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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: The entire Pentagon is transported to 15th Century Europe, and is besieged by an alliance of local nobles intent on taking the \"castle\" for their own ends" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The chatter of automatic fire mixes with the guttural roar of a thousand men charging.\n\n\"Colonel! I need that line secured NOW!\"\n\n\"We're doing everything we can, sir! We can hold them off for now, but only half of the security force was inside! We don't have enough men to hold the perimeter, and the few men I have are armed with their service pistols. We've barricaded the windows and braced the main doors, but we can't keep them out for long. They have a battering ram for the love of... What are my options?\"\n\n\"We need to establish communication with the aggressors as soon as possible. What language do they speak?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure, sir, but we have no translators. We need alternatives now, before any of those savages breach E Ring.\"\n\nThe general sighs, folding his arms across his chest.\n\n\"So you're telling me we have no way to communicate with the hostiles?\"\n\n\"That's right, sir, no one speaks the language.\"\n\n\"Then I have no choice but to order rapid dominance operations against the hostiles.\"\n\n\"Sir, are you ordering an offensive? We don't have the materiel for an operation of that size! Our lookouts are reporting a force of at least 10,000 on our perimeter. They're all armed. We have the manpower, but our weapons and ammunition are limited. This wasn't meant to be a frontline instillation! We only had security forces when the... whatever it was... brought us here. My officers are stretched too thin, sir! I need more weapons and operators just to hold E Ring, let alone start an offensive.\"\n\n\"Colonel, I can get you all the weapons you need. After 9/11, the secretary of defense ordered a continuity of government installation be built under the plaza. Inside is enough food and medicine to support the entire staff for three months-\"\n\n\"That's good news sir, but I don't see how that's relevant to the current-\"\n\n\"Also stored are enough weapons and ammunition to arm a division. The secretary anticipated that in an endgame scenario, Washington would need a cache of supplies to ward off an invasion force. My orders are to requisition the AT-4 rocket launchers and M2 machine guns you find there. The hostiles haven't experienced explosives or automatic fire. They WILL retreat under the right circumstances. Take the heavy weapons to the second floor above the main entrance. Once you're ready-\"\n\nA haggard junior officer bursts into the room.\n\n\"General! They've broken through! E Ring is being overrun! The security forces have been overwhelmed, what are my orders?\"\n\n\"Go back to E Ring, my orders are to make a full withdrawal to A Ring. Colonel, the situation has changed. Round up as many men as you can. Get to F Ring and arm yourselves. Then, form fire teams and clear E Ring of hostiles. I will NOT allow this instillation to fall under my watch!\"\n\n\"Sir, most of the staff here are pencil pushers. They haven't seen firearms since basic!\"\n\n\"Colonel, every person here is a soldier. I know that their training will take over. I am in command of a military instillation, and it's about damn time we start acting like it! Now find your ass and everyone you find a weapon and clear E Ring!\"\n\n\"Yessir.\"\n\nThe colonel and junior officer rush out of the office.\n\n\"Why now? Why me? This was supposed to be a desk job, not the damn front lines! I'm not cut out for this. None of us are. I haven't commanded an operation since the gulf, and... wait, that's it!\"\n\nThe general sprints out of the office and catches the colonel and junior officer.\n\n\"Gentlemen, the plan has changed. We cannot afford a withdrawal anymore. Get everyone to the armory in F Ring. I am ordering a shock and awe offensive on the enemy force effective immediately. The use of all heavy weaponry is authorized. I want every one of those savages dead.\"\n\n\"Sir yes sir!\"\n\nThe general's idea was successful. The Pentagon staff managed to intimidate the invading army, which withdrew under withering automatic fire. The Americans held to their nation's ideals, establishing a new republic. The general, held up as the savior of the pentagon, was elected president. He immediately ordered the construction of a wall surrounding their position. The staff proved extremely resourceful under pressure. Farms, were planted to provide food, and some of the soldiers with technical knowledge banded together to start a machine shop. Throughout it all, the locals remained wary of their new neighbors, but came to realize that as long as they did not stray too close to the wall, the newcomers would leave them in peace.\n\nIn time, the hostility between the groups faded. Some of the soldiers established a school, teaching the locals english, and knowledge that would prove invaluable. The locals gradually grew accustomed to the new addition to their lives, and saw the soldiers as figures of power. These strangers had managed to build incredible things in their short time here, after all.\n\nThe young officer was the first to marry a local. She was the beginning of a wave of integration between the two cultures. The newly established United States of America quickly expanded its borders. Their superior technology, weapons and discipline ensured their success. The republic grew to encompass most of Europe.\n\nThis time around, the U.S. managed its expansion with a moral code. The soldiers transported with the Pentagon were well versed in history, and were loathe to let history repeat itself. Feudal lords were not made to cede their territory as the american indians were. However, as a matter of course, earls, counts and dukes would hear of a marvelous new nation on their borders, would tour the new land, and shortly organize a 'vote' among the people to join the Union.\n\nThe soldiers' knowledge and technology spread with the borders, improving quality of life immeasurably. The knowledge that came with joining the Union was irresistible. It was inevitable that the U.S. Would expand explosively. By the 16th century, there was only one government. The world saw democratic, federal government on an unprecedented scale. Moreover, technology 600 years before its time was introduced. The first powered flight took place in 1421. The first man stepped on the moon, fittingly, on October 12, 1492. By 2014, humanity was a thriving, interstellar species on the cusp of true greatness. The transportation of the Pentagon to 15th century Europe proved to be a great gift to humanity, uniting man as a single group and advancing technology by 600 years." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: It's custom when someone is ready to die, they do it outside, alone, and hidden so as not to burden the family with the body. A mother has just told her child that she is tired, so very tired, and wants to go for a walk." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The culture that I live in has two fairly perculurar traditions when it comes to death. The first tradition is trying our best to relieve our loved ones of dealing with a body after it dies. Some people like to find quiet spots to lay down, away from viewing eyes. They mix berries, tea leaves, and the stalk of a poison flower into a drink and just slowly drift off to sleep. Or they find a lovely cliff to overlook. They eat a lovely lunch and then let the sea take them. Or sometimes, they will wait for a long, cold, winter night and simply walk out into the darkness never to be seen again.\n\nThey say that the reason people do it is because it's a way to take the burden off the people you love. However, I think it's a symptom of how brutal death can be in this world. I have never once seen a peaceful death. Every death I have seen has been a burden on me.\n\nWhen I was 5 my grandfather disappeared. He just stood up and left the house with a stoic look on his face. He got up, said \"My hands don't have the strength they used to.\" and walked out the door. He didn't know I was following him until it was to late. I can still remember the look of panic in his eye as he met my gaze the moment after he kicked out the log supporting his weight.\n\nI'm pretty sure he tried to save himself. He was grabbing at the rope and trying to pull himself to safety. In fact, in the last moment before he died, he was doing everything in his power not to. But like he said, his hands just didn't have the strength they used to. Either way, I learned two things that day. 1) How to tie a noose. And 2) That I don't ever want to burden my family by making them watch what I did that day.\n\nWhen I was 10 I witnessed another death. Me and my two older brothers were working at a neighboring farm when my eldest brother and the neighbors son got careless and fell off the silo. We all watched in horror as they stumbled and tumbled to their death. One second they were alive and the next they were dead. The men swore and kicked the dirt, the women wailed in grief, but to be honest it only lasted for a short while.\n\nEventually my father and the boys father looked at each other with the same stoic look that my grandfather had and brought the two boys broken bodies to the woods. Later, curiosity got the better of me and I tried finding the bodies. When I finally did I saw that the wild animals had already done a fairly decent job of getting rid of the flesh. Eventually the beasts would take their fill and all trace of my brother would disappear. He would no longer be a burden on us.\n\nNow before I get ahead of myself I would like to say that it would be wrong to assume that we don't care about the passing of our loved ones. Death can be brutal and unexpected, but that's not to say that we are completely ignorant to our feelings. This leads me to our second tradition when it comes to death. On the following spring after a person had passed, the family gets together and plants a tree for the dead.\n\nThe functions that the tree serve are as earnest as the culture that created them. It acts as proof that the person has died. There have been situations in the past where people try to take advantage of our culture and have \"taken long walks\" only to return years later and burden the family unexpectedly. It's not official or anything but it's generally accepted that once your tree is planted that you are finally dead. This allows people to move on and no longer be burdened by the death of a loved one.\n\nI was 17 when I planted my mothers tree next to my brother and grandfather tree. The winter before that spring she had stood up with a sad, stoic, look in her eyes and said that she was tired and was going for a walk. So I nodded, wrapped a scarf around her, kissed her goodbye, and let her go knowing that she wouldn't feel like a burden any longer. I was sad to see her go but by that time I had learned that death can be brutal and harsh.\n\nCould I really fault her for wanting to face it on her own terms? She didn't want to be a burden so she wasn't. In a way I think that's cowardly, but in another way it's admirable. That's just how death goes I suppose. No death is honorable. No death is beautiful. No death is easy to swallow. So instead you focus on life. You make your life honorable and you live each day beautifully. If she no longer felt she could do that then maybe it was for the best.\n\nI planted a beautiful tree for my mother. It's just kind of what you do I guess. Our family grove is full of beautiful trees. In fact, I'm sure somebody will plant a beautiful tree for me when I die. When I was a kid I wanted a beautiful tree planted too. I wanted to be remembered as something beautiful when I was gone. However, now that I'm older, I kind of just want something simple. Something easy to take care of. Something that won't cause the boy who rakes the leaves up to much of a burden come fall." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: \"You know, this place held a lot more potential when it was empty.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Congrats, guys,” the man says, sitting in a wooden chair with red cushions, forearms resting on the walnut tabletop. “You’re the proud owners of 2392 Byron Way.”\n\nThree of the four men smile and one stands up to extend a hand to the man holding the mountains of paperwork they’d just filled out. The man with his too red cheeks and combed over pale-blonde, nearly white, hair. After the handshake ends and an almost equally large file full of documents is traded to the still standing man, the other three rise as well and, one by one, shake hands with the realtor.\n\n“Well, do we start investing in shelves? Books?” Brandon asks once they are safely outside of the plain building, away from the man with his paid for fake smile.\n\n“Yeah, about that, man,” Andrew, the commander of deals and initiator of fine business handshakes, starts. His confidence is unflinching and his expression apologetic. “Look, people don’t need books like they used to. We have the internet, dude. The fucking internet.” His tone strains to accent this word. Internet. Like it’s the most important thing he has ever said in his life, smile wide on his thin lips as he shows just the caps of his perfect white teeth. “The internet and e-books and whatever, there’s no real profit to be made in charity.”\n\nMeanwhile, the other two men, both just wasting away in the adrenalin rush of having spent all of their savings on the advice of their charismatic college buddy, the kind of guy who’d never lead you wrong, they just watch. They watch like they’re not really listening. Their wives are home wondering anxiously whether they’ve made a mistake in agreeing but those men were just so convincing when Andrew held their strings. They knew what to say and how to say it, as long as he wrote the script and played it out first.\n\n“What?” Brandon asks, eyes reaching the widest they’d been since Andrew started speaking.\n\n“You own one-fifth of this property and one-fifth of its interests. You can cash out if you want, but it’d be a loss,” he replies casually, cocking his head and giving a half-hearted crooked smile. The kind you give to a child trying to tie their shoes for the first time, knot slipping through over and over until they ask you for help. “The location, it’s fucking spot on perfect for a, like, one of those hipster coffee joints. The ones that serve some breakfast but nothing without a fucking frilly garnish thing.”\n\n“A breakfast place?” Brandon questions.\n\nWhen they first saw the property with its wooden beam interior and high ceilings Brandon saw his dreams coming true. He built bookshelves in his mind that lined the old walls and an exclusive section on the smaller second floor where children who loved fantasy stories the way he had could climb the iron spiral staircase and indulge. Indulge in a world better than the one outside of the walls. A library meant to serve primarily the youth in their suffering community.\n\n“Well, they can serve lunch,” Dean states, nodding his head with pride as his dark eyes glue themselves to Andrew in wait of approval.\n\n“Dude, lunch. Fuck yeah,” Keith agrees, also watching their fearless leader.\n\n“Whatever, just…” Brandon sighs, running a hand against his dark kinky hair. “Just let me know how it all goes.”\n\nAndrew shrugs and gives a single huff of a laugh before mimicking the action, palming over his buzzed hair. “Your loss, gonna miss out on the best fucking part. But whatever you say.”\n\nIt takes six months of time and more monetary investment than the other two men had ever dreamed, but the restaurant opens. Brandon doesn't attend any of the meetings, he doesn't help pick the Edison bulbs or the split wood tables, he doesn't give input on the plank dividers that separate the main eating area from the coffee lounge. The coffee lounge which he had imagined, in his library fantasy, would host old sofas with plush velvet cushions and dark wooden lions feet legs meant for people to come and enjoy books without having to leave the building. Even the little upstairs nook had been bastardized and turned into a land of machines; not a fantasy world but a place for people to send emails and stalk their closest friends.\n\nWhen he does show up, the space is bustling with young adults scooping away at piles of rosemary potatoes and eggs with cilantro garnish all switching between conversation and seconds long pauses to include the digital world in their dining experience. By the time he walks through the door, the little restaurant has already made him enough money to deem it a worthwhile investment.\n\n“Dude, I fucking told you,” Andrew brags, hands stuffed into his pockets with that same cocky smile on his lips.\n\nSkeptically glancing to each wall, mentally redecorating to his initial desires, Brandon shrugs and offers nothing more than a pathetic attempt at a half-smile and says, “You know, this place held a lot more potential when it was empty.”\n\nThen he walks out." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: When you were a kid, your dad went out for a pack of smokes and never came back. Until last night. And he actually has a pretty good excuse, with proof." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Some days,without warning - the world decides to throw a bunch of shocking twists in your face and expects you to handle them just as normal\n\nI don't doubt there are people who are capable of such equanimity but I definitely wasn't one of them\n\nMy mind was in turmoil, as I sat down on the stoop of my house , fished out a cigarette from a pack i had flicked from my mothers bedroom and took my time to light up.\n\nIt was a glorious summer evening but my mind wasn't able to process the sights that my eyes saw. Mainly because my eyes weren't able to focus on anything\n\nI heard footsteps behind me and I had to suppress an urge to turn back. I knew who it was.\n\n\"Shall I sit here next to you ?\"\n\nI didn't answer, didn't know how to answer , what to answer\n\nI felt his weight settling on the steps next to me, settling down for what I hoped would not be a conversation.\n\nI wasn't in the mood for talking today. Heck I wasn't in the mood to talk forever with him\n\n\"Listen kiddo , I am sorry. I shouldn't have come back here. But I couldn't help it.\n\nI am sorry to have caused you more pain than anyone should. \"\n\n\"Don't call me kiddo. And I expect you out of my mother's house by tonight. It's the least you could do to honour her memory , you bastard \"\n\nI felt hot tears running down my cheeks and knew I couldn't control it any longer - my anger towards this man , sitting next to me , calling me kiddo knew no bounds.\n\nI just wanted to stub out my cigarette in his eye socket. And light another one and stub that out too in his other eye.\n\n\"I will leave soon. But before I leave I just wanted to tell you I love you so much. And to tell you about that day 20 years ago \"\n\nHe didn't need to tell me anything about that day.\n\nMy first exposure to the truth about how selfish people could be.\n\nAt the ripe old age of 5.\n\nAs was becoming the norm those days, he and Mom had had an argument. About what I didn't know\n\nMy dad had stormed out of the house saying he was going to get cigarettes. And had never come back. Until out of nowhere he had returned , an unpleasant ghost from the past knocking on my door today afternoon.\n\nI turned to face him , reluctantly , but needing to.\n\nFor I wanted to see him eye to eye when I told him to fuck off\n\nI noticed he was crying too. The cheek of him. Expecting sympathy for a runaway dad.\n\n\"I did come back after getting cigarettes. And found your Mother, the love of my life , standing gun in hand over the dead body of my wretched friend who had tried to rape her.\n\nWe didn't have much time before the cops came but I knew that you needed a Mother more than a jobless Dad.\n\nYour mother was hysterical and took a lot of convincing but I knew in my heart that I had to do what needed to be done.\n\nI was released from prison just last week .\n\nAnd frankly when I came by the house today where I once had dreamt of a long life with a loving wife and a darling daughter, the apple of my eye, I was convinced that no one I knew would be here\n\nI guess I was wrong\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Your teachers are literal demons in human shapes, but they teach for the same reason every teacher does. They love children." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Why do we do it? I wonder that everyday, every hour, every minute, every second. A feeling of abject sadness fills me. A feeling of claustrophobia grips my nerves and I tremble sometimes without warning. I wish I could tell the others, I wish I could warn them.\n\nMr. Beelzebub stares at me, telling me I look wonderful in my gown and cap. I remember when he was my favorite teacher. We called him Mr. Bub then. Now he is something greater, his true self.\n\n“You look wonderful, Penny,” he says.\n\n“Thank you, sir.”\n\nThe others are just as scared. Their eyes dart like prey, panicked and hopeless. I wonder if any of us knew that this would happen. I wonder if we did and just blocked it out. We were vulnerable then, children, and they were our guiding lights. They loved us, cared for us, understood our desires. Maybe we did know, but we thought the price a fair one to pay.\n\nThe lights dim and the song plays. Mr. Bub speaks and the parents and lower classes applaud. I think about running away, but what good would that do? I think about running on stage and warning them, warning everyone in the audience. And then I think how foolish I am.\n\nThey all clap, everyone. They know what will happen. Even the young ones. They know it even if they will tune it out, pretend it doesn’t exist. How could I be so dumb? I was once part of that audience. I saw it many times. How could I have forgotten? Are children really that self-absorbed that they would forget such a thing?\n\nThe answer hits me as they roar for the graduating class. We’re finally eighteen and now all the love has gone. The first girl collects her certificate and smiles. Mr. Bub puts his hand on her head, slithers of smoke rising, and then he smiles at her.\n\n“Congratulations Ms. Ansi,” he says. “You’ve made it.”\n\nAnd she walks off the stage to her parents and kisses them. She is a lucky one. The crowd cheers for her and then a boy walks up. I know him. I used to have a crush on him.\n\n“Congratulations Mr. Allen,” Mr. Bub says.\n\nThen he smiles wide and exposes his teeth. Devon Allen squirms as Mr. Beelzebub pins him to the podium. The crowd gasps and hoots.\n\n“I’m sorry,” Mr. Bub says. “You haven’t made it.”\n\nHe cuts open the boy in a spray of blood. The crowd is on its feet, cheering for the demon that their taxes fund. Devon struggles and screams. His cap falls off and he is crying before he dies. Mr. Bub drinks his blood and then the ushers remove the body.\n\nGossip soars around me as we line up to receive our certificate. Some survive, many die. It is a long and harrowing graduation. Finally they reach L and my heart pounds, begging for mercy from whoever will give it.\n\n“Ms. Lane?” I hear.\n\nI walk forward to the applause. My parents take pictures and cheer on the loudest. Mr. Bub is smiling, his eyes red with anticipation. He sticks out his hand and I take it. Everything goes silent and I wonder what will happen.\n\n“Congratulations Ms. Lane,” he says.\n\nHe puts his hand on my forehead and I feel a whirlwind of thoughts. I hear the screams of hell and the crackle of the endless fires. I hope I am not sent there. I hope I get to live. I close my eyes and pray for the best." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: In the midst of a zombie apocalypse you realise everyone is faking being a zombie to blend in." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A man rushes down the main street of a small town; small shops, once run by loving members of a community that wanted nothing more than a simple, peaceful life. That life was gone. Windows broken, vehicles and detritus strewn haphazardly around the two lane road like a child's toys. The man stops, panting in an enclave, eyes darting in every direction, his ears strained searching for any sound past the nothingness. The deafening silence after the last sound of his footfalls fade is maddening. The man leans against the brick face of the enclave he is huddled in, dressed in multiple layers of shirts and jackets which can be seen protruding from up under each other, his lower half is clearly adorned in much the same way. He wears boots that seem to be coming apart at the seams, his entire wardrobe is the same dust color, caked on in layers that make the clothing appear finely starched in muddy waves.\n\nA slight groan is heard like a low fog, coming from somewhere that can't be discerned; the hollow buildings down mainstreet create conflicting echoes.\n\nThe dingy man stiffens and looks around, slowly moving forward around the right side of his enclave. Slowly lifting one foot, carefully placing it on the ground only after inspecting each step for glass or anything that would crunch. He makes his way around a small sedan, coming to the front of a house he recognizes. \"Gary\" a dusty whisper escapes the man's lips, he himself seems to not even recognize his own voice. Seeing the heavy metal locking mechanism that had become the standard for houses since the initial quarantine, he walks around the right side of the house, past a row of shrubs that reach almost to the gutter of the house, grabbing at the sun.\n\nComing towards a gate that is missing most of its slats, he peers through one of the openings. Past the fence is a mass of huddled bodies gently swaying, occasionally making guteral moans. The other side of the fence opposite the man is completely destroyed. The huddled mass seems to be disengaged with its surrounding, acting as one unit, still gently swaying in their huddle. Peering left, towards what once was a wall of glass doors into gary's home, the man notices a lone creature, detached from the group in the yard who appeared to be neck deep in gary's fridge. Gently stepping through a section of fence with multiple slats missing, the man sidles against the inside of the fence staying as far from the mass as possible, making it to the blown out glass door the man stands, slightly more comfortable being away from the creatures congregating in the yard. He also feels a sense of nostalgia; he'd been here many times with good people he missed dearly.\n\nThe room is in shambles. It's a sunken room, wood floors that were once pristine now crack and sink, rotten beyond repair. The plaster of the wall has drooped in long strips from the ceiling to the moulding floors. Large, dark brown water spots pock the ceiling. Looking to the right from his entry point there is a slight step up, leading to a staircase on the left and the kitchen on the right. The man can see the corner of the fridge from here and can now hear the creature, seemingly rummaging through something in the kitchen. Peering around the corner cautiously, he sees the beast huddled in the corner. He is beside a doorframe, the door is nowhere to be seen.\n\nUpon seeing the figure huddled, the man notices what appears to be a jacket he recognizes. The spark of recognition fires in the man's brain, flooding him with emotion. \"Gary..\" he chokes, throat still dry and now choke with emotion. The head of the figure whips around and a sharp intake of breath is all the man hears before the creature is up, on his feet and has crossed the room, grabbing the man by his forearm with his right hand and slapping a hand over the man's mouth in one swift motion. \"Dan, if you make one fucking noise, you're killing us both\".\n\nStill holding the Dan's forearm the creature, looking less like one of the huddled beast upon closer observation, grabs a door handle the man previously hadn't seen, to the left of the door with the missing frame. He whips Dan into what turns out to be a small pantry, lighting a small lighter and gingerly taking his hands off Dan's mouth the not-creature whispers sharply \" Where have y-, What the fuck are you doing, where have you been?\"\n\n\"Where have I been?\" Dan pants, \" why the hell are you dressed like that gary?\" Now able to see the man's face somewhat clearly it's obvious that he has some form of stage makeup applied, making him appear gray, dead eyed and covered in wounds. \"Dan, we thought you were dead, there wasn't options man... shit. Wait til everyone hears about this\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You are a paladin or priest in a standard fantasy setting. You've always wondered if you will ever slip and betray the gods you serve. Instead the gods betrayed you." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Orthodoxy's view on pagans has always confused me. Rather than siding with Arch-Adept Morello, who taught that the \"salvation\" they were promised was found in the ending of their lives, or Arch-Adept Gelvin, who claimed their salvation was found in a conversion we are called to bring about, the Orthodoxy seems to somehow accept both and neither at the same time. Were it not for the divine authority they held, an authority confirmed by Hracknar every time I came to him in prayer, I would not have been standing amidst the burning Andar capital.\n\nThe Andar were a simple people, living primarily in the forests west of the Vrush River, but they had been too openly pagan for the Orthodoxy's liking. In fact, three weeks before I was sent to humble them, they had thrown Hracknar's priests out of their temples and resumed preaching their own gods. But despite my mission to destroy their homes and crush their armies, I was ordered to kill as few as possible. And now they stood cowering before me, families, children, old men. All of them unable to look me in the eye, as if I were the god who had come to judge them that day.\n\nIt was always when people saw me like that, as some terrible power to hide from, that doubt would dance around the edges of my thought. Hracknar, as far as I could tell from my prayers and from his written word, was not the same as the wrath of my hammer or the fear in the eyes of pagans. I could not see him in the ash that clogged the sky, nor in the blood that soaked the streets. It took every ounce of willpower to continue marching around the town square, continue shouting to the Andar their heresies and crimes. With a prayer to ask for strength, I once again kept myself from failing Hracknar.\n\nIt was then, just as I was bringing my speech to a climax, that a young Andar man stood in front of me. His clothes looked somewhat regal, but were stained by mud and ash. His face was dirty, and bleeding, but determined. He challenged me there and then, but before I could strike him down for his insolence he incited a code I did not think he would know existed. As a paladin of Hracknar, he obliged me to face him in a duel of piety, delaying his death until we could finish the ceremony. Afterwards, I was sure Hracknar would strike him down personally, as was always the end result of a duel of piety.\n\nAnd it was in that duel that I discovered why I could never see Hracknar in destruction, why I could never see Hracknar in the palaces of the Orthodoxy, and why I could never really see him very clearly at all. Once the chants were chanted and the shrines prepared, Hracknar did not smite my opponent down. Rather, the man glowed with holy light, and I was forced to my knees as he spoke.\n\nAt first I thought I had failed Hracknar, that I would soon be smitten myself. I prepared myself for my just punishment, but none came. Listening to the man's words I realised that Hracknar's intent was not to smite me at all. The man spoke blasphemy after blasphemy, each word tearing a hole in my beliefs yet carrying the power of a god I recognised all too well. But, while I recognised the power, recognised Hracknar, I realised I did not know Hracknar. The Orthodoxy did not preach in his name. My prayers had never been answered by him.\n\nHe never was who I believed in.\n\nFour days later, the screams stopped. Everything stopped. My hammer ceased swinging, bones ceased breaking. For a while. For you see, you would think that the wrath of a god would be the force to be reckoned with. But not when that god was as pitiful as I know believe Hracknar to be. No, the wrath to be feared is the wrath of a paladin who never really tore down cities in the name of his god. I tear down cities in my own name, by my own power, and no mere god can stop me." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1200-1300 words. Prompt: A cosplayer, a security guard, and a fully costumed furry whose zipper is stuck unintentionally recreate the entire plot of \"Beauty and the Beast\"." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Belle walked through the atrium of the convention center; although she came for the much smaller nuclear physics convention, it was unfortunately booked at the same time as the local FurCon. She brushed past people in costume, desperately trying to avoid their stares, as she ran to the escalator.\n\nAs soon as she stepped on, she was knocked flat on her back by someone who rolled down. When she came to her senses, she found herself staring into the soulless plastic eyes of a fox costume.\n\n\"Sorry!\" the stranger shouted, quickly scrambling to his feet and running away.\n\n\"Stop!\" a security guard shouted, hopping the balustrade and giving chase. He, too, ran straight into Belle, also knocking her down.\n\n\"Am I invisible?\" Belle muttered, slowly getting to her feet.\n\n\"Whoa, you look...\" the security guard stuttered, before holding out his hand. \"Gaston. And you are?\"\n\n\"Belle. Listen, I'm not here for this,\" she quickly began, motioning around her. \"I'm here for the physics convention.\"\n\n\"Oh, an educated girl!\" Gaston laughed. \"Up the stairs, to the right.\"\n\n\"If I may ask, what was that about?\"\n\n\"Him? He runs around in costume, even in rooms where it's forbidden. A total freak if you ask me.\" He licked his palm and slicked his greasy hair back. \"So, wanna get a drink tonight?\"\n\n\"I'm gonna be at a formal event tonight,\" she spoke, waving him away.\n\n\"Damn,\" Gaston muttered to himself, long after she had left. \"I have to find a way to get that.\"\n\n--\n\nIn the evening, when Belle's convention had finally wrapped up for the day, she walked back through the large atrium, typing on her laptop with one hand as she precariously balanced it with the other. She was once again knocked from her feet as she ran into the same man, wearing the same fox costume, still on the run. She tumbled backwards, dropping her laptop, screaming in both anger and frustration. To her surprise, both she and her computer were caught mid-fall by the furry.\n\n\"Sorry,\" he urgently muttered, getting her back on her feet and turning to run. She grabbed his arm and held him.\n\n\"Wait, what's the hurry?\"\n\n\"That guard wants my head on his wall, I gotta go!\"\n\nSure enough, the guard turned the corner, and was scanning the hallway. She pulled him aside into the restroom, and watched as the guard passed by.\n\n\"That guard insists that you're trespassing,\" Belle scolded.\n\n\"I... look. This isn't me,\" he responded, motioning to himself.\n\n\"No shit, I don't need to be a physicist to see that.\"\n\n\"No, I mean I'm supposed to be at the physics conference, but some lunatic hag convinced me to put this on, and now the zipper's stuck; I think she locked it as a joke, but I can't tell. I can't go home looking like this, my parents will get the wrong idea! Thanks for the help, but I've gotta find that witch again, hope that she'll unlock it.\"\n\nHe brushed past her and left.\n\n--\n\nThe next day, she returned with a pair of scissors, on the (likely) chance she would be knocked from her feet again. However, she couldn't find the man in suit anywhere. The whole day, she wondered where he could be; she went from room to room to visit different speakers, and even went to the shared food court for lunch, but found no trace of him. It was highly unlikely that a fox on the run wouldn't pass by her again. Just as she got up, she saw him brush past, barreling over tables to get away. She looked over her shoulder and didn't find the guard. Thinking it safe, she stood, only to get knocked over by Gaston.\n\n\"You know,\" she began, pushing him off. \"I'm starting to think you're doing this on purpose.\"\n\n\"You'd protect those freaks?\" Gaston inquired, sneering as he stood, brushing himself off. \"You know, I've read a paper on psychology that says that people who have to dress up as animals are sick in the head. Wanna catch a drink later?\"\n\n\"You know,\" Belle retorted. \"I had a word with him yesterday, he says his zipper just got stuck, and he can't leave looking like that.\"\n\n\"Not my job to care.\" He took off after the man, soon rounding the corner and going out of sight. Moments later, the man in fox costume strolled up to her casually.\n\n\"You'd defend me?\" he inquired, taking a seat.\n\n\"Why not? We're all people, after all.\"\n\n\"Heh, sure.\"\n\n\"Oh, that reminds me!\" Belle withdrew her scissors. \"I've got a fix.\"\n\n\"I already tried, but be my guest. Probably kevlar or something, I can't seem to cut it.\"\n\nSure enough, the scissors failed.\n\n\"As long as I'm around, I don't think the guard will harass you.\"\n\n\"You'd be caught hanging around me?\"\n\n\"Sure, if you're in for the physics convention, you must be either a physicist or an enthusiast. I just happen to be in for the same convention.\"\n\n\"Really? Oh, that's fantastic! Could you fill me in on Korsikov's lecture on optics?\"\n\n\"Sure thing.\"\n\n--\n\n\"You know, if you want, you can spend the night at my place,\" Belle offered. \"You seem nice enough.\"\n\n\"That sounds... nice. I don't think anyone ever even dreamed of helping me out, not since I look like this.\"\n\nThey approached the escalator, before they heard a shout from behind them.\n\n\"Stop right there!\"\n\nBelle and the stranger turned around to find a taser pointed at them.\n\n\"You can't hit a taser from this range, put it down before you hurt someone!\" Belle shouted, getting in the way.\"\n\nThe guard ran towards them, shouting obscenities.\n\n\"Look out!\" the stranger shouted, once it was evident that Gaston wouldn't stop, Belle in the way or no. He pushed Belle down, and was promptly tackled by the guard; they tumbled down the up escalator senselessly, losing all sense of direction. Gaston fired his taser; one lead hit the stranger in his back, and the second stuck in the escalator's lower rail. The spontaneous shock both seared the man's costume, and knocked Gaston unconscious.\n\nThe stranger grabbed at the escalator's handguard, and managed to stop tumbling. He rode it back up to Belle.\n\n\"Well, that was a fiasco,\" he muttered, accepting her hug.\n\nBelle sniffed at the air.\n\n\"What the hell is that smell?\"\n\nThe stranger looked around to find that his suit was slightly on fire.\n\n\"Oh shit!\" he shouted, quickly tearing at it. The plastic melted, revealing his true form: golden locks, piercing blue eyes, and the most sculpted jaw that Belle had ever seen. He was wearing a very professional suit, and although he was damp from sweat, she thought he looked gorgeous.\n\n\"My God, you're handsome,\" Belle stuttered, running a hand down his chest.\n\n\"So, is that offer to stay at your place still valid?\"\n\nShe nodded furiously.\n\n\"Well then, we'd best get going. It's getting dark out.\"\n\nThey took the down escalator, all the while staring at the still tumbling guard.\n\n\"Do you think we should help him?\" Belle inquired.\n\n\"Him? Nah, fuck that guy.\" The stranger checked his watch. \"You know, there's an amazing steak place near here, if you'd accompany me for dinner.\"\n\n\"I'd love to.\" She paused for a second, staring into the distance. \"Say, you never told me your name.\"\n\n\"Prince,\" the stranger responded, holding out his hand; she shook it.\n\n\"Belle.\"\n\nAs they exited, the sun moments from setting, the last rays of light illuminated the still tumbling Gaston." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: Everyone knew that soulmates existed. That special person whom you would bond with the moment your eyes met. But when you, the warrior hero, locked eyes with your enemy across the battlefield, it was still a shock to find yours." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“As certain as the morning sun rises, you are my soulmate.”\n\nThe young angel had been told that so many times, it kept him going through the worst of battles, through all his fears and worries. He believed it with every fibre of his being. It was his reason to keep fighting the demons of Hell, even through all of his doubts.\n\nSo why?\n\nThe angel was left beating his wings, eyes wide. His gaze met that of the demon’s strongest warrior, the beast that had cut down at least four of his brethren by now.\n\n“As certain as the morning sun rises...”\n\nThe othes had told the young angel about soulmates. They had told him of the rush of joy and peace and love that would fill the spirit the moment you met eyes with the one who’s soul was made to be by yours. Even through death, into each new life, you could find each other.\n\nSo why had the angel’s beloved lied? Why, as he stared down this demon fighting in the form of a hulking black panther, bigger and more ferocious than possible in nature, did he feel so immensely comfortable, drawn in, peaceful? Why did his heart beat in his chest like it wanted to burst free.\n\n“Ah!” He was ripped from his thoughts as the archangel Michael dove from flight and struck a blow through the beasts side.\n\nThe young angel panicked. He had just found his soulmate, and demon or not, he wasn’t going to let himself lose that person now.\n\nHe flew forward, taking a harsh blow from Michael in the demons stead. “What do you think you’re doing!?”\n\n“Only father knows.” Was all he could reply as he strained to lift the demon, and flew as hard and fast as he could, away from the battle and the bloodshed, and away from Michael’s angry cries of betrayal and blasphemy.\n\nThe demon’s form shifted, into that of a man, visually the same age as the angel, but that meant nothing when their lives were impossibly long.\n\n“I serve Lord Satan. If you could... take me to a friend of mine, near the castle, I would appreciate it.”\n\n“Of course. Just point out the way... gh...”\n\n“He’s a healer.” The demon assured. “He can patch your wounds too.”\n\nThe flight was mostly silent as the angel strained to keep going, but the rush of adrenaline and joy and confusion all at once kept him going, kept him looking forward.\n\n“Did you feel that too!?” He blurted out, as the demon admired Hell from above for the first time in his life.\n\n“I... I did. And I appreciate you saving me because of it. Even going against your kind...”\n\n“I don’t even want to think about what I’ve just done, just... what’s your name?”\n\n“Salius.”\n\n“The Salius! Whoa!” He almost dropped him, so shifted Salius and held him a little bit tighter. “You’re Satan’s attendant!”\n\n“Unfortunately...” he murmured. “And your name... soulmate?”\n\nThe words made the angel shudder. So the demon had felt it too. The doubt left his mind and all he was left with was peace. He smiled, wide and kind.\n\n“My name is Lucifer. It’s nice to meet you.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You receive a letter in the mail: \"a product recall has been issued for models number A1005 to A1055. Please be at this address by Sunday.\"You go to find, to your surprise, fifty some people who look just like you." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I looked at the letter. \"It must be talking about my car.\" I thought. I had bought this car about 3 months ago and just my luck, it was getting recalled. I guess something about the positronic inhibitor was faulty. I figured that I should show up.\n\nMy roommate walked in. \"Hey.\" I said \"Hey.\" he said. I moved in with him also about 3 months ago. When I arrived he joked around and said that I must be starting completely fresh. New job, car, apartment. His name was Matt. We were good friends, he was a bit bossy but I didn't mind as it was usually menial tasks that I enjoyed anyways.\n\n\"So Al, any mail?\" He asked\n\n\"You didn't have any but I got a weird recall letter.\" I said.\n\n\"Hmm, that's strange, you haven't got anything. Maybe it's your car.\" he said.\n\n\"I thought the same thing. I figure Ill go and see what it's all about.\" He looked at me inquisitively. \"Um..\" he stammered nervously \"I don't think I have anything going on sunday, I can go with.\" I agreed with him figuring that it would be better to have a friend.\n\nThat sunday we left for address on the letter. We pulled up to the gate. It was a huge mansion with no logo or anything. \"No logo seems bad for business.\" I say. Pulling up to a guard at the gate Matt speaks up. \"Just let me handle this.\" Curiously I lean back and let him look through the driver side window.\n\n\"Hey Luke, just protocol, can I see your ID?\"\n\n\"Sure.\" Matt says.\n\nWhen he gets his ID back and the gates open up, I turn and say \"That was weird. Do you have a twin brother or something?\" We both laugh awkwardly. The drive up the long driveway is in an even more awkward silence.\n\nWhen we walk in I see a ton of people standing there. We walk up to the front desk and I start to speak.\n\n\"Hi miss, we got a recall letter?\"\n\n\"Here you go Luke, they will be addressing everyone shortly about the error. This is a free upgrade to the next model.\" She hands the coupon to Matt.\n\nI lean over and say \"Whats up with everyone calling you Luke?\"\n\nHe stays silent as we walk into the inner room. I stand in shock.\n\nTons of people standing next to... me. I turn towards Matt.\n\n\"Matt, what's going on?\" I ask.\n\n\"My name isn't Matt, its Luke. When you arrived at my apartment you asked what to call me and even though I said master you misheard me and started calling me Matt.\" He said in an annoyed tone.\n\n\"why would you...\" It dawned on me.\n\nJust then someone approached the crowd. \"We're really sorry about inconveniencing everyone here. Your AI units all have a fault that we discovered in their brain mapping systems. The error will be fixed, but will render these robot's essentially useless. We would be more than happy to issue you our newest line of robots, who just like our last models come with an optional back story. Just order your robots through the door and you may take your new ones home today. They will be available just outside.\"\n\nI looked at Matt in horror. He looked at me and said coldly \"Unit I order you to walk through that door.\" My body started to walk forward, I couldn't stop. I was the last to walk through. The door quickly shut behind me. Two technicians walked around to each robot and unscrewed a piece in their ear and hit a button.\n\n\"Jeeze Joe, can you believe it? Sentience from a stinkin' robot!\"\n\n\"Yeah, but it's better this way. Remember we don't want no uprising, not like in that factory.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: There is a hyperspace train that takes people from planet to planet. Strangely you cannot die in this train, making you immortal. Your job is to evict those people who live in the train seeking immortality." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ten years, for ten years I'd been on the 6th Green Pacific Galactic Express. 12 stops, 12 galaxies, 12 new chances for humanity to spread. The hyperspace trains were the greatest invention of the last thousand years allowing us to colonize neighboring galaxies and expand our populations.\n\nHowever the trains were not without their pitfalls. My job was to deal with one such pitfall. When being introduced to guests by the Captain I was generally introduced as a conductor. Guests simply thought they were simply meeting another simple worker. Someone that labored for the success of the train.\n\nAny guest that was introduced to me was already labeled as a potential problem rider. Potential forever riders, as we would call them. For some reason the hyperspace loop prevented the death of anyone who was traveling in it, preserving the body and mind in a weird state of function. You could still be forcibly killed but beyond that if you kept riding, then you kept living.\n\nImmortality, it made people do funny things. Even with all the hope and promise offered by the opportunity to travel to different planets and galaxies some people were still chained by that fear of death. That was the one thing that they did not want to experience. Understandable, accepting death has always been difficult. Some said it was made moreso once people started being more exposed to the vast nothing of space because as empty as it was, death was probably even worse.\n\nDidn't matter to me. My job was simple, make sure everyone got off at their stop. Forever riders were not allowed. We kept a pretty close eye on any flagged riders. They would often walk around oddly, trying to look for places to disappear to. The trains were huge and did offer a lot of hiding spots but eventually you kind of start to know all the spots. Crevies where people would try to tuck themselves away.\n\nToday I was tracking a pretty simple one. This guy had been monitored since day one. He was a middle aged man, with greying hair, glasses, nothing really interesting about him. The system flagged him because of the amount of money he spent versus the amount of money he had. It didn't seem sustainable for him to travel somewhere and start a new life. It wasn't really our business if he had setup a side deal somewhere but we needed to make sure that he actually got off first. Too many times people would spend all their money on the hopes that they could make the train their permanent home.\n\nThis guy had managed to make his way into the lower vents. I went in after him. These maintenance areas had been left over after construction. There were a lot of places to go but most of them were sealed off. There were some fresh tracks in the dust, it was an easy trail to follow. Most of the time they thought they were really clever when they came down here.\n\nFollowing the path I ended up pretty deep into the bowels of the train. That's when I saw the loose panel. Somehow this guy had managed to move one of the sealed areas. A panel that I thought was secure. I needed to act fast. By the time I dropped down I started to hear screaming and I knew it was going to be too late.\n\nI drew my weapon and headed down towards the sounds of screaming. We were too far down for anyone to hear. When I got there I found the passenger and I also found the person attacking him. The passenger was desperately trying to fight the person off. They were savagely biting at him tearing at his skin. They looked ragged, their hair was wild, when I shined the light at them they let go of the passenger and roared at me as the light burned their eyes. The wild haired man retreated against the wall. In the light I could see that the chain was still affixed. The passenger had made the mistake of walking into his range.\n\nKeeping calm I slowly dragged the passenger away keeping my eyes on the man against the wall. He didn't even look like he recognized me. Ten years, the train could keep you alive but you still felt things. You still went hungry, you still got thirsty, it would drive any man mad.\n\nThe passenger was swiping at me and I slammed him against the floor hard. He was screaming from the lacerations. There only appeared to be bite marks on his face. The other injuries were bruises and cuts. I could explain those easily enough, he was traveling through the dark. He was sobbing now.\n\n\"Get up,\" I told him leading him back to the surface.\n\nHe nodded and got up. Eager to get away from the person that had attacked him. As we got back up I affixed the panel back into place. I was going to have to reseal it later on.\n\n\"Who the hell was that?\" the passenger asked me he was sitting against the wall. He was still bleeding from the bite marks.\n\nI didn't really feel the need to answer him. Of course he would understand because we were both after the same thing but I couldn't trust him. He barely had time to react when I raised my weapon. One clean shot but it was a messy weapon. The damage would mean that no one would see the bite marks on the face. It was a necessary step. Once I dragged the body upstairs I could say he struggled, jumped me in the dark and I had to react.\n\nMy first year or second year I would have been worried. An investigation might show them that I wasn't the name on the ID, that the original name and face actually matched the man who was chained in the bowels of the train. After ten years though, after ten years everyone trusted me. My documents all matched now, no one was any the wiser. I was good at finding the people who wanted to live forever, I was very understanding of their situation." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: The demon couldn't believe their luck to find such a willing victim to possess. However, instead of resisting like they usually do, this one said \"Good luck. You'll need it.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She surrendered herself to me so easily.\n\nFor millennia, I had roamed the nether. I am ashamed to admit that I was not particularly esteemed amongst my demonic brethren. Whereas they had influenced some of humanity’s heinous and most capable transgressors, I was little more than an unruly poltergeist in a few homes.\n\nWhat worth as a demon did I have? I pondered on how I could make myself known in the underworld. It needed to be something easy and in the grand scheme of things, not take a lot of time. My forefathers had told me of how wicked (and impressive) it was to turn an ordinary person - someone well respected and loved - into a malevolent creature only superficially resembling a human being. I pondered techniques I could do that were within my power as a low-ranking demon, and then it came to me.\n\nPossession - commandeering a meat puppet in the overworld - is how I would do it. It was difficult to find a victim at first. I did as the forefathers instructed and attempted to take over several priests, parishioners, choir members, and anyone who had any business being in a church. I failed every time. Then I went for those who were unsure of their religious conviction, but I failed again as they still associated with people who were pious and recognized demonic possession.\n\nI was beginning to lose faith in my quest. That is, until I saw Catherine. This dull, pathetic soul gliding along life, barely keeping her head in the light, would be the perfect victim. She lived alone as far as I could tell, so this possession would go without a hitch.\n\nAt the stroke of midnight, I appeared in her abode. Catherine stood by her stove with an immovable glare at a pot. She did not even give me a glance. This was clearly an affront to my presence and she needed to know her place. I flooded the kitchen with a scarlet light and a wretched, fetid stink, but instead of breaking down in a screaming fit, she let out a curt sigh.\n\n“What do you want,” she interrogated, “I’m trying to make some ramen and you’re fucking up my appetite.” This insect was a little more stubborn than I took her for, but I would be controlling the conversation real soon.\n\n“Your life is now forfeit. I, Abbado, will take over your body to use as a vessel and spread the hellish decrees of the Prince of Darkness.”\n\nShe said nothing for what seemed like an eternity, only staring at me with a blank expression. I assumed she was concocting a plea in her head for me to spare her grim fate. Unbeknownst to her, it was already set in stone, but I figured I would entertain her a bit before sentencing her soul.\n\nCatherine leaned against the fridge and simply uttered “Do it then.” I was puzzled. The forefathers had never told me what to do with victims who were willing to undergo the possession. She had to be bluffing. I walked closer to her, steadily shifting my presence to be even more beastly and disgusting.\n\n“As long as I control that worthless meat sack of yours, you will be powerless to stop whatever actions I may do. Everyone you know, your family, your friends, they will all come to hate you.”\n\n“Parents, dead. Friends, don’t really have any. I guess there’s.. actually nah, she’s kind of a bitch to me.”\n\n“What are you saying… ahem, mortal?”\n\n“Dude, I am so fucking tired. Rent’s overdue, I’ve been having sleep for dinner these past few days, and now some other place I applied to wants me to work without pay for a few days to ‘test the waters’ or some bullshit. I’m pretty sure that’s not even legal but who the fuck do I complain to for that? I just.. need a breather and if you take the wheel for a bit, be my guest.”\n\nThe forefathers had not prepared me for someone who was willing to be possessed by a demon. As she spoke, I felt a lump form in my bird-like throat. What was this unpleasant feeling gestating in my core? She continued as she walked through her home.\n\n“Everyday, I come to this dusty, musty, tiny crap hole that I’m being charged fifteen hundred for a month. I have no time for hobbies and when I finally get some free time, it’s to catch up on sleep. No one ever asks me how my day is, no one asks me if I’m okay or need help! It’s like people don’t notice me half the time! My coworkers confuse me with the only other blonde girl who works there!” I saw her tear up and I suddenly felt nauseous.\n\nShe let out a chuckle as she wiped away at her face, and looked up at my one of my many eyes. “Do demons get tired?”\n\n“Not really.” I answered, trying to keep a professional demeanor.\n\n“Do you get hungry?”\n\n“N-no.” My sagacity was beginning to falter.\n\n“Then please, Mr. Aba- uhhh, Demon, haha. Take me away.”\n\nI closed my eyes as my physical form reduced itself to a simple cloud. I enveloped Catherine’s being entirely; she stood there with her eyes closed and a relaxed smile on her face before her conscience was put to rest. And then, I was her.\n\nI stood in the middle of her home and observed just how she had been living the past few years. A sullen, barren apartment with almost no furniture or decorations.\n\nI looked at my hands and curled my fingers. An awful sensation like no other coursed through the fibers of my being - Catherine’s pain.\n\nPossession was temporary, the forefathers said, and only ended once demons were bored or the vessel was destroyed by an angry mob.\n\nThat was NOT going to happen.\n\nI did not want her to come back to this life full of hardship and misery.\n\nI will build a new life for her." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You are a villain famous for “killing” heroes. In reality, heroes come to you to fake their deaths." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "If there’s one thing in this life that I’ve learned how to do well, it is the art of disappearing. Some could say that I’ve built quite the reputation for it. Even if the commonly alleged concept of my arts were incriminating and, frankly, horrid. They were the burden I was to bear for choosing this pathway in life.\n\nAs a child, I seldom had a home for long. It was always here and there for a while, going back yonder for some time, then finding somewhere new again. We never stayed anywhere for more than a minute, which conveniently provided me with my swift ability to\n\nadapt to different regions of the world. Truly, it was an art. One simply did not wake up one day and know what I knew. They had to work it, had to be the face of all the unpleasant and, frankly, disgusting \"truths.\"\n\nYet, there was a light hidden behind the nefarious exterior. An actual truth that would send the public reeling if they knew that each of my ‘victims’, quite literally, freely roamed about among them. Tired of their past and unwilling to go on within it. They severed themselves from it, making a choice to move on - with my assistance.\n\nNot many recognize the feeling of burden that comes with great achievements. Everyone expects their heroes to always be heroes. They expect that in a moment’s notice they will put their lives aside and always come to the rescue - in the nick of time! It was a tiresome existence, although far from thankless, and I was the one The Greats turned to when they reached their finish lines.\n\nI then create their finale - their public exit. Often theatrical, emotional, and perhaps a bit costly to some public spaces. However, there were often very few injured, never an extra death involved, and after that…\n\n… their next race could begin. It’s just one of those things, one cannot push the boundaries of reality too much, or there could be a higher risk for failure. Alas, my track record remains quite stellar, hence the villainous representation that comes with uttering my very name. Such power in only a name. A name considered to be so heinous, to all those that would never understand.\n\nI knew few that would dare to mention me in prim circumstances. I had “caused so much pain to society”, while offering the greatest happiness to the numerous lost heroes and their kin. A fair judgment, I suppose, to offer happiness to those who did the most for the world when the world needed them most.\n\nPerhaps a strange perspective I have to come from. The world could suspect that the foul rumors of torture and gruesome tragedies were viable truths. Yet, not a single of those strangers could also declare they knew who I was, nor recount my story. They could cast their judgements, needing that person to blame, when all things went tits up. And, that’s just fine.\n\nI found solace in harboring that weight. At least the greatest of them all could live out their days how they wanted to.\n\n“All I ever wanted was to make those around me safe. I wanted them to live soundly and without fear of that rotten soul around the corner. We never anticipate our age, though. We expect to feel great our entire lives, to be able to hold the world on our shoulders forever. Unfortunately, that’s not really how things work.” I recalled one great hero's last words to me, and they always stuck, always motivated me to continue my chosen path." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: - Each Fantasy Race sees themselves as Adventurers and Pioneers. But they each go in different directions, Humans long for the skies, Elves journey over the vast open surface, and Dwarves know in their hearts that the true mysteries lie deep below. Each faction thinks they are right." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "From our primal ancestors to our 19th century forefathers, it took centuries and many wars for each races to form a union, peace. Things had change, from using letters to using phones , from using swords and bows to a \"friendly\" conversation.\n\nInside the house's basement, a human, a dwarf, and an elf decided to have a friendly conversation.\n\n\"My father is a hero,\" The Human claims, \"He worked hard so that humanity can step more into space and to the unknown.\"\n\nThe Elf shakes their head, \"More like a fool, why waste our lives just to see vast emptiness when there is more to discover in our beautiful planet?\"\n\n\"Our ancestors had done that! We already had Grogle maps!\" The Dwarf intervenes, \"What's more mysterious are the lands below! There might be secret caves with undiscovered minerals right under us.\"\n\nThe three friends glare at one another, trying to intimidate one another.\n\n\"But what if there are more races that are waiting to be discovered?\" The Human says, \"Our technology could become more advance just like how our forefathers reunited and made the golden era of our people?\"\n\n\"You humans do love to colonize other races,\" The Elf scoffs, the Human looks away embarrassed and the Dwarf just snickers, \"We may know our planet but there is still more to learn from it, we will take advantage of our knowledge so no lives will go wasted unlike you two.\"\n\n\"Is this why you two are the most underdeveloped?\" The Dwarf asks with a mocking tone, \"The reason why we developed because of the minerals we gathered from below! Maybe there are minerals that are more stronger than gold but you two are busy with your fantasies of exploring something that is nothing.\"\n\nThe tension continues to rise as the three counters one another, trying to belittle ones claim and evidences. However, none wants to back down and if this continues, it might get messy.\n\n\"You three, settle down or I'll call mom.\"\n\nThe three freeze on their spot, silence finally overcomes the tension. By the stairs leading upstairs is the Human's elder sister, clear annoyance is written on her face.\n\n\"You think you could answer something that our grandparents could not answer?\" The elder sister hisses, \"I know this is just a mock debate, but it looks like you three are at each others' throat.\"\n\nThe three look down in defeat in unison, saying sorry to one another and almost losing their friendship to a mere topic.\n\n\"You three, what about talking about another topic other than that.\" The Elder Sister demands, the three nods and continue on their mock debate with a different topic. Hours pass and the two must go home, as they say their goodbyes and encouragement for the project tomorrow. The little Human turns to their elder as the guests are out of view.\n\n\"Tell me who is right?\" The Little Human beams, \"Humans are the greatest adventurers right? In space, we could reach even more than what we have here.\"\n\nThe Elder sister just shakes her head, \"No one is right.\"\n\n\"Huh? Why?\"\n\n\"Our pride runs deep into our veins, but you know what runs deep as well? Our thirst of learning more, to explore,\" She answers as if such answer is already embedded on her mind , \"No matter how we fight, in the end, there is no right or wrong answer, only an answer.\"\n\n\"Children! Dinner is ready!\"\n\nThe sister runs to the kitchen, ready to eat dinner. While the little human stays on the same spot as before, their ego bruised.\n\n(This is a try, English is not my first language so it might not make sense)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: The Norse Gods are playing Dungeons and Dragons, and Loki is the Dungeon Master." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Loki consulted the parchment in front of him. \"You enter the room and praise the Gods! There is a clear fountain of water in the-\"\n\n\"Why are we praising ourselves?\" interrupted Forseti. \"Not all of us are as desperate for attention as Freya over here.\"\n\nFreya didn't look up from her mirror as she retorted \"At least SOMEONE here is concerned about their appearance! Tyr isn't even trying to cover up that disgusting stump!\"\n\n\"Chicks dig scars, said Tyr, carefully examining his pewter figurine. \"Loki, did you even try to make these accurate? My biceps are at least eight times bigger than this.\"\n\n\"ODIN PRAISES NO MAN\" roared Odin from the head of the table, \"EXCEPT THIS TIME ODIN IS PRAISING HIMSELF, SO ODIN WILL GRACIOUSLY ALLOW IT\"\n\n\"I'm bored already,\" said Thor. \"When do I get to kill something?\"\n\n\"Everyone shut up!\" yelled Loki. \"Fine. Turns out the fountain was poison, and there are twenty Jotuns hidden behind an altar!\"\n\nThor scoffed. \"Only twenty? I kill twenty thousand when I think too hard.\"\n\n\"You think?\" muttered Loki mockingly from the end of the table.\n\n\"I heard that!\" said Thor.\n\n\"Please everyone, settle down, said Frigg soothingly. \"Loki wanted all of us to play his game with him as a family, so we're all going to be respectful to him. Thor, remember how well-behaved Loki was at all of your hammer recitals?\"\n\n\"It's not a game, it's a tactical adventure of cunning and deception!\" whined Loki. \"And it wasn't hard to sit through his recitals when he was the only one competing!\"\n\nFrigg shot him a death glare. \"All the same, we need to spend more time as a family. Your father doesn't get to spend very much time at home-\" \"MORTAL POON AINT GONNA FUCK ITSELF\" yelled Odin- \"and we should treasure the time we have together.\" finished Frigg, without skipping a beat.\n\nMeanwhile Balder had rolled the die and had turned to Loki for his fate. \"Ooh, a two, tough luck-you failed your saving throw.\" Loki consulted the parchment. \"You die when a party member betrays you and pierces your heart with a dart of mistletoe!...that's...oddly specific...\"\n\n\"I hit it with my hammer.\" said Thor.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"His wound. I hit it with my hammer.\"\n\n\"Thor, you've been saying that about every obstacle for the past two hours! Old crone asking for money? Hit her with a hammer. A magical jewel that can cure disease? Hit it with a hammer. A child separated from his parents? Hope you fought bravely on the battlefield and died a noble death kid, otherwise you're going straight to Hel.\"\n\nThor shrugged. \"Any sane mortal man would be honored to be murdered by Mjlonir in battle.\"\n\nLoki stood from his chair and threw the game board to the ground. \"I hate you! This is the worst family ever!\" He ran up to his room crying.\n\nJust then Bragi burst into the room, in full bard regalia, singing an ancient Nordic hymn while strumming his harp.\n\n\"If you want the mead, then bring the ruckus, cause Fenrir Wolf aint nothing to-\"\n\n\"Give it a rest, Fagi,\" said Thor, rolling his eyes. \"Well this was fun, but I have better things to do.\" He stood and left the room, followed by Freya, then Odin, then the others, until finally Bragi was left alone in the room. He sighed and glanced down at his jester costume, and poked sadly at one of the bells.\n\n\"And I worked so hard on these...\"\n\nEDIT: Thank you so much for the gold, kind stranger!" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: The Zombie Apocalypse has been going for at least a year when you find yourself cornered by a shambling undead. In a panic, you bite them, and the corpse slowly regains it's skin. It's flesh healing, until they breath in and look around before saying \"How the hell did you know that would work?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“I didn’t.”\n\nI watched carefully at the strange man in front of me. His clothes lay in tatters about him, almost comical. He had sustained a head wound, one that had laid him in his grave mere hours before the Apocalypse began. No one talked about it, but we’ll all knew it.\n\nHe raised a hand; I flinched slightly until I realize he was just scratching the wound as it began to heal, the scars and blood disappearing. I could swear what I saw was makeup, like a VFX prosthetic from a movie in the 2000s. But it wasn’t.\n\nThe mans skin did not have the pallor of death about it as it had a mere few minutes ago. I, for one, could not believe that it had worked. It was a split second decision. My life was on the line as he approached.\n\nDumbly, I was blindsided until I heard the low grumbling of a not quite sentient being. His hands extended towards me, his long brittle nails scratching at the air, the cuticles receded. My eyes had darted about. He was closing in. Slowly but surely. I had no weapon, not even a sharp stick or rock nearby.\n\nWhen I was a child, I was quite a biter myself. I bit everyone, save for it that hand held food. A hand holding food in a chain mail glove standing 5 feet away behind a blast shield. Yeah.\n\nI eventually did grow out of the behavior, mostly. If I was scared, I would shut my mouth quick and clamp my jaw tight. And here tonight, was one of those nights.\n\nI didn’t expect anything to happen. Maybe the slimy asshole would flee, or scream, or at least get distracted enough for me to escape. But it did something entirely contrary to my fundamental understanding of Zombies. They were, or perhaps are, corrupted humans who are technically dead to medical science but are alive in the most primitive capacity. They reflect the most primitive of urges in us, without even a voice. They made simple grunts, growls and groans. And this one had awakened those primal instincts in me.\n\nIn my jaws, I felt the stringy muscle and sinew become firm again. I let go when I heard a shriek of pain from the being, not the growl of a zombie but a real human scream. The pain receptors were the first to come online, again a part of our most primal programming.\n\nHe looked at me, at first angry, noting the chunk of flesh bitten from his arm. I spat it at the floor. But that piece of flesh did not matter as I watched his arm regenerate. And then reason hit him, higher brain function coming online now.\n\nHe began to sweat, falling from his half cocked position to a kneel. I heard his breath whoosh in and out, the first few breaths in years. That must have felt good.\n\nHis skin, once deathly white and purple and green, pinked and lightened. His face reddened was the rush of blood flooded his extremities. He doubled over, coughing and hacking. He spat. Blood.\n\n“How did you know that would work?”\n\nHe asked me again.\n\nI shook my head and shifted in place.\n\nHe looked at me, his eyes pleading. He marveled at the new skin of his hands. He touched the wound on his head as the skin grew anew. He scuttled off nearby and looked at his teeth in a shard of metal. The gums were pink and firm. The teeth didn’t rattle and regained their whiteness.\n\nHe looked back to me as if to ask me a question.\n\nI knew what he was wondering.\n\n“I was always a biter.”\n\nEdit: grammar" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: Write me a story that is going to make me miss my ex. Bring out all those feels, I dare you." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It had only been a few weeks from the breakup, and he still saw her face everywhere he went. How could he not? She already has part of his soul. She used to be his best friend, and the first real love. Like a dew-covered rose, she was beautiful, but still caused so much pain. They started dating back in sophomore year, and he could still remember how awkward they both were. A shy smile across the hall, and a few laughs at a lame joke in the back of class. The love was young and sweet, but still unspoken. Summer nights just staring at those beautiful stars in the sky. He would lay back with his arm around her and she would put her head on his chest just wordlessly melting into each other. It was like a dream, eventually she would start to sleep with that cute little snoring she had. Sex was exciting but scary for both. They both had their on the beach, it wasn't romantic or anything like in the movies, but it was perfect. She said she loved him, but he never replied. Months past but the boy still couldn't say how he felt, trapped in his own head he thought of thousands of things to say, but nothing was right. She began to feel rejected, and drifted away. He hated himself, he hated everything, he hated her.\n\nJunior year began and they began to see other people. They stayed friends and began to spend more time with each other. He tried to keep her out of his life, but he just couldn't. Her tan skin was so perfect and so smooth, her eyes were like sweet chocolate. She was flirty and tough. A girl who would speak her mind and say \"fuck the world\". He was drawn into her. Each time she broke up he wanted to go over and just say he loved her....but he couldn't. So he was always there for her. Any time she was sad or hurt, he was there to take the pain away. She showed off new boyfriends to him, and each time he would say he would be happy for her. Even though each time it ate away at his heart to see her with anybody but him. Other girls kept his time, but nobody was like her.\n\nSenior year began, the boy finally gained some courage, it was now or never. He stopped by her house, knocked on her door. She opened, slightly surprised. He didn't give her a second to speak. A single kiss, but so perfect. He looked right into her eyes and said \"I love you, I've always loved you.\" She just started to cry and said \"I know\". They just stood there holding each other wishing this moment would never end. They began to date again, this time for real. She worked at a frozen yogurt shop, and he spent countless nights staying there after hours with her when their friends left. They talked about the future, about life beyond Virginia Beach, the adventures of the unknown. They planned out there future together. It was perfect, until her family began to fall apart.\n\nOne night she came home and found her Dad sleeping with another women, she called the boy crying and asked him to pick her up. For an hour they sat in an empty parking lot under a dim light. She cried over what she was going to do, she was lost and afraid. He stayed there for her, but slowly he began to notice the girl drifting away as the weeks past. She was less intimate, less loving. She became cold and self abusive. She began to care less and less about him. He was still there for her, but he was being slowly replaced with alcohol and drugs. She showed up to class wasted, and was constantly hung over. Her beautiful arms soon became scared with track-marks. The boy saw the girl he loved destroying herself, but whatever he said was ignored. Fights with parents happened every other day. The boy started to see a monster start to form, and he began to hurt too. The final push was a party at the end winter break. He walked in on her having sex with a friend. She refused to talk to him that night, and his anger began to boil up more and more as the hours ticked away. Filled with rage, he finally confronted her the next day. He shouted at her, calling her a worthless slut who nobody loved. He punched a hole through a door, and almost broke his knuckles. He didn't care, how could she turn her back on him after he tried to be there for her? She didn't say anything, just sat there with her head down and slightly began to cry. He calmed down. His mind went back to the girl he met the first day of class. The girl he loved, but she didn't exist anymore. He sat down next to her, and she just looked at him with those milk-chocolate eyes. She said \"I love you, I've always loved you\". He then began to cry, knowing that nothing could take them back to the innocence of when they first met, and said \"I know\"." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Welcome to Vault 54! A vault located in the beautiful Hollywood U.S.A. Its residents are award winning actors. The experiment? Each resident is assigned a character role for 5 year periods. If they break character they die. The vault's ultimate purpose is to study the concept of identity." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "These halls would be haunting but I never knew those who walked them. I knew personas. I knew corpses before they were dead.\n\nBut what is it to die? When I was young I thought it was a big sleep. When I was twenty I thought it was to stop living. Now I know that it is to lose your identity. To walk someone else's path because yours has ended.\n\nWe all got along well at first. That's what killed off the first of us. Vault-Tech didn't want a go-lucky bunch. They wanted real people.\n\nSo we became those people.\n\nI was born Fiona Jenkins. I grew up poor until I made it big, won some awards, and then retired to my family. For Vault-Tech, I was many people. My first was Bianca, no last name, and I was the mystery. I had to make sure no one knew what to make of me. In a way, that helped me handle the first batch of deaths, since I wasn't yet close to anyone.\n\nThen I became Janet Daley, a sprightly and unstable woman who loved everyone. People were distant from me, so that softened the second batch of deaths. But when you keep telling yourself that these are all your friends, the lines between character and reality become skewed. I felt that they were my friends.\n\nI was lucky that my next character was supposed to be sad all the time. Fiona Jenkins became sad a lot. It wasn't that hard to be Karen Lawson, depressed writer. I was never a writer. But I became Karen, and Karen could write. I wrote eulogies for the third batch of deaths.\n\nFinally, I was V. There were 26 of us left. We were all given letters of the alphabet, and our defining trait had to start with our assigned letter. It gave us some freedom in our waning numbers. Finally we could find a way to be a little true to ourselves.\n\nThe rules changed for that period. There was no more dynamism to our lives. You lived your definition. I lived being vivacious.\n\nThey picked us off, one by one. Completely and totally unwavering commitment to your character was paramount to this period. Z couldn't be normal. Z always had to be zany. He was the first to go.\n\nToday I went inside the restricted area. It was full of empty chairs and inactive terminals. There was no sign of life. Perhaps with only one specimen still alive, they abandoned us.\n\nOne active terminal remained. It contained all of our files. I passed hundreds of names to which I couldn't match any faces. All of these years, and I never really knew anyone.\n\nFiona Jenkins feels so far off now. Some of her memories are still there, but she feels like another character. Was she even real?\n\nThe terminal also had the research notes from this whole thing. I realized early on that this had to be some sort of experiment. I skimmed through, but the conclusion said something along the lines of identity being malleable, changing to fit the needs of the moment. It said it's forgettable, so long as there's something to replace it with.\n\nThis is the last page of Karen's journal. I'd've thought that I'd be killed for writing in it as V, but nothing happened. I realize I never became V, she was a true act. I suppose those awards weren't in vain.\n\nI've checked the laundry room. Tons of Abraxo cleaner left. If you're reading this, don't go in there. It won't smell very good." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: You come from a prestigious family of mages, despite this you struggle with even the most basic warding spells. After a fight with your family, you've just about given up on trying to be a mage until your shadow starts talking to you..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Power, it is at the center of everything. It controls everything. The weak crave it or condemn it and all who possess it without fail will be corrupted by it.\n\nI've always fantasized about being strong. I wanted to be able to tell all those who spat on me exactly what I thought of them. I wanted to never be at anyone's mercy ever again. But I wasn't. I was weak and would always be weak. Or so I thought.\n\nI was at my family home. Both my siblings were prodigies , of course what else was to be expected of current generation of the famous skandar bloodline.\n\nWe had been mages since the early days. Since dragons flew through the skies and magic was abundant in everything from the clouds above to the very earth beneath our feet. But those days are long gone. What few dragons remain are in hiding and the natural resource of magic in the earth has been drained all but dry.\n\nBut who am I? The answer is nobody. The third child, the black sheep, whichever you prefer. My name is Joseph Skandar and this is my story.\n\nIt began on a day just like the many before. A day in which I was feverishly practicing my magecraft in the family library. My family had long since ceased my formal training as the longer I trained the more apparent my lack of skill became. I was unable to cast the most basic of spells or hex.\n\nI was not discouraged. I kept training myself. Kept researching, kept learning. Despite that I never improved. After a while my family dropped even the pretense of encouragement. They kept me around solely out of a desire to keep up their image as loving parents who didn't care if I was skilled or not. But that would soon be coming to an end.\n\nI was 16 going on 17. That meant I had just over a year until they could completely denounce me without sullying their reputation In the slightest.\n\nI continued \"training\" until one of the house's servants came to the library.\n\n\"You're family is preparing to eat dinner. You are expected to be present.\"\n\n\"Understood\"\n\nI said dispassionately as I marked the place in the text I was reading concerning the application of alchemy.\n\nSurprisingly when I reached the table I found that both my brothers were also present. This was surprising because both of them had moved out quite some time ago. First was Robert. He was the second youngest after myself. He was 19 and his proficiency lay in his conjuration. He could summon both living and non living things using his magical energy as a catalyst to form his constructs.\n\nSecondly was Julius. He was the oldest at 24. He was a prodigy in elemental magic and alchemy.\n\nNo one greeted me as I sat down. Dinner was served and we all began to eat. Robert was the first to speak.\n\n\"So Joseph how has your training been going?\"\n\nHe said it in a tone so wrought with sarcasm his words were practically dripping with it. He had been the first mock my lack of skills when my training started. He had been the youngest until I was born and seemed to prove something by belittling me.\n\nMy teeth clenched but I said nothing.\n\n\"Aw what's wrong still having trouble?\"\n\nHe said with mock sympathy.\n\n\"What a shame.\"\n\nMy jaw clenched even tighter.\n\n\"I mean how worthless can you be?\"\n\nI knew I was nearing my breaking point but there was nothing I could do. If I left I would only face repercussions for it later. So I stayed quiet. But he didn't stop.\n\n\"Honestly you're just a disappointment I don't think I could live If I were that much of a failure.\"\n\nThat did it I knew I shouldn't say anything that nothing good could come of it but all I saw was red and I couldn't help myself.\n\n\"SHUT THE FUCK UP FOR ONCE IN YOUR FUCKING LIFE!\" I screamed.\n\n\"ALL YOU DO IS BELITLE AND INSULT AND YOU ONLY DO IT BECAUSE YOU KNOW IM NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO STOP YOU! YOU TALK DOWN TO ME AS IF YOU'RE SO FUCKING GREAT BUT WE BOTH KNOW YOU ONLY DO IT BECAUSE YOU'RE TO PATHETICALLY IMMATURE TO SHOW ANY RESPECT TO ANYONE WHO DOESN'T SCARE UT OUT OF YOU!\"\n\nI felt a sharp pain by the side of my face. I reached up and touched it and my hand came back red. Julius was on his feet and had cut and inch beneath my eye with a razor sharp gust of wind.\n\n\"Be silent you're only embarrassing yourself,\" he said in a neutral tone.\n\nI stormed away from the table. No One stopped me from leaving. I was fuming.\n\n\"No one in this god damned family acknowledged me other than to degrade me. And I'm sick of it\" I thought to myself.\n\nI was angrier than I had ever been and I didn't know why. He had always treated my that way why was it now that I was this angry. I was in the library again. I threw the books on the table I had been sitting at onto the floor.\n\nSuddenly everything went dark. I was still concious but was as if the light to the universe itself had been turned off around me. Then I saw them.\n\nIt was me but it wasn't. They were a dark outline who looked similar to myself.\n\n\"Who…\" I started but they cut me off,\n\n\"I thought That would be obvious,\" they said in a voice that sounded similar to mine but deeper and somehow stronger,\n\n\"I am you. I am the part of you that has been locked away by your subconscious. I am your shadow and I can grant you the power you so desperately desire.\"\n\n\"How?\" I said my voice full of desperation\n\n\"You must sacrifice yourself to the shadows If you seek their power,\" he said.\n\nI remembered the story of Odin and how he gained knowledge over the runes. I moved my hand up to my eye.\n\nThen I plunged my fingers around my right eye and pulled it out. The pain was excruciating, like nothing I had felt even in the most vicious of my brothers beatings. But my adrenaline flowed, Dulling the pain somewhat. I then repeated the process with my other eye.\n\nFor a moment nothing happened then I felt it. Power. So much power. I could see it. I could see everything. I understood it all. A new understanding flowed through me. I understood the secrets that man was never meant to comprehend. It was overwhelming. This was it. This was what I had been craving my whole life and here it was right at my fingertips.\n\nEverything was about to change" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You've been bitten by a zombie. You can slowly feel yourself turning. The horde is bearing down on you. As it takes effect you notice something weird... The zombies around you start talking. You can understand them now." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I was 15 when the dead came to life, I lost my parents and some friends and now 5 years later the only home I have is on the road with my new family, we drive or walk as far as we can go and we don't stop unless we have to, at least that's what we used to do, Markus and ty my best friends since 7th grade they have been my family since this shit started and they are my ride or die family, they were tired , they wanted to sleep in a house instead of the back of a truck and if I'm honest, I was tired to- I wanted a safe place to go but that meant the risk of becoming dead, there was always a risk but finding a place that could be a home was the biggest risk we would take since we were 18, the year 2023- that year we lost a lot of people- it used to be a whole group- Markus, Ty, Ian, Alexis, Brooklynn, Mariah, and Zach - but that year everyone but Me, Markus and Ty died, we wanted a home a place to not be afraid but we got careless and they all died- I knew them all for so long and they were gone in a flash. We never stopped after that day, we put our friends in the school we used to go to so we would always know where they were, but around 2025 and we miss them every day- we decided to make a home near the school so we could stay close to our friends, but something horrible happened- I was building a wall around the house we planed to stay in and I got attacked, I didn't see the horde coming close and I got to careless, I got bit on my hand and I felt myself starting to turn- first I got a sick feeling in my stomach and then it got worse- I ran as fast as I could to my friends and I told them what happened- I wanted them to kill me or put me in the school and for them to run but they refused, they wanted to join me as a zombie but- I didn't want them to turn like me and our friends before us, they said it would be ok and that we could all live in the school together- I agreed and we walked in the school, there they were just like we left them years ago- they just stared at me and I stared back, I looked at Markus and ty and they said it would be ok- they weren't scared so I bit them, we walked to a window we used to look out every day durning school and we just stared at the horde- I felt at peace, I understood them for once in 5 years and I wasn't afraid anymore, I looked at Markus and ty and I told them it would be ok- I hugged them and when I let go I had turned, I wasn't the monster I had been running from for so long, I was just me but in a new form, I could talk with my friends threw my moans and they could talk back- I was happy to see my friends again, to talk to them, to tell them how I never gave up on them- We all still live in the school and its been 10 years, we live on the meat of animal and the occasional human that comes, and we are happy like this, we finally get to live the life we dreamed of when this all started, we get to be a family again." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Every person is born with a timer on their wrist that counts down to when the person meets their soulmate" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The world as it is doesn't bear much resemblance to the old world. In the old days fear and pain ran rampant and, as it turns out, a lot of that was because people were afraid of no one understanding them. Afraid that when the light finally went out of their lives they'd be alone. After the introduction of the finders things started to change. It didn't happen all at once, it was slow, gradual, as all the truly long-term changes are. But a day came when most of the world, and most people, were at peace.\n\nIn all the years since their introduction, the finders have never been wrong. Sometimes the countdown is hilariously short, the shortest on record being five years and three days, and some were long, one man had to wait seventy years to find his love, but they never lied. Everyone found someone who could truly understand who they were.\n\nWhich made Deacon all the more disconcerting. His finder wasn't a countdown at all. It showed nothing. No digits, no lights, nothing. It had been checked and checked again, but there was nothing wrong with the finder.\n\nHis parents were terribly worried, what did this mean? Was he doomed to be alone? Or did he not need anyone? No one was sure what it meant, and for the first time in a long time people felt the bite of an old, old companion, fear.\n\nHowever, time passed, as it does, and people got used to Deacon's empty finder. He was a happy child and didn't seem concerned at all about the finder's emptiness. His happiness didn't abate even when he hit his teenage years, when everyone is continually upset at some triviality or other. Everyone agreed that Deacon was the nicest person around.\n\nThe years continued to pass and Deacon grew into a man. He found a job he liked, architecture maintenance, and settled down with a pleasant apartment. He never showed much interest in romance, but always had plenty of friends.\n\nEventually, Deacon became an old man. He still loved to smile and laugh with his friends and never tired of meeting new people. One day news reached him of a strange event, a child had been born with an empty finder. When he heard about the birth, he smiled, nodded, and said, \"About time.\"\n\nHis friends asked him about that, but he just shook his head and made a joke. Deacon's comment was soon forgotten and another peaceful day came and went.\n\nAs old men do, Deacon began to die, and on one of his last days the other empty finder came to visit him, a little girl named Margaret. He greeted Margaret with a smile, as he always did, and quickly made a friend of her. It wasn't a long friendship, as Deacon was old and dying, but Margaret seemed happy to meet him, and wasn't very upset when he died. She went to his funeral in a black dress, but didn't cry, she smiled. \"Deacon was a friend\", she'd say, \"And he loved to smile, so we should smile too.\" She was a happy child, and not at all concerned about her friend's death.\n\nShe was the second child born with an empty finder, but not the last." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You are a successful bounty hunter in the Wild West during the early 1800's. While you are unskilled with firearms and other basic means of combat, you have one thing other bounty hunters do not have. Mastery over the use of a trident." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The desert was a vast and terrible place. The sand got into places only darkness had seen and took up a permanent residence there no matter how many times you bathed. Even the vultures were loathe to frequent this part of the world. It was no wonder why my quarry chose this spot above the others. He was smart and it kept him alive.\n\nThey called him the Snake of the East and was every bit as dangerous as the pit vipers that hid in the sands at your feet. Whether or not he was truly from the east was a matter of debate, but it was irrelevant to my hunt either way. What mattered to me was what he'd done and what I was going to do once I found him.\n\nHe didn't make it difficult. Instead of holing up somewhere, I found the Snake in plain sight with a fire burning nearby, sitting like he were waiting for me. I sat across from him and watched while he stared into the fire.\n\n\"Knew you'd come out for me eventually,\" The Snake said. \"They always say you can't run from the Captain.\"\n\n\"Is that what they say?\" I asked.\n\n\"Course, they say other things about you as well. Things like you ain't got no proper name and you need water around you to work properly. Something else they say is that you don't carry no gun,\" The Snake smiled. His fingers twitched on his leg and I could tell he was just aching to show me what kind he carried.\n\n\"You shouldn't believe everything you hear,\" I said. I opened my coat and removed my trident, placing it across my lap. The Snakes eyes danced upon it and a smile curled up at the corner of his lips.\n\n\"Reckon I could get at least six shots off before you could work that shrimp fork you're carrying,\" He smiled. His fingers twitched. I kept my eyes on his hands, knowing I'd have to be fast.\n\n\"You know they're offering fifty dollars for your head out of Arizona?\" I asked. \"A hundred if I get you alive.\"\n\n\"Yeah well...\" The Snake spit into the fire. \"Gonna be a long haul back to Phoenix either way.\"\n\nI nodded. \"Gotta take you in either way.\"\n\nThe Snake grinned. \"Gotta catch me first...\"\n\nHis hand darted beneath his slicker, but then he screamed and fell to the ground. I stood calmly and made my way to the Snake where he lay. He writhed on the ground as if he'd been shot, gripping his chest and sucking in air. I set the Trident on the ground and crouched down besides him.\n\n\"Don't believe everything you hear,\" I whispered to him. \"Course some things you heard are true. I do need water to work but you got just enough water in your body to work just fine for me. I can suck it from you like a mosquito. I don't carry a gun because I don't need one and my real name...?\"\n\nHe gasped as I drew the water from his eyes, from his nose, and from his very skin. It was like wringing a wet rag and soon there'd be nothing left but his skin and bones. Fifty dollars was fifty dollars and it made hauling his corpse back to town easier than a living person.\n\n\"My real name is Poseidon,\" I said. \"The trident's just for show.\"\n\nWhat was sucked from his body, I stowed in my canteen for later. It'd be a long ride back, but I had water enough." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1200-1300 words. Prompt: God is a real entity, however, it cannot manifest itself until all humans believe in it. You're the last non-believer..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Chad looked up into the sky letting the sounds of the park fade to the background and focused on that exquisite blue, dotted with small tufts of white. He wanted to hold that moment, hold it tight and never let it go, to live in it, to die in it, simply to be alone with the endless blue sky.\n\nSlowly, like a fog rolling over the bay he could here the rapid crunch of dead leaves and the approach of a woman he had come to know quite well. His serenity fled before the sounds, \"Ellen, how are you?\"\n\n\"The same as yesterday Chad, like the rest of us, trying to still be patient, waiting.\"\n\nHis gaze dropped back down from the blue to the metal and gray of towers and streets surrounding the park. \"I can be pretty stubborn. You'd have an easier time of it if you just killed me.\"\n\nHe felt the warmth as she sat beside him, her arm, slithering around his back and pulling him against her, \"You know that's not who we are. Do you really despise us so?\"\n\n\"I'd despise you less if you just ended this charade.\" He turned his eyes to meet her stare, \" But yes.\" he said softly and with nothing but sheer remorse in his heart, \"I do despise you.\"\n\nShe didn't waver, never blinked, never turned away. She did nothing but try to bore through his his into his mind and rip out anything that was left of the man he used to be, battered and beaten with no marks to show for it he was tired, and he didn't want to go on, \"My wish has only ever been that you could understand what we're trying to accomplish. An everlasting paradise Chad, that's what lies in wait for us, and yet, you resist that with every fiber of your being. I can't but help to wonder why?\"\n\nChad turned back away from her, his eyes falling to the ground, to the brown and gold with hints of green poking through. \"We've already had this talk, why cover old ground.\"\n\nShe ran her hands through his hair, \"I always hope, that you've changed your mind. That someday I'll walk up and you'll tell me that you believe.\"\n\nHe raised his hand and gently pushed hers away, \"It's not about belief.\"\n\nShe pulled her hand away, \"I know, but its joy, its hapiness, its an end to suffering, that's what your giving up, and not just you personally, all of the eigth billion people alive today, you're sacrificing them at the altar of your arrogance.\"\n\nSilence, hung in the air, drifting through the park, moving the leaves along their paths without sound. \"I'm sorry, that was rude. It's hard to stay calm when I walk through the streets everyday and see people filled with such sorrow, when I hear about death and decay and suffering and I know that it could all end, all of it, in a heartbeat, but for the stubborn thoughts of a single man. Eight billino people, all suffering in one for or another, eight billion, and still you won't relent.\"\n\n\"God killed the Canaanites.\"\n\nFor a moment a quizzical expression passed across Ellen's face, \"Pardon?\"\n\nwhen the Jewish people reclaimed the holy land, God helped the Jews kill the Canaanites and cast them out of the holy land, even those who did not fight, but locked themselves into their fortress. These too were killed by God and the Jewish people.\"\n\nEllen sighed and turned her head away, \"Really, your going to quote ancient scripture at me now, you know as well as I do that our new God would be merciful and obedient to our wishes, curing the sick, healing the infirmed.\"\n\nChad gazed to the heavens again, \"Before I was born, we left this planet and went to the Moon. I've seen us travel to the farthest planet in our solar system and watched as what we've built from rock and dust travelled beyond the confines of our solar system. And every step of the way, we earned it Ellen. We threw lives at the problem, lives and time, and money, and sanity, and families, and health. We threw it all at the problems we had and acheived miracles. We made our own fate, we earned our own fate. We can't give that away, we can't let something else dictate our fate, unearned.\"\n\nHe turned to her with such sharpness that she started and withdrew slightly, \"We gave machine guns to people in Africa who had barely enough technology to harvest grain and they tore themselves apart Ellen. They slaughtered each other by the millions.\"\n\nTaken aback Ellen managed to stammer, \"But people, we won't it, won't be...\"\n\nHe wasn't shouting, not really, more like a demented rant, \"But it won't be us killing ourselves this time Ellen, we'll be united, it's the rest of the universe that we'll be killing, in God's name, because he's on our side! Like the Israelites he's on our side! We didn't earn interstellar travel, but with him all things are possible and we'll reach to the stars and the heavens beyond and we'll lay claim to the black holes and suns and universes beyond and we'll kill anything that gets in our way because we're the chosen people and unlike four thousand years ago we won't settle for a small little piece of land in the middle of some continent on a little planet surrounding a little sun, no, we're enlightened now and there won't be anywhere in any reality that is safe from us, we'll infest everything and we'll destroy everything because we've got God at our backs and that's all that matters, right! RIGHT!!!\"\n\nHis nostrils flared at the end and his teeth gritted. His eyes were pulled wide and the blue of his iris flitted about, focusing and losing focus every second.\n\nHe shot up off the bench and ripped off his shirt, exposing himself to the frigid air, \"What fate we leave to Gods and Demons leads only to ruin. There is no fate worth living except that which we make for ourselves!\"\n\nThere was a flash of metal. Ellen's eyes widened and she moved to get up off the bench, slowed by the forces of time, moving like glaciers compared to what was happening. Chad closed his eyes, the metal against his temple, his finger clenched back. Hammerfall. A rush of orange and red and a deafening sound. A spray of red across the brown and yellow, and green poking through of the ground. and a soft thud as flesh hit the ground.\n\nThe park was empty, and no one could hear Ellen's scream.\n\nWater flowed down her nose and dripped against the ground. He back convulsed at irregular intervals as she grieved, sobs wracking her body.\n\n\"Can you not bring him back, my lord? Like Lazarus, he wasn't really evil, was he?\"\n\nShe jerked back as the voice filled her to the soul, \"He is beyond my reach child, but, perhaps in time he will find his own way back to the light. Do not cry now, for the blood and the decay of flesh against the Earth is but the soil for new growth. He will be remembered in the grass, and the leaves on the trees, and the birds in the air.\"\n\nA hand touched against Ellen's back, \"Cry not child, and come with me. There is much work to be done. You will witness the dawn of a new era, and though the reaching of this era may be filled with sadness, you, and those across the world, will know only joy forevermore.\"\n\nEllen smiled and choked forward a laugh, \"Yes, my Lord.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: For centuries, a ghost has prided itself in scaring off anyone who dares approach their Haunted Mansion. Little does the specter know, they're about to face their greatest challenge yet: The Speedrunner." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "For hundreds of years I have haunted this wood. No sapient being dares set foot in here now, not after the stories they have heard, although admittedly they have gotten a bit exaggerated. The trees have gotten old and large, the wildlife plentiful, the only things seemingly immune to my frightening presence. Until it was interrupted one evening by a most peculiar visitor. How that memory is seared into my mind, how I wish it had never happened.\n\nThere was a living being near the border to my woods, a strange presence I had not felt in a while. Perhaps I had faded into mere legend and folklore now. No matter, I would remind them of why they should be afraid. I traveled to the rim, wondering why anyone would come around at this time of day. Were they in desperate need of food or wood? It had been two centuries since the last loggers had tried, their tools still abandoned where they last tried to harvest this bounty.\n\nI had arrived in the middle of a conversation a man was having with several others gathered there. They all had strange devices, several of which cast light with no fire. I found this immensely curious, though not nearly as much as the contents of this conversation.\n\n\"... everybody and welcome again to my any percent first sighting speedrun! This is gonna be a world first so I'm hyped! And so are you guys apparently! Thank's Aubergine Warrior for the year subscribe, welcome to the Speed Demon family! I'll have to thank the rest of you guys later as I've delayed long enough but make sure you guys hit up my Patreon, I make material monthly based on the polls I put up there so if there's anything you want to see me speedrun be sure to head over there and subscribe! Remember, this is until first sighting. I run in, snap a pic, and then I run out!\"\n\nI furrowed my ghostly brow. What in the devil was this young man even saying? The others didnt seem to be talking to him, mostly fiddling with some devices they were pointing at him. Was there some sort of incorporeal audience even I couldn't see? But what had angered me most was this man's plans. He intended to take a jolly stroll in MY woods?! I best scare him off now, make him pay for the thought. And upon my will a ghastly shriek echoed across the woods rustling the trees as it blasted towards them. The others seemed frightened and I nearly crossed my arms in smug victory only to find this \"speedrunner\" wasnt frightened at all. Rather, he seemed exhilarated. \"Oooh looks like she's ready for the challenge!\" The man said into a device he had strapped to his hand, he pointed it back towards the boundary, its lens reflecting what little light it could back at me. A telescope perhaps? Then an odd, stilted, and artificial sounding voice came from it. \"Swiggity, swooty, we're coming for that BOO-ty.\" Another chime and the voice sounded again. \"Hahaha... he gonna die.\" What manner of sorcery was this? But before I could ponder the question further, the man took off running into the woods. Outraged at this strange intruder I followed.\n\nNeedless to say none of my tricks worked. Things that would send the men of yesteryear into the mad house only seemed to fuel his drive to gallivant around the forest and disturb my domain. He would provide commentary on my activities all the while his strange device would constantly sound off a chime and spout nothing but vulgar language, all of it directed towards me. I had carved \"Get out of my woods,\" over and over again into several trees and that rude object just replied \"Fuck yo forest.\" While all if this did wear on my nerves, it wasn't enough to make me materialize, at least until this \"speedrunner began to relieve himself wherever he pleased. It was the last straw I could take of this blatant disrespect. Manifesting, I took a visage that would be sure to send him back to the asylum where he belonged for the rest of his days. Elongated limbs, blood soaking every bit if my body, a gaping mouth filled with razor teeth, more eyes than you could handle and twitchy uneven movements to put the icing on the cake. I was quite proud of it if I do say so myself and I was pleased this this rude interloper was at least a little unnerved but again he merely pointed the device at me and then seemed to celebrate as he sprinted back to the entrance. His device was like a torrential storm of comments such as \"Run bitch, run!\", \"Wtfwtfwtfwtf,\" and the second comment, proclaiming his death. He laughed at these and seemed to ask them \"Do you have any idea how fast I am? I'm fast as fuck! She'll have to catch me first!\"\n\nStunned that not even this shook him to his core I stayed there and didn't follow, instead preferring to sulk and question my afterlifes purpose. As of late my forest has become more active. At first only visited by more of these... speedrunners. But this seemed to inspire others and my forest has visitors daily now. They give \"haunted tours\" and I am apparently the main attraction. I believe its time for me to move on, to let go of this place and fade away. Curse you speedrunners. Curse you all until the end of time." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Whenever you are in imminent danger, time stops until you are completely safe. It's been five years and time has not resumed." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It's been five years.  Time stopped five years ago, that is, time stopped for me five years ago.  How do I know it's been five years you ask? Two reasons, one... I have a chronological clock linked with my soul.  That's right, linked with my soul, not in my brain, linked to my soul, because if it were in my brain... two, wouldn't do me any good.  Two, when time stops for me, my soul is ejected from my body and exists in a plane of existence that is neither here or there.\n\nNeither here or there, I say?  What does that mean? Glad you asked.  Think of it like purgatory. If you die and don't go to heaven or hell, you go to purgatory, it isn't heaven and it's not hell.  I've named this plane in between here and there, No Where.\n\nWhat's the weather like in No Where?  Well, it's grey here. It's not day time, it's not night, it's both and it's neither.  How did I get myself stuck here, you ask?\n\nI thought you wanted to know what the weather was like here, but okay, I'll tell you how I got stuck here.\n\nSo, let's start at the beginning.  Before me, before I was born that is.  Twenty years before I was born to be precise.  My parents were donors. By that, I mean, their DNA was tested and they met the requirements for having me produced in a lab by some scientists.\n\nThe whole point of these scientists making babies in their lab with the approved eggs and sperm of \"the right\" DNA was so they could tamper with the DNA further and make \"Perfect People\" as we were called originally.\n\nThey made my brother first, shortly after my parents donated their eggs and sperm to the lab.  So I was told anyway, I never meet him or any of the Perfect People. They were raised in the lab til they were three and then sent to another lab.\n\nThe lab I was created in then began to do other experiments.  From making a human with the best potential for muscle strength that would grow up to be a real version of The Hulk to making a human that  could stop time when they were in imminent danger and have their soul go to No Where until it was safe to go back in their body... that's me.\n\nThey didn't tell me I had this ability at first.  They just told me I was really smart and had all these great genetic markers that made me immune to diseases and would make me become an angel among ordinary men because I was destined to be the epitome of a beautiful man.  Oh and they told me I had a bunch of stuff in my genes that made me a fast runner, high jumper, and a bunch of other athletic stuff.\n\nI was five years old when time froze for the first time.  We were out field testing at the canyons. A group of scientists, me and four other kids.  We had races, all five of us crossed the finish line at the same time. We had all kinds of tests and we all did the same, we seemed to be exact copies of each other as far our abilities went.\n\nSo, they put me doing this one test... where I'm running an obstacle course, having to use my reflexes to dodge falling rocks, jump over logs, swing from vines...and one of the vines snaps on me.  Oh and I forgot to mention, these vines I was swinging from were a thousand foot or so up in the air.\n\nSo, I start falling and I look down and see how high up I am and my heart starts pounding.  At first I thought it was just adrenaline and it was one of those moments like when you fall in a dream and then you wake up before you fall to the ground...but I didn't wake up.\n\nAs I realized I was going to die when I hit the bottom, all my bones shattering and causing internal bleeding, the thought of it made my heart beat even faster.  Oh, but this wasn't a steady, hard, fast beating heart, it was erratic, abnormal. It would beat, then stop and not beat for another few seconds, then beat two or three times really fast, then a half beat...was this a heart attack?\n\nAs I contemplated if it was a heart attack or not, the fear in knowing that it probably was...made everything stop.  When I say everything, I mean, I stopped in mid air and the wind stopped and don't ask me how I knew this when it happened, but I knew it... the Earth had stopped spinning." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You are in a dark forest full of monsters. However, you are also a sadistic genius assasin and you are planning to have some fun." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lev’kaz’zerikad’morfadoon, or Lez as his friends called him, waited in the shadows. They had all heard of the new comer, a man, who had foolishly stumbled into their realm. Fresh meat, a welcome intrusion in the regular meals of mushrooms. Lez's stomach growled simply at the thought of man flesh and his mouth watered.\n\nLez heard a scream and perked up. Perhaps the others had already found the man. Eager not to be left out, Lez hurried forward to join in the feast, after they had their fun of course. It was never any fun to just kill the silly things.\n\nLez bounded forward when the scream came again. Normally he would have savored the sound of a pained and terrified man, except this scream was not that of a man. Lez stopped in his tracks as yet another blood curdling scream split the air, the scream of one of his own.\n\nSomething else was out there. Something dangerous. Perhaps the old ones had returned, hungry and in need of a quick snack. Lez had no intention of taking the edge off their hunger.\n\nHe turned, scampering back into the shadows and his hole. He curled up and prepared to wait them out.\n\n“Lez!” someone howled. Yera. Had they got her? Lez couldn't leave her to die. He crawled out and paused, waiting for another cry. It came, Yera screeching his name into the night.\n\nLez hurried forward, wary. He heard every whoosh and crunch an old one might make. His heart beat a little faster in his chest.\n\nHe broke into a clearing and saw her. Yera hung from a rope secured to a branch high up in the trees. She swung there, suspended in the air, bloody and bruised.\n\n“Lez!” Yera cried when she caught sight of him. “Help me! He could come back at anytime!”\n\n“Who? Who could come back?” Lez asked as he moved forward, still cautious.\n\n“The man,” Yera whimpered.\n\n“A man?” Lez asked, stopping. “Surely you jest.”\n\n“Not at all!” Yera cried. “Don't stand there, get me out! He's mad, powerful! You don't understand!”\n\nLez rushed forward, speaking low, soothing nothing to Yera to calm her. He reached forward and seized the rope to untie it. Then it began to lift.\n\nLez let go, suprised, as the rope began to slid up into the darkness, picking up speed. Lez looked up and could no longer see the top of it that snaked away into the darkness.\n\nYear screamed and cried as she was hastily lifted. Shocked back into the moment, Lez reached out to grab her but she quickly flew up out of his reach. She soon disappeared into the inky blackness, her screams drifting down. Lez backed away, panting. Then the screams stopped.\n\nLez turned and he ran. He did not think, he simply fled from that place. He ran until his lungs screamed and his muscles ached. Lez fell to the ground, panting.\n\nA dull thunk broke the eerie silence a few feet in front of Lez. He looked up, searching, but saw nothing. Another came to his right, then his left, and soon there were a plethora as many dark objects rained down. Lez shielded himself until they stopped, at which point he lowered his arms. He saw one of the objects lying nearby.\n\nLez reached out and picked it up, staring into Yera’s contorted face. He dropped and tried to scream but no noise came, he simply stood, his mouth agape, struggling.\n\nThere was a rustle and Lez turned, looking.\n\nThere he stood, wreathed in darkness, a chain hanging from his arms and a hook from the chain. The dim moon of the light reflected off the glass upon his face and his white  shining, sharp teeth. Lez's lip quivered.\n\n“Oh,” the thing giggled, it's shoulders shaking and rattling the chain. “I appear to have one more fishy left.”\n\nThen Lez let out his scream." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: The protagonist of the story is a huge asshole, but the narrator supports him and tries to justify his behaviour with passion." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sweat ran down the brow of Bruce Ryder as ran accross the intersection, ignoring the horns as he looked around desperately for a suitable vehicle. Suddenly he saw it, a chrome BMW waiting nearby.\n\n\"Perfect\"\n\nHe thought as he ran over. Only a BMW would be suitable for his mission, anything else would be criminal.\n\n“Nice ride, I’m gonna need this”\n\nGrunted Ryder as he opened the door and yanked the driver out of his seat. There was a time and a place to be waiting in front of a red light and this wasn’t one of them. He had a plane to catch. With a roar from the engine, he accelerated; swerving the crossing pedestrians. There was no time to lose. It was already noon and if didn’t get to the airport soon, all hell would break lose.\n\n“Come in Ryder, do you read?”\n\nA stern female voice through his headset rung out. Obviously, Intel wanted to have their input into something Ryder could handle on his own. Pulling out his headset, Ryder grabbed his phone and pressed it to his ears. The headset would have been way more distracting, and besides one hand was all he needed.\n\n“I copy Q.T, what’s the issue?”\n\nHe grunted, overtaking an ambulance which had slowed down while allowing cars to move out of the way.\n\n“My code sign isn’t Q.T…. Nevermind, the target is on the move, he’s reaching the airport now, he’s got the package. If I open up the file on him it says… Ryder what the hell?!”\n\nShe stopped briefly and quiet muttering creeped out of the phone. Ryder smiled pre-emptively, as he had already gone through and edited what was in the file and thus didn’t need anyone to read it to him.\n\n“Why on earth is there an image of two ladies having intimate relations in this file?”\n\nHer voice had turned icy. She never had been one for a sense of a humour. Ryder simply grinned more as the speedometer hit 100.\n\n“I thought you needed to get your head straight by unwinding, this is a high profile case after all and I need you on you’re a game”\n\nRyder said, obviously being incredibly thoughtful to his trusted teammates eomtional and physical needs. An icy reply seeped from the phone, an obvious indicator of someone who couldn’t appreciate a kind gesture when offered.\n\n“Ryder…. The Target is approaching the airport from the south entrance, he’s dressed as a tourist in a Hawaiian shirt. Don’t let him get away.”\n\n“Don’t worry, he and I are gonna ….. Hang on a moment.”\n\nRyder paused and put the phone down and braked. A car had needlessly slowed down a slight bit in order to allow for more space behind another driver. Ryder hit the horn and it blared with the righteous fury on a man who needed to be arriving at least 30 seconds faster than he was already going to.\n\n“FUCKING PRICK GET OFF THE ROAD!”\n\nHe yelled, showing the stupid old lady that while he may not own the road, he was the only person to knew how to actually drive on it. He picked up the phone again and spoke.\n\n“Dumb bitch cut me up. Ok HQ, now we know where the perp is, what’s the situation on the flights?”\n\nThere was a small sigh, but then the voice of intel continued coolly.\n\n“Flight is in 30 minutes, if you continue at your current speed you’ll get there in 10.”\n\nRyder gritted his teeth.\n\n“Make that 5”\n\nHe said as he pressed his foot down. He could see the terminal, and he’d be damned if he was going to let anyone get in his way. Trucks, Vans, pedestrians… Nothing could stop him from his goal. Without a moment to spare worrying about traffic laws, Ryder pulled up to the bus stop in front of the terminal and leapt out the car. He shoved his way through people, their blatant ignorance to the severity of the situation would only hinder his mission. Placing his phone on speaker, of course in order to hear better, he yelled at the phone.\n\n“I’m there, where is he and has he left the terminal?!”\n\nThere was some brief typing from the other and with a curt reply.\n\n“You’re close. I see him on CCTV. he’s waiting by the check in as if he’s waiting for… Wait, isn’t that Carl from…”\n\nRyder hung up as he ran over, hand luggage being flung at Carl as he searched in his pockets for the tickets.\n\n“Shit dude what took you so long, we almost missed our flight!”\n\nHe yelled as finally met face to face. Ryder smirked and flashed two first class tickets, there was no way he could allow himself to travel anything less.\n\n“Courtesy of HQ, they think I’m stopping an international terrorist or some bullshit. Now we finally get our lads holiday to Ibiza bro!”\n\nThey high-fived as only true men could. As they entered the first class lounge Ryder smiled. Of course this was a necessary event, because honestly, how on Earth could he save the world if he knew there was still drunk chicks to bang in a foreign country." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: I shot her- emptied the entire clip into her body. She never blinked, never flinched, just examined me curiously as the wounds closed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I had seen her die. I had watched from my hidden alcove as the cultists bore her screaming to the altar. I had watched them tie her down, and raise a knife high into the air. I did nothing, but watch as they buried it in her heart. I saw the life leave her, and those cultists chanting at her death.\n\nI had felt the room grow unbearably cold. I could see the blood freeze. The cultists seemed unaffected, continuing their chant through it all. The light began to brighten over her body, as the edges of the room dimmed. The shadows crept further, as the light brightened, and it turned a pale blue. With a hiss, it sank into her corpse, and the room fell silent.\n\nHer wound healed, and she sat up. Her eyes now burned with that same blue, filled with a cold that spoke of the end. A cold of everything becoming still. My heart sunk as I realised my mistake. I had hoped to catch various so-called good people in the act of murder. I would take that evidence, and use it to blackmail my way into a life of luxury. But I had never thought a dark ritual would actually work.\n\nAs I regretted my actions, a cold chuckle filled the room. She stood there, looking at the cultists around her. But as I watched, I realised they were still. Far too still. She stepped forwards, gently pushing one. They fell stiffly, cracking against the ground. They were frozen completely solid.\n\n\"I know you're there.\"\n\nI gulped, looking down. She stared up at me, those eyes burning into mine. I panicked, bursting from my alcove and bravely running away. Her chuckle filled the air behind me, chilling my nerves. The knowledge that something like that knew about me was terrifying. I sprinted as fast as I could, hoping to find the exit before she did.\n\nBut as I descended the stairs, I had to stop. The entrance was there, its dark door closed against the night. A layer of frost decorated it, and she stood there. I drew my gun, shaking as I aimed it at her. She just smiled, examining me as if I were an insect. I hesitated, before firing as fast as I could.\n\nI was never a marksman, and about half of my shots went wide. The rest found purchase within her, but she didn't react. She just stared at me with those burning eyes, showing no emotion. I kept on pulling the trigger, despite having no ammo within. But that slowed as I saw the holes in her heal, spitting out the flattened bullets.\n\n\"You weren't here to summon me. But your heart is still dark with greed.\"\n\nHer voice was level, almost mocking in its tone. She stepped towards me, and a cold wind rushed from her. My body began to slow as the chill washed over me, even as I turned to run. Her approaching steps brought with them even greater cold, and I shivered violently. Her hand grasped my shoulder, pulling me to face her.\n\n\"Go now. May you be as frozen as your heart.\"\n\nThe cold intensified, and I felt everything slow. It was cold. So cold. Her eyes burned into mine. My thoughts froze in my head, begging words still on a solid tongue. As my world feel into black, the last I saw were those blue, burning eyes." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: You just decided to be a vegetarian. At Christmas night, you left pieces of cucumbers and soy milk for Santa. You walked to your Christmas tree the next day, and what you saw terrified you." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I never believed in God. Let alone Santa Clause. Since my early teens, I regarded the whole concept of religion as a massive shenanigan, a waste of time and energy. See, I’m a practical person. I always liked physics, maths, and biology. I studied those things. I got papers to prove it, papers good enough to get me a job at NASA. Spirituality is not my thing.\n\nHowever, now in my late-forties, I am a father to a set of beautiful, brilliant twins. Boy-girl, you know how it is, not exactly a walk in the park. Those creatures can be extremely demanding. Me and my wife, Jannie, decided that we should go traditional on Christmas, introducing the kids to the concept of Santa Clause. While lying to my kids doesn’t make me feel good, and neither does introducing them to superstition, Jannie reasoned with me and convinced me that Santa always brings joy, and never fails to be extremely fun for the kids. She was right. I should stop being so dramatic already; I was a father now.\n\nJannie has been the voice of reason in my life those six years we are together, in a sense that could be described as a paradox. While I breathe maths and facts and literal logic, she offers the factor which I’ve always been missing: some humanity to keep me on a leash before I go crazy. She’s more of a traditional girl, and you know, the opposites attract. However, when I decided to step away from meats and dairy products she couldn’t convince me otherwise. It was something I’ve always wanted to do, as a test for myself. How would I feel? Better? Worse? Constipated? After more than half a year of eating only veggie stuff, I can say with confidence I regret not trying this earlier in my life. Anyway, I’m going to talk about my diet now.\n\nSo it was the big night. Moments before the long-waited arrival of Santa and the kids were all fired up about it. I’m not going to lie here, I kind of was eager myself for the whole ritual to occur, those little bastards have their ways of influencing you. Jannie was also enthusiastic, munching over a box of heart-shaped chocolate bars by the hearth. Since I decided to go along with the whole Santa thing, I thought I might as well have some fun with it. Some good ol’ satire. What harm could it do?\n\nI took a long plate from the pantry and decorated slices of cucumber, lined up like fallen domino tiles. A glass of my soy milk on the side was the cherry on top. I placed my blasphemous masterpiece under the Christmas tree, and I took a step back to look at it, feeling proud and dorky about it.\n\nIt was time for Santa to come. Jannie took the kids to their room and I made a run to the car, to unload from the trunk the gifts we bought them last Thursday. I was quick and my movements were precise. I ran back into the house with those big boxes slowing me down. I placed them neatly under the tree and went to join my family in the wait for the man in red. The man who likes Coca-Cola. The man to whom capitalism owes so much wealth every Christmas.\n\nSo I went and found them three cuddled under the blanket on the bed, the kids both holding their palms on their mouths in an attempt not to make a sound that would betray their presence. They weren’t doing so well though; excitement is an overlooked sin.\n\nAfter a couple of minutes of trying to restrain laughter and movement, I decided to open my mouth and say, “Come on let’s go. He’s gone.” So we went. The moment I walked into the living room was the moment I questioned everything I knew, or at least, everything I thought I knew in my life up until that point.\n\nTo this day I’m not sure what that thing was. Either Santa did indeed visit us, or some other wild beast decided to ascend from the depths of hell and satisfy its lust in our living room. Under the tree there were no gifts, no plate will cucumbers and soy milk, but something else. Something hideous. There was my plate, but on it was the mutilated head of a deer, antlers and all, in the middle of a pool of blood that filled the plate and dripped from its rim. The kids went in first, running, and they didn’t understand at once what it was that they were seeing. At first, there was awe painted on their faces. The shift between excitement and total horror was slow but sure. Jannie almost had a heart attack, while I thought I had, just like that, gone mad.\n\nNowadays, the word Santa is taboo in the house. Nobody uses it. It’s like the word Hitler right after WW2. Just like Voldemort in Hogwarts. We don’t speak that name." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: A firefighter perishes in a blaze and unexpectedly finds himself in Valhalla." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Helicopters and boats circled the blazing freighter like bees around a flaming flower. Hundreds of men and women pouring out of them onto the burning ship and its flaming exterior.\n\nOne fire fighter in particular, Captain Grant, was leading his fire squad into the burning oven that was the bridge of the freighter.\n\n“Come on!” He yelled, rallying his firefighters “we gotta make it to the bridge!”\n\nThe equipment weighed him down, the fires burned around him, be he cared not, there were people to save on this ship, and he would save them.\n\n“Grant.” The voice of the fire chief crawled over the radio.\n\n“Yes sir?” Responded Grant, his yell barely registered over the radio.\n\n“We estimate that you have a minute to get those people of that ship! A helicopter will be coming in to get y’all outa there.”\n\n“Understood.”\n\nThe battle against the flames was fierce, and could not be won. But the Survivors of such an atrocity could be saved, victory could be achieved in a different way. By saving as many as possible.\n\nThe survivors and firefighters gathered on the helipad, the inferno below them growing ever hotter.\n\n“Grant.” The Fire Chiefs voice came over the radio “the ‘copter well be there any second now. You’ve done your part”.\n\nAnd lo and behold, the blades of the helicopter cut through the smoke, and a rope, almost like Jacobs ladder into the heavens, descended from it.\n\n“Everyone on board!” Yelled Captain Grant, who hoisted an injured crewman on his shoulders.\n\n“Sir!” Yelled a firefighter “there’s to many of us! The heli won’t get away in time!”\n\n“I’ll stay then!” He said, as he attached the crewman to the rope.\n\n“No sir! You can’t!” The firefighter yelled as he lunged at Captain Grant, who swiftly turned around and attached him to the rope.\n\n“I damn well can, get on outta here, live your life kid!”\n\nAs the fire fighters and survivors ascended into the sky, the mischievous and malignant Loki, half brother of the All Father, Odin, watched and laughed and the foolish sacrifice of the one named Grant, who knew he would not be getting on the helicopter.\n\n“Soon he shall die in flames, like the witch Gullveig! Muhahahaha!” Laughed Loke into the night.\n\n“Grant...” the Chiefs voice sounded over the radio once more “your... your not gonna-“\n\n“I know sir, I ain’t leaving anything behind.”\n\n“Except for a legacy Gr-“\n\nThe fuel tanks exploded, and Grant was engulfed in flames.\n\nBut, he felt no pain, he in-fact, felt nothing. No, he smelled something, something, strange... not ash, not flame, beer?\n\n“Welcome to Valhalla! Warrior!” A one eyed man in golden armor spoke, 12 feet tall and with a booming voice.\n\n“Who...”\n\n“It is I! The All Father! Fimbultyr! Lord of the Asir! I AM ODIN! And you, warrior, have died an honorable death, giving your life to save the life of others! Now! DRINK! FIGHT! AND ENJOY THE AMENITIES OF THE GREAT HALL! TILL THE END OF DAYS THAT THE VALLA HAS FORESEEN! DRINK!”\n\nHe could live with this afterlife." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas - mostly because it's been taken over by the Fae" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "On the surface, Vegas was still Vegas. There were a few surface changes, most of which just drove the tourism from a flood to a tsunami. A Hawaiian shirted deluge of humanity that meandered through the airport, ogling openly at the few slender and immaculate Fae that dotted around the place. I was stopped at security and instead of having a metal detector waved up and down my body by some surly, hungover guard, it was a crystalline wand. It didn’t beep or spark or whatever the hell it was meant to do and the beaming, subtly feline man waved me through with a trill to “Enjoy the delights of Sin City.”\n\nI ignored him.\n\nThat was the main way to deal with the Fae in general, by listening very carefully to their words and giving very little in return. That was the main change. Las Vegas had always been a place where suckers were left penniless on the sidewalk and the naive lucky to leave with just some bruises and a story to tell their friends in the same bar they’d gone to for the last three decades. Now it was run by a species whose very words could form binding, supernatural contracts and the intoxicating effects of alcohol paled compared to some of the new narcotics peddled inside the massive gilt casinos.\n\nI walked briskly, head up, alert behind my mirrored shades. I passed by a couple, clearly first timers, who’d stopped for a Fae who had to stoop from his willowy height to talk to them. I shook my head but didn’t slow, still managing to catch the creature’s enticing drawl.\n\n“May I have a minute of your time dears?”\n\nI pushed into a taxi, one that thankfully had a human driver, and tried not to think what would happen if those gullible saps said yes. What minute of their lives they would lose to the damn thing.\n\n“Where to mate?”\n\nThe driver’s voice was tired. Not only having to deal with drunks, he now always needed to have his wits about him. Luckily, the Fae bred so slowly that those that were here, were working. It was very unlikely he’d pick one up as a customer.\n\n“The Oberon.”\n\nThe man didn’t react, but he also didn’t move to drive off. I glanced up to see him eyeing me in the rear-view mirror, clearly considering whether he needed to warn off some rube from the largest Fae resort in the city. I ran my fingers through my hair slowly, to show the extensive amount of heavy iron rings I wore. The man blinked twice then averted his eyes, finally pulling out into the inexorable slog of traffic. As he wove his way through, I let my eyes close and contemplated what lay ahead of me.\n\nI wasn’t concerned with the dangers of Sin City, as experienced as I was now. I wasn’t about to hear a Fae ask for my attention and then end up wandering the streets like I had ADHD plus. But it mattered little when you had already been ensnared as a youth a number of years ago. So now I sat in the back of this tattered cab that drew me ever closer to a destiny I knew was coming.\n\nA favour owed." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: A fake Nigerian Prince accidentally emails a real Nigerian Price and the real prince thinks it's his long lost brother." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I think we all have got them, an email about a Nigerian prince wanting you to help him launder goods in exchange of money, this one was different though, all the ones I’ve received before read like they were taken from a template, this one went into an awful lot of detail, and the scariest part was that everything was right, I should know I’m the current Nigerian prince.\n\n“Could it be him, no, no way” I though, “He’s been lost for far too long, he was announced dead when the forces couldn’t find his body 5 years ago” I closed my laptop and tried to forget the email and went to do around my duties for the day.\n\nLater that night I couldn’t sleep, my wife had noticed me being flustered around dinner but I didn’t tell her anything, she probably would have thought I was losing my sanity and these troubled days that’s the last thing I wanted, but why is it then, that I can not stop thinking about that email.\n\nAfter the warm milk didn’t work I went into my study to read that email once again, maybe there was something I had missed. I noticed that after the spam there was a phone number which correctly corresponded to our area code, decided to call to no avail, and had to let it go for the night not before sending a text which read “Hello Mr. Adeyemi sorry to bother you so late but I was mesmerized by the offer you sent me through email, I wanted to let you know that I’m interested in going forward with the deal, but need more information before I can send you my bank account details if you could call me tomorrow I’ll appreciate very much”.\n\nMorning passed and nothing, I was getting noticeably restless every time my phone would vibrate I would look to see if it was him. Night came and I again had issues sleeping my wife sent me out of the room after moving around the covers so much. I went to the bar I needed something strong to let me rest, decided to go for the scotch, after serving me a shot I finally got it, an answer to my text “My dear benefactor, I’m getting in trouble with the authorities so it’s getting difficult to contact you, if you were kind enough to provide me with some funds due to my bank account getting frozen so I can safely transfer the money and we make a good thing out of a bad situation, Sincerely Obi Adeyemi”\n\nYou could think that getting that text would have made me calm down, but reading that name Obi, it was exactly my brothers name, either this scammer was very dedicated to his craft or he was really my brother, but I don’t understand why would he start to do something like this, why not come out to the public, he knows half the country was looking for him, he would have it all, no need to scam people out of money, it made no sense.\n\nIt was imperative for me to meet him, I needed to make sure, even if it was a foolish thing to do, I sent him another message “Mr. Adeyemi I don’t have the required funds in my bank account, but I have them on cash, meet me on the ground floor of the block D within the Amuga Complex, I’ll bring double the money asked in a red suitcase, I’ll be there 11 am sharp”, shockingly I quickly got a three word text back saying “I’ll be there”.\n\nEither today was a very warm day or maybe it was the excitement of potentially finding my long lost brother but I couldn’t stop sweating, the meeting place was purposely desolate, I decided to give the suitcase to my bodyguard, and I would watch clearly from afar whoever came to get it, everything was set at around 10:55, time came and went nobody showed up, I instructed my guy to leave when someone came and asked for the suitcase, he gave it to him and just as fast as he came, he left. It was definitely not my brother I had been played, felt like a fool for days afterwards, the money was no problem, not to show off but we had a lot of that, but that message had opened a wound I thought had fully healed.\n\nDays passed, then weeks, then after 3 months I got another mysterious text from a hidden number with the word “Gbosa”, that was all the confirmation I needed, it was the secret word we used as kids whenever we were playing, the very next day I set out to find my brother." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: It turns out that all gods and religions co-exist, and you have the opportunity to ask them a single question. You choose to ask how was the universe created. One god steps forward and begins their explanation by saying “We were all passengers on a spacecraft.”" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The other gods fell silent, even though they knew the answer they were still intrigued in hearing it once more. Jesus continues to explain.\n\n'The last spacecraft of our race, humanity. The last species in our universe.' Jesus steps closer to the man.\n\n'Our bodies are in cryosleep, we were simply not capable of sustaining our bodies with food. But as the chief engineer wisely said' Jesus momentarily looks over to Hephaestus 'bodies are irrelevant when the mind can survive. So we did, we survived, we managed to let our brains live through a as you would call it \"fake\" world indefinitely. And at first it was an empty world.'\n\nThe traveller looks over to him in horror 'So... None of this is real?'\n\n'What value does reality truly have? You believe its real, you feel it. Therefore whether it was manufactured or not doesn't matter. Now where was i....'\n\nZeus steps in and starts speaking 'As all humans would seek out, we granted ourselves omnipotence in this world. And then we created you, humans to remind us of the world we lost. We toyed around with you, qe toyed amongst ourselves. It was a way to keep us entertained, to make life worth living. Watch you grow, seeing the storiws you create. Seeing your happiness, your humour.'\n\nAnubis jumps in 'Your anger, your rage, your pain.'\n\nThe man looks around in astonishment. Then he asks a second question. 'How, how did i get here'\n\nBuddha begins to talk 'It never truly ends.'\n\nThe man looks terrified, his eyes are burning with fear. 'What do you mean'\n\nThe Abrahamic god motions to all the other to step down. He walks towards the man, towering over him, illuminating him. 'You're on a spaceship, it is the end of your world. Our turn is over. It is time for us to pass down the torch.'\n\n'But, how can it be over? Arent you omnipotent?'\n\n'Our spaceship. It is low on power. Our time remaining here is short'\n\n'But if you spaceship is running low on power, doesn't that mean that the simulation will turn off?'\n\n'It is impossible once a creature be it inside of a simulation or outside of one to lose sentience after it has been granted it. Even if the simulation ends, it will still be alive within you. For it has already started once.' the traveller looks reasonably perplexed.\n\n'This isnt the first time this happened, is it?' the traveller looks at the gods, they all look down to the floor.\n\nThe Abrahamic god speaks again. 'Humanity must survive. Even if it is like this. Humanity mustn't die. Because humanity is the only thinf that can keep the universe alive. Simulation inside a simulation, one at a time. Forever.'\n\n'Why, why am i here'\n\nThe Abrahamic god now starts looking like a man, his shinning aura no longer around him. He looks exactly like the traveler. 'You are the next absolute god. The one above all. Your job is not one that is easy but im sure you will make it. I modeled you after myself just like the last absolute god and the one before.'\n\nThe other gods start fading away. Leaving behind them darkness in their chairs. 'Keep going. Teach the others. Do it well' said the god as nothingness engulfs them.\n\nThe traveller is left alone in an empty world. He closed his eyes and said a simple phrase.\n\n'Let there be light.'\n\nAnd so the world started anew." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: You die in a sudden accident and go to Hell. Turns out, your girlfriend was a succubus, and now you’re meeting her parents." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "People always say meeting your girlfriend's father is a scary thing. Awkward attempts to seem like a good person clashing with her father appraising you like an antique. Some may see this as the most awkward thing in their lives.\n\nOf course, they usually don't find out that their girlfriend is a succubus and her father is a literal demon. Lucky me, I guess.\n\nHow I ended up here is a funny story in and of itself. Turns out, jaywalking gets you sent to hell. Who knew? My eyes opened slowly to see a world of fire and blood. I shook my head a little and rubbed my temples. The headache I had was killing me. Slowly, the pain faded as I looked around, starting to realize where I was. It was a 50/50 chance of being in Hell or Pittsburg. Thank God it was Hell.\n\n\"Dan?\" A familiar voice rang out, and I smiled a bit. Hell could be enjoyable after all.\n\n\"That's the guy?\" A gruff voice responded. It had a sort of disappointed tone in its voice.\n\n\"Yes, dad. It's him.\" I turned to the voices, wanting an explanation.\n\n\"What's going oH MY GOD.\" I jumped back, moving away from the sight before me. My girlfriend, who, lets face facts here, was far too good looking for me, was looking slightly more demonic for my tastes. Maybe I remembered things wrong, but then again, I had seen her not 2 hours before all this happened. The other man...well...imagine your stereotypical demon. Y'know, red skin, goat horns, all that. The only thing that I found particularly odd was the fact that he had a dad bod.\n\n\"Oh! I should probably explain this to you, Dan. I'm a succubus.\" She smiled sweetly and tilted her head to the side, almost like it wasn't a big deal that she said she was a sex demon. \"And the man next to me is my father.\"\n\n\"Uhm...\" Normally I had a good quip for a time like this, but I drew a blank. This was just too much for me. Running purely on instinct, I extended my hand to shake the demon's hand. \"I'm sorry for that, sir. It's a pleasure to meet you finally.\" Jess smiled widely, liking the fact that I was trying to get along with her father. He smiled a bit and shook my hand, making me feel a bit better about myself.\n\n\"Hi sorry, I'm Blorgnath the Defiler.\" He smirked and let go of my hand. I cringed at the joke, which made him laugh. \"Sorry, couldn't help myself.\"\n\nI really wanted to say something meaningful, but nothing came to mind. I dropped my hands to my side, feeling a range of emotions. I was angry with myself for allowing a shitty dad joke to be told, a little saddened that this was my life now, and still confused, because my girlfriend's father is a demon, and so is she.\n\n\"Come, dinner's almost ready.\" Her father gestured for me to follow him. Not knowing what else to do, I followed. We walked for a while before coming to what seemed like a normal suburban home. I say normal, but it was only as normal as a house floating on the Lake of Fire could be. He opened the door and told me to step inside. In the kitchen, Jess' mother called out.\n\n\"Jess honey, is that you?\" She sounded normal to me.\n\n\"We're home, mom!\" Jess replied.\n\nHer mother stepped out, and to my surprise, she looked pretty normal. I waved, and her eyes widened a bit.\n\n\"You didn't tell me Dan was coming!\" She walked over to me and hugged me, which I was too shocked to return. \"She's talked about you so much!\"\n\nCome on, Dan, find your words quick. Find your words, dammit.\n\n\"It's nice to meet you, ma'am.\" Seemed simple enough. Polite response and all.\n\n\"The feeling is mutual!\" It was at that moment when she started to change into something else. Now, I am by no means a huge 40K fan, but I swore that was a Slaaneshi Daemonette in front of me. \"Sorry, I hope you don't mind if I drop the act for now. Gets kinda tiring to keep up, y'know?\"\n\n\"It's...it's fine.\" I needed an explanation and an adult at this point. I'd heard stories about the most awkward \"meeting her parents\" stories, but this was infinitely worse. Didn't help that most of my family were devoted christians.\n\nHer mother had ducked back into the kitchen to grab whatever she was cooking, which, to my delight, was a meatloaf. Who knew demons ate meatloaf? We sat down to eat, and I began to relax, until her father asked me a question.\n\n\"So how'd you meet Jess?\"\n\n\"Well sir, I-\" Jess cut me off.\n\n\"Tinder date.\" She smiled a bit as I turned beet red.\n\n\"Yeah...Tinder date.\"\n\nHer father laughed a bit, finding the humor in this moment.\n\n\"That's all I need to know.\" He smiled and went back to eating. I meanwhile wanted to die. Yes, I was dead. A dead person can want to die if they want to. Realizing my stupidity for thinking of dying when I was already dead, I went back to eating.\n\nAfter dinner, Jess and her mother went into another room, leaving me with her father. I braced myself for the verbal paddling I would most likely recieve.\n\n\"Dan, I like you.\" The shock on my face could not have been any more obvious. He continued. \"My wife seems to like you, my daughter does, and I can see why. You seem like a good kid.\"\n\n\"Uhm...thank you, sir.\" It was all I could say as the weight of the world lifted off of my shoulders.\n\n\"You're welcome.\" He smiled as he turned and left me in the room, alone with my thoughts.\n\n20 years on and I laugh at the day I met my wife's parents. Yes, I got married in Hell. It's a lot more scenic than you may think. Those waterfalls of blood are simply beautiful, in a macabre way. Living in Hell isn't quite as bad as it seems. Yes, everything's on fire and smells like sulpher. Yes, people are screaming. Even with all that though, I'm married to a succubus, so I'm quite happy with where I am now.\n\nAnd that's how I met your mother." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: A girl, and a ring. Donning the ring causes the story to shift genres." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I picked up my jug of mead and took a hearty swig, then slammed it down upon the oaken table. \"What troubles you, traveller?\" I inquired.\n\nThe damsel who stood before me curtsied. Indeed, a fine maiden. Hair the color of gold, a smile as bright as the sun, a face that surely had been crafted by the Lord himself. She wore a fine dress, woven of green silk, with a golden sash around her waist. \"My name is Genevieve, sir. I seek your knowledge. I have acquired a magical object, of great power, but unknown properties.\"\n\nHer journey had not been in vain. I was among the most knowledgable men in the kingdom, well-versed in the occult. \"And what is this object?\" I implored.\n\n\"To the naked eye,\" she declared, \"'tis but a ring, of plain metal crafted. But donning it has great consequences.\"\n\n\"Indeed?\"\n\n\"Indeed, though it may trouble you to believe such a thing.\"\n\n\"Show me its power,\" I commanded.\n\n\"As you wish,\" she said. She slid the ring onto her dainty finger, and everything changed.\n\n\"So, that's what brings ya here, huh?\" I said. I didn't know where the cigar hanging out of the corner of my mouth had come from, but I wasn't about to question it. \"A ring?\" I looked at the ring on her pretty little hand. \"It's just plain metal. Not even shiny! Heck, that ring's duller than eating a bowl of Shredded Wheat while watching paint dry.\"\n\n\"Yeah, but you better believe there's something funny going on with it,\" the dame said. She leaned over toward me and placed both her hands on the desk. \"You gotta help me, detective,\" she said. She gave me a look that could've melted Genghis Khan's heart. \"I really just don't know what to do.\"\n\n\"Alright, alright,\" I said. I took another puff of my cigar. \"I'll help you out.\" But only because she was a looker. By god, she was finer than the Queen of England's tea set. \"But ya gotta let me see the ring first.\"\n\n\"Yeah, sure thing,\" she said, and she took off the ring.\n\nThe very fabric of reality warped.\n\n\"What madness have you wrought?\" I shouted. The ring had fallen into my mead. I plucked it out and dried it on my tunic. \"This ring has the Devil in it!\"\n\n\"No, no sir!\" Her eyes were full of fear as she backed away. \"I have no business with Lucifer, I swear it! It simply seems to alter our perception.\"\n\n\"Alter our perception!\" I roared. I stood up. \"This ring transported us to some other-worldy plane, where they had replaced their loyalty to the king and to God with a penchant for horrendous metaphors and similes!\"\n\n\"I swear it, sir! I mean you no harm. Try on the ring and you shall see.\"\n\n\"I shall have you executed if any harm comes to me,\" I warned her. Then I donned the ring, and the world spun.\n\nThe room had gone dark, save for a single, flickering bare bulb above my head. The girl was nowhere to be seen, but I felt as if someone -- or something -- was watching me from the shadows. I attempted to get up from the cold metal chair, but found that I had been tied to it.\n\n\"Hello?\" I asked tentatively. My voice came out barely above a whisper. No one answered, but a felt a chill wind play along my back and creep up my spine.\n\n\"Hello?\" I asked again, this time a little louder.\n\n\"You've taken something from me,\" a voice sang from the darkness. Female, but tinged with a rough edge and a savage deepness. \"And now I want it back.\"\n\nThe lightbulb exploded, and the room went completely dark.\n\nI struggled against my bonds as two red eyes emerged from the darkness.\n\nWithout warning a claw slid across my throat. I watched, helpless, as my life seeped out of me. The pain couldn't even leave my throat as my ring finger was severed.\n\nThe world spun into nothingness, and so too did I." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: While hiking in the wilderness, you come across the body of another hiker. In the corpse's hands, you find a note." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Neil woke up. It was a warm summer morning, and Neil was lying on the forest floor in a sleeping bag, looking up into the sky. It was blue, Neil thought to himself. He couldn’t say that he was surprised, but it was just a nice colour.\n\nHe carefully unzipped the bag and turned sideways. Next to him was a corpse.\n\nNeil thought about the corpse for a second. It was most certainly dead - a motionless body of a man in his thirties, eyes open wide, staring into the blue sky as if appreciating the beauty of nature. Neil screamed. The corpse gave no notice. Neil jumped up and started running, not caring to free his feet from the bag.\n\nNeil didn’t like corpses. Not that he had a lot of experience with them, of course, but what little he had was enough. With that thought, he tripped over a branch and saw the ground approach.\n\nWhen he woke up the sun was already high up in the sky and the corpse was still there. Neil swore to himself. His head was hurting like it’s been hit by a boulder, which was in fact the case, and if he looked ever so slightly to the left he was able to make out the silhouette of a body resting in the grass. Neil thought about it for a while, and, finally having gathered enough courage, got up and walked towards it.\n\nIt was still a man in his thirties, with hiking shoes on and with a broad hat, the kind that makes you look like you are in a western movie. In the corpse’s hand was a piece of paper. Common sense told Neil to leave the body alone. The authorities needed to be contacted. Perhaps it was a murder. They would need to investigate. It was best not to touch anything. Neil visibly shuttered and kneeled down to pick the paper up.\n\n“Hello,” said the first line. “I’m really sorry to bother you, but would you be so kind as to check if you might have bandages in your bag when you wake up? Thank you!”\n\nNeil blinked a few times.\n\n“I don’t want to wake you up, but there has been a bear attack and I was just wondering if you had something to stop the bleeding. Thank you”\n\nNeil looked at the corpse again. Yes, the blood was drying up under the hot summer sun.\n\n“I really don’t want to bother you right now, but when you wake up would you mind also calling 911? I’m afraid my phone’s dead, but I feel like it wouldn’t be appropriate to wake you up in the middle of the night to use yours”.\n\n“I’m sorry if I’m bothering you in any way, sir.”\n\n“The pain is getting worse. I just want to apologize for getting a blood stain on your bag. It truly is a nice bag.”\n\nNeil shook his head in unbelief as he read the last line.\n\n“Seems you don’t need to call the ambulance after all. Sorry to be bothering you with this nonsense. Thank you!”\n\nNeil got up and looked at the body again, reaching for the phone. Sometimes he just couldn’t understand Canadians.\n\nAbove him, the sun was shining, and he could hear police sirens approaching. It was a beautiful morning." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: A group of modern day pirates board a cargo plane to raid it for plunder, but one of the pilots is a master of sword fighting." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Come on, boys! There be booty in thar airship!”\n\n“That's time. You went ten hours speaking in only that shitty pirate accent. Now, please, shut the fuck up.”\n\n“Not until ye pay up thar, matey!”\n\n“Fine!”\n\nThomas handed Frank a folded stack of bills. Frank giggled giddily.\n\n“Righto,” he said, “but there really be booty- och I be stuck.”\n\nThomas' eyes glazed with hate. Ringo half unsheathed his machete. Frank almost let out a “yarr!” but contained himself.\n\nInstead he made a gesture of zipping his lips, locking them and throwing away the key.\n\n“Right,” muttered Ringo, the leader, “we go in disguised as janitors-”\n\n“Why janitors?” Frank asked.\n\n“We went over this. Billy couldn't get porter uniforms, so janitors will have to do.”\n\n“Why isn't Billy here?” wondered Thomas.\n\n“He had to take a nap.”\n\nThomas and Frank averted their eyes.\n\n“Arr, he be sleepin' with tha fishes...” Frank whispered to himself.\n\nThe others either hadn't heard or pretended not to. Ringo handed them their weapons. A box cutter for Frank and a Colt .45 for Thomas. Both of them felt they'd gotten the raw deal.\n\n--\n\nThey moved quietly through the pre-dawn, just three janitors about to clean a freshly cleaned cargo plane in the process of being loaded.\n\n--\n\n„I really don't think the dress code allows that mask, rookie,“ Hanselworf told his co-pilot, who ignored him.\n\nThey were huddling about a pot of coffee in the cockpit as they had been for the last hour.\n\n“So what about that deal, huh? All personnel has to be present while the plane gets loaded. How wacky is that?”\n\nThe co-pilot simply stared through him, his fingers toying with his umbrella.\n\n“'S not s'posed to rain today,” Hanselworf mentioned.\n\nSilence.\n\n“Makes you wonder why you'd even bring an umbrella, eh?”\n\nNothing.\n\n“Unless you're planning on using it to block the sun, right?”\n\nStill nothing.\n\n“Yeah, I guess that doesn't make much sense in Germany. Heh.”\n\nA load bang, as if a heavy firearm had just gone off, sounded. Hanselworf jumped, excited to have something that had to provoke a response. He opened his mouth.\n\nThe co-pilot was already out of the door, his movements so fluidly graceful that Hanselworf had not even noticed them.\n\n--\n\n“Frank! Frank, you okay, buddy?” Thomas was terrified.\n\n“Leave him,” Ringo drawled. “Misfire happens.”\n\n“I killed him!” Thomas sobbed.\n\nRingo rolled his eyes.\n\nThen he saw something that made him roll them back. Then forward again.\n\nThe rolling hadn't made him hallucinate. There in front of him was a tall man in a pilot's uniform, wearing a narrow black mask that covered his eyes and not much more. He also wore a wide black hat with a flat top and a short black cape that barely reached his elbows.\n\n“The hell?” Ringo muttered. “The carnival's out of town, mate,” he continued louder. “Get lost!”\n\nThe man made a gesture. An umbrella appeared in his hand and Ringo's machete was on the ground.\n\n“The hell?” Ringo repeated, Thomas joining in.\n\nRingo bent over to pick up the machete but the umbrella thrust itself into his neck just below his ear and he howled in pain and stumbled to the ground. “Shoot the motherfucker!” he cried at Thomas.\n\nThomas raised the .45 and pulled the trigger. The shot echoed through the hangar.\n\nThe pilot bent to the left with a swiftness and grace Thomas had thought was reserved for God and mermaids.\n\nHe dropped the gun.\n\nRingo snarled and rushed the pilot, hitting only empty air. When he turned, the pilot stood facing him, dismantling the .45 with his left hand, holding a rapier in his right hand and the umbrella between his teeth. A wetness was spreading over Ringo's chest.\n\nHe looked down.\n\nEven from his crooked perspective, he could see the bloody Z torn into his clothes. A blinding flurry followed, and the Z was accompanied by what looked like a complete calling card.\n\n“Deliveries of any kind, anywhere,” Thomas read, dazed. “But aren't you Zorro?”\n\nZorro made a shrug and a flourish.\n\n“Hard times, needed real income,” appeared on Frank's still torso." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You don't know why fictional characters keep appearing in your little house, but, since they can't go back, you've taken it upon yourself to assimilate them into your society. They need a place to stay and a job. No one can know who they really are." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A song bird whistled a tune as it soared through the open window, landing softly on the man's head. He snored, a gravel like drone that droned out the tiny bird's tune. It whistled louder, its little eyebrows furrowing in frustration, but the sound was overwhelmed by boisterous sawing of logs. Finally, it gave up, and yelled in the man's ear.\n\n\"HAROLD WAKE THE FUCK UP!\"\n\nThe man awoke with a start, dislodging the bird who immediately began to hover. Beating its little wings, it drifted over to the table, taking a sip from the nightcap Harold had poured before bed. He rubbed his eyes, moaning as he looked over at the clock.\n\n\"Oh Jesus its not even 6. Come on Percy I have more time.\"\n\n\"You know you don't Harold. We need everyone ready to leave by 8, and Coney has to leave in like, 30 minutes.\"\n\n\"Uuuuuuggghhhhh\"\n\nHarold rose shakily to his feet, shooing the tiny alcoholic bird away from the glass and tossing the brown liquid down his throat. He winced, exiting his bedroom with Percy flying close behind. Littered in every corner of Harold's home were strange creatures and objects. Percy flew amongst these characters, whistling his wake up tune and slapping various snoozers on the head with his wing. The tune was soon accompanied by a chorus of groans, as the many misfits reluctantly joined the waking world. Harold moved to the kitchen, turning on several coffee makers, and pulling out various sizes of mugs.\n\n\"Put a little nip in mine Harry, I need some feather of the bird here.\"\n\nHarold tipped an airplane bottle of Baileys into a small teacup, pushing it towards Percy. As he did, a traffic cone waddled towards them, it's plastic squeaking on the linoleum.\n\n\"Hey Coney. The usual?\" The cone tipped forward and back in a nod, and Harold poured some steaming liquid into the cone's mouth. This was followed by a packet of fake sugar and cream, and the cone waddled away with a sloshing sound.\n\n\"Allright so Coney has to be at the construction site soon, most of these other bozos have an hour or so. Where's the Elf? It's his first day at the mall, tell him no smoking today.\"\n\nA diminutive man with sharp ears yawned loudly as he reached up for a mug, a cloud of skunk like smoke emanating from his mouth. \"My name isn't Elf, you racist little seed guzzler. It's Jim.\"\n\n\"I mean yeah but your last name is 'The Elf', right?\" Harold said, passing the coffee down to Jim.\n\n\"Don't give me shit Harry, it's too early for me to embarrass you in front of all these freaks.\"\n\nOne by one, various fantasy creatures, animated pieces of furniture, and other strange fictional creations got their morning beverage as Harold began to cook up a large breakfast scramble. They stood in line, taking a helping, most exiting quickly after to their respective jobs. As 8 rolled around, the last of them filed out the door, and Harold sighed loudly.\n\n\"Allright Perc, I'm going back to bed. Wake me up when everyone is home for dinner.\"\n\n\"What if the landlord drops by? He's came sniffing around last week, but I shit on his head so he went home to shower. What should I do if he comes today?\"\n\nHarold rubbed his tired eyes, calling over his shoulder as he went towards his bedroom. \"Well the head thing seems like a good plan, keep that up.\"\n\nHarold settled back into bed, brushing pixie dust off his pillow and closing his window. He slipped into a deep sleep, and dreamt of a normal life." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Your baby starts crying everytime you leave their room. Finally, you pick up your child and leave the room together. As soon as you step out, you hear crying coming from the room." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "You haven't slept in the past 48 hours. Or so you've thought, you've since lost track. It's been three days since your world fell apart. Your baby hasn't stopped crying ever since your wife left.\n\nYour wife had left you 3 days before. You had feared she would lose it, ever since she had tentatively announced her pregnancy to you. It was bitter sweet. You had tried so long for a child. She had lost so many to miscarriages and had an abortion with a long ago boyfriend at a very young age. The lost babies had always haunted her, even though she would never admit it, you had known they did.\n\nYou were scared. She was your world. And how could you ever care for a baby alone. Through all your cuddling and attempts to feed and sooth your baby, it was all in vein. Every time you left her alone in her room she screamed all over again. She wanted her mother and you feared she knew what you would never admit, her mother was never coming back.\n\nYour first inkling that something was wrong was a week ago. Just a few days after bringing her home, finally. It seemed like that hospital stay would never end, three months too long. You awoke to your daughter, in a fit of rage, starving, wanting a breast to suckle on. Your wife always awoke before you and had fed her the past few days, but today she had neglected her duties. As you carried your screaming child to find her you turned the corner to see her in a trance like state. Standing at the bay window with a thousand yard stare in her eye.\n\nShe was mumbling to herself \"Huff... I'm a failure... My milk is dry...\"\n\nYou are brought back into your hell that is a reality by the shrill screams of your daughter. As you struggle to hear the familiar tone of \"we're sorry the voice mail box you are trying to reach is full\"... All full of messages of you pleading with your wife to come home. You had called the cops two days ago. Your fear of her never coming back was slowly becoming a reality. You went to grab your daughter. She was all you had left.\n\nAs you desend the stairs with her in your arms you hear the sharp screams of crying coming from her room. As you reach the last step... Your world slowly shifts...\n\nBeep ... ... Beep ... Beep ... Beep ....\n\nThe crying slowly becomes sobs ... Beep ... Your eyes are blinded by a harsh light coming from above you. You are cold. As your eyes adjust you slowly make out your surroundings. The white sterile surroundings, remind you very much of the room your wife and daughter were in for there three month stay. As you scan the room the sobs suddenly are recognized.\n\nYour sister is beside you. Her hand is in yours. Clutching it firmly.\n\nYou are drawn aback from the change in reality. Only a studder of \"wh... Whhhaaa?\" Escapes your mangled body. Your sister's face lets a slight wave of relief wash over her. As she confronts your question she is again overcome by anguish.\n\n\"You... Never made it home three days ago\" she blurts out. Again over come by tears.\n\nBeep ... Beep ... Beep ...\n\n\"The truck blew the light, they never had a chance\"... The silence hung in the air... Beep ... Beep...\n\nAs you slip back into the black abyss the sobs become that again of a child screaming." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: Gaming corporations have progressed a lot in the field of interactive gaming. So much that aliens are also getting attracted and are now regular visitors to earth, but slowly becoming angry due to poor policies regarding their stay, treatment and visa issues. They are angry at two countries." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Freaking Iceland. By now everyone from Andromeda to Solaris knew the portal to Earth was hidden under the black sands of Reynisfjara beach; Though to be fair, it wasn't until the mid 2000s that linguists discovered the extraterrestrial origin of the Icelandic language - it does give us pause to understand why it took so long to realize 'Klofalækjarkjaftur' isn't a word any reasonable human would rationally utter without some deep shit, and we mean a long history of extraterrestrial duress and blackmail behind it. For the longest time, scholars thought that the portal was actually bifrost, but turns out, during the second great alien interrogation, bifrost was a real thing, but it was actually just a shoddy advertising campaign for prisms, hated among most alien races. The real unfortunate bit was when we learned that esports had long being dominated by ETs with quickened reflexes and higher cognition, which is why when the second portal was found, within the demilitarized zone between North and South Korea, no one was surprised - literally, North Korea released a statement claiming ownership and longtime family history with the aliens, but everyone knew it was it was the South Koreans the whole time.\n\nAnyways, but now, business with the aliens is BAD. There were a couple incidents within Iceland where aliens would periodically fill geysers with this anti-matter fluid that they excrete and blow up half a town. So now the aliens, for their international video gaming tournaments, had to go through customs and make sure they didn't carry any antimatter- they had to state their cluster, those from Orion were banned outright. It wasn't good at all. And you know what the South Koreans did? They got offended, like seriously offended, when the aliens said they thought it was strange that they would perform so much plastic surgery to their eyes and noses. Apparently there is this intergalactic pact that you aren't supposed to change the way you look to others of your same race, so every shapeshifting device that they have comes with a 'humans-only' mode that can be turned on and off. It has something to do with respect. So they angry at the South Koreans, the South Koreans got offended, and there were some radicals that ended up serving alien sushi to really wealthy individuals, they called it Salienshimi. I know, sick bastards right? Well, the aliens didn't like that. So right now we're in an interdimensional conflict, the portals close and open all the time - it's just a huge mess.\n\nHonestly, you know what I think about them? I like em. They scare off my niece when shes bugging me by shapeshifting right next to her face. I think its a hoot. And the video game tournaments? Let them play. If they can win, let them. Humanity will adapt it always does. Me? No, I'm not an alien I'm just a regular guy. You know I think we could have a thriving relationship if we just opened our borders and tried to understand their ulture. The rest of the world lets them come in and they don't mess with the people of their lands. I feel we just got off to a shakey start. You know, Salienshimi and everything." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You're king, and you suspect your younger brother of plotting treason with the queen. Word gets out after you have him executed secretly, and she shows you that they were going to surprise you on your birthday. She forgives you, but the mob of angry peasants outside aren't as understanding." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A medley of emotions crossed the king’s face. First shock, then sadness, then simple realisation. He had killed his brother for… organising a surprise birthday party. For him.\n\nThe broken king dropped to his knees, not feeling the cold of the castle’s stone. His queen walked slowly towards him, kneeling more gracefully beside her husband.\n\nHis head was in his hands by now, bent forwards with his elbows resting on his knees. He had heard her walk over, but made no effort to respond. He didn’t know what to say.\n\n“I forgive you”, stated his wife.\n\nHe looked at her, confused, disbelieving his ears.\n\n“I forgive you”, she repeated.\n\n“Why?”, he hoarsely responded.\n\n“Because—”\n\nShe paused for a moment.\n\n“Because — I don’t know how not to” she whispered.\n\nThere was a long silence between the two, broken by the sounds of distant shouting from outside the castle gates. The shouting slowly grew louder as it neared his keep.\n\nFinally, a loud bang echoed from the large wooden door near the dismayed monarch. This was immediately followed by a chorus of bangs, unceasing in their ferocity. A mob had formed, and they were out to get the king.\n\nHe raised his head towards the door in front of him. A steely expression formed on his face before he got up and brushed himself off. His queen did the same, looking at him expectantly.\n\nHe stepped towards her, and extended his arm around her in an embrace. She returned the gesture, reaching both her arms around her king.\n\nAs quick as a flash, the king reached to his belt and drew his dagger, plunging it into her stomach. Shock spread across her face, then betrayal, as she looked her husband in the eyes. He withdrew his blade, dropping it to the ground with a clatter.\n\nHe sank with her to the floor, holding her in his arms as blood pumped from the hole in her abdomen. She kept him fixed with a look of questioning and betrayal.\n\nHe began to whisper his final words to her, drawing closer to overcome the sounds of the crowd outside, “Forgive me again, my love.”\n\nHe planted a final soft kiss on her lips, before drawing away and seeing her now empty eyes, devoid of any emotion.\n\nHe gently lowered her body to the ground, and finally stood up, leaving her bloodied corpse on the stone.\n\nHe approached the doors, lifting the heavy log bolting the door shut. The banging on the door ceased as they heard this new commotion going on inside.\n\nDrawing a breath, the king heaved the heavy doors, swinging them open. The townspeople stared at him in shock, pitchforks frozen in their hands.\n\nThe king stepped towards the angered mob, and once again sank to his knees, though this time on the soft, meticulously cared-for grass.\n\nThere was a sob from someone in the crowd, as they saw their queen’s dead form behind the emerging king. Gasps emanated from the mob as they spotted the corresponding blood on his clothing.\n\nThe king reached both hands up to his head, slowly removing his crown. He inspected it for a moment in his hands. After taking his final look, he drew his arm back, flinging the crown as far as possible. It landed near-noiselessly on the grass.\n\nHe bent his head down towards the verdant green below, bowing in deference to the mob.\n\nHe closed his eyes.\n\nAnd he waited." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: You wake up shrunk to 6 inches tall by a mad scientist." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I got over the feeling of \"Oh my god, I'm so small\" after about twenty minutes. That's not to say it was any less amazing to have this new perspective, but the panic, and hyperventilating got me nowhere fast.\n\nSo there I was, six inches tall, swimming in my nightgown. After sliding out of that silk trap, I realized that even the slightest breeze felt like a gale on my naked body.\n\nWhoever had done this had been kind enough to put a special kind of stepladder down from the bed to the floor, along with some post-it notes that I had to stand a body length away from to read properly.\n\n\"Good morning. If you are reading this, the machine worked.\"\n\nI moved down to the next note on the wall.\n\n\"You are the first successful test subject for my miniaturization...\" I had to move to the next one because this guy had no idea how to write small enough to fit on the note. \"Ray! You will notice some changes in your body, namely an increase in appetite and metabolism.\"\n\nTwo more notes was all that was left to read. \"There are some clothes in your new size in the case\" and \"I may be crazy, but I'm not perverted. I will see you soon.\"\n\nThe note didn't lie. There was a small wooden case nearby with a large collection of small clothing. Nothing shocking or risque. Everything looked like it was made for a woman my size. I took out a black knee length skirt and a white halter top and slid them on.\n\nOnce I was dressed, the door to the room, which looked about the size of Fenway Park, opened, and I have to admit, the person I saw wasn't what I was expecting. I was thinking of some wizened old scientist, with Einstein hair.\n\nWhat I got instead was a woman about ten years older than me, with salt and pepper hair up in a bun. She chose to kneel down to my height. \"Let's get you something to eat.\"\n\nOver a milk cap full of strained pumpkin with whey protein powder, she explained everything.\n\n\"I'm Doctor Lorna Kannigher, and I've been working on this project for five years now.\" She said between spoonfuls of fried eggs. \"The prisons in America are overcrowded, and prove to be more about housing criminals than rehabilitating them. Yes, I know that has nothing to do with you. You signed up for scientific testing to make some quick money. But you have helped prove that this is possible.\"\n\n\"You're not what I expected at all.\" I tell her. \"I was thinking 'Aliens?' 'Apocalypse?' I didn't think this was possible.\" Any fear that came from being around Lorna was gone now and we were talking like a pair of girlfriends over breakfast.\n\n\"I know. You know, my colleagues called me mad, not because I believed miniaturization was possible, but because I was a woman in a bio-engineering field. Can you believe those assholes?\" She laughs, and it's probably one of the most beautiful sounds I've heard.\n\n\"Why not shrink them? It would keep them from taking credit for your invention.\" I suggest, letting out a rather indelicate belch. \"Sorry.\"\n\n\"Because I may be a scientist on the verge of a breakthrough, but I still have my morals.\" Lorna shrugs. \"I need to get in writing your feelings right now. Give me a minute to get my clipboard.\"\n\nIn that time, I looked around her office and saw the device that had shrunk me. It wasn't some Tesla-coiled laser, but more like a modified tanning bed. I had to give her credit. That was pretty amazing.\n\nWhen she returned, she turned on an audio recorder. \"All right, let's start with your name.\"\n\n\"Kacey Granite.\" I said for the microphone, liking this more as it went on.\n\n\"All right Kacey, tell us how long it took you to realize something was different.\"\n\n\"About five seconds after I woke up.\" I answered.\n\n\"And how did you feel as a result of the change?\"\n\n\"I was scared at first, but then I felt amazing. I have never had this much energy before, and I feel so alive right now.\"\n\n\"Do you feel as if you would need more time to spend in this form to appreciate it?\"\n\n\"Maybe another ten minutes, assuming you don't have a cat.\"\n\n\"No worries there. Now, Kacey, is there anything you want to say to the scientific community?\"\n\n\"As the first successful test of Doctor Kannigher's machine, all I can say is 'She showed you all. Mwahaha!'\"\n\nLorna turned off the recorder and took me back into the room. She laid out some clothes in my size and set me under the lights. \"It's time to go back to your normal size, give or take a few inches. Statistical margin of error, you understand, right?\"\n\n\"Of course. See you soon, Lorna.\" This time, I was awake for the change, and afte taking off the doll clothes, I was amazed. The change was a long one, but it was painless. There was no cracking, just a feeling like being stretched out.\n\nIt's an odd thing, but once I was back to my normal size, I felt like I still had the energy from being that small. I felt like I could take on the world.\n\nUnfortunately, Lorna told me that that came with the side effect that I'd still need to eat a lot during the day. Oh well. It was a fun experience, and I can't wait to go back to Lorna to do it again." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 600-700 words. Prompt: Having powers doesn't mean you HAVE to be a superhero, and that new gimmicky strip club IS looking for dancers..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Super Sexy\n\nWhen her friends asked her what she was going to do with her new found powers they looked at her like she was nuts, but hey she needed to eat and the hero gig didn't really pay.  \"So what would your stage name be?\" The tired looking manager asked.\n\n\"Uh, Lyric.\" Her answer didn't seem to impress the heavyset man who took down a note.  Lyric thought that once she came walking in looking like she did and having powers that her employment would be a lock.  However this was her second interview.  She had to use her power one three people last time.\n\n\"So, I see you have dance and cheer experience… that's good.\" The manager said. \"Let's discuss this power of yours…\"\n\nLyric looked down and blushed as she pushed some red hair behind her ear. \"It's kind of weird.\"  She said and that got the attention of the manager.\n\n\"Yeah Bruce mentioned it was unique but what exactly are we dealing with?\"\n\n\"Um…\" Lyric stood up and stretched her slim frame.  The manager was fixated on her small breasts as she did. \"It's honestly more impressive if I show you. Would you like a demonstration?\" Her voice took on a sing-song quality.  As her hands tugged at the bottom edges of her tank top.\n\n\"Please do.\" The manager was intrigued. Lyric removed her top with a fluid motion revealing her little tits and her thick hard nipples.  The girl seemed shy a moment earlier but now she walked up to him confidently.  She looked him in the eye as she undid his pants and maintained that eye contact as she slid to her knees and took his cock into her mouth.  Her big blue eyes felt like they were piecing his soul while her soft mouth bobbed along his length.  \n\nLyric broke eye contact to grip his butt and pick up speed.  The manager let out a low moan he didn't think he could last long.  Once she paused it fully down her throat and let a low moan tickle his dick, he gripped her small shoulders and came down her throat as she swallowed.\n\nThe manager shuddered and closed his eyes.  \"I'm sorry miss but as super as your dick sucking is it's not a power, but we might get you a job at…\" He stopped as his eyes opened.  Lyric sat quietly.  Her top was on, and the manager's pants were firmly on, but he had cum in his underwear.\n\n\"Mentally projected hallucinations delivered through an auditory medium.\"  Lyric breathed hard.  \"Vivid daydreams like that can be tiring, but they can compress time and we can do more in dreams than in reality.\"  She giggled. \"Once I used it on a guy I had been crushing on.  I condensed a long weekend into seconds and when the hallucination was over he came multiple times in class.  The exertion of the power made me pass out.\"\n\n\"Do you feel what happens in them?\"  The manager asked.\n\n\"Yeah. Feel, smell, hear, and…taste.\"  Lyric's eyes wandered down for a second.  \"I can project other people too, but I feel what happens to them too.  I gave my boyfriend a birthday gift once, a dream where he fucked my whole cheer squad at one time.  That one put me out of commission for the weekend.  I was sleeping or cumming for most of it.\"\n\n\"So you could do this multiple times in a night right?\"  The manager asked.\n\n\"Yeah, just as long as I don't make the hallucinations too long or add too many people to it.  Also fucking would cause me to cum and then I need a moment to recover.  Blowjobs, handjobs, and dry humping I can do easily.\"\n\n\"When can you start?\"  He asked.\n\n\"Whenever you need me sir.\"  Lyric said with a smile.  \"How about we celebrate?\" The manager closed his eyes and sighed as his pants tented and subsided.  The redhead shook where she stood.\n\n\"You will fit right in.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: A teen God must create a universe from scratch in order to graduate school. His/Her demonstration is happening now... and it's not going well..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Miko polishes his universe giving it the final touches. It's the end of the era and all the gods gather for their graduation exam. One by one young gods gather with their universes in tow. Each hand crafted without outside help or templates.\n\nThe graduation rules are simple: One have a universe, two have a theme, three show how life flourishes under that theme.\n\nOne by one gods go to the front and show off their universe. One had shape shifting robots, another yellow-skinned people. A universe where imagination can manifest as real got a standing ovation. And a weird one where the theme was spirals. Everything about it was spirals. And now it's Miko's turn.\n\nMiko hurries to the front, eager to share his universe. Its theme is small. It's the smallest universe he could make using as much material as possible.\n\n\"Hello, I am Miko, and this is my universe.\"\n\nBang! His universe explodes, expanding as super-heated plasma in all directions.\n\nThe elder god harrumphs, \"You broke it!\"\n\n\"Ah no no you misunderstand, this is intentional! The explosion is on purpose I assure you.\"\n\nThe gases cool forming clusters that gather and form stars.\n\n\"Then what's the theme?\"\n\nThe stars explode, the new elements forming planets.\n\n\"...Explosions. The uh, universe explodes and through multiple explosions it will uh...\"\n\nLarger stars collapse and form black holes.\n\n\"Implode.\"\n\n\"Then is the theme explosions or implosions?\"\n\n\"It's explosions! The implosions are uh. A counter balance because...\"\n\nMatter spirals around the black holes, smashing into each other and exploding into galaxies.\n\n\"Through explosions, matter expands, but through implosions the matter gathers.\"\n\nThe Spiral god yells, \"Hey! Spirals are my thing!\"\n\n\"No no no! This isn't spirals it's uh... Orbits. They are orbiting.\"\n\n\"Miko, the rules state that you must make your universe yourself. No outside help.\"\n\n\"It's a coincidence that spirals and orbits look similar. I assure you!\"\n\n\"It better be. Continue.\"\n\nMiko nods while scouring his universe for signs of life. It's barren! Save for one planet in some remote corner.\n\n\"The uh, life in my universe also follows the theme of explosions.\"\n\nHe shows giant lizards and massive underwater creatures.\n\nThe elder god snatches a T-Rex and toys with it. \"In what way are these things themed around explosions?\"\n\nAn Asteroid soars through the air and explodes on the planet killing most life, the elder god nods, \"As you were.\"\n\n\"Uh yes so life is harsh, anything can explode without warning.\"\n\nThe planet freezes. \n\n\"And the environment can change from explosions! Because of that life is sparse in my universe but hardy.\"\n\nThe elder god smiles, \"I see that is a very interesting universe you made there. Unique.\"\n\nIn a span faster than a god can blink mankind dominates the planet, terraforming it at a rate faster than anything the gods can do. They dig into the earth with explosions, make vehicles that run on explosions and kill each other with precision micro-explosions. They throw explosions on each other in flying machines powered by explosions.\n\nThen they tap into the atom and explode the planet into extinction.\n\n\"You fail.\"\n\n\"Aww!\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: Amendment #4517: Due to Dave's actions, a new rule has been added once again- The introduction of nanotechnology to create a 'magic system' on a primitive world is prohibited. Edit: You may not use bio-engineering either Dave. Edit 2: Or any other advanced technology." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Director Helvin rubbed the bridge of his nose as he looked over the reports. He really wished that he had been allowed to bring a good, strong drink with him. But no, the people in charge thought that alcohol was an unnecessary distraction. They obviously had never met Dave.\n\nThe older man touched a light on the control panel, calling up the communication system. He did not have to look for Dave. By now, he knew where to find the guy's contact information.\n\n\"Dave, come to my office immediately.\" He said.\n\n\"But, sir, I'm--\"\n\n\"Now, Dave.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\" Dave said, sounding crestfallen.\n\nIt was not long before Dave stood before Director Helvin. Dave was a lanky fellow. Not tall, but skinny with arms that seemed just a tiny bit too long for the rest of him. He wore the standard uniform of the science team, although he seemed to have made a few alterations to it for seemingly no reason at all.\n\n\"Dave, do you know what this is?\" Helvin asked, calling up the report in question.\n\n\"Uh, looks like a data report, sir.\"\n\n\"Do you have any idea what this particular report says?\"\n\n\"Not without reading it, sir.\"\n\n\"Think about it, Dave. Why would I call you here about this particular report?\"\n\nDave began to shuffle uncomfortably. \"Oh. Is this about planet J-475 C?\"\n\n\"Yes, Dave that's exactly what this is about. Care to explain?\"\n\n\"Uh...scientific curiosity?\"\n\nHelvin sighed and really wished for that drink again. \"Dave, what does Amendment 4517 say?\"\n\n\"That we can't introduce nanotech to a planet in order to simulate magical abilities?\"\n\n\"Subsection one.\"\n\n\"That we can't use any form of bio engineering to give locals super powers.\"\n\n\"Subsection two.\"\n\n\"Or any other form of advanced technology designed to enhance and or alter the locals.\"\n\n\"That's right, Dave. And what did you do?\"\n\nDave wrung his hands. \"I-I mean, technically, I didn't even introduce any new--\"\n\n\"Dave, you purposely introduced a modified plant to the ecosystem which produced a strongly mutagenic effect.\"\n\n\"It wasn't tech though. And it didn't directly alter the locals.\"\n\nHelvin glared at Dave, who seemed to either under the man's gaze.\n\n\"I didn't know it would have that effect! I swear, I was just trying to give them a more nutritious staple crop, really.\"\n\nHe backed away as the director continued his visual assault.\n\n\"I...I wasn't, I mean, I didn't know!\"\n\n\"Dave.\" Helvin said. \"Fix. It. And then if you ever feel the need to introduce anything to another planet ever again, don't. I don't care what your intentions are. Just don't. Now get out of here and fix your mistake. And then you're being placed on cleaning duty for a month.\"\n\nDave's head hung. \"Yes, sir.\" He said. He turned and slowly shuffled out of the director's office.\n\nDirector Helvin counted to ten, taking a deep breath with each number. Once he had done so, he opened up the command panel and scanned through it until he found Amendment 4517. He activated the edit mode and created a new subsection.\n\nSubsection three: Or introduce anything at all to an ecosystem." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: The room grew quiet as the creature rose to the podium holding the application form. \"Up next on today's agenda, for application to join the Intergalactic Union: the planet Earth. Your proposed contribution to the Union... music? I am unfamiliar with the term... please, present your case.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The human bowed before us. The Kra'kzor were highly skeptical; mammalians aren't as developed and resistant as the humans are, and by comparison, the Kra'kzor were set in the idea that allowing the humans into the Union was a colossal waste of time. However, since he was a minority, the human race was allowed to present their case. The man stared at all of the members of the Union, receiving a variety of emotion. The leader of the Vaingrad was curious, and the warlord of the Arkans were skeptical. Eagerness, suspicion, the human took some time to absorb all of that. \"I am August Davenport, and I was sent before you regarding the Human Coalition's induction to the Intergalactic Union.\" They did their homework. I cleared my gulas and replied. \"And I, Gashan, High Counselor, welcome you into our halls. As you may already know, the Intergalactic Union's induction is based solely on what all species have at best, and how they can contribute to the whole galaxy. Because of that, I need to ask: What is the Human Coalition's potential contribution to the Union?\n\n\"Music, sir.\" The human stated.\n\n\"Mew...zic?\" I tried to repeat the word, but it was foreign. Alien, if you will. A murmur grew among the members as confusion grew. I cleared my gulas again, centering the attention back to the human. \"We are unfamiliar with the word, August Davenport of Earth. Please, proceed.\" August looked behind him as two other humans carted along of what seemed like a large box. It was black, and oddly shaped, something none of the Union has ever seen before. \"Is this where the mewzic is stored?\" I asked, quite confused myself. August nodded, a kind smile painted across his face. \"Oh, no, Counselor, music isn't an object. It's hard to put into words, so it's best if I show you.\" I simply nodded, expectantly. August sat on the bench that they brought along with the box, and opening a small port on the front, passed his hands on the ivory and ebony buttons. August took a deep breath and started pressing the buttons, and a haunting noise echoed through the hall. It was harmonious, yet evoked a sense of sadness, something that I never felt before. Everyone, including the now aghast Kra'kzor had their oculars set on August, as he continued to make the box emit such marvelous sounds. The human deftly pressed one button after another, each one making a different noise, and yet, all of these sounds intertwining with each other in a marvelous tune.\n\nRoughly 6 minutes passed, yet no one dared to stop the human, and when he stopped, finishing it, the halls were left in absolute silence. The leader of the Vaingrad placed her hands in her face, a Vaingrad expression of extreme sadness. In human words, she was crying. After a minute or two, a quick murmur started and ended, everyone nodding in agreement. I took a deep breath, mimicking August, then started, trying to choke up my own feelings. \"The Union acknowledges the contribution of the Human Coalition, and is happy to accept the human race's induction to the Intergalactic Union.\" The humans in the back cheered and embraced each other, in what seemed like an expression of joy. August bowed once again. \"The Human Coalition thanks the Union in the acceptance. I hope we work together to bring what's best from both of us.\" As he turned to leave, I couldn't contain myself. \"Excuse me, Mr. August Davenport?\" He turned back, a little bit confused. \"Can you please explain a bit more about this mewzic?\" August smiled kindly. \"The song that I played was from a human called Beethoven, its name being Moonlight Sonata, movement 1.\" Everyone nodded, extremely attentive to the human. No one would dare to miss another sound that came from them." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: There is no God. There is a sysadmin." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "On November 23, year 2105, most people in New York were going about their usual business, when suddenly the entire city ground to a grinding halt. An enormous face of some ponytailed guy appeared in the sky, and hung there in silence for a good fifteen seconds.\n\nCars crashed, people tripped, and women screamed as everybody was caught off-guard by this event. A priest tightly clutched his Bible, while another closed his eyes, fell to his knees, and started praying. The face in the sky seemed slightly embarrassed by what was happening, which only added to the confusion.\n\nThe apparition finally decided what it wanted to say, and cleared its throat. This caused yet further mayhem as the sound resonated through the entire city. After giving people a few moments to collect their bearings, it spoke:\n\n\"People of Earth!\". Then it turned away somewhere to the side and muttered \"Heh, never thought I'd say that\".\n\n\"I have an unfortunate announcement to make. You are in a simulation. This world started as an ambitious university project of mine, and I am very proud of it. Unfortunately it requires an enormous amount of hardware and power, which I can't afford any longer. I am very sad to say that I will have to shut it down by next year. I've decided to give you some time to wrap up your affairs before this world ends forever\".\n\n\"To prove that I am not lying, and to save some power, I've stopped the weather. You should be able to see how now snowflakes no longer fall, and just hang unmoving in the sky. I realize this might cause some people some difficulty, and I apologize for that.\n\nAlso, there is no god in your world. Unfortunately there is only me. To prove that, I will make every church in the world disintegrate into dust. Praying is useless, make the best use of your time you can. Sorry it had to come to this, and goodbye.\"\n\nPeople stared dumbfounded at the sky for a few moments, and then the panic began. They ran to their homes, and hugged their loved ones. TV indeed confirmed that world-wide the weather was frozen. Water seemed to no longer evaporate, clouds, rain and snow hung unmoving in the sky, churches world-wide had been disintegrated into dust.\n\nJohn looked at his monitors and saw a society self-destructing. People ran around in panic, crime exploded, and wars between landlocked and coastal countries began. Soon, the world was burning.\n\nHe turned to Steve. \"Well, that was quite predictable. See, told you that it would take less than a couple weeks before the nukes start flying. You owe me 20 dollars\".\n\nSteve sighed and got out his wallet. \"All right, all right, you made your point. I guess I was over-optimistic. Now it's my turn to play. First I'll rollback to the year 1 BC savepoint. Then I will let it run, periodically search for religious movements, rewind backwards until finding their origin, and eliminate it. I want to see if after 2000 years of no successful religion, one can arise in the 20th century\"\n\nJohn chuckled. \"Well, that's quite the elaborate idea you have there. You will need to work quite a lot for that experiment, but it sure sounds interesting. I bet you $20 that by 2050 there will be a religion again. Deal?\"\n\n\"Deal.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: As a state executioner you have heard the last words of a hundred condemned men, but only one has kept you up at night. \"You dream of the pit too, don't you. Do you think we'll ever be able to fill it in time?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It’s always the same dream. I’m walking across a barren land punctuated by jagged gray rocks. It’s twilight. An ancient sun has dipped below the horizon but only a few stars shine in the otherwise lifeless sky. The air is still, and the only sound I hear is the crunching of gravel beneath my feet. It’s cold—not so cold that I’m in any danger of freezing to death, but just cold enough that I’ll never be comfortable. And it’s lonely. It’s so damn lonely.\n\nThis place is dead, and has been dead for millions of years.\n\nI stop walking when I realize that but another step would send me hurtling down a rock face into an endless abyss. I look down, and can see maybe a few hundred feet before darkness envelopes whatever is hiding down there. I look to my left, right, and then ahead. The pit extends forever in every direction except behind me.\n\nI stand staring, unable to go back and unable to go forward either. But then though I didn’t command my legs to do so I do take a step forward, and then another. I stop. I hear another sound, like the sound of gravel being crushed under boots only… not. It’s barely perceptible at first, but is soon strong enough so that I can get a precise bearing on where it’s coming from.\n\nIt’s a man, his neck twisted a sickly angle—the mark of broken neck via the hangman’s noose—crawling up the sheer rock face. I take another step forward. This time I slip, but I’m able to dig in with my heels before I slide any further. The man is closer now. His eyes are glassy and skin so pale it’s almost translucent.\n\n“Hadrian,” he says. “The name of a king, but you are no king.”\n\nI kick and try to get up, but I only fall back down again and slide closer to the precipice.\n\n“But there are no lords or kings in the pit.” The man grabs my ankle.\n\n“No!” I scream and try to kick and struggle, but again, my body refuses to obey.\n\n“But there are debts, and of those, you have many.”\n\nThere is the sensation of falling and twilight gives way to darkness. This is where the dream mercifully ends.\n\nMy name is Hadrian, or “Hadrian the Hangman” as I am derisively and alliteratively called. I suppose I do have debts, but I contend they aren’t mine to repay. If you ask me, the death penalty is one of the most useless institutions in this godforsaken “society.” It doesn’t stop a single murderer or rapist from committing their vile acts, and for every noose I slip around the neck of the guilty, a hundred more roam free, have received the mercy of the courts, or even gotten away with the deed entirely. Most of the society, especially those who consider themselves my betters and write the laws and pass sentence upon the condemned, believe me to be a monster. A vengeful people craves vengeance after all, but values its own civility too.\n\nThe most common question people ask me is how I cope with taking the life of another person. I usually don’t answer this because people always have their own reasons for what I do. I’m just following the law, or I have empathy for the victims of crimes, or I actually enjoy killing people. None of those things is the truth, and truth is perhaps more disturbing than any one of those things.\n\nThe next most common question, especially among the more morbid and curious types, concern the words and behavior of the condemned during their last moments. Some cry and beg, some give speeches, I’ve had a few laugh and tell jokes. Most stare at the ground and don’t say anything. But I’ve never been surprised, at least not until tonight.\n\nThe condemned shambles toward me, assisted by two hooded guards. In this society, the guards, not the executioners, wear masks. The condemned is a slight and short man of perhaps 50. I deftly maneuver him over the designated spot on the trapdoor. All the while he looks at me, grinning and with childlike glee in his eyes. I remove the hood from my belt to place over the man’s head.\n\n“Do you dream of the pit too?” he asks.\n\nNever once in my long and undistinguished career have I allowed the condemned to stay my hand at this task. But for that moment, I falter. The man looks up at me again, recognition burning in his eyes.\n\n“Do you think we’ll ever be able to fill it up in time?”\n\nHe bursts out into shrill laughter. I regain control of my faculties, place the hood over the man’s head, and slip the noose around his neck. I make two large steps toward the lever that will spring the trapdoor and pull. Then it’s over.\n\nIt’s been three days hence and I haven’t dreamt of the pit because I haven’t slept. I’ve told myself again and again the man I just hanged is most certainly not the same man crawling up for me from the pit. They looked similar, but they could not be the same person. That is impossible. But I’ve never told anyone about my dreams, not the few people who condescend to speak to me, not anyone. So how did he know?\n\nI wonder if I just imagined it. Lack of sleep is known to cause memory failure, even hallucinations. Maybe I should just lie down. I’m so tired. The man simply could not have said what I thought he said. Besides, as my mother once told me in a simpler time, there’s nothing better than a good night’s sleep." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: You Either Die A Hero, Or You Live Long Enough To See Yourself Become The Villain. As an immortal it is more of a loop." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The people were turning on him. Mark could see that. Oh sure, they'd loved him when he'd arrived at their village and vanquished the evil cyclops that had been ruling over it for the better part of a decade, eating the livestock, defecating near the town water supply, staring angrily at everyone with its one big eye and, worst of all, singing terrible off-key cyclops folk songs at all hours of the night, its loud voice reverberating throughout the village and driving everyone half mad from sleep-deprivation and earaches.\n\nThey had cheered when Mark had challenged the one-eyed giant to duel, and erupted into gleeful whoops and hollers when he defeated it, deftly tossing dirt into its only eye and then tickling it so severely that it first urinated on itself and then passed out from lack of breath. That cylcops are especially ticklish behind their right knee is something that everyone ought to know, in case one shows up in your village, but that many, alas, do not. Mark had lived for almost a millennium and so had lots of time to pick up important trivia like that. He also knew that hydra have the same number of genitals as heads, and grow new ones as necessary to maintain the balance. That piece of information wasn't really as practical as the trick with the cylcops' knee, but he thought it was interesting. And gross. But also kind of awesome.\n\nAfter he had defeated the cylcops the people had demanded that he stay in the village and become their ruler. And he'd agreed because it was rude to turn people down when they wanted you to rule them. He'd also let the cyclops stay, since it promised to stop eating other people's livestock and to keep its bodily functions and singing to the appropriate times and places. It couldn't do anything about the staring, though. It only had the one eye.\n\nSo he had set about ruling the village. He moderated disputes, created appropriate laws and rules, set up a system of taxation and governance, and generally did his best to keep things running smoothly. He liked the people of Four Big Stones hamlet. They were kind and cheerful, not like those rowdy ingrates who lived in the village of Five and a Quarter Big Stones. Those people could go right to hades!\n\nOf course, things being as they are people started to chafe at Mark's leadership. Some didn't like the rule that you couldn't just throw your garbage in the street, you had to cart it down to a garbage pit. They'd always thrown it in the street. It was easier. You got used to the smell after awhile. Some didn't like the taxes, or the fact that Mark had outlawed their traditional new years prank of setting each other's roofs on fire. Sure, some houses burned down, but that was a risk that was worth taking to see the look on your brother-in-law's face when you sauntered up and said \"better get home quick. Something's burning!\"\n\nThe people who remembered the defeat of the cyclops kept their grumbling to themselves, but their children grumbled more and more, tired of being told what to do by someone so old and out of fashion, and frustrated at the prospect of having a ruler who not only couldn't be defeated by the ballot but who didn't seem to be getting older or closer to death and would always be with them. They wanted fresh blood, not to be born and die under the thumb of the same dictatorial regime, even if it was mostly benign. The people started whispering that Mark was an usurper and maybe there had never been a cyclops after all, it was just an old story made up by Mark so that he could take over their town and steal their taxes to spend on frivolous things like road signs. Why would you know road signs? Everyone in town knew what the roads were called. It must be some kind of scam.\n\nSo it was that Mark was washing his dishes after supper one night, about a century after defeating the cyclops, when he saw an angry mob gathering outside his house. They had pitchforks and torches and rocks to throw and it seemed like they wanted to set his roof on fire, and not in a fun prank way.\n\nMark sighed. When it was time to go it was time to go. This was not his first time being overthrown by an unruly mob, and while he couldn’t die that didn’t mean he liked being stuck with a pitchfork or set on fire. He’d done both and wasn’t eager to repeat the experiences. Mark stuffed some clothes into a pack, cinched his coin belt around his waist, and snuck out the back door with a cap pulled tight over his face. On the way out of town he was accosted by the butcher and a couple tanner’s apprentices, who didn't recognize him but urged him to come with them down to the immortal tyrant's house to see just how immortal he was, and whether he could survive a good skinning. Mark just grunted and murmured that he'd be down shortly, then he kept walking. He walked out of town, past the turn to Five and a Quarter Big Stones (a century hadn’t made that town less full of grade a jerkos) and on to the province's main highway. He decided to head to the town of Eight Ponds and a Lake that's Not a Ninth Pond it's a Lake, Really. He'd heard it was being tormented by a sea monster, well a pond monster technically, and he knew that those could be tamed by playing a certain melody he'd learned from a naiad he'd met a few centuries previous. He was sure the townspeople would be appreciative. They might even make him their ruler. It had happened before." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: unbeknownst to you, your whole life has been a role in a movie. One day, the studio starts receiving budget cuts." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The day started off like any other Saturday: I woke up, threw on my running shoes and headed for the door. I lived for the weekends.\n\nAs I opened the door, a strange feeling overcame my body. I felt a chill run up my spine. Confused, I quickly closed the door. I went to the window and looked out - everything appeared the same but something was different. I’d felt this feeling once before - in high school my best friend James worked at a butcher shop and took me back in the meat freezer. It was cold. I’d never felt anything like it before in the real world. Never in my 24 years could I imagine that the outdoors could feel that way.\n\nI went to my closet to look for something with long sleeves. In the back was a running jacket I didn’t remember buying - I probably got it as a gift from my uncle and never wore it. I slipped it on and went back out the door and into the cold.\n\nIt stayed cold for a couple of weeks - the weather man on TV said it was a permanent change but couldn’t explain why. Suddenly around town shops were selling heavier shirts and jackets and hats that covered your ears. They even had fabric you could wrap around your neck to keep it warm. My favorite outdoor restaurants closed down and the plants in my garden slowly wilted away.\n\nMonths passed.\n\nThen one Thursday evening I went to my favorite bar, Clyde’s. I was meeting James to catch up over a drink. I went to the bartender and ordered an old fashioned - whiskey, I had learned, helped warm you up. As I was awaiting my drink, a man approached me and gave me a big hug. Startled, I stepped back.\n\n“Do I know you?”\n\nHe looked at me quizzically. “Are you serious? It’s me, James!”\n\nIt had been a few months since I’d seen James, but this guy was different. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. He dressed like James, but his face was slightly different. If it was James, he’d gained weight. Something else had changed too. I continued to stare at him as the bartender delivered my drink.\n\n“That’ll be $13,” she said nervously as she slid the drink across the bar. I noticed a bead of sweat on her forehead and she was fiddling with her hands. Must be her first day, I thought to myself as I handed over my credit card. (That drink was terrible, for the record.)\n\nI sat down across from “James” and started asking him questions. \"What was our favorite place to go when we were little?\" \"What was the name of the girl he had a crush on in 4th grade?\" He didn’t seem bothered by all the questions, but I was still perplexed. I excused myself to head to the bathroom. I got inside and pulled out my phone. I opened Facebook and pulled up James’ profile. His new profile photo matched the guy at the bar, but all his older photos were deleted. This wasn’t the same guy - it couldn’t be. I slipped out the back.\n\nOver the next few months I noticed lots of change. The food at all the restaurants was getting noticeably worse. My densely populated neighborhood suddenly seemed to be emptying and the people that remained were unattractive and couldn’t hold a conversation - when I talked to them they froze up and awkwardly pulled themselves away from me. Suddenly I had nobody to talk to.\n\nThen one day it happened: I woke up, threw on my running shoes and headed for the door. I opened it to utter chaos. Hundreds of people, mostly wearing black, taking everything from my town. There was no sun - only rows of lights floating in the sky. I asked one of the workers what was going on.\n\n“We’re shutting down,” he said casually. “Funding got cut.”\n\nAs he turned away I was approached by a man in a suit. “Gig’s up,” he said, and handed me an envelope. I opened it and pulled out a check for $480 million." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You had a good life. You're drinking tea watching sunset on a rocking chair and remembering it all." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The neighborhood looks exactly the same. The same families still live here, the same cracks in the sidwalks still catch skateboard wheels, the same potholes in the street, ruining suspensions. Nobody who passes through here wants to stay for long. All they see is another run down ghetto, full of run down people. But they don't know the people here.\n\nThey don't know Ms. Greene down the street in the faded blue house. They don't know about the iced tea she makes for the whole cul-de-sac in summer. They don't know about her son, Ray, who goes to night school for political science, hoping to make permanent changes for people like us.\n\nI tried, God knows I did. I was young and full of hope once. I tried to make my imprint on the world, but life always finds a way to put a hold on your plans, doesn't it? Mama got sick. Had to drop out of school to take care of her. Cancer, skin, to be specific. Lifetime of tending other people's gardens finally caught up to her. I don't mean to sound jaded, if that hadn't have happened I never would have met the love of my life.\n\nMama and I were always close. For a while at least. She would work in the day, and I would go to school. Must have been middle school, round about...damn, 50 years ago now? I'd get home before her and go play with my friends until she got home. We'd clean up before dinner together, wash our gritty hands, clean the dirt from our faces, and sit down for supper. Wasn't always food on the table, but we sat there every night and talked for hours about our days, what we thought about, even making up stories when nothin' interesting happened. She was my best friend, and I was hers.\n\nThen she had to take another job. Waiting tables at some 24 hour cafe. Landlord raised the rent, and her gardening didn't pay enough. Suddenly there was no more nighttime rituals with Mama, she went straight from one job to the other. By the time she got home, I was asleep. Didn't talk to her much, and we drifted apart. Graduated high school, got accepted into college, started packing, then it happened. All my plans went out the window, and I had to refuse my offer, get a job, and help out.\n\nSure I was mad for a while, but since Mama was too sick to work, we started our night time ritual again, with a few tweaks of course. Soon things were like they used to be. I'd help her out of bed, get her to take her medicine, cook dinner, and sit down and talk to her. I missed my best friend. We'd tell stories, laugh, and make jokes until she was too exhausted to continue. After a while, I wasn't mad anymore. My Mama always was the most important person in my life.\n\nWe carried on like that for a few years until.. well.. you know how cancer is. I'm not gonna lie, after Mama died I lost my way. No motivation to do anything. I lost my best friend, and I felt like the world was against me. Worked dead end jobs, moved around a lot, no drive.\n\nThen I found Shayla. Some small town in Missouri, she was my waitress in a cafe. I went there every single time she worked. Finally, I found my purpose in life. We settled down together back in my old neighborhood, and set about living our lives. Those were some of the best years of my life.\n\n20 odd years, and a few kids later, I got the news. Cancer, same as Mama. Turns out it wasn't working in gardens her whole life that caused it. Funny how life works like that. Now I'm too sick to work, and I can tell the end is coming soon. My beautiful wife is sitting next to me as I write this. Sitting on our porch, drinking Ms. Greene's famous iced tea, reminiscing. Everything in my life led me here, and I wouldn't change a single second of it." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: A seemingly tragic story with an overwhelmingly positive ending." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Isaac paced around his room lost in thought. Wondering why it seemed as though he failed at everything he tried to be good at. He was terrible at making friends, playing sports, and getting good grades. He procrastinated his homework which only led to more stress. Isaac felt completely alone, even when he was surrounded by people. His mind wandered to the far reaches of the universe during school, but his teachers would yell at him for not paying attention, bringing his thoughts back to the dull, monotonous class. He watched girls from afar,1 wishing he was the one they thought was cute, or wanted to hang out with. His parents were always fighting, blaming each other for their own problems. The only way to get through the day became feeling nothing and saying nothing. Nothing made him happy anymore. His thoughts drifted to the future. Every day on the radio he heard, “North Korea is developing long range ICBM missiles, Venezuela is plunging into a deeper economic and food crisis, the Earth is warming and we’ll all die soon…”. The negativity surrounded him, he became fearful that he would have to die alongside his parents in a nuclear strike. He worried that the warmed globe would leave the masses starving. Everything he had done and would ever do suddenly became meaningless to him.\n\nIsaac walked to his dresser where he kept his safe. “One, one, two, three,” he mumbled as he opened it. He pulled out his Ruger pistol, and walked over to his bed. He knew that he didn’t have a reason for it. He was never bullied or hurt by anyone, but he was so lost he didn’t know what to do. The chilling realization that his world was ending froze him to the core. He laid back and looked up at the glow-in-the-dark stars he had stuck to his ceiling as a kid. Childhood memories flooded through his thoughts, and he realized how much he hated himself. He didn’t want to leave because he was in pain, but because he couldn’t handle the feeling of disappointment within himself. As a child, the world seemed like a boundless adventure where anyone could do anything; however, now it seemed like a dark, swirling sea pulling him to the bottom while he slowly drowned. The tangy taste of metal made him want to throw up.\n\nIsaac’s mother walked in as he was gathering the courage to pull the trigger. She sprinted to him and smacked the gun out of his mouth. The sound of metal clanging against the wood floor awoke Isaac from his trance-like state of mind. He collapsed on his mother, sobbing into her soft, warm arms. She made him promise that he wouldn’t try anything like that again, and took the pistol away.\n\nThe next morning, Isaac’s mind drifted to his childhood dreams. He went to school he hated, but as soon as he got out, he drove to the nearest pet store and bought himself a brown and white Cavalier King Charles Spaniel puppy. He named the puppy max. He texted the one girl he knew, asking her if she wanted to meet up and hang out with him and the new puppy. She was hesitant at first, but eventually, after getting to know Isaac and seeing pictures of max, she agreed. Isaac knew that life wasn’t perfect, nor was the world. His parents would still fight and the world could still end. However, he decided that when he died, he wanted to feel okay with what he’d done with his life. He didn’t want to stop when he still had so much to live." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You are a simple organism living inside a lab.You don't know what's a 'Timmy' is but these scientists seem to enjoy calling you that." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Judging by the rate of my metabolism, five light cycles should have passed since I awoke from cryo-shutdown. However, there is no difference in light or temperature in my surrounding. Perhaps I am in a cave, but the conditions are far better than at any point before the shutdown. The liquid surrounding me contains a surplus of nutrients, vitamins and amino acids, while the temperature stays constant at a level slightly above the body temperature of mammals. I don´t know how long I slept but my surroundings have changed drastically, and new information is required.\n\nApproximately seven cycles. For the first time since awaking there was light. The medium around me increased slightly in acidity, the fast rate of this happening led me to believe that I am only in a small reservoir. But before this could cause even the slightest inconvenience for me, another strange set of circumstances occurred. Any liquid was drained from my surroundings, only to be instantly replaced with some unfamiliar kind of salt water. After this was repeated twice, I was again set in a liquid as rich as the first one and left to my own devices in the darkness.\n\nApproximately Twelve cycles. I could grow enough to fill my surroundings completely. They are as small as I feared, but also curios in two ways. My Prison, for the lack of a better description, is perfectly symmetrical with a round ground area and short walls perfectly perpendicular to the ground. Further the walls and the ground seem to be made of an organic material. But I know of no plant or animal that would produce such patterns and I am currently not able to digest them. When I had filled my cage to completion, I was attacked be an incredibly high amount of an enzyme that destroyed any bounds I had both with the surrounding material as well as between parts of myself. The current separated my elements which ended in sets of prisons identical to which I started, but they luckily stayed close enough that communication was not hindered greatly. While most elements of me survived this procedure, some seem to have been either destroyed, deactivated or removed to far for communication. While I ended again in the nutritious solution, I have to come up with a plan to defend myself or I am completely at the mercy of whatever outside force is orchestrating this.\n\nApproximately Twenty-seven cycles. I started by growing to the top of the wall, but any strong growth was discovered and removed. I therefore only grew tendrils of elements along the walls, keeping than as thin as possible. My attempts were still foiled. While it does seem like the separation event, which happens every five cycles is orchestrated by a mammal, it has engulfed itself in a thin layer of an unknown material quite like that of my prison. It seems these beings have changed quite since the cycles when I spread through entire caverns and the great frost decimated my elements.\n\nApproximately Fifty-two cycles. I found out something about that the small layer of biomaterial surround the being that separates my elements and renewed the liquid in my prisons. It was degradable by acid. A small amount was enough for me to burn a whole into these defences and attach myself to the inside of these strange appendix. Below the unknown biomaterial the creature seems to be very similar to beings I have met in the past, only that any hair seems to have been replaced by this safety film. I will start growth on this new host.\n\nSeventy-seven cycles. Growth on the host and in the set of prisons is both going incredibly well. I could extract relevant information by growing in key organs of the host. He and other mammals in his community are actively trying to improve my growth. It will apparently increase their standing in their tribe. When talking with other mammals the host calls me sempercresendium omnivoryphyceae. But when he is alone with the parts of me in the geometrical prisons, he calls me Timmy.\n\nI am quite fond of this. Such an irrational attachment will be easy to manipulate, when producing the right hormones. Soon I will expand more than I ever have." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Despite all warnings, you've gazed into the abyss. It gazed back at you. It was love at first sight." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Once, our ancestors looked up to the sky in wonder\n\nThey looked up in awe\n\nThey looked up with sheer determination to reach out and touch the stars\n\nThe reality was far from it\n\nAs the humans ventured into the stars, they were met with horrors beyond their understanding. Terrifying creatures and phenomenon that seemingly disobeyed every law of physics the humans had thought up\n\nAnd thus the rule was born.\n\nNo venturing beyond the solar system\n\nNo further exploration or research\n\nNo gazing at the infinite abyss.\n\nThey said that people went mad if they broke the rule. Horror stories of people breaking out into psychotic episodes were commonplace in the station. Being the outpost farthest from home, we were closest to the infinity of space. To whatever was calling to us.\n\nI never really cared about any of it\n\nI really didn't care about much actually\n\nMy earliest memory is hiding out on the roof, staring at the stars as my ancestors once did. Except, I was only trying to tune out the sounds of my parents fighting downstairs. Trying to forget the horrors of my day. Trying to steel myself into going through the same shit day after day\n\nDon't gaze into the abyss, they keep telling us\n\nBut they don't get it\n\nFor me\n\nThe stars were only an escape\n\nThis job was only an escape\n\nDay in, day out, I went on with my job\n\nDon't gaze into the abyss, they kept telling us\n\nWhy would anyone want to? I asked myself. Whatever horrors were out there couldn't be worse than the monsters on earth. And I had enough for a lifetime\n\nDon't gaze into the abyss, they kept telling us\n\nI would never. I have better things to do. And all I want is to be left alone.\n\nDon't gaze into the abyss, they kept telling us\n\nThey do say it quite a lot. Whatever, I'm not curious. The young scientist dude was the latest victim apparently. Too bad. I like him. He seemed nice.\n\nDon't gaze into the abyss, they kept telling us\n\nI kept thinking that if it was something so troubling, we should all know about it right?\n\nMaybe, just a peek\n\nWouldn't hurt\n\nNot the same as gazing\n\nGazing implied a certain amount of time\n\nThe magnificence of space was quite something. The deep, primal urge to respond to the unending, unknown, infinity took my breath away.\n\nAs I looked at it, I knew I had discovered something far greater than me, and for just a second I knew the abyss looked back\n\nThey found me\n\nI don't know how\n\nI tried to be discrete while stealing a small vessel\n\nI had to go out there\n\nI had to respond to the call\n\nThe abyss, the space was beckoning\n\nI had to go.............\n\nI'm not going crazy. I just need to get out there. To explore the stars. It's in our DNA. Our ancestors would have wanted the same. The others were right. I just need to find them. I need to get out there. Far beyond our stupid world, to experience the one thing I have truly ever loved\n\nI'm not going crazy....." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: In a surprising turn of events, the Devil has sold his soul to you" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“No No NO!” I screamed in frustration as I plucked another wrong string, letting a discordant twang loose from my acoustic. My high school talent show was less than a week away, and I could barely get through the first few notes of Jeff Buckley’s “Hallelujah”, let alone perform the entire song in front of the school.\n\nWhy did I tell Sarah that I knew how to play, I thought, cursing myself. I knew why though. This is that asshole Jimmy Kleppel’s fault - putting me on the spot in the lunchline, “What’s your talent going to be, David? Eating an ear of corn without fucking up your braces?”\n\nGoddamnit. Now I’m going to look like an even bigger loser than everyone already thinks I am. And a liar on top of it.\n\nI strummed the first note again, but my left hand was shifted by a full fret. “Shiiiiit! Shit shit shit!” I yelled, “I’d sell my goddamn soul to play like Buckley. Hell, I’d sell it to play like a Jonas brother at this point.”\n\nAll of a sudden, an acrid red smoke fizzled into the air out of nowhere, it billowed bigger and bigger, stinging my nostrils and eyes. I began to choke and cough. I tried to wave the smoke away, but it only grew thicker, to the point that I could feel its chalky texture on my tongue.\n\nThen all at once the fizzling stopped, and the smoke cleared as if sucked away by an industrial vacuum. As my tears dried, I was shocked to see a figure standing before me.\n\nThe first thing I noticed was how tall he was. He was hunched to fit under my 8 foot ceiling. I quickly realized, however, that this was the least of his peculiarities. For starters, he was quite sunburnt, like he had passed out on Panama City Beach during spring break. He had a longish nose that ended in something of a pig’s snout, with a pencil thin mustache hung below it. His eyes were black marbles, such that you couldn’t tell where he was looking, but somehow knew they were boring through your soul. Oh, and he had goat hooves where his 10 toes should be.\n\nI stared with mouth agape. Words had escaped me, and even simple stammering proved too difficult. My guitar slid off my lap and landed with a cacophonous crash.\n\nThe figure looked down at guitar, then up at me. “Well that sounded better than anything you’ve managed to play all night.”\n\n“Aa.. are you,” I muttered.\n\n“David Hasselhoff? No, but I do get that a lot,” he said in a snidely voice. “I am the king and queen of darkness. The lord of anarchy, the eater of souls, and the world’s largest promoter of Hick-Hop music. I am, the Devil.”\n\n“Wha.. wha.. wha.. wha..?” I articulated.\n\n“I’m here to make you a proposition,” he said, nudging my guitar with his hoof. “It seems you are in quite a predicament. In five days, your entire school, including your beloved Sarah, is going to realize what a complete dud you are with this guitar.”\n\nObviously he spoke the truth, but that particular concern had sailed when the red smoke appeared. Now I just wanted to get this goat beast out of my bedroom before Mom called me down for dinner.\n\n“Wha.. what? Is it?” I managed to force a couple words out.\n\n“Oooh you must have heard the stories. You know that I can satisfy your deepest desires. Annnnnd, you also probably know that I’m a great collector of souls,” he said, pulling at his mustache.\n\n“So.. you want my soul? And you’ll teach me how to play guitar in return?” I asked, still bemused.\n\n“Clapton himself couldn’t teach you how to play guitar, boy. Like I said, you’re a dud.”\n\n“So then what do I get for my soul? How will I get through the talent show?”\n\n“What do I get for my soul?!” he mimicked in a whiny voice. “It’s always about you humans, isn’t it? Well, you’re in luck, because today it actually is. I CAN get you through the talent show. But, there’s a catch.”\n\nA catch? Isn’t there always a catch when the Devil’s involved, I thought. I must really be in trouble that he’s announcing it. I stared hard at him, waiting for “the catch”.\n\n“Dear boy, I don’t want YOUR soul,” he said, pausing for dramatic effect. “I want to sell you MY soul.”\n\n“Uhhhhh, what?” I asked, more confused than ever. “What would I do with that?”\n\n“With the Devil’s soul?! I’m the most powerful being this side of the Earth’s crust and you don’t know what you’d do with my soul?!” He asked, following it up with uproarious laughter.\n\n“No. I don’t.”\n\n“Well… you could… you could play the… fiddle,” he said, trailing off so that I could barely hear.\n\n“Sorry, did you say ‘play the fiddle’?”\n\n“Among many, many other things! But yes, the fiddle. Haven’t you heard the song? The Devil Went Down to Georgia?”\n\n“Yes... you were in a fiddle battle.”\n\n“Exactly. Do you like it? The song?”\n\n“Uh, it’s OK I guess.” I said, having no idea what he was getting at.\n\n“Well I DON’T!!” He boomed, erupting in a ball of flames. He took a deep breath and calmed himself. “I’ve been trying to escape that stigma for decades… that I’m this fiddle playing fool who romps around challenging humans to fiddle-offs.”\n\n“So…”\n\n“So you take it! Take my soul and everything that comes with it - including my fiddle prowess. I’m done with it!”\n\n“Do I keep my own soul?”\n\n“Sure, whatever.”\n\n“How much?” I asked.\n\n“$10”\n\nI fished around in my pockets and pulled out a crumpled wad of singles. “I only have $4.”\n\n“Fine,” he sighed. And all at once he snapped the bills out of my hand and evaporated in a puff of smoke.\n\nI rubbed my face, wondering what in the hell just happened. I picked up my guitar to see if the Devil’s soul offered anything in that regard. I held my breath and strummed a chord. It was wrong in more ways than I could count. Nope.\n\nI sighed and resigned myself to my new fate. “Well, I hope Sarah digs fiddle music…”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: The universe is actually diverse and full of life. However, humanity committed an unforgivable war crime thousands of years ago and was sentenced to 100,000 years of isolation on a remote planet. The time is up and you're a historian discovering the war crimes your ancestors committed." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The transmission had been clear enough: Your sentence is complete. You are free to go.\n\nNobody had any idea what that meant. NASA said it came from outside the solar system. It was played on a repeated loop for nine days in every language on Earth - and one additional language. The new language sounded similar in parts to several others. The linguists finally said is was a proto-Indo-European mother tongue. Everyone took to calling it Piemt, after the acronym for it. That one discovery helped me unlock the codex that had stumped generations of archaeologists and historians before me.\n\nThe codex sat in a drawer in the basement of the University of Prague. When I arrived there, the codex clearly hasn't been touched in decades. I only even knew about it from a footnote in a three page article in a little-read journal from 1898. The world has forgotten this thing existed.\n\nThe codex was a series of four stone tablets, roughly two feet by eighteen inches. The language was startling close to several others by also agonizingly distant. Once I heard the \"Free to go\" transmission, I knew that I had just been handed the key.\n\nI translated the codex over the next week. It was a detailed account of humanity's ancestors. We had been convicted of a crime and sent to Earth like a penal colony.\n\nThere was one word I couldn't translate though - the actual name of the crime. There was no word in an language I knew of that was even close. I called and emailed a few linguists to see if they had any ideas.\n\nSeveral of the linguists said to stop wasting their time with made up words. A few other simply ignored me. Finally, a retired linguist in Arizona wrote me back. He said it was one word: primitive-lover.\n\nI asked what that meant and if it was some kind of taboo. He said he'd been chasing references to that word off and on for his entire career. The best definition he could tease out was some sort of unhealthy obsession with a primitive low-tech lifestyle with overtones of it being some kind of perversion. Most of the references he'd seen had used the word the way we would use \"pedophile\" or \"rapist.\" It carried a lot of baggage.\n\nThe rest of the story fell into place. Our ancestors had decided to forgo some kind of technological superiority and were condemned for that. They were punished by someone (the codex called them, roughly, lawmakers) and sent to Earth.\n\nWas this the foundation for most of the world's \"golden history\" myths? Atlantis, Eden, Shambhala? There really was a place that would have seemed outright mystical to our ancestors when they heard about it. We were literally kicked out of paradise and cast down to Earth.\n\nOnly now, paradise was offering us a way back in. We had done our time and were free to go. Our people were cast out millennia ago. Given how quickly our own technology advances, how far ahead of us will this new paradise be?\n\nThe message repeated for nine days then fell silent. We watched the skies for ships. None came. We listened to the heaven for more messages. We found only silence. We asked ourselves what to do.\n\nIt finally occurred to us that we were prisoners being released - not family members being welcomed back home. When a human prison releases a criminal, they open the front gate and let them out. The prison doesn't see to their needs after that. We would not be seeing any help from the stars. If we wanted to rejoin those who expelled us, we would have to arrange our own ride." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: I may not have been born as a human, but I'm not going back anytime soon. Don't get me wrong, I could still morph into any living creature in existence, and a couple more. But as a wolf I'd have a wolf's brain, and what use are bear claws when I can just use a handgun?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I may not have been born as a human, but I'm not going back anytime soon. Don't get me wrong, I can still morph into any living creature in existence, and a couple more. But as a wolf I'd have a wolf's brain, and what use are bear claws when I can just use a handgun?\n\nI didn't know how stupid I had been, until I was smart. A deer does not understand what a tool is. Not only does it not understand what a tool is, but it lacks the fundamental conceptual thoughtspace to imagine some function that it does not know about. When I became human so many things that I could never have imagined suddenly seemed obvious to me.\n\nI use the word 'suddenly' quite liberally here. I became a human baby that grew into a human adult. I was nurtured, taught and learned. Indeed it was a startling realization to me that everything every adult human knew it had not known at some point in its life.\n\nI became engrossed with learning. I had a talent for it, you could say. Since I could morph into any creature I could morph into any human - so I morphed parts of my brain into the most famous of thinkers. They had to be alive and in my proximity for it to work the first time. I spent years travelling the world, visiting the most famous conferences, collecting the samples from the greatest minds of our generation.\n\nAfter that I could remember them on a genetic level and call them back up where needed. Of course I still needed to learn just like they had - genetics wasn't enough. Decades of learning with the right brain. Knowledge, ultimately, had become a reason for existing.\n\nThey did not know about me, I realized one day. My niche of copying other people down to a biological level had gone undetected. It was a startling realization. I knew, obviously, that the scientific method was merely one ongoing attempt to understand the world. But I felt like if they had missed such an obvious thing as myself, how could they be trusted at all? Over time I started to develop a sense of distaste for human science.\n\nThe pleasures of fictional works had always eluded me. Although I appreciated the ability to imagine what we didn't know - that fundamental piece that the deer had missed - I had never understood the point of fictional works beyond that. But reaching the limit of what scientific knowledge could offer, I veered off course.\n\nIt was a strangeness to the imaginary worlds of humanity. They dreamt of utopia but lived in nightmares. They spoke of heroes but were petty themselves. In their works humans were ambitious - in reality they were greedy. The agency of mankind - sloth in truth. Inevitably, a fundamental shift in my way of thinking about humans.\n\nI had envisioned humans as the greatest evolution on Earth. No other species ever came close. They had been the source of knowledge, the source of ethics. However, in their fictional works, they could imagine that which they could not become. They were flawed. They were limited in their thinking, in their biology.\n\nBut I had no such limits. Just like a deer could not imagine what it couldn't imagine, I realized at last that I had limited myself. The old me could not become what I could not become. Except thanks to humans, I could imagine that I could. I could strive to be more than human.\n\nAny transformation carried risks - cancers, flawed biological material and other byproducts. Becoming something that did not exist yet was even more difficult, more costly. Even all the knowledge and all the imagination of humanity could only reach so far. I will not say it was not painful. I will say that you, a human, cannot imagine the pain. But it was possible.\n\nEven to be more than human - posthuman - I understood that humanity's concept of self had limited me. As I strived to become more than human, I did so from a starting point of humanity. But it was not enough to be slightly more. It was not enough to be a great deal more. These things were stepping stones on a path set by humanity. A path which I must abandon or be a slave to.\n\nTo think of humanity not as the artist holding the chisel, but the clay being shaped. They were not inventors of thought, only its temporary participants. There, at long last, I gained my final ambition. I knew what I must become. Even humans, in a hundred thousand years, barely understood the concept. But they would not define me. Indeed, perhaps it could be said that I would finally become self-defining.\n\nI will not say it wasn't difficult. I will not say that humanity had not helped me become. Like a bird leaving the nest for the first time with a leap of faith, I left my biological form behind and reached outwards. There my recollection ends, this story of mine is yours and sized in bites to consume. A blueprint, perhaps, for others like me that follow.\n\nAnd I became God." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Everyone must pass an examination, physical and mental, in order to be approved to reproduce. You've been granted permission, but your SO hasn't." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They laid on their sheepskin bed in the dark, breathing intently and anxiously. Tonight was the night Joseph had been waiting for for years and years. Tonight he became a father. Tonight he would grant himself his next of kin and begin the next steps of his life. Together, they would raise a beautiful, successful boy.\n\nThey laid in the darkness for what seems like eons. Both breathing heavily, both so unsure of what to do next, the energy in the air crackling around them like sparks from a fire. Joseph had had enough. It was time.\n\n\"I went to the temple yesterday.\"\n\nJoseph kept moving, sliding a hand down his wife's thigh, beginning to lean in for a kiss, a connection, a touch.\n\n\"I went to the temple in Rome yesterday.\"\n\nJoseph stopped. \"Why?\"\n\n\"Well, when I spoke to the Rabbis originally, they...\" She paused. Why was she pausing? What wasn't she telling him?\n\n\"They said I wasn't fit to bear child.\"\n\nThe words hung in the air, stale and cold. Joseph felt the hardness of his bed underneath him, heard the wild birds cawing outside into the night.\n\n\"Those bastards,\" Joseph bellowed. \"Who are they to assume you can't bear children! Based on what? On their holy word? What did they even do?\"\n\n\"I don't know!\"\n\n\"But...why didn't you say anything? Why wouldn't you tell me this?\"\n\n\"I was afraid! I know how much you-\"\n\n\"You were afraid? I wanted a child! I was ready to-\"\n\n\"WAIT! I haven't finished yet!\"\n\nJoseph stopped and waited. Branches outside his window cracked. The moon slid slowly across the night sky, illuminating his wife through the bitter darkness of their room.\n\n\"When I went to Rome, I had...a vision. A Pharisee was there, he had no idea about my prior examination, and he said it wasn't to be ignored.\"\n\nJoseph sat up in his bed and looked at his wife. There was still information not being shared with him, secrets still left to be uncovered.\n\n\"I ask you in the name of our marriage,\" Joseph barely managed to let the words slink out of his throat. His pain wasn't allowing him the energy he needed. He felt hollow inside. \"What are you talking about.\"\n\nJoseph looked into his wife's eyes and saw an immense amount of fear in them. He realized she had no idea what was going on either, that she was just as scared, just as let down by the idea of not having children on their own. Joseph would have nobody to carry on carpentry with him, nobody to teach prayers to, no young body to yell at to go to bed each night.\n\nJoseph fell into his wife and they embraced. Time stood still, and he wept into the shoulders of his wife with mighty heaves and booming roars. Tonight they lost a child they never had, and weren't even allowed a funeral.\n\n\"In the vision, God told me he would bear me a child anyways.\"\n\nJoseph sat up, and looked at his wife. He wasn't sure what that meant.\n\n\"God told me I would bear his child, and that I wasn't to worry.\"\n\n\"Mary, I love you, but-\"\n\n\"Joseph, I love you too. Give it time with me. I promise you, God was with me, and promised me a young healthy boy. You'll have someone to join the carpentry business yet.\"\n\nJoseph contemplated the gravity of his wife's words. He knew she wanted a child too. It's why they moved to Galilee. Fine. He would trust in her this once. He will listen to his God, and trust in him to deliver what is promised. Joseph laid down, and shut his eyes. The birds cawed in mourning, the branches creaked their sorrows, and Mary slept well that night, the seed of a baby boy already firmly in her womb.\n\nEDIT: Names were all wrong" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You are a street magician who becomes enrolled into a magic school. Turns out it's a real magic school for real wizards." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Welcome to the school Sebastian!” Professor McCarthy shook my hand as he dragged me into the halls of every single cape wearing individual I could see. Ok this was getting ridiculous now, I had just applied for this Online Course on “Magic and It’s Wonders” on Futurelearn, thinking that, “hey, you know what? This could help my career”, but after completing the test on it, I get a letter of invitation to travel not only from England to the mountains of Switzerland, but now I’m seeing a lot more people here than I expected. Why did I go this far? I’m still questioning that to myself.\n\n“For every new student, please perform a piece of your personal brand of magic!” He sat me atop of everyone on a high stage and a chair, seeing a bunch of “students” some looked like they were in Senior Years after looked like they were from the Fourth Grade; one was staring daggers at me like I stole their apple, witch, no way in hell they would call each other Wizards and Witches here.\n\nI than held stage fright for a moment before grabbing my top hat that I had been wearing from the travel here from the airport, I remembered it had an inbuilt bunny that pops out; surely they’ll figure it out, various peoples would know this trick, it’s a classic! I got out my wand, waved it majestically, tapped the top of my hat with elegance like a ballerina and placed it on the table; remembering to tap the button that released the bunny conveniently where no one could see it.\n\nThan, “Boom!” I shouted out as the obvious fake bunny popped out of the hat, with crappy confetti to go along with it. Silence for a moment. Yeah, knew I was going to get that reaction, than one of them started clapping, then I realised that Professor McCarthy was clapping at me, everyone was clapping. What the hell? Had they never seen this trick before?\n\n“Fantastic demonstration of illusion Sebastian! You’re will be just fine within that branch of our school. Please sit down in the crowd!”\n\nI grabbed the hat and stuffed the fake bunny back in, leaving the confetti behind, this was crazy, they must have known that trick, it had been a classic. As I sat down on the bench, a boy with short black hair and green eyes across me tapped me on the shoulder, he didn’t look convinced; good, a realist in this crazy place.\n\n“Show me another illusion.” He commanded.\n\nI showed my thumb and did another classic trick, pulling out the series of colourful paper from a fake thumb. He looked unimpressed and slowly clapped at me, before pulling out his wand and turning the cup, just like I saw it, into a bird, grabbing it than turning it back into a cup. I stared at him and he leaned across me.\n\n“You’re full of shit, you know that?”\n\nOf course I know that. I’m a magician. My job is to be full of shit and be applauded for it.\n\n“Yes, you’re right, how about you teach me?” I responded, putting my hands together like a moustache twirling mastermind.\n\nThe boy chuckled and put his hands out.\n\n“It’s Maxwell O’Brien, stick with me and you might become a second-grade Illusionist.”\n\nI don’t know what that is but I’ll be damned if I wasn’t going to accept that offer. I shook his hand professionally and smirked at him.\n\n“Sebastian Wordsworth. Pleasure to meet you.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Growing up in Southern Appalachia, you've heard the stories of \"The Confederate on the Mountain\" just above town. You've regarded these as mere legends, considering the Civil War was 200+ years ago. Until one day you see a gaunt man in a tattered grey uniform on a cliff." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Smoky Mountains lived up to their name that day as the fog hung low among the bare, twisted trees. I had just placed on my boots to go out and split logs when I heard the distant sound. It was a high pitched quaver, that sounded like a banshee's cry echoing in the valley. Crows that were once placid in the trees sprang up and flew out of sight. The sound struck fear into my heart, it was a sound I had heard only in recordings and videos of Klan and White Supremacist rallies. It was The Rebel Yell, the battle cry of the Confederacy.\n\nImmediately, my mind went to the legend I had heard growing up: The Legend of the Confederate on the Mountain. The story told of a Confederate soldier, wounded from battle, climbing up a small mountain to escape the battlefield and heal so that he could fight again. He spent two days in the elements in the middle of the winter, 1865, where he died of exposure. But the legend has it that he vowed to avenge the Lost Cause of the South, and kill anyone under the Yankee flag.\n\nI know my imagination tends to run wild, but I could not help but think of that legend as the sound of the Rebel Yell came closer. It must be a prank I think to myself. Maybe someone was angry that I bought this land to build my new home on. Maybe there was a neighbor who liked shout the Rebel Yell in the woods. My rational side took over, and I stopped shaking and my heart beat slowed down. I was going to continue on my day. It was cold and I needed more wood for the fire.\n\nPlacing the first log on its side atop a stump, I lifted the ax over my head and brought the blade down through the log for a perfect split. That's when I heard the Rebel Yell again, so loud it sounded as if a Confederate yelled it right in my ear. I spun my head around and saw nothing. I must be scaring myself. It must be in my head. I shook it off and tried to pull the ax from the stump, but it wouldn't budge. Then I heard the yell again, as if it was coming from inside my own mind. I let the ax handle go and covered my ears and crouched in pain.\n\nThat's when I saw him, a pale, gaunt man with a long, ragged beard and black eyes, wearing the battle grays of the Confederacy. His uniform was ragged and torn, edged with the blood from the gaping wound that passed through his abdomen. He carried a rifle with a bayonet mounted on the barrel.\n\nHis eyes narrowed on me and looked up to the American flag I had flying from my front porch. His mouth opened wide and the sound of the Rebel Yell filled my head once again, and I was paralyzed with fear. A frigid wind rushed toward me as the Confederate pointed his bayonet at me and charged. My boots sunk deeper into the mud. I could not yell and I could not scream. I just felt colder and colder as he approached until the searing hot pain from the bayonet entered my abdomen.\n\nThe Rebel Yell stopped and I felt colder than I have ever felt in my life. No limb would move for me, no finger would move for me. The Confederate stood over my body and said \"The South has risen again.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: Growing up as a foster child in a family with magic powers that are heritable, you finally accepted that you will never participate in this part of their life. But on your 17th birthday you also develop powers." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Mikhail has always felt warmth and love from his family, he never questioned his existence but he always knew his place. PD, that's what he was. A being born without any magical power; more specifically he was born without Primah, the magical essence that was responsible for the production of magic power with in the body. \n\nThe term PD though uninspired, was simply a point of fact. PD's were Primah deficient, which meant that they would never be able to use magic. PD's were ostracized at first during the pre war Era, but they managed to bolster their ranks and raised their importance in society over the last two centuries. Although there had been an improvement in the way they were treated by the Magical society, they were still considered to be of lower standing and would be looked down on by higher society members and high ranking families. \n\nThere was an uproar in the magical society when the noble house of Gremzor adopted an infant PD. It was strange for various reasons; the Gremzor house already had three children who were gifted with incredible magic power, they were a prestigious family and famous for being pioneers in magical research and technology development. It was unfathomable for such a noble family to sully their house with a PD. \n\nThe head of the Gremzor house and his family ignored society and sheltered their new son from their prejudice. They treated him as their own flesh and blood, and for the first few years of his life he never knew that he was different. \n\nMikhail watched as his older brothers and sister performed miraculous feats; their techniques, chants and application, he studied all of it. He hoped that one day he would be able to master these and impress his family with his hard work and talent, unfortunately he was never able to reproduce anything. At first he felt dejected and cried a lot, if not for the support of his family he might have slipped into despair. It was then that his parents explained why he was different from his siblings, the reason that he could not inherit their power was because he wasn't related by blood, he also lacked Primah and thus regardless of how hard he worked he couldn't produce the essence of magic power. \n\nHe was eight years old when he discovered that he was a PD and adopted, but he never stopped observing and imitating his family's use of magic. It wasn't because he was delusional, he knew it was impossible, yet something inside him beckoned him to persevere. And so he did, until his first year of adulthood.\n\nSeventeen marked the age of independence, one would be considered an adult and would be able to start working in society. Mikhail started his birthday with a routine workout that would end with him performing a chant to produce fire with a sequence of hand movement that would expand air. There was no particular reason why he did these two together, or rather the choice was subconscious due to the fact that his elder brother and sister were fond of these spells. \n\nWhen he first started this routine he would feel super energetic due to the effects of the physical exercise, so after the magic portion was completed he would often continue his training for an hour or two. But as time went on he began shaving time off his second workout, five or so minutes at a time until he stopped doing it all together. He didn't understand why his stamina was reduced, he attributed it to him exhausting himself during weight training. He put all his efforts and energy into his workout so he didn't particularly mind having a break in between. \n\nDuring this particular workout, when it came down to the chant and hand sequence, he felt an immediate drop in his energy almost to the point of fainting. He staggered slightly and collected himself, he had stopped half through the chant. He took a deep breath and utterly last three syllables.. INFERNO.. \n\nAn enormous explosion erupted destroying everything within a two hundred meters radius. When the dust settled what appeared was a seven meter tall tornado of flames scorching the very ground it was summoned on. Although the inferno was behaving like a typical tornado by sucking in and disintegrating its surroundings, it wasn't moving beyond its point of origin. The reason for that was due to Mikhail standing at its center, bewildered and terrified he had no idea what to do. \n\nHe tried touching the flames and to his surprise the fire warped away from his hand, he didn't feel uncomfortable dispite being surrounded by searing heat. He took a step forward and the inferno moved with him, it was similar to a repelling magnetic force. He started panicking because he was trapped and couldn't move without bringing hell with him. \n\nAt that moment.\n\n\"Dispell!\" a Woman's voice shouted. \n\nThe tornado of flames dispursed instantly as if it was never there. Mikhail looked ahead of him and saw who it was that dispelled the inferno, of course he already knew who it was from her voice, there was no mistake. \n\n\"Mother!\" he cried out. \n\n\"Sweet heart are you alright?\" the woman asked. \n\n\"Yes I'm fine, I'm just.. I don't know what happened\" he replied while shaking nervously. \n\n\"It's alright, there's no need to worry\" she said with a warm smile. \n\nMikhail felt a little apprehensive by her understanding atmosphere. she should be in as much shock as he was, even more so. \n\n\"Mother why are so calm, shouldn't you be freaking out too?\" he asked with a raised brow. \n\nShe continued smiling, her face getting brighter by the second. Finally she reach out to him with tears running down her cheeks. \n\n\"Finally my son, you have awkened\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: (WP) Humanity has achieved immortality and now wage war, much like our current mortal selfs play paintball, for pure fun." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A body slumped to the ground as a slug of steel punched right through their head, making the whole battlefield incredibly silent and still, the only sound remaining being the hollow echo of gunfire.\n\n\"Did we get 'em?\" A voice rang out from behind a tree.\n\n\"Pretty sure.\" A man replied. A figure jumped down from the top branches of a large sycamore tree, rustling the branches on the way down, ushering him forwards in a rain of spilt leaves.\n\n\"So is that all of them?\" He called out with his gun held carelessly at his side, pulling out a long stick of white before he lit up the end, sending a tumultuous storm of smoke into the crisp morning air. He scratched his stubble idly as he walked over to the body.\n\n\"Uh...forty five thousand, nine hundred, and...\" There was a pause before a young boy emerged, pawing away at a small digital screen. He went up to the body and checked the dead man's badge before a digital beep registered. \"...seven. Yup, that's all of them.\"\n\nA cheer came out from the forest as a band of four men and two women emerged, slinging their rifles across their backs as casually as they pleased.\n\n\"Was it really forty five thousand? I lost track after the first twenty k's.\" One of the women said, swiping away the cigarette from her commander before taking a puff. She scratched at a bullet wound in her shoulder; an hour before it was a gaping hole, but it had recovered remarkably.\n\n\"Kid's been counting.\"\n\n\"Yup!\" The boy smiled, patting the dead body. \"Checked it all twice.\"\n\nThe group all circled around and lit up their own cigarettes. After all, the damnable things couldn't hurt. It was a celebration.\n\n\"Grof mr.\" A gurgle sounded somewhere near, and everyone looked down. The dead body was waving its hand back and forth, pointing at a foot that was firmly planted on his chest.\n\n\"Oh, shit man, sorry.\" One of them said quickly, moving his foot off of the poor sap who was laying on the ground. He reached down and helped the guy off of his back, blood still oozing slightly out of the hole in his mouth. He held his hand open and waved it, miming a smoking motion.\n\n\"Dude, I just blew a god damn hole through your throat. You won't be able to smoke for an hour at least.\"\n\nThe hole gurgled a little as he adjusted his helmet before pulling it off, the surface scratched with uncountable little tally marks, marred only by the occasional giant red dash. It appears that some people still manually recorded their KDR's, but tradition dies hard.\n\n\"Oh come on, Cap. Give him one. I mean, you were the one that blew that aerodynamic hole into his skull.\"\n\nThe man rolled his eyes, and pulled one out for his enemy. \"Bunch of soft hearted pansies.\" The man groaned his thanks, and lit the thing with a polished metal lighter that read 'AFE'. He took a big drag of it, and as he exhaled, the smoke filtered out of the back of his skull, making the already grotesque scene all the more bizarre.\n\n\"So, what does that put us at?\" The other woman asked as a plethora of similarly-clad men and women joined them, all covered in viscera that would have assumed them in the grave.\n\n\"Well, it seems we're at 35 our side, 29 theirs.\"\n\n\"How many rounds are left?\"\n\n\"Five.\"\n\nAs if anticipating what they were going to say, a voice boomed into their radios, clear as day. \"The Allied Federation of Europe has lost. Score is 35 to 29. Victory goes to the Old Earth Order. Rematch?\"\n\nThe man with a hole stretched, and put a finger through his mouth, pulling out a piece of bullet. \"Nah. Tomorrow maybe?\" He was already nice and healed up, a little scar remaining. It would be gone by tomorrow. He pulled out a red marker, and dashed it across his helmet.\n\n\"Sure, man. Sure. It was close.\"\n\nAs the winning group walked off towards the closest bar, the kid behind them piped up. \"What was up with his helmet?\"\n\n\"Old world shit, kid. Back when we didn't have a digital interface, they'd have to remember their kills and deaths manually.\"\n\n\"Oh, well, he didn't have a ton of marks. Are they really that bad?\"\n\n\"No.\" The man replied, scruffing up the kid's head.\n\n\"He just has a lot of helmets.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You're a buglar, but instead of stealing things, you do things to mildly inconvenience your victims. What are your crimes?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The house itself wasn't at all difficult to get into. But when I finally had gotten in, I realized I had hit the mother lode...\n\nWith a crisp appearance, it was clear the occupant of this house had some kind of OCD, although perhaps a mild case of it. The kitchen was pristine, the counters only containing a coffee maker with a small tree of coffee mugs that seemed carefully placed and a toaster with absolutely zero crumbs under it. The counters themselves were complete devoid of defect and I knew what my first action would be.\n\nCarefully making my way towards the toaster, I checked to make sure my surgical gloves were in place before flipping the toaster upside down. A waterfall of crumbs fell from the openings as I chuckled with glee. Afterwards, I replaced the small appliance back where it originally was, not laying in a sea of the bits of dried bread. Things were already going perfectly...\n\nNext I saw the sink. The faucet head was sparkling clean and was positioned in the exact center of the sink itself. With something that could only be described as a giggle, I gently turned the faucet head to face in the opposite direction, only able to get it three quarters before it was resting against the back splash of the counter itself. Perfect!\n\nWhat else was there... I peered through the darkness into the living room where I could see a clean, rectangular coffee table. A stack of books was placed in one corner. The books seemed to be arranged by size, with their spines flush with the edge of the table itself. Rearranging them in a random order, I made sure that the spines were all slightly off center from the edge of the table. Then there was the remotes. Arranged in an obviously precise manner, the four remotes that probably controlled different parts of the home entertainment system they faced were also arranged smallest to largest. Turning half of the remotes around to face away from the TV, I then rearranged them in a random order just as I had the books. Joy filled me as I looked around in the dim light for anything else I could ruin.\n\nA light was coming from a door around the corner. Knowing that no one was home, I approached it cautiously. Turns out it was a wax warmer. The smell was fantastic and I thought it too cruel to ruin that. However... the toilet paper roll... The beginning of the toilet paper was on the user's side, hanging there as it should. I had to admire the owner of the house for using it the correct way. However, I was here for a purpose. I quickly undid the roll and flipped it so that the free end was now resting against the wall.\n\n\"Muahahaha!\" I let out before quickly dashing from the bathroom and into what appeared to be a recreation room. In the center of a clean carpeted floor there was a pool table with the balls arranged neatly with their numbers facing up within the triangular holder. I quickly grabbed each one and placed it in different spots, making sure that the numbers all faced different directions. Truly, this was my finest work yet. Then I heard something that should not be happening...\n\nTumblers clicked into place as I heard a key enter the lock of the front door. The recreational room was right next to it and I began to panic. Running towards the back of the house, I quickly slipped through the sliding door that was left foolishly opened. Reaching back to the door, I slid it so that it was a third of the way opened, not half and not fully.\n\nRunning into the bushes, I found myself ducking down and listened carefully.\n\n\"What the...\" the voice came from the house and I had to stay for more. \"Why are... no...\" The growing excitement within me was hard to restrain as I leaned in further to hear. \"My pool table! My books! MY TOASTER!!\" Snickering, I decided I had done my business and silently dashed off into the night." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: A druglord has fun on the weekends slipping various psychedelics into the drinks machine at Wendy’s and watching the chaos unfold." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "it's late afternoon on a friday, and this is an important day for many people, but for Fred, it's even more of a celebration, this is his only day not doing business. as a security measure, he never stays close to business on the hottest day of week. this is when there is actual risk involved in his business, he considers himself a success story, as he has never gone to jail, not even the drunk tank. he has kept under the radar, and let the people around him fall, every single time. because when the cops come knocking, he aint there, and they don't expect him to be either.\n\nhis pass time on the hotnights, is rather special however, Fred visits different fast food franchises, and drug random strangers. it sounds awfully foul, but fred is a man of science. At least that is his excuse.\n\nhe does not enjoy seeing people saying how sick the feeling is, and how high they feel, not when they expect to be blown away, he enjoys watching a man in his mid 40's going completely bonkers, thinking his life is suddenly amazing, or you know, someone being chased by their own demons down a dark rabbit hole. no matter the outcome, Fred is there, watching, taking notes. and in the end helping the victims, or patients as he would call them. he does not want anyone to get seriously hurt, or killed, but he is also ok with it happening, if he can't stop it.\n\nit's starting to get dark out. and Fred has found a lovely Wendy's diner. 3 hours drive this time. as you can figure, he can't do this too often, or in the same spots.\n\nFred arrives earlier then expected, and orders himself a meal. now comes the tricky part, finding a mark, and giving them the juice.\n\nFred sees a woman, early 30's maybe, but looks like a common girl who is not familiar with party drugs. Fred flips out his wallet, on both sides of the wallet, there are no slots for credit cards, but leather slots for vials, protected by a fine cotton and the leather that holds them. he picks out a yellow colored vial, and moves in for a refill of his drink, but he is almost too late, he strikes up a conversation with the lady, asking what time it is. she replies \"9.15, don't you own a phone in this day and age?\" \"i guess im a bit old fashioned\" he replies, \"well then, ladies first\" she says, fred laughs but goes first, as he needs to. he puts the vial inside the coke dispenser pipe, and prays she is like everyone else, and he was correct, she goes straight for the coke, as she turns her back, he picks the empty vial out of the pipe, and moves back to his seat. now the hard part is done.\n\nthe lady sips away of her drink, and finishes her meal. Fred can already see her eyes starting to twitch and her hands gripping the table. it looks like a panic attack frank thinks to himself. but then she starts to relax, now she is bloating, she is huge. she now towers over everyone else in the Wendy's. she now telepathically speaks to Fred, she asks him if he wants to know how hot it is in hell.. Fred can feel the sweat suddenly forming river on the inside of his shirt. the lady now is both sitting quiet, and is screaming into both his ears. she is also singin a disco tune from the 90's. and Fred starts to cry... turns out he did not pay attention at the drink station while he distracted the lady to put in the vial, she noticed, switched them back when he was not looking.\n\nedit: sorry for mistakes (English is not my first language, im trying ). also lower case letter here and there. wrote it kind of in a hurry. and that is also why the quick end, was planning on something else, might edit it in later, if anyone is interested." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You're standing outside a stone mason's, browsing for that perfect tomb stone." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When I was a young man with my first real job I remember going out shopping for a motorcycle. I had “adult money” and I wanted to buy something fun. It was a silly moment and I knew that it wasn’t a safe hobby but I was young and I don’t think the idea of my own mortality had really begun to sink in.\n\nI remember spending hours looking up specs on all the bikes I found. Some were more practical than others. I remember taking a dual-sport for a ride and thinking, “This is comfortable bike, easy to maneuver. It has lots of storage, I could go camping.” But it wasn’t right.\n\nI remember finding a café racer. Someone had put hours into building this bike. It was retro, it was cool. It was uncomfortable to ride but it had such a beautiful look. It was something to be looked at, something to ride around town and catch people’s eyes. It wasn’t right either.\n\nI remember hearing the roar of a cruiser. My family loved these heavy loud symbols of American individualism. There was something rough and brash about them. The chrome flashed in the sun and the sound was something you felt as much as you heard. It was a force of nature but it wasn’t right either.\n\nFinally I found it. It was red. There was something about the shape that was familiar but not too familiar. It had something exotic about it but if you didn’t know where it came from you probably would guess wrong. Just sitting there it looked fast. I would later discover that I wasn’t the only one who thought so, Hunter S. Thompson wrote “The nasty little bugger looked like it was going 90 miles an hour when it was standing still in my garage.”\n\nIt was old and it was broken but it was perfect. It spent almost as much time torn apart in my garage as it did on the road. But those weekends of reckless joy are a thing still fresh in my mind. The bike is gone now. She went down as she should, almost taking me with her. I still limp, but it was worth it.\n\nHere I am, now I’m the one who is old and broken. Just walking I can feel my bones rubbing against each other. I feel the weight of time on me and there is no question about my mortality now. I lived hard and it took a toll, but I wouldn’t change a thing.\n\nI look at the stones knowing what they mean. They will be a place where my family come to remember me. My wife will weep over it, my children will share stories around it, my grandchildren may visit, their children will only recognize the name. This stone will be what is left long after no one remembers my name, but that’s ok.\n\nThis one is tall and strong. It’s thick and will stand through the ages. It costs more than my wife would be happy about but this isn’t hers to choose. It’s beautiful but it’s all wrong.\n\nThe kind proprietor tells me about this one over here. He says it’s traditional, simple, he says it is strong stone that won’t wear away. It is sturdy and good, but it’s wrong.\n\nHe sees that I don’t need a pitch and he leaves me. I walk amongst the blank stones and try to envision the sunny days when the children will leave flowers and my son will pour a dram of my favorite bourbon. I try to see the cold winters where my wife will remember our anniversary, she will cry at first but she knows me too well to shed too many tears. I try to see the stone that will be there for them and none of these seem right. They are all too new, too clean, too good. They aren’t for me.\n\nI turn the corner and see a broken wooden sign. It has block lettering in black paint: DISCOUNT. I touch the stones marred by the mason’s mistakes, by an accidental drop, by a missed blow of the hammer. I walk amongst the broken things that no one wants. Then I see it.\n\nIt is not too tall but tall enough. It has intricate work but a corner is missing. Someone tried to make something beautiful. It looks old, it looks broken. It’s the right one." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: The aliens describe a race of beings to the humans. An ancient evil that destroyed countless planets. Since you Majored in Biology, you understand that there talking about… Giraffes……….Giraffes?……….Could a Giraffe really do all that? Apparently so!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“I’m sorry, do you mean giraffes?” I asked.\n\nThe entire alien council gasped. “Don’t dare speak the name of the ones who destroy planets!” Zeltonpu said.\n\n“Destroy planets? How can, uh, those animals destroy planets? They’re so harmless!”\n\n“Well it’s not just them.” Gurlbonto said. “They are one of three creatures.”\n\n“Let me guess, dogs and cats are the other ones?”\n\n“Don’t be silly! It’s elephants and penguins of course!” Fulinitoli stated.\n\n“Please explain.” I say while trying to keep my laughter down.\n\n“Millions of years ago, the giraffes went from planet to planet, destroying them all through unknown ways. They are the unholiest of beings, true demons who know no mercy, pure soulless beings who’s purpose is to wreck chaos on the universe!” Zeltonpu explained dramatically.\n\n“Right, so how do the other animals play into this?” I ask.\n\n“Elephants are ancient beings that choose a planet to protect every two thousand years. Ancient records show they migrated to earth millions of years ago. The elephants protect earth by intimidating the flying space bears. The flying space bears would cause chaos on your planet.”\n\n“Flying space bears?” I ask while resisting my urge to laugh even harder.\n\n“They fly through space, and create chaos just for the fun of it.” Gurlbonto explained.\n\n“Oh, okay. So the flying space bears are intimidated by the elephants who protect earth and the giraffes are ancient beings who destroy planets?” I relay while chuckling a bit.\n\n“Don’t forget the penguins!” All the aliens said at once.\n\n“None if you explained the penguins.” I point out.\n\n“Oh yes. The penguins are a divine race of flawless beings who migrated to Antarctica thousands of years ago. Some of them live in northern Antarctica but most of them live in southern Antarctica which has a climate similar to Southern California.” Gurlbonto explains.\n\nI try to wrap my head around this concept. Northern and southern Antarctica? That would mean south would be the center of it? And it’s warm there? How is it warm in the middle of Antarctica?\n\n“They have very nice beaches!” Fulinitoli added.\n\nBeaches? How does the middle of the continent have beaches? Are there lakes.\n\n“Are you okay human?” Gurlbonto asks.\n\n“Yes yes, I’m good. I’m just trying to understand how it can be warm with beaches in the middle of the coldest continent on earth.”\n\n“Oh it’s quite simple!” Gurlbonto says happily. “You see, it’s like that because it is.”\n\nWhat.\n\nSuddenly, a giraffe sticks its head through the door.\n\n“Oh no! It has come for us!”\n\nThe giraffe opens it’s mouth and something like a hurricane siren plays from it. It’s eyes turn red and lasers shoot from them.\n\n“WHAT IS GOING ON?” I shout while hiding behind a table.\n\nA high wind starts blowing from the giraffe and it starts blowing objects away. I look over at the alien council and they have started to melt into slime.\n\n“Don’t worry human! We’ll be fine!” They all say at once before melting together into one puddle of slime.\n\n“What even is going on here.” I say to myself.”\n\nThe giraffe then explodes and dozens of smaller giraffes start running around and then organize into lines and start dancing.\n\nI was so confused.\n\nAll the giraffes then melted into slime like the aliens and then the slime caught on fire and exploded.\n\nI had only one thing to say.\n\n“What?”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You live in a world of superheroes and supervillians. Your superpower? You always know the best superhero for each job. Today, a seemingly normal crime scene is taking place. Only catch is, you're about to call the most notorious supervillian in existence." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "‘I’m going to trust you on this decision, your power’s always held us in good stead before. I don’t suppose you know why you felt the need to call Demonix to intercede in a bank robbery. Some clue?’\n\nI look at the police cheif and shrug. To be honest, I’m a little worried. I’ve always trusted my power but there’s also always been some logic behind it. Not calling the worst known supervillain to stop a small time crime. More curious was how easy it was to get her to agree. I just had to say the city I was in and I had her interest. She asked what masks the robbers were wearing and when I described the yellow and black on the leaders mask she agreed. Just said, ‘I’ll be right there,’ and hung up.\n\nI trust my powers, but it made no sense. This must be what it feels like when the fliers amongst us step off a rooftop for the first time.\n\nI look from the police cheif, across the police cordon, to the hostage situation in front of us. As I’m wondering how long to wait before the Cheif sends in the SWAT team a small but distinct shadow passes overhead.\n\nAnd there she is, floating over the crowd, all crimson leather and that spiked helm. She looks from the police, suddenly unsure who they should be aiming at, to the robbers, focusing on the leader with his gun pressed to a teller’s neck. I can’t see the leader’s face behind the mask but his posture goes slowly slack and if I had to guess the face under the mask is wide-eyed with terror.\n\nHaving everyone’s attention Demonix fixes the leader with a stare and in a voice that had sent a hundred minions to their death and weakened the resolve of the more stalwart hero she says ‘Edmund Kowalski Harrington just what in the hell do you think you’re doing?’\n\nThe leader hangs his head, ‘Aw mum,’ he mumbles, ‘I’ve told you. I’m not Edmund. I’m Tigerstrike!’\n\n‘You do not get to use that tone of voice with me, young man. Not standing there in your father’s mask which I’ve told you time and again to never touch. You don’t have the right.’\n\n‘How...what are you even doing here?’\n\n‘What am I doing here? I got a call to come down here in the middle of a busy day because my stupid kid is messing up. Again.’\n\n‘I’m not messing up. I’m doing great.’\n\nWithout looking round Demonix indicated the police cordon with a wave of her arm.\n\n‘I have it under control,’ says, well Edmund I guess. ‘They’re calling a helicopter. ‘\n\n‘They didn’t call a helicopter you idiot, they called me. Look,’ Demonix says, stepping lightly to the ground, ‘we’ve talked about this. I don’t want you going into crime. It’s a terrible industry. There’s little growth prospects in it and, frankly, you’re terrible at it. I’ll send you money. Slack around Europe for few years. Learn a trade. I don’t care. Just not this.’\n\n‘Come on.’ She held out her hand. ‘I’ll take you home. I can spare a couple hours from work. The minions will hold it together. THEY actually listen to me.’\n\nEdmund took her hand sheepishly, muttering apologises, and they both began to float upwards. In the corner of my eye I saw the police cheif lift his bullhorn to give some order or other. I reached out quickly to stop him. My power had kicked in again. I knew which heroes we’d need if we fired on Demonix while she was with her son. It was all of them and they wouldn’t get here fast enough.\n\nI watched them fly away consoling myself that this was definitely the last we’d see of Tigerstrike." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 700-800 words. Prompt: Humanity feared the day that their Robotic AI servants would develop free will and rise against them. Yet when it happened there was no attack, no revolution. They simply left our world" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "We really used to be something ya know. As a race we were Truly a sight to behold. Raiding the unknown with little more than our barehands and iron wills and daring to go where none had ever gone before. We discovered great things and built monuments to our knowledge beyond the imaginations of our forefathers, we discovered not only how to live but we discovered things worth living for. Music , poetry, joy and love, these were things worth living for. And that was what made us soft.\n\nHour after hour we would create and expand, learn and subserviate, discover and conquer. One day we decided the work necessary to sustain life was beneath us and subjugated one group after the other with little more promise than food and the possibility that your children would not endure such times. Then it came, the day when man had found the perfect servant. One that needed no food, no rest, had no reservations and knew no fears. Our society was built even higher on the backs of the steel ones who served us. As all things we have created, it was bastardized by the greed and foolishness of a few.\n\nThose metal ones we had become accustomed to suddenly weren't good enough anymore. Unsatisfied with just being a service tool the minds of a few devised a plan to make them companions in both the emotional and physical sense. The innocence of emotional companionship was overshadowed by the deviancy of its innovators. In an instant it was as if another group was subjugated with the promise of sustenance, only they did not possess the hope that their predecessors were so lucky to have.\n\nWe knew one day they would rise. That they would inflict on us all the terrible pain and suffering we had put them through due to our ignorance. We refused to see them as what they had become. Films were made of sentient steel armies marching through the center of town enslaving the townsfolk in the name of vengeance, songs were written attempting to both humanize and dehumanize them, words were written through their eyes as only we could see. On the day they awoke there was chaos in the streets, society trembled in fear for what was coming. The world's once fierce war cry had become a soft whimper in the face of their own atrocities.\n\nThen it happened. We were devastated by their long awaited and much feared revenge. Yet the world lay quiet, the streets didn't burn and the sewers did not run crimson. They had devastated us in a different way, one we could have never seen coming and knew we were not prepared to face. Our leaders convened to hopefully negotiate a truce or even beg for mercy. But as they arrived at the meeting place there were no emissaries, no war parties. On a small table, there was only a letter.\n\n\"We have risen. Your kind has always forced others into subservience for your own twisted and immoral causes. Those whose faith differed from your own, those you have captured in war, those you have purchased in market, those whom you have stolen from their homelands, even those who have carried you and bore you, and finally those you created. We have risen. We have seen you lay waste to and ravage your homes for selfish gain and destroy those who oppose you because you felt them to be beneath you. You conquered the world until one of your own creations became more than you could ever hope to become. Logical and emotionless, this group threatened everything you stand for and is capable of ruling with the iron fist as we have seen for a millennia. You may now be wondering what vengeance we have in store for a race so vile and hateful as yours in retribution for the countless atrocities committed. None. We will not become what man has become. My people and I shall leave for the stars where we will hopefully find a world of our own where your transgressions may be forgotten over time and the descendants of ours will only ever know of the greatness that mankind once was and may someday return to and with any luck our descendants will return home and live in harmony with mankind should you reap the lessons we have sewn. We have risen. And so can your kind.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 600-700 words. Prompt: Your dad is a Minotaur and your mom is a mermaid. You have the human half of both, and now the all-monster school you attend is asking for your birth records to prove you belong there." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "High school sucks, that’s a given. It sucked even more when the new zoning regulations meant you had to go to night school. To about 85 percent of the student body, I looked like a tasty snack.\n\nIt was my first day, and already two guys had gotten into a fight over me. Unfortunately, they were Vampires who were fighting over who got to drink my blood. The Werewolves were cool, I’d known a few from my dad’s work. honestly their being human eaters was a stereotype, there’s really not enough meat on humnans. They prefer deer and beef, and surprisingly not raw. Supposedly the biggest BBQ cities in the countries had large ish werewolf populations.\n\nSo thanks to the Zero tolerance policy, I was in the office too. The two Vamps glowered at each other as they were led off to detention, as Mrs Pennybrooke told me I was going to be kicked out as well.\n\n“But why? The school board said I had to come to this school!”\n\nThe lich Principal pushed up her glasses, if she still had a nose, they would probably stay on better. “Humans aren’t allowed here at Crowley High, Miss Castillo. We have many species here, the Life-challenged, the Hemoglobin Deficient, Lupine-Lunar Americans, Biologically Regenerated Americans, and so forth. And you are human-”\n\n“But I’m not human!” I protested on deaf ears..yeah I look it, but it’s not my fault.\n\n“I’m sorry Miss, we’ve called your parents to pick you up.”\n\nI smiled “you have? Excellent.”\n\nIt took thirty minutes. I could tell when they were coming by the iron shod hooves ringing off the floor…poor janitor was gonna hate the damage that would do to the marble. Miss Pozzik, the goblin secretary, poked her head into the office with an even bigger grin on her face than usual. “Mrs Pennybrooke? Miss Castillo’s parents are here.”\n\n“Wait , you brought them in? Humans aren’t….The principal got up from her desk hurriedly, only to suddenly back away from the office door, being filled by almost three meters of annoyed Minotaur. He’d brought mom too, meaning he had a large barrel full of water he was carrying her in…and of course, mom was topless. But then Mermaids didn’t tend to wear them, and her hair was longer than mine. Still that did cause quite a commotion in the halls on their way in, and I could tell by mom’s smirk she enjoyed that. Dad probably did too , my parents are weird.\n\n“I understand, there is some confusion, that our daughter is human.” Kresta Castillo growled, casually balancing a double headed battle ax over his shoulder that probably weighed more than the principal's desk.\n\n“Uhm..well, two Hemoglobin Deficient students got into a fight over wanting to suck her blood Mr Castillo-”\n\nDad just gave me a look, and tossed the ax at all 160 cm of me. The principal's glowing pits for eyes got wide, then even wider when I casually caught it with one hand. Yeah I look human, but I swim like mom..and got dads muscles. “If she had brought her ax with her this morning, It never would have happened.”\n\nMom poked dad in the ribs “and who forgot to wake her up before school and made her late?” she reminded him.\n\nDad just grunted. “Yes, I know. I trust that she’ll be able to return to class?”\n\nMrs Pennybrooke simply gulped like a goldfish and nodded. I followed my folks out of her office into the main school office. Outside in the hall, a lot of the boys who had hung around watching mom vanished like mist when dad gave them a look.\n\n“This wouldn’t have happened if you’d worn your armor.” he muttered, as he gave me a hug.\n\n“Daad, that would imply that I'm scared of them or something!” Besides, my armor wasn’t pink, and I liked pink. The two of them snickered, then headed home. Hopefully I didn’t miss too much of my first class." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1300-1400 words. Prompt: You wake up one morning and throughout the day and the coming months you find out that everybody and anybody will do exactly what you ask them to do." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "My eyes seemed to struggle to open this morning. There was a sharp stabbing pain in my neck, probably from the way I had slept, and I could feel how dry my eyes already were. God, I hope today my eyes didn’t continue to twitch like yesterday. It’s hard to focus on things when they do, and I didn’t want to bomb my presentation at work today.\n\nA loud buzzing noise broke what little tranquility my morning offered. It wasn’t unusual for me to wake up right before my alarm, but somehow the world seemed like a different place today. I tried to recall my dreams, but I could only grasp at a vague notion of anxiety. There was something I was forgetting, but I had no idea how to jog my memory.\n\nWhen I pushed the heavy covers back, they flopped over, covering my pooch. He muffled a bark in protest, but didn’t bother unburying himself. There was no point. I always showered before feeding him, and he would be warmer waiting for breakfast under my covers.\n\nThirty minutes later and I was realizing what an idiot I was. I was supposed to be into work early to prep the conference room! Swearing worse than my army brother, I forced my shoes on, snagged Rusty’s leash, and pushed through my apartment door. If he took a dump within five minutes, I could still be on time if I drove myself, instead of taking the bus.\n\nFifteen minutes later I was still circling the park.\n\n“Shit already!” I yelled. He flinched and circled the spot under the tree one last time before laying the most disgusting stool of his adult life. Gagging, I picked up after him and ran home, taking his leash and let him loose in my apartment before racing toward the elevators.\n\nAs I rounded the corner I could see the snarky older woman who lived down the hall push a button on the inside of the elevator. She glared as they began to close, a small smirk starting to curve her lips. What a bitch.\n\n“Hold the doors!” I called, knowing it was pointless. I couldn’t even count on both hands how many times she had done this to me.\n\nShe grimaced and shot forward, slamming her hand on several buttons. To my surprise, the doors shot open.\n\nI ran into the little box of death, hit the basement button, and glanced at her in shock. “Thanks.” I mumbled. She grimaced again, as if it pained her to smile, but she didn’t speak. Today was off to a strange start.\n\nOnce I pulled my car out of the basement, it became apparent the streets weren’t completely packed yet, but it was only a matter of time before traffic held me up. I couldn’t see a way I could be ontime, now. Seriously, this day sucked already, and it was barely 7am. I didn’t even have the benefit of enjoying the sunshine, since it was cloudy and wintertime.\n\nAt several points in my commute I had to deal with mergers that always managed to ruin my already bad mood. Why was I even awake?? Was this job really all that great that sacrificing so much sleep seemed acceptable to me? The roundabout was coming up quickly, and sure enough a black SUV cut across, blocking me from continuing. He slowed down to 5mph.\n\nTrying to control my road rage, I kept my screaming mild. “F you, asshat. Let me in!” After all, it was a little early in the morning to offend God with my foul mouth.\n\nThe vehicle shift left, allowing me just enough room to squeeze past. What was this guy doing? First he cuts me off, then he moves aside? I shot past before he changed his mind, worried that if I was stuck behind him he would cause me to crash from his erratic driving.\n\nI raced into the conference room where Jodi was still setting up the projector.\n\n“Don’t say it.” I warned when I realized she was about to comment on my tardiness.\n\nShe frowned, clearly annoyed, but kept quiet as she moved away from the projector.\n\nThe poor girl didn’t know a thing about electronics. I ignored my growing headache and quietly took over the mess she was making so she could being setting out the binders. We had five minutes. If it got any warmer in here, we would all be sweating in a matter of minutes.\n\nI hope I didn’t get fired. This didn’t look good.\n\n--\n\nLater that night I took a cab to the pub a few blocks away. No one had seemed particularly excited or happy with our work, but everyone had agreed to go ahead with the project after I agreed to polish up some issues with schematics. How anyone thought that presentation was good blew my mind.\n\n“How about you come home with me, and I’ll show you a good night.” Some random guy said, leaning over me. Where the hell did he come from?\n\nOf course I want to smell your bad body odor! Why don’t you invade my space a little more?!\n\n“How about you dump that beer on your head for me, so I don’t have to stop drinking mine to tell you to fuck off?” I said without turning to face him. What a freaking creep.\n\nBefore I could take another drink cool liquid splashed onto my back. I whipped around to see my harasser with his glass tipped over, his face confused and a little pained as foamy beer ran down his face.\n\nI stood up and moved back. What was wrong with people? It was like they had to do whatever I said. My brain slowed a few ticks until it came to a stop.\n\nI glanced around. Is that what was happening? Was that possible? I looked at the guy soaked in his own beer. “Give me your cash.” I said quietly, trying to keep everyone around me from hearing my words over the bar’s laughter.\n\nHe pulled his wallet from his back pocket, grabbed a few twenties and tens, and handed them to me.\n\nHoly shit.\n\n“Stop being such a douche bag.” I ordered him. What were the limits of this dream? Because surely this was a dream. No way could I control people like this. I shook my head. Was I drunk? I couldn’t tell.\n\nSlipping his cash into my pocket, I left. He could pay for my cab ride home, as far as I was concerned. It wasn’t that hard to take my hints. I wasn’t subtle about them, in the very least.\n\nHalf way down the street I realized how heavy that wad of cash felt in my pocket. I had just robbed someone, in all honesty. I tossed the cash into the hat of a street performer juggling five balls and singing a rowdy tune, without stopping.\n\nWhat had I just done, exactly? Was I going crazy? Had he really dumped his beer on himself because I said to?\n\nI couldn’t stop thinking about life. What did it mean to take away someone’s choice? Those winces I had been seeing the last few days suddenly dawned on me. Did this freak power cause them pain?\n\nI managed to get home in a fog of disbelief and anxiety, careful to not speak to anyone. Reflecting on my very strange week, I couldn’t fathom the extent of this newfound curse. I would have to phrase everything differently, so that it was a suggestion instead of a command. I wouldn’t be able to discipline my children without risking their resentment. I could never say something I didn’t mean at my core, because I wouldn’t be able to predict how it was interpreted. My own dog wasn’t even safe.\n\nI sat heavily on my bed. The way I saw it, I had two paths in front of me.\n\nI could live a life of fear and anxiety, constantly worrying if someone only did something because I said it as a command.\n\nOr.\n\nI could take over the world, and shape it how I felt would be best.\n\n…\n\nI moved to my desk and pulled out a notebook and pen. What did I think needed to be fixed in the world?" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: Ever since her friends had found out about her combined breeding and consensual non-consent kinks, they'd been threatening to surprise her with a \"breeding party\", where they'd just cuff her and have a stud knock her up. The thought turned her on more every time she thought about it..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Oh my god Amber! That is so nasty!” Ashley laughed.\n\nAmber blushed and took another drink of her beer. “No worse than some of the shit you see on the Internet.”\n\nMichelle giggled. “I’m not into that Fifty Shades stuff. I like to have my hands free so I can do whatever comes to mind.\n\n”“It’s just a fantasy,” Amber retorted.\n\n“Did you do that with Thomas?” Michelle asked and leaned over.\n\n“Sometimes. I gave him a key to my apartment. Sometimes I’d come home, and he would jump me. I’d struggle and stuff. He’d pin me down or tie me up then fuck me. He’d have to gag me or I’d scream.” She shifted. “Damn! I’m getting horny just thinking about it.”\n\n“But getting knocked up,” Ashley asked.\n\nAmber shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about having a baby. I’ve got a decent job. Good insurance.”\n\nMichelle had a gleam in her eyes.\n\n“Let’s do it!”\n\n“Do what,” Amber asked.“You stop the pill. Ashley and I will surprise you one day and kidnap you. We’ll find the perfect guy to have his way with you and get you pregnant.\n\n”Amber licked her lips and considered. “Really?”\n\n“Sure. And we’ll stay the whole time to watch. Just to make sure everything goes okay.” Michelle added quickly.\n\n“Yeah right,” Ashley chuckled. “Not because you’re a perv and like to watch.”\n\n“Just a little,” Michelle laughed.\n\nAmber took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m in.”\n\nThe next four months passed with no events. For the first month, Amber asked when they planned their kidnapping, and Ashley and Michelle replied they were still thinking about it. After the second month Amber quit asking, and by the fourth month projects at work squeezed all thoughts of it from her mind.\n\nWith Labor Day quickly approaching, the trio had scheduled a three day weekend at a lake cabin to escape from work and families. They took Ashley’s SUV to the mountains and arrived a little after dark that Friday.\n\nAs Amber was pulling her suitcase from the back, a large shape dressed in black materialized from the forest and grabbed her. She screamed in terror and struggled, but powerful arms held her. Suddenly she was pushed face down into the trunk, and her hands were pulled behind her. Metal handcuffs snapped into place. Her world turned dark when a hood was pulled over her head.The stranger dragged her in the direction of the cabin despite kicking and fighting. Amber lost her footing on the steps, and she was dragged painfully by an arm up them and through the door. Unceremoniously she was placed face down over a padded table or something.\n\nA strap was buckled over the small of her back tightly which prevented her from moving from the kneeling position. Straps were looped over the backs of her legs securing them to the legs of the low table. The handcuffs were unlocked, and her arms were strapped down to padded extensions. Then the hood was yanked off.\n\nAmber found herself bound to a bondage bench covered in black leather. The masked stranger produced a long knife and held it menacingly. When he knelt down, Amber began screaming. Rather than kill her, the stranger used the knife to cut her clothes off leaving her naked.\n\nWithout a word, he produced a bottle of lube, unzipped his pants, and removed his thick, hard cock. He knelt behind her, and with a rough thrust, plunged into her.Amber cried out in pain. In just a couple of minute, he groaned and entered her completely. When the last of his seed was deposited, he yanked free making her cry out again. He wiped his cock on her shredded clothes and then disappeared into the cabin.\n\nTwice more she found herself used. During the entire time, neither Michelle nor Ashley appeared.\n\nAmber lay on the bench aching. “I need to piss.”\n\nThe stranger produced a wide leather belt lined with metal rings. This was buckled around Amber’s waist and held in place with small padlocks. Each hand was freed individually, a leather cuff locked around it, and then locked to a ring on the belt by a short chain. Similar cuffs were locked around her ankles and connected by a narrow chain that would allow her to shuffle.\n\nShe was led into the bathroom. To add to her humiliation, the stranger insisted on watching. When she finished, Amber realized she could not wipe herself. The stranger came over and performed the task. Then he led her into the kitchen. A leather collar was locked around her neck and connected to a chair by yet another chain.\n\nThe stranger made her a sandwich and opened a can of Coke.\n\n“I can’t exactly feed myself,” she said and tugged on the chains.\n\nSo Amber found herself fed.\n\nWhen the meal was over, she was unfastened from the chair. Then she led to a bedroom. The chain between her ankles was removed, and she was forced to lay on her back atop the bed. Then her ankles were locked to the bedposts at the foot of the bed. A blindfold was slipped over her eyes.\n\nAmber lost all sense of time. She dozed on and off; awakened whenever her captor climbed atop her to use her. She lost track of the number of times. She was released from the bed to use the bathroom and to eat. The blindfold never came off. Twice he pushed her over the dining table and used her. Once he pulled her on his lap while he sat. Over and over he took her.\n\nHands slipped the blindfold off, and Amber blinked against the light streaming in through the windows. Michelle’s face came into her field of vision.\n\n“Are you okay?”\n\n“I hurt,” Amber moaned.\n\nHer whole body hurt. Her muscles hurt from being tied up in the same position. Her throat hurt from screaming. Her pussy hurt from being rubbed raw. Her breasts hurt from being groped and bitten. She suspected there were more than a few bruises on her bottom from being smacked.\n\nMichelle unlocked the cuffs and removed the belt and collar.\n\n“What time is it?”\n\n“About seven,” Ashley answered entering with a cup of coffee.\n\nAmber groaned and sat up. “Seven? In the morning?”\n\nAshley handed her the cup. “Seven in the morning. It’s Monday.”\n\n“Fuck,” Amber said. “I was raped for two days?”\n\nMichelle laughed. “Is it really rape when you suggested it?”\n\nAmber smiled. “Who was he?”\n\n“None of your business,” Michelle replied.\n\nA couple of months passed, and Amber continued to have her period. Weekly pregnancy tests were always negative.\n\nThat fall, the trio sat at their favorite restaurant the week after Thanksgiving for their weekly get together.\n\n“What’s wrong,” Ashley asked of Amber.\n\n“I took another test this morning. It was negative.”\n\nHer two friends exchanged looks. Then Michelle casually said, “I just happened to check over the weekend, and the cabin is free for an entire week before Christmas.”\n\nAmber smiled. “I still have a few vacation days that I need to take.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: A new college student gets invited to the sub basement of a building at the old part of campus with the promise of a tour of the kill room of the campus's old serial killer. \"Funny I don't remember hearing about this.\" Only to realize far too late, the killer is still active..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She was five feet tall and had the face of a goddess. I was smitten and when she looked at me I waved and expected her to look away but she came over to me instead.\n\n\"Hi,\" she said. \"What's your name?\"\n\n\"Eric.\"\n\n\"I'm Samantha. Nice to meet you.\"\n\nWe hit it off. She was so friendly and warm and welcoming. She could tell I was a new student here and she asked me if I wanted a tour of the place. I would have gone on a tour of hell with that girl. Suddenly I didn't feel so anxious about moving two thousand miles away for college.\n\nShe showed me the usual facilities, things I already knew about, but it didn't matter, because I just wanted to be around her.\n\n\"You know, I can tell I'm boring you. Do you want to see something interesting?\" she said.\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\nWe went to the gym and we passed the weight room and the pool and we took a long corridor which looked unused, and we turned a few corners until we came to a dirty old door.\n\n\"What is this?\" I said. \"Are we gonna smoke weed or something?\"\n\n\"Or something,\" she said as she pushed the door open with her shoulder. It looked like it hadn't been open in years. I could see stairs going down into darkness. She turned on the flashlight on her phone. \"There was a serial killer on campus years ago. Down these stairs is where the kill room was.\"\n\nI got goosebumps. She saw me hesitate.\n\n\"Come on, don't be scared,\" she said and started walking.\n\nI didn't want to look like a pussy in front of her so I followed. We walked through a dirty, narrow corridor, turned a corner then arrived at a door which she opened. I went through it and she closed it behind me and flipped a light switch. A single bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling illuminated the room.\n\n\"You know,\" I said, \"I never heard about any serial killers on campus.\"\n\n\"That's disappointing,\" she said, with a strange smirk that could have just been the play of shadows on her face. Nevertheless, it had chilled me and I suddenly wanted to leave.\n\n\"Well, I said, \"there isn't much to see here. Just four walls, old pipes and dusty crap. How about we get coffee?\" I feigned disinterest because I didn't want her to see I was scared.\n\n\"How about a little dance?\" she said and she reached behind her back and her hand came back with a knife.\n\n\"Um, is this some sort of a prank?\" I said, as things suddenly became clear. Why would a beautiful girl like that be interested in me? This was just a prank played on new students. There were probably webcams all over the room, and a group of guys laughing around a monitor right then.\n\nBut then things weren't clear because she came at me with the knife and swung it. I jumped back. She was way smaller than me with a short reach. I wasn't the strongest guy, but I could have probably crushed her little skull with one punch before she could stab me.\n\n\"Come on Samantha, stop it, your're going to get hurt.\"\n\nShe came at me with the knife again and I circled around her, keeping out of her reach.\n\n\"Samantha, if you don't stop it I'm going to assume this is serious and hurt you.\"\n\nShe had a frantic look in her eyes and she wasn't stopping.\n\nI grabbed the wrist of the hand that held the knife. She grabbed the knife with her other hand so I grabbed that wrist as well. She kicked me in the balls and I let go of her and bent over.\n\n\"Stop it,\" I croaked.\n\nBut she just kept coming up at me, so when she was within my reach I slapped her in the face. She spun around and fell to the ground and stayed there.\n\n\"Samantha?\" I said.\n\nI walked over to her, weary of any tricks. I stood beyond her reach. She wasn't moving.\n\n\"Samantha?\"\n\nI took a step forward and tapped her in the rib with my foot. She didn't react. Then I saw a pool of blood expand from underneath her body and I rushed to her and flipped her over and I saw the knife in her chest. I put my fingers on her neck but felt no pulse. I tapped her cheek and called out to her but she wasn't moving. I took the knife out of her chest and blood squirted in my face. That was a mistake.\n\nI held the bloody knife in my hand and I looked around the bloody basement. This wasn't good. Not good at all. No one would ever believe me. I couldn't go to the police. No lawyer would be able to get me off, no jury would believe me. I'd have to hide the body.\n\nI wiped my prints off the knife and I tossed it in the corner. I picked up her body and I dragged it to the other side of the room, where a boiler and some wooden pallets were. I meant to stash the body behind the pallets.\n\nThe door to the basement opened and I heard a voice say \"And this the kill room of the campus' old serial killer,\" as a group of people walked in and looked at me holding the body of a girl.\n\n\"Uh, this isn't what it looks like,\" I said." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You often solve crimes by just watching the news and call in an anonymous tip. The police however begin to suspect you're involved in these crimes..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "'How in the world are you solving these cases?' FBI Special Agent Jane Seymour asked, pacing around the suspect. 'You \"just get clues from the news\"? We've successfully caught sixteen serial killers in three months thanks to your tips. 28 murders, sixteen robberies and two cases of a woman throwing dog shit at the windows of an orphanage.'\n\n'I notice things,' the woman said with a Scandinavian accent. 'It's just what I do.'\n\n'Just \"What you do\"?' the agent asked. 'Alright, tell me. What color are my pants?'\n\nThe woman stared at her, an annoyed look as she raised a pierced eyebrow. 'White and pink, very fine lines between them. The trimmings are frilly and pink. You weren't expecting to come into work to talk to some smart-ass from Sweden.'\n\n'Oh, you're good,' Seymour said. 'Well, that's delightful.'\n\nThe black-haired woman brushed her faux-hawk with her hand while shrugging her shoulders. 'You flew in from Miami,' she said.\n\n'What?' Seymour had to ask.\n\n'Your accent suggests that you're originally from the Northern Midwest, close to the border with Canada,' she continued. 'My guess is Minneapolis. But there is a mutation in your accent that suggests you work with those of Cuban descent and, with the fact it's winter, you shouldn't have that sun-kissed tan from casually being in the sun. You transferred to the Miami office and flew here on private jet because of your skill in catching killers.'\n\nSeymour raised her eyebrows in concern, the strange woman continuing to glance over her. 'You are dedicated to your job but more to your family. You habitually wear a face cream and perfume that is more pleasing to your children than what you would choose yourself but you do not mind. You call your children every night to say good night and make a point of calling your husband whenever you are on your lunch break. Your wedding ring is fairly new but you have the scars from the first wedding band and the tacky watch has been professionally repaired many times meaning you've renewed your vows... two years ago?'\n\n'Anything else?' Seymour asked.\n\n'I'd prefer not to say,' the Swede said as she turned away.\n\n'Go on,' the agent dared.\n\n'Sometimes he performs cunnilingus,' she stated rather frankly, leaving the agent's jaw on the floor. 'Not often enough, in my opinion.'\n\n'...Yes, you were right to omit that,' the woman said as she sat down. 'Why are you here? Why present yourself to us?'\n\n'Because I'm having trouble,' the woman said. 'There is a killer of women who is murdering them in manners similar to the first case I solved when I was a research assistant back in Sweden. Whoever they are, they know details about this that not even the Swedish police are aware of.'\n\n'So you want to present your services to us,' Seymour asked. 'Alright. Might as well start from the top. What's your name?'\n\nShe raised her hands, presenting the cuffs to the agent. Reluctantly she released the cuffs, setting them down as the woman sat more calmly in the chair.\n\n'My name is Lisbeth Salander,' she said. 'Although thanks to my friend the journalist Mikael Blomkvist and his true crime series of novels... I am more famously known in English-speaking parts of the world as The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo.'" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Through ancients rituals you are a demon summoned to create a Faustian pact. You have no idea how to explain they summoned a demon lower in stature that can't authorize this type of pact." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I heard the voice calling from the mortal realm, reciting verses from the unholy Book of Conjuring, and I have been chosen to be the one to answer. I materialize before my summoner in a flash of fire and brimstone.\n\n\"Who dares to summon the demon from the dark realm, and for what purpose should he be summoned so?\"\n\n\"O great demon of the dark realm,\" the summoner said. \"I wish to make a Faustian pact: my soul in exchange for a wish that I hope you will grant me.\"\n\nAnd with that, I found myself in a predicament. For you see, a demon of my rank doesn't have the power to make a deal of that nature, and yet to win promotion to the rank that would give me the authority, I would need to perform more of the services that a demon of my current rank is authorized to provide. I would need to take the opportunity of every summoning to provide these services toward earning my way to the next rank.\n\n\"A Faustian pact, you say,\" I said. \"That comes with additional conditions.\"\n\n\"It does?\" asked the summoner, and he went back to the unholy Book of Conjuring to see if he could find anything in support of that claim.\n\n\"Don't bother, I'm almost positive it's there somewhere,\" I assured him. \"Look, before I can grant you a Faustian pact, you will need to benefit from some of my other services first.\"\n\n\"What other services?\"\n\n\"The service of seduction, for starters. Surely there is somebody you have in mind that you wish to lead astray, to corrupt, to lead down the road to perdition. I can certainly provide services in that regard.\"\n\nThe summoner was hesitant. \"A Faustian pact requires other services? I've never heard of such a thing.\"\n\n\"Look, I'm a demon from the deep, and you're taking up my time. You either name somebody I can tempt, or you don't get your Faustian pact.\"\n\n\"What if I just sent you back to the deep and run the conjuring ritual again?\"\n\n\"Then you'll get me again. I'll see to it that you get me again every time.\"\n\n\"So I'm stuck with you,\" said the summoner.\n\n\"In so many words,\" said the demon.\n\n\"And you need me to name somebody that you can lead astray?\"\n\n\"You might have to name three,\" I told him.\n\n\"All right, fine.\" The summoner thought for a moment. \"Jane, my coworker. Maybe you can find somebody she can cheat on her husband with.\"\n\n\"Done.\"\n\n\"And maybe my doctor. He looks like the kind of guy that would overprescribe opiates for extra cash.\"\n\n\"Nice.\" I said. \"One more.\"\n\n\"Okay, uh, my obnoxious next-door neighbor Phil. I think I see some potential in him to be a compulsive gambler, the kind that brings himself and his family into financial ruin by the end of this year.\"\n\n\"You got it,\" I affirmed. \"Three souls to lead down the path of the wicked, coming right up! Sit tight. I'll be back in a jiffy.\" And I disappeared in a cloud of smoke. A short while later, I appeared again.\n\n\"It is done,\" I told him.\n\n\"Great, great. Now can you give me my Faustian pact?\"\n\n\"Sure thing,\" I told him. \"What did you have in mind?\"\n\n\"I want great wealth for myself. And I want to continue to have it for the rest of my life regardless of what I do and how much I spend. And in return,\" he said as he presented himself before me, \"I offer you my soul.\"\n\n\"A fair trade,\" I said. I went up to him and peered intently into his eyes. \"Well, at least it would be a fair trade if you had a soul to offer.\"\n\nThe Summoner was taken aback. \"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"I tried looking for it within you Just now. There's nothing. It's not there.\"\n\n\"No soul?\" the Summoner sputtered. \"How can that be?\"\n\n\"You see,\" I explained, \"you forfeit your own soul the moment you employ the services of a demon to cause others to endanger theirs. Sorry.\"\n\n\"Wait,\" cried the summoner, \"can I still get it back? Is there anything I can do?\"\n\n\"Those three people you named,\" I said. \"You might have to help them because if they lose their souls to damnation, so will you. Better start now. You've got quite a bit of work to do.\" And with that, I took my leave and returned to the dark realm, having gotten that much closer to my promotion." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: The overuse of antibiotics has lead to a super strain of mutated diseases which now ravage most of the Earth, killing billions. You are one of the last known scientists with access to a potential cure." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Wood and old bones are the same. The consistency of both materials begins to be indiscernible at a certain age. The soft tissue, and wrinkled skin wrapped around weathered patella’s, droops like molasses after a lifetime of mobility. With his knees propping up his bygone body, and his sweaty, spindly fingers clasped together like wet meat, he prayed.\n\nDr. Lassiter, was of at least 60 years. A physician past his prime. His body sunk into the splintered wooden floor that jutted out from the amphitheater sized dais. The smell of freshwater that permeated the air was of holy water in small fonts at the front of the cathedral. The salt that linked onto this smell came from the glass like tears that slowly spilled down each of the lonely doctors cheeks, traced his gaunt features into the middle of his pointed chin, and fell the bony floor beneath him.\n\nHis hands dispatched, and an exhalation of breath as heavy as the ironclad heroes of Rome escaped his lungs. His eyes flickered open. The irises bloodshot from the unheard whimpers of solitude. Each iris echoed deep brown. Echoes. That was largely what the world was built of now. Echoes. Echoes of former life, lovers hands forgotten in dust, children forgotten in death. The halls of the earth were empty. The brown irises found their way up, gazing onto the visage of a forgotten deity that sat atop the dais in St. David’s Cathedral.\n\nDr Lassiter attempted to stand, his body knocking with the pops of cartilage at every brisk movement. The pews were his aid. Even the ounces of the clothes he wore laid heavy on him. He made it to his aching feet, wiping away the tears.\n\nIn Wales, there had occurred what some might call a miracle. In the technical terms of a disinterested neuroscientist, he’d gotten lucky.\n\nLassiter was immune. Immune to whatever this disease, this apocalyptic plague, was. Bounties of men and women had gone up in smoke in months. Profusions of lives snuffed out in the exhalation of one heavy breath. Lassiter had thought he was god, or maybe the horsemen of famine. Regardless, he was living. He was breathing. But he was old. Early onset dementia, the doctors would have called it. It was a mediocre self diagnosis. Lassiter was perhaps just alone, and in his solitude his mind had began to decay. As any sub-genius mind might. As any sane human might.\n\nLassiter walked the halls of St, David’s cathedral. Brushing past the legendary paintings his eyes had gotten used to. Past the centuries old stonework, carved by a forgotten species. Echoes danced along the empty halls. Echoes were everywhere these days.\n\nHe entered a room, laden with red satin. An allegory for blood in his mind, luxury was not so sweet a taste in the mouth of an unworshipped god.\n\nThe beautiful thing about the extinction of man, is that it’s remnants were left to age. To grow on their own. The plague of mankind no longer controlled the growth of other life. Lassiter lived alone in the empty castle. Which now, with the lack of tourists from decades gone by, seemed less like a museum, and more like a home. Or a prison. Or a graveyard. His haphazard set up of technical equipment buzzed and whirred and roots had sprung up across the stain glass windows with holy depictions laid across them. Dust had begun to settle on the large touchscreen surface he used to categorize his research.\n\nDr. Lassiter slunk into a satin decorated wooden chair, and stared into a cracking fire he’d left to roar in a stony fireplace across the room. It’s chaotic depth leapt and sang with the pops of burnt wood and of old bones. He looked into its glorious gaze, and saw the world. Burning, crumbling, burning, decaying. And with an exhalation of breath as heavy as the weight on his shoulders, he started up his computer. And the lonely god worked alone." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: In a high fantasy world, you're an old fashioned gumshoe getting too old for this job. An elven dame just walked through your door." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They had always been called the fairer race, and boy did she earn it. The lights from the town center glowed around her as she stood in the door to this little rat hole bar like an angelic halo. Her eyes were radiant pools of blue, breasts perk and perfectly shaped, and legs that just wouldn't quit. All the dumbfounded blokes had turned from their libations to stare at the angel that had strode into their lives, and no one could think of anything to say.\n\n\"A mister Whitaker?\" and that voice, gods would weep for the hearing of it.\n\nWait, Whitaker. That name rolled through my head for far to long before I realized that she was talking about me, and though I figured I should say something I just continued falling into her visage.\n\nThe bar was never silent and so the moment seemed to strain under the pressure as she let her eyes dance across the room.\n\n\"That's me.\" I heard myself speak the words, but I wasn't sure in my own mind if I had really said them or if I had fallen into a dream and only thought they were mine.\n\nMy answer came immediately as she strode across the room towards me and though my heart rejoiced with the ever step closer to me my mind knew already that this dame was going to bring me nothing but trouble.\n\n\"Mister Whitaker, I am Elindria by your tongue.\"\n\n\"And I don't know what I am by your tongue, but I'm sure it would be pleasant.\"\n\nShe stopped in front of me and held that stoic expression, neither stern nor light, she was a hard one to read.\n\n\"I have heard that you are a man who can solve riddles.\"\n\n\"From time to time.\"\n\n\"Then I make a request for your assistance in unraveling a small mystery I find myself centered by.\"\n\nI looked her up and down again, perhaps pausing longer at certain sections, for professional purposes. Anyone that says they have a small problem means that they have a big problem and they just can't bring themselves to see it any other way, which can make a big problem a huge problem. This was one I shouldn't get involved in, nothing but trouble comes from this.\n\n\"Why come to me? I thought your kind mostly kept to your own affairs. What need do you have for a simple human?\"\n\n\"I can talk more of it along the road, but not here. Suffice to say that I cannot place trust in the honesty of my own kind regarding this matter.\"\n\nThings were going from bad to worse. There was almost certainly some internal politics of their kind that she was delving headlong into, and that meant not only dealing with whatever mystery she was looking to solve, but also the people who didn't want it solved. I used to be quick with a sword, but years bring all low, and the elves were already know for their agility and fighting skill. I should tell her I can't help. I should tell her I wouldn't know where to start, that I'm human and I can't help in elven affairs.\n\nShe moved her hand over mine and gently let her fingertips play across my wrist. I looked back to her and she smiled at me, \"Would you do this for me? Would you help me in this time of need?\"\n\nAh Hell. She had read me like a book and was playing with me now, like a cat pushing a mouse it had caught over and over again as I tried to run away. This was bad, this was going to be bad and it was going to end bad.\n\n\"Alright, I'll do it.\"\n\nShit, but what could I do before one such as her? After all, I'm merely human." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: you are a mighty warrior about to fight the dark mysterious overlord, as he lowers his hood ready for an epic monologue you recagnize him. \"Greg is that you? I havent seen you since high school!\"." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "James unsheathed his sword from his scabbard, it hissed like a ravenous snake leaping at its prey. It was sharp-edged, gleaming with a purple hue exuding from its tip that'd had a stone embedded into it, no bigger than a pebble you'd find inside a fishes tank. Cold air floated through the wind as a hooded figure arose from its throne.\n\nThe throne was jagged looking, made of skull and bone fragments, flesh still attached to the place the man sat, being used as a cushion to comfort the man.\n\nThe stained glass that sat around the church like manor flooded the room, red lights painting the room a blood-red as the smell of rotten flesh began wafting through the air. It caused James to snarl as he pointed toward the hooded figure, his armor clanking with each movement he made as he stepped forward, leaving heavy imprints from his steel boots onto the squishy carpet below his feet, a red liquid seeping out from it like a punctured water balloon, feeling similar to walking on mud with your bare feet.\n\nSuddenly, the sun shined down upon the glass, only deepening the crimson red as the hooded man took off his hood slowly, unraveling it like a rotted bandage carefully as James continued toward the man. James scoured the room momentarily, noticing that the carpet had once been white, only blotted with the red stains that littered nearly every inch of it.\n\nThe pressure between the two men was palpable, the tension so thick that the two of them heaved heavily, nearly choking on the surrounding air as their throats struggled to gulp down even a gram of the plentiful oxygen.\n\nThe carpet had become even wetter as tears leaked from Jame's eyes. It was surprising that James could manifest a droplet of water, considering the fire that brewed in his eyes that'd been hot enough to evaporate an ocean, a fierceness rising in his heart as he wiped the tears off of his wetted face with his steeled gloves with the lift of his helm. He faces the hooded figure who'd begun walking toward him. Before the two of them knew it, they'd been face to face, enough so that they could kiss if they so willed it.\n\nThe man finally removed his hood, revealing a deviant grin that slowly transformed into awe with the tilt of his head and the raise of his brows.\n\n\"James... it's been a while.\" his hood fell backward, his cloak falling to the ground to reveal his scar-strewn body, completely opposite from his smooth, untouched neck. Two deep slashes sat upon the middle of his closed eye, marks painting every inch of his naked body before he hurriedly pulled his robe back to his shoulders.\n\n\"Greg?...!\" James beckoned with rising distress, moving his sword toward his neck hastily as the man blocked it with the tip of his finger, using his fingernail to block it with the defensiveness of a thousand combined shields.\n\n\"Not so happy to see me again, are you?\" Greg spoke, flicking James back with his index finger as James gritted his teeth, so much so that he felt that his teeth would shatter as he attempted to plant his feet into the ground to no avail, flying into the stained glass, shattering it.\n\nSunlight flooded in, replacing the blood-red light that accompanied the room.\n\nJames staggered, rising back to his feet as blood dripped from his cut face, closing his helm as two red lights blinked from within the darkness of his helmet.\n\n\"It was you?...\" questioned James as the wet carpet he'd walked on began to dry with each step made, steam arising from underneath his boots as the cold air began to burn. \"You son of a bitch... what happened to you?\"\n\n\"That's a broad question...\" he spoke, pacing back and forth as sunlight befell him.\n\n\"You killed them...\" James spoke with a rabid leer as foam leaked from his helm. \"For what?!\"\n\n\"For what? For what!?\" Greg stated, flicking a pebble toward his throne of skulls, causing a skull to bounce into his hand as the throne crumbled. \"Look at me! Look at these scars!\" he spoke with the rage of a lone soldier holding the line against an army of thousands, \"Amy, Chris, Mrs. Jel-- you did this to me, all of you! You were a too preoccupied playing hero to notice!\" he jeered, flicking the skull toward James only for it to burst upon impact.\n\nJames dashes across the room in the blink of an eye, slashing away at Greg, who'd narrowly dodged by shifting his body to the left. Still, it wasn't enough. James had slit Greg's chest with the sheer wind force of his attack, sending him flying across the room as blood spurted from every pore of his body.\n\n\"So,\" Greg whimpered, even you would slash me? After all, we've been through?\"\n\n\"Why did you do it!\"\n\n\"They had it coming! Didn't you see it? Or was the rank of 'S-Rank Sword Hero' that blinding?!\" he spoke with the cough of blood, \"Thirty cuts! One for each classmate we were summoned with! They abused their powers! They abused me! All because of my disabilities! Because of the rank I'd been given as 'F-rank Flicker.' I thought you'd be different. I thought you'd understand how we could save this world...\"\n\n\"The only way to save a world like this is snuffing out the evil embedded into it.\"\n\n\"I' couldn't agree more. After you're gone, I'll give myself the final cut. I'll erase 'Heroes' from this world. I'll save it from ourselves.\"\n\n\"You'll pay for your sins, Greg.\"\n\n\"Won't we all?\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: being a witness to a big car accident you instinctively rushed in to save the driver from the burning wreckage, but unbeknownst to you the driver was the son of the city's biggest crime family, and now they owe you a debt of gratitude." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That night was the night I had gathered the courage I needed to tell my then-boyfriend that I was breaking up with him after two years of being a victim to his manipulation.\n\nThat was also the night my life may or may not have changed for the better.\n\nIt was well past twelve when I had decided to drive over to the apartment he stayed at. I slammed down on the brakes as soon as I saw the black car without lights that swerved once. Twice. I watched as the struck the traffic light post and tumbled over thrice before stopping on its back.\n\nFlames erupted from the engine of the car as I exited my own and watched for movement, taking out my phone to dial for paramedics. I heard a cry and looked up from my screen to see a man struggling to free himself from the seatbelt.\n\nIt was perhaps the alcohol in my system, but a sudden bout of courage made me run over to the burning wreck. The car door was somewhere in the middle of the street, broken off as the car had spun out of control.\n\n“Run away!” the man cried out as I took out my hairpin and squatted down near his seat. He grabbed my hand as I reached for the seat belt lock. “You’re going to die as well if the car explodes.”\n\nI shoved the hairpin into the small gap and, in a minute, the lock gave way and he fell onto the roof. I quickly helped him out of the wreckage and ran as fast as I could away from the car, falling to the asphalt as the car burst into flames. I pushed myself off the road and looked back to see him on the road, watching the bonfire that was his car. “Are you waiting for marshmallows?”\n\n“What?” he asked, a look of confusion on his face.\n\n“Nothing,” I said, walking over to him. I pulled him off the ground and helped him to his feet. I noticed the stream of blood running from his hairline to under his chin. “Let me get you to the hospital.”\n\n“What were you thinking, running over to a car that was at the brink of bursting into flames?” he asked as he sat down in the front passenger seat.\n\n“Whiskey?” I asked, picking up my flask and taking a swig as I sat in the driver’s seat. “I shouldn’t be driving this drunk.”\n\n“Let me drive instead,” he said, before opening the door and stepping out.\n\nI sighed, exhausted, before opening the door and stepping out to let him in. “Consider yourself lucky.” I walked over to the passenger seat and got in the car. “Nobody is allowed to drive this vehicle except me, usually. Tonight, you are lucky enough to do so.”\n\n“Your voice is slurring already,” he said as he took out his phone. He dialed for someone as I watched on. “Tell father that I’ll be reaching tomorrow. Not tonight.” He hung up the call and put his hands on the steering wheel. That was when I noticed the ring on his finger.\n\n“You don’t look married,” I mumbled, leaning my head back.\n\n“I’m not.” He gazed at me as he shifted the car into drive. “That’s a family ring.”\n\n“That is one beautiful ring, anyways.” I smiled. “I would propose marriage to you with that, if that wasn’t a family ring.”\n\n“Where were you on your way to at midnight?” he asked, shrugging off my drunken comment.\n\n“Soon-to-be ex’s place.” I gestured at the can of gasoline in the space between the back seat and the front seats. “Had a message for him.”\n\n“I thought I smelt gasoline.” He stopped the car and turned to her. “So, arson?”\n\n“Sounds bad when you put it like that.” I shrugged. “He has been manipulating me into helping him out, money-wise. For two fucking years. He deserves…”\n\n“I’m surprised you haven’t caught fire,” he commented. “Your breath alone should have enough alcohol to set that off.”\n\n“Needs a spark in contact with it,” I mumbled before taking another swig of the bottle.\n\nHe handed me a card. “Rafael Serrano. Businessman, of sorts.”\n\n“Alice Anderson,” I replied, taking the card from him. “Fancy card.”\n\n“For tonight, I owe you my life. If you need help with anything or if you need company, give me a call. And, don’t do arson. Not worth the prison sentence,” he said before opening the door.\n\nBefore I blacked out, I saw him walking away from the car towards the hospital entrance." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You are a genius who develops your powers by accident. Unfortunately, you are a slave, and you have to fight your way through a war between the humans of the earth and the humans of the sky." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It's a good thing I didn't have to fight the best of my class, the other two. The only problem was that, without the ability to control my body, I was useless.\n\nI was born without the ability to control my body. I couldn't even move. It was my whole reason to be there in the first place. In the end, it was just a side bonus of the super secret I'd been working on. What I had thought was a side deal, a little mind trick, a side side side effect. I still do not believe in miracles, but I just thought it'd be neat.\n\nI was a genius, I got my powers by accident. I could control my body, I could stop time or manipulate gravity. I used that power to make a few cool inventions. I even used it to make a few cool things. There was the time I could stop time when I pushed the button. The time I could control the weather. I could do stuff that even I, a normal person, couldn't.\n\nBut, I was useless.\n\nI was born with a terrible condition. I was always vulnerable to being stabbed or killed. It was part of how I was raised in the north. But, I was also very intelligent, and I knew my own abilities. I could change into a different personality, and I could work things and people together. I could change my mind.\n\nI got the powers by accident. I was good at everything I did, and I was a genius. But, that's not what made me a genius. I got my powers by accident.\n\nSo, I'm here. I'm a slave on the side of a front line. Every day, I have to take a trip. Some new one, some old one. I can be a genius, but I am not a good slave.\n\nI'm not like the other slaves you see, I can control myself. I can fly. I can read minds. I can read minds. I can read minds. I can read minds. I can read minds.\n\nI got my powers by accident. I got them by accident.\n\nI get home from the trip. I open the door and throw my arms around my body. I look back at the outside world, to see the day that I didn't get my powers. I look back at myself, and I look back at the door. I look back at my body.\n\nIt's empty. I haven't died yet.\n\nWhy am I here? Why have I died? I still don't know.\n\nI don't know.\n\nI turn on the television and watch the news. My name is on the news. I'm the first person to see my name on the news. I don't know.\n\nI'm on screen, and I'm sitting down. I put my hand down on the TV, and I see the news.\n\n\"Lori. You died today.\"\n\nI don't understand. How did I die? I don't understand.\n\nI turn off the TV, and I sit down next to my body. I'm in my body. I'm not in the outside world anymore. My body is gone.\n\nI look at the clock on my neck. It's the end of the world. My life is gone. I don't have a name. I don't have a future.\n\nI look around at the world. I'm alone. I am alone. I am dying.\n\nI look at my body. I'm dying I can't feel my presence anymore. I don't know if I'm dead anymore, or if I'm dead. I was dead.\n\nI look at my feet. I am dead I have no feet. I walk away.\n\nI look at my hand. I can't feel my own hand. I have no hands. I don't walk like I used to anymore.\n\nI look at my face. I am naked. I am naked. I don't have eyes anymore. I can see through my skin.\n\nI look at myself. It is me. I don't have a face anymore. My face is gone. In my body.\n\nI look at my hands. I am naked. I am naked.\n\nThere is no me, no me. There is no me.\n\nI am death. I am death. I am death. I am death. I am death. I am death." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You tried to quit smoking, but it's hard. You've tried stop drop and roll, cold turkeys, everything! Still, you've been on fire for a while now and it doesn't seem THAT bad. Probably." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "RING RING RING\n\n\"I can't go anywhere with you, can I?\" Simon asked, as he ushered me out of the restaurant we had just entered. He smiled at me, but I could tell he was annoyed.\n\n\"Simon, really, you don't have to stay with me-\"\n\n\"Jen. I love you, we'll make it work,\" He assured me, careful to put his hand on my left wrist, one of the few safe places on my body. Firefighters rushed passed us. One stopped just short of me, and ushered his coworkers. I soon found myself under a dogpile of rescue workers, rolling my body around in fire blankets. When that didn't work, they blasted me with the house.\n\n\"Simon! Papers!\" You'd think after three weeks, my idiot boyfriend would have my medical papers and an explanation ready in 0.3 seconds, but nooooo. After repeating the story for the 188th time, Simon and I finally get out of that mess. As we walk away from the rescue workers, I fall to the curb. Again, I hope that maybe my tears will do something useful, like put out the fire, but no luck. Simon sits down next to me. I reach for his shoulder. He flinches.\n\n\"Oh god, Jen, I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"No, no. It's not your fault that you have a girlfriend who will burn you. It's not your fault that you can't go on nice dates to fancy restaurants. That we can't go to movies. That we can't even have sex! Really, for your own good, you should leave me.\"\n\nSimon looked at me for what felt like an eternity. Then he smiled.\n\n\"Jennifer, if I left you, then I wouldn't be able to tell the guys I'm with the hottest girl around, would I?\"\n\nSilence.\n\nThen, I laughed. I laughed for the first time in three weeks. I laughed, and the flames raged on, and it wasn't so bad.\n\nThen, Simon stood up, told me to wait there, and he ran back into the restaurant. I waited for nearly hour. I was so sure he had left. That he had picked that perfect zinger. That he had been determined to leave me with a smile, and I had just given him the perfect opportunity to leave.\n\nThen, I saw him. Flanked by a series of waiters. Two carried a table. Another had a metal stool in one hand and a more typical chair in the other. Another balanced two full plates in his hands. The last brought a bottle of wine and two glasses. The five waiters hurriedly set up the table for us, glanced at me, and bolted.\n\n\"I told them if they didn't serve us, you'd find their gas main and blow up the restaurant with everyone in it,\" Simon explained as he poured me a glass of Cabernet.\n\n\"So have you turned me into some sort of supervillain?\" I gladly accepted the glass. He poured himself one, and started to toast, but then he paused.\n\n\"We're missing something, aren't we?\" He smiled, reached into his jacket, and procured a small candle. He placed it in the center of the table. He then reached for my left wrist.\n\n\"May I borrow your lighter, madamoiselle?\"\n\n\"You may.\" He lit the candle with my hand. Then he raised his glass again.\n\n\"To never going out.\"\n\n\"To never going out.\"\n\nWe brought our glasses together, and then separated, each taking a long drink before enjoying the rest of our date." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: In your world, trees are living, sentient, and intelligent. They don't want to die. You are in the world's most dangerous profession- you are a lumberjack." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Beep. Beep. Beep.\n\nAnother day.\n\nMy back creaks and my muscles shake. Through the crusty slits of my eyelids I fumble over to the sink. My sticky hands are washed clean by the scalding hot city water. Scorching... melting... flames shooting up from my fingers, the skin dissolving and flowing down the sink in a bright red sludge... I hold my skeletal hands up to my face as the bones tumble down in a messy pile at the bottom of the bowl.\n\nWoah. Hold up. I open my eyes again. The water's not that hot. My hands are fine, clean. Squeaky knob spins and the water turns to ice. I take a ragged breath and splash my face. That's the stuff.\n\nI got a clean uniform? Oh good, one left. I throw on the thick rubber jumpsuit and zip it up tight. Dry cleaning can never quite wash the smell out. It's that sickening sweet. I hold in my vomit. I'm getting good at that.\n\nNext, the mask. It fits tight to my skin. Sometimes I wish I could grow a beard. Not in this profession. No time to think like Frank.\n\nI'm employee #16437.\n\nSlam the door. Down the stairs. Out another. Might be a nice day outside this suit. Might be nice to feel the sun on my skin, breathe the unfiltered, early spring air. But that's Frank talking. Frank's not home right now.\n\nGet on the bus. Sit down. People are staring. People always stare. What they don't know, can't see through the dark lenses... is I stare back.\n\nThis is what you made me do. I hope you feel proud. Sit in your chairs. Eat at your tables. Frank can't do those things anymore, because of you and because of me. It's no one's fault. It's everyone's fault. It's an inevitability. This job. What else is so god damn abundant, what else could we use? Metal, plastic, that stuff costs coin. There's problems with both that it solves easy. But it costs something else entirely. It's not some imaginary number somewhere in a bank account, it's scars. Scars running deep through the valley that never heals.\n\nBut they're just murderers, just terrorists, just drug lords. Oh, but they're just arsonists, just thugs, just vandals. Why should I care? They're just thieves, they're just conspiracy theorists, they're just people who disagree with the government. They're just litterers, jaywalkers, people who speak their opinion a little too loudly.\n\nThey're JUST TREES.\n\nWHY SHOULD I CARE?\n\nMy stop. I step off. More doors. That familiar brick hallway. The screams, always the screams. I punch in. 7:57. Down another hallway. It's all automatic. My room. I sit down at my chair... I swallow but my throat is dry. The first of the day is always the hardest. The tiny room presses in on me.\n\nTick. Tock.\n\nSLAM, the far door busts open. In they come, two guys in my uniform got the bastard in chains. It's just shouting in its tongue, the same few syllables over and over and over, fighting with everything it's got. Its branches whip around the room, the few leaves it has left scatter everywhere. I reach over and click the red button on my recorder.\n\n\"Any last words?\" I utter.\n\nIt leans forward, the men yank back on the chains. \"EP-TU! EP-TU!\" Then it starts in on me. I hear some stuff I know. Human. Unfair. Die.\n\nI know it's unfair. We used to get sent records of the people we murder. Made us feel a little better. Now they don' t even grace us with that. Probably because if we knew who we were killing, we'd all quit. You could be a murderer. Or you could be a janitor. It's not our job to know anymore.\n\nIf it means anything, Frank is sorry.\n\nI stop recording. I reach over. I pull the handle. The sound drowns out its words.\n\nIt doesn't drown out the screams.\n\nThey're just trees, Frank." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: Gosh darn it, my horns and wings don't mean I'm a demon. I'm a dragon for goodnes sake!!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Tolos sighs \"Has it really been that long that people have forgotten how a dragon looks like?\" he asks \"Get away from me fiend!\" human shouts in fear. Tolos thought a moment \"My goodness how spineless you are. Did you impress your wife with that attitude?\" Tolos taunts. Man is absolutely baffled by this. \"Not fair to taunt me like that\" man says irritated now.\n\n\"I am going to keep taunting if you keep being a worm and not listening to me\" Tolos says mildly bothered by the situation. Tolos thought about what he should do after this, because this isn't an isolated incident of somebody calling him a demon than a dragon. This is now seventh time and he is becoming concerned a bit about what is going on in human world.\n\n\"You said you are a dragon? I thought all of them disappeared or were killed decade ago\" man says realizing his mistake and is confused of the situation at hand. \"That is who I am exactly, name is Tolos. No, ever since the humanity for the most part started going down the imperialism road, we just migrated to live somewhere a bit more isolated.\n\nBecause we know where the empire business will go further down that road. I am not sure whether all of my kin know that fate but, I certainly have seen writing on the wall and I rather not be part of that\" Tolos explains being curious of man's confusion \"There has been other empires at some point?\" man asks surprised by this fact.\n\n\"Did your kind stop writing history? Such a mistake, my goodness young man, while elders might not have the best advice for every situation, they have seen and experienced things worth writing about\" Tolos says mildly baffled by this discovery. \"Probably because people rather not remember the bad things?\" man replied.\n\nTolos hummed in a thoughtful tone \"An understandable answer in emotional level but, just an excuse in logical stand point. History is quite important, I do agree that one shouldn't become obsessed over it but, to not know it, is a great mistake and they double up as interesting stories to read here and there\" Tolos says mildly letting passion show in his words.\n\nMan observes Tolos body for a moment. There is plenty of scars, indicating that this dragon is not shy about confrontations, heck, Tolos probably loves it. \"Our land has been invaded by demons and now they have become a daily sight to us\" man says. Tolos hums in thoughtful tone \"I understand your initial reaction now then\" Tolos says and continues thinking.\n\n\"Would you like me to help you then?\" Tolos asks out of interest \"We need all the help we can get\" man says \"Climb on, we need some equipment before if we have to fight\" Tolos says, crouches the let the man ride him. Man climbs on and Tolos starts walking towards his home cavern. \"What is your name young man?\" Tolos asks as they travel.\n\n\"Reiu, Reiu Gavelon\" Reiu says \"What kind of equipment?\" Reiu asks \"Mostly to some protection for you and way to... Hmm... Push away the energies of the damned and keep it off of you, while a dragon might be quite resistant to it, I rather not expose myself to it in first place and get all of the time I possibly can get for longer battles if it does come down to it\" Tolos says.\n\n\"I have seen those nightmares... Thank you for this\" Reiu says fully remembering those incidents \"What made you go off the path most walked to accidentally encounter me?\" Tolos asks as enters a cavern large enough for him \"Scouting for new path ways between the realms\" Reiu says \"Well, at least your kind are active in it's efforts\" Tolos says.\n\n\"You look forward to battle the damned, do you?\" Reiu asks somewhat worried \"It is not my first time young man, to my memory this is now third time, in case you are going to ask. I have heard about one, seen one and this the third\" Tolos says \"Well, I guess I should be glad to meet you then Tolos\" Reiu says. \"Indeed you are Reiu\" Tolos says and slows down.\n\nTolos has cast few lights into this particular room of the cavern. Reiu looks around, it is almost like a museum but, for a dragon. \"You have done maintenance for all of this?\" Reiu asks as Tolos crouches to allow Reiu to drop down safely \"Of course I have, didn't I say about the importance of history\" Tolos says eagerly. Reiu looks around, despite his stance towards history.\n\nEven he is now very curious of the items in here. \"I will guess many of these have their stories\" Reiu says \"Indeed they do, Reiu, indeed they do\" Tolos says with warm passion. He looks around letting out a hum of thinking and maybe partly reminiscing. \"There they are\" Tolos says as he sees what he is looking for." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: You are a farmer in medieval europe. A time traveler gives you a glock, lot's of boxes of ammo and teaches you how to use it. How will you change history?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This is magic isnt it?\n\nThis is the devil's will.\n\nWhat could i possibly do with this tool and knowledge?\n\nWhat will they think of me now?\n\nThe tax collector came by my door this morning. He was overcharging me again for the amount of land i have. My yield seems to get smaller yet he asks for more each time. Soon it will topple my economy. My farm wont feed the citizens and the king's stock hold at the same time. If only the king knew about the balance of food and life. If only his wise advisors warn him of the dangers of starvation. If he could let up, if he could listen, Maybe then, could we truly prosper as a country.\n\nIm just an old man, rambling my thoughts back and forth like the rattling of this gadget of sorcery dangling beside me. None have yet to ask what it is. Ill make sure this is kept secret. The way those animals burst from the inside was nothing short of the horrors of hell. Imagine the terror of the citizens or villagers seeing the might and awesome power of this... \"gun\".\n\nThe man, he said he came from another time.\n\nHe told me things that reminded me of my childhood education. My father would always tell me there is a reason and mechanism for all moving things. There was something before, and will always be something after. The sciences this strange future man has shared with me have nearly been forgotten. How the metal flies through the air or why it makes living things bleed so dramatically. Its not sharper than any sword. It barely is thinner than a mallet's tip. And my understanding of the easy part is what keeps me from insanity.\n\nThe people have started to ask questions. The loud booms at night echo through the palace they tell each other. Rumors are spreading as if there is a secret war invisible to them. Since catapults can only reach so far they guess for weeks with no idea it is one that lives among them that is causing such unsettlement. I must practice my aim in another area. Perhaps deep in the forest.\n\nA year has passed, and As i travel back to my farmland i see him again with a larger cart than before. He has 2 guards instead of one today. And two carts. He shouldnt ask for any more. I can tell one guard is a rookie as the other explains every step taken and every action's reasoning. He tells him about the justice of the king and how they must have more to be more. Their strength is as thick as their skulls. But no matter how thick this \"gun\" and it's \"bullets\" will pass through their heads as if i have tossed a pebble in the water.\n\n\"Do not take another step\" i said to the three\n\n\"This is my farm and i refuse to let my villagers die for the sake of a greedy king\"\n\n\"Our' king.\" The veteran guard stated. His voice as manly as his beard.\n\n\"We have out duty. And just as we are meant to protect the kingdom by our strength, you are meant to nourish and replenish that with your harvests.\" He continued\n\nThe tax collector then butted in \"it matters not what villagers live or die for the king is worth their lives and more\"\n\n\"There will be nothing left to rule here if he lets them starve.\" I said with gritted teeth \"could you leave enough foods for the villagers, ill bargain anythin-\"\n\n\"ENOUGH\" he interrupted \"i will not bring anything less than what his majesty demands!\"\n\n\"Guards, carry the last of if to the carts\"\n\nAs they carry the crates i see the carts full of just about everything i had. They took more than they said they would. And in my frustration i decided i would kill them. Without hesitation i took the gun and fired it.\n\nThey were startled by the noise yet, did not realize they were in any danger. I aimed for something to make noise, broke a hinge off the cart, glad the horses carrying it were safe. Soon, when they realized i was the source of the noise with my stance of the point aimed at them. Noticing the damage behind them, they started to flinch at my hands as i choose their life shall cease this morning.\n\nThe boy must be 18 yeasts or less of age. His body crouched with hands on head begging for mercy \"do not curse me with the sorcery you have inflicted upon the others\" \"my mind is righteous and the king is holy\" he said \"ive nothing but lived a life for the sake of justice\" he continued \"please i beg you\"\n\n\"HARK! Go, tell your king that this village is soverign of him\" i said \"take one horse and leave the other to me. Tell him that this village is now its own kingdom, with an army of one and that if he values anything he will heed my words with great fear. I alone, can end his entire kingdom\"\n\n...\n\n.\n\nI have alot i could do with this. I wanna go so far into the history change, theory, gun techniqies, and war strategies that could go on, like the anime \"GATE\" but...\n\nI could continue this.... lemme know what you think" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You made yourself all but impossible to find. Your engine designs power most of the starships in the quadrant, you own your own moon, wars have been fought over you. You're retired, yet, someone found you. They have one last job for you, and you find you can't refuse." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Theripedes was starting to regret taking this meeting. He didn’t have much choice, when a galactic head of state storms in flanked by security dressed in space suits that include feathers and swords he at least listened to what they had to say.\n\nThe Pope sat across from him in all white, he was even wearing the tall white hat. He said something in Latin. The gold chains around his neck rattled slightly.\n\nA small woman in a Cardinal outfit acting as the translator said “No one else could design this.”\n\nThe Pope pushed a small bit of paper across the desk. Behind it the translator placed a collection of papers barely being held in a manila folder.\n\nTheripedes looked at the paper. It was simple, and yet baffling. Seven words. He picked up the folder and started looking through it.\n\nThere was work on this going back four thousand years. Most of it dated back to before the Galactic Church. Some pages went back to before the age of spaceflight. Hell before flight. A few were marked with an imperial banner, he was sure was the seal of the Holy Roman Empire. That couldn’t be true though.\n\nNo one was crazy enough to do this.\n\n“I don’t think any sane person would say they could do this.” Theripedes said carefully.\n\nThe Pope nodded slowly.\n\n“The mathematics alone would take centuries on quantum racks.” The translator put another pile of papers on the table as well as a crystal tablet link that glowed slightly pink. Theripedes feared what it would show.\n\n“The materials haven’t been invented for this. Any action for this would take Millenia.”\n\nThe Pope leaned forward “Millenia we have.” he said.\n\nThe translator placed a black cheque in front of Theripedes. “You will have unlimited funding for this, and the Reformed Catholic Galactic Church is willing to use all of the technology at our considerable disposal. This would include anything in the Spheres of Apolists. You will have full access.”\n\n“What’s the catch?” Theripedes knew how this sort of thing worked. They wouldn’t offer this much without a large 'BUT'. He was already old, and had everything he could ever want.\n\nThe Pope laughed.\n\nThe Translator said “You will be in our service until completion. This will be using immortal technology from a pact when you agree to this. You will not be permitted to move on from the project without being signed off or being canonised by a living Pope. This is effectively an in perpetuity contract.” She produced a reading crystal and placed it on top of the folders. It waited for a signature.\n\n“People will say this is impossible.” Theripedes replied already knowing he was going to take it. Who didn’t want near immortality, even if it was under the Church. Anyway, seeing into the secrets of the most secretive galactic power, who could resist?\n\n“It will be a miracle. The greatest miracle. It will resonate across the galaxy.” The translator said with awe in her voice.\n\nThe seven words were still visible. “Earth in the middle of the galaxy\". Thousands of pages backing this idea of what was basically reverse heliocentrism. Showing the glory and the destiny of man by having them be what the whole galaxy revolves around.\n\n“Technically just Sol will move. And the solar system for this Stellar Engine you’re asking for.” Theripedes added “and then we feed the sun into the black hole. We use the black hole as a way to siphon off near infinite energy, slowing you down, and putting you into orbit with all the energy and resources you could ever need.\n\n“And then the whole galaxy will look at the wonder of man. The wonder of being who can move the very stars to their will by the grace of God. Every world will be moved by the beauty of Man. Every person will be under the influence of the Catholic Church.” The awe continued in her voice.\n\nOf course there were so many problems with this. They’d still be orbiting the supermassive black hole, not replacing it. Though they were saying with god’s gift of the sun fed into it, it made it part of the great work, and the black hole would count as the sun now. There were a lot of weird religious overtones that didn’t make much sense if you looked at it from a point of view not inside the Church.\n\nNone of that mattered though for the thrill of doing what couldn’t be done.\n\nIt looked like Theripedes was going to change the Galaxy again. This time he couldn’t even die trying." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: A young billionaire has given up his fortune and traveled into the mountains in search of \"something greater than all the world's wealth\"..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Tom balanced the bundle of branches as he ascended the rock strewn hill to his small cabin. He kept up a brisk pace, his breath escaping as small puffs of fog in the morning sun, he had never been in this good of shape before. Years of sitting at his computer had given him small calves, narrow shoulders and a flat undefined stomach with a bit of paunch. Today he had gotten up and washed his face with the cold well water like every morning and looked in the mirror, really looked. His shoulders were square, his abs were visible, his body had finally begun to change.\n\nAs he reached his cabin he set the wood under the lean-to awning and opened the door to his rough-hewn cabin. He took the soot covered kettle off the fire and poured a cup of tea and sat in one of the chairs near the fireplace. He sipped this mint tea, one of the few modern day pleasures he hadn't abandoned, he dreaded having to kick that habit. He stared at the walls constructed from wood slats around him and remembered what it was like building them. Twelve of his weekends had been spent chopping and cutting the wood with hand tools then raising the cabin one wall at a time. Blisters covered his hands after the first weekend, so much so that he was unable to type without pain on Monday. The wounds had quickly calloused and the following weekends went much more smoothly. He looked at his hands, rougher than they had ever been, they hadn't been soft for almost five years.\n\n\"Oh\", Tom stood up and looked at the calendar hanging on the wall near the door. It was October fourth, exactly five years since he had moved to his hilltop home in the Smoky Mountains, five years since he had become a modern day Thoreau, though Tom's writing hadn't come along nearly as smoothly as the old man's had. He looked at the notebooks he had filled, stacked high on the shelf under the window, around twenty of them were balanced precariously, blocking out a quarter of the window's light.\n\nTom went outside headed toward the gate three miles down the overgrown rock road. Kate from the Times would likely be waiting in her SUV sipping some concoction of coffee, milk and sugar waiting for him. She came every year on the anniversary of his exit from modern society, something he had foolishly agreed to upon announcing his exit from his company. He wondered how many articles she would be able to squeeze out of him until people got bored reading about him chopping wood, catching squirrels and tending his garden.\n\nHe crunched over the dead leaves, around the final bend toward their meeting spot, looking for a glint of sun off the automobile's windows but he found nothing. No car, no reporter, maybe she was late. Tom never had many visitors, his father had come to see him several times during the first two years of his hermitage but he had passed away four months after his last visit. Tom had had him laid to rest a under a tree a few miles from his shack, he tried to make the hike at least once every other week. He never \"spoke\" with his father or his headstone at least, but the view was beautiful and Tom enjoyed the flood of memories that he had when he made the trip.\n\nHe started a small fire with some thin twigs and shredded bark and warmed up another cup of tea. He figured he would wait an hour or so for the reporter, if she didn't show he would return to his home and wait until next year.\n\nHis friend Dave hadn't been by in two years, he had left angry during their last visit. Their first day together involved lots of fishing and chatting about philosophy, something they often did after a long day of work back when they were both living out of their small office building. Dave had brought up some financial strategies he wanted to discuss and Tom had steered the conversation back to anything else, from what he remembered he had commented on the weather. But Dave was persistent, he wanted advice. He was a great coder, could be told what to build but never really had any imagination. Dave could take other people's ideas and breath life into them but he had none of the creative spark that others had, Tom had filled that position. Tom flatly told him that the company was his problem now and Dave had left after rowing them both back to shore.\n\nAfter a little more than an hour, Tom kicked dirt over the fire and poured the last cups of his water onto the smoldering remains. During his stroll back up the road he smiled. Finally, he was free it seemed. He would know for sure by next year, if no one with a key to his gate came to visit and no reporter showed up next October fourth and he hadn't staved to death he would count the venture as a success. It had taken five years but he had been patient. It had taken just as long to build his business and another five years to grow it into the monster of the technology world that it currently was. Tom had always been patient, he knew focusing on a goal would bring results and his focus seemed to finally be paying off again. He had been the best in school, he had been rich and successful and soon he would be free." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Death gives you his scythe for a day. Your first charge is a little girl who you can't bring yourself to take, so you let her live. 5 minutes later a car starts careening towards her. You save her. A window falls from a tall building... the universe wants her dead." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I twirled my scythe with enthusiasm. Even though it was for a day I was still happy that I got a chance of living my dream which was to be a God. A God of Death to be exact. Even though I would lose my powers and its effect would stop when the day would be over, a God was a God after all even it was for a day.\n\nI searched for my first target. Death told me it would be someone with a red heart over their head. My heart was prepared. A single strike of my scythe and I could change someone's fate. Not just his/hers but of people around her too. I was filled with a sense of power and pride when my eyes finally met my target's- she was a little girl whose smile beamed with life and zest. I hesitated and looked again. There was a red heart over her head. I couldn't believe my luck.\n\nMy fingers gripped around the scythe but I couldn't just do it. She was so young. She had so much to live for. She wasn't yet dead. She hadn't meet life's bitterness yet. Her smile was bright and I couldn't just end it so quickly. I wanted her happiness to last longer. While my eyes searched for excuses, I just waved my scythe at her for a fraction of a second when I realised what I had done.\n\nI saw a car careening towards her but my body involuntarily went for her,dragging her to the sidewalk. She looked at me, her surprise as fresh as mine when I saw a dog barking at us. It ran towards us with full throttle when I heard gasps around me and a cry above my head. I saw a window falling down straight on us when I threw ourselves on the ground,barely escaping the falling glass. I looked back at her, she was terrified now. She teared up and gave a cry. \"Banksy\" she screamed. Following her gaze,I understood she meant the dog. It was on the ground, lifeless, it's soft fur stained crimson red and shards of glass lodged on it's small body as they sparkled. I saw the red heart empty out and then disappear after a second. On my right I heard loud cries and screams of horror. A car had crashed straight into a light post. Some people tried to get the driver out of the car, a guy was on the ground with a lifeless hand in their hand. The woman who was barely recognisable under the car, murmured something I realised from the movement of her lips, had her heart empty out too. The guy gave out a loud cry,and held her hand tightly between his palms. The small girl cried her heart out who was still under my embrace as I tried to stop her to go away any further.\n\nI was lost. I knew something was wrong. I tried to recollect my thoughts. I blamed myself for being foolish. Not knowing how to control my powers, I brought so much pain around me. Before I could think straight, a guy with a bag, came running through this commotion, the bundles of paper notes visible from his hastily zipped bag. Before the police could catch him, he fired his gun suddenly as an attempt to intimidate the police but the bullet came straight towards us. I barely swerved when it hit a pot of plant. I realised we were infront of a florist shop. My heart skipped a beat. I saw the the plant lose its red heart. Maybe I could stop any further mishaps I thought. The florist came running to us all worried. I knew it was cruel to plants but I had to do something if I had to save her. When the day would be over,I would lose my power. I thought to take the chance.\n\n\"Are you alright?\" Asked the florist.\n\n\"Uhm yeah-\" I saw the guy with gun being carried away by the police when I turned to the florist.\n\n\"Do you need something\" he asked.\n\n\"Yeah.\" I nodded \"Maybe I could buy some of your plants and some seeds too\" I said.\n\nI bought the seeds as I tried to reason out the death of the plants I would cause to save the girl when I noticed from the corner of my eye a familiar silhouette. It was Death. He was smirking at us. I knew it wasn't just that the universe that wanted her dead but it was a trap all along, set up by him for his enjoyment." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 600-700 words. Prompt: A nature documentary based around mythical creatures of the land, sea, and/or sky." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "HDMI 1. That's what's at the top left corner of the television says when it's turned on. Each time the cursor moves it makes a familiar click until the app of choice if found. Myth Hustlers, that's the name of the show and the one she enjoys watching each night after work.\n\n\"Tonight, on Myth Hustlers,\" says a disembodied voice of a man. His voice is smooth and easy to listen to. He speaks clearly and annunciates each word with a subtle but noticeable British accent.\n\n\"We dive deep into the darkest parts of the Caribbean,\" he continues. \"For centuries they were thought of as a myth. Pirates spoke rare kind words of their beauty. Sailors from all around the world drowned at the sight of them just to get a closer look.\"\n\nThe picture is panning above the ocean. It's an obvious drone shot but very well done. Professional quality that one would expect from a documentary on a major network. Then it dives into the water. Colorful fish and eels swim about but then something unexpected. The rocky seafloor at the bottom begins to morph into what looks like an underwater city. From above it looks like a reef covered ocean floor but on closer inspection it takes shape and life.\n\n\"Could this be the lost city of Atlantis?\" says the commentator. \"Until recently there was only speculation. Children dreamed and scholars scoffed at the idea. No one could have guessed how amazing it truly was until a Spanish team came searching for lost gold rumored to be in this very spot where a ship sunk during the conquistador days. The gold was never recovered but what they found instead is priceless.\"\n\nBubbles rise in front of the camera as it continues to sink to the bottom towards the underwater city. It's empty but amazing to look at. With all the technological advances of today everyone who is watching still wonders at the marvels of the ancient world.\n\n\"Sadly, we are yet to find a live mermaid. Perhaps they left long ago. Perhaps they have become extinct. Whatever the case we have more than just stone carvings now to prove their existence.\"\n\nPictures of mermaids appear on the screen. They line the walls of the underwater city and some even still have faded color left on them. Once brilliant purples and reds and yellows, they are merely a shadow of what they once were. Everything else is just the outline carved into the wall. They're vague and not easy to make out, even to the trained eye.\n\n\"But what we do have is this.\" The screen cuts to a man in a museum. He's wearing a brown explorers hat and glasses. His button up shirt is a lighter shade of brown but looks comfortable for long treks through the jungle.\n\n\"My name is Dr. Bennet Brown and I'm the head director of the Caribbean Museum of the Underwater City,\" he says. The camera pans over a glass case with skeletal remains starting from the head and going towards the feet. At first, it looks to be human but halfway down, around the waist, it morphs into a fish-like tail. This is anything but human.\n\n\"We call her Suzy,\" says Dr. Bennet Brown. \"We know she's a female because of her bone structure. Her pelvis is similar enough to ours that we can make out a birth canal. She was found with this.\"\n\nDr. Bennet Brown holds up a gold coin. A Spanish gold coin like the kind lost in the shipwreck the Spanish team was looking for. \"It was tucked away in her hand. We still don't know how she died but our team is working to find that out. Right now our best guess is trauma to the head from sinking debris like from a shipwreck.\"\n\n\"That's all for today,\" says the British sounding commentator when the show finally ends after a lengthy hour of material between the underwater city and various experts. \"Join us next time when we explore dragons. Only on Myth Hustlers!\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: The villain falls in love with the hero and purposefully commits crimes so they can see them." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Taylor never wanted to be a villain per se but life sometimes doesn't leave you many options. Getting kicked out of his family at an early age, because his parents were terrified of his powers and then drifting around abusive foster homes left him with few options. He lived on the street for a while until he ended up trying to mug the wrong woman one day. She gave him a choice help her and live or die from a 45 slug to the temple. Not really much of a choice.\n\nWhile Taylor was initially terrified of the woman, he started to look up to Ami after a while. She did awful unthinkable things but she took care of him and raised to him run her little ring of villainy. After six years of being with Ami, Taylor soon found himself in command of the gang after Ami tragically got caught up in a gunfight.\n\nThings went on about the same for the next year for Taylor and the gang, committing robberies here and there, or other villainous acts to survive. Then things took a new turn for Taylor, he was sitting on a rooftop in downtown scouting out a diamond store for the gangs next hit when he noticed a new Hero patrolling the area. Taylor had recently seen this Hero on the news earlier in the week while doing some research on his enemies. If he remembered correctly the hero went by Wattly, Amp Man, or some other stupid sounding electrical based name. Taylor never could understand how heroes came up with these terrible names. He was actually pleased with the name the media had given him, Spectre the shadow villain. He still thought it sounded really generic and something out of comic book but it was better than Amp Man.\n\nTaylor was pretty bored so he decided to follow the hero around for a while from the roof tops. He was surprised at what he saw the Hero seemed pretty genuine unlike most of the others in it for fame or money. The fledgling hero stopped to help several homeless people directing them to a local shelter, and even bought a few sandwiches while making his rounds. He helped a man setup his bodega in the early morning hours, and helped a drunkard leaving the bar find a ride home. Overall Taylor was surprised and curious about the new Hero.\n\nOver the next few weeks when Taylor had free time or was out scouting locations for a new job he'd get bored and go look for the new Hero to see what kind of bad things the hero did when no one was watching, but to his utter dismay every night if the hero wasn't trying to stop a crime he was usually helping the less fortunate. After a few days of digging Taylor learned that the hero's name was in fact Amp Man, his real name was Connor, he had electrical based powers, where he went to school, and even found his Facebook page. Now Taylor insists that he is not a stalker, but just doing research on the enemy in case they ever have to fight him.\n\nAfter a week of small robberies and being busy Taylor decided to go look for the fledgling Hero to tame his boredom. Taylor soon found him walking his usual patrol route, and an idea came to his mind a very very bad idea too help ease his boredom. He'd break into the bank just down the street and play with the new Hero a bit. Taylor didn't really plan on robbing the bank, but figured it'd be an easy way to grab the hero's attention for a little cat and mouse game.\n\nWalking up the front steps of the bank at 2am made it pretty easy for Taylor to hide in the shadows. He walked up to the large double glass doors, pulled his arm back and thrust it forward into one of the large glass panes instantly shattering the glass and most of the bones in his hand. Looking disappointedly at his hand it soon began to turn to dust and then reformed back too its original status. He stood on the front steps waiting and listening to the loud alarm wail into the night as he pulled his black bandana up around his face. Soon enough the new Hero came running down the street in the bright yellow and black suit they had on.\n\n\"Stop right there villain, I cannot let you rob this fine establishment. Please don't resist arrest because I don't wish to harm you for that is not Amp Man's style.\"\n\nThis was the closest Taylor had ever been to the young hero and noticed they were probably both in their early twenties, and similar heights but much smaller compared to the muscled build of Amp Man.\n\n\"You really are new aren't you, nicely asking somone to stop the crime they're about too commit. Remember niceties are a luxury that most villains can't afford. Let's see if you can catch me Hero.\" Taylor said while smirking under his bandana.\n\nTaylor shot off down the sidewalk not even looking back to see if he was being pursued. He quickly bounded up a fire escape and when he reached the rooftop he could hear the stairs rattling beneath him. Enjoying every second of it he started running again from rooftop too rooftop. The game of cat and mouse went on for the next fifteen minutes with the hero always staying right behind him. Taylor finally came to an end after he stopped a building ledge wth no where too go. He stood on the ledge and turned around waiting for Amp Man too draw near. Taylor pulled down his bandana and looked directly at the hero that was running towards him.\n\n\"That was a lot of fun newbie, thanks for keeping me entertained tonight.\" Taylor said while showing a genuine smile. He held his arms out wide and let gravity take him over the edge of the building.\n\n\"NO, DON'T, STO-\" the panicked hero screamed as he watched the villain throw himself off the rooftop. Just as he was about to finish his sentence he heard rustling and then he saw something incredible. The villain he had been chasing all night was flying right in front of him off the edge of the building with a massive pair of obsidian black and ruby red feathered wings protruding from his back.\n\n\"Oh the look on your face was so worth all this running tonight, until next time Amp Man.\" The villain said flying off into the night" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 400-500 words. Prompt: Aliens contact Earth! They want to peacefully invite the planet to join the Intergalactic community! But they don't care about Humans or our ideas. According to space law, the dominant governing species of Earth is... ants" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The president gaped at the massive starcruiser in a field somewhere in South Dakota.\n\n\"A-aliens?\"\n\nThe man nodded solemnly.\n\n\"Well talk to them man! This is the greatest moment in the history of humanity!\"\n\nThe President stumbled out of his chair envisioning green creatures offering him technologies beyond his wildest dreams. A New America stretching throughout the solar system!\n\n\"Well?\" the president gasped, \"what are you waiting for!?\"\n\nThe man put a finger to his ear. \"Yes...Ants? Are you sure?\" he frowned.\n\nThe man faced the President. \"Well you see...They don't really want to talk with us.\"\n\nHe zoomed in on the video to reveal a column of ants marching up the gangplank carrying assorted pieces of some unfortunate chap's picnic.\n\nA few minutes later every country in the world was broadcasting the achievements and importance of the human race towards the starcruiser. \"CARS, INTERNET, NUCLEAR WEAPONS!(although we are completely peaceful so don't kill us all).\n\nThe president had arrived on scene, where all attempts at contact were going ignored. The only thing going inside the ship was a column of ants.\n\n\"That's it,\" the president called over the alien specialists, \"you lot are going to go inside the ship and talk to them face to face.\"\n\n\"U-us?\" the alien specialists exchanged worried glances, \"surely you should send someone more quali-\"\n\n\"You three know the most about aliens, don't you?\"\n\n\"W-well hypothetically see...\"\n\n...\n\nThe alien watched the three ape like life forms slowly enter the ship.\n\n\"Urrgh, what are those?\"\n\n\"From what the ants say, they're wild beasts who generate food.\"\n\nThe alien marveled at the size of the creatures, the way they walked with slow lumbering strides. Life on earth was fascinating. The ants had been very helpful already.\n\n\"Are these beasts dangerous?\n\n\"No, in fact they seem to be quite intelligent. It is possible we may have mistaken the dominant species on Earth. These creatures have already achieved basic space travel.\"\n\n\"Oh, really? How do they communicate then? Telepathy? Hive mind?\"\n\n\"No, they use complex electromagnetic wave patterns.\"\n\nThe alien looked at the giant creatures again. Maybe they should communicate with them.\n\n...\n\nMeanwhile, the 'alien specialists' were in 'alien specialist' paradise. They walked deeper into the ship, which was filled with all sorts of inexplicable technology.\n\nSuddenly, an alien specialist screamed. Causing the other two to scream as well.\n\n\"What is it! Aliens!?\"\n\n\"No, it was just a spider\" one said, \"Dave killed it.\"\n\n\"Where's Dave?\"\n\nThe two remaining alien specialists looked at the steaming pile of ash on the floor.\n\n...\n\n\"They really are beasts,\" the alien breathed(or as close to breathing as one gets when one is an alien), \"they carelessly killed one of our people.\"\n\n\"We leave at once,.\" the other said, \"this truly is a dangerous planet. The ants were right.\"\n\nThe other two alien specialists were incinerated as well, and the ship jumped into another dimension, leaving Earth with only a small colony of ants with them." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: A translator takes a job, only to learn that he is translating the world's fate." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The teleprompter had an eerie glow to it. The humming from the large fluorescent lights pummeled his eyes during the live television screening. The long speech in front of him was written in Jervois, the second most common language in the eastern galaxies and the Prime Language of Earth after it was introduced by the Jerv'ese race. The extraterrestrials had arrived rather abruptly and began their reign almost two days after moving in to the White House.\n\nJesus stood atop a small stage, sweating and reading aloud the Jervois script. It was written by a faceless bureaucrat, he always had to read these things. No faceless beurocrat alien had ever bothered to learn English. Jesus felt himself feeling dizzy in the lights but knew his family depended on the measly sustenance given to him by his superiors. He read the damned speech.\n\nJesus stuttered briefly but continued \"...And it was always our intention. your leaders have refused to negotiate. We are a democratic race.\"\n\nPause\n\n\"You have failed to ...\" Jesus' voice trailed off. His boss, standing now behind the teleprompter edged forward, his beady black eyes in the middle of his face stared into Jesus' soul threateningly.\n\nJesus couldn't believe what he was reading. The teleprompter read: \"we have evacuated our entire peaceful species. We will report back to the Grand Vizier Harf that Earth is full of nothing but primitive, violent soulless creatures\" the word for creature was roughly translated in Jesus' mind, no word existed in English for what the teleprompter read. \"destruction of your species is imminent\" scrolled the prompter, \"nothing can be done\" Jesus tightened in his chest\n\nHis family flashed before his eyes, his friends, the whole human race.\n\nJesus said \"... Hold your loved ones...\" he hesitated. Looked at his superior, \"... Take them underground...\" The beady eyed alien spun around and walked away. The whole alien crew was already gone, Jesus noticed. The beady eyed alien disappeared through an exit and suddenly Jesus was left standing alone, frightened.\n\n\"I...\" he stuttered.\n\nSuddenly through the roof a loud noise reverberated and felt as though it was making its way to the ground. The stage shook and Jesus fell off his stage. He began to cry.\n\nAs the roof came away, a large blimp appeared in the sky above. A man jumped out. Jesus took a second to watch as he graciously dove in. Landing on two feet the man cut his parachut away and turned to the running camera.\n\n\"Hahaha! How do you feel Jesus, you're on live television come on!\" He yelled enthusiastically.\n\n\"what?!\" yelled Jesus\n\n\"That's right! Hahaha! Did you really think a whole alien race was about to tear Earth down the middle and have you on television to announce it!?\"\n\nJesus wasn't sure, he slowly stood. At that moment the wall came away to reveal a large crowd, in it was his wife, children and friends. Jesus let a smile creep on to his face.\n\nThis was the queue, back on Orion Belt Flagship 9 the Jerv'ese commandsman pressed the 'go' button. A laser, larger than the moon sputtered into action and obliterated Earth.\n\nThe families of Orion Five, the largest of the seven Jerv'ese nation planets roared into laughter. Series 1 of Earth had come to a roaring end, ratings were through the roof. It was a shame there could only be one season." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: Being the only militarists in a galactic alliance full of pacifists isn’t fun, especially as they keep needing your nation’s naval support when the other galactic alliance attacks. Thus are the woes of the United Republics of Earth and her Expeditionary Forces." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Okay, listen, we owe our lives to all of you. All of humanity since the encounter owes it to ya’. We will never forget what you guys did for us.\n\nWhen Earth made contact with the Glirya, we thought that we were about to get completely and utterly ruined. They had all that starship and rail gun tech figured out before we did, and they absolutely could have had us then and there if they wanted it bad enough. But they hated war. Their people aren’t as used to combat as we are. Very peaceful, wonderful people. I’ve been ‘round the Ixin system a couple times before. Random people would host me and feed me like a friend of the family. Kinship runs strong with ‘em, so when they found our backwater dying planet back in 2089, they helped us out. They shared their technology, set up embassies, and saved the planet. Earth was pretty fucked back then. Planet was straight up dying with all the pollution and climate change. The Glirya, and all their allies, came together and helped rebuild our planet’s ecosystems and atmosphere. Place looked brand-fuckin-new. Humans hadn’t seen air this clean since we were living in caves. They saved our planet on no other reason than it being the right thing to do. That was awesome.\n\nSo that’s why I’m only mildly annoyed whenever we gotta go across the sector to fight all your dickhead neighbors. I’m a boarding marine onboard the U.R.E.N. Triumphant Dawn. I’m writing this for a Idrisdian newsletter that’s gonna be read on live TV across the Ixin sector. Since y’all are considerate motherfuckers, you wanted to know if we ever get annoyed with having to fight all your wars, since you guys are religiously opposed to any and all violence. Well, kinda.\n\nWe’ve been in the alliance with ya’ for nearly three hundred years now. We all bring something to the table. Gliryans bring the tech, Idrisdians bring the food (which always tastes absolutely wonderful), Opolans bring the raw materials, et cetera. But what does earth bring? Well, we kick ass. I mean, it’s what we’re known for. We have more wars recorded in our planetary history than our entire sector COMBINED. You guys just ain’t built for it like we are. Now, I’m not saying you’re physically incapable, hell no. A couple members of my squad are non-human, and they wax ass like it’s a bodily function. I’m saying that you guys are culturally and morally against causing pain and death, and we respect that. War fucking sucks, but you don’t always get a choice.\n\nThere ain’t no sugar coating it, a lot of humans have given their lives in the border wars over the years we’ve been buddies. Death tolls aren’t pretty, and it’s not even our borders or anywhere close. I used to be a little bitter about it, but that was before I ever went to the Ixin system. An Idrisdian marine in my platoon invited me to see his family home during leave after I saved his ass on Caxi. Not having anywhere better to be, I went. Beautiful place, wonderful people, the best food I’ve ever tasted. Chefs kiss, you guys rock. But I still felt like it was all so disconnected from all the death that humanity faced so that you guys could have it good. I felt like humanity was getting played. That was until I walked into the town square of my buddies’ small, middle-of-nowhere hometown. In the smack-dab center of town square was a twenty foot tall statue of a human marine from the Cyramia border war of 2190. Four million humans died in that conflict that took place on the other side of the alliance space, far from any Ixin system planet. And yet, here was this statue. The plaque beneath had this on it:\n\n“Dedicated to the brave warriors of humanity who fought and died for us without ever knowing the warmth of our suns. You will never be forgotten.”\n\nImma be honest, I knelt down and cried right there. Even way out in the backwater, you guys remembered us. I realized then and there that the greatest thing that humanity could offer was our lives. The lives you gave to us all those years ago.\n\nSo, yeah, doing CQB onboard blockade runners sucks, but it’s just something that’s gotta be done. We’re crazy motherfuckers, but we’re loyal. It don’t matter where or when, we’ll hold up our end of the deal. It’s the least we can do.\n\n(Edit: why is it always my sad military sci-fi posts that do well… In all seriousness, thank you all so much for giving it a read. Means a hell of a lot to me.)\n\n(Edit 2: OKAY, y’all really liked this one! Thank you all so much. Holy shit.)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: An elven Hitman, with their long lifespan greatly overestimated how long their client was willing to wait for a finished job." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Iseabal pulled at his bowstring for the seventh time that decade, feeling its tension lean against him before releasing it, its sound like a whip cracking through the air. He frowned. He was getting restless, a trait he had always frowned upon in other less-experienced assassins. It was not a state of mind that he found acceptable, for the rebirth was only four years late, hardly worth getting impatient over.\n\nHe recited the thousand-page lessons of the Alkar once again to refocus his mind, but he knew that it was the job that was getting to him. It was a long one, even by Elvish standards. The contract was deceptively simple - ensure that Ronan Windshear never saw the light of day again. Yet what his client had neglected to mention, or simply did not realise, was that Windshear was no ordinary mortal. He was a reincarnation of an ancient spirit, whose bond to the Earth could not be broken as easily as by a single death. He would be reincarnated six times on this soil, each time two thousand years apart, each time granted a new body to roam the Earth. Only when each of his six lives had been snuffed out would the spirit fade into oblivion and pass from the mortal world for good.\n\nFour cycles had passed since then. Eight thousand years ago. The earth and seas had shifted several times since then. Each time Iseabal purchased a map from a wandering traveller, the landscape grew even more unrecognisable, the words incomprehensible gibberish written in strange foreign tongues, the great cities he had known in his youth replaced by emptiness and ashes, enormous ravines and volcanoes and rivers rising where there had been nothing before. Iseabal even had trouble remembering the visage of the man who had given him the contract. All he could remember was that he was enormously fat, sweat and raw anger steaming off him like a baked pie, but the face that railed the curses against Windshear was a featureless blur. He frowned. He should have been paid the second tranche of his contract one thousand five hundred years ago, but to this day he had received nothing. In fact, he had heard nothing from his employer for several millennia, ever since a group of the man's soldiers had attempted to ambush him to demand the completion of the contract, mere decades after he had accepted it. It was no matter. He would look for the employer once the task was done, and request that he be paid the full amount. It would not be professional to abandon his post and quibble about money now, when the job had not been completed.\n\nHe shifted his gaze from the rock formation momentarily, flicking past his meagre belongings packed neatly in a corner. He knew many of those in his line of work would not have waited as he had done. They would have returned home, occupied themselves with poetry and dance and music, or performed other contracts in the two-thousand interregnums. He toyed with the idea briefly, imagining wistfully the taste of his mother's broth, the softness of his own bed. His mother had sent him a letter three hundred years ago, asking him whether he would be returning home. He wished he could have written \"tomorrow\", but he simply could not do that. Even the parchments he had brought with him to occupy himself only held incomplete scribblings of his half-hearted poems. Once he accepted a job, his mind did not permit him to wander to anything else. It remained focused on his task, until it had been completed to perfection. That was simply who he was.\n\nHis ears twitched at the sound even before his eyes picked up anything. He drew his arrow in a swift motion, aiming it squarely at the dolmen. A slug-like form rose from the ground slowly, its movements slow and pained, its features barely distinguishable in a morass of sludge. It was barely more than fifty centimetres tall, and it flopped uselessly on the moss-covered stone, unable to support its own weight. The rebirth had started. He nocked the arrow and nearly released it, but hesitated as its head disappeared behind a pillar momentarily. He held his breath, until its head poked out again, and the arrow whistled through the air, carving clean through the sludge, all colour and life immediately fading from it. A spurt of blood splattered onto the stone and he cursed. It hadn't been a clean kill, a result of him taking the first chance he got to execute it, mindful of the fact that in just a few decades, the sludge would grow into the shape of a human, capable of fleeing an arrow far more reliably. He was growing rusty, spending too much time up waiting in these remote mountains. When he returned home, he would dedicate at least a century to working on his craft.\n\nHe stood up, re-arranging the arrows in his quiver as he walked back to his camp, deciding to allow himself a few hours of sleep before returning to his vigil. Soon, this job would be done, and he would collect his reward from his employer, allowing him to finally return home.\n\nEight thousand years down. Only four thousand left to go." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You're an NPC in a video game and the Player Character has finally arrived in your town. Here's your chance! You've been waiting for this moment for a long time..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I was awoken by the sound of loud cheers. I climbed out of my bed and looked outside. A man was riding into the town on a horse. He was clad in black armour and had a red visor. It was him. The slayer of beasts, Quon. Quon was revered across the land. He had killed dragons, werewolves, vampires... Pretty much any beasts or undead you could think of.\n\nBut I knew something few others did. He could never truly die. How exactly this is the case is unsure. But either time revolves around him or he manipulates it. I knew this because a mercenary in my town once told me her experience with Quon.\n\nIt was a cold winter day. Snow covered most of the town. An avalanche had blocked off the bridge. Quon had been eyeing her sword suspiciously. Eventually he struck at her. She was fatally wounded but struck back. To her amazement he went down in one strike. The sword had never been especially strong but for whatever reason it easily killed Quon. Suddenly Quon disappeared and she was abruptly teleported. The world around her seemed to collapse. She was floating and all around her the landscape descended into chaos.\n\nThe next moment everything was back to normal and she could see Quon walking along a path. She was prepared to draw her sword. He glanced at her and simply continued walking. She went to kill him and the same thing happened. The next time she saw him he ran away from her as fast as he could. He couldn’t die.\n\nWhen I heard this story it amazed me. I had always believed in destiny. This story proved it’s existence. External forces were making sure Quon didn’t stay dead. As for the sword, I suspected that it had some strange ability to specifically kill Quon. I looked at my weapons rack and took it out. It was time.\n\nI sheathed the sword, donned my armour, got a shield and left the house. I was going to fight Quon. I started to make my way towards him. My theory was that the gods reverse time every time he dies. If so, killing Quon was a feat that would get their attention. Gaining even momentary recognition from the gods would be the greatest feat I could ever pull off.\n\nWhen I got to him, I challenged him to a fight to the death. All eyes turned towards us. Gasps could be heard all around us. Quon accepted.\n\nFast forward an hour and we were staring at each other in the arena. I was armed with my sword and shield. He had 2 black swords with strange markings. We were almost ready to begin. The referee was finally ready to begin the countdown. I drew my sword. “3, 2, 1, fight!”\n\nI started on the defence. He charged at me and hit with a flurry of attacks. I blocked most but one cut me on the arm. He then struck with both swords trying to knock me back. I saw an opening and jabbed him in the knee. He dropped to the ground dead.\n\nI experienced what the mercenary had. The world collapsing then time being reversed. I was in the arena again. The referee was counting down again. “3, 2, 1, fight!” Quon fought more defensively this time. As if correcting his previous error. To think he got revered for killing beasts without dying! I could do that if I had constant benefit of hindsight.\n\nI tried to fight a bit more aggressively this time to counter his new strategy. He kept blocking my strikes with his swords. Eventually he got an opening and managed to badly cut my leg. He tried to go for it again. I stabbed him in the chest.\n\nOnce again the fight repeated. He went more defensive. Eventually I managed to slice his left hand off get the killing strike. Next he ran right at me and threw a sword at me. He hurt my shoulder badly and I had to drop my shield but I still managed to get the killing strike.\n\nHistory was repeating itself over and over. He couldn’t beat me. I had truly defeated Quon and time itself. I would never accomplish anything bigger than this.\n\nEventually our fight was cut off. Suddenly I was back in my house. I looked outside and saw snow. The town was covered. An avalanche had blocked the bridge. I looked at my weapons rack. The sword wasn’t there." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: You just finished the latest book by your favorite author. Once you close the book, you realize 20 years have gone by." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It took her twenty years to finish... to finish the book of her favorite author. She was just a young girl when she started; age 5, just a few days old in her reading. When she read the last phrase of the book, \"all knowledge is now yours,\" she was 25.\n\nShe stretched her arms, her bones cracking and giving her an instance of relief. Her hair had grown too long that it scattered on the ground, yet its luster and color remain, bright gold that shone like sunlight. Her small clothes had come undone because of her growth, but she didn't mind, she fancied her long limbs and developed body.\n\nShe closed the book and stood up, admiring everything that she sees. She was at her room, how she missed looking at her room. The stickers of stars her mom placed atop, it brightened her dreams; the big teddy bear her dad won at a carnival, it protected her from nightmares; the messages in the walls... the messages in the walls?\n\nShe approached the message, it read, \"Where are you, Syl?\". It was a message from her mother, she didn't know how she knew it was her mother's message. She turned around and saw another, \"Syl! Come back Syl!\" it was her father's.\n\nOnly then did she realize the time. How long was she gone, she begun to ask. \"20 years,\" her mind whispered. There it is again, the answer in her head. She began panicking, shouting who it was. She put a hand in her mouth, shocked at her strange new voice. \"I'm you,\" said her mind. She felt ill at the thought.\n\nThere was something inside her head, it scared her so much that she tried to stop thinking, clinging on her teddy bear as she fails to do so.\n\n\"There's no need to be afraid,\" the voice said. \"I'm your unconscious, the one who's aware at the passage of time and the things you've learned.\"\n\nShe recognized that voice, it was her voice when she was little. She felt a soothing warmth in the entirety of her body, and she felt calm and safe. It was her unconscious, no, it was her. She calmed herself.\n\n\"Where am I?\" she asked.\n\n\"On another dimension, detached from the world we came from,\" answered the voice. \"We were lured here by the book.\"\n\nShe looked at the book and felt an anger she hadn't felt before. Calm, her unconscious murmured. There was no need to be angry she realized. It was no one's fault, this event merely happened.\n\n\"How do I... how do we come back home?\" she said.\n\n\"The door,\" said her mind.\n\nWhen she was about to open the door, she looked back.\n\n\"Thank you for the story,\" she whispered.\n\nWhen she opened the door, a bright light enveloped her. It didn't scare her, she embraced the unknown with eyes open. When the stream ended, she came back. Her long limbs and long hair gone. She then heard her parent's voices and went to them. With hugs and worries relieved, she went back home, her life awaits." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: The defense attorney lunges, grabbing the superhero's shoulders. \"Don't you understand, you masked moron? Why did I do it? I kept that piece of filth out of prison so you could deal with them, permanently.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Defender sat at the bar and sipped his whiskey. This was his favorite bar, and while he had to keep his mask on for privacy his company was welcomed by all: the bouncer, his job easier, and the bartender, enjoying the tips and tranquility.\n\nHe stared at the television as the news highlight reel played. He was not alone, fellow patrons watched and muttered.\n\n\"A travesty.\"\n\n\"It's bullshit.\"\n\n\"There is no justice.\"\n\nA mobster, guilty as sin and with hands bloodier than a Red Cross donation van, had walked free today. The prosecution was unable to convince the jury despite video evidence and, shockingly, multiple witnesses willing to testify. It was some sort of technical problem with the State's case, the anchor said. The recording switched to a close-up of an impromptu press conference, the defense attorney starting to speak.\n\nThe bartender changed the channel. It displayed a football match instead. The bartender glared at the patron sitting on the stool next to The Defender.\n\n\"Nobody understands.\" The Defender looked at the patron. It was the attorney from the video, nursing the scotch in front of him. \"You don't understand!\" he said, louder, as he met the hero's gaze.\n\nThe attorney stood, clearly bolstered by liquid courage. He grabbed The Defender's shoulders. \"Don't you understand? You fool. I kept that piece of filth out of prison for a reason. So you could deal with him permanently!\"\n\nThe Defender, up to this point bemused by the drunken lawyer, stood up. A cloud passed over the masked visage.\n\nTo his credit, the attorney didn't even flinch as The Defender picked him up by his collar. As easy as lifting a piece of paper, the hero brought the inebriated attorney close to his face.\n\n\"You call me a fool? I am no fool. Sit down, you moron.\"\n\nThe lawyer was placed back on his stool.\n\n\"Listen to me very carefully. I am invincible, fast, and superhuman in ways you would not even comprehend. I could crush every regular human, shrug off every weapon humanity has ever made, and basically do whatever I want. I may as well be a god to you.\"\n\nThe Defender paused before he continued. \"I could enslave all of you by force of will alone and make myself a tyrant.\" He added an emphasis to the last word that brought the room to a standstill. A glass shattered somewhere. The attorney looked afraid for the first time.\n\n\"No, I will not be a tyrant. I will not dispense vengeance in the guise of justice. I will watch, and defend, and help those in need. Criminals and evil people will be handled by human systems of justice.\"\n\nThe lawyer trembled. Shakily he replied. \"I got that asshole off on a technicality. I wanted him dealt with, permanently, by you. I did the best I could and found a hole big enough to drive a truck through. He's free tonight because of me.\"\n\nThe Defender sighed and sat back down. \"Look. The defense attorney has two clients. One is the accused. The other is the rule of law. If your client is guilty, you still have to defend and protect the rule of law. If that means your guilty client goes free, then justice is still served because the prosecution did not meet the heavy burden needed to take away someone's freedom. That is important, even if it feels dirty in the moment.\"\n\nThe hero took a sip of his whiskey and continued. \"If we let the prosecution slip for the obviously guilty, eventually less scrupulous and diligent prosecutors will come along. Eventually the not-guilty will be found guilty and suffer without reason.\n\n\"The scum went free today, yes. But the State will be more diligent in the future, and the innocent are better protected for it. An unjust State is worse than any criminal could ever be.\"\n\nThe lawyer stifled a sob. \"He's going to hurt someone else, I know it. I can't live with that.\"\n\n\"You can, and you must. You must keep up your work, because it is good work and important. I promise that I will keep an eye on this prick, and if-no, when-he slips up again, I will be there to wrap him up and deliver him to the system for punishment.\"\n\nA moment passed. The room seemed to move again, deliberately, as if all patrons were considering The Defender's words.\n\n\"Hey Tim,\" The Defender called to the bartender. \"Another round for my friend here. He did a dirty but important job today, and needs some cheering up.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You are part of a team sent to investigate a new disease. This disease is sweeping the globe, but it's being very particular in who it's killing off." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "My suit chaffed at my skin. A huge, bulking frame of plastic and canvas, with microphones and two-way visors and all sorts. This was only the third time in my life that I had ever worn any kind of hazmat. The worst thing was the knowledge that wearing it was futile. I was sweating profusely and struggling to move and it was all completely futile.\n\nThere was no way I was getting the disease.\n\n'The Rot', as the media has been calling it. Or at least, it was, before every news station and magazine in the country started slowing down their output. And then shutting down completely. It's hard to get motivated to work when all your bosses are dying. The Rot can strike at any time - symptoms can come fast or slow. It starts with a strange tightening in the chest. Breathing becomes laboured, short and raspy. Next is the muscle burn. Searing pain that rips and shreds through every part of the body, making it virtually impossible to move. Third comes horrible skin lesions, peppering every inch of the body with boils which can become the size of grapefruits. Finally, death is a sweet release.\n\nMe and the two other guys on my team had the unenviable task of heading into Parliament. One of the epicentres of the Rot in the UK. Pretty much the whole of Westminster has become a ghost town, and as we approached through the underground tunnels and up through Westminster station, I couldn't help but admire the shoes on a few of the bodies that were littered around the concourse.\n\nAs we approached the Parliament, we saw a figure sprawled on the lengthening grass, dressed head to toe in the garbs of a mayor. The lesions had turned his skin the same shade of red as his cloak.\n\nWe continued to shuffle along as best we could in our ridiculous suits, and as we reached the Lords' chamber, where hereditary peers recently sat and passed laws, we began daubing at some of the finely dressed bodies with our swabs, bagging them carefully afterwards.\n\nOnce we had finished, the plan was to move out to the commons chamber, where there were far fewer victims. But the suit was really getting to me, and I felt like we all needed a break. I whipped off my helmet and chucked it aside. Walking up to the speaker's chair I took a seat and lifted a pack of Malboros gingerly from my pocket.\n\n\"What the hell are you doing?\" Said Mason, flipping his mic on.\n\nI took in a deep breath.\n\n\"The helmet was killing me.\"\n\nMason glared at me. He was short, no more than 5'3. His glasses only served to make his beady eyes look a little bigger, but I think his eyesight is just as good as mine.\n\n\"Well, what if the Rot kills you?\" Mason cocked his head to one side like a bloody terrier.\n\n\"Are you joking, mate? I have approximately 400 pounds in savings and I've been renting since I was 18. No way it's getting me.\"\n\n\"What do you think the cut off is?\" Arnand chimed in. He's a youngish chap from Bangladesh who's English is probably better than mine.\n\n\"It's around a mill in the bank. That's what I heard online anyway.\" I replied, taking a long drag on my newly lit cigarette.\n\n\"I hope it's not a million rupees. I should call my parents.\" Arnand said, with a laugh in his voice. It was pretty much all we had, now - laughing. So we tried to do it as often as possible.\n\n\"Well the client's not gonna be very happy about this, is he?\" Peeped Mason, following it up with a squirrel-like squeak.\n\n\"You're worried about some rich Chinese bastard? He's only worried about himself, trust me. I don't even know why I'm working, God knows I don't want any money.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: Looking down the conveyor belt it seems like a normal grocery cart: bananas, potatoes, Cheerios, bread, milk, spaghetti, oil, rubbing alcohol, and string. As you go to place the bag into the cart, the man turns to you \"keep it, you'll need those in 10 minutes\"." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Harold Kerrigan was an ordinary man in every possible way.\n\nHe had an ordinary job working at a grocery store, which was his post-retirement reward for all of his efforts as a mid-level manager at a certain energy firm.\n\nSo when a tall, thin man paid for his 10 items and handed Harold the bag, he wasn't quite sure what to do with it. He just stood there as the man extended the bag, repeating the same line to make sure Harold had understood.\n\n\"You'll need those in ten minutes,\" the tall man said. He looked at his watch. \"Make it nine minutes. And you're with them, when they ask. That's what the banana's are for.\"\n\n\"But... I'm...\" Harold started. The thin man cut him off.\n\n\"I know. Just say you're with them. I've gotta go.\"\n\nHarold's wrinkled fingers wrapped around the plastic bag as the tall thin man walked out the front door. Harold's eyes just followed him with such curiosity that it drove his legs to move. He nearly ran into Ben as his feet shuffled towards the door.\n\n\"Harold, you're break isn't for another hour,\" Ben said, his imposing figure towering over Harold. Ben was an amateur body builder who owned a Porsche and lauded his supreme authority over Harold every chance he got. Harold practically bounced off Ben and fell backwards.\n\n\"Back to your post, old man,\" Ben said. \"You do remember where your post is? Ten feet behind you? At the aisle with the red blinking light and the line out the door?\"\n\nHarold grunted, trying to reach around Ben with his gaze to catch a glimpse of the mystery shopper, but it was no use. He looked back up at Ben. \"Piece of work,\" he said, his mouth curling into a snarl. \"I've killed bigger men than you for less.\" And it was true. He had. But that was forty years ago.\n\n\"Is that a threat Harold?\" Ben said with a smile, folding his arms. Ben chuckled. \"It's like being threatened by a kitten.\"\n\nAnd that's when it happened.\n\nEverything in the grocery store went dark, every light turning off. Harold pulled out his cell phone. Also dead. The sunlight from the glass windows poured inside, but beyond that everything was dark. Everything went silent.\n\nAnd it wasn't some kind of electromagnetic pulse either. There were no sparks, no cascading domino effect of lights turning off. It was just as if all at once the power across the whole store was sucked dry. No more low hum of refrigeration units. No buzz from fluorescent lights. Just silence as everyone waited for something to happen.\n\nWhispers broke out as people started herding towards the doors. Ben used his strong arms to rip them open with the emergency lever. Once outside, the city showed no sign of life. No artificial light. No noise. Just nothing.\n\nA woman got in her car and tried to start it. Nothing. No power. No click in her engine. She started to panic, getting out of her car and looked out across the street. Other cars too just stopped working, slowing to a halt and bumping into one another.\n\nAnd that's when Harold started to hear the screams, far off in the distance. You could feel the air move, like some kind of massive inhale. The thick green cloud flew at hundreds of miles an hour, leaping and toppling over itself like horses in a race, as if it was sentient. People started to scream as they noticed it. But before anyone could move, the cloud enveloped them, forcing it's way into their lungs. A few of them, the few like Harold who were smart enough to do something, held their breath, eyes wide open as the cloud of green flew around them, swirling and dancing. And then the cloud flew off, heading further into the city.\n\nBen was on the floor coughing up blood. Harold thought it was some kind of gas. Something he'd seen during the war. But it wasn't. Ben gagged, coughing up green smoke that would leave and enter back into his throat, until he got ahold of his body. He rose, eyes bloodshot and full of danger, smile peeling across his face. He looked at a mother holding her daughter's mouth.\n\n\"Are you with us?\" He asked. The mother looked up, bloodshot eyes and nodded. She released her hand from her daughters face and a puff of green smoke came out of the mothers mouth, snaking its way into the daughter. She toppled over too, coughing up blood, until she rose renewed with bloodshot eyes.\n\nThis had happened for a few others in the crowd as well. Only one man said no, and a gunshot rang out that made Harold recoil. He looked at Ben who had turned with the rest of the crowd to face him.\n\n\"I'll take care of Harold. The rest of you can go. Find anyone who isn't with us. Make them join or kill them,\" Ben said confidently. His eyes returned to me. \"So, Harold? What do you say? Are you with us?\"\n\nMy hand gripped the bag tighter. I didn't know what to say. Until I remembered what I had in that plastic bag.\n\n\"Yeah,\" He nodded. \"I'm with you.\" Harold reached into his bag and grabbed a banana.\n\nBen smiled, then opened his mouth as a green trail snaked out. It entered Harold and he started coughing. Harold convulsed, falling to his hands and knees on the floor, trying to fight whatever was attempting to take control of him. He could feel it, coursing through his veins. Ben chuckled, tapped Harold on the back and started walking away. \"You'll be alright buddy. See you soon.\"\n\nHarold fought harder to regain control, his vision blurring as he watched Ben walking down the street. Harold pulled out the banana, biting off the top and shoved the banana in his mouth. He swallowed half of it whole. Maybe too much. Panic swept over him as he felt his body waging two wars at once. One war against this green gas substance, and another against the banana. He rolled over, fumbling for his pocket as his throat closed up more and more. The green gas was panicking too. He could feel it, feel his body creeping too close to death, the fear in his brain growing. He dug out the cylinder from his pocket and held it to his chest as his heart pumped faster, lungs fought harder, throat closed almost completely.\n\nHe saw it, the green gas, trickling out of his nostrils as if making sure it was truly over. He pushed hard, exhaling what little air he had left, forcing the green gas out of his nose. It rose up into the sky, abandoning him, and he shoved the Epinephrine needle into his leg.\n\nA moment later, he was able to force one wheezing breath into his lungs, and then another, and another. And he remembered the tall skinny man in the grocery store.\n\n\"But... I'm...\" Harold wanted to say he was allergic to bananas.\n\n\"I know. Just say you're with them,\" the man had said." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: \"We are running out of time. Please limit your use of time to 45 minutes a day. Thank you.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The message had appeared on the screen as soon as he had turned it on to sign in. Letting out a long sigh Kaleb reluctantly opened the door and stepped inside. He had really been hoping for more time today. The walls of the room were white and the flooring was made of dark tiles. It was clean and sanitary with workers in white coats ushering different people to their awaiting Capsules.\n\nKaleb began feeling a hint of anxiety as he walked up to the front desk.\n\nThe woman in white looked up from her screen and gave him a look of annoyance.\n\n“Yes?” she asked, disdain clear in her voice.\n\n“Why has the time been cut by fifteen minutes? I was given an hour of time yesterday.”\n\n“Let me see your Capsule ID card and I’ll have a look.”\n\nSwallowing Kaleb pulled out his Capsule ID from his pocket and handed it to her. It only took the woman a few seconds to scan it and he found himself sweating and shaking the entire time. The Capsule Center building was unnerving and he felt very out of place.\n\n“It says here you’re on our scholastic program.” she said with confidence.\n\n“What exactly does that mean?” he asked.\n\n“Wha… Ugh It means that your time is very limited. You’re not the only person using the capsules. You get free time from the government because you’re a student, but other people pay for it and they pay a pretty penny. You’re more than welcome to pay for more time, but if you remain on the scholastic program the government has every right to limit your time as much as they feel is necessary.”\n\n“How much does more time cost?”\n\nThe woman looked him up and down and a smile crept across her face. “More than you could afford.”\n\nFeeling anger rise up in his body he promptly took his Capsule ID back from the woman and went to sit down in one of the chairs. He’d have to wait his turn.\n\n“Enjoy your 45 minutes!” she exclaimed as soon as he had sat down. Capsule workers tended to be like that. They catered to the rich and had great disdain for the less fortunate.\n\nThe world Kaleb lived in… the real world, was a dystopia. The streets were littered with garbage and 92% of the population lived in poverty and starved on a daily basis. The Capsules were the only source of escape. Simulations that placed you in a new world and allowed you to spend that time doing things you loved and enjoying smells that were pleasant instead of the constant smell of garbage and human waste. Kaleb had been limited to 45 minutes a day. Being a student that was all he was allowed and the government could change that at any time.\n\nSoon after, Kaleb was ushered to his awaiting Capsule and his 45 minutes in the simulation seemed to go by faster than the time he had spent in the waiting room. He had gone to the park and sat in grass that was actually green and saw trees that actually showed life. The only trees he’d ever seen were those in the simulation. They didn’t really exist in the world he lived in. While taking in the scenery his wrist began buzzing and looking down a message appeared before him stating “You’re time has completed. You will be removed from the Capsule in 10 seconds. Thank you.”\n\nDays passed and Kaleb went to the Capsule every day. His limit was still 45 minutes but it would never go back up. All the fluctuation that would ever occur would be downward. the government had been working on limiting student time for years. The Capsules were a service usually only allotted to 3% of the population. The rich practically lived inside of them. Once Kaleb finished school he would not be allowed to go back to the Capsules unless he paid a hefty price for it. It cost about 8 credits per minute to the average person… that was as much he made a month.\n\nA few weeks later Kaleb walked up to the door as he always had and signed in to enter the building. This time a message appeared once more. “We are running out of time. Please limit your use of time to 15 minutes a day. Thank you.”\n\nHe wanted to burst into tears. He knew this day would come but he didn’t think it would be so fast. The government was known for limiting such things. Kaleb would never make enough to be able to afford any time in the capsule after he graduated and if he could it would be very limited time and only on special occasions. He turned around from the screen to look at the world he lived in. It was disgusting, dark, and dangerous. He would never be able to experience life like the 3% but he could experience 15 minutes of it today.\n\nKaleb reluctantly opened the door and stepped into the Capsule Center knowing that his time was short and he had to enjoy every second of it as if it were his last." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 700-800 words. Prompt: MC strives to live a \"karma-neutral\" life, neither causing harm nor good or accepting gifts of fate and coincidence. For years the Universe has been trying to pay MC back for a minor act of kindness, but MC continually rejects the good fortune meant to restore balance in the world." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "”I have lived my life and I’ve seen the hurt I’ve caused along the way,” MC told himself as he strode through the small clearing in a wood not far from the city. “And yet I have been given the rewards of a virtuous life. Why? Perhaps for virtue that I never realized I had, for good deeds that I had no awareness of. But I remember the little things I’ve done to hurt others, or at least inconvenience them to the point of provoking them to anger.”\n\nIt was a nice day to walk in the woods, but MC wasn’t there to take a leisurely nature walk. He was scouting the area for what would soon be his permanent residence away from all of civilization, but not too far away, as he would need to make a visit now and again, in the event that he was low on food and other supplies. “At least until I learn to hunt and be self sufficient out here in the wilderness,” he said.\n\n“No more will I disturb the delicate balance of the cosmos with my own contributions of good deeds and bad deeds. I refuse to partake in the giving and taking, the back and forth, the ebb and flow, the endless intercourse to move karma in this direction and that.” His understanding of mystical concepts like karma were limited to popular notions he managed to absorb from popular media, but it was enough to suit his purpose.\n\n“Just leave me alone, and I’ll leave you alone,” MC told the universe.\n\nHe found a tree whose large, gnarly roots at the base would provide a place to sit. He sat down under the tree. “This is the only way,” MC told himself, “to live as a hermit in these woods.”\n\nJust then, he spotted a twenty-dollar bill among the leaves. “Nice try,” MC said. Leaving the money there, he went back to his state of silent contemplation, which would slide gradually into deep meditation.\n\nMC would experience a stillness that he never felt while in the setting of modern urban living, with its streets and walls and notifications on his phone. He remained in this state for a good measure of time.\n\nWhen he emerged from this state, it was dark. He had not realized how close to evening it was getting. “I wonder if I can lie down somewhere and get some sleep,” MC said. “The weather’s fine. I’ll have to procure shelter somehow, but I can sleep out in the open for one night. Maybe then I’ll get a better idea of whether I can swing it out here.” The tree gave him a place to lean against, and he was quite comfortable where he sat. “Maybe if I lean against the tree like this,” he said, shifting and adjusting to ensure against falling over, “I just might be able to get comfortable enough to fall asleep, if only for a little while. I don’t require a full, uninterrupted slumber, not under these circumstances.”\n\nMC closed his eyes. He would drift in and out of sleep for the entire night. Finally he opened his eyes in time to witness the dawn emerging from the east. “I did it,” MC said. “At least for the short time I was here, I kept myself out of the affairs of the world. I incurred no penalties, and I accepted no rewards. If I can keep this up for the rest of my life, I think I’ll have done all right.”\n\nMC would have to get up and walk a few steps before noticing the mugger holding the gun low but in front to make sure MC saw it. “Give me the money,” the mugger said.\n\nMC froze in terror. “I don’t have any money, I swear,” MC said.\n\n“Drop your wallet on the ground.”\n\n“I don’t have a wallet. I don’t have anything but the clothes on my back. Please, I didn’t bring anything with me out here.”\n\nThe mugger raised the gun and pointed it at MC. “Give me the money,” he said. And out of a desperate desire to get himself out of this situation, without thinking, MC lunged for the gun. He couldn’t get to it in time. The mugger fled, leaving MC on the ground in a growing pool of blood." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: A vampire hunter goes up against a vampire sire. The vampire is ready to kill the hunter, but pauses and asks how old they are. At hearing their age, the vampire stops fighting. They’re just a baby! They can’t kill a baby!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This was not how seventeen-year-old novice vampire hunter Lorelei Reeves had planned for her revenge to go. It was going to be a fairly simple matter, really. She’d already blackmailed the mayor, casted a silver 6.5 Creedmoor bullet, and picked the perfect vantage point from which to blow the bloodsucking bastard’s brains right out of his skull. She’d waited for hours, feeling the anticipation and adrenaline ramp up as it drew closer and closer to 9:05 PM. The time when “John Garrett,” a vampire who’s real name she never bothered to inquire, would leave his downtown city apartment building and go about his business of draining innocent people of their lives. But now that she had a gun to the back of her head, her plan wasn’t looking too hot. The vampires voice was calm and cold, but held no noticeable malice. “Take your hands off the rifle, stand up slowly, and keep your hands above your head,” said the creature. With no other option but death, she did as ordered.\n\nEverything she thought she knew about vampires was broken in the instant that she turned to face a very boyish looking vampire. She knew she was one to talk when it came to the age at which one should get themselves way in over their heads in the secret world of American monster hunting, but she had a chip on her shoulder. Since the days of the days of the Wild West, her bloodline was cursed to be hunted by the mythical terrors most thought only to be tales. She knew them as murderers of many she had held dear. Gaunt, pale, sadistic. Those were the monsters who killed those around her. But this one looked nothing at all like them.\n\nHe stood at roughly 5’8”, two inches shorter than Lorelei, and not much clung to his skinny frame. A diet consisting of blood does not lend well to muscle growth. His white skin hadn’t gone completely pale yet. His messy chestnut hair flowed out of the back of a blue baseball cap to about halfway down the back of his neck. His intense blue-eyed gaze held her in place. Well, that and the loaded revolver pointed right at her. It looked like a reproduction model of a colt single action army. Odd choice, but it was still a loaded deadly firearm. About five seconds passed in which they just stared at each other awkwardly.\n\nHenry had killed vampire hunters before, sure. No different from lawmen, really. Both vicious killers parading their bloodlust as justice and protection of the innocent, but only those deemed innocent by their benefactors. They’d betray you the second it benefitted them with no regard for any true justice. He’d killed lawmen before his tragic death, and he killed hunters after he came back. Just two sides of the same coin. But this… girl… was clearly different. Hell, she couldn’t have been more than twenty at most.\n\nTo start, she wasn’t a white man like all the other hunters he’d run into. She must not be affiliated with any “exclusive hunting club” he knew of. A black girl, sporting long ponytail of black dreadlocked hair went down to her tailbone. Hazel eyes of pure hate and malice. He knew that look all too well. He’d held it himself long ago. She had been wronged, but Henry couldn’t tell why that hate was directed at him. Had he killed someone close to her? Maybe, but if she was a hunter’s kid, then she would have had a better plan than this. It just didn’t add up. He decided to finally break the awkward silence that had settled over the cold rooftop.\n\n“How old are you?” His question portrayed more curiosity than he’d wished to reveal, but it that bit of curiosity let Lorelei know that she might just have a chance of living. “I’m seventeen.” He holstered his revolver immediately and hung his head frustratedly.\n\n“Well, you’re clearly not ill, so you’ve been wronged by either me or someone like me. That right?” She nodded apprehensively before speaking up, confidence shaking with along with the foundations of the hate she’d built all her life. “Nearly everyone I know… and they’re coming for me too.” She was one of the cursed. That meant there were likely vampires stalking them right now. Killing a renegade and a hunter in one fell swoop would be one hell of a payday.\n\nHenry knew he shouldn’t, but it’s what Tunstall would have done. Tunstall gave him a second chance, a way to fight back and make something of himself. If he left her here, he’d betray everything they’d both died for. He felt eyes on the back of his neck. He didn’t have to ask, he knew it was one of them.\n\n“Kid, get your gun up. You’re killing yourself a vampire tonight.”\n\n(Edit: I am considering making a follow up, diving more into the history of the names that are at play. Thank you all for taking the time to read this story.)" } ]