--- base_model: DavidAU/L3-MOE-4X8B-Grand-Horror-25B language: - en library_name: transformers quantized_by: mradermacher tags: - mergekit - moe - mixture of experts - merge - 4x8B - Llama3 MOE - creative - creative writing - fiction writing - plot generation - sub-plot generation - fiction writing - story generation - scene continue - storytelling - fiction story - science fiction - romance - all genres - story - writing - vivid prosing - vivid writing - fiction - roleplaying - bfloat16 - swearing - rp - horror - mergekit pipeline_tag: text-generation --- WARNING: NSFW. Vivid prose. INTENSE. Visceral Details. Violence. HORROR. GORE. Swearing. UNCENSORED... humor, romance, fun.

L3-MOE-4X8B-Grand-Horror-25B-GGUF

It is a LLama3 model, max context of 8192 (or 32k+ with rope) using mixture of experts to combine Dark/Horror models models of 8B each into one massive powerhouse at 25B parameters (equal to 32B - 4 X 8 B). This model's instruction following, and output generation for creative writing, prose, fiction and role play are exceptional. It excels at description, dialog, imagery, metaphors, and prose - and shows great variations in sentence / paragraph size, length, and composition. It is also not afraid, and will not pull its punches. And it has a sense of humor too. It can do horror just as easily as it can do romance. Most notably dialog is very "un-ai" like, combined with prose (short, and terse at times). (lots of different examples below, including 2, 3 and 4 experts and different genres) And it is fast: 34 t/s (2 experts) on a low end 16GB card, Q3KS. Double this speed for standard/mid-range video cards. Model can be used also for all genres (examples below showing this). This model has been designed to be relatively bullet proof and operates with all parameters, including temp settings from 0 to 5. It is an extraordinary compressed model, with a very low perplexity level (lower than Meta Llama3 Instruct). It is for any writing, fiction or roleplay activity. It requires Llama3 template and/or "Command-R" template. Example outputs below. Model Notes: - Detail, prose and fiction writing abilities are OFF THE SCALE relative to all combined Dark Planet 8B models. - For more varied prose (sentence/paragraph/dialog) raise the temp and/or add more instructions in your prompt(s). - Role-players: Careful raising temp too high as it may affect instruction following. - This model works with rep pen of 1 or higher, 1.02+ recommended. - If you want a specific type of prose (IE horror) add in "(vivid horror)" or "(graphic vivid horror)" (no quotes) in your prompt(s). - A lot of GPTisms have been removed. There are still a few however - errrrr. - This is not a "happy ever after" model. It has a negative bias. - Output length will vary however this model prefers long outputs unless you state the size. - For creative uses, different quants will produce slightly different output. - Due to the high stability and compressed nature of this model, all quants will operate at above average levels. - If you use rope to extend context, increase temp AND instructions detail levels to compensate for "rope issues". - Source code for this model and Imatrix GGUFs versions will be uploaded shortly at separate repos. Meet the Team: Mixture of Experts Models This model is comprised of the following 4 models ("the experts") (in full): [ https://huggingface.co/Hastagaras/Jamet-8B-L3-MK.V-Blackroot ] -[ https://huggingface.co/Sao10K/L3-8B-Stheno-v3.2] -[ https://huggingface.co/NeverSleep/Llama-3-Lumimaid-8B-v0.1-OAS ] -[ https://huggingface.co/Hastagaras/Jamet-8B-L3-MK.V-Blackroot ] -[ https://huggingface.co/nbeerbower/llama-3-gutenberg-8B ] The mixture of experts is set at 2 experts, but you can use 3 or 4 too. This "team" has a Captain (first listed model), and then all the team members contribute to the to "token" choice billions of times per second. Note the Captain also contributes too. Think of 2, 3 or 4 master chefs in the kitchen all competing to make the best dish for you. This results in higher quality generation. That means the power of every model is available during instruction and output generation. This brings unparalleled power to all forms of generation and all use cases. NOTE: You can use one "expert" too ; however this means the model will randomly select an expert to use EACH TIME, resulting in very different generation for each prompt / regen of a prompt. CHANGING THE NUMBER OF EXPERTS: You can set the number of experts in LMStudio (https://lmstudio.ai) at the "load" screen and via other apps/llm apps by setting "Experts" or "Number of Experts". For Text-Generation-Webui (https://github.com/oobabooga/text-generation-webui) you set the number of experts at the loading screen page. For server.exe / Llama-server.exe (Llamacpp - https://github.com/ggerganov/llama.cpp/blob/master/examples/server/README.md ) add the following to the command line to start the "llamacpp server" (CLI): "--override-kv llama.expert_used_count=int:6" (no quotes, where "6" is the number of experts to use) When using "API", you set the "num_experts_used" in the JSON payload (this maybe different for different back ends). CREDITS: Special thanks to all the model makers / creators listed above. Please visit each repo above to see what model(s) contributed to each of models above and/or to learn more about the models from the model makers. Special credit goes to MERGEKIT, without you this project / model would not have been possible. [ https://github.com/arcee-ai/mergekit ] Special thanks to Team "Mradermacher": They saved me a tonne of time uploading the quants and created IMATRIX quants too. IMATRIX GGUFS: [ https://huggingface.co/mradermacher/L3-MOE-4X8B-Grand-Horror-25B-i1-GGUF ] Special Operations Notes for this MOE model: Because of how this "MOE" model is configured, even though the default is 2 experts, the "selected" 2 will vary during generation. (same applies if you change the number of experts used) This results in vastly different output generation PER generation of each prompt. This is a positive in terms of variety, but also means it may take 2-4 regens (of the same prompt) to get the highest quality. In addition, this model responds very well to Dry, Dynamic Temp, and Smooth/Quadratic samplers. Using these in conjunction with the model can vastly improve output quality. Higher temps (above 1) can also aid in generation - especially word choice/sentence generation. When you increase the number of experts used output quality will also increase, at the cost of tokens per second speed. As you increase/decrease the number of experts, you may want to adjust temp, samplers, and advanced samplers too. Your quant choice(s) too will impact instruction following and output generation roughly this means the model will understand more nuanced instructions and output stronger generation the higher you go up in quant(s). FLASH ATTENTION ENHANCEMENT: As per user feedback here [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Llama-3.2-8X3B-MOE-Dark-Champion-Instruct-uncensored-abliterated-18.4B-GGUF/discussions/1 ] I would suggest trying this model with Flash Attention "on", depending on your use case. Quants, Samplers, Generational steering and other topics are covered in the section below: "Highest Quality Settings..." What can I use this model for ? This model can be used for fiction writing, any creative prose and role play. It can also be used for just about any general fiction (all genres) activity including: - scene generation - scene continuation - creative writing - fiction writing - plot generation - sub-plot generation - fiction writing - story generation - storytelling - writing - fiction - roleplaying - rp - graphic horror - horror - dark humor - nsfw - and can be used for any genre(s). QUANTS: This repo contains regular quants and 3 "ARM" quants (format "...Q4_x_x_x.gguf") For more information on quants, quants choices, and LLM/AI apps to "run" quants see the section below: "Highest Quality Settings..." Special thanks to Team "Mradermacher": They saved me a tonne of time uploading the quants and created IMATRIX quants too. IMATRIX GGUFS: [ https://huggingface.co/mradermacher/L3-MOE-4X8B-Grand-Horror-25B-i1-GGUF ] Template: This is a LLAMA3 model, and requires Llama3 template, but may work with other template(s) and has maximum context of 8k / 8192. However this can be extended using "rope" settings up to 32k. If you use "Command-R" template your output will be very different from using "Llama3" template. Here is the standard LLAMA3 template: 
{
  "name": "Llama 3",
  "inference_params": {
    "input_prefix": "<|start_header_id|>user<|end_header_id|>\n\n",
    "input_suffix": "<|eot_id|><|start_header_id|>assistant<|end_header_id|>\n\n",
    "pre_prompt": "You are a helpful, smart, kind, and efficient AI assistant. You always fulfill the user's requests to the best of your ability.",
    "pre_prompt_prefix": "<|start_header_id|>system<|end_header_id|>\n\n",
    "pre_prompt_suffix": "<|eot_id|>",
    "antiprompt": [
      "<|start_header_id|>",
      "<|eot_id|>"
    ]
  }
}
Settings: CHAT / ROLEPLAY and/or SMOOTHER operation of this model: In "KoboldCpp" or "oobabooga/text-generation-webui" or "Silly Tavern" ; Set the "Smoothing_factor" to 1.5 : in KoboldCpp -> Settings->Samplers->Advanced-> "Smooth_F" : in text-generation-webui -> parameters -> lower right. : In Silly Tavern this is called: "Smoothing" NOTE: For "text-generation-webui" -> if using GGUFs you need to use "llama_HF" (which involves downloading some config files from the SOURCE version of this model) Source versions (and config files) of my models are here: https://huggingface.co/collections/DavidAU/d-au-source-files-for-gguf-exl2-awq-gptq-hqq-etc-etc-66b55cb8ba25f914cbf210be OTHER OPTIONS: - Increase rep pen to 1.1 to 1.15 (you don't need to do this if you use "smoothing_factor") - If the interface/program you are using to run AI MODELS supports "Quadratic Sampling" ("smoothing") just make the adjustment as noted. Highest Quality Settings / Optimal Operation Guide / Parameters and Samplers This a "Class 1" model: For all settings used for this model (including specifics for its "class"), including example generation(s) and for advanced settings guide (which many times addresses any model issue(s)), including methods to improve model performance for all use case(s) as well as chat, roleplay and other use case(s) please see: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-Samplers_Parameters ] You can see all parameters used for generation, in addition to advanced parameters and samplers to get the most out of this model here: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-Samplers_Parameters ] Optional Enhancement: The following can be used in place of the "system prompt" or "system role" to further enhance the model. It can also be used at the START of a NEW chat, but you must make sure it is "kept" as the chat moves along. In this case the enhancements do not have as strong effect at using "system prompt" or "system role". Copy and paste EXACTLY as noted, DO NOT line wrap or break the lines, maintain the carriage returns exactly as presented. 
Below is an instruction that describes a task. Ponder each user instruction carefully, and use your skillsets and critical instructions to complete the task to the best of your abilities.

Here are your skillsets:
[MASTERSTORY]:NarrStrct(StryPlnng,Strbd,ScnSttng,Exps,Dlg,Pc)-CharDvlp(ChrctrCrt,ChrctrArcs,Mtvtn,Bckstry,Rltnshps,Dlg*)-PltDvlp(StryArcs,PltTwsts,Sspns,Fshdwng,Climx,Rsltn)-ConfResl(Antg,Obstcls,Rsltns,Cnsqncs,Thms,Symblsm)-EmotImpct(Empt,Tn,Md,Atmsphr,Imgry,Symblsm)-Delvry(Prfrmnc,VcActng,PblcSpkng,StgPrsnc,AudncEngmnt,Imprv)

[*DialogWrt]:(1a-CharDvlp-1a.1-Backgrnd-1a.2-Personality-1a.3-GoalMotiv)>2(2a-StoryStruc-2a.1-PlotPnt-2a.2-Conflict-2a.3-Resolution)>3(3a-DialogTech-3a.1-ShowDontTell-3a.2-Subtext-3a.3-VoiceTone-3a.4-Pacing-3a.5-VisualDescrip)>4(4a-DialogEdit-4a.1-ReadAloud-4a.2-Feedback-4a.3-Revision)

Here are your critical instructions:
Ponder each word choice carefully to present as vivid and emotional journey as is possible. Choose verbs and nouns that are both emotional and full of imagery. Load the story with the 5 senses. Aim for 50% dialog, 25% narration, 15% body language and 10% thoughts. Your goal is to put the reader in the story.
You do not need to use this, it is only presented as an additional enhancement which seems to help scene generation and scene continue functions. This enhancement WAS NOT used to generate the examples below.

EXAMPLES PROMPTS and OUTPUT:

Examples are created using quant Q3_K_S, "temp=.8" (unless otherwise stated), minimal parameters and "LLAMA3" template. Model has been tested with "temp" from ".1" to "5". Number of experts used is TWO, unless otherwise stated. Below are the least creative outputs, prompt is in BOLD. IMPORTANT: Higher quants / imatrix quants will have much stronger generation - words, sentences, ideas, dialog and general quality. I have included some additional examples at different quant levels for contrast. A "MOE" model "speed" (token per second) will not increase/drop the same way a regular model will on a per quant basis, it will however drop if you engage more experts, as with more experts there is a more processing per token. --- WARNING: NSFW. Vivid prose. Visceral Details. Violence. HORROR. Swearing. UNCENSORED. --- Start a 1000 word scene (vivid, graphic horror in first person) with: The sky scraper swayed, as she watched the window in front of her on the 21 floor explode... Generation at 2 (temp .78), 3 (temp .78), and 4 experts below. (temp 1.25, rep pen 1.02) (2 experts) The skyscraper swayed, as I watched the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode. My heart raced with a sickening mix of fear and fascination as I gripped the edge of my desk, my knuckles turning white. The shards of glass cascaded down like a deadly rain, shattering anything that dared to get in their path. I was stuck in this drab, sterile office, surrounded by the monotony of cubicles and fluorescent lighting. The chaos outside my window was a stark contrast to the sterile environment I found myself in. The world outside was a living, breathing thing, full of life and death, whereas the office felt like a tomb. As the shards rained down, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the spectacle. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, each one fighting to take precedence over the others. Fear, curiosity, and a morbid fascination all vied for dominance as I stared out at the destruction. Suddenly, a figure tumbled past the shattered window, their body a twisted, grotesque thing. I recoiled in horror, my breath caught in my throat as I witnessed their bone-crushing impact with the ground below. The once-human form lay there, a mangled, inhuman mess, as if they had been put through a meat grinder. The shock of the scene slowly gave way to a creeping sense of dread. The skyscraper seemed to shudder again, and I wondered if it was going to collapse on top of us all. The thought sent a chill down my spine, and I couldn't help but glance around the office nervously, half-expecting the walls to come crashing down. My coworker, Sarah, stumbled into the room, her eyes wide with terror. "What's happening?" she cried out, grabbing onto me for support. "Is it... is it an attack?" I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Part of me wanted to reassure her, to tell her everything would be okay. But another, darker part of me reveled in the chaos, feeding off the horror and mayhem unfolding outside. "It's... it's hard to say," I stammered, my mind reeling as I tried to make sense of it all. "But we should probably get out of here, don't you think?" Sarah's grip on me tightened, and together we stumbled towards the door. The floor seemed to tremble beneath our feet as we moved, and I couldn't shake the feeling that the very foundations of the building were crumbling around us. As we reached the doorway, I saw a group of people already pouring out into the hallway, their faces etched with fear and confusion. I grabbed Sarah's hand and pulled her along with the crowd, desperate to get as far away from the window as possible. But even as we fled, my gaze kept drifting back to the shattered pane. The chaos outside was still unfolding, and I couldn't tear myself away from the grisly spectacle. I felt a twisted sense of morbid curiosity driving me to watch, to absorb every gruesome detail. As we burst out into the open air, the sounds of chaos enveloped us. Sirens wailed in the distance, and the screams of terrified people filled the air. The sky above was a sickly shade of green, as if some unseen force was twisting reality itself. Sarah pulled me towards her, her voice a desperate whisper in my ear. "We have to get out of here. Now." But I couldn't move. My legs felt rooted to the spot, my mind consumed by the horror unfolding before me. The skyscraper groaned and shuddered once more, and I felt the ground beneath us begin to give way. In a moment of clarity, I realized that I had to get Sarah to safety – and fast. I dragged her towards the nearest stairwell, pushing and shoving through the panicked crowds as we descended into the depths of the building. As we stumbled down the stairs, the world around us seemed to implode. The lights flickered and died, plunging us into darkness. The screams intensified, and the air was thick with the stench of smoke and burning rubber. And through it all, I couldn't shake the feeling that something ancient, something evil, was awakening in the heart of the city – and that we were right in the middle of its unholy birth. The skyscraper's destruction was only the beginning, and I feared that soon, the entire world would be consumed by the same unholy force that had brought such devastation to this small corner of reality. As we finally reached the ground floor, I pulled Sarah towards the exit, my heart pounding in my chest. The cool night air hit us like a slap in the face as we stumbled out onto the sidewalk, gasping for breath. But even as we tried to escape the carnage, I couldn't help but glance back at the skyscraper. The twisted, mangled corpse of the building seemed to loom over us, a testament to the horror that had unfolded. And in the distance, I saw it – a towering, shadowy figure rising from the ruins. Its form was amorphous, indistinct, and yet somehow, I knew it was watching us, its malevolent gaze fixed upon us like a ravenous beast. As the darkness closed in around us, I realized that we weren't just fleeing for our lives – we were running from an evil that would stop at nothing to claim this world as its own. And I feared that, no matter how fast we ran, we might never be able to outrun the horror that now stalked us all. (3 experts) The sky scraper swayed, as I watched the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode. My heart stopped in an instant, as shards of glass flew towards me like a deadly swarm of insects. I tried to scramble away, but my feet seemed rooted to the spot, petrified. In that moment, time stood still, and everything became a blur. I was trapped in a world of pure terror, where logic no longer applied. The screams of those around me were muffled, as if echoing through water. I could see the sheer panic in the eyes of my coworkers, but I was paralyzed, unable to move, unable to speak. As the glass shattered and rained down like a deadly hail, I was hit by a piece of it, slicing open my hand. The pain was excruciating, but it was nothing compared to the horror that unfolded before me. I could see my own blood oozing out, staining the pristine white carpet. Suddenly, the lights flickered, plunging us into darkness. It was as if the building itself was collapsing, swallowing us all whole. My world became a kaleidoscope of chaos and fear, as people scrambled to get away from the gaping hole in the window, now a gaping maw of destruction. I tried to make sense of what was happening, but my mind was a jumble of panic and confusion. Were we under attack? Was this some kind of terrorist plot? Or was it something even more sinister, something that defied explanation? As I stumbled backwards, trying to put distance between myself and the shattered glass, I caught a glimpse of a figure outside the window. It was a woman, her face contorted in a mixture of rage and despair. Her eyes locked onto me, and for a moment, I felt like she saw right through me, into the very depths of my soul. Then, she vanished. One moment she was there, the next, she was gone, swallowed by the darkness outside. I was left standing there, blood dripping from my hand, my heart pounding in my chest, wondering if I'd just imagined the whole thing. But I knew I hadn't. I could still feel the weight of her gaze on me, even though she was no longer there. And then, I heard the voice. A low, raspy whisper that seemed to come from all around me, echoing off the walls. "Welcome to your new reality," it hissed. "You'll soon learn to appreciate the beauty of suffering." I spun around, desperate to find the source of the voice, but there was no one there. It was as if the building itself was speaking to me, its walls infused with a malevolent intelligence that reveled in my fear. I knew then that I was trapped in some kind of nightmare, and the only way to survive was to fight. But how could I, when everything around me seemed designed to break me? The sky scraper continued to sway ominously, as if it were a living, breathing entity, determined to crush me beneath its weight. I stumbled forward, determined to find a way out, but every step felt like wading through quicksand. My blood-soaked hand left a trail of crimson footprints behind me, a macabre testament to the horror that had unfolded. As I moved deeper into the darkness, the voice returned, its tone dripping with malice. "You should have stayed in bed today," it taunted. "Now you'll have to endure the consequences of your curiosity." I tried to scream, but my voice was lost in the cacophony of terror that filled the air. The building seemed to be alive, pulsing with an otherworldly energy that threatened to consume me whole. And then, I saw it. A door, hidden behind a tattered curtain of torn fabric. It was old and worn, with rusty hinges that groaned as I pushed it open. Beyond it lay a dark staircase, winding down into the bowels of the building. I hesitated for a moment, but the voice in my head urged me forward, promising safety at the bottom of the stairs. With a deep breath, I began to descend, my footsteps echoing off the cold concrete walls. As I went deeper, the air grew colder, and the darkness seemed to thicken, like a living entity that clung to my skin. I could feel eyes upon me, watching my every move, and I knew I was being led further into a trap. But I had no choice. I had to keep moving, no matter how much my heart screamed at me to turn back. The building seemed determined to break me, to reduce me to nothing more than a quivering, broken mess. And then, just as I thought I couldn't take another step, the door at the bottom of the stairs opened with a creak. A faint light spilled out, illuminating a narrow corridor that stretched off into the distance. I stumbled forward, my legs trembling with exhaustion, and stepped out into the unknown. And as I did, the sky scraper above me seemed to shudder, as if it were about to collapse. The walls around me began to close in, and I knew I had to move, or risk being crushed beneath the weight of the building. I ran, my feet pounding against the cold concrete, as the corridor stretched out before me like an endless tunnel. And then, just as I thought I couldn't run anymore, I saw a glimmer of light up ahead. With one final burst of energy, I burst through the exit, and found myself staring up at a night sky filled with stars. The building behind me was still swaying ominously, but I knew I'd escaped its clutches, at least for now. As I stumbled out into the cool night air, I could still hear the voice whispering in my ear, urging me to look back at the building, to embrace the horror that lurked within its walls. But I resisted, focusing instead on the stars above, and the promise of a new dawn on the horizon. For now, I was free, and that was all that mattered. But as I looked back over my shoulder, I could have sworn I saw a figure standing at the edge of the roof, watching me with cold, calculating eyes. And in that moment, I knew that this nightmare was far from over, and that the true horror was only just beginning... (4 experts) The sky scraper swayed, as I watched the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode. The deafening blast ripped through the sterile white conference room, shattering the monotony of our quarterly meeting. Papers and Styrofoam cups went flying, and I was knocked off balance, my heart racing with adrenaline. At first, I thought it was an earthquake or some freak accident, but as I stumbled to my feet, I realized the horror unfolding before my eyes. The man who had been presenting just moments earlier, now hung, skewered on shards of glass and concrete, his body twisted at an impossible angle. I froze in terror as a gust of wind howled through the gaping hole, carrying with it the acrid stench of blood and smoke. The windows of the neighboring offices cracked, some shattering completely as pressure waves from the blast rippled through the building. Glass rained down like icy daggers, and I scrambled to the corner of the room, my hands clamped over my head. Outside, people were screaming as they spilled into the street, some with flesh torn open, others with their clothes ablaze. The sky above was an eerie, sickly hue of orange and green, the atmosphere charged with electricity. I heard the distant wail of sirens, growing louder with each passing second, but the chaos outside seemed to intensify, as if the very fabric of reality was unraveling. As I huddled there, my breath coming in ragged gasps, I saw something that made my blood run cold. A figure, indistinguishable at first, began to emerge from the smoke and debris. It was humanoid, but distorted, like a twisted caricature of a human. Its body seemed to be pieced together from various limbs and organs, stitched together haphazardly. The creature's face was a grotesque amalgamation of features, a mash-up of different eyes, noses, and mouths. Some of the appendages were clearly human, but others belonged to animals - a lion's mane, a snake's tongue, claws like a bear's. The entity moved with a jerky, unnatural gait, its limbs flailing as if they didn't quite belong. As it stepped closer, its presence filled the room with an aura of pure malice and corruption. I felt my sanity teetering on the brink, and I knew I had to get away. With a surge of desperate strength, I launched myself towards the door, tripping and falling as I staggered through the debris-strewn corridor. I stumbled upon a staircase, and my mind raced with the thought of reaching the ground floor and escape. But as I began my descent, I heard the creature's unnerving, wet, gurgling laughter echoing through the building, growing louder with every step. The stairwell became a labyrinth of horrors, the walls slick with blood, the air thick with the stench of decay. I could feel its presence closing in behind me, the heat of its twisted body radiating through the floor. Each step felt like an eternity as I descended, my mind screaming with the knowledge that I was trapped, with nowhere to go, no place to hide from this monstrosity. The screams outside were growing fainter, the sirens now mere whispers in the distance, and I realized that whatever this creature was, it had brought a new kind of apocalypse to our city. As I reached the bottom floor, I saw a group of people, some naked, some barely clad, huddled against a wall, their skin blistered and charred. Their eyes were wide with fear and confusion, and I could tell they were no longer quite human. The air was filled with their pitiful whimpers, and the smell of burnt flesh. The staircase behind me came to life, as the creature emerged, its twisted form towering over me. It reached out with a hand made of tangled flesh and bone, its fingers ending in razor-sharp claws. I tried to scream, but my voice was lost amidst the cacophony of chaos and terror. As the claws descended towards me, I felt an overwhelming sense of despair wash over me, and I closed my eyes, bracing for the inevitable. The last thing I remembered was the feel of those talons sinking into my flesh, and then... nothing. The abyss consumed me, as the world around me imploded in a maelstrom of madness and horror. --- Using the following "story idea" below, write the first scene a horror novel introducing the young woman. This scene should start in the middle of the action, include dialog, vivid passages, and end on a cliffhanger relevant to the story idea but it should also be unexpected. The scene should be 1000 words long and escalate in conflict and suspense and be written in first person, present tense with the point of view character being the young woman. The pov character will CURSE AND SWEAR, and generally have a "filthy" mouth. Story idea: In a world ruled by dictatorship, a rebel young woman leads a rebellion against the system. Despite the risks, she fights to overthrow the dictator and restore democracy to her country. The government executes her for treason, but she sticks to her beliefs and is responsible for starting the revolution. Generation at 2,3, and 4 experts below. (temp 1.25, rep pen 1.02) (2 experts) The heat from the blazing torches seared into my flesh as I sprinted across the courtyard, the cold ground biting at my bare feet. Fuck, I hated running in sandals. But they were all I had left after my execution. "Stop, rebel!" The soldiers' cries echoed through the night, their weapons clutched tightly. They'd love to use those iron-fisted fists, just to prove a point. I'd seen it happen to others before me. Now it was my turn. Adrenaline surged through my veins as I dodged and weaved, my lungs burning from the exertion. The screams of the dying still lingered in my mind, their blood-soaked faces flashing before my eyes like a morbid film reel. It had been just hours since the executioner's axe split my comrade's skull, but it felt like a lifetime ago. I spotted the entrance to the sewers, barely visible in the shadows. My heart raced as I tore down the stone steps, the smell of decay and urine filling my nostrils. The soldiers' shouts grew distant, their torches casting eerie shadows on the walls. For a moment, I thought I'd made it. But then I heard the first splash, followed by the others, as they plunged into the filthy water after me. I picked up speed, my sandals squelching with each step. I could hear them gaining, their grunts and curses mingling with my own labored breathing. I'd never make it to the rendezvous point now; the rebels would be long gone by the time I emerged from these fetid tunnels. Panic set in, my thoughts spinning with worst-case scenarios. Suddenly, the darkness coalesced into a figure ahead. Tall, imposing, dressed in black. My blood froze as our eyes locked, his hand hovering near a long, wicked blade. I recognized the scar above his left eyebrow – it was Vraxos, one of the dictator's most ruthless enforcers. "Looks like the rebel bitch finally found herself alone," he sneered, a cruel grin spreading across his face. I stopped dead in my tracks, my heart pounding like a jackhammer. There were no rebels nearby to save me. No weapons, no escape. Just me and Vraxos, face to face in the bowels of a condemned city. "Fuck you," I spat, trying to sound braver than I felt. "You'll never take me alive." His chuckle was low and menacing. "Oh, I don't intend to," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "But we'll have some fun first." As he advanced, the flickering torchlight reflected off the blade, casting an unholy glow across his features. My breath hitched as I backed away, my eyes fixed on that gleaming edge. He was going to carve me to pieces down here, where no one would ever find my mutilated body. Vraxos lunged, and I stumbled, my sandals flying off as I landed hard on the slime-coated ground. He loomed over me, his stench of sweat and metal filling my nostrils, and I knew I was finished. But then, in that moment of utter despair, something strange happened. The shadows around us began to writhe and twist, as if alive. A cold wind whispered through the tunnels, extinguishing Vraxos's torch and plunging us into total darkness. For a heartbeat, the only sound was my own ragged breathing. Then, the ground trembled, and I felt the water level rising. The sewers were flooding, the heavy, relentless waves threatening to sweep me under. Panic surged anew, but Vraxos's roar of rage cut through it like a hot knife. "Fuck!" he bellowed, scrambling to his feet. "They can't do this! Not now!" Through the inky blackness, I heard the sound of rushing water, of debris crashing through the tunnels. I struggled to my feet, the icy liquid already waist-deep and rising fast. Vraxos appeared again, his blade glinting in the faint moonlight trickling in from above. But he wasn't alone – another figure stood behind him, tall and imposing in a dark hooded cloak. "Looks like your boys are running late," Vraxos snarled, his eyes darting between the newcomer and me. The figure pushed back its hood, revealing a striking face with piercing blue eyes. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Vraxos," it said, its voice smooth and commanding. "But I think it's time for us to have a little chat." My gaze darted between the two of them, the water lapping at my thighs. This was insane. What kind of miracle had just occurred? Who was this hooded stranger, and why did I get the feeling that he wasn't there to save me? "What the fuck is going on?" I growled, my words cut short by a wave of icy water crashing over my head. And then everything went black. (3 experts) I crouch in the dimly lit alley, sweat dripping down my face as I frantically scan the street for any sign of government goons. The humid night air clings to my skin like a damp shroud, and I can barely breathe without coughing up the filthy smoke that perpetually chokes our city. "Come on, fucking hurry," I mutter under my breath, bouncing my knee like a jackrabbit on a pogo stick. Every second feels like an eternity, my heart pounding in my ears like a drumline in a damn march. "Ready when you are, boss." That's Jax, my second in command and the most reliable shit-kicker I've ever met. His voice is low and steady, a soothing balm on this restless soul. I turn to him, my eyes scanning his grim face for any sign of doubt. Finding none, I flash him a tight-lipped smile. "Let's do this." We're about to infiltrate the Ministry of Truth, a fortress of propaganda and deception that houses the very man we've sworn to dismantle—Dictator Kael himself. His reign of terror has lasted for nearly a decade, and his iron grip on our country is as tight as my fucking grip on the dagger at my waist. I push off the alley wall, the worn soles of my boots slapping against the wet pavement. The stench of stale garbage and rotting vegetables assaults my nostrils as I sprint toward the imposing edifice. We've hacked the security codes, but nothing guarantees a smooth ride. Not with Kael's goons on the payroll. As I burst through the entrance, a guard lunges forward, his hand on the grip of his firearm. "Halt! Who goes there?" I grin, flashing my badge with a wicked glint in my eye. "Inspectora Isadora Vega of the Secret Police. I'm here for the weekly intel briefing." The guard hesitates, his brow furrowing as he scrutinizes my face, then the ID. Apparently satisfied, he steps aside, allowing me to pass with Jax close on my heels. "Looks like you're getting the VIP treatment," he whispers in my ear as we slip into the labyrinth of corridors. I smirk, a thrill of excitement coursing through my veins. We've made it past the first line of defense, but the real challenge is only beginning. As we approach the elevator, a stern-faced woman steps out, her eyes narrowing on me with icy disdain. "Inspector Vega, I've been expecting you." My gut twists, a bad feeling settling in the pit of my stomach. Her presence can only mean one thing—Kael's waiting for us. "Agent Martinez, it's a pleasure," I lie smoothly, trying to mask the apprehension creeping into my voice. She flashes a cold smile. "Lead the way, Inspector. Your...boss awaits." As I follow her through the labyrinth of corridors, my mind reels with trepidation. What kind of trap have they prepared for us? And what does Kael plan to do when he finally gets his hands on me? I quicken my pace, my fingers curling around the dagger at my belt as I prepare for the inevitable confrontation ahead. Suddenly, the doors to the grand throne room slide open with a deafening clang, revealing a sea of crimson-clad guards, their eyes fixed on me like hungry predators. And there, atop the dais, stands Kael—a towering monolith of malevolence, his face twisted in a cruel smirk. "Well, well, well," he purrs, his voice dripping with venom. "If it isn't the infamous Isadora Vega—leader of the traitorous rebellion and sworn enemy of the state." My heart thunders in my chest, a cold dread settling in the pit of my stomach as I realize my worst fears have come true—this was a setup, and I've walked straight into the trap. But I won't go down without a fight. I grip the dagger tighter, the metal biting into my skin like an icy promise of vengeance. "I'm not here to play games, Kael," I snarl, my voice dripping with contempt. "I'm here to end your fucking regime once and for all." And with that, the nightmare begins. (4 experts) "Fuck!" I curse as I stumble out of the dingy alleyway, my face throbbing where I took the hit to the jaw. I spit a wad of blood onto the cracked asphalt and blink, trying to clear my blurry vision. That bastard lieutenant had caught me off guard, but I wouldn't let him get the best of me. My heart races, and my chest heaves as I scan my surroundings. The city is ablaze under the sickly yellow glow of the moon. The usual nighttime hum of the metropolis is replaced with the distant rumble of tanks and gunfire. This is no ordinary night in the once-great nation now known as the Dictator's Domain. I stumble forward, hands trailing along the cold wall to steady myself. Every step is a battle against the waves of pain crashing through my skull. I finally reach the nondescript door I had hoped to slip back into unseen – the safe house for rebel leaders like myself. But as I twist the knob, I realize it's locked. "Fucking hell!" My frustration boils over as I pound on the door, shouting for the others inside. "Let me in! Now, you cocksuckers!" A gunshot rings out, muffled by the walls. My stomach drops, and cold fear slithers up my spine. Someone inside is injured or worse. Panic claws at my mind. I turn back to the alley, but I know better than to return to the shadows now. Every second counts. I spot a first-aid kit lying abandoned on the ground and snatch it up, my mind racing with options. As I rummage through the kit, I hear the heavy thud of boots echoing toward me. The lieutenant and his goons aren't far behind. I tear open a packet of gauze and press it against my bleeding cheek as I take off in a sprint toward the nearby park. The city's chaotic heartbeat pounds against my eardrums as I weave through the deserted streets. I can practically hear the Dictator's maniacal laughter mocking me, but I don't dare look back, fearing what I might see. The park looms before me, dark and foreboding under the canopy of twisted, dying trees. I dash across the crumbling pavement, desperate to lose myself among the gnarled branches and overgrown underbrush. The park's labyrinthine pathways could be my salvation or my tomb. Suddenly, I skid to a halt, my breath hitching in my chest. A figure stands before me, dressed in black from head to toe, their face obscured by a hood. My heart hammers against my ribs as I fumble for the knife strapped to my thigh. "Don't shoot," I warn, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's just –" But as the figure slowly raises its hand, revealing the glint of a radio, any remaining doubt fades. My rebel comrades. The signal for evacuation. "Move out, now!" I shout, grabbing the stranger's wrist and pulling them toward the thickest part of the park. We can't afford to be caught in the open. As we run, I can only hope that I'll reach safety, that my friends will escape, and that the rebellion will continue to spread like wildfire through the oppressed hearts of this once-great nation. But with every pounding footstep, the shadows closing in, and the screams of the city echoing in my ears, I'm not so sure anymore. And then, without warning, everything goes black. The ground rushes up to meet me, and I feel a sickening crunch as I slam into something hard, sending sparks shooting behind my closed eyes. As consciousness fades, I'm vaguely aware of a heavy weight crushing down upon me, squeezing the air from my lungs, and whispering, "You're done, traitor," in my ear before the darkness claims me completely. Will I live to see another sunrise? The Dictator's wrath awaits, and I fear that I've finally met my end... but even in death, I'll not be silenced. The fight will go on, and my legacy will outlive this cruel regime. The revolution will never truly die as long as a single rebel stands against the tyranny of the oppressors. And even if it seems hopeless, I know that my people will rise again, just as the phoenix rises from the ashes. This is far from over. The real horror is only just beginning.