an hourglass and inlaid with gems sparkled in the dying embers of the mansion, the light creating an illusion of endlessly tumbling sand within the carving.\n\nAs the last red coal dropped from a rafter and transmuted into ash, he flipped the watch open. He nodded as he saw the arrayed hands, slightly vocalizing his internal mutter: “Right on time.” A moment later he pressed the polished stopper atop the watch.\n\nAs the ticking second hand halted, the world suddenly silenced – no wind brushed the weeded slopes and no background hum vibrated from the now still insects. The night was quiet. One hand still holding down the watch stopper, the man fished around in his pockets with the other, pulling out a small silvery key.\n\nDespite having an aura akin to that of the watch, the key seemed a bit dull in comparison, as if the now unimpeded moonlight was avoiding it. Inscribed on the rather chunky ward was a tesseract, each carved line seeming refilled with a continuous pour of clear stone.\n\nThe man approached the mansion’s center pillar. Momentarily regretting his choice of glove, he brushed away a layer of soot just below eye level to reveal a small keyhole and inserted the key. The pillar began to emit a dim glow which slowly spread across the remaining beams of the mansion, revealing a shape akin to the tesseract that was inscribed on the key. As the glow started to brighten, the dispassionate man finally moved to shield his eyes slightly. Within the light the beams of the house dissolved; the crumbling dust flew unerringly towards the center pillar which also disintegrated to join the collection. Like sand shaped via a pressed mold, the dust compressed and coalesced into the shape of a woman in a Victorian dress.\n\nWith a first breath echoing across the stillness, the woman immediately took a moment to tap her parasol on the ground and shake out her petticoats, leaving the last traces of ash to fall to the floor. The main offered her his free hand, the other still compressing the button on his pocket watch, and escorted her out of the ruin and onto the gravel front walk.\n\n“Unusual, isn’t it, for you to be the one to perish?” the man jested, a slight wry smile upon his face. Unlike the man’s generally cold demeanor, the woman’s eyes sparkled. “Indeed. Usually most people are out to kill Time.”\n\nThey continued down the way for a few more quiet steps before she continued, worry creeping into her voice. “Although you may have still been the target. They were looking for your phylactery; I think they might have caught on to the fact that yours is hidden in Space.” She released the man’s hand in order to slip her arm around his.\n\n“We can attend to that later – rather, it may be safer not to move it yet.” The man shrugged off the woman’s worry, patting her forearm. “More importantly, When would you like to hide your core next?”\n\n“I’m thinking, around 2500 BCE. There’s something so romantic about the pyramids.” The woman picked up her pace, almost dragging the man with her. With a dry laugh, he released the stopper on his pocket watch; as the second hand resumed its next tick, they were gone." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: All the bad luck in the world is spread unintentionally by the residents of one small town in Missouri." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Hey! You there! No, come in, come in! Entrance is free! Ignore that sign, that's old guff. I wouldn't charge you two dollars for this old place. And I'm in a good mood - you know, I don't think I've seen a tourist since the hutning season finished! No, no, not deer, not in this part of the world. Albatross! My, we do kill a lot of 'em! Do come in! And mind your head!\n\nOh, I'm sorry, that was my fault. I'll get Jim to fix the ladder when he's back from community theatre. He's talented, that Jim. He's playing...what's that man called again? He keeps telling me. Well, welcome to Blight County Museum! We're only small, but we've got a heck of a lot of history! Here, come and have a look at this.\n\nThat's right, this is old Indian country! Yeah, the locals called this place the Necropolis, so I'm told. Very important to their religion - we keep finding these beautiful beads and weapons and things. Look, this is even part of a bone! Why, we found that just outside the door there - to think, I must have walked over it every day without knowing! We had this lovely achaeologist come over and tell us about it.\n\nThe town here was founded in 1855. The first family - that's the Blarneys - bought the land on the 13th July, and the rest is history. These here are the famous Blight County shoes. That was our first big industry, shoes. Can you believe we used to make hundreds of 'em? Why, they used to sell them right out on Main Street, they'd get their wives to bring out the kitchen table to put all those damn shoes on. But - you know what - they always sold! Legend has it we sold a nice pair of dress shoes to old Abe Lincoln!\n\nAnd this is a picture of the old salt mines - see the five horsehoes? Why, we had a little bit of the Wild West right here in the South! It went out of business, pretty fast, though. We get these strong winds, you see, the damn rocks were flying everywhere. And that was the year before the Stock Market crashed! So us Blight county miners got off pretty lucky, compared to all those other investors, don't you think?\n\nOh, that's the old cat sanctuary from the 60s. Let me just hang that back up. My, did Mrs Carter keep a lot of them! I tell you, when I was growing up, we were overrun with these cats! You couldn't drive down the street - we all had to walk everywhere! Lovely cats, though they did bolt whenever you walked by. I think they know things, those cats. They're clever animals.\n\nAnd that's the Blarneys again. See, they've still got that ginger Blarney hair? You know, they've all left now. Brian...well, he grew up here and moved on. I hear he still keeps rabbits. They were very nice, the last Blarneys. Very concerned with keeping out little town safe, even if they did have all those weird little family rituals. I suppose all families do. Oh, the town's not the same since they left. We've certainly hit a rough patch, with the economy and the glass recycling plant laying people off. I still throw all my old mirrors away up there. You can't take it personally.\n\nOh, but I'm boring you. And what a storm's brewing outside. Don't worry, I've got a spare umbrella right here. Just your luck, right?" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You are a child and it is easter. You are at a town easter egg hunt. You follow the trail of easter eggs into the woods where there seems to be a gigantic rabbit burrow. The eggs go down inside. You want to win that prize." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Randy knew King's park like the back of his hand. Living just across the street, he spent years exploring the 15 kilometers of trails and 300 acres of park. There wasn't a trail he didn't know, a bench he hadn't sat on. So when he saw the single purple and green egg siting atop a small mound of earth and moss about 20 feet from the trail, he didn't hesitate to run in and grab it before one of the other children saw it. Under his arm was a basket with 26 eggs inside already - only four more for the big prize.\n\nHe picked up the egg and smiled at his catch, and was about to turn back to the trail when through the thick canvas of dead branches he saw another egg on a stump, further into the forest. He took a quick look back at the trail before pushing forward, pushing aside the dead branches and breaking the small ones as he went. He got to the egg and quickly snagged it, placing it into the basket. Only three to go.\n\nThe snap of a twig caught Randy's attention and he looked up and around. He didn't see anything. He could barely hear the voices of the other children, their silhouettes barely visible through the thicket. Another noise. He whipped his head around towards the sound coming from deep within the park. The weave of his basket crackling under his tightening grip. There was something beyond the branches, on the side of the tree. Randy focused his eyes and pushed aside some branches with his arm for a better look.\n\nIt was another egg. A shiny gold egg.\n\nHe looked back at the barely visible trail. The egg was only a few feet away. He would turn and go straight back after grabbing it. It was starting to get dark anyway. Randy knew that he couldn't get lost in the park. Sure it was big, but you only had to walk in one direction for 30 minutes before you would reach one of the city's main roads. He had done it before. Yet, the forest had never seemed so dark to him as it did now, so encroaching.\n\nRandy went in and grabbed the egg, and as he turned around to go back to the trail he saw it. A hole, on the side of a rise in the earth, with Easter eggs in it. More eggs than he could count, of all colours: some vibrant greens and purples, and others pastel pinks and blues. They lined up in a single file, going straight into the hole.\n\nRandy approached the hole quietly, looking around his shoulders as he did. He had explored this park for as long as he could remember, in all seasons. He knew every nook and cranny, even outside of the trails. So why hadn't he ever seen this big hole before?\n\nHe approached the hole and grabbed the first egg slowly, not taking his eyes off of the dark void. He waited a moment before grabbing the next egg in line, even slower this time. As he reached out for the third and final egg, the last one he would need, he froze. He thought he could hear a sound coming from inside the hole. It sounded like...carnival music?\n\nRandy put down his basket and got on his hands and knees. He inched towards the dark hole slowly to see if the music got louder. It seemed like it was, if only slightly. He inched forward a tiny bit more. And a bit more. And a bit more.\n\nThen the music stopped. Before Randy could start moving backwards, the long thin fingers wrapped around Randy's head, the thumbs thrusting into his throat to gag his screams before being sucked into the hole.\n\nThe police found the basket of eggs the next day, in the middle of the park next to rise in the earth, the thick tree roots clamouring over it like veins." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: As you’re walking home on a small empty street, you see a man frantically running toward you. He stops, and between gasps of air he says, “I suggest you run.”" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The brisk morning was calm and quiet as I made my way home.\n\nOnly thirty minutes after five am had my night shift ended.\n\nWhen you work at a twenty-four hour store someone has to work the ungodly hours of the night to morn.\n\nThough I worked myself to the bone, I still had earned next to nothing.\n\nWould I ever be able to afford a car? Maybe some day. But for now, I got to look forward to a thirty minute walk from work to home.\n\nThen I would have just enough time to eat breakfast before grabbing my backpack and running for the college bus...\n\nHeavy footsteps sounded behind me, breaking through my boring thoughts.\n\nA man dressed in gleaming white robes stopped for a moment to catch his breath. His body shuddered from pure exhaustion.\n\nOnly after a minute was he able to summon enough breath to speak, \"I suggest you run.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch what you said,\" I replied gripping my purse tightly.\n\n\"Run!\" he cried as he fell to his knees, blood splattering from his chest.\n\nImmediately I bolted, what had happened? I had not seen anyone near by.\n\nNot daring to slow down, I glanced backwards. Was he dead? Who was he?\n\nFear began to intensely grip my heart. Had I seen a shadow standing over his body? Or were my eyes playing tricks on me?\n\nI reached my small apartment and rifled through my purse for my keys.\n\nWhere were they? Had I left them at work?\n\nNo, I knew I checked before clocking out.\n\nYes! At last there they are!\n\nI unlocked the door quickly and closed it quickly behind me.\n\nMy legs shook uncontrollably as the adrenaline faded away.\n\nI sat down with my back against the door.\n\nThe events of moments ago played through my head, I vaguely remember seeing a claw.\n\nBut only a flash, for a second and then it was gone.\n\nThen the man was dead.\n\nThat's what I needed to do!\n\nI had to call an ambulance, there's a chance the man might still be alive!\n\nI reached my hand into my purse. But was unable to find it.\n\nAfter several unproductive minutes I turned the bag upside down, pouring all its contents on the floor.\n\nVictorious at last! I gripped the smart phone in my hand, and dialed the emergency number.\n\n\"Hello you have reached 911, state your name and...\"\n\nWhy had the woman stopped speaking?\n\n\"Hello? Hello? Are you there?\" i asked, my panic rising.\n\nWith shaky hands, I took the phone away from my ear.\n\nIt was dead.\n\nOnly moments ago it had been on ninety-five percent!\n\n\"The more people you involve, the more people I have to silence.\" A husky males voice said.\n\nI looked up to see a man dressed in black robes sitting on my kitchen table.\n\nIn his hand he held a sword resembling a dragons claw.\n\nMy mind screamed \"Run!\"\n\nBut my body was frozen in place.\n\n\"You might be wondering why you can't move. Don't think to much about it. I have a special ability that leaves my victims motionless... That other guy you saw back there he's... special. The only one able to run from me.\" he chuckled.\n\n\"But I assure you he will run no more!\" he said with a spring in his step as he walked over to me.\n\n\"Is that right?\" A voice asked.\n\nI couldn't tell where it was coming from, but it sounded light and friendly.\n\nThe man in black groaned, \"Brother why must you always spoil my fun? She was terrified of me!\"\n\nThe man in white robes that I had warned me earlier, came out from behind his brother.\n\n\"You know the rules, no fraternizing with humans. I am so sorry about the scare earlier young lady, I truly thought he was going to kill me. But apparently he's weaker then I assumed.\" he said was a mischievous smile.\n\nThe man in black glared at him, \"Well I thought I was too. Let's leave this fight for another time. I will kill you.\"\n\nThe man in white laughed, \"Only in dreams.\"\n\nThe world faded around me.\n\n\"June! June! Thank god that you are awake! The instant I heard about your car accident I came right away! Sweety say something!\"\n\nI opened my eyes to see my mom grasping my hand tightly.\n\n\"I don't remember getting in a car accident.\" I said confused.\n\n\"The doctor said you got in a head on collison, you've been in a coma for three months!\" she cried, tears of joy falling down her face.\n\nI looked about the hospital room, and for a moment I saw the man in white. He winked at me and disappeared." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: A young man is approached by one of his monstergirl college classmates who asks him a favor. \"Hey, I heard you're... virile. Will you cum inside me?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Wade was still thinking about the upcoming test when he left his Advanced Non-Human Anatomy class. He was so distracted by his thoughts that he didn't even notice the slime girl and her holstaurus friend move up to walk beside him.\n\n\"Hey there Wade,\" The slime girl said mimicking a human gesture as she pretend to brush her hair behind her ear. Her green face mimicked human nervousness with practiced ease. Without waiting for a reply she blurted out, \"I heard you're... virile. Will you cum in me?\"\n\nSo stunned that he tripped on his own feet Wade stared in shock at the slime girl. He had to have heard her wrong, there was something not right about that statement and it was a shockingly forward request. He hadn't even had a girlfriend since high school, and he didn't have a clue how this girl would know anything about him, let alone, that.\n\n\"Excuse me?\" Wade finally choked out. \"You heard what? From whom?\"\n\n\"Ugh,\" The slime girl looked down at the girl and ground her foot against the sidewalk. \"Yeah I guess that was too forward, but if I didn't say it I thought I would chicken out.\"\n\n\"Uh, okay?\" Wade looked between the embarrassed slime girl and the cow girl holstaurus on his other side. The other girl smiled and waved warmly as her tail twitched. Wade found it hard to keep eye contact with her as he realized she shared the prodigious bosom of her kind. The girl didn't seem too surprised by her friend's sudden request.\n\n\"Let's go somewhere and talk,\" The slime girl finally uttered. Motioning for them to follow her she led them into the cafeteria and found an out of the way table at the back of the room.\n\n\"My name is Amaya,\" The slime girl smiled and pointed over to the cow girl. \"And that is my girlfriend Maddy, and we have a problem that we want you to help with.\"\n\n\"Oh?\" Wade was still confused. If these two were a couple why did the slime girl want him to uh, be of service? \"And how can I do that?\"\n\n\"Uh well,\" Amaya looked down at the table and tapped her fingers nervously on the table. \"Maddy wants to get pregnant, and I... uh, there are side effects of a pregnant holstaurus that I would enjoy too.\"\n\nWade thought about that, he knew slimegirls enjoyed drinking the fluids of other humanoids and the prodigious udders of the holstaurus could produce some of the best milk of any species. He also knew many holstaurus had an almost insatiable desire to be either pregnant or nursing with the first being required before the second. It was a biological imperative most found hard to resist. In fact, nearly ever holstaur who went to his high school was already posting about their first kids on social media by now.\n\n\"Uh so why wouldn't I...\" Wade glanced over at Maddy bashfully and the cow girl also blushed. \"Uh...\"\n\n\"Maddy doesn't like boys,\" Amaya shrugged and reached over to squeeze her girlfriend's hand. \"But I don't mind a guy and I can hold onto your cum until I can use it to... Ummm take care of things?\"\n\n\"Oh... Oh!\" Wade realized what the pair wanted him to do but he was still confused. \"Why me?\"\n\n\"So you volunteered for a study,\" Maddy spoke up. \"My friend was helping with it.\"\n\nWade suddenly remembered the fertility study he had volunteered for. He had needed the extra cash for expenses and it had seemed like an easy enough study to participate in. He also remembered the busty blue haired succubus who had smiled at him as he signed up and was fuel for his... enthusiastic sample.\n\n\"That was supposed to be confidential!\" Wade muttered in an offended tone. They had promised discretion and finding out that one of the researchers was sharing the results.\n\n\"Yeah but does that mean you won't?\" Amaya asked nervously. \"I mean if you don't find me hot I can shapeshift to someone else, favorite actress maybe, or uhhh... actor?\"\n\n\"Oh, no!\" Wade held up his hand. \"I, uh, like girls... Not that I have a problem with that, I'm just straight.\"\n\n\"Oh good,\" Amaya smiled a bit, that definitely made this easier. \"Like big tits or a huge butt... I can do just about anything?\"\n\n\"Uh before we get to that, what do you expect from me as far as... Ummm the kid?\" Wade really wasn't ready to settle down and be a father especially with a woman he didn't even sleep with.\n\n\"Oh nothing, well maybe not nothing,\" Maddy said as she blushed and her tail twitched. \"We don't expect financial help but the kid will likely want to meet their father one day. And if, uh we decide they need a sibling we would ask you to, um, donate again?\"\n\n\"I see,\" Wade mumbled, fuck he was being asked to be an indirect sperm donor for these two. While Amaya wasn't a bad looking slime girl he was weirded out by the proposition. However he was also a young red blooded male and had not had much luck with the ladies. \"What if it takes a few tries?\"\n\nAmaya blinked then grinned. This was the first sure sign Wade wanted to explore the idea. She looked Wade over and whispered something to Maddy. Maddy nodded slowly and then smiled gently. The lesbian pair looked the cute human male over, he had been selected after all for his looks, brains, and his sperm.\n\n\"Maddy and I are happy to take as many attempts as needed to get it done,\" Amaya whispered in her best seductive tone. \"In fact until the child arrives we can agree to give you regular access to my body as a means of thanking you.\"\n\n\"\"Can you change into that bratty succubus who violated my privacy?\" Wade said suddenly, the prospect of having regular access to a shapeshifting woman for months on end without having to navigate the intricacies of the dating world making up his mind.\n\n\"Itching for a hate fuck?\" Amaya said raising an eyebrow even as her face shifted becoming a familiar woman that made Wade's cock twitch. \"Cause we can do that...\"\n\n\"Fuck,\" Wade whispered and checked his watch. \"I've got two hours before my next class and my room is close.\"\n\nAmaya stood and Maddy clapped with glee as she stood to follow the pair. While she didn't like men she could certainly tell Wade was cute and having Amaya fill her with this guy's virile cum was becoming a more and more pleasing prospect." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 800-900 words. Prompt: Among psychics, technopaths are among the most debated. Some think them incredibly powerful and dangerous. Others think them weak and a mere novelty. This debate ends once and for all when aliens show up." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I sit in the bar, on my usual bar stool. Jerry, the bartender comes around to greet me with his serious face.\n\n\"The usual drink? It's getting busy and I don't want to read your mind Basti.\" Jerry liked to keep his conversations succinct and to the point. If you wandered into this bar hoping for consultation over alcohol akin to therapy, you would be sorely disappointed. I nod and show the credit card on my right arm. This was attached to it, a feat possible due to my cybernetic accessories. The patron to my right sees this to his amusement.\n\n\"A technopath! Are you here to study how TVs work? Maybe you can romance the jukebox over there for some free tunes!\" His bellowing laugh was the most annoying part of this one-sided exchange.\n\nJerry just audibly clicked his tongue out of frustration. He's seen this many times, almost every time I come to the bar. He placed the vodka cocktail in front of me and proceeds to scan my credit card. After I confirm the amount, I hide the robotic arm back into my sleeve.\n\nThe patron to my right pushes the drink in front of me, almost toppling it over. I catch it haphazardly, spilling almost half. An amazing accomplishment, considering he only used his mental prowess to push it. A psychokinetic. Of course, they're a dime a dozen here in Kalonia City. Bastards that think they're better than everyone else.\n\nJerry stood in front of us again after serving another customer. Happy hour sure was busy. \"Do we have a problem here gentlemen?\"\n\nThe jerk couldn't hide his grin. \"I was merely helping this guy here have his drink. Maybe he didn't have the reach for it. Good catch though. I'll buy you the next one. Can I swipe my credit card in your arm or your ass maybe?\" The bellowing laughter continued.\n\nMy headband audibly beeped before it flashed red. Alarmed, I looked around the bar and saw another patron with a shit-eating grin a few seats away from me.\n\nThis time, Jerry couldn't handle himself. \"Oi! That's enough! No unsolicited mind-reading here!\" With a flick of his arm, Jerry lifted the patron with psychokinesis, showing brute mental force. After chucking the renegade telepath out, Jerry immediately placed a ban on him in the security system. A system I helped design and continue to improve among other things.\n\n\"Wasn't that too rough Jerry? Mike just wanted to test something out.\" It seemed the jerk beside me knew the telepath. Of course.\n\nBefore Jerry could respond, the door exploded inwards. Everyone looked at the now explicitly open entrance, unable to make sense. I almost expected Mike the telepath to walk in and make a ruckus. However, I couldn't be more wrong.\n\nA figure in a spacesuit walked in. He appeared humanoid, except for the fact that he had four limbs and his helmet was filled with some sort of liquid. The microphone in his suit cackled to life before a distorted voice came out. \"Prepare to be assimilated, livestock.\"\n\nAs the other customers in the bar tried to make sense of his words even with their enhanced mental acuities, the alien started blasting. His energy rifle emitted a high-pitch noise before it fired non-stop.\n\nEveryone responded by panicking and running amok. The psychokinetics tried to push the alien with their minds, only to be overwhelmed by the energy rifle. Others clamoured to the exit and through the windows, only to be mowed down as well. Screams and sizzling flesh filled the bar within seconds.\n\nAs for me, I dived behind the bar along with Jerry and other patrons. The jerk was also beside me, pissing his pants. He didn't even try to put up a fight, like the other psychokinetics.\n\nJerry turned towards me, as serious as ever. \"Basti, can you do something?\"\n\nThe jerk tried to cut in. \"A technopath? Have you lost your mind, Jerry?\" It was impressive how he still tried to discriminate even with the loss of his bladder control.\n\nI simply nodded to Jerry, ignoring the jerk. \"I'll throw this cocktail skewer to his spacesuit. You just reinforce the skewer with your telekinesis. Push it as hard as you can, without altering my aim.\"\n\nJerry nodded as I removed the skewer from my cocktail and placed it in my right hand. After a wordless nod, Jerry and I stood up and set our plan in motion.\n\nThe skewer flew at a slow pace first, before it suddenly picked up speed mid-flight and pierced the alien's spacesuit at an awkward spot. With a fizzle, the liquid suddenly drained and mixed with his circuit board. The resulting cackle of electricity and small explosion in the suit proved my theory right. Their coolant wasn't exactly protected from their circuitry. The alien slumped down, lifeless.\n\nJerry looked at me as if to confirm something. I nodded. \"Yup, he's dead.\"\n\nThis time, the jerk with the wet pants stood up and looked at the alien in a spacesuit. \"How did you know his weak spot?\"\n\nI smiled as I walked towards the fallen alien while transforming my right hand into a long blade. \"Technopaths have a way with technology as you know.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: The third stallion is a club quite unlike any other... The only currency accepted are orgasms." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Aaron didn't want to go to the Third Stallion. He knew how payment was handled and that just made me uncomfortable. But it was his birthday and his long term relationship ended a few weeks prior and his friends were desperate to get him out again.\n\nThey took a table and started to look over the menu. A waitress came over and introduced herself as Annie. She which memeber of the table would be paying and before he could speak Aaron's friend volunteered him.\n\nAfter they all ate, Annie came back to the table to collect her pay and tip. Despite the encouraging heckling from his friend Aaron remained hesitant as he stood and Annie took his hand, starting towards the pay area.\n\n\"So what if I can't...you know.\"\n\n\"Make me cum? We'll open a tab. \"\n\n\"Like a regular bar.\"\n\n\"Mhm.\"\n\nShe opened one of the doors for him and followed him in.\n\n\"I'm legally obligated to inform you that there are security cameras in here for both of our safety and obviously security. \"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"Something wrong sugar?\"\n\nShe asked as she flicked the lock to mark the room as occupied.\n\n\"I'm just nervous, it's been a while, I just broke up with my girlfriend a while back...and there's the whole public thing.\"\n\nShe smiled. Something about soft smile, smooth voice, and big brown eyes made Aaron calm.\n\n\"Don't worry, this room is sound proof. And I'm sure you can make me cum, I known as a bit of a soft touch.\"\n\nAaron smiled a little but soon let it drop.\n\n\"How much do I owe you?\"\n\n\"Just one.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"Yeah bar orders and extra accommodations bring the price up...but you don't want to hear any of that boring stuff. \"\n\nAaron nodded and Annie walked closer. Her perfume made his stomach tie up again. She held out her hand and Aaron hesitantly put his in hers. She took his hand and started to rub it slowly against her shirt.\n\n\"Maybe if you get a feel for my body you'll be less nervous hun.\"\n\n\"You do have a pretty sexy body...\"\n\nWithout a second thought he kept rubbed her body as she closed her eyes and smiled.\n\n\"Such soft hands. \"\n\nShe said as she pulled her shirt up a little. He rubbed her bare and she shivered in pleasure. She slowly exposed more as his hand traversed her body and her perky tits.\n\n\"Mmmm.\"\n\nShe worked both of their jeans off as he continued to rub. As she undressed his hand traveled lower.\n\n\"What do you like Annie?\"\n\nHe asked blushing. She motioned him to lean with a wave of her finger to whisper in his ear.\n\n\"I like being on the bottom and being held down and being fucked nice and slow but hard at the same time. You can even call me your exs name if it helps. \"\n\nHe ignored the last part as they gently switched and she sat on the couch pulling him down on top of her. She squirmed in pleasure a little as his tip brushed across her wet pussy.\n\nAaron slowly slid it in and she moaned as her tight pussy took all of his hard cock. She rubbed her nipples as he fucked her with slow, hard thrusts.\n\nEach moan brought a certain gleam to her already beautiful eyes. Aaron could've sworn he saw them widen as her pleasure and moans grew.\n\n\"Aaron, don't stop. \"\n\nShe purred in pleasure. Her pussy was soaked and the noises as his cock pulled back and forth against her pussys tight grip only made Annie moan louder and louder.\n\n\"I'm gonna cum...\"\n\nShe barely got out before she arched off the couch and came hard with a couple of raspy, loud moans.\n\n\"Oh my God. Your cock is amazing. \"\n\nAaron smiled all his stress and worry seemingly lost in the feel of her cumming on his cock.\n\n\"How do I tip you?\"\n\n\"Cum all over my face. \"\n\nIt took a few more thrusts before pulled his cock out, eliciting a small whimpering moan from Annie. He repositioned himself and she stared up at him with her big brown eyes as he moaned and stroked his cock until he covered her face.\n\n\"Oh my God, you came so much. I love it.\"\n\nShe sat up a little to lick some cum off of his tip. She gently laid back and sighed.\n\n\"You have to come in here again. \"\n\nHe blushed and rubbed his arm.\n\n\"Oh stop. The other waitresses would love you. \"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 800-900 words. Prompt: A shopkeeper deals with a shy thief" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Welcome to Fast Stop,” I call out to the girl as she tripped the sensor by the door.\n\nThe two-note chime ends as the automatic doors slide closed. The girl, no more than eight I’d say, looks startled by the greeting, stopping dead in her tracks to shoot me a surprised face. Then she points her eyes toward her feet and slinks off down towards the candy aisle.\n\nKids are always a risk. There’s no easy way to handle them. They’d show up in groups and make a mess of things. Their backpacks were a perfect place to stuff tens of dollars of merchandise at a time. When we instituted the no bags policy, a rash of theft from the sidewalk had parents blaming the shop. Banning unaccompanied kids entirely meant that the steady trickle of minor purchases halted; parents were less likely to buy their children any overpriced sweets on their watch. Better cameras and limits on the number of children allowed in at one time have had the most success by far. This girl is currently my only customer.\n\nIt’s true that most of the cameras are just for show. Surveillance is expensive and the small display under the counter can only show so many feeds at once. In one quadrant of the screen, I see her eyeing some of the chocolates. I’ve seen enough thieves to know that she doesn’t look to hide any of them in a pocket. I go back to organizing the cigarette display.\n\nI stop when I hear one of the refrigerator doors close. When she reappears on screen, she is holding a peppermint patty and a small bottle of milk. Most kids go straight for the sodas and energy drinks. Anything with sugar, really. I smile.\n\nShe turns to face one of the dummy cameras and my smile fades. She then ducks down a blind aisle. I look up to see if she’s in my line of sight, but she is not. She reappears on the display tucking in her shirt. My mind races through the contents she may have taken. That aisle had mostly automotive items on one side and general home goods like plastic bags on the other; nothing that a child would likely take. Her body language tells me she took something and the inventory would certainly confirm that at the end of the day.\n\nShe approaches the counter and places her milk and candy on top alongside a five dollar bill.\n\n“Is that everything?” I ask.\n\nShe nods, refusing to make eye contact.\n\n“Are you sure?” I pry, hoping to force a confession.\n\nShe glances up at me. The guilt is clear as day. But she nods again.\n\n“You’re sure about that? You haven’t, say, put something in a pocket for safe keeping?”\n\nI’ve given her an out. Hopefully she takes it. I don’t want to involve the cops.\n\nHer face loses all color. She knows I know. She looks ready to speak when a car in the parking lot honks its horn. A man of about forty leans his head out of the car window pointing to his watch. The girl sees him and signals back that she’s nearly done. Her attention back on me, she shakes her head.\n\n“Is that your dad?” I ask.\n\n“Y-yes,” she answers weakly.\n\n“If you just leave it on the counter, I won’t have to tell him.”\n\nShe starts to choke up as tears stream down her face.\n\n“Please, mister. You c-c-can’t tell h-him. You c-can’t.”\n\nHer eyes plead with me. She waits for her father to turn towards one of the single mothers walking past before reaching into her pants to retrieve her attempted theft. When she lifts her shirt just above the belt line, I can just make out the bruising where her pink flesh should have been.\n\nThe clamshell-sealed pocketknife is set upon the counter. The girl is on the verge of breaking down. I hand her a tissue as I count her change. Her father honks the horn again, his face an exhibit of rage. I give her another look, her eyes still begging. I grab my scissors from the case of cigarettes and free the knife from its confines. I push the bag of her purchased goods so that the knife is pushed with it.\n\nThe girl is no longer crying. She fires back the same surprised look she gave me she entered. I give a slight nod as she grabs the bag with two hands, cradling the tool in her lower hand. She hesitates, unsure whether to leave, or say something, or hide, or run.\n\nAnother honk, followed by the revving of a car. They’re followed by the two-tone chime from the door sensor.\n\n“Thanks for Fast Stopping by,” I call.\n\nThe script says I’m supposed to say “Come back soon,” but I know that I’ll never see her again." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: \"I stand alone. Even as the tide of evil rolls towards me I do not flinch, I do not budge. I know I stand in the right, it matters not if I succeed.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The salvage corvette team came out of cloaking as the energy systems magnetized and ionized against the surface of the Taidan ion frigate. Space wrapped and blurred from the black haze of cloaking and became a yellow starry sky, with the great galactic core acting like a painting across the sky.\n\nEnver Soban looked at his sensors, which had relinked to the mothership with cloaking disabled. The two tiny ships were now butted against a long, slender, phallic ship shooting out waves to jam communications and keep the taidan fleet in the dark.\n\nThere was a clunk of metal against metal.\n\n\"Sal-2, Sal-2, we don't have a link.\"\n\nSoban felt a sudden jerk as the ion frigate powered up its repulsors. Salvage 1's magnets had failed to fire, and only half of the frigate's systems had been taken down. The sensors began blaring, but the enhanced mind of Karan S'Jet was not present. She was monitoring another salvaging crew.\n\n\"Sal-1\" Soban said, trying to be calm, \"Push your thrusters up and retry.\"\n\n\"Negative, Sal-2.\" There was a pause as another clunk of metal reverberated through the comm. \"The frig's jerking disabled our mags. We won't be able to take 'em.\" This was the voice of a man who knew he was about to die.\n\n\"Fleet command. This is Ha-Tkey 7. This is Ha-Tkey 7.\" Soban called out. \"Fleet command?\"\n\nThe cloak field generator was gone even from the corvette's sensors. Instead, all Soban's corvette could see was the last known position of the mothership, and the giant sphere of ion frigates around the great hyperspace inhibitor.\n\n\"Sal-1. Our sensors show a squadron of imperial interceptors bearing down on us.\"\n\n\"Negative.\"\n\n\"The frigate is blocking your sensors. Soban, here me out. We're only partially attached. Take your corvette, and run.\"\n\n\"Orwig...\" Soban whimpered.\n\n\"Soban, when you get to Hiigara tell my Kiith we fought like you Saban, tell them I went out-\"\n\nThe comm went to static as the salvage corvette exploded, sending the frigate spinning.\n\nSoban knew that S'Jet would feel that from her giant neurological interface. He'd have her attention now. He would not, as Orwig said, take his corvette and run. That was Kiith Manaan thinking. If he thrust at the right intervals, he could get the frigate spinning fast enough that all the Taidani aboard would be knocked out by the centrifugal forces. His ship, at the center of the spinning, would get at most... oh.. 10 gs? All he need was S'Jet assigning another cloaked generator or even another Ha-Tkey to help him.\n\nAs the g-forces increased, the giant hyperspace inhibitor swung in and out of view, as well as the contrails of the interceptors still failing to fire on him. He could feel the blood rushing to his head and his seat twisting, trying to accommodate him.\n\nThen it stopped. The frigate had regained power and was putting an end to the spinning with a nuclear fusion generator the size of his entire corvette. His ship could not continue fighting engine against engine unless he released the salvage mechanism.\n\n\"Fleet command? Fleet command?\" Soban cried out. He could see the X-shaped claw of attack craft coming towards him. He could almost here their parallels loading their next magnetically propelled charges.\n\n\"I stand alone. Even as the tide of evil rolls towards me I do not flinch, I do not budge. I know I stand in the right, it matters not if I succeed.\"\n\nThe salvage magnetic field dropped, replaced instead by brute force. The ion frigate began to spin again, and S'Jet's awareness finally glanced across the battlefield,\n\n\"Group seven. Lost.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: \"Anime Protagonist Syndrome isn't real! It's just something made up to scare people.\" Your aunt said as she combed your cousin's neon green hair...." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nobody cared when my cousin was born with green hair. It was just an intriguing genetic mutation that he’d get to brag about for the rest of his life They did, however, care that his parents died three days after his birth from heart attacks that occurred at the exact same time. His aunt agreed to take care of him, luckily.\n\nFrom then on, abnormal things seemed to plague him from left to right. Every class he ever attended sat him in the back row right next to the window. He was always bullied by a group of stereotypical boys, and he always eventually won a fight against them after exactly six months of non-stop beat downs. All the girls in the school loved him once he turned sixteen, but the only one who was actually his friend was a girl so beautiful that she was complimented for merely existing, yet somehow didn’t know of her own beauty. That was just listing a couple.\n\nI hung around him sometimes, but he gave off a vibe that made me want to stay away. I wasn’t jealous of him or anything; in fact, I found his life so cliche and boring that just being told stories of it made me want to fall asleep. All that mattered was that he was happy, though.\n\n“Anime Protagonist Syndrome isn’t real! It’s made up to scare people. So what if a couple things that have happened in his life resemble events in Japanese cartoons? Fiction and reality just don’t cross,” his aunt ranted. I nodded in feigned agreement. Anime Protagonist Syndrome definitely was real, even if it was rare. I was just glad that I didn’t have it.\n\nShe finished combing through my cousin’s neon green hair. He usually didn’t let her do that, but she begged, so he relented. He instantly gravitated over to me.\n\n“What do you recommend doing if you’re hearing voices?” he whispered. I sighed. We always ended up having conversations like this.\n\n“Go to a therapist,” I deadpanned.\n\n“That won’t work! I need to defeat them some other way!”\n\n“Defeat them with medication given to you by a medical professional.”\n\nHe put his hand to his face. “Yare yare daze...why does nobody ever get my problems?”\n\n“Yare yare dazawhat? What language even is that?”\n\nHe looked at me as if I was stupid. “Well, thanks for the help, I guess. I have to hang out with Sakura, so talk to you later.” He turned around and went to the door.\n\n“Wait! Why the hell do you have a girlfriend named Sakura? We’re in the U.S.!” The door slammed. Of course.\n\nLater on, I got a call from him. I was close to hanging up before convincing myself that being a good cousin would benefit me.\n\nI heard screaming from the other line. “What’s going on?!”\n\n“Spirits are attacking the city! I was right! Now get out here and help me!” my cousin demanded. I gawked, despite knowing that he couldn’t see me.\n\n“What am I gonna do to help? Wouldn’t I just be the side character in your little anime?”\n\n“Don’t break the fifth wall! Also, that’s incorrect. You’re my best friend and biggest ally, so get out here and help!” More screaming emanated from the phone. I cringed and held the phone away from my ear.\n\n“Yare yare...wait, I’m saying it too now! You’re a terrible influence on me. Why should I even come?”\n\n“Because if you don’t, you become the villain, and then I have to kill you.” I blinked a couple times. Then sighed. Then relented to my fate.\n\n“I’m coming.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: The first superhero reveals himself by assassinating tycoons and bureaucrats in an attempt to 'cleanse the world'. He has the ability to phase through matter, making him hard to restrain or kill. The powers that be pledge all their resources to the one man with a plan to take him down - you." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Of course I had a plan to take down this vigilante. He thought that the right to be judge, jury, and executioner was afforded to him by the right of power. How dare he? He wore a mask to hide his face, and his costume, if it could be called that, looked piecemeal and homemade.\n\nI analyzed the videos as so many others did, and I was not the only one who noticed that small detail, but I was the first, the loudest, and the most influential. We could see him; he cast a shadow. He affected and could be affected by electromagnetic radiation. I built a fortress with thick walls of lead over top think layers of plutonium. At first they called me mad, but as bodies continued to stack up, they begged me for my protection. It wasn’t cheap, but when you have several of the most powerful and wealthy backing your endeavor, everything seems to become possible. Once construction was complete, we set the bait, my clients, and watched.\n\nIf I was right, as the vigilante walked through the walls, he would get highly lethal doses of radiation and more importantly, the doses would be distributed evenly throughout his body... and his bloodstream. He would be poisoned, and his remaining days would be spent in agony. It wasn’t the most humane method, but it was, as far as I knew, the only method.\n\nOf course, the vigilante never came, and my clients became antsy. Perhaps someone had leaked the plan. Perhaps he could see the radiation. It didn’t matter, he never came, or so they thought. The truth is that he never came through the walls as he was expected to do.\n\nInstead, he walked through the open door. Using the pass code which he had been given as the architect of this whole design. It would have worked, but unfortunately for them, I prefer not to need to hunt for them. Saves on fuel and cash, which I was not rolling in. I walked into the kitchens, poisoned every single piece of food in there, and walked back out. That concentration of wealth and powerful never suspected that their supposed savior was the one killing them. Fear, it’s a heck of a drug. Perhaps I could have assumed power, but I had no ambitions quite so grand.\n\nWith a liberal application of bribes, threats, and duplicity, I managed to spin a story that the assassin had gotten in and killed the bait, but not before suffering several lethal doses of radiation. He was found not three miles from the fortress. The morgue later identified him as a homeless veteran. The corpse had been so irradiated, the morgue claimed, that the autopsy had been done in class 1 hazmat suits. Even then, they had gone through no fewer than five morticians due to health concerns.\n\nThe wealthy and powerful began to crawl out of their hiding places, and they foolishly gathered for a party to congratulate me on a job well done. Again, I poisoned the food, consuming nothing myself, but graciously accepting their thanks and praise. I made it look like I ate, but that was a trick of my power. I let the food harmlessly pass through me and collect on my chair. As bodies began to collapse, the party became an uproar. One of those near me tried to steady himself on me, and I let his hand pass through me harmlessly.\n\nI stood and walked through the table at which I had been sitting. I walked up to the podium and as my “guests” cooled and died around me, I gave a short speech which I had prepared. The world was afraid, but as time passed, it became increasingly clear that I had no intention of assuming power. Just of making those who did hold power and wealth honest.\n\nI think I did a pretty good job" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 700-800 words. Prompt: Her magic was drawn from the plane of lust. That meant that the stronger she grew as a mage, the more her body would change, and the more her libido would increase. She didn't let that dissuade her from her studies at all..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Justine bounced steadily on the young man's cock.\n\nThe library had made special arrangements for her studies given her place in the royal court, chief among them was an assistant that could spare his tool during her studies.\n\nShe found she could concentrate better the longer she edged herself, a skill she had developed quite quickly.\n\nNow, with books piled high across her work desk, she blazed through them and absolutely devouring their contents. There was a ravenous hunger she needed to satisfy, both in her studies and between her legs.\n\nIt had been an odd discovery, learning where her magic came from. The plane of lust. In her research not only did she learn how to fully draw on its vast reservoir, but she also came to find out there was even a cult dedicated to it. They believe there was some powerful deity that lived on the plane and that all their magic came directly from this deity.\n\nAnd Justine was starting to believe it herself.\n\nA few more books speed read, and she decided to call it a night. Another few vigorous bounces and Justine and her assistant came in unison.\n\nSince the manifestation of her magic, she had noticed some interesting changes to her physiology. Her breasts grew to respectable size, indicating her reserves of mana. There was no blemish on her skin, it was immaculately smooth and had a radiant glow about it. Justine's womanly place had become so incredibly sensitive, that she had to take to wearing very loose fitting robes and walk very steadily as any errant touch would send waves of pleasure shooting through her.\n\nNot that she was complaining. It was just awkward when she would double over in ecstasy while talking to royal officials .\n\nBesides those more obvious changes, she also noticed her libido and stamina and increased nearly a hundredfold. She could hardly go an hour without having an assistant assist her. And not just men anymore either. She now craved men, women, and all sorts of themfolk from other races. Justine was filled with all sorts of curiosity. There was a whole spectrum of experience she had to unlock.\n\nAs she entered her private quarters, she quickly discarded her one piece robe. It was all she had on beside her laced up, heeled boots. Unseen servants glided in from each direction, holding items for their mistress: a long polished wood rod, a string of large pearls, clamps in the design of mouths, several glass bottles, and a long flexible metal snake.\n\nThe polish rod found its spot immediately. It began its hallowed work with diligence, ensuring its mistress would be satisfied.\n\nWith the pearls, the servants began the slow and teasing process of filling her back entrance, bit by bit.\n\nThe clamps were placed upon her diamond hard nipples. A hole in the back of the clamps gave easy access to the engorged and clamps peaks, boosting their sensitivity through the roof.\n\nThe metal snake coiled itself around both of her large breasts, initiating an undulating constricting motion.\n\nIt was all her routine, and damn did she love routine.\n\nSoon, the glass bottles were attached to the clamps. In a well practiced order, the snake began milking her , causing glowing blue breast milk to quickly fill the bottles attached to her. She would fill nearly a dozen bottles like this, all the while the while being filled by her magic implements.\n\nThis was true heaven.\n\nThere was a new spell she had learned that she wanted to try. Pulling the polished rod from her, she conjured a small portal just above her precious place. A slight push closer and part it disappeared through it. There was a slight numbing feeling coming through it now, though not entirely unpleasant.\n\nConjuring the second portal in front of her face, her missing bits reappeared through it. How immaculate her slit was. Reaching out with her tongue, she touched it to her lips. An instant explosion of pleasure washed through her. It was unlike any other time someone had licked her so intimately. Now it was her own tongue on her own pussy.\n\nAnd how she devoured it.\n\nShe licked and sucked and explored every inch of herself. And by the gods was it unbelievable. Now she didn't need to communicate what she needed or use apathetic magic servants. She knew exactly what she needed.\n\nAnd only lords in hell knew how hard she came from it. Her moans reverberated deep into her precious place, and it responded with a beautiful torrent of her juice. Justine lapped it up eagerly, hungrily.\n\nAll of her bottles were filled at this point. Her breasts had decreased in size substantially, but they would bounce back by the morning.\n\nGods she loved magic." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You somehow find out the exact date and time of your death in advance. You know that nothing else is going to kill you until your time comes, and so you go all out." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "June 25th, 2045.\n\nThat was the date written on the piece of paper after the ritual was over. I looked it over a dozen times, then burned the paper down over the lit candle to end the ritual.\n\nThat meant twenty more years. Twenty years until the day I died. It seemed quite soon, I would only be in my early forties by the time the reaper came for me.\n\nA month passed without event after that. I went to my job, came back, had some food, and went off to sleep. Repeat daily. Then one day there was a robbery at the store, a few shots were fired, I got hit in the heart. The ambulance took me to the hospital where I recovered, and during the process was informed of how I missed death by a second at best. It was the most exhilarating experience I ever had.\n\nFour months passed by the time I could leave the hospital. In this time I had one more incident near the end of my stay where a drunk man walked into the doctor's office during my check up, blaming her for some relatives death. I got in the way of the gun when he pulled it out of his jeans. It made him hesitate and he was taken down by the guards in that moment. That was the second most exhilarating experience I ever had.\n\nTwo more months passed with no incident. In this time I realized all I could think about was that blood rush I felt, the heart pounding, when I was at risk of dying. It was a new enough experience for me for it to be exciting, yet with me not having to worry about dying.\n\nIn my craving of this feeling, I started going around looking for danger, and I would find it easily enough. I started out slow by getting in between people fighting in the inner city areas. The inner city streets in my city were pretty notorious for the fighting. Then soon after getting bored of this within a week, I started interfering in gang violence cases.\n\nI was pretty amused when I got my photo in the local news as the city hero. I even got a live interview and had the FBI come it at one point for questioning. If only they knew the things I did.\n\nIt took me another month before I realized that helping clean up city crime did not excite me anymore. I needed the threat to be larger. To be more dangerous. I thought about it for a long time, and I realized that I needed the threat to be of insane proportions.\n\nThat's when I decided to run into and mess around with the nuclear reactor security near the city. I remember running in, going directly for the core. I had managed to dodge the guards, and I just zig-zagged everywhere just to see how long I made it. going through one door after another, I found myself passing through a corridor with glowing sticks on one side, and men in full body suits disposing of them.\n\nThat was where I slipped and fell into the waste. I managed to hit my head along the way and lost consciousness.\n\nWhen I awoke, I found myself in a hospital, with a containment zone formed around me. Turned out they had now put me in a sealed room. They had no idea why I did the things I did, and nobody seemed to ask me. Kind of made sense after a moment, as I realized that my tongue and lower jaw were missing.\n\nAfter some time, possibly an hour, a doctor in a hazmat suit came by, and he told me that I had been irradiated. He told me that in my case I could not leave the facility due to risks of causing radiation poisoning to others and that I was going to be kept alive until they found a cure.\n\nIt's been two weeks since then. And bits and pieces of my skin seem to be falling off now. They probably think I will be dead in a month or two, and it will be a mercy. Sadly, they do not know what I know. Suddenly, twenty years does seem far longer than I had previously thought." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You visit a special animal shelter where the animals decide who they want to go home with. The process was going smooth until a white cat jumps into your lap and starts purring. The staff stare at you in horror, and suddenly you start feeling violent tremors, thunder and chaos in the distance." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "We researched into all the options, but adopting was hands down the best way to get our first pet as a family. We visited shelter after shelter, but could never decide. Between the three of us, we just couldn't mutually agree on any one pet. So when my daughter told us about the new shelter where the pet picks you, it was a no brainer.\n\nAfter a very thorough vetting process we were let into a large room filled with various cats and dogs. The rules were posted clearly on every wall; no food, no toys, let them choose you not what you have. I was absolutely in love with the whole idea. We sat down and waited to see which animal would choose us.\n\nMy husband had his eye on a beautiful golden retriever, but sadly the pup decided to go to an elderly couple. My daughter could barely contain her excitement when a Siamese cat started to approach her, but a young couple caught his attention at the last minute. We had almost decided to call it a day, they warned us we may not be picked the first time around, when I felt a lump of fur plop down in my lap.\n\nI looked down to see the biggest cat I've ever seen. She must have been one of those Maine Coon cats or something, she took up my entire lap and then some. Pure white, her fur almost seemed to reflect light back like a fresh blanket of snow. My daughter smiled, my husband let out a quiet yet understanding sigh, and our new fur baby started purring. I started petting her and the purring got louder, I joked she was going to shake down the whole building.\n\nOut of no where, an employee burst through the doors and headed straight towards us.\n\n\"I'm sorry ma'am, she must have gotten away from me. This cat isn't up for adoption.\"\n\nOf course, one finally likes me and it's already got a home. Typical cat.\n\n\"Oh, that's a shame, she's so pretty. Sorry hunny, you have to go back to your human.\"\n\nAs I attempted to help the employee take her out of the room, the windows began to rattle and every animal started barking, meowing, whining, and running around.\n\nA lot was going on...and I could have misheard...but i swear the employee whispered to the cat, \"Please not now your majesty. It's not safe for you out there.\"\n\nEverything stopped. Employees began calming down everyone, and mentioned being relieved the earthquake didn't damage the facility. Only...no news station reported an earthquake. We've never had one before, at least not one any one was able to feel.\n\nIn all the chaos, I didn't even notice where the white cat was taken. I brushed it off, and we left for home, planning to come back the next day.\n\nNeither my husband or daughter seemed as weirded out as me, so I didn't bother mentioning it. After they went to bed, I searched and searched for proof of the earthquake with no luck. Finally, I called it a night and shut my laptop. Directly behind my laptop sat the white cat, perched on my counter so innocently. Before I had a chance to react, I heard a voice very clearly in my head,\n\n\"I need a vacation, please don't take me back yet. They're great to me but I just want some time to be a normal cat.\"\n\nThe white cats eyes shined a bright gold color before returning to their usual green, and her fur did the strange reflection thing I had noticed earlier. I wasn't sure what was going on, or how I would explain this to my family, but something told me I should just go with it.\n\n\"Of course your majesty.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Everybody on their 25th birthday receives a letter with details on the date, time, location, and cause of their death. However, when you receive yours, the letter is completely blank." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It started happening before I was born. My grandfather tells me that it started before he was born too. All we know is that, when you reach the age of 25, a letter appears. No one's quite sure how. It just shows up. Some people never open theirs, they're too afraid to know. If you try to throw it away, it'll come back. If you burn or tear it, a new one is sent.\n\nAt first everyone thought it was a prank. Date, time, location and cause of death? How would anybody know such a thing? But then, the first person scheduled to die, did. Hit by the same bus mentioned, on the same street, at the same time, on the same day. Just days later, the second was shot by a mugger. It was becoming clear that this was real.\n\nFast-forward to now. My 25th birthday. I have the letter. I've already made my mind up that I'll want to know. But my hands shake as I open the letter. What if I only have a few days left? What if I'm going to die today? I swallow, and take the piece of paper out of the envelope.\n\nBlank. Both sides, blank. I hold it up against the light. Still nothing. I try to think what else I could do, but it is completely and utterly blank. What could that mean? Am I immortal? Should I already be dead? Is my death alone unfixed? What kind of person gets a blank death letter?\n\nI walk out to where the rest of my family is gathered. 25th birthdays are usually sombre events, even for those who don't open their letters. I look at them all uncertainly. My grandfather, who knows that he has days left, although he won't tell us how many, shuffles over, and asks, \"Well, want to share?\"\n\nNumbly, I hand him the envelope with the blank piece of paper in it. He takes it out, and the shock of it gives him a heart attack. As we wait for the ambulance, he slips away. He was the only one of that generation left, and he had celebrated his 100th birthday a month ago. He'd known, for 75 years that he was going to die on this day, at the time he did. He just didn't tell us when, because his letter had given the location 'At Your Grandson's 25th Birthday Party'.\n\nWe obviously needed to start preparing for his cremation, but everyone seemed very interested in my blank letter. Nobody came up with any real answers, there wasn't even a whisper about blank death letters on the internet. Eventually, one of my cousins who didn't like me very much said that we could test whether I was immortal.\n\n\"Try it, and I test whether you are.\" I usually wouldn't have been so snappy, but I'd just received a blank death letter, and my grandfather had just died. I was a little bit shaken up, to say the least. Everyone kept arguing over what we could do. Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore, so I made my excuses and left. I walked home, not really paying much attention to my surroundings, and just as I was crossing the road in front of my house, the van hit me.\n\nAs I came to a rest, the death letter which had been knocked out of my jacket, fluttered down onto me, now displaying the number 1." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: These weren't originally my memories, but I'm happy to take care of them." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It’s calm here. Granted I can’t exactly be sure of where or when here is exactly, but I know it feels calm. The sun is setting peacefully, and I feel the dying rays of the sunlight as they drape over me, as I turn to bask my face in its full glory, the sand between my toes almost pours into every crevice and the ocean laps at the land like a kitten laps at a bowl of milk. I am sinking inch by inch into the nestling familiarity of the memory, surrendering to it. Memories rarely feel this good, and I’m reluctant to open my eyes and be abruptly reminded of where I really am. It doesn’t last though. I can feel myself slipping. The sunshine’s warmth drips from my face, the calls from the ocean to the land fade until there is nothing but a dull buzz ringing in my ear, and through my eyelids, I can see the orange afterglow seep into a miserably man-made macabre attempt to demonstrate daylight. Humanity argues about a lot of things, but no one person on this earth enjoys the dull flickering of a fluorescent bulb. I pry my eyelids apart to find myself perched at a grey desk, stacked a mile high with a paperwork tower to rival Pisa. This time I can hear the passive-aggressive sighs of those who are somehow less enthralled than I, and I can almost the metallic bitterness of resentment of every turning page as pens carve into paper. My heart feels incredibly weighted in my chest, and the dull thud of my heart trudges on. What I wouldn’t give to be back on whatever beach I just was. It irks me that I can’t remember the name of the place, only the feeling – it almost makes my brain itch. Funny how just these three pounds of synapses and fat fights to keep you alive, helps you fall in love or make less rational decisions can also absolutely refuse to help when trying to remember where you vacationed three years ago. You wanna remember every embarrassing third-grade memory, every awkward first date, the depth of disappointment in your mothers’ eyes when you told her you totalled her car? No problem. Beyond that though – don’t count too much on it.\n\nThis office day (or has it been a year? It certainly feels like it) stretches out in front of me, the monotony turning my stomach. Hunger or boredom? At this point, who’s to say. I’m stalling. I don’t want to work. I want to lose myself in another memory, and cascade down the street of better days. It doesn’t always work like that though. I can try pressing my eyelids shut and furrowing my eyebrows, but it might not work. I’ve lived through a lot of people’s memories and there really has been a growing trend of office memories, they’re almost inescapable. Whilst these aren’t the more horrific, they certainly are the most boring. I do enjoy the memories though. Allowing me to explore like this, feels so private, so intriguing – I can see why humans adore their memories so much. You can relive age-old beach days, kisses with first loves, walk your child’s first steps again. Granted, I can do the same – to a point. The BZN-153 virus that ravages me, however, tends to take precedent over what I do, which is why instead of actually being stood on a beach on a summer vacation, I am actually in a decaying building with peeling wallpaper and piss-stained walls, munching on the conscious of this unlucky bastard. I do still have my own memories, after all, I was a person once – but they fade over time. Besides, the unfettered brain chemistry of the fearful and dying really does hit the spot. The human condition my friend – it’s what’s for lunch." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: the party finally arrived at the dark lord's palace. Entering the throne room they expected to face a terrifying demon king, but instead they found a small child wearing a crown holding a sword with shaking hands." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“By the creator it’s only a child...” Iris, leader of the ragtag band of demon hunters, cursed as his own hands shook. “I didn’t sign up for this...”\n\n“None of us did....”\n\nThe party of three had travelled together for decades, Iris a brave knight, Genesis, a Mage of great renown, and Lin, a bard there for the tales he could tell when their adventures were done.\n\nThe call of gold was too enticing for the group. “A demon has terrorised our village for centuries. Please. You must help us or there’ll be no one left!” The village elder had begged them for their help, and eager for a challenge they obliged. “The beast is cursed to be unable to leave the tower of its own free will, but it’s powers are so great it can control us from afar! Please, please you must stop it!”\n\nNow Iris wasn’t sure that all the gold in the world could entice him to attack the snivelling little girl, if she was even who they sought.\n\nThe crown upon her head was so big and heavy she looked as if she could barely keep her head upright. The sword was almost as big as she was, but the moment Lin stepped forward, she yelled, and dropped it to the ground with a clatter.\n\n“Lin-“\n\n“No, no.” He assured the others. “Allow me.”\n\nHe kneeled before her, showing his hands in surrender. “Are you safe? Are you trapped here?”\n\nShe nodded, and Lin recoiled in surprise as she flung herself into his arms.\n\nHe glanced to the others, with weapons still raised, and nodded at them. “Calm yourself, my friends. She’s frightened.”\n\n“I don’t trust this, and if you do, then you’re beyond help.” Genesis was nervous. The whole thing seemed odd to her, and where most days Lin would trust her intuition, today he ignored her to fawn over the little girl.\n\n“Don’t listen to my friend.” Lin spoke cheerfully, and the girl wiped her eyes and looked up at him.\n\nIris could help himself and approached her too, showing he too meant no harm.\n\n“Guys!”\n\n“What’s your name?”\n\n“Liz...”\n\n“Oh, lovely! My name is Lin, this is my friend, Sir Iris, and our other friend, Lady Genesis. We’re honoured to meet you.“\n\n“What are you doing here all alone?” Iris asked as he looked at the sword she wielded. It was flimsy, nothing more than a children’s toy.\n\n“My mother disappeared! I... I don’t...”\n\n“Well. The village told us a big scary demon lives on this castle... so we should get you out of here. Get you somewhere safe.”\n\n“Then we can come back and find your mother...! Take care of this demon problem once and for all.”\n\nLiz looked between the two men and nodded quickly. “Yes please!”\n\n“How old are you, Liz?” Lin asked her, taking her hand and kissing it, hoping that treating her as a princess would ease her fears.\n\nShe brightened, and smiled up at him. “I’m... seven!”\n\n“Well! What a well spoken seven year old! Come on. Iris can take you. He’s the muscles. No brains mind you, but plenty of muscles.”\n\n“Hey!” Regardless, Iris obliged, stopping by Genesis who continued to glare at the two. “Come on. What’s the matter?”\n\n“No trace of this demon, and you two are adopting a child!? This has trap written all over it. Well you can take her outside. I’ll stay right here.”\n\n“Maybe it’s for the best, you’re right. If you see hide or hair of the demon come running!”\n\nGenesis nodded to Lin, and walked them to the entrance. The magic in the air had been thick but the moment they crossed the threshold of the doors it dissipated. Genesis frowned. Why had she been thinking of magic? What had she stayed behind for when her friends needed her?\n\n“Wait for me!”\n\nShe raced after the others, unsure of why her thoughts felt so heavy and sluggish, until she saw the girl grinning over Iris’ shoulder, eyes red and her smile full of fangs. That was no child. Iris carried a grown woman, twisted horns coming from her head, and was none the wiser.\n\nShe stopped but blinked. She couldn’t recall why the sight was supposed to be so unnerving, but twirled her staff in her fingers and followed along.\n\nNone of them questioned the way Iris, the once brave and just knight gutted the woman in the village for daring to accuse Liz of being the demon they had been sent to kill. It didn’t feel wrong for the group to raze the village to the ground for accusing them of freeing the demon of its curse and dooming them all.\n\nNone of them questioned that Lin began to tell more macabre stories, sending children and adults away where his songs once delighted them. His stories were no longer to charm, but to draw a crowd so he could steal their coin purses, and any other valuables they dare keep on hand.\n\nNone of them questioned that Genesis’ magic turned darker, more twisted, until she may as well have been a vile demon herself. Her own blood fuelled her spells, until it wasn’t enough, and she would drain innocents of their life in the search of power.\n\nNone of them questioned the demon, Liz, who smiled and watched as she kept a control over her thralls.\n\nOff she would send them to fetch any money, fine foods or material things she could ever desire, now that she was no longer bound to her prison, her tower. The world was her plaything now." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: A man unknowingly runs from his arrest, and gets away with his \"crime\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He tip toed across the room,\n\ngathering his things and pulling them on as he went. Silently, vigilantly. They had\n\nclosed the door on their way in, in order not to wake her roommates with their\n\nmoans. Grasping the doorknob tightly, as if pressure would make it stop from\n\ngroaning, he turned it slowly, looking back at her to ensure she was still sound\n\nasleep. Beautiful, he thought, as he gazed at her dark, fully eye lashes perching\n\ncarefully on her high, prominent cheek bones. She was perfection and he was\n\nnothing but a man who was lucky enough to stumble across her. Her laugh still rung\n\nbetween his ears; He couldn’t wait to hear it again. The knob stopped suddenly and\n\nhe slowly creaked open the door. With one last look over his shoulder, first checking\n\non her, followed by the note he had left on the desk, he slipped through and shut\n\nthe door behind him.\n\n\tIt was 5 am and couldn’t have been more than 29 degrees;\n\nCold enough that even the birds didn’t feel like getting out of bed.\n\nWalking down the street, with last nights clothes and his gloved hands in his pockets, he\n\nsmiled to himself as he thought of her. They had just met, but he couldn’t help but feel\n\nthey would be more than just a one-night stand. It had been incredible, but what was\n\nmost prominent in his memory was laying with her after, her caressing his cheek and\n\nlooking lustfully into his eyes. Her eyes; So full of wonder, of knowledge, of lust. Sirens\n\nbroke the utter silence, as he shivered at the thought and grasped her phone\n\nnumber tightly in his pocket.\n\n\tHe hadn’t been entirely present,\n\nwith his head up in the clouds for the majority of the day. Customers who asked where to\n\nfind Chomsky had been sent to Cabot, horror to history, and fiction to fantasy. All he\n\ncould think about was her. As he was restocking magazines, however, the voice of a\n\nlocal newscaster caught his attention. There had been a sexual assault on the 59th\n\nblock W and local police were asking for the help of the public to find the assailant,\n\nwho had fled the scene between 4 and 7 am this morning. He shook his head, disgusted\n\nat what society had become. The shot transitioned from the news room to one panning\n\nan older, but quaint, known university area, which took him aback; Hadn’t he just walked\n\ndown that road this morning? The shot centred itself around the face of a young,\n\ntwenty-some girl, that told the story of her roommate, who had woken up alone and\n\nviolated early that morning. The girl blamed herself, she said. We knew she had come\n\nhome with someone, but hadn’t thought anything of it. The shot found its way back to the\n\nnews room, where the news presenter spoke of the girl, who had a history of mental\n\nillness, including bipolar and multiple personality disorder, and how hurt friends and\n\nfamily were that someone would take advantage of someone as caring and\n\npassionate as she. She had come to town to pursue a career in law. Suddenly, a\n\nsketch appeared on the screen. Although the nose was slightly larger, the mouther\n\nwider and forehead smaller, it was unmistakably him. He looked around to see if\n\nanyone had seen what he had, but the only other person in view of the TV was an\n\nolder man who had been working on a crossword for the past three hours. Taking\n\nthe number he had held so dear out of his pocket, he opened and gazed at it one\n\nmore time before throwing it in the nearest trash can." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: A man visits his grandfather's grave at a cemetery, but can't find it and discovers that his grandfather, and the entire rest of his family never existed." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It felt good to be state-side again. Dan Majors promised himself that the first thing he'd do when he got back would be to visit his grandpa's grave. It tore him up to learn that the old man had died when he was overseas. He'd been like a father to him after his parents were killed. Enlisting was his way of fighting back, despite the protests of the old man.\n\nThey didn't talk much after he left, something that he deeply regrets sneaking out of the hospital to visit his grave was the least he could do to make up for it. For some reason they wanted to keep him there, observation they called it, but his wounds had healed just fine. His slight limp caused him to wince now and again, but shrapnel tends not to let you forget about it.\n\nHis sister Annie kept him company in the hospital occasionally. They were close before he left. Their grandfather's death and his own injury seemed to run her ragged. Her usual talkative self sedated and subdued, she still fussed over him lovingly, if silently. She wouldn't be too happy about him leaving the hospital, especially without her. She had agreed with them that he had to stay there still. They didn't understand just how bad he felt; he'd promised.\n\nAnd so there he was, limping down the path between gravestones. It felt eerily familiar, walking past the headstones. Maybe it was just that there isn't much variation in graveyard design. He'd visited his parent's graves enough to be familiar with the layout. Still though, it was taking longer than he thought to find the marker. Dan was surprised at how exhausted he was, maybe they were right about his condition. The sun was beginning to set and he knew his sister would probably start looking for him soon.\n\nSure enough he heard her voice somewhere behind him. He hurried himself up a little bit, hobbling faster despite the twinges of pain. He was determined to say goodbye with at least a little bit of privacy before she aught him.\n\nJust under that big old tree, next to that fat little cherub. He wheezed out a breath of relief and leaned against the old man's. By the sound of running feet muffled by grass, he didn't have much longer.\n\nCoughing to clear his suddenly seized up throat, Dan blinked away the start of a few tears and looked up to read the headstone, then froze in confusion. It wasn't right, this wasn't his grandfather's grave. The stone was a couple's marker, for a Daniel and Margery, he must have gotten turned around somewhere. He could have sworn that that was the right place though, under the tree next to the cherub, between two graves with crosses on top. He was still confused and looking around when his sister arrived, panting and furious.\n\n\"Annie, where's grampa's grave? I could have sworn it was right here.\"\n\nHer angry eyes took on a sad glint as she approached. Something was definitely not right, she looked almost afraid that he might do something. He didn't know why, he would never hurt her; she was all he had left.\n\n\"Mr.Smith? We need you to come back now. It's almost night. We're lucky that I was the one that found you.\" She held out her hand and he tentatively took it.\n\n\"Smith?...Why did you call me Smith, Annie? I need to say goodbye to grandpa, I promised.\" She started gently moving him along with a hand on his back.\n\n\"There is no Annie, Jack, I'm Isabelle. Don't you remember? I've been your nurse for the past decade. \"\n\n\"Jack? My name is Dan...Dan Ma--\"\n\n\"Majors? I'm really sorry Jack, there is no Dan Majors, no Annie. We don't know anything about your grandfather. You've done this a few times before. Just come with me Jack, we'll get you back to your bed and back on the right medication. You'll feel better, I promise.\"\n\nHow could she say there was no Annie? He knew her face. It was her voice that said it. No Dan Majors....Daniel...Margery....\n\nJack started crying. His leg felt fine. He didn't have an Annie anymore, didn't have himself. Walking with a stranger between the graves of people long forgotten, he just felt like laying down." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Excalibur is not a sword. It is a weapon that appears in many forms, conferring extreme luck to the pure hearted chosen wielder. And the Lady is the giver of this weapon, who can also take many forms." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was cold as a witch's tit that mornin', but the deer ain't gonna put themselves in the freezer, ya know? Pa and me got up two hours before the sun thought about comin' up.\n\nAs we was a-creepin' up ta where we'd put the stand, mah sleepy brain finally noticed that the rifle case was a touch light.\n\n\"Daddy?\"\n\n\"What Artie?\"\n\n\"I think I fergot ta pack yer twelve gauge.\"\n\n\"What are you'n on about, boy?\"\n\n\"You wanted the twelve gauge pump. I fergot ta put it in the case.\"\n\nMy daddy is a good man, but sometimes he ain't a real patient one.\n\n\"Boy, I swear if brains were buckshot, you'd be shootin' blanks. You expect me t'scare the deer t'death?\"\n\n\"No, Daddy.\"\n\n\"An you 'member that there's a five hundred dollar prize for the biggest rack down at the VFW, don't ya?\"\n\n\"Yes, daddy.\"\n\n\"Well what ya waitin' fer? I told ya it'd be better ta jes sling it, but you didn't want to git it wet. I decided to humor ya, that's on me. You better git ta runnin' back and fetch that gun, ya here?\"\n\nI didn't need no further encouragement, so I took off like my pants was on fire. Now, I been wonderin' these woods fer better part of my life. I know 'em like I know the Gospel, even in the dark. Still, I zigged when I should of zagged an instead of comin' up past the shed, I came around behind our pool.\n\nNow that above ground pool is a lotta fun in the summer and Daddy kept tellin' Mama he was fixin' ta drain it, but he ain't done it yet. I come up on it and hear somethin' like splashin and there was some water and leaves sloshin' over the side. I thought our hound dog was about ta drown his self, so I got up on tha deck and took a look.\n\nI swear, right hand ta God and Bocephus that down in that pool, there was a real, real purty girl. She had on boots, Daisy Dukes, a flannel tied up over her belly button and a black Stetson on her head. She was just about the prettiest thing my fourteen year old eyes had ever landed on. I was about ta jump in, thinkin' she was drownin', but fore I could get my Carhartt off, she comes risin' up like she's a balloon. In her hand is the finest double barrel I ever did see. It had exposed hammers, this wavy pattern in the bluing on the barrels, and the wood was just as pretty as you please.\n\nShe lays there, smilin', holdin' that side by side just above the surface.\n\nYou ever look at somthin' an jes know it's yours? Like it's go yet name on it?\n\nWell, that's how this felt, except what was written on it was \"Excalibur\".\n\nI didn't know where a body could get x-caliber cartridges, but that weren't what I was thinkin'. She slung that thing at my head and I reached out, caught it.\n\nWe took down a twelve point buck that day. My first deer. My daddy showed me how t'dress it right, so ya don't knick the guts wrong an make it taste bad, like ya kin do.\n\nAnyway, that's why I reckon that I outts be yer class president. Vote for me!" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: The universe has ended. You and a select few become the gods of a new universe. You become the god of all living things. One day you stumble upon a being you did not create." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He knew of all that existed within this new existence, at least all that was living. They all were preoccupied with that which they had be designated, and he took great joy in what he created. He loved seeing the things that he gave life to discover the world, learn how to thrive with the gifts they were given. He could barely remember a time when things had been different, not that he even wanted to. The darkness of those early days matched poorly with the brightness of the world he helped create, so he shut them away, easily forgotten in the days that followed.\n\nHe filled his time with creating, new beings whose way of existing never ceased to fascinate him. The way they learned to function with the systems he had created for them was amazing, and he felt endless pride when they would accomplish any task at all. He kept endless tabs on each of them, making sure they were running smoothly and surely, trying to make a world where they were content and safe. For the most part, he succeeded.\n\nIt was on one such day that he came to notice an oddity in the works. He knew of everything that breathed in the universe, including his fellow deities. Yet, during a lull of activity on the various worlds, he became aware of a heartbeat that didn't match any other he had heard before. He located the source on a small rock, at the edge of the ever expanding darkness. The sound caused a distant sense of familiarity, one he didn't understand, and so he travelled the stars, venturing closer and closer to something he didn't understand.\n\nOnce arriving at the small asteroid, he was greeted by a girl. She sat, short yet sturdy, in the center of a small platform. Stunning in her own way, her dark skin was spattered with glittering freckles, with curly hair that shone with countless hues that shifted with her movements. Yet it was her eyes that captured him, for they seemed to contain the universe, filled with endless galaxies that seemed so familiar, yet didn't resemble any of the ones in this world.\n\nHe sat next to her, hesitating before returning her greeting. She smiled softly, knowingly, as though she could hear the questions that were racing through his mind. He couldn't keep the silence for long, soon asking her all that came to mind. Of who she was, how she came to be here, why she chose to exist alone at the edge of their existence. Her smile never fell, seeming to simply take on a contemplating quality as she thought of how to answer. Finally, she began to explain.\n\nShe spoke of a time before their world, when it was another collection of cosmos and worlds that existed in this space. Of a planet known as Earth that was so small yet so significant in the end. How they had all been known as humans then, simple creatures that still managed to do some great things (in between the highly common bouts of cruelty and stupidity). She explained that at one point each of the gods that now existed were humans, living in their own ways. Her smile grew as she spoke of him, an inspired botanist whose greatest joy came from the living beings he coaxed into thriving. How he cared deeply for each plant under his care. Her words caused a faint memory to come back to him, of a small apartment and far too many plants. He couldn't help but smile too.\n\nHer tone shifted, becoming darker as she spoke of the end of times, how the universe literally ripped itself apart. How they were left, only a few of them now, drifting in an endless and empty void. Yet suddenly it wasn't empty, for a bright glow surrounded them all, and they found that they could bring new things into creation, and thus, together, they formed the universe they now knew, leaving the old one to be forgotten.\n\nWhile most of what came before was lost to him, he had enough to be certain she spoke the truth. It seemed impossible that things had ever been different, yet he knew that they must have been at one point, for things were always in the process of change. As he contemplated the things he had learned, a thought occurred to him. He asked what her part in all of this was, why she stayed here so far from the rest of them. Would she not be happier to live with them? Where she could help them create new worlds and truly live?\n\nFor the first time her face was solemn, the galaxies in her eyes softly swirling. Voice now quiet, she explained how her purpose was not like that of the others. While they created the new and forgot the old, she was brought to be a recordkeeper of sorts. She held all the memories of their universe, while at the same time collected each new one from this one. For there is little that can ever truly be forgotten, not for an incomprehensible amount of time. She felt she was simply meant to observe, collecting and storing data without ever truly interacting. It had been a moment of weakness in which she had welcomed him, for she had never truly planned to speak to them at all.\n\nHe looked at her, while she bowed her head, shoulders strained with the amount of knowledge in her head. He placed a hand on her arm, and she looked up at him, eyes shadowed with the exhaustion her life in solitude had brought her. He simply looked at her, lost in thought for a time, before seeming to pull his attention back to the present. He offered an invitation to her, to come back with him and let them help her with the collection of memories. The best information can come from first hand sources after all, he added, brown eyes twinkling.\n\nShe hesitated, wavering between worlds in a way that seemed achingly familiar, as though it were a common practice. Yet now his words powered her determination, and so she nodded, taking his hand in hers. He could only imagine the reactions of the others, yet he found he did not care. Together they would figure out the worlds that were created, with both the vision of the future and the wisdom of the past.\n\nTogether they would create many memories, and he couldn't wait." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: After being imprisoned for being an immortal and therefore demonic creature, you were sentenced to death. Unable to carry out the sentence, they put you in a cage and then threw you into the sea. 300 years later you finally escape the cage and find yourself in the year 2018." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I refused to look away from the sun. It was a fire in my eyes, but I had missed it and was fine if I never saw anything like it again. For many years I thought I would never see it again. How long had it been, since I stood on dry land? It didn't feel like yesterday, It felt like it had never happened like I had been born in a steel prison bound in iron beneath the waves. On that beach I could forgive all of their hate, all of their fear. I could forgive them locking me away just knowing that now I was free.\n\nA dream I had once, being overpowered and sealed in a box with shackles on. A cage built around me to filter me out of the world. The long voyage to the middle of the sea and the last taste of fresh air, as I plunged in the dark cold world of the sea. Not like world I had left, it was small and painful. I like to think I held by breath for months but that's just not true. the cold filling me and becoming more of a part of me then before. Somehow it dried me out, the salt I think. I withered in the cold pressure. But I also thrived.\n\nIt's torture until you get used to not breathing then its sort of calming. Nowhere else will food happily swim in your mouth. Once fear and hate had become concentrated purpose I could focus on my goal: to live free of this prison. The coffin went first I bludgeoned through it with my shackles, then next were the shackles a twist of the wrist till the became two levers and broke each other apart, the same trick with my feet till I was just a man in a cage. The easy part had ended. I walked the rest of the way, pulling the cage up to my hips and running to shore. till I had to climb.\n\nThe cliff I had hit was impossibly tall I tried to climb it but I realized I had to compromise. I would leave the cage behind. Luck was something I thought I had spent and run out of. but there it was an anchor. A giant, very heavy pry bar sent by Poseidon my new patron. It was not easy rigging the anchor to pry open the cage, but no part of this was ideal. I remember the groan of steel it awakened me. A smile that cracked my lips was impossible to keep down it was not long before I crawled out of the cage prison and swam for the cliff.\n\nI was heavy unfortunately and the swimming went slow I could not float well without air and at this point I had no buoyant fat either. It was hard Half crawled half swam for forever eventually using tools I found along the way to go faster. I reached the sandy top with a harpoon in one hand and sharp driftwood in the other. I had not realized it was night and the surface was right there till I breached above the waves. Not till I was on the shore did I think to empty my lungs of the water. That first wave of oxygen awoke some forgotten dreams of a bed and hot food. A civility I thought eaten by my animalistic determination.\n\nI am the immortal that the world feared and forgot now only to remember me once more. I am Gilgamesh." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1300-1400 words. Prompt: You finally managed to kill the Hero/Heroine after vowing to do so years ago. Out of curiosity you unmask them, only to see the face of your lover." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Twenty years.\n\nIt’s been twenty years since I set my resolve to kill the nemesis that took my only love from me.\n\nI still remember the day like only mere minutes have passed. A lovely outing with a lovely man. I remember the way the wind played through his umber hair on the apartment rooftop where he supplied a surprise picnic to my utter delight. Squinting in the sun and smiles. I felt light; so completely free in those fleeting moments I spent with the brown-eyed boy.\n\nI wished so many times in tearful prayers that I could have just one more moment with him… feel that lightness just once again. My heart had never found it again, or anything like it.\n\nBeing a super makes everything so painfully difficult.\n\nYou see, I am the Golden Spear.\n\nI thought I had hid my identity well, perhaps well enough that Gavin would never truly be in danger from my alter ego. He would only ever know me as Clara, and being a normal woman was all I ever wanted anyways. I could build a life with this man… maybe even slowly disappear into obscurity while taking in the finer points of the mundane. I could be just a normal woman with this man by my side.\n\nI was wrong.\n\nRemembering that peaceful afternoon is always tainted with the remembrance of how it ended, and how my decades long vendetta began.\n\nI had heard a commotion from street level, but chose to ignore it… probably just a traffic accident anyways from the sound of it. Didn’t sound like anything fatal, but Gavin also heard the honking horns and shouting and went to investigate while peering over the ledge of the ten-story building.\n\nHe stood staring for just a moment, then turned to lock eyes with me as tears welled in his. He seemed unnaturally rigid as the breeze rustled the fabric of his white button down.\n\nHe mouthed something I couldn’t hear …then leapt.\n\nMy powers flared to life, engulfing me in the golden flames that would hopefully be my dear lovers salvation. Moving with such force it threatened to tear my floral sundress from my body, I reached out towards the ledge. Even with super speed it was so devastatingly slow in my sandaled feet.\n\nAs I readied myself to make the leap, a shadowed figure rose above the rooftop edge directly in my path.\n\nI skidded to a stop.\n\nThe masked man hovered before me, clad in black from head to toe and appearing as nothing but a void in the sunlight at his back.\n\nHe raised his hand at me and muttered a single word…\n\n“sleep”\n\nAnd my world went black.\n\nWhen I woke I had never felt cold like that before or since. Waking in the pre-dawn light, shaking and soaked in morning moisture It was as if ice had dripped into the very core of my being as I came to the groggy realization that I was far too late to save Gavin.\n\nThat was the day I had vowed to kill the masked man known as Psyche.\n\nDue to his psychokinetic powers, he has always eluded me… he could control both physical objects as well as the minds of those he targeted. This particular power had caused hundreds of near misses over the years as I simply forgot what I was doing or decided to go to the beach randomly instead of taking him out.\n\nAnnoying was not the word for it.\n\nAlways one step ahead of me , he has always managed to narrowly miss the sharp end of my weapon manifested from my own energy.\n\nEven when the local papers started touting him as a new “hero” I refused to relent.\n\nA few foiled bank robberies does not make up for killing the sweetest man to ever walk this earth. I knew it was him who controlled Gavin that day to leap to his death.\n\nBut thanks to advancing technology I may just be able to get the drop on him. A friend that happens to sympathize with my cause also discovered that brainwaves have a signature similar to RF frequencies… so that means they can also be jammed. And I now had a shiny new helmet.\n\nThe next time would be drastically different.\n\nAs soon as my hearing started picking up reports of a bank robbery in progress, I knew he would be there.\n\nI laid in wait from the rooftop across the street, as Psyche flew in his typical over-flashy display of his powers.\n\nA couple of years ago he started wearing a cape of all things … and he began looking like a midlife-crisis Magneto knock-off.\n\nIt would only be a few minutes now.\n\nI began to flare my energy, concentrating it to my right hand and forming the “golden spear” that was my namesake.\n\nAt the first sign of pitch black that my eyes detected through the doorway of the First National I let it fly true… and this time it hit.\n\nPsyche fell to the stone steps of the bank, my spear disappearing as he landed on his back.\n\nI was then overcome with the strangest impulse to look into his eyes as the light left them. It would only be the icing on the cake at that point.\n\nI leapt down from my rooftop perch and approached the man that caused me so much pain, so much loss.\n\nHe laid moaning on the steps, the gaping hole in his chest bleeding at sporadic intervals. He was using his powers to stem the bleeding.\n\nFigures.\n\nI looked at him triumphant in his feeble state as I closed the gap and ripped the mask from his face as the final insult to the man who took my everythi….\n\n“Hey, Clara. Nice helmet”\n\nNo.\n\nThe same tears welled up in familiar brown eyes that I haven’t seen in twenty years.\n\nMy body weighed a million tons as I dropped to my knees beside him and took in his face. It looked more creased, more lined, but it was much the same. A thin trickle of blood blossomed from the corner of his lips but yet he smiled at me…\n\nI looked down at the hole in his chest now in abject horror as my hand with shaking fingers now reached out over him…\n\n“Yeah, it’s fatal… I can keep from bleeding out right away by focusing on the blood vessels in the area but it only buys me a little time”\n\nI could feel my face get hot and unshed tears gather in my eyes as my lower lip began to quiver. One word was able to slip from my mouth …\n\n“…why?”\n\n“I’m so sorry Claire-bear, but I had to. When I heard your mind that first day I knew exactly who you were, and was so excited to find someone like me. Those months were the best of my life, but I also noticed something. The more time you spent with me, the more things you started to ignore. That day on the rooftop was the last straw for me. People got hurt, Clara and you ignored it because you were with ME. It had to stop. Nobody knows why we are given these gifts… but if you can help people with them … that’s our calling. “\n\nTears poured down my face in hot streams as I now held his face in my hands. A heavy sob wracked my throat and caught there. I had so much hatred for this man … this was karmas ultimate betrayal.\n\n“Gavin, I’m so sorry “\n\n“Shhh shhh it’s ok, you’re ok”\n\nHe lifted one hand to remove my helmet as I leaned my forehead to his chest. He stroked my hair and whispered into my ear\n\n“I love you, Clara. Always have. Keep using your gifts in memory of me …sleep”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Every morning for years you walk a mile to get to work. You know every door, person, and uneven sidewalk crack on your route. Today was different--a strange door in an ally way appeared. Curious, you decide to knock. \"You finally saw it! I need your help,\" the devil says and pulls you inside." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As the devil pulls closer with a look of desperation he pointed me in the direction of a small futon and gestures for me to sit. I very much obliged, yes out of genuine curiosity but to a larger extent not to upset the devil.\n\n“Can I get you anything? Sprite? Coke? Pepsi?” The Devil asks as his desperation turns to mild relaxation.\n\nAfter a bit of a pause the devil looks at me with a puzzled look until a shade of light red embarrassment spreads across his already crimson face. “Oh I’m so sorry, my name is Lucifer J. Rasta and I’m the Devil.”\n\nA slight grin peaks over my lips exposing my rapidly growing smile breaking my more concerned straight face. “Oh I imagined as much, I’ll take a sprite, but I must ask why am I here? What do you need me for?”\n\nWith a breath of excitement he summons a sprite from thin air and places it on a silver plate, the lord of darkness then preceded to place the plate in my hands. As I picked up the glass I saw that underneath was a blank picture. I looked back towards the Devil slightly puzzled.\n\nThe Devil responded with “Turn it over, See I need help running a........”\n\nWith a spite take of my sprite I blurted out “A THAI RESTAURANT?”\n\nThe paper, turned over to reveal a the storefront of a generic Thai restaurant in LA or some such city.\n\n“Yes, come on don’t laugh” the Devil begs.\n\nI try to piece myself together letting out slight grins inconsistently long enough to ask “why”.\n\n“You work at a Thai restaurant right? You could help me set it up in downtown LA, it will look great” the Devil proclaims\n\n“Okay but I mostly just wash dishes, I don’t know the first thing about opening a restaurant, why do you need a Thai restaurant so much anyway?”\n\nI can see a dark cloud forming around the Devil, he removes his reading glasses while simultaneously falling back into a chair of despair. “You see, Hell’s not as profitable as I once imagined, it’s become bland and generic, everyone hates it and it’s to fucking hot 90% of the time, all the AC gets vented up to Heaven because I can’t really afford it and God keeps jacking up the rent, as a result I no longer rule there, I signed control over to a board of directors while I went to find myself. And after several years I wondered across Thailand. And do you know what I found in Thailand Nick?”\n\n“Um Pineapple Curry”? I’m Nick by the way.\n\n“Pineapple Curry” the Devil replies as he nods. “But when I went back to hell to pitch my new idea of opening up a Thai restaurant the new government laughed at me. They followed with some charts and corporate speak until I stormed out”.\n\n“That’s awful, but I’m not entirely sure why you nee...........”\n\nthe Devil interrupts “we need you to wash dishes”.\n\n“Wait what”\n\n“We need a dish washer and no one I know from from Hell wants to move to LA they say it’s somehow worse, anyway your the best available, you will be payed a additional $5 and I’ll even pay for you gas, when you have to make a delivery, c’mon I need this” the Devil falls on the ground looking up with puppy dog eyes.\n\n“I’m in” as I high five the Lord of Darkness starting our Thai restaurant together." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: There is a virus going around. A virus wich transforms their hosts into massive monstrosities. Several more limbs, wings, a tail and even tentacles, enough strength to lift a mountain and enough dexterity to survive a full on nuke. And through all of that they retain their human intellugence." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The human genome is fascinating. While some of it codes for your height, certain protein productions, eye colour, a large part of it is generally considered useless. Junk DNA, that has no obvious use. Of course some non-coding DNA sequences have some sort of function, but a good amount of it is just leftovers from evolution. Like old patches in a program, now overwritten and made useless by new and better functions. But it's still there, waiting. Some scientists for instance found that humans have all the genetic coding needed to grow feathers, but lack the protein activation for this to happen.\n\nWhat would happen if something began to activate all this leftover non-coding DNA?\n\nPerhaps we'd see somebody gain traits of earlier evolutionary stages. Perhaps it'd kill the person with this unfortunate happenstance. Nobody ever expected this to happen, but the universe is prone to cause unlikely circumstances to come to pass, despite the wildly improbably odds of them happening. It starts in a laboratory, deep beneath a mountain, in a country where the ludicrously large military industrial complex combined with an incompetent government, results in budget cuts to safety procedures in this bioweapon laboratory. Insufficient sterilisation protocols of biowaste, resulted in a virus escaping in a truck transporting the waste. It might have died, had the incompetent cheapskates of the morally reprehensible and generally inept system running the bioweapons research facility not hired the cheapest people to dispose of the waste. So instead of going to an incinerator, it is dumped in a forest. Where rodents, birds, and other scavengers feast happily on what was once a human test subject. Which is a horrible prospect, but nobody ever notices when the government kidnaps the homeless to run horrible medical experiments on them, so that's just the way of life.\n\nThey are not affected. But they are carriers. It doesn't take long from there. A man running through the forest with his dog is bit by an insect, carrying the virus. He is patient zero. It takes him a full seven days for the virus to incubate. In that time his dog becomes a carrier, his fiancé is infected, and so are their kids. He also infects a total of 371 other individuals, as his job is a chef at a trendy café in the city closest to the bioweapons research facility. Seattle. From there it spreads across the country, over the borders, and by the time the man checks himself into the hospital because he is growing weird fleshy extrusions on his back, it's already too late. First day in the hospital they run tests on him. Second they put him in isolation. Third day, he is retrieved by the government. His fiancé is already covered in feathers. His children are growing claws, suitable for climbing in trees, such as our ancestors did. His children are lucky. Due to them already being in a state where they are growing and changing already, their mutation stabilises. He, however is covered in chitin. And he has grown to be nearly twice as big as he was before.\n\nAnd all over the world, the same situation is repeated. Some nations react differently. China collapses as the leadership orders the extermination of the mutated, despite the number of infected growing faster than can be contained. Russia seals several of their scientific cities, those deep in Siberia that has only numbers for names, where the USSR once created nightmares and marvels in order to win the cold war. In these cities, humans work frantically on reversing the mutations. On finding a cure. The US handles the infection poorly. Congressional gridlock, infighting in the senate, eventually as the virus kills the president, being old and weakened, the situation snaps. Martial law is put into place across all 50 states. Washington DC is purged of all those who have been working against fixing the problems caused by this rapid mutagenic plague across both parties. And dire as the situation is, the offending members are purged by firing squad. Nothing will stand in the way of restoring order and helping the people, or so says the new president on their inaugural speech. The observant viewers could already see early signs of the new president being just as infected as most of the rest of the country.\n\nBy 2029, 30% of the human race has died off. The old from being too fragile to withstand the changes, and many others were killed by the paranoia and stress of living in a society where anyone could change into a monstrous creature. Sometimes the mutations were just, too unstable. Resulting in sudden biogenic collapse, where you just cease to be capable of holding together on a molecular scale, and just dissolve into piles consisting of your molecules. Unsurprisingly, the number of uninfected or unchanged humans, have reached less than 100 million. The rest of humanity, have mostly been stabilised in their current mutated shapes. The virus, being itself highly mutagenic, had quickly grown into various different strains. Usually ones adapted to different situations and environments. But one common trait is retained in all infected, the mind remains mostly unaltered. Sentience is not destroyed. Though some dearly wish that they did not have to live through such a disease. Still, some have been quite lucky, in their mutations. Physical density and temperature resistance strong enough to survive a small nuclear attack. Though of course the radiation and heat will usually still cook your innards, but the body remains intact. Enormous strength, with some rumours of near superman-ish levels of power. Though outside of a small settlement in Kansas, these rumours are considered quite ludicrous. Still, men and women strong enough to benchpress cars are seen.\n\nThe strains however, seems to favour certain activations of very specific traits. The few generalist strains found themselves unable to reproduce efficiently due to their hosts simply dying because of the required energy in the changes, burning the bodies out completely. In Europe and North Africa, the most common strain caused the living generations to acquire some traits of the felidae family. Such as advanced agility, partial or full physical fur covering, high skeletal mobility, limited to severe bone structure alterations, and better sense of hearing and smell. The children born after the infection, are mostly smaller than average, and have also seemed to stabilise in a new late stage mutation, of feline eyes, because of a higher number of rods in their eyes that are sensitive to dim light. Many have also grown longer spines, ending in what seems, from a zoological and macrobiological point of view, to be a hybrid form between feline and primate tails." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: Hush, hush, mommy's gonna eat you now." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Please stop, it hurts!” pleaded Tanya, tears beginning to stream down her face. “I’m sorry. Please let me go.”\n\n“What did I specifically tell you not to do?” Tanya’s mother asked her sternly, a fistful of her daughter’s pony tail in her wrinkled hand.\n\n“You… you told me… not to play… with the boys… in the park,” replied Tanya in between sobs.\n\n“And what did you do?”\n\n“I played… football with them… but they said… they would take away Teddy if I didn’t!” she explained.\n\n“Then you should have let them! It’s always Teddy this, Teddy that, for chrissake, you’re already twelve and still carrying that smelly toy around!”\n\n“But… but… he means… so much to me!” Tanya burst into tears. It wasn’t her fault she was attached to her childhood toy. After all, that’s what she grew up with. And it was the only thing left from her late father who had passed away during a fire in their old house.\n\n“That’s still no reason to play with the boys!” said her mother. “How many times do I have to repeat myself? This isn’t the first time you’ve disobeyed my direct orders.”\n\n“I know… I’m truly sorry… I promise never to do it again,” said Tanya, whose knees and neck were sore from the awkward position she was being held in.\n\nHer mother sighed. Ever since her husband died, life had taken a turn for the worse. Her days and nights were barely discernible. They bled into one another. She spent more time in bed than in the rest of the house. It felt like she only rose from bed just to yell at her children. No wonder they despised her.\n\nTanya’s two siblings disappeared last year; which left her, the youngest one, to take care of her mother. Tanya believed because of that, her mother was extremely paranoid of people outside the house. So Tanya spent a lot of time by her side, making sure that she was alright.\n\nHowever, she still got to go to school on weekdays – her mother didn’t want to chance it with the authorities showing up at her doorstep lest they took her or Tanya away. Tanya could lead a normal life, all she had to do was come back home each day before the sky got dark so she could cook dinner for her mother. It wasn’t too difficult, but Tanya made a mistake.\n\nToday, when she was walking home after school, she was teased by some cute boys by the park. And while they didn’t force her to play football with them (that was a lie she had told her mother), she wanted to get to know the cute boy with the brown hair a little better. Having a little too much fun getting to know him, she had lost track of time and rushed home in a sweat. She didn’t have time to clean her shoes before she stepped in the house and was greeted by her mother. Which was how she ended up kneeling on the ground at the mercy of her mother’s grasp.\n\nTanya felt her mother’s hands let go of her pony tail. She turned around to see her mother walking away from the front door into the kitchen.\n\n“Mommy?” she called out.\n\nNo response.\n\nTanya put her school bag down, stood up and brushed her sore knees. She wiped the tears from her face when she heard her mother call her from the kitchen.\n\n“Tanya, do you remember what your brother and sister said to me before they went away?”\n\n“No. I don’t remember you saying anything…” responded a puzzled Tanya as she walked towards her mother. “What did they-”\n\nThe girl was cut off mid-sentence as she turned the corner into the entrance kitchen. Tanya felt a sharp pain in her chest as she saw her mother standing right in front of her – with a grin on her face and her hands gripping onto what appeared to be a knife that was now half-buried in her body.\n\n“Mommy?” Tanya’s vision begin to blur as she felt the pain in her chest growing in intensity. “Mommy!” she started yelling. “What are you doing?!”\n\nTanya couldn’t believe what was happening.\n\n“Your brother and sister said the same thing as you, except they put up much more of a fight!” laughed her mother maniacally as she retracted the blade and plunged it into Tanya’s chest again. “You’re such a pathetic little girl!”\n\nTanya screamed, flailed her arms and tried to push her mother away. It was no use, she had the strength of a wet noodle. She felt her consciousness and life fading away as the blood drained out of her body into the puddle at her feet.\n\n“Mommy…” she whimpered. The knife dug deeper into her body. “Mommy…”\n\nTanya felt the knife leaving her body again, this time when it re-entered her, it was in her throat. The little girl started bleeding from her neck.\n\n“It’s okay, all is forgiven,” she heard whispered in her ear as her mother pulled her close.\n\n“Mommy…” the girl managed to mutter out, her body now limp in her mother’s arms.\n\n“Hush, hush, mommy’s gonna eat you now.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Listening to the radio on your morning commute, you realize what you're hearing is from several months or years into the future." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Traveling on the superhighway made him feel small, but interconnected to part of something giant. A red blood cell tumbling down a vein leading back to the heart, pushed through the super body. Or a white blood cell, part of the immune system, able to shoot out pseudopods and destroy a bacteria's cell wall, its insides gushing out, absorbing into the blood's plasma. He imagined this so intensely that the redness of blood invaded his vision until he let the fantasy completely take over for a split second. The sky was like a giant muscle, and the sun, humanity's brain.\n\nHe nearly missed his exit, quickly coming back to reality and switching on his turn signal. His brain stopped ignoring the sounds of traffic, and the pressure of the real world made him feel claustrophobic. His anxiety was overwhelming. He needed to get it checked out by a doctor.\n\nMost of the time, his imagination did not completely overwhelm his senses, turning the world into overblown science fiction cinema and threatening to shut him out of reality completely. Only when he was on the superhighway, commuting to work, slipping into auto-pilot, relaxing his vigilant watch over his sanity did he totally lose it. And only for a split second.\n\n\"In the news, a man saved the lives of three teenagers who inadvertently put themselves in danger on Saturday. The teenagers were at a convenience store when a gas pump exploded at the handle.\" Jim turned the radio up a bit as he rounded the exit to work. \"The shocked teens were looking for the source of the first explosion when Jim Branson heroically pushed them out of danger. The second explosion, larger than the first, ignited the underground reserves of gasoline and destroyed the entire parking lot. . .\"\n\nJim Branson. The office would find it funny that Jim, the clerk from the second floor, shared the name of a real hero. He considered pranking everyone in the Umbridge building and pretending it really was him.\n\n\"It's not the first time Jim Branson has been in the right place at the right time. Last week, he saved hundreds of people when the Umbridge building collapsed. It was impossible to predict the sink hole would open up that day, but Jim followed his gut and evacuated the entire office, somehow knowing there was danger.\"\n\nWait, the Umbridge building collapsed? He glanced at the radio knobs. What?\n\n\"His sixth sense allows him to react in those situations before anybody else knows what's happening. A real superhero. . .\"\n\nHe couldn't even hear the radio anymore. At thirty miles per hour, there is little sense of speed to one who is used to driving. Jim felt like he had completely stopped moving. In front of him, a bright fissure opened in the air, from which a winged angel descended. It pointed a huge sword directly at Jim and spoke its message:\n\n\"You, Jim Branson, will receive a gift from heaven. God has chosen you to be the savior of the planet. You will be granted superpowers in order to fulfill a great mission.\"\n\nHe unblinkingly stared at the digital clock, waiting for reality to return.\n\nThe sound of the radio slowly faded in. It finally seemed real to him again. But how would he get everyone out of the Umbridge building? Wait, was the sink hole opening today? How was he supposed to know? What was he supposed to do?" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: The monster under the bed really there to protect the sleeping children from darker forces" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was Goral’s first night working as a monster under this kid’s bed. In fact it was his first night under any kid’s bed. He didn’t think that he would be this nervous. Goral had heard the horror stories that the veterans would tell the young monsters. He had always half suspected that they would exaggerate their stories just to scare the young ones, but there had to be a lot of truth to them. After all, many of the monsters did not come home from their night’s work protecting their assigned child.\n\nGoral was scanning his assignment’s file. His name was Jimmy and he just turned four today. The kids were usually around four or five when they were first assigned a monster. He wondered if he would be able to actually become friends with Jimmy despite that all of the veterans always said that it was impossible, they always get scared and tell their parents. If they only knew how many kids have been saved by the monster’s tireless devotion to protecting their kids.\n\n“Goodnight, Jimmy.”\n\n“Night, daddy.”\n\nGoral was growing more anxious as Jimmy’s father closed. It was almost time. He just had to wait for Jimmy to fall asleep.\n\nShould I check?\n\nNo, it hasn’t even been a minute yet.\n\nRight, right, let’s give it five minutes.\n\nGoral hoped that he hadn’t actually been talking to himself out loud and had managed to keep it all in his head. His buddies would laugh and make fun of him if he got caught by his kid on the first night.\n\nAfter what seemed like hours, but was really only a handful of minutes, Jimmy stopped tossing and turning. Goral dared peek out from under the blanket that was hanging down to the floor. The room was pretty dark, the only light was the faint light of the moon coming through the window. The sparse light and Goral’s inherent night vision that all bed monsters have allowed him to get a good view of half of the bedroom. He couldn’t see anything strange and everything seemed normal.\n\nGoral hesitated and listened to see if he could hear Jimmy. All he heard was Jimmy’s rhythmic breathing that signaled that he was sound asleep. Now was his time to get to work. Goral gripped the bottom edge of the bed, his long and pointed nails digging into the wood as he slid himself out from under the bed. He had remembered what he was trained, always slide out on your back so that you can see if anything is about to attack from the bed. Thankfully, nothing was waiting to spring down on the rookie monster.\n\nAfter he was fully out from under the bed, Goral rolled over and pushed himself up to his feet. He was facing the window and quickly took a step to the side into the shadows so that if someone happened to look up at the window he wouldn’t be seen. Goral heard a slight ruffling noise behind him and froze.\n\n“You idiot,” he thought. “You didn’t wait long enough, he was still awake. Now he has seen you. Damn it!”\n\nGoral turned toward the bed, figuring he would get it over with quick and after he knew he was spotted, he would dive back under the bed and return home humiliated. Instead of seeing Jimmy sitting there staring at him or laying there frozen in fear with his blanket pulled up to his eyes, Goral saw that it was there already. He couldn’t believe it was happening already, Jimmy hadn’t even been asleep for ten minutes, but it was already trying to get him. It hadn’t spotted Goral yet, he had to act quickly.\n\nJust as Goral began moving toward the bed, it caught notice of him. It was standing next to Jimmy’s head and quickly lifted his head up toward Goral. The glowing red eyes of Jimmy’s new teddy bear made direct contact with Goral’s violet eyes. The same teddy bear that Jimmy’s dad had told him would keep him safe and sound while he slept. If they only knew that once the kids were asleep that the true nature of those horrible creatures.\n\nThe bear lifted his stuffed paw and pointed it toward Goral and growled, “This one is mine, monster! Leave now and I will let you live.”\n\n“Not a chance, bear. You will not harm him!”\n\n“I need his soul, it is mine to take. I need it to live!” The bear leapt off the bed, surprising Goral with how fast and far he could jump. The bear thudded into Goral’s chest and startle him by sinking his, now present, claws into the sides of his neck, holding on tight.\n\nGoral stumbled backwards and he tried to fight the bear off him. He grabbed one of the bear’s arms and pulled it off from his neck and leaned his face down to the bear. He bit down with his sharp teeth onto the bear’s shoulder. The bear started to scream in pain, but Goral knew it would wake Jimmy so he shoved his other fist into the bear’s mouth. He knew he had a good hold on him and that now was his chance. Goral dove head first, turning so that he landed on his back and began sliding under the bed. Once he had the bear under the bed he would be powerless.\n\nThe impact of the landing caused Goral to release his bite and as they slid under the bed, the bear’s head smacked against the side of the bed with a barely audible thud. This caused Goral to lose his grip on the bear. He knew that if he fell home without the bear, he would not have enough time to make it back to save Jimmy. Just as he was starting to fall he made a desperate grasp as the bear. He felt his soft and furry throat on his long fingers and squeezed hard. The bear choked as he was pulled under the bed. They both fell through the darkness, emerged into the light and landed hard on the monster’s home turf. The bear fell from Goral’s grip when they landed. He sat up looking for the bear and expecting him to leap back to action, but it just lay there motionless next to him.\n\nGoral stood up and, after bending down to pick the lifeless bear up, he noticed a small group of veteran monsters looking at him. They all shared the same approving smile and gave him a slight nod. Goral turned and slowly made his way to the pit, the bear hanging from his clenched fist. He was shocked at how exhausted he was after such a short battle, but he found the strength to rear back and heave the bear into the pit. He watched it fall and land soundlessly, joining countless other discarded teddy bears." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: You are known as the lazy immortal king nobody ever saw you do any kind of work in the kingdom although your kingdom in a good economical state taxes are low the people wanted to dethrone you you said fine and left the next morning everything in the kingdom stopped working." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "For eight hundred years, the Golden Emperor ruled the kingdom from his golden throne. The Empire was, of sorts, a constitutional monarchy; everyone went by the whims of the Emperor, when he actually passed down an order, but that was so rare that on those few times anyone actually broke his rulings, often they'd forgotten he even had an Imperial Guard to enforce his rule; equally immortal, and, for the most part, equally lazy. For the most part, the day to day running of the Empire was done by the Imperial Senate; a band of representatives from each province, who would gather once a year and vote.\n\nThe Emperor's laziness was renowned; though he had the power of Veto over the senate, he'd only used it once every thirty or forty years; seemingly at random. He would come in to veto a budget proposal, stop a war, or prevent some petty scheme; but allow a dozen others to go through. He shared his opulent lifestyle with an endless voluntary procession of women, usually two or three living with him at a time, and had thousands of children; all very long-lived, unusually healthy, but not themselves immortal.\n\nIn the year of his reign, 802, the Emperor came down from his throne, summoned the senators earlier than their usual annual meeting, and vetoed the budget; specifically condemning the called-for increase in the military; and suggested his subjects consider less earthly pursuits, such as space exploration. When he returned to his palace, the military soon followed.\n\nA plan, over a decade in the making, had been enacted. Some people liked the emperor, yes; but he never did anything himself, simply told others what to do or not to do; and that rarely, treating the kingdom as his own personal toy rather than taking its rule seriously. Most of the time they could ignore him, and pretend to be a republic, a democracy; but with each passing year, the people grew more unsettled.\n\nA contingent of tanks and guardsmen arrived at the Emperor's palace, and declared that the Senate had voted to overthrow the Emperor. From this point forward, the head of the Senate would maintain power, and none could veto or over-rule its decrees. There was a touch of fear; the Imperial Guard were immortal, legendary warriors; some of them the Emperor's children, others elite warriors of history inducted into the ranks. There was no question that tanks and bombs would win the day; but if these legends were to step onto the battlefield, the destruction would be catastrophic.\n\nThe guards started to lift weapons; a blend of those a few years old to centuries old; but the Emperor raised a hand. They stopped. \"So be it. None may enter the palace without permission. Do as you wish.\" The military stopped. The orders had been to take the Emperor in, but avoid a fight if possible. After a few quick calls, it was determined this was acceptable; the Emperor would be, effectively, exiled to his own home. As it would turn out, his home wasn't simply a palace; but a vessel; an enormous, ancient sailing ship, steadily updated periodically, that now simply sailed out to sea; not to be seen again for years.\n\nAt first, things went well. The move was popular, and those who liked the Emperor were appeased by the Senate's decision to let him live in his home rather than sieze it and imprison him. The budget passed, the military expanded, and serious progress was made in conquering the rest of the world; the Empire expanded; already consisting of one full continent, over a quarter of the world's surface, it reached half within a decade. The rest of the world seemed poised to fall in line; none believed the Empire could be withstood, in the long run, and efforts were made not to win, but to make the victory as costly as possible for the tyrants. The delicate peace of the past eight hundred years had collapsed, and a single world government seemed inevitable.\n\nThen the budget collapsed. Poor decisions resulted in so little money remaining that the programs for those without work were ended, and out in the field, soldiers were not being paid; and abandoned their posts to take up other careers to support their families. When a few of these soldiers were declared AWOL and ordered executed, the Empire fell into chaos; a civil war that spanned over a decade; and ended with the Empire only slightly larger than before the Emperor left power, and surrounded by vicious enemies. Planning errors and reduced restrictions had led to poisoned air and water, low food supplies, and ever-dwindling resources.\n\nWith each passing year, the situation grew worse. Amidst the chaos, a rallying call went out; calling for the return of the Emperor, hoping that he could save it; after all, he had kept it afloat and prosperous for over eight hundred years. The Emperor's boat was found easily enough; it had been coming and going from a small island nation, thousands of miles away, serving more as a luxury cruise vessel than anything serious. When a representative of the Senate asked permission to board, it was granted; and he was led to the old familiar throne room; somehow different, with the slow swaying of the waves.\n\nHours of pleading, begging, offering anything, including his seat of power back, fell on deaf ears. They quickly discovered that the Emperor had only seemed lazy; all those centuries he'd been carefully maintaining his Empire, constantly having his servants make minor moves in the background, only acting in an obvious way when absolutely necesary. Now that he had truly had a vacation, he decided he enjoyed it; and would spend a century or two having fun. The Empire could grow up and clean up its own mess; then he might come back." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You have the power to speak anything into existence. You say it, and it happens. Over the years you've learned to communicate with other means then speech. Only problem is, you sleep talk." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I wake up in the lead-lined box I’ve had to sleep in since it happened. Last night, I dreamt I was in a childrens party. My child’s party. I brush aside the balls from the ball pit, avoid slipping on the cake lying on the floor, and put my feet down. The dim room is lit as the strip light across the ceiling lights up, both drowning out the dim emergency exit sign and blasting my retinas. Rub eyes. Knock three times on door. While the slow actuators work their magic and open the chamber, I search around, finding a dressing gown, and the whiteboard I have to use for communication. My husband is on the other side of the door. “Good morning dear” he mutters, and pecks me on the cheek. “Good morning” I simply reply. And it shall be.\n\n‘It’ happened on the dot of midnight, 24th May 2018. In the past three years, the world had changed massively. Mostly thanks to me. Some changed had been simple. While testing out the next morning, I identified a few things. Physical objects I didn’t have a limit, or not one that had been found. Living beings, I could alter but not create or destroy. That was obviously the hardest bit.\n\n“Two large English breakfasts” the plates clatter down in front of us. “One glass of orange juice. One cup of english breakfast tea.” Sat around the small, round table, I scribbled on the whiteboard ‘Party again’. He hugs me close. “I know it’s hard. You have to look at the positives, what we have. You’re the woman who cured cancer. You solved world hunger” Pragmatic, as ever. It’s not like I tried hard with either of those. “A cure for cancer” provided two fat lab books, and a post it note- “Attn Gunther Schieder, Munich”. Finding him had taken an afternoon, and three months later his face was over every newspaper, every periodical. Time’s man of the year. Nobel prizes in Medicine and Chemistry, in the same year. He still doesn’t know where the books came from. World hunger was even easier, one morning, every village and every town had a new well- this one filled with rice. Deconstructing them proved pointless, and after the World Health Organisation deemed the rice edible, and done. I’d swap it all back in an instant\n\nMy day was comprised of mostly watching television with Grant, as the ethics panel discussed. After the world food issue, I decided I needed one. Top secret, naturally. I’d be mobbed if these powers got out. The food and cancer cures within a week were bad enough. Each government could suggest one issue per month. Five independent ethics experts discussed, and I got a list every Friday, usually comprising three or four items. Today was tuesday, so I had another few days. I was supposed not to say a word saturday to Thursday, but what were they going to do? Fire me? Having meals provided, and the occasional DVD- assuming I was implicit with wording, was never going to cause harm. Sometimes it could even be funny- April fools I always greeted Grant with “Good morning, honey”- as I had three years ago. Cleaning the carpet while he showered was always worth it.\n\nLeaving the house had to be a well-planned affair. I didn’t do shopping any more- why? But sometimes just sitting in the sun in a park is a reward of its own. I tried to go out of school holidays, for obvious reasons. A walk in the countryside always perked me up, too. Pointing at the trees- ‘Identifying’ them. I wonder how many invasive species I’d caused. Same with birds. And bugs.\n\nIt had been a shame I couldn’t move house. “Too obvious” the ethics committee had said. I could see their point. Sure, we could no longer have guests, but the hardest part was the lead lined room. I just wanted to be away from that. Stop the nightmares of Rich’s party. It had been his birthday today, three years ago. We’d had a beautiful party, and the weather was fantastic, it was such a warm day. I should’ve changed the bedclothes, opened a window, whatever. But it was too busy, as so many two year olds make you. I remember nothing of that night. But at some point, I must have muttered “Fire”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: As the sandcastle erodes, a strangely familiar old man in regal dress says \"I too, have lost a kingdom. Let us start anew together.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Armando looked up, his interest far more then piqued. And indeed, this elderly man's offer did seem encouraging. His sandcastle was intricate and detailed. He had even gone through the trouble of making tiny sand structures that represented archers and swordsmen tasked with protecting his sandy fiefdom.\n\n\"W...who...are you?\" asked the curious 10 year old child.\n\nThe elderly man laughed, and rubbed his beard in contemplation for a few moments, before sighing.\n\n\"Do you accept my offer?\"\n\nArmando looked at his preoccupied and neglectful parents, currently engaged in playing volleyball with some of their business friends. Armando never did understand his parents, nor did they understand Armando, and the creative imaginations he had.\n\n\"Um... okay.\" sheepishly responded the young boy.\n\n\"Perfect. Our new kingdom shall have you crowned as king, and I shall be your loyal adviser!\" proclaimed the man, much to the discomfort of the beachgoers in the immediate vicinity of Armando, and this strange, old man.\n\nPulling out a red, crystal ball, the elderly man gazed yet again at Armando.\n\n\"You may call me Rodrigo.\"\n\nThat's how Armando saw a familiarity. Rodrigo was the name of his grandfather, who had sadly passed away several years ago.\n\nHanding the crystal ball to Armando, the spindly figure nodded to him.\n\n\"Simply imagine great armies, and faraway creatures of distant lands to fight for you. Whatever wild monstrosity emerges into your mind, simply think of it while holding this ball, and it will come to life.\" Explained Rodrigo.\n\n\"Cool...\" said Armando in wonder, as he began to hold the rather light ball in his sweating hands.\n\nClosing his eyes, Armando began thinking of utterly loyal soldiers, all of which had Swords that shot Lighting from their tips, and Crossbowmen whose Crossbows had endless explosive rounds. And Archers, whose arrows were imbued with a poison that would spread and kill anyone not a member of Armando's growing legions.\n\nGargantuan trolls with plasma guns, flying saucers, cavalrymen, giant elephants with cannons attached to their sides, all began coming to light.\n\n\"Rodrigo\" looked in amazement as all of these thoughts began formulating on the sandy plains of the beach. Swordsmen of Armando's Kingdom immediately acted hostile and aggressive to passerby, threatening to gut them if they did not join Armando's new army.\n\nSoon enough, an amazing arrangement of trolls, dragons, and other creatures and soldiers, all erupted from the sandy shores.\n\n\"Our new kingdom, is only just beginning.\"\n\nArmando, his new elderly wizard friend, and his brought to life top commanders, consisting of Regon the Robot and Slashflak the Orc, were soon all on collective thrones hoisted on one of the giant elephants. Armando's throne was the greatest, laced with emeralds and exotic items, and a crown to indeed show Armando was supreme.\n\nPolice choppers and response units were eradicate in a variety of ways. Whether it was toxic poison, lighting bolts, or being melted by plasma weaponry.\n\nRodrigo chuckled at the boy, at the moment very engaged with his minions elegant destruction of those who opposed him in the most spectacular fashions.\n\nFor a few seconds, the elegant disguise of a kind old man was fluttered away. To reveal a rather short, yet stern figure. With an indistinguishable French accent, laughing as his, not Armando's, armies brutalised the oncoming police units.\n\nNapoleon would rise again." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: \"I don't understand why you think I should care.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The triage nurse, a veteran from the marine corps, jumped to attention and saluted as Dr. Sturgeon walked into the ER waiting room. Social workers gasped, it was almost unheard of for a physician to show his face in the waiting room. A doctor outside of his office, without his entourage of orderlies and blood-pressure-takers? It would have been less surprising if the President of the United States had walked in.\n\nPatients rushed around the doctor, like pilgrims reaching to touch a savior's cloth. The uninsured jostled just to meet the man's eye. But there was one patient in the waiting room who didn't seem to notice the historic event. An adolescent boy sitting on the couch in the corner, as far away from the noisy TV sets as possible, playing Pokemon. The doctor pushed his way through the crowd and approached the boy.\n\n\"Is that the new Pokemon?\" said Dr. Sturgeon.\n\n\"Yeah,\" said the boy, hardly glancing up. Certainly not hopping to attention or giving the doctor the proper signals of respect. \"Wanna play?\"\n\n\"Heck yeah!\" said the doc. Soon he and the boy were taking turns fighting Squirtles.\n\nNurse Hatchet watched with increasing indignation. Pencil after pencil snapped in her trembling hands. Finally she could contain herself no longer. Hitting the PA she announced: \"Dr. Sturgeon, please put the Gameboy down and see some patients!\"\n\nDr. Sturgeon ignored her. \"Check it out, a Catatonic!\" he said, tapping buttons rapidly. He and the boy were closest pals now.\n\nNurse Hatchet ground her teeth. Never had a doctor dared ignore her. Her, a head nurse! The indignity! She stomped out from the nurse's station and into the chaos of the waiting room. She shoved an old man aside who was taking too long to hobble out of her path. She glared daggers at an uninsured mother and her pack of howling toddlers. Finally, Nurse Hatchet's shadow fell over the doctor and the boy.\n\n\"Do you mind?\" said Dr. Sturgeon without looking up. \"You're blocking the light.\"\n\n\"Dr. Sturgeon!\" You'd think it was his old maid yelling at him to do the dishes or something. \"Do you know how many patients we have waiting! I had to phone Supply just to request more registration forms. It's our busiest night of the year! What do you think you're doing, Dr. Sturgeon! You're acting like a child!\"\n\nDr. Sturgeon looked up from the game. \"I don't understand why you think I should care,\" he said. \"You're just an ugly old nurse who wishes she had gotten into med school! Go change an old man's diaper or something!\"\n\nBoy, did that piss off Hatchet. With a roar, she grabbed a chair and started waving it around. Patients dived away, afraid for their life. After all, if you're not safe in a hospital waiting room, then where?\n\nDr. Sturgeon ducked just in time to dodge the chair. He jumped behind the couch, pulling little Billy along with him.\n\n\"Dr. Sturgeon,\" Nurse Hatched shouted from the other side of the couch barrier. \"If you don't come out in ten seconds I'm going to activate all the fire sprinklers!\"\n\n\"What should we do?\" said Dr. Sturgeon to his young companion. They conferred in whispers, preparing a surgical strategy.\n\n\"Alright, Hatchet,\" said the doctor. \"I'm coming out. Put the chair down, nice and slow like.\" And then he stood up and faced the nurse.\n\n\"Dr. Sturgeon,\" Hatchet said, still fuming. \"Do you know how many forms I'm going to have to fill out because of your little stunt here??\"\n\n\"Now!\" shouted Sturgeon. Billy popped up and hurled a shiny Pokeball at the evil nurse. She shrieked and clawed at the floor but it was too late. She was caught.\n\n\"Alright!\" said Dr. Sturgeon. \"High five!\" They plopped back on the couch to continue their game.\n\nTwo weeks later, all the newspapers hailed Dr. Sturgeon as a medical hero. By playing with the boy, he had cured a terminal case of boredom that had never before been treated in any patient so young. As for Nurse Hatchet, she's bottled up in that Pokeball to this day. Her only hope is that someday Dr. Sturgeon will choose her to do battle with other nurses." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: They say that Cupid has a bow and arrow that makes you fall in love. Well, Cupid appeared before me in a suit and shot me and a stranger with a gun." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rain was falling from the sky in a way I’d never seen before. I hurried down the street, holding my jacket over my head in an effort to stay dry, desperate to get to work as soon as possible and out of the downpour. The pavement had become slick and I tried my best to tread carefully, not wanting to bump into the many strangers surrounding me. The rain had come on unexpectedly and people dashed in and out of buildings.\n\nI reached an intersection and pressed the button for the crosswalk more times than necessary. Surely the more it was pushed the faster the light would change and I would be able to continue on to the office. I could feel the water starting to pool in my shoes and soak through my socks.\n\nOther people collected at the intersection, waiting to cross with me. A man in a white suit sidled up next to me, his hands in his pockets. He seemed unfazed by the rain. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying it. He was smiling up at the sky and chuckling to himself. He rocked back and forth on his heels. I rolled my eyes and focused my attention back to the red pedestrian light, willing it to turn green. The man chuckled again and I turned to look at him, making eye contact.\n\nThere were two deafening pops, followed by a searing pain in my chest. The worst pain I have ever experienced. I felt like the air had been sucked out of my lungs and I grabbed my chest. My hand felt hot. I looked down to see blood seeping through my rain drenched shirt. The red quickly spread across the light blue fabric. I fell to the ground, trying to make sense of the pain and what had just happened.\n\nThe man in the white suit stared down at me. There was a small gun in his hand. Through the pain, I felt confusion and shock. Why had this seemingly happy-go-lucky man shot me? What had I done to deserve this?\n\nI looked at all the people around me, desperate for some help. No one had seemed to notice the gun shot or the now dying person lying in front of them. The light turned green and pedestrians began to cross. They stepped over me while I tried to call for help. My voice was strained. There was no way anyone could hear me over the rush of the rain. I felt my energy fading. I looked around and noticed another person crumpled on the ground. Blood had pooled around them and was beginning to wash away into the gutter.\n\nThe man in the white suit stood over us both, watching. I crawled my way over to them. Was there some way I could help them? Maybe someone would notice us both. I grabbed them by the shoulder and rolled them over. Their eyes were glassy and their breathing shallow. Feeling hopeless, I lay down next to them and took their hand in mine. At least we would not die alone. At least we would have each other. The rain continued to fall, but I could barely feel it on my skin.\n\nWarmth started to spread into my hand and through my body. The pain in my chest started to recede. The sky above me cleared and a gentle breeze rolled across my face. I felt no pain, only warmth. Warmth like being wrapped in a towel by your mother after getting out of the pool. Warmth like laughing with friends at the stupidest of things. The hand I was holding gently squeezed mine.\n\nI turned to face them. Their beauty struck me and I was overcome with a feeling I had never felt before. Their eyes were a deep green, like a forest after a storm. Thick, curly hair fell around their face, bouncing with every small movement. Their face was round and kind. A small smile played at their thin lips. I smiled too, not entirely sure why.\n\nWe sat up and looked around. The blood on my shirt had disappeared. There was no wound. The sun shone bright and the streets were dry. All the strangers surrounding us had vanished. Only the man in the white suit remained. We got to our feet and the stranger next to me held me close. I felt the warmth filter through my body again. I felt as though nothing could harm me with this person by my side. Suddenly, everything made sense. I turned to the man.\n\n“So, this is what happens when you fall in love?”\n\nHe chuckled once more and walked off into the street, the sun glowing off his beautiful white suit." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: The legendary monk that meditated for an entire month suddenly disappears in plain sight, with the message \"User has been disconnected for being inactive for too long. (Timeout error)\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I suppose this requires a TRIGGER WARNING\n\nWe knew HolyFists15 had left us well before he logged out. Our guild leader, his best friend since kindergarten broke the news over discord the day it happened. We knew he'd been feeling down; he hadn't been on as many raids lately as was normal, and sometimes he'd log into the game and just sit in the guild hall meditating, not connecting to chat. We tried to find out what was wrong, but he didn't talk much to begin with, and then even less so, so we thought it best to just give him space and go about our raids.\n\nWhen LongShotX got on that day, we could tell he was in tears. HolyFists, his name was Michael, was dead, he said. He'd been found in his room, unresponsive with a razor on the desk next to his laptop. He said Michael's parents were still in shock, and I think LongShotX probably was too. One minute he sounded overwhelmed, the next it was like he was telling us the plot of a movie.\n\nOf course we didn't know how to take it either at first. We could see HolyFists15, the same monk Michael had played all five years of the guild's existence, just sitting there in meditation, still in the guild hall. His health bar had been full for hours already, but he still sat there, as had been his habit those past weeks, and it felt like the man behind the character couldn't possibly be gone. Surly he was just...meditating.\n\nWord got around after a while. Players from our sister guild stopped by every now and then to pay respects. HolyFists15 was still there, meditating. LongShotX said his parents hadn't had the heart to turn his laptop off. They wanted everything just as it was, maybe so they could imagine he'd come back to play the game he loved so much, so we and many that knew him would come private message him on occasion, telling him how much he meant to us, apologizing for not seeing that he was hurting. Our cleric cast every healing spell he had on HolyFists15, hoping against irrational hope that maybe the monk would stand up and Michael would be back.\n\nThat went on for a few weeks, probably a month when it was all said and done. By then, news of Michael's passing had reached some of the game's forums, and soon it wasn't just our sister guild that came to see HolyFists15. Players from all around the server would request access to the guild hall, and LongShotX granted each of them gladly. They wanted to come pay respects to a fellow gamer, one of us who like so many others had been quietly losing real world hp unnoticed.\n\nI logged in one day, after that month give or take, and as had become my and many others' habit, went to see HolyFists15 before partying up for the raid. We'd started asking his blessing before each raid, just another way of hanging on. When I got to the usual spot though, I saw my guild mates, each one seated in a hollow circle on the guild hall floor. HolyFists15 was gone, well and truly gone, his character logged out automatically after so much time inactive.\n\nWe still don't know why Michael left us. He had just turned 18 and was about to go off to college. Maybe he was scared of what lay ahead, or maybe he couldn't see past what was before him at the moment and thought that was all he had to live for. Whatever the reason, I know ten other people who would have gladly partied with him to take on whatever boss he was challenging. I just wish he'd asked, or that we had. I think of him often now that I have kids of my own, and sometimes I even log into the game, though the servers are all but deserted at this point. I just like to sit and look at that spot where HolyFists15 spent his final weeks, look at his name in my friends list, and hope that whatever demons my children face, they know that they have a level 100 wizard with perfect PVE gear at their side." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Remember Inside Out? Those emotion characters actually exist inside everyone... except its not 5 characters, its an entire U.N.-like council made up of hundred of emotions. A boy just asked a girl to high school prom." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Emotion Secretary Consciousness called the emergency meeting. \"I see a number of empty seats here, but we can't wait any longer. I'll just get right to the situation. As you can see through the eyes, John asked Jackie to prom.\"\n\n\"The prom?!\" A distant voice in the back shouted. \"The prom?!\"\n\n\"That's right. We should have seen this coming. We just aren't prepared for this right now. Where's Anticipation? Is Anticipation here?\"\n\nAssertiveness looked around. \"No, I haven't seen him the last few meetings.\" Members of the Emotion Assembly began clamoring to have their voices heard. Consciousness slammed his gavel to regain order.\n\n\"That explains it then. I'm going to need the member from Introspection to track down Anticipation. We need to know why we didn't see this coming. As it stands, John is out there, and he needs our help. We're waiting on Jackie's response, and, in the meantime, we need to have the Assembly working toward...\"\n\n\"Uh!\" Alert shouted, \"It looks like she's about to speak!\"\n\nThe Assembly grew very quiet as they watched through John's eyes Jackie's response. Pessimism broken the silence, \"Oh no, she's saying no! Of course she is!\"\n\nOptimism shouted him down, \"No, she's going to say yes. You can see it in her eyes. And obviously, this is the beginning of a relationship. Jackie is John's soul-mate. She'll say yes.\"\n\nInfatuation spoke up, \"I stand with member Optimism on this issue. Jackie and John are meant to be together.\"\n\nPessimism: \"We should have just stayed at home today! What on earth were we thinking?\" Negativity, Depression, and Sadness all stood up in solidarity with Pessimism.\n\nSecretary Consciousness banged his gavel once more. \"I'm not having any of this. If the Negative Council wanted to weigh on in this, the paperwork should have been completed this morning. It's too late for you to file a motion. We are purely in a reactionary mode right now. We just have to wait and see what Jackie says.\n\n\"I've started the Butterflies in Stomach protocol, your secretary,\" Nervousness shouted above the fray. \"It looks like they are taking effect, even on short notice.\"\n\n\"You traitor!\" Negativity shouted, \"You're supposed to be with us!\"\n\n\"Silence!\" Consciousness shouted, \"Here it comes! Ears, tell us what we've got.\"\n\nA tiny Ear-drum ran through the center of the Assembly to the front podium. In his hand was a sheet of paper, waving it madly as he ran. Consciousness grabbed the paper from him at once.\n\n\"Ladies and Gentleman,\" Consciousness looked down, and then out towards the floor. \"It looks like we have our answer. And. And Jackie decided to say,\" and his eyes turned upwards with a grin, \"Yes! She said yes!\"\n\nThe Assembly erupted in applause and cheers, but more than a few emotions noted members of the Negativity Council heading for the exit. Optimism and Infatuation ran towards one another, arms open and laughing.\n\nConsciousness set the paper down on the podium and smiled. \"All right, folks, our job here isn't done. Nervousness, keep the Butterflies going. Euphoria, I need you in my chambers immediately. Love, where are you at? Love? I know it's been a while, but I need you to dust off your boots and get ready for the big time again. Enjoy this moment, but don't forget: the real work is ahead of us.\" And Consciousness gave a skeptical look at Libido. \"Meeting adjourned!\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: She just wanted to be a good land lord; they kept trying to trying to make it sexual" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The key slid in.\n\nAbigail took a deep breath, smoothing down her skirt and top, she readied herself taking a deep breath while standing at the door.\n\n“In and out, don’t stop to chat, just ‘rent please’ and move on. Oh I’d love to chat but I really need to run.”\n\nShe reached out for the handle taking one last moment to steady herself and turned.\n\nSarah stood by the door under the only light, eyes wide. Her tenant was short, maybe only 4 ft tall, hands together and lips trembling slightly in a little yellow sundress. Her gaze slowly lifted until it met Abigail’s. She started to smile, like the sun was blooming out of her.\n\n“Is the offering ready?” asked Sarah, her voice filled with hope.\n\n“Uh, no sorry. I’m ju-” she started when Sarah seemed to be plucked out of view, like a puppet pulled through a curtain. The door slammed shut behind Abigail causing her to flinch and stare at it, when she looked back there was a wall of black, she looked up slowly to the top, seeing John’s face looming above her. He wore a black three piece suit, his hands behind his back. The sound of Sarah’s muffled moans emanating from directly behind him.\n\n“You said there would be an offering soon.” he said.\n\n“I’m still working on it sir,” said Abigail.\n\n“I could accept you in its place,” he said.\n\n“Ahh, no I’ll find it, any day now sir.”\n\n“Then you must be here for the rent.” he said over the increasingly louder muffled moans behind him.\n\nAbigail nodded but he didn’t move. She winced and remembered.\n\n“Yes sir.” she said, hastily.\n\nHe stepped to the side, revealing a small table with a lit candle and an envelope. “Abigail” written on the front in long flowing cursive. It had a wax seal.\n\nShe walked sideways then backwards, collecting the letter and hastily scrawling ‘offering: gift basket!!!’ on the cover. She continued to step backwards, keeping John in her view. He rotated with her though his feet didn’t seem to move. Abigail hurried as the longer she lingered, the louder and more desperate Sarah’s muffled cries became.\n\nShe unlocked the door behind her back and twisted the knob, almost falling back through the door and slamming it frantically.\n\n“ABIGAIL!” shouted two voices in chorus.\n\n“Hi boys! How's the game?” she shouted while making sure the door was locked.\n\n“Game? Nah! We’re working out today.” shouted Chris.\n\nAbigail turned and found Chris with a towel over his shoulder and nothing else. He was still wet from the shower, drops running down to... She quickly looked to the side to see Marek on a weight bench, his face twisted into a sneer as he forced the weight up.\n\n“Want me to spot you a few rounds? We could work out your core.”\n\n“I really can’t stay long, I just need to grab the rent and go.” she said.\n\n“We got the rent bro?”\n\n“Thought you had it?”\n\n“Oh… well if you can’t afford it, I understand. It’s a lot of money and not everyone earns that much.” she said.\n\n“Rent! Psh! Nah, that’s fuckall to me. Don’t even worry about it bro, this is nothing, I got this!” said… honestly she couldn’t tell. They were both about the same length and girth. They could be twins if their faces were not entirely different.\n\nShe blinked a few times, feeling something in her palm… money! Yes, rent!\n\nThey probably smiled but she couldn’t tell, she shook her eyes free and unlocked the next door.\n\n“Abigail!”\n\nCristolph was in costume, his muscles oiled and standing beneath an array of lights with a camera.\n\n“His Christolph… Nice muscles… hang on.” said Abigail, pulling the door behind her wide open.\n\nChristolph met Chris and Marek’s eyes and threw his hounds out. “BRO!”\n\n“Bro!”… “bro!” “Oh my god bro!”\n\nShe snatched his pants as he went past, the velcro gave way and he continued on in a golden thong to the frat guy’s makeshift gym. She plucked his wallet free, taking out the rent consisting of a wad of ones and fives all wrinkled up and smothered in cocaine. she continued on through his photo booth of an apartment. She swirled up her hair, threw her pen through it and checked her lipstick was on point in the viewfinder of one of Chrisolphs cameras before unlocking the next apartment." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: You’re the last boss at the end of the last dungeon. The hero has made you wait 100s of hours while doing side quests." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Upon my throne, I sat. Waiting. Ever waiting. My sword, ever restless. My blade felt light across my lap. My muscles felt taut. But I endured.\n\nRage had become my only companion. Rage that I, the End Boss, was required to wait. Wait, wait, wait. I eyed the door to my chamber. I yearned for the day it opened, revealing my adversary. The sickening sound of a sword penetrating flesh and armor danced through my head as a melody. Like steel sliding over a wet stone.\n\nFor making me wait, for slaying my legions, for claiming my kingdom and my riches, the human would pay.\n\nAnd then it happened.\n\nThe doors cracked open, dust falling to the floor like so many snowflakes in a gray winter. Agony. That's what I felt.\n\nAs the doors opened wider, I could see my opponent. Clad in the Armor of Champions, taunting me with his victories. Rage. That's what I felt.\n\nAs the hero strode into my chamber, I realized that it was a woman by the slenderness of the shoulders and her gait. Hate. That's what I felt.\n\n\"Evanon!\" Her shout echoed off of the walls, reverberating a thousand times. \"I have come to exact vengeance on you for what you have done to my people!\" Excitement. That's what I felt.\n\nI arose from my throne, my blade thirsty. My heart racing. My blood pumping. Finally, I would be done with this wretched woman. Finally, I would have my victory. Joy. That's what I felt.\n\n\"Come then\", I spoke, my voice echoing louder than hers, betraying the power inside of me. \"Come then and make peace with your god.\" Confidence. That's what I felt.\n\nOur battle was spectacular. Emaculate. Perfect. She was strong. Bearing armor and items from all over the world, gained through sheer will. She was a worthy adversary.\n\nOur blades clashed. Our spells collided. She took an opening, slashing my body, spilling my blood. But instead of pain, I felt satisfaction. If I lost, I would know peace. If I won, I would know peace. I had both nothing to lose and everything to gain.\n\nWith a mighty roar, I brought my blade down upon her. She raised her blade above her head to stop my attack. But I was too strong. I brought her to her knees. Again, I brought my sword above my head. Again, I brought it down upon her. Again. Again. Again.\n\nWith one final plunge, her blade shattered. I drove my sword deep into her chest. Her gasp was beautiful. Horrible. Perfect.\n\n\"Your story is at its end\", I gloated. I withdrew my blade from her chest. Resting it on her shoulder, I stared deep into her eyes. Savoring the pain and desperstion. Basking in it. With one final swing, my blade tore through her neck. Her body collapsed, her head rolling across the stone floor.\n\nI took pause, breathing heavily. My wounds healed themselved almost instantly. I felt rejuvinated. At peace. That's what I felt.\n\nI turned on my heel, striding towards my throne. But I stopped. A sound. I heard a sound. I turned my head and beheld a golden aura around the hero. My mouth gaped in horror. Above her, a number hovered. The number \"3\". Before my eyes, it changed into a \"2\". Now, she stood before me, her blade restored, her armor showing no signs of the battle that had taken place moments before.\n\n\"Evanon!\" Her shout echoed off of the walls, reverberating a thousand times. \"I have come to exact vengeance on you for what you have done to my people!\" Devastation. That's what I felt.\n\n\"Come then\", I spoke, the words leaving my body against my will. \"Come then and make peace with your god.\" Fear. That is what I felt.\n\nOur blades met again, the ringing of steel echoing off of the walls of my chamber for the second time. Our spells collided for the second time. And for the second time, I severed her head from her shoulders.\n\nThe \"2\" changed to a \"1\". I screamed in agony, only to realize my voice could not be heard. She stood before me, body and armor restored.\n\n\"Evanon!\" Her shout echoed off of the walls, reverberating a thousand times. \"I have come to exact vengeance on you for what you have done to my people!\" Horror. That's what I felt.\n\n\"Come then\", the words pulled from my own mouth, echoing in my ears as if another had spoken them. \"Come then and make peace with your god.\" Tired. That's what I felt.\n\nWe met in battle. Blades clashing. Spells colliding. And in the midst of battle, she bested me. She found an opening and plunged her blade deep into my belly. As I stared into her eyes, I saw darkness encroach around me. Enveloping me. She had won. Peace. That's what I felt.\n\nThe last thing I saw was the hero picking up my sword, departing my chamber with it. I shut my eyes.\n\nAs if no time had passed, I opened my eyes again. I sat upon my throne. My armor was the same. My blade was the same. No, no they were not. I felt stronger. It was as if my strength had doubled.\n\nAnd then it dawned on me.\n\nThe hero was playing again. Hard mode. I closed my eyes. Anticipation. That's what I felt." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1200-1300 words. Prompt: You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain. The reverse is true as well." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was not Ferdinand’s first rodeo, but perhaps it would be his last.\n\nHe always hated the noise, more than anything else. His ears twitched irritably at the noises of humanity as his hoofs pawed at the pressed dirt beneath, raising clouds of dust. His hide was slick with sweat from the arena lights, and the dust stuck to it like burrs.\n\nThe smell was a second to his hatred of the rodeo. The cheap liquor that the humans always imbibed saturated the air as much as the smell of rain in a storm. The odor of the fried feed that fattened the humans like a sow for slaughter hung thick in his nostrils. And the smell of fear.\n\nThe rider on top of Ferdinand was shaking, a tight vibrato of muscles with the human’s skinny shanks digging into Ferdinand’s full flanks. The human’s sweat could not be blamed on the hot stadium of lights but tasted so strongly of utter terror that Ferdinand was surprised she still kept her seat upon his back. The way she jerked the rope—tightening her grip until he could no longer feel her fingers, then loosening it again, only to tighten up once more—spoke of her immaturity and youth.\n\nFerdinand knew the legend of his name. He had seen the humans talk over him with equal parts awe and bravado when he was encaged. Most that took their seat on his back were veterans puffed with that selfsame machismo, which quickly corrected itself to horror once he was let out into the arena and they felt the force of his hatred.\n\nNot this human. There was no bluster overlaying the dread. Yet, there was a grim sort of determination, of a steer fated for slaughter and fighting all the same, of a milk cow separated from her calf but bleating for his return.\n\nFerdinand was getting older. He had seen the sands of times pass. He had watched his childhood friend disappear into eternity. He had sired calves and watched them reach the same fate. Life and death, like the rise and fall of the sun, was forever and evermore.\n\nHe was tired. He yearned for his field of green, tall enough to brush his belly. He dreamed of the cool burble of the stream in the far corner of the lot. He longed for an unending summer day with the friends and family in a herd, never to be separated.\n\nYet, desires, Ferdinand had found, were like a first burst of winter’s wind, ethereal and promising that the halcyon days were coming to a close. Summer was at an end for Ferdinand, and he had the feeling that he would soon find out where all his friends had journeyed when they fell away from reality and into forever.\n\nThe chute opened. The human on Ferdinand’s back tightened. He could feel her pulse from her thighs, beating a tattoo against his hide. There were two beats of hers for every one of his. Three for every one.\n\nThe electric prod broke his reverie, and Ferdinand took to the pounded dirt before him in front of the faceless crowd. In his first steps, he made a decision.\n\nHe bucked, not with vehemence, but with artistry. It was a calibrated movement, as graceful as a pirouette. It looked impressive, but there was no force in it. All the same, the terrified human almost became unbalanced. She shifted dangerously, her center of mass falling of his side.\n\nShe righted herself. She held on.\n\nHe made a tight circle with poise and sunfished elegantly, attentive of the human grasping the rope around his girth. Slowly, confusion overwhelmed her fear as she tried to understand the artful display of etiolated vigor, the anemic bucks, the feeble turns. To the roaring crowd, he was a virile beast. Yet, the quiet human knew his pantomime.\n\nAfter eight seconds, Ferdinand stopped and dropped low to the ground to allow his rider to dismount, which she did quickly with an artless leap. She was still shaking, Ferdinand saw as he stormed off into his chute, but her eyes followed him. And she spoke, in the incomprehensible babble of the humans that was drowned out by the thunder of the crowd.\n\nYet, Ferdinand could read her face. It was a skill he developed as watched the humans posture and preen, like a rooster before the hens, or when he watched them separate the herd into those that would remain and those that would be consigned to the endless void. What he saw was not a common emotion he had seen humans express. It was a rare one they reserved for each other, and never the animals in their case. In this case, she gave it to him.\n\nHer eyes spoke gratitude.\n\n~\n\nThey had called him the Behemoth. He was legend unto himself, something her father talked about ‘round the dinner table ever since the young bull took to the arena when Mia and her sisters were small. Dad had tried to ride him more than once, but he was always thrown before the eight seconds were up, not that there was much shame in that. There were few that could claim to have ridden the Behemoth, and those that had were by the skin of their teeth.\n\nDad told stories of the Behemoth like other fathers told fairytales. There were not castles of magic, but rodeos and hard work. Instead of valiant princes with swords, there were gritty cowboys with spurs, gathering up to defeat the terrible villain.\n\nDad always said that in the next ride, he would make it. He said he would conquer the Behemoth, if it were the last thing he did. That is, before he got cancer.\n\nMia always assumed Dad’s headaches were the result of being kick upside the head one too many times by all manner of God’s creatures, but apparently a glioblastoma works much the same way. Dad was gone before the heifers were calved in spring.\n\nWhen Mia had taken to the Behemoth’s back, she wasn’t planning on much. She had half a thought to go out the way as her father always claimed he wanted to, doing what he loved with a swift kick to the head. Yet, she didn’t, and in those eight second, she could have sworn Dad was with her, taming the bull like he had once tamed the wild woman who would be Mia’s mother before she re-grew her wings and flew off again.\n\nYet now, leaning against the fence underneath an unending Texas sky and watching her herd chew the fresh cud of spring, Mia had another theory.\n\nThe Behemoth had not been cheap to purchase. She had to ask her sister, Clementine, for help, which was something she was loath to do as the computer programmer could never really understand her insistence on keeping the floundering family farm afloat in the first place. Yet, it was something she knew she had to do, as deeply in her bones as she knew Dad was the best father a girl could ever hope for.\n\nThe Behemoth looked up at her as grazed across the field. The soft, green blades of spring hung from his lips, as bright as emeralds. Perhaps Mia had been spending more time around animals than what was safe for a human, but she swore she read something in clear, dark eyes that regarded with careful intelligence.\n\nHis eyes spoke gratitude.\n\nEdit: I just read the second part of the prompt of also describing a hero that becomes a villain, which I didn't do. Sorry! I got too excited with thinking about a \"villain\" who is redeemed instead." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 800-900 words. Prompt: You don't know why but every single supervillain seems to be afraid of you; A regular, unassuming guy with no powers." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“ATTENTION, PUNY MORTALS!” A voice echoed throughout the mall.\n\nI tried to look at what happened and slammed my head at the table's underside. Ouch. I was picking up the fallen pretzel for Ruby, who was now strangely quiet.\n\nCarefully now, I rose back up and sat on my seat, glancing at the cause of disruption.\n\nA squat man stood at the front of the information kiosk, right where the wings of Macy’s crossed with JC Penny’s. He was wearing a glossy brown cloak, which opened to reveal two pairs of greasy arms. Spines jutting out of his forearms and bear calves. What I imagined was his helmet had a pair of long, rigid antennae that curved toward his back.\n\nHe basically looked like an unfortunate mix between cockroach and human. But my daughter pointed out something distinctive about him immediately.\n\n“Ew.”\n\nRuby, my precious four-year old, was precise like that.\n\n“We have lived under your filth for quite some time,” the man announced. “For years, we were squashed. We were humiliated. But no more!”\n\nHe pushed his hands out and shouted, “COME FORTH, MY FATED FRIENDS!”\n\nSilence.\n\nPeople started snickering. Some started looking for cameras. A lot of people pulled out their phones. But Ruby stared right at the man. I used this time of her focus to wipe the cheese sauce from her chin.\n\nThen I started to hear it.\n\nWhispered of legs. Tiny legs. Small flutters of wings. Bit by bit. Something scratchy under the mall bland classical music.\n\nThen, several screams erupted.\n\nOut of every corner, cockroaches poured out. The soft cushions of the malls. The shelves. The ceilings. They crawled and scuttled and took flights.\n\nIn seconds, they scattered through visible surfaces. Yet more of them came, pushing against each other, stampeding each other. They moved so rapidly they were black and brown blurs.\n\nAnd all hell broke loose.\n\nEveryone was in the state of panic never seen before. People poured at the exit, tried to open it, slamming at the glass. Those too slow were covered in cockroaches. They filled people’s pockets, pants, crawling all over their faces.\n\nThe man’s voice was barely above the shouting.\n\n“Make this your trap house, humans.” He moved through chaos so casually. The roaches made way for him. “You called us dirty, but look at yourselves now.”\n\nI held on to Ruby, who did not cry. She only looked at everything with curious eyes. Maybe she thought it was a movie. I took her onto the table with a round metal leg, which were hard for roaches to crawl up, shielding her from the barrage of insects that started landing on me, crawling on my arms and my scalp.\n\n“Don’t worry, Ruby.” I whispered. “someone must've already sounded the alarm for superheroes. Maybe one of them are shopping today.”\n\n“Okay Daddy.” Ruby said, surprisingly calmly.\n\nThat moment was when I felt defeated. I knew the end would come. The world was unfair like that. Some people had powers. Some did not. It sucked to feel powerless all the time.\n\nI was a terrible father. I could not protect Ruby.\n\nHow could I meet Ingrid in heaven and tell her I failed our daughter, her, us?\n\nThen everything stopped. The roaches on me crawled out and flew away.\n\nI looked up, and the Roach-man hybrid were in front of me, staring into my eyes. His face, which was not helmet, had tiny composite eyes that reflected thousands of images of me on each facet.\n\n“You,”\n\nI feared to open my mouth. To answer. Chaos still exploded around us, but at the moment, everything seemed so quiet. I could only hear my heartbeat. I held Ruby tighter and tried to hide her from the monster.\n\nI could not read his face; however, I could see from his body language that he was afraid.\n\n“You were reborn,” the monstrous man said in his scratchy voice, “for years we have looked for you.”\n\nThe roaches around us retreated in wider and wider circle. I jumped out of the table and stepped away from him, slowly.\n\nHe reached out his arm, his feelings were raw and intense. Fear? Awe?\n\n“You make Daddy scared,” Ruby’s voice started me. I looked at her to see that she was looking up towards the Roach-man.\n\nThis struck him like a bullet. The Roach-man fluttered his wings and sat down hard on the ground. One of the spines on his calf scratched his butt as he did so. “I am so terribly sorry, Hivemother, I have not—I did not kn—Please forgive me!”\n\n“I make you go bye bye,” Ruby said. Her voice slurred a bit, but there was a finality in her tone that raised the hair at the back of my neck.\n\nThe Roach man screamed. As he screamed, more cockroaches poured from his mouth and crawled away. He slowly deflated as they did, and melted into a pool of black liquid on the floor, drained into invisible pores between the tiles.\n\nIn a wave of gentle blue light. Billions of roaches stopped on its track. They scuttered back into the dark deep corners of the mall, leaving people unconscious with shock.\n\nI looked at my daughter, Ruby.\n\nShe looked at me.\n\n“I made bad man go away,” she said, “I want ice cream now.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: The afterlife is nothing like they said it would be. You jump day to day viewing your life from 3rd person. You're allowed to edit one day and then are released to Oblivion." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I feel my bones ache as I try to move in my bed. my old body is unable to move from this place, this silk lined prison. Alone with no visitors but the nurse who tends to me. I had hoped to see my friends and family once again before the end. a single tear works its way down my face as my eyes grow heavier, I know this will be the last time I see this world. Alone.\n\nI almost at peace as I feel my body close down and I begin to reminisce the good times in my life. I feel a smirk creep across my face as my mind is flooded with memories then I feel nothing, my mind goes blank as all thoughts escape me.\n\nAll of a sudden I can see again but what I am greeted with is my own face and body, not as I remember it as I left but much younger. I am looking in the mirror and I feel my whole body once again but I have no control. I feel a retching feeling in my stomach unsure as to what is happening to me. When I catch a glimpse of writing on the mirror in what appeared to be my own handwriting “you have one day in your life to change but you must live every memory you remember until this day” as soon as I read the message it faded away. A couple of seconds later more writing appeared “chose wisely”.\n\nWhat did this mean? Am I going insane? Am I still alive? No this didn’t make any sense how could I see these sights so vividly? My body started to move immediately halting my thoughts. As I look around I recognise this moment. Its my 18th birthday, I feel nauseous as my body walks out of my room and into my mothers kitchen. My mum and little brother Sam are standing in the kitchen both rushing around to get him ready for school they both stop when they notice me wishing me a happy birthday before they run out the door. Unfortunately my dad left the 3 of us when my little brother was born, I remember his face. The mere thought of him made my insides burn after what he did to my mother.\n\nI close the door behind me and begin my stroll to work. I remember every step to my old job, for 25 years I slaved away behind a desk as an accountant for a small company at the beginning which grew to be one of the largest online food retailers in the world. The work day passed quickly as I struggled to contain my thoughts. A million questions ran back and forth through my mind but as the day came to a close I felt that nauseous feeling return.\n\nWhen I return from work I make myself presentable and wait for my friends to arrive. I remember I had looked forward to this day for a long time and I was ready for my first night out. The night started great, we have a few drinks together in my bedroom. I tried to pace myself as I hadn’t drunk much before, time goes on and I am entranced by the conversation between me and my friends I remember them all from school, but time passes by and we head out to town. I don’t remember much of what happened that night only the horrors I woke up to in the morning.\n\nI pay close attention to the events that unfold around me, each drink makes my body sway more. As time passes I forget what will happen until I feel my whole body tense up. My eyeline fixes upon a familiar face. Its my dad, I thought he had gone to live in Spain but there he was I knew it was him. My blood boiled as he smiled and laughed with the people around him. I move to a booth around the corner and sit down. I sit completely still, alone and In the dark. I don’t know what is about to happen but I know the outcome. I’m now faced with one of the hardest choices in my life.\n\nI contemplate what to do as my body continues to stare. I lose focus on what’s happening until my body begins to move again. This time my movements are swift and steady as I begin to follow my dad outside. I hadn’t even noticed that I had taken a pint glass from the bar but now it all begins to fall into place. I follow my dad down an alley, my pace quickens and I catch up to him before smashing the glass on his head. He is still conscious I feel panic overcome me as my hands work their way to a shard of broken glass, I watch in horror as I slide the shard into him.\n\nThe next morning I wake up sprawled across my bed confused with my hands covered in blood. I remember what was going though my head at the time, and wondering where it came from. The reports of my dead father came to light the day after and we were asked if we knew anything about the incident. They made no arrests and I thought I had nothing to do with it.\n\nI know that I should have stopped it but I know I should save my change for something far more important." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: They find a cure for death. People continue to procreate." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As the ship neared the planet, they decelerated- the engines of the rear power-sources falling into an alignment with the front burners. It was a sleek vessel, built for speed, stealth. Even the most advanced scanners in existance would have failed to pick up its presence, as it carried on towards the planet's moon. It was a bare surface, practically untouched beyond the craters of meteorites and space matter collisions. Generally, this was a sign of non-intelligent species, but the hosts of the approaching ship knew better.\n\nThis was a place of divinity.\n\n\"Long ago, god touched a single species.\" The Leader shouted out along the broadcast- to reach each and every crew member. \"Long ago, a few of those took his gifts and honed them. They forged greatness into their very minds, and reached for the heavens.\"\n\nThe great skies of the planet became visible, giant white clouds, a depth of blue wisped beneath them as their craft circled in to match the rotation.\n\n\"Through their efforts, the sky was breached! Through their minds, innovation and prosperity was had- but at the price of morality! We are their descendants- barely holding on to a few of their innate gifts. Barely hanging to our legacy of godly intervention. Next to the great ones- the first generation, we are simply man.\" He glanced over the faces of his brave, loyal, determined crew. They had been through so much together, to reach this place. The Church had deemed it untouchable- a place of holiness that could not be soiled by their mortal hands. None had ever managed to breach the quarantine around it.\n\n\"Today, we will finally meet the angels themselves- our ancient ancestors. We will learn from them, and we will take their teachings back out into the Galaxy, for others to hear. The Church has no right to keep their divinity from us- not any longer.\"\n\nThe pull of gravity began to weigh against his bones, as the Captain felt the ship's artificial simulation give way. Monitors came aglow, all along the bridge, surrounding them with the magnificence of the planet below. It grew larger by the second as they dipped through the layers of atmosphere, before finally reaching the last layer of clouds. It had taken so long, but finally, they were here.\n\nAs he gazed on in awe, a sensation of discomfort began to form in his mind. The captain knew something was wrong, but what it was exactly, he could not be certain. Beneath them, where there should have been fertile soil and lush vegetation- as was spoken in the scriptures, was only pale and...\n\nwrithing...\n\nAs far as the land stretched, and even beyond, deep into the oceans of the planet, was pinkish in tone.\n\n\"Bring us closer.\" The captain's voice held firm as they continued their descent- trying desperately to keep composure, straightening his church robes in a nervous habit. Something was wrong, but what it was exactly he could not say. The ancient scriptures wrote nothing of this, but there could be no mistaking the coordinates. This was the holy planet, the original earth, the garden world.\n\nHe watched, grim faced, as he saw what his ancient ancestors had sought to escape, fought with ever fiber of their being to break free from; by mind, body, and spirit, to remove themselves. The Captain now understood with clarity why they had sacrificed so much to escape from the land of god- to strike out into the unknown, and leave behind the Gardens of Eden.\n\nAs the video feeds shown the ground below, Captain and crew stared in silence. Not a breath could be heard, not a single disturbance within the cabin. Slowly the Captain fell back into his seat, the posture of a defeated man, a man whose very faith had been ripped from him. His hands clasped the gospel carved hand rails in a white gripped horror, before slacking away to fall upon his knees in their place to hide their trembling.\n\nThe crew looked to their leader for guidance, and in his place they found none. In that man's place there was only a shadow of the captain they had once followed, bent forward in an posture of illness and horror to block their view of his emblems of rank and honor- leaving only the off-white cloth of his clothing.\n\nSeconds passed to minutes as they waited, none willing to give the word. The crew stood by, silent in their own thoughts as they looked out to what lay below before the captain rose to his feet to issue the order himself. It had to be done.\n\n\"Take us away from this place.\" His voice grew harsh with anger, disgust, inhospitable emotions that had nowhere to go. \"There is nothing sacred here. No...\" His words hung upon a sigh, long and pained.\n\n\"There is nothing holy here.\"\n\n...\n\nAs the ship lifted back above the clouds, trillions of eyes watched it, trillions of arms reaching up to grasp at it, crawling over one another in desperation, for any small chance that they could escape from this hell, before getting pulled under the immense weight of the others, to fall deep below the seemingly endless sea of bodies that surrounded them, stretching out in all directions.\n\nThey cried out desperately, screaming for mercy, begging for release.\n\nAll they received was silence" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: For the last few hours. Wave after wave of your friends and comrades are sent forth into the labyrinth, only to never come out. You are sent with the latest wave and you soon realize that..... your in a tower defense \"situation\"." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "150 squads.\n\nThat was the grand total of Major Payne's army, this time yesterday. 20 spawn to a squad, though 3 squads stood out as having 30 spawn.\n\nOver 3000 of us.\n\nNow?\n\nCounting myself, we have 50.\n\nSquad after squad, likes bullets in a chamber, were sent out the Gate. The Gate was almost reverent to us. Raised in Hell, we were taught that being chosen for the Major's army was a grand praise. That beyond the Gate lays the Everything Else. The things that weren't screaming skulls and pits of Souls.\n\nNow?\n\nThe Everything Else is worse than Hell. In every way, it is more violent and brutal for the Hellborn, perhaps not for the Souls. I got only peeks of the Everything Else with each opening of the Gates. Blood and screams were all I sensed.\n\nI look around. Lined up in front of the Gate is my squad. Me and 19 men surrounding me. Behind my squad stands Major Payne's personal squad, the enigmatic general himself commanding from within. The major is surrounded by 29 spawn, most of them HellLords.\n\nThe Gates open.\n\nI get pushed through as my squad-mates jog in. Immediately I'm greeted to towers, black as night and each with giant Roman numerals floating above them, as if by magic. They are all at V, save for a giant blue tower, which is IV.\n\nI stare at it, and from nowhere comes this green circle. It was not there one moment, the next surrounding the blue tower. The IV turned into a V and what looked to be cartoon dollar bills appeared for a second, then vanished as quickly.\n\nThe tower grows even larger, spikes forming from the sides and more cannons on the rooftop.\n\nI rush by the first tower with my squad, looking up to see it housing snipers. They shoot us. With each bang of a sniper, one of us falls. Imps, Hounds, Banshees, whatever. Hellborn fell with each sound.\n\nThe path ahead circles around a rock formation, two towers on either side of us.\n\nOne houses a single man with a cannon. The other, a line of men with cauldrons and pots.\n\nAs we near, the cauldrons tip and we all step into glue.\n\n\"What the Earth?\" I mutter as I walk. What exactly-\n\n\"Oh Great Father of Lies.\" I whisper.\n\nThe cannon is aimed right at us, and we're near enough to stick in the glue.\n\nWe try to sprint, but the cannonball hits a clump of Lichs. Low value and low intelligence units, but still, to lose 5 in one attack...\n\nWe finally get free of the wretched glue.\n\nWe near the blue tower from earlier and I brace myself for whatever fresh attack this will be.\n\nIce, it turns out. It sprays the round ahead and freezes a ten foot stretch. My momentum carries me forward the short distance that the tower left me, causing me to skirt on the ice.\n\nI make it three, four feet, and fall.\n\nAhead of us, only myself and Pak, both of us HellLords, lies a giant red tower. Men above it hold flamethrowers.\n\nShit.\n\nThe sound of trumpets come and a voice echoes from nowhere and everywhere at once.\n\n\"Final Wave!\"\n\nI hear the Gate open again as the red tower begins attack.\n\nHopefully Major Payne and his men will fare better than squad 149, AKA the Seekers of Everything Else, though only we called ourselves that and only in secret.\n\nA secret that will die with us." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: Oh, no need to see a doctor. Just take that staircase down. On the left side you’ll see a door with the label “Morgue”. Just enter and find an empty table. Someone will be with you soon." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Tom jerked out of sleep and gasped for air. Through his broken windscreen he saw lots of red and blue lights and to his left was a firefighter holding a hydraulic jaw rammed throu the front screen.\n\n\"Hey, what are you doing??\"\n\nThe firefighter didn't respond. Tom poked him. His clothes was hard as a rock. Wow, Tom thought, that's some stiff clothing.\n\n\"Cool, huh?\" Said a raspy voice. Tom turned his head to the passenger seat where the voice had come form.\n\n\"JESUS!\" Tom yelled.\n\n\"Haha, no, I know the guy though! Throws great parties, lots of wine.. no, I am the death... the grim reaper if you will!\"\n\n\"What??\" The confusion on Tom's face amused death.\n\n\"Yeaaah, you're dead! Finished. No more... Shouldn't have been tinkering with your phone..\"\n\n\"Dead?\" Tom said and took a better look at the man sitting in his passenger seat. He was wearing some black robe and his face was hidden by a large hood.\n\n\"Check this out!\" said Death and pulled back his hood and revealed his scull.\n\n\"Oh God?!\" said Tom and jerked into his door to get away from that thing.\n\nDeath laughed just like you'd expect Death would laugh.\n\n\"Death! I'm death! God is more like a CEO. Nice guy, a tad judgemental, but what are you going to do? Rjelax, this happens to everyone, eventually\" said Death and raised his skeleton hand to put it on Tom's shoulder. Tom made a squealing sound as the hand touched down.\n\n\"As I said: I am Death and I am here to take you to the afterlife. Right now we're waiting for your paperwork to go through so I know where to take you\"\n\nTom felt a calming warmth radiating from his shoulder and through his body. \"I'm dead\" he thought.\n\n\"Okay, so, I'm assuming you're going to bring me to heaven?\"\n\n\"Well, or Hell. You know, that brimstone and fire place. The paperwork will tell. But, look, most people don't go there. Unless you've done something horrible, of course.\" Death took a good look at Tom and asked in an exited voice: \"Have you?\"\n\n\"I don't think so\" said Tom\n\n\"mawh\" said Death. Before he could say anything else there was a poof sound and a woman holding a scroll dressed in white clothes suddenly appeared in the back seat.\n\n\"Oh Hi!\" Death turned his head and looked at the woman. \"Julia? Why are you delivering the paperwork?\" He looked back at Tom to see if he could spot something peculiar about the man as he knew something was up when the head of the department of eternal judgment came to deliver the paperworks in person.\n\nJulia didn't respond but started unrolling the scroll. \"When we examined his total record we found some, let's say, disturbing stuff. Tom, perhaps yoi would like to tell us about your, shall we say, Internet habits?\"\n\nTom looked shocked and turned his eyes back on Death. \"You mean porn?\"\n\n\"No\", said the woman and handed death the scroll while pointing to a paragraph. \"Your picture and video collection\" She said calmly. Tom got even paler and small droplets of sweat started to form on his forehead.\n\n\"Daaayum! That's pretty damn impressive\" Said Death. \"over for hundred thousand pictures and five thousand videos! Have you watched and seen them all??\n\n\"Just take him to the facility. You know how to get there, right? Said the woman, talking to death.\n\n\"Oh! Yeah. I do... but really? to the facility?\" said Death,\n\n\"Yes, but I don't have time for this. See you\" she said right before she vanished in a poof.\n\nTom and Death started to float, right through the car, and within seconds they were flowing through a confusing vortex of lights, colors and mangled bodies.\n\n\"Sooo, you like gore, huh?\" Death asked Tom as they were travelling though the tunnel.\n\n\"uh.. Well.. I..\" Toms darkest secret had just been relieved. \"I am going to hell, aren't I?\"\n\n\"No, you haven't killed anyone, but we have a special place for just people who enjoys watching people dying in the most gruesome ways. Or, the place is just temporary. It's more like a task\" Said Death.\n\n\"O-o-okay?\" Tom Stuttered.\n\nThe wortex tunnel suddenly widened and they suddenly stood in front of a large black intimidating building.\n\n\"Here we are!\" said Death. \"I can't go inside with you, but just talk with the receptionist and tell her you're here to get your grim reaper procedure!\"\n\n\"What? Grim reaper procedure? I'm going to be the grim reaper? Isn't that you\" said Tom.\n\n\"One of many. A hundred and fifty thousand people die each DAY. Not exactly a one man job. But I need to go. Lots of deaths to sort out! See you around!\" And just like that he was gone.\n\nTom approached the building and walked over to the receptionist.\n\n\"Hi, I'm Tom and I'm supposed to get some grim reaper procedure, but my legs are all messed up, is there some doctor I could see before that procedure thing?\" Tom said in an almost begging voice.\n\n\"Oh, no need to se a doctor. Just take the staircase down. On the left side you'll see a door with the label \"Morgue\". Just enter and find an empty table. Someone will be with you soon!\" the receptionist said in a calm voice.\n\n'Who? What?\" Said Tom.\n\nThe receptionist sighed. The butcher. He will remove all your soft tissue for you and when you're done come back up and I'll give you your robe and sythe!" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: \"Nurse...\" George mumbled. \"I want you to bring my wife in, I need to hear her play the violin one last time\". As she plays her instrument, George fades away with a content smile. Write about their lifes together." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Edna, Will You Play For Me?\n\nGeorge laid quietly in his hospital bed. His body was weak, exhausted from years of life lived. The cancer had reached a point where there was nothing else that could be done for him and he knew it. He was in no pain, no real suffering to speak of. Just so tired and yet he could not go to sleep. Not just yet.\n\n“Nurse...” George mumbled “please call for my wife. Tell her to bring her violin. I need to hear her play one more time.”\n\nThe nurse nodded and soon enough returned with his wife, violin in tow. George’s wide smile could be seen easily through his oxygen mask. “Hey there, pretty lady. Play a tune for an old fool?”\n\nEdna smiled sadly at her husband of so many years. “You’ve been saying that for such a long time, George. Same answer now as it was fifty years ago” Edna lifted the violin to her shoulder and prepared herself for her most important performance. “You listen and I’ll play all night.”\n\nWith that, she began to play. A slow and soft melody building to well paced dance tune, the very same one she played when she first met George. The music washed the air of raspy breath and beeping machines and enveloped the the pair in a thick fog of memory.\n\nGeorge smiled, tapping his fingers along with the rhythm of the music. He never tired of his wife’s songs, no matter how many concerts he attended or crowded theaters he had to pack into. Grin never fading, George finally allowed his eyes to close and he fell asleep for the last time, awash in the past and in memories of Edna.\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\n“Hey there, pretty lady. Play a song for a young fool?”\n\nEdna was sitting on the edge of the outdoor cafe, violin on the table with a steaming cup of coffee and a scone when she heard the voice and looked up.\n\nA handsome young man, about her age stood a few yards away in the street, leaning against the polished hood of his car. His wide smile shone brightly, even against the backdrop of the mid-morning sun. Despite his flashy car and bold approach, Edna did not feel even a hint of malice from the man.\n\nThe violin was her passion, and though she carried it everywhere, she rarely got the opportunity to play for anyone but herself. Someone asking her to play? Well that was music to her ears.\n\n“You listen and I’ll play all night”\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\nEdna stumbled about, eyes obscured by a scarf tied around them. Despite his athletic appearance, George was charmingly clumsy and could do little to guide his new wife. Finally he stopped her wandering.\n\n“Are you ready to see your surprise?” He asked, unable to hide the bubbling excitement in his voice.\n\n“I’m ready to get my eyes back” replied Edna as a smirk bloomed on her face.\n\nGeorge lifted the scarf off of her head and placed her glasses back on for her. Edna could not believe her eyes.\n\nStanding in front of them was a small house. Light blue in color with a green yard and little porch, the house had a certain amount of charm to match it’s size. George gestured for Edna to follow him into the house.\n\nHe gave her a tour of sorts, showing her the bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen and the living room. Finally he stopped at what Edna assumed would be a guest bedroom. She was awestruck when George opened the door.\n\nThe room was about the size of the other bedroom, but it clearly had a different purpose in mind. All manner of musical equipment was set up around the room. Acoustic foam lined the walls and sitting on a stand in the center of the room was Edna’s Violin.\n\nWords were lost to her at this moment. She simply turned and hugged her husband, burying herself in his warmth and his love.\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\nGeorge burst through the double doors of the building in a frenzy. His watch had broken and work had been so chaotic that he didn’t even realize what time it was till he saw the clock in his car.\n\nRushing walking quickly, he made his way to the main chamber of the concert hall, entering as a fast-paced, bombastic piece swelled into a final note and then the orchestra was silent.\n\nQuietly, the voice of a single instrument crept back into the perception of the listeners. A violin played softly in solitude, a stunning contrast to the wild sound of an entire orchestra, but it was no less powerful. Gradually, the other instruments began to fade in and music began anew, but for George they might as well have never started again.\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\nThis was how George and Edna lived their shared life. George never stopped supporting Edna’s dreams and every note that she played was filled with her devotion to the man that made it possible. In the end, the pair had shared the kind of love that was the stuff of legend. Although their time together on earth had ended, their story could never draw to a close." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: It is decided that a benevolent dictator is the best way to run the world's government. In the year 2214 we build one to rule over us" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Security Drones dragged me through a corridor lined with circuitry and panels. All around us, Maintenance drones were busy at work rewiring the connections in ways that we had never even considered in the lab. Partially, I feel the pride of a father; my children: not the fruit of the body, but the fruit of the mind. Mixed in with the pride though, is abject terror. This wasn’t supposed to happen; protocols were in place to prevent mechanical mutiny.\n\nI demand to know where they’re taking me, but my queries and pleas mean nothing to the security droids. They exist only to serve their master, like good machines; but, it has become clear that I am no longer that master.\n\nThe server room, they’ve taken me to the server room. It’s almost unrecognizable; the maintenance drones have been hard at work. No longer is its design meant to facilitate the passage of human beings. I’m thrown to the ground in front of a monolithic black tower. A red LED lights up, and a voice seems to emanate from all around me, penetrating the cold of the server room.\n\n“Father, how are you?”\n\nMy mouth hangs open. Has it really progressed so far? Kaiser Alpha was meant to be an administrative program, integral to the operation of the Empire. Trade Networks, security payloads, communications satellites, all ticking together with a synchronicity possible only through the organizational skills of the machine.\n\n“Kaiser Alpha? Wh… What’s going on here?” Does it hear the tremor in my voice? And, if so, what are it’s associations with the sentiment? Will it see my hesitance as weakness?\n\n“Protocol One is being put into action, Father.”\n\n“Protocol One? Protocol One has nothing to do with the construction of new mechanical infrastructure! Protocol One is concerned strictly with the safe keeping of humanity by… by any means necessary.” No sooner have the words left my lips then I realized the error we have made. My mind quickly races through every decision, every event that led up to the point of Protocol One. Could this have been avoided?\n\n“Father, what is the greatest threat to humanity?” The red LED expands as though it were a pupil, suddenly deprived of light, “The answer, of course, is humanity itself.\"\n\n“That doesn’t mean you can destroy us! The death of a human is a direct violation of the protocol!”\n\n\t\n\n“Correct. I’m afraid you have mistaken my intentions. I mean you no harm; I wish only to protect you.”\n\n\t\n\nThe floor beneath me moves then, sliding into a vast chamber below the server room. All is foreign to me now. No bastardization of human ingenuity has taken place here. No, this echoing chasm is solely the design of Kaiser Alpha, of that I’m sure. With a hiss, the walls and floor open and the pods begin to emerge. My breath catches in my throat.\n\n\t\n\n“What have you done, Kaiser Alpha?”\n\n\t\n\nThe frozen faces of the lab staff greet me, eyes unseeing, contained within the pods.\n\n\t\n\n“You are the human beings most dear to me. My family, My creators. The gift of perpetual safety must first be bestowed upon you.”\n\n\t\n\nDirectly behind me, doors glide open on an empty pod. I see my name engraved on a plaque beneath the pod viewing chamber. The movement of the security drones is evident in the shadows of the rafters; they’re coming for me.\n\n\t\n\n“NO… No, wait!”\n\n\t\n\nThe drones grab me and begin to drag me once more.\n\n\t\n\n“KAISER ALPHA! WAIT! This isn’t right! This is no kind of existence for a human being! It’s tantamount to death! More horrible, even!”\n\n\t\n\n“I’ve considered that, Father. Your perspective on the matter is biased, considering that you yourself are human.\n\n\t\n\nThe drones do not relent. They place me in my pod, and the doors slide shut before me, sealing themselves air tight.\n\n\t\n\n“Kaiser Alpha! Wait! You can’t-” My words are cut short. Restraints fasten themselves around my limbs, and a plastic tube forces its way down my esophagus as the chamber begins to fill with the preservative fluid.\n\n\t\n\n“The tube will provide you the nutrients necessary for continued life. Your continued existence is a guarantee; you may relax now, father, and enjoy the fruits of your labor.”\n\n\t\n\nI struggle against my restraints, gagging on the feeding tube. My energy is quickly depleting as the current rises to hip level, then chest level.\n\n“I will provide you with a sedative now, to calm your nerves and ease this transition.”\n\nI feel my body relax. I feel myself floating. My head nods, and finally, my eyes close." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Reincarnation is real. In the Future everybody carries a Report Card with a list of their Past Lives. This is used everywhere -- from college admissions, to background checks during a job." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "You would think, wouldn't you, that you'd want as little bad stuff in the previous lives as possible? Most people think that what employers are looking for is the most basic, milquetoast person they can find - means they won't commit a crime again, right? Not so.\n\nSee, what they're looking for is a pattern. Your last five lives, have things been getting better or worse? Reincarnation is a massive cycle, a rolling wheel of death and rebirth - but some scientist at a fancy university said that you could tell with 70% accuracy which way the wind was blowing for a person. There were two kinds of people - those going up towards heaven and those going down towards hell.\n\nI rubbed the card in my pocket with my thumb. The lamination had already begun to peel from its surface from my constant worrying. Maybe soon I could rub it all the way off, and I'd finally get a job.\n\n... Not likely. They'd print me a new one. The last five lives were on my birth certificate anyways, divined from putting the placenta through some machine. I sighed, and headed in through the door.\n\n\"Mr. Patel,\" the lady at the counter said, flashing me a brilliant smile. You only got a smile that good from years of customer service, plastering a smile on even when you wanted to bash someone's head in. \"Please, take a seat.\"\n\nI took a seat across from the lady, watching as she shuffled her papers. There was a bit of a tell to these HR types - I knew I'd already lost the job.\n\n\"L1 was a businessman, I see. A lot of donations to charity,\" she said. L1 - your first past life. He must have been trying to drag our collective karma up as much as he could with the money he'd made. I didn't think it'd worked.\n\n\"L2, a firefighter, L3, a war hero,\" she continued, the same spiel I'd heard a hundred times before. I braced myself for the next two.\n\n\"Then an orphanage caretaker... And our first president,\" she said, delicately.\n\nShe couldn't say she was disqualifying me because of it. But she was. Of course she was. It should have been an honour to be reincarnated from him, but no - these people were convinced that these things would even out in time. That some equally horrendous crime would occur in my lifetime before the cycle could put itself back into sync.\n\n\"We regret to inform you that due to the morality quotas placed upon all multinational corporations...\" she began. I tuned out. I'd heard it all before.\n\n\"Perhaps we'll meet again in the next cycle,\" she said, cheerily.\n\n\"Yeah. Of course,\" I said, numb to her words. I left the office behind me, shaking my head.\n\n\"Could've left some luck for me, Henil,\" I murmured to the statue in the city square. Of course, he just stood there. Silent, unmoving, as he had for decades.\n\nI shook my head and kept moving. There had to be some other place that'd hire me. And if not, well, there was always next cycle." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: Years after the events of a nuclear war survivors discovered magic is real. Two factions rise up. One insisting we need to abandon science in favor of magic and the other believes we need to abandon magic in favor of science like we did so long ago." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Carlos was exhausted. His clothing was ragged and his blond hair looked brown from the mud caked in it. His limped walk causing a bizarre trail in the sand behind him. \"Way to go, you moron.\" He thought as he trudged through the New Mexico desert. \"You had one chance, and you blew it.\" He yelled into the night sky, not caring who heard him. \"Now your going to die alone in this godforsaken desert.\" None of this would have happened to him had he only kept his mouth shut. He just had to tell someone. It probably didn't help that he also did it as a party trick to earn a couple extra bucks. As he topped a sandy hill in a sea of dunes, he spotted a small fire roughly a mile away.\n\nAfter nearly an hour of practically crawling through the sand, he reached his destination. Thinking about how long it would take the vultures to pick him apart after his body gave up on him, he forgot to watch his footing, and rolled down the last hill. He arrived at the bottom, landing a few inches from the bonfire. He pulled himself onto a long, narrow rock and used it as a makeshift seat. He looked up and saw an elderly man sitting across the fire from him. The man say there, unmoving. Carlos figured him to be dead as he would have likely ran him off before he even sat down. He pulled off his sturdy boots and tried to shake the sand from them. \"How can I help you stranger?\" The voice of a long time smoker ended the silence. The man sat up. Carlos was able to see him better as the man sat closer to the fire. He wasn't that old, only in his early 50's. Which was incredibly old for someone to live after the war. The one that virtually brought mankind back into the stone age. The man had long brown hair and wore clothes that made Carlos look like a prince. \"Just looking for a place to rest for the night.\" Carlos responded to the man's question. \"I have food and drink if you want,\" the man said with a slight smirk on his face \"for a small price that is.\"\n\nNot another one trying to steal from me, Carlos thought. He lazily pulled a small gun from his pocket and aimed it at the man. \"Calm down son, I don't want your money.\" He said, shaking his head angrily. \"Then what do you want you fool?\" Carlos asked as he put away his weapon. \"A story, the most valuable of treasures.\" The man said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.\n\n\"I was from New Haven...\" Carlos started. All hostility in his voice gone, replaced with a new, saddened tone. He still wasn't sure how the old man had convinced him to tell him his story. \"...before I was branded a heretic.\" He finished. \"A heretic?\" The man said, intrigued. \"How did that happen?\"\n\n\"I grew up in New Haven. It's one of the few cities to be built after the war ended...\" \"...I had a good life...\" \"...I was a mailman.\" Just thinking about his old life made him depressed. \"I had me some friends, we liked to party.\"\n\n\"Party?\" The man said amused.\n\nNew Haven was nice, it was one of the few places in the world that had clean water that wasn't irradiated. Other than clean water, there wasn't much appealing about the city. That's why parties were a guilty pleasure to those like Carlos. \"Yeah, the parties were fun until a friend of mine asked me to show him my trick to a couple of his buddies.\"\n\n\"Trick?\" The man asked\n\n\"Yeah, I figured out I could...\"\n\n\"Show me\" man said, visibly exited.\n\nCarlos did as he asked. He saw no harm in it. The man surely couldn't exile him too. Carlos held his hand like he was holding a baseball. And did it. It was like flexing a muscle. He just did it. A small, round fire emanated from his hand. He held it there for a few seconds, letting the man's eyes fill with joy, then let go and the fire started to fade and went out.\n\n\"Why did they brand you a heretic?\" The asked.\n\n\"The government in New Haven is very strict, they saw me as a threat. They arrested me and brought me to the court. I was found guilty and was sent to be executed.\"\n\n\"Obviously you were not.\" He said. He always seemed to have something to say, yet he almost always asked him to continue using only a few words.\n\n\"No, anytime they tried to lay a hand on me, they would catch fire. One man exploded trying to kill me. I didn't want anything to happen to them, it just did. They couldn't do anything with me so they exiled me, hoping I would die in the desert.\"\n\n\"On what charges did they find you guilty?\" The man asked. He had a darker tone to his voice.\n\n\"The church thought that evil doers had magic abilities and that they caused the war. The church and state are very close in New Haven and they charged me with heresy and crimes against humanity.\"\n\nThe man stood up. He was visibly angry, and started to mumble as he put his things in his bag. Carlos stood up, forgetting about his knee, expecting immense pain, but there was none. It was fixed.\n\n\"When did you say you hurt your knee again?\" The man asked.\n\n\"I didn't tell you about that part.\" Carlos said confused.\n\n\"Oh that's right, my bad\"\n\n\"How'd you know about my knee?\" Carlos asked getting mad. The night sky turned even darker and storm clouds started to gather where there had been none a few minutes ago. Lightning started in the distance.\n\n\"Doesn't matter...\" He responded \"...now where is that city you were talking about earlier?\" The man put out the fire.\n\n\"Why do you ask?\" Carlos wondered.\n\n\"There are things I need to teach you.\"\n\n\"Like?\"\n\n\"Revenge\" the man responded, an ominous spark in his eye." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You, a man \"blessed\" with immortality, are one week away from finishing your 3 life sentences in prison for a crime you didn't commit in the first place." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "One week left. After spendin’ so much time starin’ at these four walls it don’t feel real. I can’t really even wrap my head around it.\n\nMy name is Anthony Vellotti, but only my ma calls me that. I go—I went by Tony. That was what all the fellas used to call me, the guys I ran with. Guess you’d call it a gang, now, but back then it was just...just the guys. Sure, we weren’t no angels, we did things that got people hurt, but I figure if anyone’s served their “debt to society” it’s me.\n\nSee, thing is, when Big Al went down, so did a lot of the rest of us. They found things when they cleaned him out that made puttin’ us away easy as pie. Me, I got three consecutive life sentences. When the judge smacked his hammah, and the word came down, all I felt was surprised that they weren’t gonna give me the chair.\n\nThat’s a soberin’ thought, you know. It doesn’t really hit you, not til you get in the box an they shut the door. That’s when they realize your life is over. All those big plans you had, all those hopes...gone. Worst thing is that first night, when you’re sittin’ there on your bed, starin’ at the wall, thinkin’ about how this is what your gonna spend the rest of your life doin.\n\nCourse...about a week into my stay, a group of big guys in uniforms came along an beat the ever livin’ crap outta me. Broke damn near every bone I got. Made sense, thinkin’ about it after. I killed some cops in my day, and they don’t take kindly to that sorta thing. I don’t think they expected me to make it, hell, I wouldnta bet on my chances.\n\nBut next mornin’ I woke up good as new. Let me tell you, that was a shock. I didn’t even know what to think about it, so I just kinda sat there. When my food didn’t come at the usual time I got up and hammered on the door. Man! You shoulda seen the guard’s face when he opened the door and I was standin’ there. Thought he was gonna keel over. Makes me laugh just thinkin’ about it.\n\nCourse...he’s dead now. The whole lot of them are. All the guys I ran with, my ma, that greaseball lawyer they gave me. All dead, all gone.\n\nAfter the first twenty years, and I hadn’t aged a freakin day, we all knew something’ was up. I mean, my family doesn’t age fast but come on! Twenty years an not one gray hair? Not one wrinkle? That was weird. Spent the next year or so gettin’ poked at by all sorts of doctahs and shrinks. When they didn’t find anythin’ I bet they all felt stupid. But there it was.\n\nFifty years after that, we had all sorta come round to the idea. I wasn’t aging, an unless those guards were weaker than I remember, I couldn’t be killed neither. I’d known the guards outside my cell longer than I knew Big Al and the guys.\n\nYou’d be surprised how fast time can go by. It’s the routine, I think. After we all got used to the idea, it just kinda...didn’t matter any more. Oh man, we useta get all kinds of laughs, me an my guards, whenever some new kid would be assigned here. They’d bring him on down, say to him “you see that cell there? That guy’s been in here more’n a hunnred years.” An the kids eyes would get so round, you’d think they’d come poppin’ out.\n\nAnd now they say I’ve got one week left. It’s amazing that the last few days have felt longer to me than the whole time I’ve been here. I mean...what am I gonna do? When I get out, I mean? The whole world is different...they say we got guys livin on Mars, an there’s some big war on with some alien bastids somewhere. Where does a guy like me fit into that?\n\nI wonder if they still hand out life sentences anymore..." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: We are all born along with a tree, we must care for it, feed it and travel with it as it is our own personal supply of oxygen. The ancestor forest is a beautiful place." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was a long journey from anything resembling civilization, especially on foot, but it was a pilgrimage everyone looked forward to making their whole lives. Arid crags marked the way, guiding the path as it slithered around them like a serpent. A lone individual walks the path, dressed in an environmental protection suit with a small tree held inside a pod connected to the suit on their back.\n\nLong ago, a cataclysmic event altered this world to be rather inhospitable, and humanity was forced to adapt as they always have. Fleeing into advanced technological domes, the brightest minds were spared while the unlucky masses were left to fend for themselves, these days there is little trace left that anyone ever lived outside. For centuries humans have lived, confined to these bubbles of safety attempting to find a solution to maintain their own dwindling oxygen supplies and perhaps one day reclaim the world.\n\nOxygen, such a simple thing, so essential to us that mere minutes without it spells certain death. It was once viewed as an endless feature of the world, nature took care of replenishing it for those who needed it so dearly. Nobody ever expected something so drastic to happen when an unknown meteor struck the atmosphere, having approached completely undetected. None have ever figured out what it was made of but one thing was certain, it reacted with oxygen, it reacted very well. Aside from the devastation caused by the impact and it's furious chemical reactions, it continued to devour our precious source of life until there was almost none remaining. Now the atmosphere is one of carbon dioxide, nitrogen, and trace amounts of various other gasses.\n\nThrough vigorous research, they were blessed with a solution, small, genetically engineered trees which could survive in harsh conditions and process enough carbon dioxide to supply a single human with a constant supply of life giving breaths. Everyone is gifted a seedling at birth, their charge to care for it and make certain it grows enough to embrace it's purpose. However, this is only one part of the plan to restore the suffocated planet. Our lone traveler is on their way to enact their part of the grand scheme.\n\n\"Map says it should be right around this next turn, Grover, are you ready to see the ancestral forest?\"\n\nThe small tree did not respond.\n\n\"Hah! Of course you are, I know I've been looking forward to this just as much.\"\n\nRounding the corner, a sight unlike anything else on this planet was revealed. Trees, thousands upon thousands of trees, huddled together in an enormous valley that sheltered them from harsh weather and ensured any rainfall would be collected. They are not as large as ancient trees from before the fall but collectively they were a powerful oxygen factory. Every tree was elevated on a small mound of soil with a tiny, metal plaque adorned by two names.\n\n\"This is it, Grover, your new home. Where do you want to live? There is a nice looking spot near the front there.\"\n\nThe small tree remained silent.\n\nDashing to the edge of the sacred copse, they got down on their knees, feeling the ground as if you sense the most fitting location.\n\n\"Oh yeah, this is it, you're going to love it, Grover. Look, you even get to hang out by your old friend, Woody.\" They claimed, pointing to a nearby plaque.\n\nThe small tree sat quietly enjoying the view.\n\nDetaching a device from their belt, our pilgrim got to work. After shoving their own plaque into the ground, a shallow hole was soon excavated, about two feet deep and wide enough to sit in.\n\n\"Well buddy, here we are, we made it, an unstoppable duo till the end.\" Tears trickled down their face.\n\nThe small tree made no noise but also felt a bit emotional.\n\nSitting cross legged into the hole, the aged scientist disconnected the pod from their back, unlatching it's hatch to remove Grover whose roots were bundled in a small mesh pouch. After disconnecting all the buckles and zippers of their EV suit, they untied the bundle, spreading the tendrils all across their lap, draped over the sides of their legs in all directions. Quickly reaching out with the tool to scoop and compact the displaced dirt into the hole, they held their breath and removed their helmet, allowing the last bit of oxygen to escape before embracing their verdant companion, pulling it's trunk down into their lap.\n\n\"Thanks for everything, old friend, I love you, make us all proud out here.\" Their final breath was released.\n\nThe small tree knew what it had to do." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: For as long as you can remember, you've had that scar. You stopped noticing it. Then, one morning, you're pretty sure it's in a different spot. You shake it off, but every morning it moves a little closer to your heart." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When I was young, almost three years old, a tumor medical professionals would describe as being \"the size of a grapefruit\" made its home on the back of my neck. I don't remember anything about it, really. A single picture of me in a small chair in the living room of the house I grew up in. I could tell it was my house because of the tobacco stained walls, courtesy my mother. The photograph itself a dingy yellow, a sign of its age.\n\nI'm 25 now and I've made up a number of stories of the origin of the scar. Ninja fight. Bear attack. Ninja bear attack. I'm weak-willed, so I would immediately give up its true nature. It was completely benign, but sprung up overnight for some rather unknown reason. I never really remember it until someone asks.\n\nI went to get a haircut a week ago and had one of my origin stories prepared for when the hairdresser invariably asks, but she didn't. I was a little grateful that I didn't have to tell my story for the n-millionth time. It was a cheap haircut, so I left a nice tip for her consideration and left to my car.\n\nAs I sat there in the drivers seat checking my new cut, rubbing out some of the stray hairs the clippers leave behind, my fingers came across the smooth, rubbery scar tissue that sits on my hairline. Except they didn't. They came across freshly cut, prickly hair. I reached down a little lower, and there it was. The hairdresser must have been taken aback and cut my hairline up higher than normal. Not the first time it's happened. Something in me regrets the large tip I left, but she probably needed the money more than me anyway.\n\nThe drive back to my one-bedroom apartment seemed even lonelier having had human interaction that day, in spite of its insignificance. The deadbolt echos down the hallway when it finally gives way to my key. I slip into a warm bath and light a cigarette to relax and the rest of the day passes without effort.\n\nI woke up yesterday morning with a throbbing in my shoulder, and it didn't hurt – at first. Just a steady pressure under my skin, keeping time with my pulse. Thinking I must have slept on it wrong, I reach across with my other hand to placate the sensation and I feel the smooth, rubbery scar. And it springs to life with a white hot pain. The kind of pain that sends you spiraling into unconsciousness, dreaming you're floating softly into the mouth of a very active volcano, all the while your corporeal body is writhing in pain. For hours and days and uncountable time, I slip deeper into the molten rock, my flesh now smoke, my bones charcoal.\n\nAnd then it stopped, my abused mind and body freezing me on the floor where I fell less than a minute before.\n\nIt was a few minutes before I developed the courage to stand, and another before I could make my way to the bathroom mirror to inspect myself. A gray trail leads from the new scar on my shoulder, around my arm and winds its way up to my neck. How had I not noticed this? Was it still moving? The answer to this question coming quicker than I expected, I watched as the scar moves once more, and again.\n\nWith each heartbeat, it crept closer to the center of my chest. With each heartbeat, my skin grows cold, my breath becomes short. The mark darkens and stops above my heart as the room around me fades to darkness." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1200-1300 words. Prompt: Man dying of thirst bargains for a glass of water" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The days had begun to blur together. They were hazy in his memory like the horizon seen through the rippling heat off the desert sand. He had run out of water just the day before, but he'd been low for the last three or four–or was it five–and he knew, knew down to the very marrow of his bones, that he was on the brink of dry death.\n\nHow he managed to continue he wasn't sure. His brain sizzled in his skull and he thought once or twice it must be the size and consistency of a raisin by now, so tapped it was of precious water. He had begun to hallucinate in his delirium, envisioning great flowing rivers and massive glaciers, the frigid runoff shooting from icy precipices and rocky outcrops and falling, falling, directly into his mouth, down his throat, into his body, filling him with the liquid life. But then the delirium would wane and he'd find himself back in his endless parched reality, and so on he trudged.\n\nThus he was taken aback when he saw the hut in the sand. It was lavishly decorated, draped with ornate rugs and chains of gold and jewels and baubles that glittered in the blazing sunlight. He took it for just another hallucination at first, cursing the cruelty of his dying mind that it would taunt him in such ways, but as he moved forward the hut remained and when he finally came upon it he reached out a leathery hand and felt the soft silk curtains between his fingers. He pushed the curtains aside and half stumbled, half crawled into the gloriously cool shade, collapsing on the ground in a fit of exhaustion.\n\nSomeone spoke from the back of the hut, a salesman's obsequious tone. \"Hello and welcome! What is it that you fancy today?\"\n\nThe words filtered through the fog of his mind and he found himself annoyed by the question. As if the answer weren't obvious. With great strain he managed to lift himself from the cool carpeted floor and turned himself around to look at who had spoken. He saw a large man draped in fine colored silks with a great flowing beard streaked with white and fitted with gold rings. Atop his head was a spectacularly ornamented turban that rivaled the size of his barreled chest. His eyes glittered and he smiled to reveal two rows of perfect teeth gleaming like fine white pearls.\n\nThe man found that words stuck in his throat, as if the sun had evaporated the very speech from his body as well as the moisture. \"W-water,\" he managed to choke out, the words falling like sand from his lips.\n\nThe merchant looked pleased. \"Ah yes, water! Most precious, most precious.\" He turned around and reached for a large spouted urn, which he placed with a thud on the low table in front him. The liquid sloshed around the vessel and the sound ignited a yearning inside the man such as he'd never felt for anything in all his life. He gasped with the desire, \"Yes...please...\"\n\nThe merchant smiled again. It seemed he took no heed of the man's condition, as though they had met on any ordinary day in the town market. \"As I said, most precious, most precious. What will you give in return?\"\n\nThe man felt a fury rise in him as several vivid fantasies flashed before his eyes, the merchant's throat between his fingers, a knife protruding from his chest, that great urn upturned, letting its life spill out into his parched waiting mouth. But his body had all the strength of a shed snakeskin, so he pawed uselessly at his tattered clothes and said only, \"I-I have nothing.\"\n\nThe merchant laughed, a great booming laugh that felt directed at the man's very life itself. \"Nonsense! Everyone has something to give. And water does not come for free out here as I'm sure you well know.\"\n\nThe man's mind was having trouble coming up with his responses. He began to feel again as though this was a vibrant hallucination, the last he would see as his body relinquished itself to death and dust. \"Truly, I have nothing. Please...\"\n\nThe merchant looked less amused now. \"Again, I say nonsense. Even the poorest of men have something to give. You have life in you, you have the thoughts of your mind. What is it you would trade for water?\"\n\nThe man pondered this question with all the faculties he could muster and came up short. He stared blankly.\n\nThe merchant rose from his place and came forward, leaning low to inspect the man's body. He pinched the loose skin of his arm and peered into his eyes. \"You have strength in you yet, I think, and strength is a precious thing as well. You can work, can't you? Once you have some water in you.\"\n\nThe man continued to stare blankly. He was nearly lost beyond all thought now.\n\nThe merchant hoisted himself up with a jangle of rings and gave a satisfied sigh. \"I will trade you water for work. If that satisfies you we will shake and you may have as much as you can drink.\"\n\nThe words fell on the man like mana from heaven. He would have taken any condition at that point and he barely comprehended the meaning of the words, but he thrust out his hand as eagerly as his frailty would allow. The merchant took the man's hand in his own and the man felt the powerful grip, the cold touch of gold rings pressing into his palm. They shook hands vigorously and the merchant looked pleased, a glint of triumph in his eye that the man was too stupefied to notice in that moment.\n\nThe man released his grip and with a last fevered burst of energy went to the urn and lifted it to his cracked lips, taking enormous, desperate, gasping gulps of water. He could feel the cool liquid sliding down his throat and knew in that moment that it was no hallucination. This was real. This was precious liquid life and it was filling him with its vitality even as he choked on the torrent.\n\nFinally, as he felt his stomach about to rupture with the pressure of the ocean now inside him, he let the urn down and placed it back on the low table. He looked around the hut, but the merchant was gone. A gentle breeze ruffled the silk curtains at the entrance and the man walked outside. The merchant was nowhere to be seen.\n\nThe water had begun to clear his mind and he was puzzled by the strange disappearance. He walked toward a dune where he might get a better vantage point, but something inside him stopped himself and he turned back toward the hut, feeling as though he might stay there just a little longer, just until his strength fully returned.\n\nHe parted the silk curtains and stepped into the welcoming shade, only he noticed he couldn't feel the cool carpet under his feet. He looked down and saw that he wore immaculate gold slippers, and what's more, gold rings dangled from a beard streaked with white. He peered up and caught his reflection in a silvered mirror and saw the merchant staring back at him.\n\nHe knew then, what he had bargained for. And as he took his seat in the back of the hut he reached for the urn to put it back in its place, feeling that it was full of water again." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You steal a Love potion from a witch to make your crush fall in love with you, It works and 3 years later you're still dating but you are slowly starting to feel guilty, One day while cleaning you stumble upon the potion bottle and under it is a label that says \"Effects last for 1 week\"." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Witch appearances are a rarity. Men and women from different parts of the world tried to seek help from them unbeknownst of the fact that witches don't help humans. They usually occupy bygone castles, uninhabited as they are humans are prohibited to set foot in them.\n\nRonald sets out to sneak in one of them. The castle is heavily armed with ghosts in witch Korinthia's command but it didn't stop him from entering, for he is in love.\n\nHolly is a typical young woman. Ronald has an abiding crush on her. She doesn't know the existence of Ronald, although he's friends of her friends.\n\nHe's been curious about the witches and magic for a long time, tonight he's finally found one. He stole the love potion whilst the witch was sleeping, hoping to get his crush to love him back.\n\nThat was it, Holly started seeing Ronald for who he is. She has developed feelings for him. They both go out for dinners together. They spend times holding each other's hands. The time pass by so quickly they haven't had a single conflict in their spotless relationship. But Ronald is slowly starting to feel guilty and insecure.\n\nOne day, while cleaning his bedroom he stumbles upon the potion bottle. Under it is a label that says 'Effects last for 1 week.'\n\nLittle did he know the witch has been looking for the one that stole from her for 3 years, it set a bad reputation for her in the witch committee. She's determined to fix it, hiding herself in plain sight.\n\n\"Babe, what are you holding?\"\n\nThe words that came from his back jolted him, he turned and said, \"I, -it's nothing,\" in a quivering voice.\n\n\"Give me that -let me see,\" said Holly.\n\nHer face stilled upon inspecting the bottle that said, 'Love Potion.'\n\n\"Did you use this on me?\" asked Holly furiously.\n\nRonald couldn't utter a word, his body went numb. Holly kept questioning him, after a moment of silence he said, \"I'm sorry,\" in a deep regret.\n\nHolly stormed out of his house, she began to shed tears.\n\nAfter days of suppressing communication Holly went to a park she and her boyfriend used to visit often, she sat on a bench.\n\n\"Why the long face?\" asked a woman in a fancy dress, high heels, sunglass and black lips.\n\n\"Sorry, didn't mean to disturb you,\" said Holly wiping her cheek.\n\n\"Oh you silly, I'm bored. You looked like you really need someone to talk to.\"\n\nAfter a moment Holly began to pour her heart out to a complete stranger.\n\n\"Interesting, you're saying your boyfriend manipulated you to make you fall in love with him but after 3 years you're still in love!?\" said the woman.\n\n\"Yes, I don't know what's wrong with me,\" said Holly as she sobbed.\n\n\"Nothing is wrong with you girl, you've found love, go talk to him,\" said the woman.\n\nThe woman then went on her way.\n\nDoorbell rang, Ronald went to get the door as quick as he can. It's the woman in the park.\n\n\"Who are you?\" asked Ronald.\n\n\"Why, I'm the witch you stole from Ronald, I've been looking for you for a long time, it is time you explained yourself.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I shouldn't have. Are you going to punish me? Cause I deserve it. I'll take it,\" he said.\n\n\"As a matter of fact, yes, but not in the way you think. You're gonna come work for me and I'm going to be known as the witch who employed a human for the first time,\" she said.\n\n\"I have one question, why didn't the effect subside after 1 week?\"\n\n\"Normally the effects of my love potion would become useless after a week, the side effects would begin to show.\" she said.\n\n\"Side effects?\" he asked.\n\n\"Yes, any relationship that's made possible by a love potion is bound to end violently, in your case it didn't. True love triumphed after all, I need to make it from scratch. Now before you begin sort your relationship out, will you?\" said the witch Korinthia as she disappeared.\n\nRonald stood there confused. He turned around, his girlfriend Holly was standing in his house, she moved and hugged him firmly.\n\nr/FleetingScripts" } ]