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BintangFortuna

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Bintang Fortuna 3

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: When humans make contact with the wider galactic community, it is discovered we were the only species to use rockets for space travel. Most other species use much safer antigravity tech. So they are appalled to learn that we basically propel ourselves into space with explosions." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Here you can see, Commander Smith, the photonics engines that the Syl’dior use to traverse their planetary systems. They can achieve near light speed velocity within a star system.”\n\nCommander Smith looked at the obviously organic ship and pondered what humans could learn from it. He then followed the guide to the next terminal.\n\n“Due to their home system containing a binary star cluster, the Cratequins developed advanced light sails. They discovered earlier on how an endless supply of solar radiation could be utilized for, well, almost everything. And being a photosynthetic life form was also a way for them to feed during space travel.”\n\nThe human admired the wide sails the were currently tucked around the huge, cylindrical ship on the screen. After noting a few technical aspects in his pad, the Commander then turned to the next display.\n\nThe guide continued its lesson on propulsion. “I don’t have an Earth translation for these next beings, as they communicate via pheromones. Their travel methods are also unique to other spacefarers in that they use a reactionary force propulsion system…”\n\nThe guide stopped after seeing the human’s expression change.\n\nThe Commander, in the silence, stated, “Thts how human ships function. We basically use the reactionary force of the ignition of combustibles to attain flight to leave our gravity well. We then ignite larger boosters to then attain near relativistic speeds.”\n\nThe guide stared in shock. “Um, Commander Smith, these species uses psychic energy stimulated by positive thoughts. The reactionary thoughts of the crew and passengers generates a psionic push. They then use arbitrary, negative thoughts to then slow their shops down.”\n\nThe Commander looked sheepish after hearing the explanation.\n\nThe guide continued to stare and then asked, “So those large containers on your ship are carrying a liquid fuel that you ignite? What happens if there’s a leak?”\n\nThe Commander shrugged. “If there’s a leak, then a ship would be stranded until a ship can refuel us with requisite materials.”\n\n“And if you are in unexplored territory?” The guide asked.\n\n“Um, well, then the ship is more than likely lost.”\n\nThe guide looked equal parts shaken, sickened, and angry. “You just leave your people to die?!”\n\nThe Commander looked slightly offended. “Not if we can help it. But it could cost an exorbitant amount of fuel to launch a rescue mission. Fuel is scarce in space.”\n\nThe guide waved one of its tentacles around. “There’s solar energy everywhere! Black holes can be scavenged for loose Meson particles to use in cyclical fusion impactors! You could scoop up asteroids for rare metals and gasses and transmute them using nanotechnology! We know you have telekinetic beings. Has your species not fully studied the nearly limitless energy from the slyphsink wells the power organic mental skills?!”\n\nThe Commander threw his arms up in the air. “We are looking into it! It was a lot for us to find out about when we got out of the Sol system. We would have to totally redo our rocket building infrastructure, retrain millions of workers. Do you know how much that would cost?”\n\nThe guide replied, “Well, the cost of personhours would be high, but won’t your planet eventually run out of the basic resources for the fuel?”\n\nThe human thought about how to respond. “Okay. That was a fear in the beginning. But then we found other planets and just started taking it from them. We can live off a planet for decades of Earthtime. But it’s not the labor that costs a lot. It’s the initial money investments. Who’s going to pay for that?”\n\nThe ensuing conversation with the guide concerning how humans still used currency, used planet based materials for fuel, and that humans basically ride in traveling bombs resulted in no human ships allowed to dock in any galactic outpost. And an intergalactic investigation into how not all humans are treated equally." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: While investigating a mysterious hole that appeared in your backyard, you fell in like an idiot. After the first 30 seconds of falling you realized you were going to die. But now you've been falling for at least two hours and you're really confused." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At this point, it was just getting annoying. Having the swirling darkness blind me as I fell deeper into the pit. If I had to guess, I would imagine it's been about two hours since I fell, although I had nothing to go off. The sun lost its visibility an hour ago so I was just working off estimates.\n\nIt's funny how well your body seems to adjust to falling, the sensation becoming the new norm after a few minutes of it. I had to wonder what became of the pot plant I had carried outside. To think that this was all caused by my little green friend needing some sun. I think I dropped him outside of the hole but it was hard to say, I couldn't exactly fly back up and check.\n\nI wonder how this hole even appeared. It's my backyard, it's not even like I was walking through a construction site or some dangerous area. I just stepped outside and suddenly fell. I wonder if I could sue someone for this? I guess I could try and sue mother nature, but I feel she would end up countersuing me for the damages I had done to the planet. Maybe I could get the plant to stand in as my friend? A character witness that would help me plead my case. After I took a moment to think over that statement in my head, I began to realize that not only was I falling down a hole, I was also falling into madness.\n\nI did consider trying to latch onto the edges of the hole, gripping them in the hopes of slowing down my descent. That plan soon fell out the window however once I worked out that if I were to dig my fingernails into the edges, it would either result in my bloodied body scrapping along its sharp edges or the breaking of multiple fingers. Neither seemed pleasant so I resigned myself to my fate. Next time I fell into an endless hole, I would bring a book.\n\nThe next hour of floating was when true madness set in. Flapping my arms as if they were wings, making low pitched owl squeals as I pretended to look for food in the night. Yes, this was a low point in my life, not as much as that time I ended up crying at a ten dollar buffet, but this was a close second.\n\nFinally, hope appeared in the form of a shining light, its golden rays stretching out towards me. I lifted my arms apart, offering to embrace the light, only to tuck my hands against my chest when I realized this embrace was going to be a rather painful one.\n\nI shut my eyes to keep out the light, only opening them when my head collided with what I assumed to be a floor. I wearily glanced up to see a wondrous sight. Greenfields in the distance littered with long finely crafted blades of grass. The graceful mountains were angelic, their peaks seeming to reach the heavens, soft kisses of snow drenching their tops. As I pulled myself to my feet, I was greeted by a tall bearded man, his loose grey robes seeming to melt off his body, tattered fabrics getting caught beneath his feet.\n\n\"So.. fate has chosen you? I am Augmatis the wizard, arch ruler of each of the nine holy realms. I asked the heavens for a champion, asked them for a soldier and they have sent me one. If you would be so kind as to grace me with your name, I will fill you in with the details of your quest.\"\n\nThe wizard looked at me longingly, It was a little creepy to get stared at by some random old dude, plus this whole champion thing seemed a little sketchy. I glanced back at the hole, then at the old man. \"Look, I do appreciate your offer but my plant needs to be taken back inside so.\" Before he could utter up any protest I threw myself back into the hole. I assumed it would take me home, where else would it go?\n\nAugmatis leaned over the edge of the hole screaming at me. \"YOU CANNOT OUTRUN YOUR DESTINY.\" It seemed a little late for that and soon his wrinkly face was out of view. For the fall this time, I pretended to be a mother duck, floating through the air, teaching her ducklings to fly. When the hole did finally open up again, I was tossed through my screen door, sent rolling into the living room. I dusted the thin black fly net off my body as I stepped back up. \"Not the flynet! that's going to be a pain to repair.\" I huffed, heading outside to collect my plant again, only to see those holes everywhere I looked, the only safe place left seemed to be my home. It was like I was playing a weird game of the floor is lava with an arcane wizard.\n\n\"Sorry little plant,\" I muttered, retreating to the comfort of the indoors. Seems his spell didn't work on manmade structures. Guess we are playing a waiting game then, aren't we Augmatis? Either I would forget about these holes, or he would get a new champion. The new champion idea seemed unlikely though. As I looked out the window I could see people casually walking over the massive pits, seeming to be immune to their draw. Guess I was the unlucky one.\n\n{If you enjoyed my story, Feel free to check out r/pmmeyabootysstories Any support helps! I will also be posting more of my writing there.}" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: You are a powerful ancient wizard, masquerading as an unassuming, friendly and senile history teacher. But when a supervillain threatens your school, they learn to never underestimate senior citizens." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Teaching history is always fun. I don't think the kids pay half as much attention as they'd like me to believe, but there's always one or two with a real passion for the subject. They don't speak up about it in class, of course - no one wants to be the swot - but you can tell that they're actually interested.\n\nThe national curriculum says I have to teach them certain facts about certain topics, but frankly the facts are boring and frequently pointless. We had a king who had six wives, he divorced two, had two executed, one died in childbirth and the other outlived him. Outside of a pub quiz, when is anybody going to need to know the details of that? That said king had a suit of tournament plate with a massive cock on the front? Now that's interesting, and it teaches far more about the period than just the details of one king's marital issues.\n\nDon't get me wrong; a couple of the wives have some useful lessons in there - Henry VIII of England went to war during the reformation to defend the Catholic church - the Pope at the time named him \"Defender of the Faith\". Then, when they refused to let him divorce his first wife for giving him a daughter, he immediately decided to kick them out of England and found his own \"Church of England\", now known as the Anglicans, while at the same keeping the title given to him by the pope. The lesson being, of course, the people at the top are almost always hypocrites, and will absolutely throw you under the bus if it suits their needs.\n\nNow I've never had much of an interest in political power. I could have it if I really wanted it, but I've always been too much of an academic at heart - and, as an academic, nothing makes me happier than seeing young minds take an interest in knowledge. I see them as my own children, in a way. So when I heard an explosion down the hall from my classroom in a London secondary school, followed by a voice that sounded like it was coming through a synthesizer, I was not impressed.\n\n\"You will give me what I demand, or I will destroy this school and everybody in it,\" came the mechanical sounding voice of some damned fool upstart or other. I could never keep track of them all; some used science, some had some form of mutation or other, and some were even aliens. There have always been some, though there seem to be a lot more of them these days; I've heard of more in the last ten years than the previous ten centuries. I muttered an incantation under my breath to protect myself from impacts, told the students to take cover, then went to see what all the fuss was about this time.\n\nThe fuss, as it happens, was about money. This idiot who called himself \"Doctor Mechanicus\" attacked my school and threatened my children because he wanted money to keep his equipment maintained; something on the order of a billion pounds. I just sighed.\n\n\"OK young man, you've had your fun. Now how about you bugger off back home before things get any worse than they already are, all right?\" I suggested to person in his mechanical armour; covered in gears that I assume must have been for decoration.\n\nThe young fool laughed. Of course he did; so far as he could tell, I was just an elderly man; a little over six feet tall but quite skinny. \"But what if I want things to get worse?\" he asked mockingly.\n\n\"Then by all means continue what you're doing, and we shall see just how much worse things can become,\" I said quietly, before muttering a second incantation to allow me to fly. I hadn't used that one in a very long time - radar has made flying undetected much more difficult than it used to be, and I was never really interested in putting myself out there. This aspiring supervillain, however, was leaving me little choice. He lifted a hand, and fired a small swarm of miniature rockets at my feet.\n\nThe explosion knocked me against the wall - were it not for my defensive spell, it would certainly have killed me. I rose to my feet, and made a show of dusting myself off.\n\n\"Very well then,\" I said, slowly rising off of the floor. I muttered once more under my breath, and an ebony staff a little longer than I was tall appeared in my hand. \"I could use the practice.\"\n\nMy next spell, enhanced by my staff, was one of telekinesis. I snatched \"Doctor Mechanicus\" from the air, and began slamming him against the ground repeatedly. He let off another salvo of rockets, which I used my telekinesis to divert back at him. He dodged, and flew directly at me; no doubt hoping that my age would make me vulnerable to brute force. With an ebony staff reinforced with magical power, I hit his helmet hard enough to put a dent into it, and he lost control of his suit. I used my telekinesis to bring him safely to the ground.\n\nI removed his helmet to ensure I hadn't killed him, and I recognised him from the school; maybe five or ten years back (it gets hard to remember exactly at my age). He was breathing, and his heart was still going, so I removed his weaponry and began to heal the injury. As he regained consciousness, the first thing he heard must have been me saying \"You fucking idiot. Of all the places to ransom, why a working class school - and of all the schools, why this one? Now there are witnesses to us fighting, so I can't just let you go. I am so disappointed. Remember: those with power will do whatever it takes to keep that power. Money is power - nobody with access to billions is going to give it to you for a bunch of poor kids. Fuck.\"\n\n\"Doctor Mechanicus\" was arrested not long after, and I made myself scarce so as to avoid any uncomfortable interviews. Not long after, I showed up at a school in Liverpool; looking maybe twenty years younger. I always feel bad about having to abandon my kids, but nobody can know that Merlin is real." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: The Iraq War was fake. It was the name for a secret project that used the money to turn the entire USA into a giant spaceship" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Mr. Obama!” shouted Hilary, kicking in the door to the Oval Office. “Don’t touch that fucking shit-cunt of a button!”\n\n“Why not, Clinton?” Obama said, pretending to push his palm down on the button. He loved teasing her.\n\n“You don’t understand what it could do to this nation.” Hilary took two steps toward the Resolute desk, cautious not to get close enough to startle Obama. “Just do not push that.”\n\n“You’re not the boss of me, Mrs. Bossypants. I’m the President. I can do whatever I want. You’re just a secretary. Of state.”\n\n“You’re right, sir. You’re right,” Hilary said, slowly taking another step forward. “You are better than me, just for the love of all the hairy, veiny dicks in this world, do not push that button. I beg of you.”\n\n“Too late, I—” the window behind Obama exploded, glass shattering into the room and slashing into the back of Obama’s swivel chair.\n\n“Obama!” shouted a deep, southern voice from the drawn curtains behind Obama. “Oooobbbaaammmaaaa!” George W. Bush Jr. exploded through the curtains, rolling across the ground and landing on his feet just beside Obama. A Blackhawk helicopter hovered just outside the window, six men wearing gimp suits tied where the missiles and Gatling guns should be.\n\n“Bush?” Obama said, hand still over the button.”\n\n“Don’t touch that button,” Bush said, breathing heavily and brushing shattered glass off his navy blue suit. A golden American flag was pinned to his lapel.\n\n“What the hell did you fly in on?” Obama said, staring at the sex slave helicopter.\n\n“That’s my gimpcopter. I can get you one if you want. It shoots gimps at terrorists and turns gay. You just need to not push that button and its all yours.”\n\n“You’re not the president anymore,” Obama said. He took out his wallet and removed his driver’s license. “Do you see this?” he said, holding it to Bush’s face. Hilary was now standing just in front of the desk.\n\n“Yes,” Bush said.\n\n“What does it say?”\n\n“Barrack Hussein Obama, President of the United States of America, and organ donor.”\n\n“Exactly,” Obama said. “I’m the President. I do what I want, not what you want.” Obama lowered his hand to the button so that it touched his palm.\n\n“Wait!” shouted Hilary, pounding her fist on the Resolute desk. “Just wait a cock-knocking second.”\n\n“Don’t,” Bush said, staring at Hilary.\n\n“We need to,” she said, shaking her head. “That button is the Jetfire Protocol, precursor to our Optimus Prime protocol.”\n\n“Like the Transformers?”\n\n“Robots in disguise,” Bush said, shaking his head slowly.\n\n“Yes,” Hilary nodded. “We had it installed during the Iraq War. It was a program we collaborated with Iraq for. Saddam helped build it, but was killed when it malfunctioned. We sent our troops to Iraq so we could better work on their half of the program.”\n\n“What exactly is it?” Obama said, staring at the button. It was just a simple, red button hidden underneath the top of the Resolute desk. He’d stumbled upon it while trying to find somewhere to carve his name into the desk with his pocket knife.\n\n“It turns the United States into a jet that then flies into space. We were going to create a whole line of them, turn Iraq into an 18 wheeler under the Optimus Prime protocol.”\n\n“What?” Obama said.\n\n“You heard me. We turned the United States into Jetfire, the transformer. It seemed practical at the time.”\n\n“Fuck my cock did it seem practical,” Hilary nodded. She pounded her fist against the desk. “Practical as a tower of boners at a gay bar.”\n\n“It turned out that it wasn’t practical,” Bush said. “Space has no oxygen. We forgot about that. Dumped trillions into the program, replaced the entire base of the country with jet thrusters and cool metal wings and stuff. But we forgot that we would need oxygen. Thought the trees would solve that issue, but then we found out trees die sometimes.”\n\n“But it works otherwise?” Obama said.\n\n“Yes,” Bush said. “We tested it once. The entire country shook, but just for a split second to confirm it functioned. Pretended it was an earthquake afterward and had the media under-report its occurrences. If it wasn’t for the oxygen issue, the U.S.A. would be the first country literally flying through space right now.”\n\n“But you’re telling me that this country could turn into a plane and fly into space at this very second, except that everyone would die due to a lack of oxygen?”\n\n“Fucking right we are,” Hilary said. “It was a great idea, the best idea, but it failed to deliver in the way we intended it to. Fucking sucks sweaty sack.”\n\n“Well,” Obama said, staring at the button, “I guess that makes my job easier.”\n\n“What do you mean?” Bush said, staring at Obama’s chest. A tiny, red and white shirt with a black shape seemed to be peaking from beneath his dress shirt.\n\n“This,” Obama said, slamming his hand down on the button. The room immediately responding with a violent shake that spread throughout the entire country. A smile spread across his face as he turned toward Hilary, his right arm raised toward the ceiling in a Nazi salute.\n\n“Hitler sends his regards.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: Your invention changed the world. You quickly became one of the richest and most famous people in history. But now it's five years later, and the ramifications of what you've done are becoming apparent, and you're the most hated person on the planet." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "To be perfectly honest, I cannot even call it an invention. It was pure luck. Yes, I was just lucky. At the right place, at the right time. Of course, I have never said these words in any of my interviews, but how could I? I was overwhelmed with all the fame, money, admiration one could ever imagine. That was not the time to be humble. On the contrary, I have always said that I worked hard. Night and day. Relentlessly. I have always said that I pursuit a dream which was deemed impossible to achieve. I knew that many folks like these kinds of American Dream stories, so I gave them another one, even tough it couldn't be far from the truth. Looking back, maybe I deserved what I got. Not the money and fame I mean, but being the most hated person on the face of the Earth.\n\nIt all started when I took over my dad's yogurt factory. My dad was in his late seventies. Way too old to run a factory. It was a small place where less than 50 people were working. I was mainly dealing with the profit statements, revenue, operational costs etc. You know, all that boring accounting stuff. I knew next to nothing about yogurt production. I wasn't very curious either. The whole thing was working like tick-tock and we could pay everyone's salary. All that was good enough for me, until I met Robert.\n\nThe next week it will be seven years since I first met Robert. Homely face with curly hair. I don't know exactly how old he was, but definitely no more than 35. He started talking by introducing himself. He was working in the Quality Assurance Department. I didn't even know what that department was doing. Testing the yogurts before packaging maybe? I didn't know, I didn't care. Robert tried to explain his department and his job but I was too busy thinking about the lunch, I really couldn't understand much. The important thing was that they were working on some new substance that we can add into yogurts to suppress hunger. The idea is to repackage a brand new product and sell it to fitness freaks. They already got an approval from FDA and now they need my approval to proceed. My first instinct was to say no. We got a good thing going, why mess it up, right? But I didn't want any confrontation with any department and I was really hungry to discuss anything. Nonchalantly, I said \"okay, go ahead\".\n\nIt turns out that this substance works wonders. People who eat our yogurt couldn't get hungry for 6 hours, sometimes up to 10 hours. We started to expand our business to catch up with the demand. We improved the substance and we started to add additional calories to our yogurt. Not just calories, but also some minerals, vitamins etc. The idea quickly morphed into producing a package of 400-gram yogurt that a person needs in his entire day. In just under a year, we became a multi billion-dollar company with hundreds of thousands of customers all around the planet. Everyone started to talk about our big invention. No more wasting time at the breakfast tables. No more lunch times. No more grocery shopping. All you need is to buy one of our $1 yogurt package, and you are good to go for the next 24 hours. Yes, you still need to drink water throughout the day. But we solved the food problem. After eating the yogurt, you don't have any desire for any food whatsoever, even for junk food, chocolate, or alcoholic drinks. Since you get all your daily needs from our yogurt, there is no health problem. Actually, we were finally getting rid of the obesity epidemic and malnutrition in Africa at the same time. This gave us a big legitimacy when farmers and restaurants started rioting and demanding a ban on our yogurt in every single country.\n\nI quickly became the richest person in the world. I was holding 51% of the stocks of our company which is now valued at ten trillion dollars. We decimated the entire food industry. We even stopped using milk for the yogurt. Everything was prepared in the labs. The world suddenly felt no need for fruits, vegetables, meat, eggs, any kind of food. Only our yogurt... It is not even yogurt at this point, it just a bunch of chemicals. However, we stick with the word \"yogurt\" which is way better than \"A bunch of chemicals\" for marketing reasons. Board of directors decided that they needed some sympathy points from the public and decided to sell me as the genius behind all this. How did they do this? Well, they put my face on the yogurt package. As you imagine, in just a couple of days, I became the most famous person ever lived on the planet. People even thought I was some kind of prophet or something. I enjoyed every bit of it.\n\nIt was all fun and games until someone noticed the increased rate of cancer for the past couple of years. It didn't take long for some French scientists to discover that my yogurt was actually carcinogenic. The word got spread real fast. Suddenly, everyone got scared and stopped eating the yogurt. But surprise, surprise! There is nothing to eat now. Supermarkets don't sell any food whatsoever anymore. There are barely any farmers, barely any wheat or corn lands. Even the cows and chickens almost got extinct if you don't count the ones in zoos.\n\nIt is all mayhem. Some people started to eat trees, grasses, their pets, whatever they get their hands on. Our civilization suddenly turned into a paleolithic era. Software developers have become hunter-gatherers. Some people chose cancer and continued to eat yogurt. As our company is now worth peanuts, I am now the most hated person maybe in the history of this planet. Hundreds of thousands of people who got diagnosed with cancer now trying to kill me, like it would solve their problem.\n\nWhat do I feel about all this? Sad mostly. I truly feel very sorry for what happened. But all I can do is just sitting in my home and eating a cup of yogurt everyday." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: You are the narrator of an everyday mans entire life. Everything you say, the man is forced to do, no matter what. Unfortunately for him, you are a complete sociopath." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Stan watched the girl sleep in the moonlight.\n\nHe watched the girl's breast expand and compress. A thin slit of rogue illumination blossomed on her pale skin, providing scant, sultry detail. Stan allowed himself a reluctant sigh.\n\nStan lovingly ran a hand over her stomach.\n\nShe shivered, but did not wake. Her skin was warm and soft and wonderful under his cheap duvet. It had been so long since he had enjoyed the embrace of skin, since he had been allowed a moment's reprise. Maybe this was a new chapter.\n\nStan kissed the girl's neck.\n\nHe didn't want to. The urge welled from a deep pit in his gut. It was a blackness that spread throughout his body and yanked his muscle fibers. He resigned to it, as he had thousands of times before. His lips met her flesh and she stirred, instinctively running her hands through his hair. She moaned herself out of slumber. It was only their third date, but it had gone well. She was smart and quirky, charming and witty. She wasn't the looker his peers lusted over, but for him, she was perfect. The voice had been quiet lately, intervening less and less in his life. He had almost gotten used to the uniformity of it all. It's easy to forget the blessing of consistency.\n\nStan mounted her.\n\nAgain the phantoms tugged on his being and threw his leg over her supple body. The voice echoed through his skull with it's usual demonic intones. But it's helping me, I think. Either way, this was no time to think about it. That was the best strategy he had found to dealing with the voice, ignoring it. He had raged against it until his throat was bloody and muscles useless under coats of lactic acid. Nothing had worked, and he was beginning to suspect nothing ever will. Relent to it, hope that it has a higher purpose for you.\n\nSilently, Stan drew the hidden knife from behind the headboard.\n\nHidden knife? There's nothing-- His arm jutted out and groped the back of the thinly cushioned bed frame. His lips remained locked on her neck. Don't leave a bruise, she called out between labored breaths. Her nails dug into his lean back and he shivered in pleasure. His fingers found the kitchen knife and freed it from it's duck tape sheath. No. Please, god, whatever you are, no. He tried to cry out, but his voice was nowhere to be found, his throat a constricting amalgamation of muscle and phlegm.\n\nStan stopped to look at the girl.\n\nHer eyes were big and brown and pleading. They called for him and his lips and his body and his touch. Is something wrong, she asked in the darkness. Yes, Lucia, everything is wrong. Not her, please, anyone but her, please please please. Stan had grown attached to this one, but she was too perfect. Stan? She stirred, unwilling to break her arousal. Just give me something you monster! Stan's face twisted in anguish. The moonlight cast cruel shadows across his sharp features.\n\nStan brought the knife down into her throat. Cleanly. Precisely.\n\nThe sharpened blade sliced through her jugular with a single thrust and pierced the pillows below. There was no scream or cry, no thrashing or resistance, only the solemn silence that followed the passing of a life. The big, brown eyes never left his face. He sat there until the sun rose and her pale skin tinged blue.\n\nStan, satisfied with his work, carried the girl downstairs.\n\nThe scalding fingers wracked his brain, rewiring his neuron pathways and scrambling his thoughts. He was locked out. He watched his body lift the girl over his shoulder and carry her down the creaking stairs into the basement. The satisfaction engulfed his conscious, pinning his mind within itself. I'm going to kill myself the first chance I get, some distant corner of his brain said as it raged against the cell doors it had been enclosed in. You just watch you fucking monster. The satisfaction scalded his mind, but he raged all the same.\n\nStan placed the body carefully in line with the others, completing the fourth arc of the diagram.\n\nHe set her down softly. She deserved as much. The grey cement floor had been forgotten under the mottled shades of dried blood. 17 bodies laid in an extravagant design that he could not begin to understand. Their eyes were all open, all the same. The darkness released him and his knees gave out under the weight of his body. Tears flowed freely. What's it all for? What does this thing want from me? I just want to live. You here that you son of a bitch? I don't want whatever this is. I just want to be me!\n\nStan allowed himself a moment of mourning for the sacrifices, for their lives were forfeit to the greater good. Soon the ritual would be complete. Soon, the world would know of Stan and the sacrifices would be honored and worshipped as the vessels of the new existence." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: For some bizarre reason your clothes just couldn’t stay on. Tight as you tied them, they slid off like you were made of oil, much to your embarrassment." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Elizabeth had been a shy girl, fond of modest clothes and back seats and quiet corners. She counted few among her aquantences and fewer still among her friends.\n\nSo when she was grouped with the class witch for a physics project, she did her part and no more. The witch failed to do her contribution, which she blamed on elizabeth's lack of communication. Things got heated on the magician's side, and timid and frightful on elizabeth's. The witch cursed her and went about the rest of her day.\n\nThat night elizabeth would don her comfiest pajamas and try to forget the trials of her day. The morning brought with it the full effect of the curse, tangled in her bedding was her favorite pajamas and tried to put them on. To her surprise they no longer fit, the pants would slide down her bottom and her shirt opened up to miss her shoulders and fall about her feet.\n\nSome part of her knew it was the curse, some part of her dared not beleive it, and some small sadistic part of her was enjoying her embarassment.\n\n\"Mooooom!\" She called, as loud as she could muster, which meant that her mother barely heard her through the floor between them.\n\nWithin moments her mother was in Elizabeth's room, and Elizabeth was under her covers. \"What is it honey?\"\n\n\"I'm sick today, I need to stay home.\" She tried to lie, but of course, she was a poor liar.\n\n\"Now dear, i know it's not fun to go to school, but if you miss another day who knows what'll happen to your grades?\"\n\n\"B-but mom, I'm really sick!\"\n\n\"Well let's see how you feel after breakfast.\" Elizabeth's mother smiled as she pulled back the covers. \"But first- oh my.\" She turned and looked away \"I hadn't realized you had taken to sleeping nude. Well, why don't you get dressed and come downstairs for breakfast?\"\n\n\"I-i can't.\" She admitted. \"I-i tried and it won't work.\"\n\n\"What do you mean 'it won't work'?\" Her mother sounded irritated, but she tried to remain patient.\n\n\"L-look...\" Elizabeth instructed, picking up a tee shirt from her dresser. Once she had her mother's attention she tried to put it on, only to have it fall over her entire body and fall about her feet.\n\n\"Oh, that's magic alright. Let me call the school, I'll have your sister bring breakfast up to you.\" Her mother assured, going downstairs to make the call.\n\nHer sister respected her privacy as much as she could, leaving it by the door to let her eat alone. After breakfast, her mother returned. \"Well... I have good news and bad news.\" She said. \"The good news is that the school has a disenchanter on staff and she's going to do what she can for you, the bad news is you still have to attend class.\"\n\n\"B-but I can't get dressed!\" Elizabeth protested.\n\n\"An exception will be made for you, but you'll have to sit in the front row, it'll be safer there.\" Her mother assured.\n\nDefeated, Elizabeth went to school, where her two closest friends where already there to escort her to her first class.\n\n\"Wow, you really did get cursed huh?\" Mina asked.\n\n\"This must be incredibly embarassing...\" Veronica said. \"Well... There's only one thing to do about that huh?\" Veronica looked at Mina, who nodded and in a moment both she and Veronica where nude as well.\n\n\"Y-you guys don't have to-\" Elizabeth said bright red.\n\n\"We have permission to do it.\" Veronica assured.\n\n\"And I kinda get off on it, but yeah solidarity or whatever.\" Mina interjected with a smirk.\n\nElizabeth blushed, but was happy for her friend's company. Throught the day they where approached by several people to express their sympathies for her newfound curse and often tell her awkwardly \"you look good naked.\" Which was a boost to her confidence.\n\nIt took the disenchanter a week to resolve the curse, and by that time she had grown more confident naked then she had ever been clothed. Elizabeth went on to show up to school half-dressed most of the time, and often less on test days. Her grades improved and she found herself suddenly friends with just about everyone, including the witch who cursed her." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: A man tries to facebook stalk his ex-girlfirends. Theres only one problem, they've all gone missing." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I had been sitting in the cold featureless room for an hour, waiting. Maybe not entirely featureless. The ceiling had standard office tiles. Florescent lights occasionally flickered. A mirrored window on one side of the room showed me my every movement. A steel table and four chairs sat in the room. I was sitting on one, and in my hand I help a paper coffee cup, filled with water at my request. Still, it had to be one of the dullest rooms I had ever been in.\n\nWhen the door opened I could feel the rush of air as pressure equalized with the outside world. Two men walked in and sat down. Equally featureless. Picture two stereotypical detectives, one slightly older and balding and with a bushy moustahce, and you have pictured these two. The other took off his jacket and placed it on the back of his chair before they both took a seat across from me. Moustahce started\"So Mr. Johnson, let me get the facts straight before we start here. You only just recently created your first facebook account. After several weeks you decided to look up all your exes and discovered none of them were on it. Suspicious, you looked them up and discovered that all of them had disappeared approximately two to four years after you dated them. Upon discovering this you contacted us immediately to tell us, which was only a few hours ago, and the rest of the facts I experienced first hand?\"\n\n\"Not entirely. I contacted my father first, since he is a lawyer, and my lawyer if I need one. He told me I needed to make a statement right away, which I figured, and that he'd drive down tonight and meet me in the morning.\"\n\n\"I see.\" Jacket picked up. \"So, how far away does your father live?\"\n\n\"Eight hours. It will take him all night to drive down.\"\n\n\"And you are okay with talking with us until he gets here?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Are you aware we found DNA at the scenes of several of their believed abductions, and that it matched in all the cases?\"\n\nThis threw me slightly. I hadn't read anything about that. If I was crazy and killing them without knowing it I would give me away. Still, better I be stopped. \"No I wasn't, and yes I'd be willing to give a sample.\"\n\n\"That's very nice but there is no need we already got one. The first cup of water we gave you was replaced when I refilled it. You need to confess your part in this now before we get the results back.\" Moustache leaned forward as he said this, until is slightly protruding belly was pressed hard against the table. \"I have nothing to do with this. Well, obviously something, but I'm not trying to commit any crimes, I just want to find out why someone is following me doing this.\"\n\n\"So you're aware someone is doing this to you on purpose?\" Jacket responded.\n\n\"No, I just assumed, I mean there are over a dozen girls missing, and all of my girlfriends are missing, excluding Diane, and I only broke up with her two months ago\"\n\n\"They aren't all missing.\" Jacket said, dropping a folder on the table. I picked it up and opened it. It was Jackie. Jackie, my first girlfriend. We dated for a year back in eight grade, but broke up shortly after we started really dating, aka the moment we went from saying we were dating and hanging out all the time to actually holding hands, having our first kiss, and going to second base. She actually lived near me, only a mile and a half away. There was a picture of her. \"I don't recognize her now, but are you saying it is her?\"\n\n\"No, you're saying that. We are trying to find out why she was exempt. Do you have any idea?\" Jacket asked.\n\n\"Not really. I didn't even look her up because it was so long ago and while we said we dated for a year, we only really dated for like a week and a half. It hardly counted. Wait, how did you find out about her?\"\n\n\"We've been digging through your entire life for most of the day. It wasn't hard to find someone you dated for almost a year, even if it was only really dating for a week as you claim. So no idea why she is the only one spared. Who broke up the relationship?\"\n\n\"I did. Ashley Ferguson offered to let me touch her over her pants if I dated her, and honestly dating Jackie for real was a little weird. We had grown up best friends.\" The more I thought about it, the more I was begning to think it was Jackie.\n\n\"Ashley Ferguson, she was the first victim. How would you classify....\" a knock on the door interrupted. \"Excuse me a moment.\" Jacket stood up and slipped outside. Moustache stared at me while drumming his fingers on the table. Time seemed to pass agonizingly slow. Finally, after what seemed like eternity, Jacket walked in. \"We have preliminary results on the DNA back, you're going to want to here this outside.\" As the door closed behind the two, I heard them say \"Not her, in fact, it revealed that...\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: While wandering around the woods one day, you accidentally drop your cell phone down a rabbit hole. Reaching in, instead of your phone, you lift out a stack of hundred dollar bills. It seems that the hole will exchange anything dropped in it with something random of similar size and weight." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "People spend most of their lives dreaming about magic. They create worlds in their heads where the impossible is possible, where a mystical force operates outside of the laws we know. Does things we can’t explain. What they don’t understand is finding magic, real magic, in the real world isn’t romantic at all. Just like everything else, it changes from novel to mundane. It’s a new toy that loses its appeal as others appear for the playing. And just like everything else, the real magic you find in the real world can do bad just as often as it does good. Only the bad it does is much, much worse.\n\nIt feels like a lifetime ago. I crunched “data” at a mid-sized software company called Byte Works, which amounted to checking one row of numbers against another. Highlighting discrepancies. Printing it out for my boss. The work was pure drudgery, but the pay was decent and benefits were fantastic. Before I’d finished out two years I had a healthy 401k and almost three weeks of vacation time saved up. Didn’t know how I would use it, not having a family, but having it was nice. Like rare coins you won’t spend.\n\nByte Works connected to a larger campus of office buildings, all situated in the wooded areas along the outskirts of Memphis, Tennessee. Throughout the campus sidewalks ran like veins, leading to little park areas with goldfish ponds and expensive benches. Eventually I roamed further from the campus. A man’s quest for solitude is endless, since any secluded spot can be ruined by just one trespasser. I took to walking through the woods themselves, just listening to the birds and the wind, not thinking at all.\n\nOne day I dropped my cell phone. When I bent to retrieve it, it wasn’t there. What I found was a perfectly dark hole, about as big around as a bowling ball. Fearing snakes, but fearing an AT&T bill more, I reached into the hole and felt around for my device. I grasped at a rectangular object and brought it out. It was a bundle of twenty dollar bills, wrapped with that labeled paper that banks use. Six hundred and forty dollars. About the cost of my phone. I stuck my hand back into the hole, felt around for a good, long while, but it yielded nothing else that day.\n\nIn the months that followed, I returned to the hole often. At first it was great fun to just see what it would return when I fed it different items. I dropped in a red, swingline stapler and received a shiny postcard from Maine. I fed the hole a compute mouse and got back an old, Australian stamp, protected in a laminated square of plastic. Always I would return to my desk, search for the new item’s price on ebay and find an approximate match to what I had put in. But office supplies were getting boring. I was just beginning to toy with the idea of dropping jewelry down the hole, when everything changed.\n\nI had taken a set of earrings from one of my co-workers desks. I had gone into her cubicle to find a report, but instead I found the diamonds, and without thinking I snatched them. When I dropped them into the hole they would be gone forever, the theft completely untraceable. I did something first though. On a whim, really. I hefted a nearby stick, the kind heavy enough to put at the bottom of a campfire, and threw it into the hole. It was rotten and broke apart even as I tossed it. I had never tried something completely worthless before. I had never tried garbage. When I reached into the hole, horror the likes of which I had never felt gripped me by the throat. Because what I felt inside that hole was a tiny arm. A tiny hand, with tiny fingers grasping at mine. From a hole in the ground in the backwoods of Memphis Tennessee, I pulled out a human child.\n\nI had to take it home. Leaving the child in the woods was only a fleeting thought, never seriously considered, just a guilty indulgence of a desperate mind. But sometimes I still wish I had. After the initial shock of it, after frantic internet research about baby care and hurriedly acquiring all of the things babies need to survive, I began to reflect on it. Was human life worthless? Were we so overpopulated that each new person was only worth a rotting piece of wood? Or was this particular human baby worthless? Was there something about this child that reduced his value? Was the hole measuring his value to society?\n\nOver the next ten years, the first decade of this magical child’s life, I got my answer. As soon as he could crawl, he was looking for things to break. Things to hurt. When he could stand and walk the trouble quadrupled, and the bigger and stronger he got the more he tested my rules, crossed whatever boundaries I set down. Schools searched for reasons to expel him permanently, so he could be someone else’s problem, and eventually I had to enroll him in a special school for mentally troubled children. I had to withdraw some of my 401k early. There was a penalty, of course, ten percent. It hurt.\n\nThe next decade of his life was even worse. Alcohol, drugs, petty crime, stealing from me every chance he got and staying out of the house for days at a time. He dropped out of school and ran away from home at 15 years old, and god help me I was happy. I was so happy. That was five years ago. I still hear from him every now and again, asking for bail money or a place to sleep for a few nights. Sometimes I give in, sometimes I don’t. When I do I regret it. But like it or not, I am responsible for bringing this human being into this world. This magical, inexplicable human being, traded to the universe for a rotted out piece of wood.\n\nI haven’t been back to hole. When Bart was still in elementary school I lost my job at Byte Works, too many days missed to deal with his behavior problems at school. To stay home with him when he was suspended. I work for an insurance company now, and it’s fine. Sometimes I think of going back, returning to that tiny magical void in the woods, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid of what that magic will give back to me. I’m afraid of using something I don’t understand.\n\nI may the only person alive who can say this. I found real magic. I found it right here in the real world.\n\nAnd I wish I hadn’t." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1400-1500 words. Prompt: You have ended up giving your name to a fae, after doing so however, the fae frowns." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The warm sunrays of an August afternoon broke through the lush crown of the forest. The thick vegetation made it hard to stay on the correct path even for experienced hikers such as Marc himself.\n\nIt was his first time in this part of the forest and he had to say it was a wonderful one. The flowers spreading in the distant clearings, the with moss overgrown roots of mighty trees. Everything looked as if nature had not been touched in ages. The rustle of trees was a soothing melody for ones soul and the sweet smell which only a very old forest could produce was just out of this world.\n\nMarc was happy he chose to take this route today as a soft breeze of fresh air grabbed his hair and played with it. A welcome breeze while traversing the deeper woods which usually did not got this far down in this packed kind of forests.\n\nFascinated by the rich species on his route, Marc wandered deeper and deeper into the woods.\n\nThe sounds of birds and small animals reached his ears and a far off river could be heard and since Marc still felt fresh he decided to keep going, wanting to reach the river to take some pictures to show his girlfriend at home.\n\nHis mood got even better thinking about showing her the beauties of his endeavor and his pace fastened a little as he left the path and wandered towards where he expected the river to be.\n\nMarc went even deeper into the forest while whistling a his girlfriends favorite song. He kept moving forward leaving golden and white flowers he never saw before behind. Trees so thick he could not believe they would grow inside of this forest. Mushrooms so big and deformed it got him curious how they were called. Every new and interesting thing he documented on pictures on his phone, not bothering how much time went by or that he did not have a signal anymore.\n\nAfter hours of wandering around that felt like mere seconds to him he noticed a flickering blue light on his right.\n\nThen a second one popped up behind it.\n\nAnd a third.\n\nThese lights began which lit up a path gave of an eerily feeling. Marc felt it deep inside his soul, something was not right.\n\nHe turned around but the path he took was gone. Too deep had he wandered off for God knows how long. Marc took his phone out with trembling fingers to realize it had been hours since he started wandering this forest. Shaking he opened his map on his phone to realize he had no signal. He was lost.\n\nDespair slowly crawled up his back making him shiver in anxiety. It was then he realized what was wrong. The forest he went into was not that big, just a small one. He should have come out of it a long time ago. And there was something else.\n\nThe animals and forest itself made no sound. A deafening silence pressed down onto Marc and he became even more scared.\n\nTurning around he saw the blue lights getting brighter as the day gave way to the moon. Whatever these lights were, wherever they lead to, it might be Marcs only chance of survival.\n\nGathering all his courage he started to walk towards the lights and whenever he reached one, it vanished with an almost not noticeable sizzle and came into existence further down the path. Leading him further and further.\n\nMarc had long forgotten to take pictures of the unusual vegetation for his girlfriend to enjoy, he was only trying to move along the lights, hoping it would lead him somewhere. He kept moving, but the lights moved faster and faster, forcing him to start running. Slowly but surely he run out of breath and stumbled over a fallen down tree. The lights kept moving away from him and when Marc regained his footing they had vanished out of sight.\n\nThe still silent forest scared him. Looking around he saw nothing but shadows and trees. But he knew he had to look for somewhere protected to sleep, so he started to slowly survey his surroundings.\n\nA fallen down tree seemed to be able to provide enough protection for this night, as it had fallen over a rock in a way that would keep the cold winds of the night away. Having decided that this tree would be his nightly quarter he crawled underneath it, hoping to catch at least a few hours of sleep to make it out of these wood in the morning.\n\nAnd after a while he managed to fall asleep, he dreamed of his girlfriend at home, How she wast scared at home that he did not came back tonight. How she thought the worst had happened and had gone crazy of sorrow.\n\nBathed in clod sweat Marc woke up , raising his body from the ground. He needed to get out of this forest. He just did not know how. It was then when he saw the green light flying towards him.\n\nFascinated he watched how it descended from the trees, circling them till it almost touched the ground, then rising again as it moved towards him.\n\nA light flutter of wings could be heard as the light inched closer and closer.\n\nMarc could not believe his eyes as he saw a tiny glowing human levitating in the air in front of him. He rubbed his eyes, than lightly pinched his cheek. He was sure he was still dreaming. How else could he explain seeing what could only be a fairy in front of him.\n\n“Welcom in Ter’a nug wanderer. May I have your name?”, the small creature asked him to his surprise.\n\n“What are you? Where am I? Am I still sleeping?”, asked the astonished Marc the glowing thing in front of him.\n\n“I am truly sorry, dear wanderer, I can only answer your questions if I have gotten your true name.”, the fairy insisted as she gave him an odd smile.\n\n“You can help me out of this forest? What was it called? Tir ra muc?”, he kept asking confused.\n\n“I can help you, if I may have your name, dear guest”, she answered getting more and more irritated by the human who did not belong in this part of the forest.\n\n“Oh, okay. My name is Marc, Marc Miller. Pleasure meeting you,. And you, whoever or whatever you may be, can help my out of here?”, Marc questioned the creature with hope all over his voice.\n\n“Oh humaan. You stupid, stupid human. Now that I have your name you are mine. I, Exaltra, now owns your very being. If I say you jump, you will jump. If I order you to lay down, you will lay down. You are now mine Marc Miller, forever and ever till the end of time. And now I order you to remain silent!”, fairy ordered Marc.\n\nThe ones cute and adorable looking face of the fairy twisted into a grimace filled with sharp teeth and spit falling out of it. Her glowing wings, before as delicate as of a butterfly, now full of holes and ripped apart. Her whole demeanor changed and started do frighten Marc even moor than he already was. Stumbling backwards, he fell onto the floor, desperately trying to increase the gap between the two.\n\n“Do not be afraid Marc Miller, I will take good care of you. I love myself some tasty , juicy human meat.”, the grotesque creature slowly pressed out of its lips.\n\n“No! I want to live! HELP”\n\n“How can that be, I HAVE YOUR NAME!”, the fairy screamed in a high pitched voice.\n\n“How could I have been tricked by a human. How could I-”\n\nThe fairy did not manage to continue as the very own order she gave with the old long forgotten magic of ones true name backfired onto herself.\n\nIn her seemingly triumph she gave Marc her own true name, now bound to fulfill the desire of him, to lead him outside of the forest. Unharmed and in silence. Any minute she failed to do so weakening her magic, causing her unimaginable pain.\n\nStill wondering how it was possible that the human had tricked her, she snapped with her finger. The forest began to move and opened up a path for Marc. A path lit to both side with white lights.\n\nAnd Marc Miller formerly known as Maria Miller ran never to be seen in a forest again." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You live in a world where everyone is infertile. To have a baby, you need to apply to the government for medication which makes you fertile. You are the result of illegal fertility and in result have different characteristics. The public now knows." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sarah is sitting at the dining table, filling in blue boxes in black pen and murmuring under her breath whenever the questions get difficult.\n\n\"Fuckers, I have to provide the last three years' income? That's ridiculous...\"\n\n\"Coffee?\" Her head jerks up as I approach, mug offered, and a slow smile spreads across her face.\n\n\"Yes. This form,\" she waves her hands hopelessly at the page. \"Is ridiculous.\"\n\n\"You're welcome. And I could hear you. What else are they asking?\" I peer over at the page. The Fertility Form, or its official name - X/X/Y Form 3a, is commonly known as a beast to fill in. If you get through that stage, and manage to cut through the layers of bureaucratic red tape to get your form accepted by the correct office, then you have to wait at least three years to find out if your proposal has been accepted, and if you're going to be able to have a child. I've never seen one before.\n\nI clasp her hand, the one that isn't holding the coffee and she starts for a moment, before remembering that it's the way I show affection. She awkwardly pats the back of my fingers and smiles again, a little lopsided on one side of her face.\n\n\"You've got to stop doing that,\" she says sadly. \"You never know who's watching.\"\n\n\"In our kitchen?\"\n\n\"All the same. They see compassion and they'll know. Wait till we get accepted.\" Hands wave at the form again.\n\n\"If we get accepted.\" I say it without thinking. Sarah's eyes flick to the TV screen on the kitchen counter. The President Royal stands atop a black stage, arm curled protectively around his son. The child is a blue-eyed, curly haired wonder. A hand snatches at my heart as I consider being able to hold my own son like that, hands around his small frame.\n\n\"Turn it off.\" Sarah snaps. \"I don't like seeing them.\"\n\n\"Children?\"\n\n\"Parents.\"\n\nThe next week I'm out, lugging carrier bags back home, both hands red from the effort. Cars idle past slowly. It's a quiet road, here. A ball rolls past my feet and into the road. A child follows it, hair flowing in the breeze, laughing out loud. Before I really consider it I drop everything, throwing myself at the child. Horns sound and I have my arms around him, back curled, braced against the impact. Brakes squeal and I look up slowly, three-year old still clasped to my chest. He's crying, but his ball is in his hands and he's safe.\n\nBut there is no loud exclaim of thanks, no slaps on the back, nothing. The gathered crowd begin to look at me shiftily.\n\n\"Mother! He was kind! He-\"\n\nThe child is cut off. His mother has both hands like pincers clutching onto his little dungareed shoulders.\n\n\"You need to go,\" she hisses at me, like a territorial cat. \"You're a cheat. Think of what we had to go through.\"\n\nSarah knows there's something wrong as soon as I come in.\n\n\"Will... What have you done?\"\n\nI'm throwing clothes into a bag, unable to see through the swimming veil of tears in front of my eyes. Sarah hovers at my elbow, knowing if the situations were reversed I would touch her right now. She's lacking the ability to know what is right, to empathise with how I feel. She makes the same faces I do, but there's no compassion.\n\nNothing.\n\nI have to leave." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: Your hesitant to go into you first high school party. Then out of nowhere an old man appears. He looks you right in the eyes, shakes his head , and says “ don’t do it , don’t go in. Go Home.”" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Mary Odail was sweating bullets, and her first high school party was the cause.\n\n‘There are so many kids here tonight’ she thought, swivelling her eyes side to side at the litter of teenagers scattered all across the room.\n\n“I can’t do this,” Mary mumbled, feeling a round of hyperventilating rising within her.\n\n“I’ll make a fool of myself.”\n\n“Then don’t go in,” said an unknown voice coming from behind her.\n\n“What the hell,” Mary exclaimed, spinning around on the spot and coming upon the sight of an old man leaning against the side of the front door.\n\nHe had a steel walking cane, and a small head of dark grey hair.\n\n“In fact, I recommend you don’t go in. Just go home girl, you won’t regret it.”\n\n“Yea, Erm thanks for the excuse Mister. But my Mom said I need to make friends, so... yea.”\n\n“You do whatever you want.” The old man shook his head and propped himself back onto his feet and the walking cane. “But I guarantee you’re gonna regret going in if you do.”\n\nAnd just like that, he staggered around a corner and was gone.\n\n“HASTAG Weird,” Mary murmured, taking one last look at the front door to her school and raising her shoulders in a shrug.\n\n“That’s it! I’m not going.” Mary hesitantly turned in the opposite direction of the man and began to head back home.\n\nThe Next Day...\n\nMary woke up that morning with a pounding headache and a agitating itch in her left eye.\n\n“Uggghhh, why me,” she groaned.\n\nMary had been up all night arguing with her furious mother, who hadn’t been very happy with her walking away from the party.\n\n“Had to keep me up till two in the morning.”\n\nThe young teen slipped out from under the covers and brushed her hand through her thick mop of tangled hair. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes before springing upward and making her way toward the bathroom to get washed and dressed...\n\n“Mary?! MARY?! Come down quick!” It was her mother, Delia screaming from the top of her lungs in the downstairs kitchen.\n\n“Ugh what now,” said Mary, practically hopping down the stairs and emerging into the kitchen within a matter of seconds.\n\n“I gotta go to school.”\n\n“You’re not going to school today,” Delia said, wearing an expression of terror and worry.\n\n“What is it Mom?” Mary asked, her face dropping into a look concern.\n\nDelia said nothing, keeping her eyes bored into her daughter as she simply beckoned toward the TV.\n\nIt took Mary a few moments to register the headline displayed on the screen, but once she did. The Young teen found a gasp of horror escaping her lips.\n\nMASS SHOOTING IN DEVINSLVILLE SCHOOL AT HIGH SCHOOL PARTY...\n\nMary had been horror struck at first to watch that miserable news report. Ten kids had been killed, with twenty other ending up gravely injured.\n\nBut after pondering over that for a few days, she soon found herself thinking about something entirely different.\n\nThat old man she had seen, how did he know. Or at least how did he know something bad was going to happen.\n\nHowever, Mary would soon find a satisfying, but very confusing answer to her question three days later whilst strolling down her neighborhood shopping street a few blocks from her house.\n\n“Hey sir! SIR IT’S ME AGAIN,” Mary shouted, beaming as she passed the same old man on the other side of the street.\n\n“Ahh it’s you again, very glad you listened to me the other night. Very glad indeed.”\n\n“I’ll let you go,” Mary panted. “But I just have one question, how did you know and why did you choose me out of all of the other people you could have chosen.”\n\n“That’s simple,” said the Old man, a smirk spreading itself across his cheeks. “I already knew it was going to happen, and a father will do everything he can for his daughter. No matter the cost.”\n\n“I’m sorry, did you just say daughter.”\n\n“I’m not going to answer that,” the old man replied. “Because where’s the fun in asking a question, when it’s probably much more interesting to find the answer yourself.”\n\nThen the Man disappeared, fading from sight as if he was never there.\n\nMary never forgot that week, some of it was bad, and some aspects were good. After all, she did manage to survive a deadly shootout.\n\nAnd yet that peculiar quote was imprinted into her mind forever. Though it did confuse her at times, she always took its advice.\n\nThe only thing bothering her being the one question that she would never be able to answer.\n\n“Was he my Dad? And if so how.”\n\nHello guys, thanks for reading and sorry for the writing quality, I did do it rather quickly and I’m not very good at it yet. I’m an aspiring writer and hope to publish a fantasy series I’ve come up with one day. But for now I’m still practising.\n\nAnyways if you liked it, tell me what you think in the comments and have a great day 😉" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: It's the final battle against the Perfect Evil. Every god is here, practically every superhero ever, a bunch of random action heroes, and you, for... whatever reason. Why are you even here?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There he was, in all his glory. Rippling muscles, astounding facial hair, a great costume. The biggest superhero in all of existence…..Manly-Man. And next to him 100’s of other famous and popular heros…like womanly-woman, karate-kid, and amazing-adult. All great hero’s each one unique in there own ways. Facing off against the greatest evil to ever evil, the perfect evil- or as his sir name goes “Mr. mean”. A devious spot of life only living to ruin life itself, as i said. Pure evil.\n\nHowever in the midst of all this, i was swept into the crowd of heros and got pushed all the way into the final confrontation. I do insurance, i work at state-farm. I’m not suppose to be here, yet for some reason i felt the need to speak up\n\n“You….Mr. Mean, your rein of evilness has to come to end! You cant get away this, me Manly-Man and all other heroes of the world will stop you and theres nothing you c-“ cut off, Manly-Man was astounded, his eye-brows came down as his draw dropped. A scrawny man with glasses and a balding hair cut stepped up pushing him aside as he made his way through the crowd, Womanly-Woman was also, equally as confounded\n\n“Hold on. For a second” waving his hands, he piped up trying to get a view of the perfect evil as he was about to, as all villains fall ail of. Lay out his genuis, unstoppable plan to everyone- all flaws included.\n\n“I’m sorry. But who do you think you are. I’ll have you know the amount of public damage you caused, off the charts! I will be contacting the police about this.” The superheroes just stood. Almost annoyingly shocked at how this, seemingly nobody decided to let the perfect evil know his mind.\n\n“Thats not all, MULTIPLE federal offences, a public nuisance to civilians- including me. Attempted murder, and hundreds of calls of damage control, even over the past few days, unbelievable! Let me tell you, you sir. Are a big, big, loser.” The whole croud gasped in shock. Such words, he’s letting him have it. Mr. Mean on the other hand, is standing there- perfectly dumb founded at what’s happening\n\n“You know what” he said, as he began putting numbers into his phone “i’m going to sue you. Yeahhhh thats right, all high and mighty. Lets see how you handle COURT! Oh ho ho, thats right. I’m sueing you for all the things, murder, kidnapping EVERYTHING HAHA” the phone started ringing, as he had the most smug face of all time, slapped together with a nice smile like a bow “and with my good lawyers, which I HAVE, you wont stand a chance. The police are on there way right NOW” sirens could be heard in the distance, as all the heroes started to mumble and murmer, gossiping about whats happening\n\nThe police arrived, the whole force. Of multiple nations and countries have showed up on the scene. Even the news was here for the show down, getting the camera right up in Manly-Mans face asking him questions, all he could do was point to the insurance man.\n\nGetting of their cars the police were on top performance, not hesititating for even a second\n\n“Oi oi oi, whats all this on about? Stop with all this dilly dally, cant have this!” They said as the swiftly grabbed Mr. Means hands in cuffs\n\n“Oh you’re goin straight to the tower of london for this mate. Enough with this squabble” remarked the police, The perfect evil, once again in his auro of evilness. Tried and ached for the write words, as he was left speechless from all this, he would say something. But anything he says can and will be used against him in form of court, so after seconds of squealing he churned out one sound “w h a t.” He was crammed into the police car, as insurance guy had the widest grin on his waving him bye mouthing “SEE YOU IN COURT!”\n\nManly-Man and the others, not knowing what to do next. Just turned around and went home" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You place a flower in the war memorial and light a candle. Someone does the same next to you. After a moment of silence, you both realize you were on opposite sides." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was with a heavy heart I went back. Each step a memory of what it meant to be both the taker and savior. A walking ballista that could be scorched from this each as much as it gave. The memories of those who were there. The ones that took the burden of reality off your shoulders to make it through the day, only to be gone the next.\n\nAnd the chilling reality that I was the one who made it not them.\n\nSometimes we don’t go back out of the fear of facing the life we once lead, and part out of respect to move on as a promise. To live a life that they never got to. It would be unfair to live lamenting a past that couldn’t be undone.\n\nI lived a good life till now. I still have more, but at this time I can accept to face a reality of pain with a subtle notion that I have given some form of respect to stand on. The victory we had, though not that day, was not enough. The victory to overcome this grief in life was far superior.\n\nSo I returned. A memory of a step that has long been buried by the seasons. The air felt pale in reverence. Only the occasional gust brought back the memory of the cruel weather we felt there. The field now recovered by some means. Where there was once a endless stretch of trenches of various stages of advance and retreat, was now a calm field with lives being lived in peace. Where the wire, sandbags and iron had been placed, now memorials and benches. A endless cacophony of screams seemed to only fall on my ears alone.\n\nUntil I noticed the somber man who had placed his flowers next to mine.\n\nI turned to meet his eyes and upon feeling the shift in my nature he responded in kind. We studied each other, and though we had never met, it was clear we were from different sides of this fiend of an occasion.\n\nThere was no hostility in his eyes, nor in mine. That hostility was on that field, but even then it seemed forced. You’re fed an image of what the enemy is, and at times that image is near precise to the detail, but that is not all. Many are the passing faces of people who have been set to carry out a broader picture. A numbered face of someone with a life of their own who joined under similar or understandable reasons to you. Your very reflection of self and companion that had just been born to the other side.\n\nWe sat in the silence of revelation for a moment that flooded these ideals to a standstill. It was only broken when he offered his hand. To face value, this precisely dressed man, fitted in a long coat draped over a rustic set of long woolen shirt and trousers shaking hands with a foreigner who had a simple jacket over his t-shirt and under-alls with simple jeans and worn boots was a clash of worlds, but to those who knew, it was the final fulfillment of the peace the war meant to bring. The final treaty.\n\nI pointed to a small cafe that overlooked the area and he nodded in agreement. We sat in silence and reminisced what was lost to us. I showed him pictures of my friends and family and he in kind showed his. Not out of spite, but in the hopes to recapture more of the humanity that was lost to us in the image this field made us see.\n\nI got up to leave, and felt a tug on my jacket. I looked over to see the stoic man reduced to eyes sodden with grief. From lips that trained in anticipation, he muttered, “Please forgive.” I released my arm and placed my hand to his shoulder “Um verzeihung bitten.”\n\nThe day ended with me having a nice dinner with his family back at home. The occasional phrase or two being exchanged from soldiers who understood.\n\nOnce an enemy\n\nTomorrow eases pain away\n\nNow just memory" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: There is a website called thispersondoesnotexist.com (real website). Using machine learning, it produces extremely life-like pictures of people who don’t actually exist. One day, out of boredom, you’re clicking through this website and it produces a picture of your mother." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was day 147 of quarantine and I genuinely thought that I was starting to go crazy. In a totally subconscious attempt to put off writing, I had gotten several hours deep into whatever rabbit hole online I’d found myself in this time. When I came across thispersondoesnotexist.com, I got the genius idea to have the system generate a human that I could analyze and create a story for. I decided to refresh the page and write about the next human to come up.\n\nAnd so, I refreshed the page and was presented with an image of a man that appeared to be in his late 30's. He kind of reminded me of a grown up version of the kid that lived next door to my best friend in high school. I’d not seen the kid in 15 years but I heard he got into some sort of trouble with the government or something. After distracting myself for half an hour on Facebook doing “research” on the missing friend’s neighbor kid, I decided that this false character felt a bit too real for me to write about. And so, I refreshed the page again.\n\nThe next new face to grace my screen was that of a child. I froze for a moment in a state of utter confusion as I stared at the image. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what it was about this picture that seemed so worth examination, and yet, I persisted. For nearly 10 minutes, my eyes didn’t leave the screen as I attempted to figure out the answer while not even knowing what question to ask; and then it happened.\n\nThe realization came with a jolt and was clear as if I’d always known. This was my mother as a child, I was certain of it. I’d seen this very picture before — the image was not as crisp as this and the background was different, but I was very familiar with this picture of my mother as a child.\n\nWhat the hell is going on? I took a screenshot of the image, opened a new tab, and went back to the site. The image that came up shook me to my core. It was of a person that I worked with at TJ Maxx in college, Travis Olsen. I’d not seen or heard from him since then, and we weren’t particularly close, but I did remember exchanging contact information at some point. I searched through my phone and called “Travis TJ Maxx,” only to find that the number was not in use. An extensive search through Facebook and Instagram yielded no results at all.\n\nI was utterly perplexed and I dared not refresh the page again. “Think, think! There’s obviously a logical answer for all of this,” I reassured myself. I decided to call my roommate from college, he was all about keeping up with people and would surely know the whereabouts of Travis TJ Maxx.\n\n“I think you’re going crazy man.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing from my old college roommate. He worked with me and had to have known Travis. “I don’t know bud, I don’t think this guy exists. Isn’t that the point of the site anyway?”\n\nHe did have a point, but there had to be an answer. “Okay, there is something I haven’t told you,” I started in on an attempt to better illustrate the situation. “This isn’t the only familiar face I’ve seen on this site. I saw…” My voice trailed off as I thought about how ridiculous my next words would sound. “I saw an image of my mother on this site.” His response was not one of disbelief as I’d expected, but rather a faint sigh of pity.\n\n“I know it sounds crazy, but look,” I sent him the screenshot of the image of my mother as a child. He sighed again, but this time it was louder and more pronounced so that I could hear it clearly.\n\n“Well, what do you think?” I asked impatiently.\n\n“I think we need to get you some help buddy,” was his response. “This is a picture of a kid.”\n\n“Yes, I know it’s a kid. It’s my mother as a child. I’ve seen this exact picture before! And the other two people that came up are real too, I’ve seen them before, I swear! Look, I can show you,” he cut me off.\n\n“Stop! ,” started my friend. “I know that whole virus thing was crazy but we’ve got to get you back out into the world man.”\n\n“What do you mean? We can’t leave our homes,” I responded in confusion.\n\n“Wow, this is worse than I thought,” he said after a brief pause. “That was months ago buddy, things have returned to normal for the rest of us.”\n\nThis didn’t make any sense. “But my mother!”\n\n“You were adopted!” yelled my friend out of frustration. “You’ve never seen your mother.”\n\nA long, uncomfortable silence filled the air of the call as I tried to figure out what was going on to no avail.\n\n“Yeah, maybe you’re right. I think it’s time I left the house.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: A government secret formula that gives people powers has been leaked to the puplic. A chain reaction occurs leading to a post apocalypse where superpowered overlords are ruling whats left of earth. Unbeknownst to us a Alien warship is arriving to earth and they have no idea the powers we have." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Knight Longshot had a rough morning; unnamed scouts to the south had been pestering the border walls since dawn, and chasing them off had been exhausting. Running on fumes in the early afternoon was dangerous. The last thing he needed was a squire stepping up and deciding that today was the day for a premotion.\n\nThen there had been a summons from Steward Overseer, something that apparently demanded immediate attention.\n\nLongshot climbed his way to the third floor of the natural history museum, the closest thing Ottawa had to a castle and nodded to the two knights, Bombard and Defender, who were on Guard duty this afternoon.\n\n\"Any idea what the kid is talking about?\" Longshot asked. Defender and Bombard were two of the older citizens with powers strong enough to be considered 'Knights'; luckily, that meant they were almost as over the cosplay as Longshot was.\n\n\"No,\" Defender said, \"Ranger Smoke went in there an hour ago, and we haven't seen anyone in or out since.\"\n\n\"If it's about the river, I at least get to tell him the bridge is under control,\" Longshot sighed and pushed open the double doors, striding into the room.\n\nSteward Overseer might have been a 'kid,' but he was a mammoth of a 16-year-old, six inches and a hundred pounds larger than Longshot, with a solidly college-level beard. \"Longshot,\" he greeted, his voice a little too high for his political position.\n\n\"My Lord,\" Longshot greeted and laid the five tungsten rods he carried as weapons on the ground as a sign of surrender. Not that they would have done any good against Overseer anyways, he had been lucky enough to be 13 when he was injected with the compound and even more fortunate in that he'd survived it.\n\n\"News from the Border,\" Overseer started.\n\n\"Well-\"\n\n\"That wasn't a question, Knight,\" Overseer corrected before turning to face Longshot, \"The rangers have spotted several large flying vessels in the air-\" Overseer took a deep breath. \"Look, we spotted something flying, and we don't know what it is.\"\n\n\"Do you think I'd know, sir?\"\n\n\"Your range augmented 'Dash' power is the closest thing we have to flight in our Kingdom,\" Overseer said, snapping back into proper form.\n\n\"Permission to rise?\" Longshot asked. None of the 23 known powers that someone could get from the compound allowed for flight, thank god, but that meant that there were questions about what Ranger Smoke had seen on the border.\n\nAs if on queue, smoke billowed into the room as the Ranger returned and reformed. \"They're over the border and approaching fast!\" he yelled, still half incorporeal.\n\n\"Knight! Knock it out of the sky!\" Steward Overseer ordered, and Longshot snatched up his rods. It had to be today? It had to be when he was already prepared for a long nap. Longshot burst out of the throne room and called for the other two Knights to join him on the terrace.\n\nOnce they were on the terrace, the three knights stared up at the silver mass above them, slowly rotating and hovering in one place. There was a crackle, and then something like a loudspeaker called out.\n\n\"Earthlings, your lead bullets are no match for our-\"\n\n\"Did he just say, Earthlings?\" Knight Bombard asked, \"Now I like the kingdom aesthetic we have going.\"\n\n\"We repeat, your lead bullets are no match for our-\"\n\nLongshot nodded, only one thing to do then. The wars had gotten weird once kids were in charge. \"HAVE AT THEE!\" Longshot yelled, tossing one of his rods into the air. It hung for a second, and then Longshot's essence twisted around the rod and supercharged it.\n\n\"Your puny weapons-\"\n\nCRACK\n\nThe tungsten rod shattered the sound barrier as Longshot fired it. He could focus the dash power outside of himself and launch objects at terrible speeds, and tungsten was used in railguns for a reason.\n\nA glowing red hole was in the middle of the craft by the time Knight Longshot had pulled out the other rods.\n\nIn the craft, they left the loudspeaker on, and as the green essence wrapped around the projectiles, all the Knights heard was, \"ABORT, ABORT!\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: A story where one of the main characters doesn't die in a selfless sacrifice or by the evil villain, but in a normal battle due to a simple mistake." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lazarus' sword, already drowned in blood and sweat, was still being held onto, despite the obvious signals of breaking soon. It meant too much to him, and Death knew, that it'd be the only weak link in his defense. As the saying goes, offense is the best defense, which meant that neutralising one would mean removing the other as a result. But Death didn't want to rush it's obvious win yet: he had time. He wanted to appreciate the moment when he finally knew, he'd punish this rebel who had defied him.\n\n\"Thou shall not escape me this time, Lazarus. All must meet me in the end and even though thee managed to prolong yours, all roads eventually lead to me and yours is nearing the end\" said Death, enjoying every word of this short monologue, it's dead eyes staring into it's nemesis.\n\nEven though there were no actual eyes, Lazarus could feel the stare through the black cloak that covered Death's face - a face of broken lives, scattered hope, extinguished fire of the living, feeding Death's lust.\n\n\"You are merely a shadow of what you once had been, Death. If I could defy thou once, I shall do it again. And what's to say that no man shall follow me?\" Lazarus replied, tightening his grip around the sword handle, preparing for  the last encounter with the being whom he had escaped once.\n\nHe had encountered Death before and his previous victory gave him hope of achieving what he had once done again - defying the human nature, refusing to give into Death's wishes like everyone else. He wanted to prove that he could lead humanity and defeat it's one constant threat.\n\n\"A single occurance like you happens once every once in eternity; thou are not unique, neither special and you will greet me like the rest\" taunted Death in a sure manner.\n\nIt lied as no one had previously evaded it's grasp but it knew how demoralising it was for Lazarus to hear these words. It wanted to taunt him into attacking for it would be a suicidal charge.\n\nDeath's taunt worked perfectly how it was supposed to. With a loud battle roar, Lazarus charged at death with full force. Death prepared it's scythe and deflected the first attack, quickly counterattacking with a side swing. Lazarus wasn't slow either though: he managed to jump out of the way before the would-be-deadly strike touched him. Suddenly, his leg lost balance, and Lazarus realised, he had slipped on a banana peel. He lost control of his battle stance and fell on the ground. The force was so strong, that his hands, once in a tight grip, had let go of his sword, which flew away, far from his reach, the agonising sounds of metal hitting the rocks echoed from the walls of the cave.\n\n\"I guess it is the end then.\" agreed Lazarus, now humble, as he realised he was defeated. \"Lets end it, then.\"\n\nDeath flew closer, it's eyes now fixed on his throat, burning with rage and madness yet triumphant and, in a very corrupt way, happy. It readied it's scythe for one last swing as he knew he had the final word.\n\n\"As i said, Lazarus. Once in eternity.\"\n\nWrote this on a phone at school pls no be angry, wanted to give a try at this :D" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You are a seer who can see people's past lives by touching them. All of their past lives. From birth till death." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It all started when I turned 23. I was walking down the hallway to go on my lunch break and tripped on the carpet. In my less than graceful tumble, I fell directly into the chest of She-Woman. Hmm, guess I should back up and explain that one. This woman scared me. Six foot tall, 250 pounds of pure muscle. No one really knew much about her. She was quiet and always looked angry. So in the quiet recesses of dark cubicles, the legend of She-woman was born. Oh right, the trip. The last thing I remember before I tripped was seeing the chest of She-Woman. Can you guess where my head fell? Not my best moment. But then the craziest thing happened. Bright colors, flashing faces, many voices coming together to make a cacophony of sound. Next thing I know I'm awake in a hospital bed and really really hating Mondays.\n\nFast forward a few years, couple of mental hospitals, and some very very poor marital choices and I'm finally starting to understand this curse. Gift? Eh, most days curse. Somehow, some cosmic asshole gave me the ability to see the previous lives of people that I come in contact with. Unfortunately the only way I've found to prevent this is to wear gloves constantly like some Michael Jackson wannabe. It took years to get it under control. I used to pass out after that much information hitting me smack-dab in the cranium. I finally found a way to practice without looking like an idiot. I took a job as a live in caretaker to elderly folks with dementia. They have no clue what I'm doing, which works, because neither do I. After I was able to see the flashes without passing out I started to try to figure out what they were. With some time I started being able to somewhat slow it down a bit. I saw moments in time that just seemed like someone hit fast forward. Baby born in 20 seconds. Vacation to Paris in 10 minutes. War...war always felt longer. Traumatic things always seemed to slow down. Like they wanted you to see it. I have my theories as to why.\n\nForward a few more years, I stopped looking for awhile. The things you see kinda stick with you ya know? Saw a ladies great granddaughter one day. Really looked like the idiot for a minute. I yelled out her name before I realized there was no way in hell she'd know who I was. I tried to cover my tracks but she called me on my crap. We talked for a few minutes, then I decided to ask her to dinner. I don't know why I did, but I did. Craziest thing happened though, she said yes. We ended up getting married, having a kid. You'd know that part though. That's when I got the surprise of my life. I held the baby with no gloves as soon as he was born. I wanted to see what kind of person they were in their past life. Caveman died hunting a mammoth(looked like it hurt), Spartan holding the line and catching a stray arrow, plus many others. Then..\n\nThen I saw me. Talk about some twilight zone shit. I saw all of my life all the way up to picking my baby. As the kid grew, I'd lay a hand on his head while he slept. More lives would show as he got older. My wife's, my aunt's, my P.O.S step-dad. Once again I have my theories but I'll write those elsewhere.\n\nThen I started getting the headaches, Doc said I had a tumor the size of a baseball in my brain. Inoperable. I think I'm actually ok with it though. I've lived tons of lifes. Ha! But for the first time I wondered if all this was just the tumor or real? I don't honestly know. I knew my time was short so I wanted to write this letter. I hope I make it to your 23rd birthday, I think it'd answer a few of the questions I have. Probably even prove a couple theories. As I write this, it's a week till then. I'll try to make it for you son, but I'm just so damn tired.\n\nI've never been good at this shit, but I am proud of you and I do love you.\n\n-Dad\n\nPS: Don't freak out if it does happen, read my other notes. It'll help you along. I've also found it's best to not tell anyone of it. Trust me, straight-jackets are not comfortable." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: You are a British child in the early 1800s whose father took you on a science expedition, but botany is boring. You're waylaid on a tiny island in the Atlantic, no kids to play with, boring. Then this regal old man the adults treat with great reverence engages you, an oddball named \"Napoleon.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "First time writing from a prompt but here it goes!\n\nWhy had father brought me here? The island was hot, the atmosphere hanging heavy and humid every hour of the day.\n\nMy father is a botanist, and studies all sorts of plants and herbs. His studies have made for many insightful discoveries in medicine, but make for very little fun or stimulation for a boy my age. While my peers were learning trades, chasing girls, or having adventures, I was marooned here, on this island.\n\nIt's not all terrible though. On one of my exploring expeditions I stumbled upon a stone house covered in snarled vines. I stayed in the woods near the house, maybe 30 yards out. Through the windows I could see movement in the form of a dark silhouette. I approached the house, my feet crunching brittle twigs and grass. When I was 5 yards from the entrance, the front door swung open with a loud \" Whoosh!\" and exposed an old man short in stature. \"Good morning young one\" he greeted me in a gruff French tone \"what brings the young explorer to my castle today?\".\n\nI politely spoke with the old man for a few minutes, describing my father's works on the island and my desires for freedom and adventures. He laughed a reminiscent and encouraging laugh. There was an air of calm wisdom about him. Needless to say, I took to the old man quickly.\n\nWhen ur returned back to my island hut that night, I told my father of my newfound friend. He seemed disinterested until he asked for the man's name. \"Mr. Bonaparte\" seemed to spike his interest, as his gaze focused into my eyes and his face became stern when I answered his question. My father was pleased that I was keeping myself entertained, and told me to return to Mr. Bonaparte's tomorrow to see if he needed any work done for him. The idea seated itself firmly in me, as I was excited to fill a day with some hard work and to learn more about my new friend.\n\nBefore I left in the morning, my father gave me some bread and cheese to take with me for lunch. He also gave me a couple teabags he himself had made with a special blend of herbs. He told me it was for Mr. Bonaparte as a gift for giving me work. I bounded out the door and into the wooded path towards the stone house.\n\nI greeted Mr. Bonaparte outside his home, and asked him if he needed any help with projects around the house. He showed me inside and upstairs, where I would be building a shelf for his bedroom. As I got to work assembling the beach-wood shelf, I stumbled upon an ornately decorated military uniform in his closet. The lapels were gold like the rising sun, and the blue and white of the uniform were richly colored and stainless. I mused with myself, pretending to be a soldier holding a plank of wood turned rifle. Mr. Bonaparte came upstairs with the tea, and sat in a chair in the corner of the room. He sipped it and smiled at me, noticing I had seen the contents of the closet. \"I was once a great general you know.\" He laughed and shook his head \"The greatest in all of Europe. Yes, the British, Prussians, and even the Russians had a hard time stopping me. But alas, the empire tired of war, and I came here\"\n\nI didn't exactly understand what he meant, but I nodded my head and looked intently at him as he spoke and sipped at his tea. I finished the shelf after an hour of work, and departed after saying goodbye to Mr. Bonaparte.\n\nI returned to the but in time for supper, and told my father about everything I had done that day. He asked if Mr. Bonaparte liked he work I did and if he liked the tea I brought. I replied \"yes!\" with a quick smile.\n\nWhen I returned to Mr. Bonaparte's on the third day, I was met with no greeting. I knocked on the large oak door, only to be answered with silence interrupted by the sounds of the forest. I pushed open the door and called out. No response. I walked through the hearth, then into the kitchen. There was a kettle on the stove that had a hole burnt right through it. At the table in the dining room sat Mr. Bonaparte, his back turned to me. I called to him, but he sat there silently staring into the woods. When I tapped him on the shoulder, I froze. His skin was clamy and stiff. I moved my body into his gaze, and horror shook me. Mr. Bonaparte was dead. A thin stream of dried blood ran from his bottom lip to the tip of his chin. His face was a pale blue, and his eyes had rolled back. I shuddered in fear and shock, then bolted home through the woods. When I returned, my father stood out front of the hit, our belongings loaded onto the back of a carriage.\n\n\"We're leaving my son, my work here is finished. Now we go back to Britain.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: Werewolves have ungodly strength, Vampires have uncanny agility, the undead are nigh unkillable, and humans... turn into vengeful spirits if they are murdered. You're an arrogant young Vampire and you disregarded your elders' warning and just slaughtered an entire village." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“I didn’t know your kind could drink ale,” Hattie said as she slid a pint across the wooden bar, giving the newcomer a sidelong look.\n\nThe vampire, thin and pale and cold, snatched at the pint glass and took a long swig. Next to him, one of her regulars, Thorin, chuckled. “Didn’t think ya could drink anythin’ other than blood,” he said in between gulps of his own drink.\n\n“Careful, now,” Hattie said, giving her regular patron a stern glance. “Not every night we have a vampire here.” She gave him a nod before going back to wiping down the bar. “What brings you here on this windy night, vampire?”\n\nThe gaunt figure sighed, drained his beer, and slammed it down on the wooden surface so quickly that it shattered.\n\nHattie laughed. “I see the stories of supernatural agility aren’t false. Does that mean that werewolves are incredibly strong, just like they say?”\n\n“It is,” the vampire replied, looking down. “Do you have more ale? Or, perhaps, chicken blood?” He snarled at Thorin, who had started to laugh. “Did I say something funny, human?”\n\n“Now, now,” Hattie said, swatting at Thorin with her rag. “I can get you another ale, but I’ve no chicken’s blood. Go kill your own in the market tomorrow if you want that.” She poured him another ale, then stared at him as he chugged it. “Never seen a vampire so...scared, is it?”\n\nHe paused his drinking to stare at her with his red eyes. She stared back, issuing a silent challenge. Thorin, meanwhile, had spilled ale across his front, and was busy trying to figure out how to mop it up without spilling more.\n\n(He failed miserably.)\n\n“You have a lot of questions, barmaid,” the vampire said.\n\n“I’ll give you another ale for free if you have a good enough story,” she replied. “Honest. I don’t get enough interesting tales runnin’ a tavern so far off the main adventure paths. Most exciting thing is this one,” she jabbed her thumb at Thorin, “and guessin’ how many clean shirts he still has left. So what is it? Fight with another vampire?” The wind outside howled and Hattie reached over to shutter the closest window, though she kept her eyes on the vampire.\n\nHe sighed, brushed his long blonde hair out of his face, and shook his head. “No. Worse. How much do you know of the powers of humans?”\n\nHattie frowned. “We don’t got any. Just —- well, only the undead, I suppose, but you’d have to be magicked the right away to become one of them. Nigh unkillable, though.”\n\nThe vampire nodded. “Not the only way to give a human powers through death, barmaid.”\n\n“My name is Hattie. The free ale is off the table if you keep calling me ‘barmaid’. It makes me sound like a common who—hey, Thorin! Knock it out!” She shoved the man’s hand away from the other side of the bar, where he’d nearly stolen a full jug of ale. Thorin yelped and fell off his stool, hitting the ground with a loud thump. Hattie laughed and looked back to the vampire. “You were saying?”\n\nThe vampire didn’t give Thorin the slightest glance, even when he bumped into his stool as he shakily got to his feet. He just stared into his ale, giving it a swish now and then, lost in thought. “You hear of the village of Brandermeer?”\n\nHattie shivered. “They were killed all in one night. Nobody could talk about anything else for months, even though Brandermeer is a month’s journey on foot.” She paused, taking in a slow breath. “They said it was…”\n\n“A vampire?” Her newest patron laughed, his knuckles whiter than the rest of him as he clutched his mug. “A young one. One who didn’t listen to his elders. So smug, this vampire, who thought he could escape the consequences of a night of ravenous, pointless murder.”\n\nThe wind outside began to pick up, the shutters of the tavern shaking as the torches flickered. “Is it true, then? That people who get murdered can haunt those who did ‘em wrong?” Hattie asked, shivering from the cold air. The shutters did nothing to keep the biting chill out of the tavern despite the warm spring evening they’d enjoyed just an hour or two earlier.\n\n“‘Pay the humans no heed, lest you sow a vengeful spirit’s seed,’” the vampire said slowly, reciting something that appeared to haunt him as much as any spirit. “Hattie, have you ever seen a village full of bloody, vengeful spirits?”\n\nShe shook her head slowly as she watched him take one final swig of his ale. The door to the tavern, previously shut, began to slowly open. The wind stopped, the air still and eerie.\n\nThe vampire stood up, dropping a coin on the tavern. “Well, you’ll see them now. Thanks for the ale, Hattie, it was much better than the last village.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: The higher your blood-alcohol level, the more powerful your magic." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Man, this party is amazing! Does Jesus always hang this hard?” Simon asked Mary.\n\n“You have no idea. The guy can drink. Once he gets the ball rolling he doesn’t stop. He starts turning water into wine and just keeps on partying.”\n\n“Whoa, whoa, wait. He can turn water into wine?”\n\n“You should see it. It’s nuts! When he gets drunk you can put a glass of water in his hand and after he takes a sip it turns to wine. For Cynthia’s bat-mitzvah we were having him turn whole casks of water into wine. Now that was a party.\n\n“Will you introduce me? I have to meet this guy.”\n\n“Are you sure that’s who you want to meet? I brought a bunch of my girlfriends from the bordello. They’ll show you a better time I’m sure.” Mary said.\n\n“Maybe later. I’d like to meet this Jesus character first.\n\n“Ok. Follow me.” Mary said.\n\nThe event had been growing since the early afternoon ‘all you can eat’ fish fry. But it wasn’t a real party till the sun went down and Mary showed up with all her friends.\n\n“Jesus, I want you to meet my good friend Simon. We go way back.” Mary said.\n\nJesus put his arm around Simon.\n\n“SSSimon! Any friend of Mary’s is a friend of mine. Good to meet ya! Want a loaf of bread?” Jesus slurred and pulled a fresh loaf of bread from his sleeve. His face was warm and airy like the loaf of bread he handed to Simon.\n\n“Thanks man, I need to soak up some of this wine. I just wanted to thank you for the hospitality. The wine is great and the fish fry was fantastic.” Simon said.\n\n“That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Bring it in. Give me a hug.” Jesus said as he leaned in and gave Simon a full bear hug. Simon felt more fullness and love in that hug than he had ever felt before in his life. There truly was something spectacular about this Jesus fella. Jesus turned to Mary.\n\n“Mary! I just had the best idea.” Jesus jumped onto the nearest table. He knelt towards Simon.\n\n“I built this you know.” He said and knocked a knuckle on the table top. He stood quick and held his arms wide.\n\n“Everyone! Can I have your attention please. First I’d like to thank you all for coming to my party. I hope you’re all having the best of times.\n\nThe party cheered in response.\n\n“Second I want to say that I love you all. Seriously guys. You’re all the best.”\n\nAgain the crowd roared in response.\n\n“And lastly, I just had a great idea.... Let's all go skinny dipping!!”\n\nThe party lost its mind at that.\n\nJesus leapt back down from the table, grabbed a bottle of water and started walking towards the sea. The entire party followed.\n\nWith Jesus leading the way Simon ran to catch up to him in the front.\n\n“Jesus, you’re a maniac! You really know how to have a good time.”\n\nJesus put his arm around Simon, and again he felt warmth he’d never known was possible.\n\n“Simon, my dude, have I told you i love you?” Jesus said with most of his weight leaning on Simon.\n\n“Well I mean you just told the whole party you love them so I guess so.”\n\n“No man, like I really love you. You’re my new best friend. Don’t tell the other disciples though. I don’t want them to get mad.”\n\n“We’re right here you know.” Bart said from behind Jesus. “We can hear you.”\n\n“Oh shit, my bad guys. I mean I love you all! You’re all my best friends. And I hope you guys love everyone too.” Jesus said and took a swig of water that transmuted into wine. The front of his robes were speckled with wine spills as he sloshed the bottle around.\n\nThey were at the beach at this point. Most of the party was removing their clothes and getting ready to swim. Jesus didn’t seem to notice how close to the water he was. He just kept on trucking.\n\n“We only just met but I think I feel the same. You’re rad Jesus.” Simon said.\n\nTheir sandals caught waves and Jesus didn’t stop walking. Simon kept pace.\n\n“Good. That’s what the world needs. Is people loving each other even if they just met,” jesus said.\n\nSimon was knee deep in water.\n\n“In fact I would say it’s the most important thing!”\n\nSimon was waist deep.\n\n“I firmly believe that love can change the world. No more war, no more poverty, no more crime. You know what I mean Simon?” Jesus was looking around and couldn’t find his new friend. Simon was swimming in the same water that Jesus was standing atop of.\n\n“I agree!” Simon said spitting out a mouthful of salt water.\n\nMary swam up as naked as the day she was born.\n\n“It’s pretty crazy right?” She said.\n\n“Yeah, how the hell is he walking on water?” Simon asked.\n\n“I’m not sure but I think he gets too drunk to realize he’s supposed to sink. Watch this. Hey Jesus! You realize you’re walking on water right?” Mary called out.\n\nHe looked down and as soon he did he dropped down into the sea with the rest of the party goers. He did however manage to hold his bottle of wine above his head so’s not to waste any.\n\n“I think that’s where his magic comes from. Being to drunk to know magic doesn’t really exist. That, or he really is the son of God. One of the two.” Mary said with a smile and swam away." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Whenever her body was exposed to cum, she transformed slightly more into her partner's ideal mate..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rachel's soft tongue curled slowly up the muscly girth of Brett's thoroughly erect cock. It moved over the thick, pulsing veins of the throbbing member until it crested over the swollen head already oozing with precum. Brett groaned softly, \"Oh fuck...\"\n\nThere was a twinkle in Rachel's eye as her tongue tasted the first sampling of the man's juices. As her tongue made contact with the sticky fluid, the curly brown hair flowing down Rachel's bare back turned noticeably redder. She closed her lips around Brett's fat and and sucked. A faint \"pop\" of her lips later and a bit more of his pre oozed into her mouth. Rachel's breast swelled, filling and stretching her modestly sized black bra, the only piece of clothing she was still wearing. Behind her, Rachel's bare ass swelled slightly as well, each cheeking plumping out just a bit as just a bit of Brett's cum slid down her throat.\n\nAlso behind Rachel, two other male hands took her firmly by the hips and Connor's naked, athletic body pressed close behind her. Another impressive, steel hard rod found its way towards Rachel's body. As Connor's manhood penetrated the lips of Rachel's soaking pussy from behind, her hair turned from red to blond. Her stomach tensed and narrowed, what little fat there was vanished and was replaced by tone abs. Her previously plumping ass cheeks slimmed to tight, round bun's of steel as Connor's precum snuck inside her.\n\nRachel's eyes turned green as she look temptingly up at Brett's his cock now well inside her throat, her tongue swirling around his almost terrifying girth. \"Shit...\" Brett breathed again, and Rachel's ass started to swell again, only to shrink as Connor started to fuck her from behind.\n\nRachel removed the fat cock from her mouth, swirly her tongue thoroughly around its head and lapped what juices were there into her throat. Her breasts swelled even more as her eyes turned blue. Her ass grew and her now huge tits threatened to burst from her bra. \"Care to help me with this?\" she gestured to her only garment, thumbing the strap of her bra.\n\n\"Gladly,\" Brett purred as Connor grunted, moving his hips slightly harder. As Brett unhooked her bra, Rachel let out a loud \"Ahhhh!\" of pleasure as Connor appeared to have hit the perfect spot. 'FuCK!\" she exclaimed, turning behind her to see the tightest ass that ever walked the earth being taken enthusastically by Connor. \"Fuck yes...\" she groaned, as Brett pulled her bra away, letting two huge tits bounce free.\n\nA momently later, Brett's manhood was back down her throat as she sucked like a woman obsessed. Connor's deep grunts filled the room and Rachel moaned with a very full mouth. Her hair and eyes changed color by the second. The size of her ass shrunk and swelled with each of Connor's thrust's and each time Rachel's tongue passed over Brett's throbbing head. Apparently both men preferred larger breasts as Rachel's bosom bounced wildly with her wild sucking.\n\nBrett was first to cum. Rachel clamped her lips around his girth and suck with all her focusing, taking all his load down her throat. Her breasts swelled even more and her ass would make Kim Kardashian's look petite. But then Connor let out a roar of release as he erupted his own load deep into that titantic rear. It shrunk by the second and tightened in a moment so that it was fitter than a professional kick boxer's. As the two men came, Rachel's hand shifted by the millisecond between blonde and red and her eyes were a rainbow.\n\n\"Fuck...\" she panted, exhausted. Both men pulled back, also panting. Rachel leaned back on her now fit and moved her fingers to her well fucked womanhood. It was time to change her back to her own favorite self..." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: Born without arms, you've lived a reserved life. You've heard the jokes before, but a coworker makes a very cruel comment, sending you into a rage. Your rage turns to surprise after your powerful desire to punch him in the face is followed by him on the ground, clutching his nose in pain." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "All I could hear was my heart beating so fast and loud that the person next to me could tell my heart rate without touching me. Everything seemed to slow down now...I'm sweating more than a bunch of hairy guys on a beach playing volleyball in the afternoon. I have had adrenaline rush before but ,but this was different. Let me get to how I've got myself into this.\n\nI was born with a rare congenital condition . I was born with no upper limbs. Needless to say all my life I was kept at arms length (forgive the pun) from everything. Childhood was a disaster I dint know what happened or why it happened or how it happened. I'm just glad it was all a blur.\n\nI had to improvise a lot of stuff. I learnt how to write with my feet. I learnt to eat with them. I even learnt to give myself foot jobs. Clean up was tough though but I digress. I wasn't a bad student but I just wasn't interested in the boring classes. After all nobody taught me how to scratch my balls when they itched, I'm proud I learnt it myself. Sorry let's go past my teenage years before I throw out some more bad adolescent jokes at you.\n\nI'm 25 now. I do have a few friends who are older than me but no real connection with them. I started working at a shoe mart the only place that dint require arms and I get to see feet. FEET.😍.\n\nI'm usually very reserved since I don't want people to look at me like I'm a puppy with cancer. I go about my business ,finish my work and well I clock it out.I could have gone on disability but my parents taught me we need to earn our food. I have learned to live with my curse now. Everybody gave me space but not TONY. If I had hands I would have strangled that guy. Tony and me never were on the same page. I understand that he has to keep us all in check but he doesn't have to do it by being in month long PMS state.\n\nI was having a pretty bad brooding day and minding my own business when TONY started testing my patience. I've heard the jokes and the puns before. My skin is thicker than a Rhinos hide. I don't know it was all I could do keep myself from kicking that guy in the face. I wanted to do it with the new tennis shoes . Atleast those lines would give his plain face some form of definition. I don't know what it was but today I've had enough. I finally had enough of this douche calling me names for which I wasn't responsible.\n\nI confronted him and told him to back off. He just laughed at me and asked me. \" What are you going to do Man? PUNCH ME?. I've had enough of his BS..... I closed my eyes and tried to control my anger.\n\n\"It's not cool man.\". My voice was shaking with anger .\n\nThe anger sounded like weakness to him I guess . My anger was fuel to his douchiness and he came to me and knocked me over. I lost my balance and was about to hit the edge of a sharp desk when I felt I stopped myself. I felt something I've never felt before. I felt the desk with my HANDS!!. Tony was right behind me now and I could hear his mouth breathing grow louder...I balled up what I felt was my hand into a fist and aimed it right between his eyes just above the nose.\n\nIt made a noise like a baseball makes when it hits the sweet spot on the bat. I hit Tony's face for a homerun and pain shot through my knuckles,wrist , forearm , arm and to my brain. I felt it. . I could feel both my arms.Tony was out cold. My colleagues looked at me like I how Emily Rose saw those devil's faces .I broke into a run and stormed out of there.\n\nI felt pain in my KNUCKLES. I've never seen my knuckles , I've never had the privilege of cracking my knuckles after finishing a long piece of crappy school assignment. As I was about to turn a corner I heard a voice \"It took you long enough. We thought you would never use them\". I knew that voice. I turned around to see a familiar face and felt a pang of vertigo take over me .I felt faint now and even though I got new arms my legs started to give away from under me.I fell into a deep slumber.\n\nWill continue if people like it." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Caffeine is now considered a hard drug. It is a felony charge to posses or use caffeine. Rehab develops new centers solely for people who are addicted to caffeine. You run a black market coffee shop in New York City, one of the strictest cities in, \"The war on Caffeine.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I looked over my shoulder for what seemed like the 1000th time. You could never be too careful in my line of work. A brisk breeze billowed down Broadway; it was a chilly winter day in the Big Apple. Which is why I had decided to wear my thick trench coat- it was impervious to the cold.\n\nWell...that's not the only reason. It also had a lot of pockets. As I dug my hands deeper into them to keep warm, I felt the small plastic package and massaged its contents between my fingers. I looked over my shoulder one more time- I couldn't afford to be stopped and frisked, not with this much java on me.\n\nCongress outlawing coffee was probably the best thing to happen to me. You'd think they would have learned from Prohibition- making something illegal doesn't reduce the demand, it just reduces the supply. That means that people are willing to pay through the nose to get their caffeine fix. And who was ready and eager to move into this niche market? None other than yours truly.\n\nI had to be careful though. New York had one of the biggest coffee problems in the country, so they cracked down hard. Police dogs patrolled the streets, eager to sniff out another criminal. That's why I took every precaution necessary- vacuum sealed packages, lots of disinfectant, anything to mask the scent. It had worked so far, but who knew when my luck would run out?\n\nI turned the corner into a secluded back alley. I was unfamiliar with the area- as always, since I picked a new place for every deal. Routine is a killer in this business; if they know your schedule then they know where to find you. I did a quick sweep of the area. Nobody around, and an easy exit point between the falafel restaurant and the boutique store. Now all I had to do was wait for the buyer. I refused to wait more than 10 minutes before bailing- you can never stay in one place for too long. If he didn't show up soon...\n\n\"Are you Starbuck?\"\n\nI jumped. I hadn't even seen him come around the corner.\n\n\"Keep your voice down!\" I hissed at him.\n\n\"Oops. I'm here for the...cocoa powder we spoke about. \"\n\nHe was a middle aged man, beer gut and slightly balding. Nothing remarkable about him at all. He just wanted his coffee, nothing more. He handed me two crisp 100 dollar bills. I pulled the product out of my pocket and-\n\n\"FREEZE!\"\n\nAn officer darted around the corner, gun drawn. I dropped the packet and bolted for the exit point. But there was another officer waiting for me there. How could they have known? This had to be a setup! How could I have been so stupid?\n\n\"Looks like we've finally caught the notorious Starbuck!\" The first officer grinned wide as the second began patting me down. They pulled out the other 4 baggies that I had on me.\n\n\"Having 3 of these on you is enough to send you to jail for a long time,\" he said as he slipped a package into his back pocket. \"Come with me, we're taking a trip to the police station.\"\n\nFirst time poster, any feedback would be great!" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: The cure for cancer has been found! Unfortunately, you were diagnosed Stage 4. The disease has progressed too far for treatment. You will be the last person to die of cancer." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Dear Cora,\n\nI am your Father. You'll understand that line by the time you read this, I hope. I wanted to write you using my words so that you will know of me outside of what they say in the history books. I wanted to tell you of in brief summary who I am and where I will be when you're old enough to know that I'm not going to be there. With these terrible words I set our path in stone.\n\nI'll skip over my trials and tribulations of my childhood. You'll hear stories from your mother about how I pulled her hair on our bus, how we fell apart in high school and reunited when we lived in the same dorm our freshman year of college. You'll hear how I smoked cigarettes, played guitar, drank whiskey and got lost in Ohio for nine hours once. You'll hear those stories, but not here. Those stories are for happy reunions and of no consequence to this letter.\n\nInstead, allow me tell you about the day I met you. The hospital room was stifling with summer's heat. The sun kissed every surface of the room and illustrated the beads of sweat on your mother's forehead. Movies make you believe that its a fast process but we were there in that room for eighteen hours. You were so stubborn to enter the world, but outside of the occasional cup of coffee I waited for you.\n\nYou were born in bounds of blood and black capped hair. Your eyes were so small and you grabbed onto my finger causing me to leave behind the person I was before I met you. I knew then that I lied to your mother when I said she would be the only girl I would ever love. It was no longer true. I loved you so entirely that I had yet to understand that depth of love.\n\nMonths without sleep and the degradation of our home began to wear on us. It isn't easy with a small baby to keep passion kindled. I'll digress, we are fine your mother and I, but at the time we fought over everything. I started to take you on my afternoon walks. The fall gave way to winter and winter gave way to your first birthday. Our walks were truly wonderful and I thank you for having patience with me. You would squirm, squeal, throw your pacifier and I would return it to its place loyally.\n\nWhen your birthday arrived you were so excited when the balloons I picked had your favorite Disney characters on them. You ate the cake that was made for you and months later your mother and I would stop fighting and start sleeping in the same bed. Remember always, even when relationships start to feel broken you can mend them. Time yield bandage to all wounds. The ones we receive in a verbal manner are especially true of this concept.\n\nYou're not much older now, you've lived only a few years and in exchange for my life, you will never have to feel the way I feel. I won't be there to walk you down the aisle when you marry. I won't be able to wait by the door when you're late from a date. This breaks me in ways I thought no man could be broken. However, I take solace in science, medicine and thought. You will know many fantastic things. Things I can't even imagine.\n\nJust because I lack physical appearance, it doesn't mean I am not there. You are mine as I am entirely yours. Your blood is mine and that means we are never separated. When you feel wind pour through you and the sun reflect along your path, you will know it is me. I wish I could think of all the fatherly advice I should give you, but I'm coming up dry. The truth is that parents kind of make it up as they go.\n\nNone of us understand life's great symphony. We can not prepare for our moments where we play with the group or march into our solo performance or make our curtain call. We are dissonance of instruments attempting to play the same song. We are ripples of cause and effect and eventual demise. We are finality and eternity. We are the moments where we pull the hair of the girl in front of us and the moment where we press her close to our skin in the first sparks of love. I hope you receive that moment just as unexpectedly as myself.\n\nRemember, its okay to be out of tune, scared and uncertain. It should not stop you in your journey and you should not wait for another's wave to send your boat floating forward. Instead you press forward with your resolve. When you're able to capture yourself and push yourself you will still lose but it will be far less bitter than some make it out to be.\n\nMy dearest Cora, with my last words I write to you know that I love you the way that sun flowers love the spring. I adore you the way you adore spinning in your little dresses in the backyard where your swing set waits patiently for your return. I only hope you remain with a simple love of life the way you have it now.\n\nOne day you will probably read of me on the internet or in a magazine or see me mentioned in your school work. The last man to die of a terrible demon that humanity has defeated. When you see these things remember me as a man of feeling, compassion, love and not just an entry into a medical journal or show of oddities.\n\nForever, I will be with you.\n\nDad" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: You fall in love with your best friend who is already in a relationship, but they reveal feelings for you out of the blue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "John loved her, he never realised it until that day. He and his best friend were invited to the party, his girlfriend came along too. He saw her in the light of the bonfire the party had, the light danced off her face like a angel's. He realised he loved her at that moment. He woke up the next morning, slightly hung over and regretting his decisions the night before. He hated that he loved her, his best mate was his first friend, the friend he'd had since primary school, they'd done everything together for years. They'd even run off together when they were grounded for setting off a firecracker when they had a sleepover. The police had found them, defiant ten-year olds in the woods, facing off the three officers with wooden sticks, holding them like spears. The had told that story to her at the party, her laugh was so beautiful.\n\nJohn slapped himself, worried about where his mind was wandering. Swinging his legs out of the bed, he stood up and went into the kitchen to find a hangover cure. He was standing on the deck of the lakeside home of his mate's girlfriend, she had invited John there at the party, she needed help nursing his drunk mate, Jim. He softly drank his cup of tea, marvelling at how delicious it was. 'Morning', John froze. It was Emily, she had seen him on the deck lost in thought, something she liked about John, he was always so mysterious. She liked hugging people and John was no exception, she gave him a warm embrace from behind. She didn't notice John's expression, he masterfully hid his emotions as he put his arm around her, trying as much as he could to make it appear like a brotherly hug.\n\nHe managed to suppress his feelings, he had a great discussion with Emily about the night before, both of them were angry at Jim's reckless drinking. Then the conversation turned serious; a debate over which Firefly character was the best. It helped John, his animated arguing helped keep his mind off things. He knew it wouldn't last.\n\nHe sat dripping in the back of the car with Jim back home, he had gotten revenge on John's wake-up call of a pillow smacking into his face and a spray-can of cream attack had not gone down well. They were both soaked, John had grabbed Jim and pulled him into the lake with him after the shove. They had laughed about it, and soon John was packing up to go back to University.\n\nHe didn't see Emily for nearly two months, but the ache didn't let up. He stopped talking to her online, stopped returning her texts. Jim asked him about it when he came to visit, Emily didn't understand why he wasn't returning her messages. John had been ashamed, but Jim understood, he knew what kind of man his best mate was, and knew he wouldn't ever do something like that. John had felt absolved and he started talking to Emily again, not much though, he wanted to keep his distance. Then that night had happened, Jim and Emily had been fighting, both were upset beyond measure. She showed up at John's door, soaked by the rain of the thunderstorm that night, it was if Thor knew. Her tears and ruined make-up made her look like a drag queen, John didn't care. Despite all his conflicted feelings about his love for her, he was so happy to see her. She was inconsolable, she snuggled up to him, trying to forget the fight. John was happy to console her, one of the few things he was able to be was a shoulder to cry on, Jim appreciated it more than John realised, and so did Emily.\n\nShe raised her head from his chest where she had been resting it and looked him in the eyes. 'What is it?' He asked. 'I know, John.'\n\n'Know what?'\n\n'I knew who I loved when I met Jim, but it wasn't until that day after the party I realised you felt the same.'\n\nJohn stammered 'What? I don't know what you're talking about'.\n\n'I think you do, you were there when I met Jim, he was hanging from the tree, doing pull-ups while you hung upside down from the same tree, making fun of him for being such a weakling. I loved your quirkiness, I just never knew I loved you until you stopped talking to me.'\n\n'I was busy, I had a lot on my mind.'\n\n'You and I both know that's a lie.'\n\n'But...'\n\nShe put a finger on his lips, and before they knew it, they were kissing. The joy was the most bittersweet they had ever experienced, betrayal and lust, longing and shame, desire and pain, it was a feeling that made them both want to break apart and never see each other again, but they had held their feelings inside for too long, and they couldn't.\n\nI hope you liked that." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: He's so straight that any guy he's attracted to is magically transformed into a girl so it wont be gay." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It always happened so suddenly.\n\nRoger would be relaxing, hanging out with the guys, watching the game, doing... you know, manly shit. Then one of them would say something funny, maybe smile in a certain way...\n\nThen poof!\n\nThey were a girl.\n\nJust like that.\n\nIt made his social life... well, odd. No manly man wants to hang out with a guy who can turn them into a girl. That shit's expensive to reverse, not to mention embarassing in the moment. Going from 'one of the guys' to 'sudden cute girl' was terrible for the masculine ego. Esepcially when the other dudes think its the funniest thing in the world and drop their social filter.\n\nSome of the shit people say to their best friends... eugh.\n\nGuys didn't like that. Didn't like being pushed onto the other side of the street. Forced into another perspective. It was all fun and games until it happened to them.\n\nThat is... well, until Terry.\n\nThey'd met just after Roger moved three states over for a new job. He was hoping he could maybe get his shit under control, start fresh in a new city without the same reputation.\n\nTerry seemed cool. He was short, messy... pretty geeky actually. Not usually the kind of person he would have liked to hang out with. But they liked the same football team, apparently their parents knew each other back in high school, and shit... he kinda found the dork charming in his own way.\n\nThat's why he really hoped it wouldn't happen again.\n\nSo inevitably it did.\n\nThey were watching the game over at Roger's place. A couple beers in, bag of chips emptied. Terry had said something funny...\n\nPoof.\n\nThe funniest thing was, it barely seemed to register for her.\n\n\"Hey, the fuck? What's with the tits?\"\n\nRoger cringed, burying his face in his hands as Terry sat up from where she had been laying on the couch.\n\n\"The fuck happened to my voice? Hey Rog, did you...\"\n\nThat's when she caught sight of herself in the mirror Roger had hung next to the door. Even shorter now, barely cracking 5 feet. Dirty brown hair cascading over her shoulders in messy curls. A pretty face (at least in Roger's opinion). Terry took a few moments to stare, before stalking up to the mirror to inspect herself closer. After a few minutes, she turned to face Roger.\n\n\"So... by your reaction I gotta guess this isn't entirely unexpected. Wanna explain or...\"\n\nRoger gulped, peeking through his hands. Terry's expression was... well, surprising. Not embarrassment, or anger, just curiosity. As for everything that wasn't her expression, well...\n\nRoger quickly grabbed a nearby pillow to cover a certain something. He hated to admit it, but this curse, well, it tended to change people in ways he found favourable. And the way Terry was standing there with her hands on her hips, well a man had his reactions.\n\nRealizing that he'd been too distracted to actually answer, Roger cleared his throat.\n\n\"So, remember I mentioned I didn't have a lot of friends?\"\n\nTerry stared for a few moments, before snapping her fingers.\n\n\"Oh right!\"\n\n\"Yeah uh, sometimes I just um... if I find a dude attractive, he'll just...\"\n\nRoger gestured vaguely, mortified. You'd think a lifetime of doing this would make the explanation easier, but it never was.\n\nTerry just stared for a long moment, which was enough to make Roger wince. He readied himself for another shouting match. Another friendship struck down. The first domino in knocking down his budding social life.\n\n\"That's so fucking cool!\"\n\n\"Wh-what?\"\n\n\"That's badass!\"\n\nTerry hopped onto the couch next to Roger, grinning at him excitedly.\n\n\"So it just happens to anyone you find attractive?\"\n\n\"I- well yes. Usually. I just, y'know, notice something attractive about them. Like their smile, or y'know they tell a funny joke. Then I realize, 'oh shit' and they're just... poof. A girl.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: A dragon just saved your life. It becomes apparent that it foresees a tale of great heroism with you at the center and insists to chronicle it for its hoard." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Dav's shoulders were slumped as he trudged across the field. He should not be doing this. He should be sitting behind the counter of his nice, cozy book store. He liked it there. It was warm, and safe, and nothing ever tried to eat him.\n\nAnd yet, here he was, tramping through mud and dirt with a cheap sword in his hands. A sword that he barely knew how to use. And even if he did, it was barely sharp enough to cut a slime.\n\n\"Hey, Dav, you okay?\"\n\nDav shuddered. The tiny little girl walked a few steps behind him. Her magical scroll hovered behind her. He was glad it was rolled up. He did not need it recording his misery.\n\n\"You know I'm not.\" Dav said. \"I've told you a dozen times now that I'm not a hero. Just, please, I don't want to be here.\"\n\n\"Oh p'shaw. You only say that because you're just staring out and haven't done anything meaningful yet. You'll get into it once you've saved your first lady. Well, woman. Actual Ladies come later.\"\n\n\"You say that like I'll save anyone.\"\n\n\"I've seen it. Well, I've seen the end results. And none of my predictions have ever been wrong. Sure, I might be a little fuzzy on the early years, but that's going to happen with every seer. Why do you think prophesies are always so vague?\"\n\nDav rolled his eyes. He had heard all this before. He had heard it when she saved him from those drunk toughs, and again when she forced him to register as an adventurer. In fact, she had said some variation on those words quite a few times. He was still not convinced.\n\n\"Oh, how glorious it shall be.\" She said, twirling through the grass and mud. It vexed him how clean she was. \"Fighting, growing, vanquishing. Who knows, maybe someday you'll be powerful enough to slay me. Won't that be grand?\"\n\n\"You know, I think you're the only one in the world who's excited about someone being able to kill them.\"\n\n\"Well, why wouldn't I? Death is a lot less permanent than humans think it is. Plus, that kind of fight is the basis for all the best epic tales. Ah, I really can't wait.\"\n\n\"Yeah, neither can I.\" Dav muttered.\n\nThe girl stopped her little dance and rushed behind him.\n\n\"Ah, and here comes a heroic deed now.\"\n\nHe was about to question her when he saw them. Four large men armed with much sharper blades than his and wearing armor of various type and quality. They tramped through the field with much the same attitude that Dav had. At least, until they saw the odd pair.\n\n\"Well, look at that boys, a rookie adventurer and a noble's brat. Looks like we lucked out after all.\" One of the obvious bandits said.\n\n\"Yeah, really. Who knew coming this way would be a gold mine?\" Another replied. All of them were eyeing him like a sack of meat and the girl like a huge sack of gold.\n\nAll four of them drew their weapons.\n\n\"Alright, pretty sure you k ow how this is going to work.\" The man who Dav assumed was the leader said. \"Keep that sword sheathed, leave the kid with us, and you walk. Try and be brave and you'll be food for the worms.\"\n\n\"Well, Dav? What are you waiting for? Bring them to justice.\" The girl said. The edge of the scroll began to unroll.\n\n\"Are you joking? There's four of them, they're all better armed than me, and I can barely use this thing. There's no way I can beat them.\"\n\n\"Hey now, we've got a smart one here, boys.\" The bandit leader said happily. \"This'll be easier than we thought.\"\n\nThe girl ignored them. \"Really? Hm, and here I thought bandits would be easy. Well, let me see.\" The girl's eyes flashed for a moment. \"Oh, yes, I see it now. Wow, that is bad. Hm, perhaps I was a little hasty in this trip. Perhaps when we get back to town we should hire a trainer for you.\"\n\n\"Perhaps? Really? That should've been the first thing you did.\"\n\n\"I do apologise for letting my excitement get the better of my judgement. But for now, allow me to take care of this little annoyance.\"\n\nThe girl bounded over to the four confused bandits and smiled.\n\n\"I'm sorry, gentlemen, but your purpose in this little tale has ended. If you would be so kind as to leave peacefully, that will make everything so much easier for everyone.\"\n\nThe bandits responded by pointing their blades at her.\n\n\"Sorry, girl, but that's not the way this works. Looking at that fancy dress of yours, your parents must have a lot of money. You'll be coming with us to make sure we get quite a bit of it.\"\n\n\"Oh, but I would rather not. It sounds quite dull.\"\n\n\"Sorry, kid, but you don't get a choice. Now come along nice and quiet like a good little rich girl, or we'll cut your legs off and drag you with us.\"\n\n\"Is that so? Such a shame.\"\n\nThe girl began to change. Her skin rippled and shifted, becoming bright blue scales. Her teeth and nails sharpened and a long tail and wings sprouted from her back. And above all, she grew. And grew. And grew.\n\nBy the time the change happened, the now terrified bandits were looking into the eyes of a dragon. A dragon whose eyes were almost as large as they were.\n\nShe smiled, exposing teeth longer than their swords.\n\n\"Still want to cut my legs off?\" He voice boomed across the field.\n\nThe bandits did the only sensible thing and ran. Dav swore he saw some very distinct brown stains in their pants as they did.\n\n\"Did you really have to go that far?\" He asked. \"Why not just use magic and teleport them away?\"\n\n\"Oh now where's the fun in that?\" The dragon asked. \"Besides, it will be much easier to get back to town like this. Come Dav, get on my back and I'll fly us there. Oh, to see you riding into town on the back of a dragon! Truly the things that will start your legend. How grand it shall be.\"\n\nDav sighed and began climbing into her back. \"We've talked about this. You can't get anywhere near town in your true form, otherwise they'll mobilize the army to bring you down.\"\n\n\"Hm, yes, that would be problematic. I won't let anyone but you slay me, and only after you've become a suitable hero. Very well, I shall land a good distance away and disguise myself. Now then, let us be off.\"\n\nAs he clutched to the ridges that lined her back, Dav once again thought of how little he wanted to be where he was." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: You go home after a long day at work and are greeted with your pitch black home. You close the door behind you and try to find the light switch in the darkness but can't. In fact you can't even find any furniture, doors, or walls. Only pure black." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I am thinking about Sharon who works in Accounting and wears those form-fitting pencil skirts with the checkered patterns when I open the door. I am thinking about Sharon's breasts and her lips and her perfume as I step through the door and into the darkness. I am thinking of what it might feel like to press up against Sharon, to wrap my arms around her, to bury my face in her neck, when I reach back for the light switch. I am imagining myself finding the line of the zipper down the back of her pencil skirt and pulling slowly downward when my hand floats through nothingness once, then twice, then again.\n\nI am still thinking about Sharon and her breasts and her skirt as I whirl around in the darkness, seeing no light switch, seeing no wall, seeing no door, seeing nothing at all.\n\nAnd just like that, Sharon is gone and I am aware of the quiet and the darkness and the faint smell of pine.\n\nI am in a room with no beginning and no ending. I am aware that it may not be a room. I do not know what else it might be.\n\nThere is ground below me. That is all I have. But just as I say this to myself, I realize that it is not true. I raise my foot and lower it. It does not find purchase. It does not find bottom. I reach for my feet and find nothing. I reach for my face and find nothing.\n\nNothing.\n\nSo where is my mind?\n\nI try swimming through the darkness. I ask my limbs to fan out and contract; to rise and fall. But there is nothing that says they can hear me. There is nothing that says they still exist.\n\nAll that I have are thoughts. And what do those prove? Do they alone argue for my existence?\n\nAnd yet there... there it is again... that smell of pine. Of distilled forest. Of cleanliness.\n\nWhat else can I do to prove I exist? I have misplaced my mouth. My hands have abandoned me. My legs do not recognize me.\n\nWhat do I have?\n\nI have Sharon, I suppose. I have the thought of her smile. I have the searing memory of her hand on mine as she gathers a pile of documents from my arms. I have that radiating warmth that bursts from the center of my stomach, down to my groin and up through my chest, every time she walks into the office.\n\nI have Sharon.\n\nI have Melanie, too, I suppose. But do I? I try to recall Melanie, there in the dark, in the void, in the weightless, soundless nothing. Her face is abstract. Strangely angled and vague.\n\nMelanie. My wife. She will not join me in the dark.\n\nBut then, I suppose, we have grown apart, haven't we? She is sullen and reserved. In recent months, she has been nothing but glares and cold quietness. We do not love each other anymore, I think. I know I do not. I have Sharon. Sharon is there, in my heart. Sharon is here now, in the darkness. And where is Melanie? I cannot find her. I cannot recall her.\n\nThe pine scent remains. And something else. Stinging, chemical. Unpleasant.\n\nBleach, perhaps?\n\nWhy can't I find myself? My body is here, somewhere. I know it is. The rest of me is near. Down here. In the dark.\n\nI exist. I must.\n\nWill Sharon look for me? My heart says she will, but where is my heart? Is it with me in the dark? Is it floating further and further away?\n\nSharon will look for me.\n\nAnd Melanie? No. I don't believe she will. She is afraid of the dark. No. She will not come looking for me.\n\nIt is bleach. It is strong. Why can I smell, but not see? Not hear? Not feel? And why bleach?\n\nWhere was I when I fell into the darkness? I am struggling to remember and it was not long ago.\n\nI was somewhere, thinking about Sharon.\n\nDoes Sharon think about me?\n\nI will ask her. Once I find my way out of the darkness.\n\nThe smell of bleach is beginning to fade. And I am saddened by this somehow. It is unpleasant, but it is a sense. My last sense. And it is going away. What happens when it is gone? Then I will have nothing. Nothing but my thoughts. Might they go away, too?\n\nI must escape this darkness. I have work tomorrow. Sharon will be there. In her pencil skirts. With her perfume.\n\nI will tell Melanie. I will tell her about Sharon.\n\nShe will understand.\n\nI suspect she may already guess.\n\nYes.\n\nI must find myself.\n\nIn this darkness.\n\nI have work tomorrow." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: you are a lone survivor of a space expedition. everyone else died of a mysterious disease and you have a chance to go home. However you can potentially infect earth with an unknown virus. or sacrifice your life for the better of the human race." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This world was truly ripe with color, vibrantly pigmentated flora that covered the planet's landscape. It could easily distract one's attention from the small scout spaceship that had crashed into the side of a creek and was now mostly hidden beneath the dirt that had fallen on top of it.\n\nAnd yet there was one more peculiarity about this scene. A whistling tune broke the peaceful, if somewhat eery silence of the garden world. A figure, clad in a damaged astronaut suit, was merrily digging through the mossy ground. After all of her hard work so far, she would finally get to bury the last of the colleagues that had the misfortune of joining her on this trip.\n\nTheir landing might have been somewhat unsuccessful, but when they all got out of the ship alive, they had some hope left that they would survive until rescue arrived. That hope soon vanished after they started to shrivel up and die one after another. They had all come into contact with the atmosphere, and everyone started showing signs of the disease almost immediately. Everyone besides her.\n\nAlone as she found herself, she soon made peace with the situation. She would have to die there too. She couldn't risk bringing back whatever this killer was back to Earth and threatening the lives of everyone. The decision didn't seem difficult considering she had no way of contacting the home base anyways.\n\nBut as she was covering up the ghastly remains of poor old Thomas, she started hearing an annoying ringing in her ear. At first, she thought that the killed of her team had come to claim her too. That poison, or virus, or fungus, or whatever it was that did this to them. She wasn't a damn scientist, Thomas was, and he wasn't in a position to give her any fun insight about the nature of their assassin, as much as he might have delighted in doing so.\n\nAfter a while, however, the ringing became something far more coherent, as she recognized it as the emergency communication implant that she completely forgot existed. This realization was not comforting in the slightest, quite the opposite. Take away the lack of choice in the matter and her peace with dying of starvation on a beautiful yet empty planet stands the risk of shattering abruptly.\n\n\"Scout 04, can you hear me?\"\n\n\"I repeat, can you hear me?\"\n\nHowever, hearing this voice in her ears again hardened her resolve in a way she didn't think possible\n\n\"For fucks sake Rose, I know you are still alive. This thing shitty old transmitter can at least certify that you have a pulse so don't play dead with me.\"\n\n\"Please, just say something\"\n\nA short silence. Dying alone would have been preferable to this. She forced herself to cough a few times.\n\n\"You got me, Abby. Still alive, for now\"\n\n\"Don't give me that. I didn't spend all of this time trying to re-establish communication with your crew only to have you dying on me. Tell me your status, your coordinates, and the condition of your ship, you know the drill. We'll send a rescue team your way and this will all be over\"\n\nShe knew it would happen, yet having to hear it hurt her all the same.\n\n\"I'm afraid this situation is different. The whole crew died, and I'll be joining them soon. There was probably something in the atmosphere, or some virus, I don't know what, but it has killed them and it will kill me. There is no point in sending more people to die here, just mark this planet off as a no go zone and let it end with only this. The risk in rescuing one half-dead woman is not worth it.\"\n\nShe made sure to sprinkle the occasional cough in her little speech, and made her voice sound raspier. She knew she sounded desperate, but she supposed anyone in that situation would be.\n\n\"Is that it? You know I can tell when you're lying through your teeth. Perhaps this disease of yours really did delude you enough to think that any excuse would keep me from finding a way to get you home.\"\n\nStubborn as always. \"Is it worth it though? You might not want me to die here but I'd probably be doing the rest of humanity a service by not bringing whatever this is back home with me.\" she realized eventually that all pretense of her not speaking normally had dropped.\n\n\"You underestimate both me and the safety measures we can employ in order to ensure that you can get here safely without putting anyone else at risk. You also don't understand that an opportunity like this is not something scientists would scoff at. Understanding just what it is that poses a danger to humanity on the planet you are on would be quite appealing to any of the top brass.\"\n\n\"You know, I thought that having to choose between dying here and coming back to Earth would be the toughest decision of my life. Seeing that I don't really have any choice in the matter is quite liberating.\" she said, giving up on any hope of swaying the decision of her lover.\n\n\"Took you a while. Now give me a report of what happened. We'll get you out of there within two weeks at most\"\n\n##########################\n\nUnfortunately I only ever get myself to write stories way too late in the night, so I can't proofread this story of mine right now. I'm sorry for all the mistakes that are definitely there.\n\nI'd really appreciate feedback about my writing though, if you've got any." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Your entire life you've barely managed to escape seemingly random near death experiences...until one day you catch a glimpse of a shadowy hand reaching for a knife. It's your shadow, and it doesn't know that you've seen it." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Death was not something that scared me. Many of my friends worry about their longevity and ultimate demise, yet I did not share their same fear. That is, until this week. Too many odd events have occurred, and I do not know what to make of them.\n\nTuesday started as normal as any other day. After cutting up fresh vegetables for my omelette, I brewed coffee, enjoyed my breakfast, and began the twenty minute walk to work. I neared the intersection, and peered at my phone, waiting for the crosswalk to change in my favor. I felt a sudden tug on my body, and looked up to see the had changed. Just as I was about to take a step, a car blew through the light, nearly hitting us pedestrians. At the time, I remember feeling lucky that I had not begun to walk yet, and continued on with the day as normal.\n\nIt wasn’t until Thursday that I began to have an eerie feeling. I decided to take the bus home after work. After a six minute ride, I had arrived at my stop. As I rose to exit the bus, I felt as if I was being weighed down. It took much more effort to walk than I would have ever anticipated, yet I still exited the bus. Later that night, as I was scrolling through Twitter, I saw news that the bus I had been on exploded on the way to the next stop. The driver had thought the bus would fit under an overpass, but it did not, igniting the gas tank on top of the bus, engulfing the vehicle in flames, and killing everyone on board.\n\nAfter reading this, I began to feel uneasy. Two near death experiences, both in the same week. Not only that, but both times, I had felt something impairing my body. I didn’t know what to make of it, but I knew something was not right.\n\nI woke up Friday with a sense of caution. I walked to the kitchen, eyes and mind alert, looking for anything suspicious. After opening the curtains in the living room, I began to make my usual breakfast. I cut up the fresh vegetables, and retrieved four eggs to begin my omelette. A sudden movement in my peripheral caught my eye. A…darkness began creeping along the countertop, and it seemed to be approaching the knife that I had just used. Quickly, I grabbed the knife and began using it to crack the eggs. The darkness retracted, and I realized that it was my shadow. Not only was I more confused, but now petrified, as it seemed as if my shadow was trying to kill me. I decided to call off work, close the blinds in my house, and stay there until I could figure out what to do.\n\nAfter hours of research, specifically pertaining to shadows, if they had a mind of their own, and why they would want to kill the person they are attached to, I had no answers. I was also famished, and decided to cook dinner. My plan was to only leave the hallway light on in my house. This way, the kitchen would be illuminated enough to cook, but not enough for my shadow to appear. Everything was going smoothly. I had prepared more vegetables, but as I turned to walk them to the stove, something drastic happened. My foot became caught on the corner of the barstool seated at the kitchen island, and I began to fall. As I reached out to grab something for stability, I hit the switch the operates the lights above the island. They flashed on, subsequently casting a shadow to my right. From the ground, I saw darkness scurry across the countertop and grab the knife. The shadow forces the knife in my direction, and it plunges into my stomach. Laying there dying, the shadow retracts towards me. As I fade into black, I hear three words.\n\n“You’ll understand soon.”\n\nFrom black, I am lurched into light. Bright light. Blinding light. I can only see in a haze, and it is taking my eyes minutes to adjust. Once they do, I see a woman, one that I had never met before. She is directly to my left, and walking down the street, just as I am. She raises her right arm, looks at her watch, then scratches her ear. I mirror her exact movements, and at this moment, two things dawn on me. One, I am now attached to this woman, and given what I had just seen, I infer that I am her shadow. And two, there’s only one way for me to get out of this situation, and I can guarantee she is not going to like it." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: You're a vampire. Every year on Halloween kids try to brave your house at night. You're actually a wonderful host, but always make them promise not to tell." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Julian sighs as he watches the group at his gate whisper to each other. The lights were off, save for a flickering hurricane lantern on the table on his porch. He’d fallen in love with the old craftsman when he saw it. Abandoned and left for dead. He snorts as one of the children breaks from the group running down the street towards the lights of autumn fair. That was one.\n\nThe stories were rampant throughout the neighborhood. An unknown person buys the most dilapidated house on the market. They blinked in shock, day after day as the house came back to life. Shattered windows were replaced overnight. The yard torn up, a beautiful night blooming garden spilling over the shined wrought iron fence. No one ever heard a sound. He prides himself on that. It was a wonderful prank, a silent house restoration. Not that hard to pull off either. Even when the Christy family next door set up a webcam. One does tend to find hobbies when they're immortal.\n\nA ghost house restored to life overnight where no one ever answered the door and no one ever saw who lived there. At least that was the prevalent story going around town right now. Carlos the butcher kept him up on gossip and blood. There was something to be said for those small town quality butchers.\n\nTwo more children break from the group running hand in hand through the alley across the street. Looks like the twins weren’t quite brave enough this year. Oh well. There was a rumor that one could only meet the host of the house on Halloween. Only if they were brave enough. The adults laughed. But the children ate it up. There were always a handful that loitered at his gate. He frowned. Usually, at least one makes it past the gate. Maybe not to the door but past the gate. It was getting late, the fair would end soon.\n\nHe honestly needed better hobbies. An immortal vampire squinting out his window at a group of children in costumes… He’s an old man now. This proves it. Just waiting for kids to step on his lawn. Julian stretches and turns, scattering cats in his wake. He ignores the complaints to go stare into his fridge. Empty. Same as yesterday. He sighs and scratches under his chin. The shadows by his gate have scattered. No takers this year then. Maybe he can go to bed early. He stops in his hallway to bare his teeth at the empty mirror. Maybe it’s time he finally learned how to make cloth or something.\n\nHis gate whispers as it opens, and the clang it makes when it shuts makes him leap up to the second story landing to peek out the window. Oh, well, that was a very tiny witch and a very scared young Jason, complete with plastic machete.\n\nThe boy squeaks when the lanterns on the porch flicker to life. “Okay Evie, this was great. We can go now.”\n\n“Candy.” The tiny witch says and her tone brooked no argument.\n\nJulian grins as she walks past the gravestones that line the path. Real stone. The adults had marveled that morning. Definitely siblings. New to town thougth. The house on Pine had sold last month and the paperwork did say family. Time enough to move in but time enough to hear the ghost stories?\n\n“Evie! No ones home!” Her brother is trying not to shriek as she stomps up the stairs with all the gleaming naivety of the young. Julian skids down to the foyer, a whispering shadow.\n\nThe house has a knocker and the witch manages to lift it slightly with both arms before dropping it onto the door. It makes a sound that it shouldn’t make. A deep boom as the door silently swings open, the lights in the hall flickering to life. The boy is ready to climb the fence but his sister blinks, “Oooooh, pretty.”\n\nHe’s been collecting Halloween decorations since the 40’s, lovingly restored and the inside of the house shone with streamers and bats. Metallic streamers wave in the breeze from outside and a dozen grinning jack o’ lantern faces greet them from the stairs. Young Jason has no idea what to make of it.\n\n“No one lives here...” He murmurs but Evie has spotted the treats table.\n\nBaking was one of his vices. He couldn’t actually eat but ugh, that stupid british baking show. Please, who doesn’t know what an arlette is? The table is piled high in pumpkin turnovers and halfs of apples covered in glittering red candy. A dozen black cupcakes crowned in royal icing and violets lay upon a bed of spun sugar. Cinnamon sugar cookies litter the table telling the story of Dracula in miniature sugar paintings. Bowls are fulled of candied almonds, tufts of merengue, and brilliantly colored turkish delight. Tiny animals made of fondant cavort among the treats.\n\nJulian grins at the tableau before him. Young Jason is pale, looking in every corner of the house. He’s older. He’s heard of Hansel and Gretel. All the terrors of the world that can creep up on a lad. He is a boy calculating his demise despite the evidence before him. His sister though, Evie steps forward once, twice, her witch hat a perfect ironed point. She’s carrying a plastic cauldron, halfway full. She inspects the table with a critical eye before gently picking up a fondant doe. Her brother’s mouth drops open in horror as she shoves the whole thing in her mouth with a candy smashed grin.\n\n“Evie!” Her brother hisses.\n\n“Trick or treat! Trick or treat! Trick or treat!” Evie yells and all the decorations in the house shiver. A moan escapes from deep within the house and Young Jason has had enough.\n\nJulian shoves his fist in his mouth so he doesn’t laugh. Oh the poor lad! Evie is a beautiful monster though, shoveling as many sweets and goods as she can get into her cauldron before her brother bodily picks her up and runs out the door.\n\n“Thhaaannnk yooou!” She yells as he carries her down the sidewalk and through the swinging gate. The door shuts at they cross the sidewalk and her brother shouts in fright as all the lights in the house suddenly go out. Evie laughs in delight as he carries her back to the fair.\n\nYoung Jason won’t be back next year. He’ll spread that story like wildfire. Adding in who knows what. Julian grins, a good portion of that table is gone and his night's work is over. He locks the doors and the gate. He feeds the cats and crawls into his coffin with a notebook writing down his thoughts. The moan could have been too much. Maybe just the sound of footstep upstairs? He won’t let Vlad and his stupid poltergeist schtick take first place this decade.\n\nIt was true that Young Jason wouldn’t be back next year. But Evie? She was going to spread a very different kind of ghost story." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1300-1400 words. Prompt: You are the last of your kind. Which means everything went exactly as planned." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Moro stood with his hands on the railing in front of him, looking at the world for one last time. It was beautiful, mesmerising. Strong. When they first arrived here many showed their happiness, talked about how closely it resembled their homeworld. How close it came to being just as good.\n\nThey were wrong, Moro thought. This world was far better than their homeworld ever was. Far more beautiful. He groaned under his breath as a thought from those early days jumped to the front of his mind. He remembered how even then, in shock and awe of this world, he felt they had threaded somewhere they shouldn't have. That they were out of place.\n\nOf course, he never shared that thought, no. The other Omillie would have ridiculed him. None would have even considered his opinion about moving on after all those years in the cold darkness of space. They would have torn him limb from limb before getting back onto that much hated and despised spaceship.\n\nBut none of that mattered anymore. In the end, Moro had fixed what his kind had broken. Gently dusted away the clumsy footprints they had left behind. Slowly but surely he had erased all signs that the Omillie had ever been here. With a few loose ends left to clean up, but he would soon attend to those.\n\nHe hadn't done all of that alone though, no that would have been just too much work. Over time he had found others, that shared his thoughts, his feelings. His disgust with what they were doing. And just like him, they all had felt different when they first came here. To such a pristine, virgin world. To walk all over it and dirty it with their technology and progress.\n\nHe had felt again, urges to act, once his kind started to kill off large numbers of the indigenous lifeforms. Primitive and animalistic, but life nonetheless. When he brought up the various moral codes and accords his kind made before they left, they ridiculed him. They hated him, almost shunned him. They asked him how he could even think about choosing some lowly lifeform over that of his kin.\n\nHe had said that his mind would always be with his brothers and sisters, that he would always strive to do the best for them. But that he also was true to the brothers and sisters that came before him, true to their thoughts, their dreams, their wishes. And reminded all of them that they once swore to hold high their views.\n\nMost of them discarded him, ignored him. But some had listened, some had nodded in agreement. Some joined him after that, talking about the path of their kin. About what they should do.\n\nBut it wasn't for years to come until they would finally act. It wasn't until his kind started their next abomination, in name of progress, that he and those who thought alike set in motion the plan that they had thought about for so long. At first, he thought they had done something beautiful, in creating the humans. A lifeform vaguely in their own image, a great step in bringing back beauty to this world. But then he watched in horror how they enslaved them, kept them at low levels of intellect and culled them to eat them, to feast on their meat, their marrow and their organs.\n\nTruly, his kind had found decadence of the likes he'd never thought to see in the universe. And it disgusted him.\n\nIt didn't take long. The plan had long been finished. Precautions had been taken, preliminary steps made. Everything had been in place for years now, the only thing they had lacked, was the intent. And now they had found it. And once they finally set it all in motion, it happened so perfectly. So fast. So efficient. Exactly as they had planned it.\n\nThe humans were released, the cells opened, the slaughterhouses emptied. At the same time, his likeminded brothers and sisters took up arms, accessed terminals and tried to distract the others. Some fell to resistance, but most went smoothly. The Omillie quickly took the places of the humans, in the cells, the slaughterhouses and the pens.\n\nIn their never ending journey of progress, his kind had automated almost anything. From breeding the humans up to delivering the cooked meat on their plate. And now they were all being slaughtered by their own machinations. Once a zone had finished processing the Omillie, Moro and his ensured the whole zone was disposed of. The modular build of their city zones made it very easy to do that. Every zone was made out of the remains of the old drop pods from the space ship. Gigantic platforms equipped with thrusters and engines. All they had to do was punch in new coordinates and set them off. And in a matter of moments, a whole city zone would be launched directly at the sun.\n\nClean. Quick. And efficient, just as they would have it. Moro's lips curled into a grin as he thought of this. A sad grin.\n\nAfter only two rotations most of the Omillie had been removed. As well as any fo the traces they had left. And now only a few had been left. His like minded brothers and sisters had been gone for a while now. They all had sacrificed themselves, according to their plan. So that Moro could make use of them later. His mind wandered to them, especially to Aziq, her beautiful eyes had mesmerised him from the first moment he had seen them. He missed her dearly and the hurt he felt when he thought of her made him almost regret all of this.\n\nAlmost.\n\nHe was woken up from his reminiscing by the moans, groans and screaming of the last few of his kind. He looked up at the large, metallic, tear drop shaped machine. It floated in front of him, a few hundred meters further away. The shiny metal reflecting the last rays of sunlight. This was the last of the automated slaughterhouses, holding the lost of his kind. He watched in silence as they got slaughtered, begging to him for their lives. Pleading. Swearing. Accusing.\n\nBut no matter what word they would shout, thought they would throw at him. He was like iron, he did not move. Nor did his intent. And when the last of them died, he pushed the button and the slaughterhouse took off, towards an active volcano nearby. The magma and lava would be able to melt away any traces. Even if it would take years.\n\nWith a deep sigh he threw a last glance at the world, then he entered the small spaceship. He walked passed the great, blue, bright orb, contained in a metal frame. In it, the essence of his brothers and sisters remained. At least those that shared his thoughts. They would remain there, to advise him, to stand by him. And to give him energy, on their journey among the stars.\n\nOmillie had long lifespans, at least compared to that of the humans, or the lifeforms that were already present on the world. But they were finite, time came for them eventually as well. After a few thousand years, as they would be counted on this world one day, an Omillie would start their phase of regression, an inevitable path to death.\n\nBut Moro was still young, only a thousand and five years. Barely old enough to know of both the old world and the new world. Well, the new old world that is. And with the life essence of all his comrades, he would be able to live thousands upon thousands more. Plenty of time to find a new world. Plenty of time to discover the galaxy and unearth all of its secrets.\n\nPlenty of time to let the humans develop and one day come back, and tell them all about their origins. And about the twenty Omillie that saved all of them.\n\nWith a sad smile and a rolling tear Moro pushed a single button. And with force his ship departed." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: \"Son, it's time to tell you about the birds and the bees. They're everywhere. They rule the skies. Here's a gun.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "On the island of Miragulku, the groundhogs, who are called Miragupp, live in a burrow underground. The Burrow is an incredible sprawling lattice of caves and tunnels, supported by marble pillars carved with images of ancient Miragupp heroes and kings. The Burrow receives light in two ways. At night, it is illuminated by endless rows of kerosene braziers, each dutifully lit by one of the schoolgirls after being dismissed from class. During the day, sunlight penetrates through the Sacred Skylight in the ceiling of Gupp Hall, and is then reflected off twelve thousand mirrors all over the Burrow, carefully angled to brighten every crevasse of the market and school and barracks and courthouse, and to nourish the many gardens of turnips and mushrooms that are so essential to feeding the community.\n\nThe reason the Miragupp live underground is due to the fact that the island to which they are native is also populated by two other intelligent races: the Mirayik, who are bumblebees that rule the trees, and the Mirathae, who most closely resemble the kestrel, and whose dominion is the cliff. Though certain legends and well known songs tell of a time when the three races of Miragulku lived in harmony, this is a lie, as the Burrow, the Hive, and the Nest have almost always been at war in one way or another over extremely complicated ancient debts and blood feuds. In fact, the reason the groundhogs built their home underground in the first place was as a line of defense against their airborne enemies.\n\nDue to the precarious nature of their community, Miragupp culture largely revolves around the warrior class. When they come of age, the young male groundhogs, with their new long claws and strong front teeth, are invited by their fathers to scale the walls of Gupp Hall, reach the Sacred Skylight for the first time, and poke their head above the soil, seeing the grass and sand and tasting the salty, fresh air. Each father then tells his son that he must complete a rite of passage to be embraced by the groundhogs as a full citizen of the Burrow: he must go out, onto the surface, and he must kill either five bumblebees or one kestrel. To complete this task, he is given a shield, a net, and either a .45 caliber revolver or a lever action 12 gauge shotgun, forged by the world famous Miragupp gunsmiths.\n\nThe young Miragupp then climb out of the Sacred Skylight and quickly scurry to hide themselves in the bushes (though which are sometimes rigged with venom canisters by the Mirayik). If a Miragupp is too slow, he is liable to get snatched up by the sharp talons of a swooping Mirathae, who will then taunt him, usually by shouting cruel racial epithets, as he carries the wriggling rodent back to the Nest. However, if a Miragupp is careful, he can usually find a long enough break in the air patrols to dig out a small trench for himself and a few friends, where they can wait until they have a chance to fire a carefully timed shot at their enemies. In the end, not all groundhogs return to the Burrow, but those who do are greeted as champions, receiving gifts of ginger root, dandelions, and offers of marriage from the fathers of Miragupp maidens.\n\nWhile it is assumed that any groundhog who does not return has been killed or captured, this is not always the case. Sometimes, as a groundhog and bumblebee and kestrel swipe and spit venom and fire at each other, they will suddenly make eye contact. \"Before today, did you know I was your enemy?\" one of the Mirae will ask, and of course, both of his combatants will say they did not. Sometimes, an especially brave groundhog will throw down his gun, prompting the bumblebees to drop their venom darts and the kestrel to fold up his wings. The various Mirae will catch their breath and then look out across the horizon, past the white sand of Miragulku Beach, and there they will see another island, not too far in the distance. They will agree that this distant island represents a kind of hope that the idea of murdering each other never could. The kestrel will pick up the groundhog, though very gently, and it will lead the bumblebees across the water, to make a new home, together, and in peace." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: \"And yet here you are, hands stained black with the blood of the people you couldn't save.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Aden walked through the doors of the cities castle, a castle he too once lived in. He walked with a slight limp, an injury he had picked up while he was away. At the age of only 23, he had seen more in 7 years than the average solider would their entire lives. His thick blonde hair now accompanied with long streaks of grey hairs, something else he had collected while he was ways away. He wore a pristine black, long sleeved shirt. He was gifted it when he walked through the gates of his kingdom, on his waist, he wore a black leather belt, his hand crafted sword resting in its hilt. Only 30 minutes earlier, Aden had bathed in warm water for the first time since he was 16, his beard had also been cut and prettied up, as for his hair. He now looked sharp, sophisticated almost, if you were too look past the deep scars that lined his face, he could pass as the pretty prince he once was 7 years ago.\n\nAden looked at the castles grand structure. When he had left, the castle had been practically burned to the ground. His father and sister in it. And as he pointed his view at the throne room, he saw her.\n\n“Hello Aden.”\n\nAden froze. His cheeks went red, his eyes watered. It was his first time seeing her in years, but his love for her flared more powerful than ever. He ran, ran so fast his limp disappeared, ran so fast he felt as if he stopped, he would break his legs. And he ran until he stood face to face in front of her.\n\nHe stared into her eyes, her soul. She looked good for 23, much better than him that is. She had a deep blue dress, which complimented her thin structure, and her pale skin. He gazed up her dress, and back onto her face. Her blue eyes matched the blue of her dress, and the gentle smirk she wore hadn’t changed in the years he was away. A top her head wore a crown....a crown.\n\n“Your highness.” Aden fell to his knees, bowing down his head to the kingdoms leader. He tried to hide his confusion, where was his mother?\n\n“Aden please. Stand up, your embarrassing yourself.”\n\nAden chuckled, and stood to face Lisa once again. She looked him up and down, and Aden couldn’t help but think she looked rather sad.\n\n“Gaurds. Please excuse us.”\n\nAden hadn’t even realized that there were other people present, but as soon as he noticed them, they were gone. Leaving Lisa and Aden alone.\n\nAden looked back at Lisa “I don’t even know what to say-“\n\nBefore he could finish whatever foolish thing he was going to say, Lisa grabbed his face, and pushed her lips against his. Aden pushed back, his cracked lips connected with hers perfectly, just as they had years before.\n\nWhen Lisa pushed away, Aden felt empty, he wanted more, he wanted her. But Lisa simply started to Walk down the castles huge corridors, Aden, still flustered, rushed to catch up with her. He would quickly match her pace, and she would place her hand amongst his forearm, it felt all too familiar. Aden liked that.\n\nThe two walked through the castles gardens, Aden gazed at the flowers, they were beautiful.\n\n“The kingdom looks beautiful Lisa. How did you repair it so quickly?”\n\nLisa gazed over at Aden’s scarred face. Her warm eyes now turned a bit colder, as if a small wave of sadness washed over her.\n\n“We didn’t repair it quickly Aden, you just failed to return home to see it all.”\n\nAden looked away to the floor.\n\n“Lisa we both know I had to leave.”\n\nLisa scoffed, “No you didn’t Aden. You could’ve stayed with me Aden. You could’ve stayed with me and we could’ve repaired the kingdom together.”\n\nAden sighed, “can we please talk about something else?”\n\nLisa rolled her eyes, “Fine, what do you want to talk about Aden.”\n\nAden’s face brightened a bit, “my mother, where is my mother?”\n\nLisa froze, her face went cold.\n\n“No...no one told you Aden?”\n\nA wave of fear washed over Aden, “tell me what?”\n\n“Your mother passed three years ago, she fell ill, we sent out letters to your legion, we begged for you to return-“\n\n“I was on a mission Lisa! I couldn’t just return home!”\n\nLisa ripped her hand away from Aden’s grip, “A mission?! Aden you had been away for 4 years at that point! Your mother waited for you! I waited for you!”\n\nAden’s eyes flared with immense anger, “I had to avenge my father Lisa!”\n\n“Your father is dead Aden! And now your mother is too! And yet here you are, hair grey, face scarred, and hands black with the blood of the people you couldn’t save!”\n\nAden froze, his posture limp, and his stance uneven.\n\nLisa’s voice broke, and tears rolled down her face, “I loved you Aden! I loved you and you left! And now you’re back and you’re as lost as you were 7 years ago!”\n\nLisa turned, and walked away. Leaving Aden feeling awfully alone in a kingdom that was once his." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: I know, and I'm sorry." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Knuckles met teeth and the earth rushed up at me, the sidewalk making a harsh bed. The mugger had come around the corner, hand in his pocket, head down and face low.\n\nNo time to think about that now. I try to get up, try desperately to find several precious seconds of freedom so that I can grasp what is actually happening, but he jumps on me and delivers another blow to my cheek. This time my ears ring and I can see white little dots all around me. The sky, stars hidden by the city lights, now had its stars back.\n\nI lash out violently and connect with something soft. He grunts and backs up but only for a moment, because now he's coming back in for another round of stargazing. He swings at me and I duck my head and swing wildly, trying desperately to make contact with flesh. His swing glances off of my shoulder and I try to lean into him, trying out of fear and desperation to grab him and pull him down with me.\n\nI don't remember what happened next. Several panicked seconds or minutes of heavy breathing and painful grunts. The sound of flesh hitting flesh, then flesh hitting concrete. Suddenly it was all over and I sat, hands to my sides on the cold concrete with the mugger laying beside me.\n\nI thought he was dead, at first, but then he opened his eyes and chuckled bitterly. \"You got me, man. Never thought it would happen like this.\"\n\nI wiped blood and sweat from my brow and tried to speak, but nausea was starting to take form in the bottom of my belly.\n\nHe coughed and blood seeped out of the corner of his mouth. \"I can't move. I can't move my toes.\" He laughed again.\n\nI looked around trying to find somebody--anybody that could help, someone that could bring the reality of the situation back to me. I turned back to the mugger and watched him, myself able but unwilling to move. \"Why?\"\n\nHe looked at me, an essay of confusion signed with blood written across his face. \"I think I fell on top of something.\"\n\n\"No, why did you try to mug me?\" The adrenaline was beginning to wear off and the nausea was coming on even stronger. I could still see hints of white stars and my vision was blurry.\n\nHe chuckled again, a low raspy laugh that bode well for none. \"Well, that one is easy... I needed the money. Why else would I mug you?\"\n\nI looked down at myself, my left hand wet with blood and my right throbbing with pain. Sweat and blood was beginning to find its way into my left eye and I wiped at it again. \"Jokes on you...\" Blood began to drip from my nose. \"I don't have any money.\"\n\nHe looked at me for several seconds, his eyes glazed over, his mind somewhere else. He blinked and then focused back on me. \"Well, ain't that just somethin'?\"\n\nWe sat for several moments, both lost in our thoughts. I was still trying to process what had happened, why I was still sitting on the concrete next to my would-be mugger, and why I was talking to him. I didn't know why, but that didn't seem to matter. Somewhere a door slammed and bottles rattled and plastic rustled as somebody threw their garbage into a metal can.\n\n\"Do me a favor, will you?\" His voice was slow and quiet.\n\nI tried to move again but vomit rose up and I put a hand over my mouth. It went away and I looked over at him. \"What do you want?\"\n\nHis eyelids were fluttering, like he was trying desperately to fly away. \"Call me an ambulance...\"\n\nI sat and thought about it, trying to process what he had said. My brain wasn't working right. Then I nodded and moved to get up. This opened the floodgate and vomit shot out of my mouth and hit the man, covering his chest and face.\n\nHe screamed, first out of shock or disgust, then out of pain. \"Oh, god, you threw up on me, you threw up on me!\" He shook his head violently, blood and vomit flying everywhere, his voice was horse and desperate. \"You threw up on me, man!\"\n\nOn all fours now, I looked up and shook my head. \"I know, and I'm sorry.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: In an effort to keep your store tidy and theft-free, you've created an enchantment that teleports the merchandise EXACTLY where it belongs whenever necessary. You just didn't count on the merchandise having its own definition of \"where it belongs\"... or \"necessary.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“What the--” The girl in a hoodie mumbled. She clutched her backpack, looked over both shoulders, and rushed out. Her “haul”, a box of chocolates, landed on the candy shelf. “Another day, another loss prevented”, I thought.\n\nHow did it come to this? Well, the market for Magickal Sciences is pretty bad. The recession doesn’t help either, so I applied to Loyal’s, the local supermarket, and was fortunate to land this job. Loss prevention, restocking, I do it all. I’m thankful. Things could be worse.\n\nI saw a middle-aged man, and wished I could stop the enchantment. But alas: his jacket opened, and from it flew a bag of milk, which landed in the refrigerator. I could see a tear in his eye. Then I averted my gaze.\n\nThere was much else to do: the shipments never stopped. The magick made things easier, but we still had to carry the boxes, account and unpack them. My enchantment would put everything in its place, but our labor was as necessary as ever. The rice, beans, packets of cookies and boxes of tea, would all fly into their shelves, but they certainly didn’t grow there!\n\nHowever… there was one day in which I questioned the use of my magick, and my own sanity.\n\n“Gotta-Have-It!”, the sign on the crates said. “What’s this thing?” the foreman asked.\n\nRita, my supervisor, shrugged. “It’s an express delivery. From some company in the capital. It’s all I know”. From a distance, the crates seemed to shake: after unloading them, they clearly did. Despite their shaking, we took them to their aisle. “...’Appliances section’? What even are these things?” Rita asked.\n\nI drew my boxcutter. “Let’s find out”.\n\nAs soon as I opened the box, the goods started to fly. Red packets, the size of a brick, with “Gotta-have-it!” printed in yellow letters. However, instead of landing on their shelves, by the blenders and sandwich makers, they took off!\n\n“Is this normal?” Rita asked. “It’s not!” Those things, the Gotta-Have-Its, dove inside the customer’s carts and baskets: shattering egg cartons, scaring the customers, and digging into their groceries. The other boxes didn’t wait for my boxcutter: they opened by themselves, sending packs of Gotta-Have-Its to the air.\n\n“What are those things, anyway?” An old woman asked, as the Gotta-Have-It shaked inside her cart. She tried to take it out, but the Gotta-Have-It shook out of her hand, and dove back into the cart. “A ‘Gotta-Have-It’?”\n\nI tried to figure what to do, how to dispel the magick, perhaps. Rita looked at the shipment’s notes. “Five cents? That’s all it costs?” I looked up, and saw a large sign: “Today’s Deal: Gotta-Have-It - 5¢!” And so said the PA system: “Gotta-Have-Its, five cents only, only today!”\n\nThe old lady mumbled. “For that price, maybe I ‘Gotta-Have-It’!” She then walked to the registers. The customers, all with their Gotta-Have-Its, continued their shopping.\n\n“Y’know”, said Rita. “I’ll get one too. For that price, you Gotta-Have-It!”.\n\nThat night, I updated my resume." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: Our whole lives we have been taught that the four horsemen of the apocalypse were evil, and would be sent to kill us. Now that the apocalypse is here nobody stopped to consider that they might fight FOR us." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Secretary-General Louis Lefebvre had been raised a Catholic, by very devout parents. As a child, he had read the Bible many times, both by choice and by force. Much to his parents’ dismay, he had never been as engrossed with the word of God as they had wished, however. But, as a young boy full of imagination, some passages had stuck in his mind. None so much as those concerning the Apocalypse.\n\nLouis had never expected to live through the apocalypse, though. And when Armageddon arrived, it was nothing close to his boyhood imaginings. But when the large metal spheres descended upon the Earth, and when they fired upon the delegations of men who tried to contact them, when cities burned and billions died, then Louis knew the end of days had arrived. He had been en route to his New York office, trying to broker peace between warring factions in some conflict everyone had forgotten by now. One of the spheres appeared above the city, as they had above every city. Had he arrived on time, he would have been vaporised along with everyone else in the Big Apple. And in London. And Paris. And Istanbul. And Tokyo. And Shanghai. And Lagos. And Rio. And every other major population centre on Earth.\n\nBy sheer luck - or divine providence - he had been spared. Watching the flames lick the cities which had been the engines of the planet, he was convinced that the End Times had come. Out of the spheres of death poured countless creatures, who began taking swift control of the ruined cities and their surrounds. They had come to stay, it seemed like. Louis, as one of the few high ranking officials left on the entire planet, was determined to make that as hard as possible. Billions had died in the attack, but millions remained. They were still humans, and come hell or high water - or the apocalypse - they would fight.\n\nThe invaders were taken aback by the response. They had not expected resistance, it seemed like. But the people of Earth fought tooth and nail to save their planet, with everything they had. With guns and with knives, with bombs and traps, with tanks and horses\n\nLefebvre had never ridden a horse before. Fuel and vehicle scarcity forced him to learn. A few weeks after the initial strike, he had hidden in the Appalachians with a group of resistance fighters. A group of Is had ventured into the mountains to search for them, when they decided to make the first strike. It exceeded their wildest expectations. They charged in on horseback, with guns, swords and bows, in the middle of the night. The Is were taken by surprise, and died almost without a fight. The first man to charge was a bowman on a white horse, and Lefebvre thought back to the Bible for the first time in many years as he remembered a passage: “I looked, and there was a white horse, and its rider had a bow. He was given a crown, and he rode forth victorious to further his victories.”\n\nMore attacks followed, and it became clear that the Is could not extend themselves beyond where their spheres could protect them. As they destroyed group after group of Invaders, they noticed a change in behaviour, as the Is seemed less sure of themselves, and spies even reported internal quarrels. What had seemed like an easy victory had turned into a long war, where thousands of them died. And during one of the attacks, Lefebvre once again thought back on scripture, as the sword of humanity made war unto the Invaders: “Another horse came out, a red one. Its rider was given power to take peace away from the earth, so that people would slaughter one another. And he was given a huge sword.”\n\nWhile humanity temporarily stopped the Is from gaining ground, they could not push them back entirely, as their spheres protected them. But along came winter, and then spring and summer and autumn and winter again, and the Is were still stuck in the cities. And cities could not grow food.While humanity thrived in the countryside, more Is fell to famine than to the weapons of men. And Lefebvre remembered: “When he broke open the third seal, I heard the third living creature cry out, ‘Come forward.’ I looked, and there was a black horse, and its rider held a scale in his hand. I heard what seemed to be a voice in the midst of the four living creatures. It said, ‘A ration of wheat costs a day’s pay, and three rations of barley cost a day’s pay. But do not damage the olive oil or the wine.’”\n\nTwo years after the Invaders had first arrived, they still persisted. For all humanity's struggles, they still kept coming. For every ten killed in a raid, a hundred more appeared. For every hundred killed in battle, a thousand more seemed to take up arms. For every thousand dying of famine, ten thousand descended from the spheres. For all their victories, humanity was losing. There were simply too few humans, and too many Is. But they were not about to give up. Lefebvre was not about to give up. They might no longer be the masters of Earth, but they were not about to let anyone else be either.\n\nLefebvre, on a pale horse, led a small group to a desolate structure on the plains. As he descended down into the ground, he thought back to Scripture yet again, and to the fourth passage. As a boy, he had never expected the horsemen of the apocalypse to fight by his side, but by now, he had seen three of them. He made his way into the underground structure, legs shaking. A man held out a button before him. Louis raised his hand… and paused. He looked around the room, and the sullen, war-torn faces around him. With a trembling finger he pressed down on the button. As rocket engines fired up around them, he muttered:\n\n“Now I am become Death, the destroyed of worlds”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: You are a young deity that wins 2nd place in a science fair. Your entry was the planet Earth. Write about your utter disbelief at what came 1st." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "After a hesitant pause, I pressed \"Delete\". Just like that, another universe gone. This was my fifth attempt, the first few universes failing to produce anything interesting. But this one... I was so sure this one would finally make my father notice me.\n\nI'm a middle child. I know, I know, typical middle child syndrome, cue sad trombone. Even in my simulation it seemed to exist; it's probably some fundamental axiom of existence that any middle child will be completely ignored. My younger sister is the one that can do no wrong, and pretty much all our teachers agree. My older brother is the heir to the kingdom, so to speak. He's pretty much guaranteed to be our next leader, but I thought I could at least beat him. People like him, but he's not exactly smart. Perfect for leadership. Me, well, I'm just your average programmer. My father \"builds things with his hands\", and doesn't really appreciate the subtlety of building things with your mind.\n\nAnyway, I spent hours setting up the initial conditions for my final experiment, tweaking some of the global variables in my simulation. Starting up the program, it looked almost as dire as the previous four simulations, but finally I saw some results on one planet. Cell life, some basic evolutionary processes. I sped some things up here and there to help guide things along, but within a few days I finally achieved something like sentience. I made a few runtime tweaks to the simulation and before too long I had some basic civilization running. They thought they were alive, and I even convinced them they looked like us!\n\nIt wasn't the first time I had generated sentience, but definitely the first time that life lasted this long. However, I couldn't keep the damn humans from killing each other as often as new ones were born. I tried just giving them some rules and punishments, using some basic political processes that civilization dictated to accomplish it, to no avail. Eventually I had to intervene a little bit for the good of the experiment. I was able to insert myself into a few key historical events, change a few variables to look like miracles, and bam - instant results. It didn't fix everything, but it helped a little bit.\n\nThe project took a lot out of me. I felt like a gardener with a hundred weeds per flower. For weeks I delicately maintained the simulation, tweaking history to allow for maximum growth. I'd grow enamored with a nation for some time, giving them some additional capabilities and such until they bored me, and then watching them collapse. It was pretty fun, but tiring work. There were actually a few individual lifeforms I'd follow in some detail, even considering downloading their mind construct to the body of a pet for me to keep, but eventually decided against it. There would be other simulations later with even better minds to consider keeping around.\n\nThe worst part was the hackers. Other kids at school found out about my project and before too long I was dealing with tons of different religions and the humans in my sim were even calling some of my peers by name! Loki and Odin were the worst. It took me days to undo some of the damage everyone caused, but even then my simulation was beyond completely fixing. People now were actually killing each other over which \"god\" they believed in. I had already calculated it would take a few days for them to reach complete global unification, but it was all ruined.\n\nWith the science fair rapidly approaching, I had to do something to make this interesting for the judges. After all, other simulations existed with much more advanced civilizations, but this one was probably the best one a fifteen year old had accomplished, so I still had a shot. I tweaked a few more variables that started a downward spiral. It didn't take long for some humans in the sim to see the signs of the end coming. Some of them welcomed it (oops, I guess that \"eternal life\" talk carried a bit too much weight). Some of them tried to prevent it. Others just caused chaos.\n\nIn the end, I presented an Earth in which the global citizenry had banded together to solve all the problems that were destroying them. It was impressive. Before, they had managed to tweak individual variables through things like \"doctors\" and even societal variables through \"lawyers\" and \"politicians\", but finally there were some actual scientists who were running the show, tweaking variables that involved a more global perspective. Maybe a future experiment could even result in physicists who tweaked variables of the entire simulation!\n\nI paused the sim and put together a good presentation about my findings. I showed how a much less evolved civilization benefitted from gathering actual scientific data and putting together a plan for the betterment of the entire planet. I felt our own society could learn from this, and maybe put some smart people in charge for a change. I knew most of the judges would be science teachers, and was playing to the audience a bit. This would surely beat the other kids.\n\nHow was I to know that my sister was going to enter for extra credit? Freaking paper-mache volcano. I told you she can do no wrong." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Leave nothing to chance. Leave nothing standing. Leave no one alive." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He clutched the amulet tightly, his mind a ragged torrent of confusion, his breath heavy and labored. He decided to get a grip on the situation and remember his training.\n\nHe was surprised at how easy it was. The Mage's Guild trainers were very thorough. A strict regiment of specific drills meant to turn a novice into a competent arcane weapon in service to the Guild in only a year. \"The main rule, of course,\" the Professor had said in the large lecture hall, \"is leave nothing to chance.\" It was the very first lesson of the very first day.\n\n\"They are dangerous. They are clever. They are powerful. Use the Mind-Link Ring you get issued to contact the Guild for assistance. The code will never be denied. You will always receive support. We leave nothing to chance.\" he had assured the class.\n\nHe looked the amulet over for a moment, an accursed thing of black and green, decorated with an ornately carved skull. He didn't even have to scan it. It was obvious. He had learned about items exactly like this one. What they were for, who usually made them, and why. The timing was just too convenient.\n\nJames had invited him for dinner. A simple fair, now that things has settled back down. The crazy days were done, and now life was all just perfect again. He could come eat dinner with James, and his wife Lilah, and their daughter Susannah, Gods bless her. Her ordeal was over now. She was safe. She made it through. The accident that had laid her up at home for months was behind them now, and they could get back to normal, everyday life, when he wasn't at the Guild Hall.\n\nHe had to make his way back to the main rooms now, or they would become suspicious. He had to get up. He had to get back. Slowly he made his way through the house. James had grown up in that house, and to an extent, so had he. The best of friends, they were inseperable when they were boys. He could still recall where he had chipped a tooth on the table in the hall, and where they used to build forts with blankets and pillows. He was saying goodbye, in his own way.\n\n\"Secondly,\" the memory of the Professor continued in his head, \"leave nothing standing. Never know what they may have hidden, what may be trapped, and so on. Best to level the place, be done with it. Not one stick of furniture remaining. not one stone of a foundation in place. Say it with me. Leave nothing standing.\"\n\n\"Leave nothing...\" he had begun to say, when she came around the corner.\n\n\"What are you doing, Uncle Dustin?\" the little girl inquired, her bright eyes shining with intelligence and mirth.\n\n\"Hm? Nothing, Susannah. Just thinking about something.\" The girl was eleven winters old now, almost ready to begin an apprenticeship. She would make a fine mage, he considered.\n\n\"Is it important Mage Guild stuff? Like secrets and things?\" she asked with an excitement to her voice.\n\n\"Yeah, sweetie, something like that. Why don't you get back to you daddy now, okay? I'll be along shortly.\" he replied, giving the amulet a mall squeeze in his hand. As he did, the girl seemed to lose a bit of her focus, and become slightly dazed. It was only as he loosened his grip that she regained her composure, and was able to respond.\n\n\"Okay! Don't be too long, it's almost time for pie! Momma made apple today!\"\n\nHe brought the Ring up to his head as the girl skipped away. The codes wer simple, direct, and clear. Code 100. Full response. On this signal. In the end, he was surprised how easy it was. Even here, in a friend's home, the training did its work.\n\n\"The most important rule when dealing with Necromancers,\" the Professor finished, \"Is to leave no one alive. Any one in the house of a Necromancer, or where Necromancy is used, is tainted. They are unclean. We must eradicate this blight from our world.You find a Necromancer, you use the Ring, you call for reinforcements, you destroy everything and everyone." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: The Orgasmadrive is a new fuel-efficient power supply for starships. Using the power of pleasure and orgasms to fuel the ship is a lot more effective than one might think. With access to this new technology, crew members may just become the 'engine'." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Captain Maya took a swig of her energy drink, a thick, pink substance that mixed together juices from the fruit of the bountiful jungle planet Xylar, the very addictive fluids of a tentacle monster she had a run in with a while back, and a bit of store-brand aphrodisiac to form her own, special fuel. Given that the one major drawback to the Orgasmadrive was the inability to store large quantities of the fuel it produced, it was important to have a little something to always be in the mood to power your ship. But besides that one kink in the system, it truly was a revolutionary device.\n\nThe captain would be the first to admit that she had many skeptical questions about the drive when she'd first heard about it. Like how does \"pleasure energy\" that the device advertised result in fuel? And the fact that 100% of customers ended up satisfied with the product? That seemed like a classic scam to her. But here she was, one of those customers now, ready to begin fueling her ship once again.\n\nNormally, she'd leave the Orgasmadrive to the work of her two ship-hands Ruby and Sapphire, a pair of inseparable twins who the captain had picked up for a bargain price at an auction on Niika. Aptly named based on their hair colors, both of them were usually quite energetic, but at the moment they laid sprawled together on a mattress, passed out in each-other's arms after an exhausting day of work. Maya probably only needed to use one of them as bait for the tentacle monster so the captain could farm its fluids, now that she thought about it, but either way she was the only one in condition to do it now.\n\nThe application of the device was pretty simple. You connect the wired receiving ends to your body's erogenous zones, and you start stimulating them. A few different connection methods were available, basic ones being simple sticky patches leaving you to do all the work, or you could pick up one of the many unique add-ons and modifications. Some versions vibrated, some could clamp on, some would deliberately deny a climax to maximize pleasure energy if that was your type of thing. And supposedly wireless jewelry was in development, but Maya imagined the cost of it would be steep.\n\nShe stared into the abyss of outer space, the reflection in the ship's window slowly undressing as the captain's stares turned from the stars to her pale skin. Smiling, she hooked herself up to the drive, wincing in a pleasurable pain as the device clamped around each stiffened nipple, already beginning to tease her with the slightest of vibrations. She took a moment to massage her chest, letting out quiet grunts and moans when she could just find the right spot to tease herself, often around each sensitive nipple that was already overwhelmed with stimulation.\n\nThe vibrations of the clamps began to pick up, so she prepared the vaginal device. Much less painful, it acted as a simple vibrator, but a powerful one as it got going. Everything had been timed perfectly for the captain's pre-fueling ritual. She took another dose of her aphrodisiac concoction, the first one starting to kick in as she felt the rising heat in her body, the need to kick the vibrators up a notch, as they began to absorb the very energy she produced from this pleasure. The captain laid her back flat on a mattress, her hands ferociously attacking either the pinched nipples that demanded relief of any kind, or to assist the vibrator that buzzed away inside her relentlessly, using the swirling of her fingers around it for just that extra bit of sensation she could give herself.\n\nHer back involuntarily arched itself back, her eyes rolling up as an intense wave of pleasure came over her. She was so close, just a little bit more, desperate for any last jolt of stimulation to push her over the edge..!\n\nMaya's finger found the right place in her body, and that was all she needed to release. It was impossible to contain her moans in that moment, that moment of pure bliss, where every worry faded away in the unmatchable pleasure brought to her! Her body crumbled back down into the mattress, as she took heavy breathes to regain her composure. She didn't have a good look at the meter from here, but that should certainly be enough for a night's trip to Aasymr. Though weak, her right hand reached to unclip herself from the device when-\n\nA hand, soft with fingernails painted blue stopped her. It grasped around her wrist, holding it in the air for a moment before pushing it back down to the mattress's warm embrace, a stark contrast from the coolness of both the air surrounding the captain and the hand that put it there.\n\n\"Uh... Sapphire?\" The captain realized that her noise may have awoken her crew, and a glance to the side of the woman standing over her confirmed that Ruby was circling around. But Sapphire began to descend immediately on her captain, resting each of her knees next to the captain's shoulders, holding her body just above Maya's. This put the blue haired lady's chest just above the captains head, which the captain realized was also connected to the drive. A devious smile began to form on Sapphire's face.\n\nThey weren't usually this assertive. Not in a way that was so blatantly sexual, unless Maya asked them to be so.\n\n...They didn't drink the aphrodisiac did they? Maya had left it right next to their bed, but if they did-\n\nSapphire interrupted the captain's thoughts by planting a kiss on Maya's lips, her hands finding their way around Maya's head to begin caressing her long, black hair as her body began to sink into the captain's. Their bodies became parallel to one another, with the light, cobalt girl passionately throwing herself at her captain, shifting and turning her body so it could rub against Maya's. The vibrations around eachother's nipples only amplified one another, as the captain struggled to push herself away from the woman. Her mind screamed out that she was exhausted, they already had enough energy, but her body--her body pushed onwards." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You're in the middle of the ocean, thousands of miles from land, when you hear screaming coming from beneath the waves" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Brandy, you're a fine girl. What a good wife you would be. Yeah, your eyes could steal a sailor from the sea.”\n\nRiver hummed along to the song as it played on his ship. It was just him and his two mates, Teddy and Johnathan. They must’ve made this trip about a hundred times. Twice a year they went out on a fishing trip.\n\nIt was nice to get away from it all, the stress of work and responsibilities. It was just them and the ocean.\n\nIt was 5:36 and unsurprisingly Teddy and Johnathan weren’t up yet. That was fine though, River would’ve been lying if he said he didn’t like the alone time.\n\nIt was so relaxing he swore he could go to sleep...and hell, he almost did, until he heard that scream. Holy fuck that scream.\n\nRiver jolted, eyes snapping open and fishing pole falling from his hand, hitting the side of the boat and falling into the ocean. “Shit, shit, shit- fuck. No-“ He quickly leaned across the side to grab the pole but it was far too late. “Damn it-“ He furrowed his eyebrows. That fishing pole was fucking expensive.\n\nHe had almost forgotten about the screaming until it happened again, making him jolt for a second time and stumble away from the boat edge and the water.\n\nHe would’ve called out to Teddy and Johnathan but it wasn’t them- it couldn’t be. This scream was female and it was coming...fuck, was it coming from the ocean?\n\nNo, that wasn’t possible...was it?\n\nRiver swallowed thickly and sure, it would’ve been smart not to go to the edge and go speak with his friends but like every main character in a horror movie he didn’t do the smart thing. The screaming got louder and River got closer to the boats edge.\n\n“Oh fuck- ohhh fuck.” River’s voice wavered. He swallowed hard as he grabbed the boat edge and peered into the water, squinting.\n\nHe couldn’t see anything at first but the longer he squinted and stared he could slowly start to make out a shape in the water. It looked like the stereotypical body shape of a woman, squirming around and that’s what the screaming was coming from.\n\nHow did a woman get lost in the ocean like this? There was no other ship around and even if there was it would’ve been long gone by now and be woman shouldn’t be alive- hell, he shouldn’t be able to hear those screams so loud and fucking clear.\n\nRiver snapped out of his thoughts and even if this wasn’t logical, all he was thinking was that this woman was drowning, she needed help. Without thinking he jumped off the boat into the water, it was almost as if he were under a spell.\n\nHe swam fast towards the woman, though he couldn’t make out details just yet he could still see the body shape and no sign of clothing, so she was completely naked. It was definitely a woman and she was struggling. He swam as fast as he could, heart pounding in his chest.\n\nAs he got closer he could slowly make out what she looked like- and he got closer and closer, the woman’s back turned to him. When he was close enough to touch her, he reached out and grabbed her shoulder, turning her around.\n\nHer face was rotted. She had no eyes, cut up lips and no nose- and it was only then River noticed that her skin was...almost fucking black. Her entire body was rotted skin along with patches of missing skin. She had bite marks and cuts all along her body and her stomach...had something black through it?\n\nIt was then he noticed that the tail-like thing through her stomach was coming out of her, long and attached to something else in the distance. Something behind him.\n\nHe was too terrified to even try and move away. All he could do was follow that tail to its owner. He couldn’t even see the creature properly before it got to him, screaming while it charged at him. The scream was so human like. So terrifying.\n\nHe was gone in seconds.\n\nThe ocean was quiet again.\n\nAnd the creature had a new decoy to use." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: In an alternate universe, each individual is granted a superpower when they turn 18. The catch is that they could not wish for a superpower that already exists. Your superpower is the ability to change your power at any time, and as a wanted person, you find creative ways to evade the law." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Red and blue lights flashed in front of Kevin, his foot never leaving the accelerator. The roar from the engine made people on the street turn and look. The flashing lights grew larger with every passing second. The whip of the wind through the sunroof chilled him to the bone. Reaching over to the passenger seat, Kevin unhooked the seatbelt with one hand and grab his gym bag with the other. Those red and blue lights were on top of him, it would have to be now. Unhooking his own seatbelt, Kevin, focused all of his power and energy and directed it through his legs. The next thing he knew he had leapt through the sunroof and above the buildings which towered over everyone else. The familiar sounds of metal on metal filled the air as Kevin chanced a look down, only to see a mess of broken bumpers and shards of glass. The wind seemed to batter against his body as his heart, still now used to the super jumping, begged him to return to the ground.\n\nThen as gravity started to do its thing and Kevin started to fall back towards the concrete, he focused his energy from his legs to his back. The falling stopped immediately and now he floated, high above the cities skyscrapers. Looking around, he picked out one that had no lights on, the Turner Bank building. Kevin laughed at the irony as he landed gently on the roof. From here he could see the whole city. Every light, every building. Sirens filled the air as grey dots of birds took to the sky, twirling around and around before disappearing back into the darkness of the night.\n\n“That was close.” sighed Kevin, taking a seat on the edge of the building. Finally, it felt like he could safely decompress from the lively day he just had. He could feel the stress and the anxiety seeped from his body like poison. Closing his eyes, images of frighten bank employees still filled his head. Those scared eyes, like the eyes of children, would probably never leave him. He could feel the points on his fingertips where the fire had come from. The smell of that woman’s burning hair as her co-workers tried to put her out. It would stain his nostrils for man a lifetime.\n\nSlowly, he pulled his box of cigarettes from his pocket, his jeans a little too tight to do it easily. He pulled on out, one he had rolled that morning, and put eh box back in his pocket. Looking up, from his height, he could see so many more stars than normal. Great big white ones she had never seen before, a small one that looked like it was tinged orange and another that seemed surrounded by a purple hue. Such beauty, he had never seen before and might never see again.\n\nFocusing his energy once again, a small flame burst from the end of his index finger. Lighting his cigarette, the smoke drifting in the city air and quickly became lost. This continued on for the next few minutes, breathing in the smoke, then breathing it out. When it was done, he flicked his cigarette over the edge, watching the little red dot fall and fall until he couldn’t see it anymore.\n\n“Don’t move.” a voice screamed out. “I have a gun.” The hairs on Kevin’s neck stood up, as he tried turning to look at who the voice belongs to.\n\n“Don’t turn. I never said to turn.” the voice screamed, as the static from a walkie talkie announced to Kevin that this was another cop. “Officer Brundy here. I have cornered the suspect. Top of the Turner Bank building. He is unarmed and has the bag with him.” Through the static, a voice came but Kevin was too far away to make out what was being said.\n\n“We can help each other,” Kevin called out to the man behind him. “It doesn’t have to be like this.” Slowly, Kevin reached into the bag and pulled out a wad of cash.\n\n“I said don’t move.” Officer Brundy screamed but Kevin didn’t listen. He slowly got to his feet and turned, cash still in hand. Officer Brundy was just like Kevin had imagined him. A balding fat man, with a giant brown moustache whose fat spilt out over his belt.\n\n“Here take it,” Kevin said, throwing the money at the policeman’s feet. Was it confusion or desire that crept across the officers face Kevin wondered. Then as Officer Brundy bent down to pick up the money, Kevin made a grab for his bag and focused his energy once again on his back. Officer Brundy was quicker to react than Kevin might have guessed but still not quick enough.\n\nKevin had jumped just a second too fast for him and the bullet only sank into the concrete roof of the bank. Kevin fell, fell and fell. The wind rushed past him as he dove for the ground, headfirst. Then right before he was about to land, he simply lifted his feet up and, as gentle as a feather, he landed on the ground. He allowed himself a brief smile as he crossed the street. Not a bad 18th birthday." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1400-1500 words. Prompt: When you die, you get to read a long, boring list of how many times someone else had ever thought about you, crushed on you, talked behind your back, missed you... and well, some other unmentionable things might be in there too." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Dead. Never thought that it’d happen to me. Well...I never thought it would happen to me this young, rather. I always thought I’d die an old woman surrounded by her 17 cats and watching The Price is Right reruns. Possibly complaining about the old days with Bobby Barker. But, hey, an aneurysm while walking to work before I turned 30 is as dignified as can be, I suppose. As far as I’m concerned though, I shouldn’t worry about it. Despite the fact that I left a loving family and many great friends behind, I realize that no amount of wishing on either of our ends can bring me back. I may not be suffering, but they sure are. It just feels wrong that I’ve left them and can’t do anything to ease their pain.\n\nTo be honest, that shouldn’t have been at the front of my mind at the moment. Walking through those pearly gates in the sky, St. Peter handed me a rolled scroll, which was tied delicately with a golden ribbon. couldn’t pay it any mind if I even wanted to. I was too wrapped up in just the beauty of the afterlife. More so the people than anything else. Their cheeks were rosy and their grins were wide, as if someone cut them from ear to ear. Both young and old alike, they were all dressed in, what I could only assume, her fine silken robes, adorned with golden bracelets and necklaces, their feet bare. Looking down at myself, I noticed that I, too, was dressed in a similar manner. I guess that should have been expected.\n\nAfter what seemed like a lifetime, my mind finally wandered back to the scroll handed to me upon entry. With a sigh, I began to sit down where I stood, only to find a small bench appear below my backside. Despite my confusion, I didn’t question it. I still had much to learn about this place, after all. Throwing a leg over the other, I rested the scroll in my lap as I untied the ribbon as gently as I could. Something as simple was still immensely beautiful. And beauty should always be preserved.\n\nThe scroll rolled out, cascading over my leg and onto the cloudy ground at my feet. It rolled farther away, probably a few yards or so. I blinked as its perceived length betrayed me. Steeling myself, I picked it up and proceeded to read the first line, seeing as how I would be here for a while, so I might as well get started. The first line was a seemingly arbitrary date. However, I did notice that it predated my birthday by several months. Next to the date was my mother’s name, followed by a statement in quotation marks. “My darling child...” I felt my brow furrow in confusion before I began to read on.\n\nLine by line, the format followed suit. A date, a person’s name and whatever that comment wanted to be. From what I could gather, it was when and who a person thought about me. Whether it was my grandmother thinking she had the smartest granddaughter in the world, to little Molly Evans cursing me in her four year old head because I had gotten two turns on the slide when she had only gotten one. It was intriguing at first. I could finally knew exactly how everybody thought about me before I died. Possibly after I died, too. It was Heaven, truth be told. Literally anything could happen and I wouldn’t bat an eye.\n\nI read on and on, people passing me by as they gave me knowing looks. I suppose they all received the same scroll upon their entrances, as well. Some comments made me smile, some made me frown and quite a few made me feel like crying. It had made me realize exactly how much I left behind. Not just dreams or aspirations. Not just smiles to give and tears to cry. I left behind the amount of smiles I would give to my loved ones. I left behind an infinite amount of opportunities to help them wipe their own tears away. I heaved a heavy sigh. No matter how bad I wanted to, it seems that Eric Clapton’s hit was absolutely right. No tears stained my cheeks, now that I was in the eternal paradise of Heaven.\n\nDespite how much it hurt, I had to keep reading. My internal sorrow didn’t last long, since I was starting to get into my teenage years. Which meant that boyhood crushes and wet dreams about me were ahead. My laughter bubbled out of my lips with each of these comments. A few of the owners to those thoughts were still friends of mine to this day, and knowing them now I would never have guessed that they used to be this awkward. Halfway through my teenager years, around when I turned 16, I was stopped in my tracks by a particular comment. It wasn’t exceptionally lewd or remarkable by any means. It was the person who thought it that caught me off guard.\n\nLena Hanson. “Holy shit. I’m glad I get to sit next to this looker all period long...” Lena was one of my best friends throughout my junior and senior years of high school and we even kept very close to each other after the fact. I introduced her to the boyfriends I attained and eventually lost. At least once a week we were together. And for hours, at that.\n\nIt wasn’t unlike her to compliment me on my looks or what have you. It was more so the way it was presented. She seemed earnest. Like she truly meant it. But on a deeper level than just...mere friendliness. The more I read on, Lena’s name became a staple. Through junior and senior year, not only did her thoughts about me become more frequent, but also more personal. Instead of thinking about my looks, she commented on my personality. How much courage I had. The way my laughing sounded like a bird chirping away into a sunny, summer sky. Eventually, I had learned that it wasn’t just boys that had awkward dreams about people they fancy.\n\nI was taken aback by this. A friendship lasting almost 13 years, and I never noticed this? All of my women friends and I could always tell when a guy liked them. However, I think I was starting to get exactly how a man feels when trying to deduce whether a girl likes him. The notes are more subtle, the idiosyncrasies much harder to pick out. But looking back, all of the complimenting, the way her body became warm when I hugged her, the unnecessary gifts and the constant invitations to hang out with her were taking a much deeper meaning to me.\n\nThis trend continued even past high school. Into our college years, through all of the crappy and not so crappy jobs we held after the fact. No matter what, she was always the name that was emblazoned on the paper every two or three names. Her thoughts never changed about me. Her dreams had never ceased, even if she didn’t dream most of the times she had the word “pleasure” on the mind. My fists clenched the scroll tighter as I realized that even if I left a few broken hearts back down on Earth, one of the friends I had loved so dearly would have a life filled with ‘what ifs’ instead of ‘oh wells.’\n\nAnd I trailed her along. Without even meaning to. By treating her like all of my other women friends, by hugging her and kissing her on the cheek to show affection, I tortured her. She didn’t want to bone me one night and then move on. She wasn’t looking for a spring fling or a chance to experiment. She was saving herself for me, even if her hope seemed dimmer than the burning embers of a snuffed out candle. She loved me, not for the beauty of my face and body, but also for the beauty within my heart. For the eyes that were truly the windows to my soul. She loved me because she knew that she could spend the rest of her life with me. And now she would have to deal with the fact that she would never get to see me smile again." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 900-1000 words. Prompt: In the distant future, advanced students of biology are tasked with designing a new life form from scratch as their \"living thesis\". Projects from each year are assessed on their overall fitness by placing them on a lush but uncolonized planet and observing their progress." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Explain yourself.”\n\n“It was an accident, I didn’t know that--”\n\n“Do you think finding suitable planets for life is easy? Cheap? Fun, for anybody? Rhetorical. And no, it isn’t, in case you need it spelled out.” Mentor made an exasperated gesture. “You’re going to tell me, right now and in great detail, exactly how a cataclysmic planetary event is allowed to transpire without my knowledge.”\n\nMentor paused briefly, observing the planet’s slow death on the viewport, but continued before Student could speak. “In my estimation, it comes down to defiance, negligence, or pure stupidity. Your above-average performance to this point is the only reason I’m allowing you to explain yourself, rather than banning you from the University outright.”\n\nThe viewport faded as Mentor turned to Student. “What were your Prime Directives?”\n\n“The Prime Directives are tendencies imparted via genetic manipulation, designed to guide the evolutionary path of life as we deem fit. They are a Student’s primary tool for--”\n\n“Not the Prime Directives, your Prime Directives! To what rules did you enslave those damned beings?”\n\n“Yes. Sorry. First, I made them a tribal-like species. Second, I gave them an exceedingly short generation cycle and an overcapacity for breeding. I wanted to see if the tribal mentality could persist in an increasing population, and to what degree it would scale.”\n\n“Interesting idea, but derivative research at best. I could name a few similar projects. Continue.”\n\n“I’m familiar with some of those projects, too. But I wanted my project to stand out, to be unique. I gave them advanced, but unperfected communication abilities, and the capability for abstract thought.”\n\nMentor’s expression was unreadable. “That’s a dangerous decision. Granting a species the ability to abstract opens up a high degree of instability.”\n\n“I know, but with my side-studies on Psychology and Philosophy, I expected--”\n\n“Stop. Who gave you permission to act out of the bounds of Biology?”\n\nStudent gave no answer for this.\n\n“How did you affect their psyche?”\n\nStudent hesitated. “I… I needed them to be ambitious. I wanted them to achieve as much as they could before the Assessment. I made them greedy, even. They were the kind of species who claimed ownership over resources, deprived those outside the tribe.” Student’s grief was apparent. “I knew it was dangerous, but I thought it could be controlled. I thought that if I gave them empathy, they wouldn’t annihilate themselves.”\n\n“And yet, they did.”\n\n“They did. Yes, they did.”\n\nMentor let the tension hang for a few seconds. Then, “There’s something else. You know it, and I know it. But you need to say it, you need to name the final, damning piece of this. Prime Directives are complicated, and we could discuss Frameworks and Logistics all day, but you still need to name the crucial component. Go on.”\n\n“You were right. It always comes down to happiness; every life follows the path that makes them happiest. I wanted to disprove that. I thought it was flawed, that the right combination of attributes and tendencies could push life to overcome the desire for joy. In ambition, I hoped the greater good could persist. In empathy, I hoped caring for one another, maintaining the tribe, would be a stronger pull than self-satisfaction. I was wrong.”\n\nStudent made a defeated gesture. “So, I allowed them to feel happiness. But I rooted that happiness in ambition. Each felt happiest when it seemed their own, individual lives were improving. It quickly got out of control. They started making untenable sacrifices in the name of so-called progress. The lives of hundreds would be improved at the cost of millions. They squabbled over the planet’s natural resources, and as those dwindled, they began to invent abstract resources, and fought over those as well. It was chaos and violence on a level I’ve never witnessed, in any of the lifeforms I’ve studied.”\n\nStudent regarded the blank viewport for a long moment. “I’m so sorry this ever happened. The amount of suffering I caused here is inexcusable, and I will take full responsibility for--”\n\n“Enough. Your methods here were unorthodox, and you requested consult from neither myself nor the Higher Echelons. Of course, we have all thoroughly reviewed your final reports. You have failed this planet, and tragically so. Knowing this, would you change your actions?”\n\nStudent’s answer was resolute. “No. It’s done now. I have completed my research, and I will publish it with as much notoriety as I can muster, such that a catastrophe like this will never be repeated.”\n\n“Good answer. I can see that the results of your experiment trouble you. That’s a good sign, shows that you now understand the line between ‘I can’ and ‘I should’. Few of your age truly see that.”\n\nMentor began to interact with the room’s terminal. “I’m going to advise the Higher Echelons against your banning. A failure of this magnitude is nontrivial, and I cannot guarantee anything, but I believe your premise to be solid. The Theory of Happiness exists only because it has not been disproven. If you were to invalidate that theory, then a new, more accurate theory could arise from it. That is science in its truest form.”\n\n“Th- Thank you.”\n\nMentor continued with the terminal, not responding. Student took this as a sign that the meeting had just come to a close, and turned to leave, when Mentor asked, “What did they call themselves?”\n\n“Excuse me?”\n\n“The species you doomed. What did they call themselves?”\n\n“Humanity.”\n\n“Humanity… Remember that name. It will serve as a reminder of the mistakes we make, and the risks we run, as we play God in our attempts to better understand the universe.”\n\n“I will do that. Thank you.”\n\n“And one more thing, now that my curiosity has gotten the better of me. Your report is light on the details of their destruction.” Mentor turned to face Student. “How did they destroy themselves?”\n\n“They learned to split an atom. It all went to hell after that.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Two dark lords run into each other at the local supermarket, both of them buying suppiles to kill the hero. They're shocked when they find the Hero's Mage also buying stuff to kill the hero, his reason being quite...petty, but almost funny." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Excuse me young lady,” said the unusually tall man in what could only be described as a ‘cloak’.\n\n“Where would I find the edibles to tempt little dogs?”, he continued when the bespectacled girl in the green apron turned to him.\n\n“Sure! Treats are on aisle 6,” said the girl with her hands in her jeans pockets, “go halfway up, you should see them on the right.”\n\n“Wonderful!” exclaimed the tall man, “Amazing! These ‘Super markets’ are truly wonderfully convenient!”\n\nHe began walking to aisle 6 when he stopped abruptly, slapped his palm to his forehead and exclaimed, “Oh! I forgot! I also need the roots and herbs! I knew I should have gone to the forest first!”\n\n“Aisle 4, spices and herbs!” Called out the cheerful girl in the green apron from behind him.\n\nThe tall man whipped around, “Really! Herbs and roots in the same place as animal catching equipment! Astounding!”\n\nThe girl peered up at the man over her spectacles for a moment. Finding no way to respond appropriately, she simply shrugged her shoulders and turned back to her counter.\n\nThe tall man slumped his shoulders. He felt a little dejected having elicited no response from what he considered some of his finest acting… “Obviously the girl was a commoner, a simple thing. She had no way of appreciating true art.” He grumbled to himself as he stomped off to aisle 4.\n\n“Really Morgan? Why do you still insist on doing that terrible act every time you go out for supplies?”, said a familiar voice from behind the tall man.\n\nThe tall Morgan turned slowly towards the other tall man, dressed in a cloak, “Well well… Owen? Is that really you? I heard that self-righteous Arthur finally got you. Unfortunately, he’s more incapable than I thought he was.” He didn’t know who he hated more. That stupid goody two shoes Arthur, who has been constantly ruining your plans. Or this idiot fan boy imitation of his, Owen who has been following so close on his heels he was afraid Owen might step on his shoes one day!\n\nThe two stepped menacingly at each other. “This will be the day I finally get rid of him,” they both thought. Dark tendrils of power curled of both of them. The halogen lights above them flickered. The shelves began shaking, the bottles of condiments rattling in their place…\n\n“Excuse me gents.” Said a soft voice between the two tall dark men glaring at each other.\n\n“Huh?”\n\n“What?”\n\nThe two formerly menacing men, now dazed and surprise, looked around at the sweet old man reaching between them.\n\n“Gavin!” yelped Morgan with surprise.\n\n“We were just…” mumbled Owen equally flummoxed.\n\n“Buying groceries! On to the chicken Owen! Come on!” Called Morgan in what he thought was an Oscar worthy performance of nonchalance and innocence.\n\n“Yes of course! The chicken!” repeated Owen. Striding after Morgan.\n\n“Are you both getting supplies to try and get rid of Arthur again?” asked Gavin conversationally.\n\nBoth tall men stopped in their tracks. They looked at each other nervously. How to respond when caught red handed by the hero’s Mage? He would surely strike them down here itself, in the middle of aisle 4 in the town super market! Unless… they thought of a good reason fast!\n\nBoth men turned as slowly as possible. Both thinking furiously about what they could say that could save them…\n\n“Well I have an idea,” said Gavin, interrupting the villains’’ thoughts, “You guys can help if you want…”\n\n“Huh?”\n\n“What?”\n\n‘This has to be my dumbest moment’ thought Morgan to himself, finally at a loss for words.\n\n“Wait…” said Owen incredulously, “You want to kill Arthur?”\n\n“Yes”\n\n“As in dead Arthur?”\n\n“Yup”\n\n“Deceased Arthur?”\n\n“Yes”\n\n“As in – “\n\n“Yes yes! Dead, Decease, Killed, you get the point!” Said Gavin exasperatedly. He looked at the shock and disbelief in the two other men’s faces and continued. “I’m sick of him! He’s team Jacob!”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: A ghost has a single means to interact with the living: by kicking them in the dick. He intends to have profound impact on the world." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Dr. Kevin Bruin.. Log Entry E72 --The Moment\n\n-\n\nTo whoever is investigating my dissaperance...In case I don't return.\n\nNo one knows when their turn will come. Although we quickly found ways to predict its movement and avoid it there is no stopping it. The worst attempts came under Marshall Law. The isolation periods were terrible. Short, yes but terrible. One of the iso-men once asked me if it was worse that everyone lived. Having to interact with the people we selfishly isolated. \"Would it have been best if the moment caused death instead?\" He asked. His eyes locked into mine. While mine were filled with panic and guilt his were peaceful. Why wouldn't they be? The moment had passed him. It hadn't passed me.\n\nThere are several rules we have identified corresponding to the moment. The first, it only affects men. Each and every man. Regardless of age. The second, its intent is not to kill. While deaths have occurred, usually on the very young or old, they can be prevented through medical intervention. Third, it affects men in singular basis. Meaning only one man can experience the moment at a time. There have been no reported cases of simultaneous experiences. Four, its movement is proximity based. The closer you are to someone experiencing the moment the more likely you are to be next. Five, it can't be contained by any physical barrier. The isolation of an infected area failed. Once the moment had gone through the male population in the isolation area it advanced outwards. Sixth, it is possible to out run it. It moves at speeds comparable to an average human. Finally, the experience itself is said to be incredibly painful.\n\nAs to where I went.\n\nI was asked what I thought the moment could be when I first started. I claimed something explainable! Observations, hypothesis, experiments, testing month after month. A virus, bacterium, parasite...mass hysteria none of it fit. There was no explanation. When people talked about aliens or god's punishment I laughed exclaiming science will find the answer. Eventually thou it seemed no answer was coming. I doubted for a while. I started to believe the extremists. Few people know this about me. However, there is one more rule that I choose to accept that others don't. Its sentient. And extinction is it's end game. As a man of science I can't be scared anymore. I must test my hypothesis. You will now understand why i'm missing. Men my age are less likely to survive but we can find the answer, science will prevail. I've performed an orchidectomy on myself. By the time you read this I should be within the moment's current spread. I wonder what people will think when they see a naked old man walking into the fire. Is he mad? A religious nut? No pun intended. If I succeed, which I believe I will, you will probably hear stories before I can make it back. Hence the log. Stories of a crazy old man whose faith made him immune to the moment. Well that will be so. Know that it was faith that triumphed. Faith in science.\n\nIf I don't return. Dan. Love always." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: You have a child with your SO, and the baby looks almost identical to you. Some strange gut feeling drives you to take a DNA test, and the baby isn't yours. In fact, this strange baby that came from your SO doesn't belong to either of you, and the DNA shown reveals the baby isn't even human." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Having walked across the shag carpet for the better part of an hour before deciding what to do, Peter turned mid-step and paced with a determined gait towards the baby, his baby, sitting up right in the corner of the cot.\n\n\"Listen I know you can understand me\" he said slowly and clearly\n\nNo reply reverberated back from his son, Linus.\n\n\"I told you that I know that you can understand me. I'm not playing around with you. You are two months old and you are sitting up right on your own. When you scrapped your knee last week you didn't bleed. I took a DNA test using your hair and it showed that you are not human. It showed that you are a mushroom. Now how that works I don't know.\"\n\nAfter a quite pause, during with Linus looked around the room and saw a month banging away at light bulb and a spider racing towards a fly stuck in its web. Linus gripped two of the bars of his cot and pulled himself up. His toothless mouth opened and a high pitched \"Fungi\" could be heard behind his laughter.\n\n\"What? Did you just say fungi? Did you just correct me?\" Peter hadn't noticed but his legs had given out and he had fallen on his ass. Now sitting, he looked Linus straight in the eyes and saw his mirror reflection bobble its pinkish hued head.\n\n\"So what are you?\"\n\n\"I am part of you. You created me. I am yours. I am the product of your mind, not your loins.\" He said whilst jumping and laughing in the cot. \"Could you please hand me my Tigger, daddy?\"\n\nWithout turning away from the his son/spore, he reached out behind himself and pawed among the toys that had been stacked like a pyramid by his wife and son the day before. On the third try he managed to find Tigger and gave it to Linus, who quickly set to work. Biting its ear and hugging it, kissing it and slapping it around the its wooden prison like a WWE wrestler.\n\n\"Are you telling me I'm crazy? That I am imagining you talking to me? You standing there?\"\n\n\"No, daddy. You manifested destiny into existence.\"\n\n\"What does that even mean?\"\n\n\"In college you started experimenting with 'shrooms, as you called it? Well, during one of your earlier journeys, you willed me into existence. In your mind of course, but your imagination was so real that the lines between reality and imagination blurred. You stepped beyond the space of time and existence, there in the barren wastelands of the ephemeral plain, you created that which could not be. On the day I was physically conceived, you and mommy decided to take \"some\" for old times sake. I meanwhile had remained on the beach that you created, I was quite alone when your renewed adventures raised a tidal wave from the sea that tore me from the mental and thrashed me into the physical that was mommy womb. Now being a imagined fungi or not, I still needed a place to live and the womb worked beautifully. My hyphae set to work and absorbed all the nutrients I needed. Your seed was also present, so absorbing it, I absorbed your form too. \"\n\n\"So you are imaginary real mushroom person that I created by having an active imagination whilst on psilocybin?\"\n\n\"Fungi. You took a mushroom, to create me but I am a fungi. Have you really forgotten all you learned from Mycology 101?\"\n\n\"So what are you. A yeast?\"\n\n\"I think I am the first of my kind. So I suppose I will decide what I am. Not that it matters right now.\"\n\n\"So what matters?\"\n\n\"Well you have to make sure mommy doesn't vaccinate me. You can claim it under religious reasons now apparently.\"\n\n\"Well I must be going mad. This can't be happening. I don't know what you are? Are you good? Evil? Whats your purpose?\"\n\n\"In short order. It is happening. I'm a fungi. I exist across a spectrum, much like yourself. With regards to purpose, you created me. You gave me my purpose, so why do you ask?\"\n\n\"What purpose did I give you?\"\n\n\"Control.\"\n\nPeter leaned in, so as to not miss another word \"Control? Over what?\"\n\n\"Oh over everything I suppose. Why nitpick. It is a purposeful existence you have provided me with.\"\n\n\"And how would that work?\"\n\n\"Well, as I exist between and on both plains of existence at the same time I can access both sides and bridging the gap if you will. Bringing into existence that which has and that which has never been. Don't worry nothing will happen to you daddy. You will prosper with me, just look around you.\"\n\nLooking around the room, it dawned on Peter that he had no memory of buying half of the toys there. Nor the bookcases. The TV had repaired itself, three weeks earlier. A creeping sensation of fear now crept up Peter's back.\n\n\"I don't want to control everything. The old me wanted to, but I don't. The mushrooms helped me leave all that behind.\"\n\n\"Only for so long. I'm back. You can't leave who you were behind. I'm always there.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Write a story that climaxes (thrillingly) with the phrase \"That'll be two pounds and twenty pence, please.\"." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Karen’s heart dropped as she entered the supermarket. She’d walked these aisles countless times, knew them like the back of her hand. And yet they seemed to mock her.\n\nShe clutched her folder of coupons under her arm and took a deep breath. This time, she was ready. A map had been drawn up, a bulletproof plan had been made. Karen would finally get into the elite Coupon Mums club. Nothing could break her now.\n\n“Karen… fancy seeing you here,” a voice snarled from in front of her, and she didn’t even need to look up to know exactly who it was.\n\n“Jessica Thomas. Look what the cat dragged in,” Karen laughed, sizing up her competition. Jessica had been her rival for months and managed to get into Coupon Mums last month by getting the lowest total. “Even now you’ve won, you still can’t get enough of me. Just ask me for my number if you like me so much.”\n\nShe turned red, huffing to pretend she wasn’t bothered. “Whatever, Karen. Hope you weren’t relying on toothpaste coupons to get in. I’ve swept the aisle.”\n\nKaren looked at her trolley, and she wasn’t lying - it overflowed with tubes of toothpaste, poking out of the gaps at the side like a weapon. “You wouldn’t,” she whispered, dashing over to the toothpaste aisle. And there it was - a gaping hole where Colgate should be.\n\n“No, no, no, no, no, no!” She shouted, ripping the coupon from her folder and tearing it into tiny shreds. “Fuck!”\n\nFor a moment, she felt like giving up. But she’d worked too hard to accept failure so soon. It was time to use her anger to win. It was time to unleash the beast.\n\n“MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!” She hollered, barging her trolley towards the cereal aisle. It was every man for themselves in this place. She had no time to show mercy to those in her way.\n\nLooks like Jessica never spotted the Weetabix coupons in the local paper… Karen cackled as she loaded up her trolley. Her son didn’t even like Weetabix, but it’s not about buying essentials. It’s about winning.\n\nOn to the next aisle. Biscuits. Dishwasher tablets. Washing powder. Bottled water. Deodorant. Crisps. Karen grabbed a shelf-stacker, getting him to push two of her trolleys. When she finally reached the till, it was with five trolleys in tow. She already felt like a champion.\n\n“Thank you for your service.” She bowed her head and shook the shelf-stacker’s hand. He smiled politely, wandering off, confused.\n\nThe cashier smiled at her. “Did you find everything you were looking for today?”\n\n“There’s no time for small talk. Scan.”\n\nHe accepted the challenge.\n\nPiles of groceries formed before her as he scanned at full speed, and she quickly shoved them back into the trolleys, preparing her coupons. She stacked them into her hands, ordered perfectly for maximum savings.\n\nShe handed them over. And now, she was powerless. Her job was done. All she could do was wait.\n\n“Four pounds and fifty pence, Karen!” Jessica shouted from another checkout. “Good luck beating that!”\n\nShe breathed, heartbeat timed to the bleep of each coupon scanning. The total became smaller and smaller. It felt as though the supermarket had fallen silent, all eyes on her. Bleep. Bleep. Bleep. Until it stopped.\n\nShe saw the total on the till screen, closing her eyes in elation. Her fist raised to the air, punching, and she let out a cry of victory. She pictured a crowd around her gathering, lifting her to the air, chanting her name. She pictured Jessica’s sour face, lips pursed in annoyance. Finally, she had won. She was a Coupon Mum.\n\n“That’ll be two pounds and twenty pence, please.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Virtual Reality combined with Time Distortion has allowed human beings to live a thousand virtual lifetimes. You have just woken up from your 999th, and are about to go one last time when you hear someone whisper in your ear..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jack awoke from his \"life\" in his well know black chair. Even though he had done it hundreds of times, he never quite got used to the sudden awakening, quickly followed by the sudden realisation and subsequent horror, that the life he had lived was indeed, a false one. But after his initial shock had settled, he started to remember where he was.\n\nSection 2ky79j B. That was the name of his section. It was like all the rest, black, seemingly endless, and entirely machine run. On both sides of him, he could see thousands and thousands of people, sitting in black chairs just as his, living lives just as the one he just had lived. They would all, once the life they currently was living ended, wake up in this section for 30 minutes, while their computer simulation rebooted. Jack had once woken up at the same time as another person, a man as far as jack recalled. He was just like jack, bony and extremely thin. a consequence of spending your entire life on your back. They had not talked, none of them really knowing how to talk outside of their computer simulations, and had both quietly waited for their simulation to reboot. Jack was thankful, that this time, it was just him, waiting.\n\n\"Watcha doing?\"\n\nJack had never heard anything with his real ears, other than the silent humming of the machines that surrounded him. But all of a sudden he heard a voice, like that of a child from his computer world. It was not soft, rather spikey in fact, and Jack's initial reaction was a shock which made his whole body spasm. Or, at least it tried. The muscles in his body was still paralysed from the drug the machines gave him, and Jack could not move, nor speak. Only his eyes was open, and they were terrified. A small girl, dressed in a nice blue summer dress, jumped forward from behind on of the other chairs around Jack. She had both her hands behind her back, and was smiling at Jack.\n\n\"You just out huh? Still Paralyzed?\"\n\nJack could not respond in any meaningful way, but the girl took his inaction as a sign of confirmation. She started giggling, while slowly walking around Jack's chair.\n\n\"You know, ever since my computer broke, i have been sooooooo lonely and bored. Nobody wanna talk, or play, or dance, or revolt or anything! They just sit there, like you, and play with their toys. Alone\"\n\nJacks screen told him there were 10 minutes till his simulation would be done rebooting. Jack started to select how his simulation should be now, using his brain-to-computer interface to adjust the amount of hot girls in his simulation to rather perverse heights. The girl could see all of this, and became still more displeased.\n\n\"So you just wanna play with yourself too huh?\" She sighed\n\n\"That's okay, i have my own toys\"\n\nShe slowly revealed what she had behind her back. Jack could just start to glimpse it in his peripheral. From behind her back, the girl revealed a large wrench, covered in black blood, still dripping down on the floor.\n\n\"Let's see if you splat like the others!\" She lifted the heavy tool, and then Jack was no more." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: She left out a tiny bottle with a tiny dropper and a note, \"Potion of bimbofication. Odorless, tasteless, and I'll try not to get mad if you end up using it on me too. Have fun, you perv...\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was never a question of \"if\" Dan would use it on his girlfriend Abi, and always more a case of \"when\". He had hidden the bottle away and not even mentioned it to her, though she knew he had definitely seen it. The anticipation was driving Abi crazy.\n\nMore time passed, and she began to wonder if Dan thought it was a joke. or if he'd tried to use it, and it simply hadn't worked. She resolved to ask him about it, but then it slipped her mind.\n\nBy the time her old friend Vicky had come to stay, Abi had all but forgotten about the potion.\n\nThat morning they were sharing a pot of tea together and catching up on things. Still in their pyjamas, the plan was to go get some breakfast and then to a gallery to see the latest exhibition. They didn't see each other often since they'd both graduated, and got jobs, but were still as close as ever.\n\nAbi took another sip of her tea, and frowned slightly. Her lips felt like they were stinging slightly. She gently brushed them with the tip of her finger, and they felt normal, but just somehow a bit tender? She thought she might be coming down with something, especially as her boobs suddenly started to feel sore and swollen. This was very odd.\n\nVicky winced, and started rubbing at her chest. Abi noticed, and asked if she was ok\n\n\"yeah I'm alright really... my boobs have just started to feel a bit weird... kind of sore I guess??\"\n\nAbi found herself giggling \"mine too\". Vicky started giggling too. It suddenly seemed quite funny.\n\n\"OMG, I think I might know whats happening\" Abi said, distantly aware that her accent was changing, but unable to do anything about it\n\n\"I think my boyfriend has, like, drugged us?\"\n\nVicky giggled again, playing with a lock of her hair \"OMG thats like so random\"\n\nAbi was studying for a PhD, but at that moment found herself unable to adequately or eloquently articulate her thoughts. All she could do was agree \"totes random!\"\n\nIt was then that Vicky pointed out that Abi's hair was \"like changing colour or whatever\", and when Abi glanced in the mirror she saw her hair slowly lightening up, turning blonde as she watched. Her lips and cheeks seemed so much plumper too. She snatched up her phone to snap some photos for Instagram. Abi didn't really even use Instagram, but she felt like she really wanted to. And maybe Snapchat. And then maybe drop out of her PhD.\n\nShe turned back to Vicky, who was now staring vacantly, blowing some bubble gum, her hair gone pastel pink.\n\nDan stood in the doorway watching, a sly grin on his face.\n\nAbi pouted \"I think you've played a mean twick on wittle Vicky and I\".\n\nHis arms folded across his chest, he smiled amiably. \"I can't believe it worked, especially with you both only getting half a dose.\"\n\nAbi's tits were straining uncomfortably at her pyjama top, and she no longer cared about the gallery or the exhibition. She just wanted Dan's cock. The buttons on her top gave way, and all she could do was giggle.\n\nVicky jumped up \"OMG Abz babe look at your bewbs\" grabbing them in both her hands. Vicky was still chewing that gum, smacking her lips and blowing bubbles as she fondled Abi's swollen tits. Vicky then peeled off her own nightie, and the two of them rubbed their heaving chests together, giggling naughtily.\n\nFluttering her long eyelashes at her friend, Abi said \"there's only one thing we can do now Vicky babes... we need cum, and lots of it\". The two of them giggled again. Everything was so funny this morning.\n\n\"oh no, where can we get some from?\" she put her finger in her mouth, as if that would somehow help her concentrate. They both stripped out of their remaining clothes, pausing only to take turns to admire how fat their bums had also become, taking turns to slap and spank each other as Dan watched.\n\nIt was time to get Dan involved too. Their big, soft tits bouncing as they rushed across the room to get him, before bringing him back to the sofa.\n\nVicky knelt alongside Dan on the sofa, folding her arms under her breats to hold them up so Dan could easy snuck them, as Abi knelt in front of him, wrapping her plump lips around the tip of his cock.\n\nNormally Abi wasn't a big fan of blowjobs, but now she wanted to do nothing else, taking Dan's cock as deep as she could. Looking up at him while he sucked her friends large, round nipples only made it better. This had been all she'd wanted from the potion, and more.\n\nAbi felt like all of the thoughts in her head had been scooped out, and somehow shoved into her tits instead. All she wanted to suck cock, have fun, and then maybe like get some frozen yoghurt later or whatever. Dan was groaning now, still playing with Vicky's swollen breasts, but enjoying the blowjob too much to do much else.\n\nVicky was feeling left out, pouting as she said \"I wanna suck Dan's cock too\". That sounded like fun to Abi, and so she patted the floor next to her. Dan was standing now, fucking first Vicky's mouth, and then Abi's, and then switching back, reaching down with his hands to fondle them both.\n\nAbi began to suck on Dan's balls while Vicky ran her tongue up and down the length of him, his hands in their hair as they did it. They switched to taking it in turns to lick his prick all over, and then began to rub him with their lips at the same time. Dan was really groaning now.\n\nSomewhere at the back of Abi's mind she knew he had to come in their mouths. It sound like fun, so she didn't mind, though the thought was quite insistent anyway.\n\nWhen Dan groaned that he was going to cum, Abi and Vicky put their faces together, tongues out and touching, fake moaning to encourage him to finish on them. Hot jets of cum sprayed over them both, in their hair and eyes, in their mouths. They began to kiss, licking every drop off each other, and sharing it with their cum-covered tongues.\n\nThey were still kissing and touching each other when Abi realised she was herself again. Her body had returned to it's slim shape, her lips no longer fat and plump, her hair it's normal colour. Vicky must've felt the same, as she pulled away from the kiss.\n\nWide-eyed and blushing, she asked \"wh-what happened??\"\n\nAbi smiled \"the cum was the antidote. He could've kept us like that forever if he hadn't cum on our faces\"\n\n\"oh\" said Vicky. She paused for a moment, looking thoughtful\n\n\"do you have any more?\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 700-800 words. Prompt: Among all the species in the galaxy, humans are unique in that they have more writing prompts about them being special than anyone else." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Imperial Galactic Archives are a masterpiece in themselves. Located in the centermost sector of the Empire's long reach, in a small rocky planet, they harbour the single largest physical collection of written works in the known universe. Constructed in a series of interconnected resplendent fortresses, their real treasure lies buried in a web of gigantic underground caves, home to written treasures untold. The magnificence of their architecture rivals that of the Imperial Palaces, and, despite not sharing the characteristic opulence of imperial residences, the content within the Archives' gilded walls is arguably of a far greater importance. Every galactic cycle, starships from publishing houses of every system in the galaxy bring copies of their books, manuscripts and other works, to be stored in perpetuity at the centre of the Galaxy's cultural diversity.\n\nImperial Librarian Fryllok Ghurda opened large double doors, encrusted with a myriad of shining minerals from the mines of Taller, and led the way to the Hall of Kinds. Behind him, a delegation of curious sociologists marvelled at the enormous extension of the room, lined with shelves as far as they could see. They had come from a distant university of some independent, allied planet, seeking to better understand the races and species which made the Empire, so they too could successfully ascend to the coveted imperial membership.\n\n\"We understand this room brings together the self-reflecting works of all the species in the Empire\", asked one of the scientists. \"Is that correct?\"\n\n\"Certainly\", said Fryllok. \"The act of reflecting on one's own condition, and that of one's species, is universal. This Hall harbours those thoughts which have been put into words. You are free to study any such work, and compare the difference in attitude that all our races have in regards to ourselves. Some of us are quite humble, others have ideas of grandeur, others still believe they mean absolutely nothing. The Empire is as diverse as it is vast.\"\n\n\"Fascinating\", said another scholar, his robes denoting him a specialist in theology, and soon they started their meticulous work, aided by the ever-helpful Fryllok Ghurda.\n\nEons later, the Librarian came to the call of the head of the delegation.\n\n\"Imperial Librarian Ghurda\", he said, \"we have searched the entire Hall, catalogued every species, but we seem to be lacking in our ability to find the works of the...\" he checked his notes, \"Humans. Do they not produce literary content?\"\n\n\"Oh, the humans. Yes, they do write; very much so, yes. Quite reasonsable storytellers, too, with immense imagination. We hold a sizeable collection of their fiction in a separate cave, if you wish to see it.\"\n\nThe sociologist shared a look with his colleagues.\n\n\"We appreciate the invitation, Librarian, but we were presently more interested in their self-reflecting works. What do they believe in exactly? Do they consider themselves superior, inferior, equal to their fellow species? In which fields do they excel, in which do they fail? We really must have all this information if we wish to succeed in our imperial application.\"\n\n\"Indeed, I should have warned you beforehand,\" said Fryllok, lowering his head in regret. \"We don't have those books here, I'm afraid.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" asked the scientist, suddenly getting exasperated, joined by protests from his fellow scholars. \"Did you not say these humans wrote, indeed even wrote imaginative fiction? Why can we not, then, find the self-conscious literature they surely produce?\"\n\n\"You see,\" answered the Librarian, \"the humans are a peculiar species, in that they consider themselves as being more special than any other race in the galaxy. Now, this is not out of the ordinary, many species share that belief, but the humans do it in a scale not found anywhere else. Their body of work on how special they are is so immense that we couldn't possibly accommodate it all in this Hall.\"\n\nThe scientist's exasperation gave way to keen interest, and his vocal tone transmitted nothing but pure excitement now.\n\n\"Ah, marvellous! Truly something to which to devote much of our study. Where can we find this collection, then? A larger cave, perhaps?\"\n\nFryllok looked at them nervously, not keen on disappointing the far-travelled delegation, before responding.\n\n\"Well, you see, the humans write so very much about how special they are. We... we could only find one place big enough for such a repository,\" he said, and the sociologists waited eagerly for the revelation.\n\n\"A... a whole new planet.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: In desperation, they opened the Ark." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Earth is a ruin.\n\nWe thought it would be climate change that kills is. Or famine. Or plague.\n\nWe didn't expect THEM.\n\nNo one knows who- or what- they really are, just that they appeared some time in the late twenty-first century with a single, driving goal.\n\nTo take over Earth.\n\nWell, humanity doesn't like that much. Turns out we're hard to kill off.\n\nWe fought back. Millions died. We kept fighting because we have billions more, and those billions are pissed.\n\nThe Others- that's what we call them, for lack of a real name- fought back, but they underestimated how fast we breed and how hard we fight.\n\nIt was a bitter, brutal war. Nowhere was safe. The political leaders died first- all of them within a week all the way down to the local mayors. They thought we would fall apart without them.\n\nWell, you already know they underestimated us. Humanity rallied. We fell back on our most bloodthirsty heritage. War-leaders popped up everywhere with strong people to take their places if they died.\n\nMany did.\n\nWe kept fighting.\n\nEight years into the war, the Others started to realize that they would have to kill every single human on Earth to take the planet. To the last, we weren't going to stand down.\n\nThat's when things went sideways.\n\nWe knew they were on a schedule. They hit us too fast to be anything else, so we weren't that surprised when their generation ships started to arrive.\n\nSome we destroyed. Others landed and turned into the newest fortresses for whatever pissed off band of humans swarmed it.\n\nThe Ark (we named it that because it looked like one. Like a huge, flying boat so big it could survive God's wrath) was different. For years, we watched it. Guarded it when we managed to take the land it sat in, fought for it when the Others took it back. We tried to get inside, but to no avail.\n\nFourteen years in and our newest generation was getting old enough to fight. Humanity boomed back and the Others lost huge numbers just trying to hold their position.\n\nEighteen years in, and they realized they were losing. That we could out breed them, out fight them, and weren't giving up. Were never going to give up. We would die to the last child before we ceded Earth to them.\n\nIn desperation, they opened the Ark.\n\nOur Pandora's box finally spilled her contents, and like Pandora, we tried to close it back up.\n\nIt was filled with monsters. Beasts from their world- their dimension- wherever they were from. They brought the creatures with them.\n\nMillions died. The tides turned. Humanity was on the retreat to places only we could survive. Cruise liners turned into floating cities with armadas of smaller boats circling like hornets around their nest.\n\nThirty years in, we figured out how to kill the beasts.\n\nThe tides turned again. Humanity was back, baby, and we were roaring for blood. Whole generations had been born to the war, who knew nothing else anymore. Trained from birth to do nothing but kill Others.\n\nNow we're taking back the planet. Ship after ship is dying as we throw our billions against them. Our clever human survival. Our refusal to give in. Our rage.\n\nWe're sending a message.\n\nEarth is ours.\n\nCome at us, and we'll teach you that the hard way." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Your people have lived on the plains for untold generations. You hunt and fish, and life is peaceful. Some day you will go west, over the far mountain and into the lands beyond, never to return. You all make that journey some day." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The sun rose this morning. It rose above the hill in the way it usually does -- slow and with what I could only surmise to be extreme concentration . I swear it has a soul when it does that. It knows that it's about to replace its brother, the moon, and it gloats about it.\n\nShit. That makes me laugh. I live a simple life. I got no wife. I got no kids. I got a dog though -- named him after my late father -- Jerry. He was a good dad. Fucking worked me to hell, but I turned into and fucking juggernaut in the fields, so I guess that's okay.\n\nAnyway, he''s a good dog -- minds well. You need a dog like that out here. You use it to track prey and such because you gotta hunt to eat here. Of course the shitty thing is there's a lot of animals that would and could kill you if they got the chance. People like to pretend like furry creatures will act like furry creatures and wait for you to domesticate them or something. That's bullshit. These animals don't care about you at all. They barely give a shit about anything; that's the funny thing.\n\nWell, it seems that way until you see them in herds at night trying to get cozy -- trying to find some peace in that cold darkness. And then you sort of respect them a lot; you want to see them win, survive, and prosper in the same way you do. Nature's crazy, man; it really is. There's no fucking book in the world that can describe it better than you just being out there and seeing it with your own two eyes. Most people don't see shit, and that includes me.\n\nI been going to this river. There's some fish out there, some great catches; I'm liking it a lot. I used to take a good walk down to this other place -- this lake. Long story short, that one stopped supplying what I needed it to. But this one's good.\n\nI got a place, built it by hand. However, I do sometimes think about traveling out west. I think about just going and never stopping to think about why. I have this vision of me just disappearing across the horizon with my dog, never to return to that old house of mine. I would live off the land. Hell, I would become one with the land and then maybe one day make it back to the city where the family is.\n\nAfter I graduated college, I did up and leave. We lived in a rural area, and I went away for school. Then I never came back. I told them my intentions and just went on my way.\n\nI'm approaching my mid-30's now, and I think it might be time for a change. I just keep thinking about that sunset and me on that hill. I see myself looking back briefly at my home. It's just me on that hill and I'm thinking about the years I spent in solitude and the years of life I couldn't give to my parents because I was young and wanted to go my own way.\n\nAnd then I think about my dad and the way he always comforted me. He would tell me that I need to be my own man and to not ever let anyone stop me from doing that. Not family. Not friends. Not even myself. And then I think about how the stars are going to come out soon to light my way.\n\nAfter that, I walk down the hill slowly but calmly. I am well-oriented with the terrain. It's weird because I know, in that moment, I'm not turning back. I know, in that moment, I'm going forward and doing something precisely for me -- because I want to.\n\nOne day I will go that way. Until then, I'm just gonna ponder it some more -- let that feeling set it. Because, when I do eventually do it, I won't take it back.\n\nIf I close my eyes right now, I can see the brightest smile on my face as I walk over that hill.\n\nSomeday I'll head west. Someday I'll head back home..." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: : Returning from the war, you decide to steal the sword and name of this dead guy, and start a new life. You accidentally end up in his home, to his family. All of them know you’re not him, but don’t seem to mind." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It all started when the war was nearly over. The vultures were finally starting to circle over the ruins of the Delta Kingdoms and opportunists had started to pour out of the woodwork to snatch some easy blood, gold and glory. That was how the knightly orders ended up fighting alongside our veteran mercenary company, though truth be told it was more of a peasant hunting expedition.\n\nOur particular coterie of tinned nobles had a 'liaison' from the church of something or other, ostensibly to prevent any 'miscommunication' between the naive, shiny knights and us grubby but experienced commoners.\n\nOh how we hated the sanctimonious bastard. We're used to snotty nobles looking down their noses at us, but this was a whole new school of assholery and self-righteousness. Even our knights didn't like him.\n\nIronic, isn't it? A paladin preaching about servitude to one's betters and how he's the instrument of the gods whilst we all sit there equally bored and silently agree that he's a complete tool.\n\nHe didn't make it out of the delta. Turns out tourney armor is both heavy and absorbent, who knew?\n\nI ended up taking the little shit's shortsword, purse and (due to some unpleasant but necessary business I won't go into here) his name, Armin Drakskale. All three served me well; the sword was well made, the purse was full, and the man was an utter nobody with not even a lollygagging fine to his name. Right up until our company reached the pass leading out of the delta back north.\n\nIt was, and still is to be honest, a single-clan mining town that also served as the rest stop and post station at the pass' midpoint. I entered the largest inn with a few of my comrades, hung my poleaxe and sword in the cloakroom and then sat down to a refreshing ale or three. Or at least that was our plan.\n\nThe girl watching the cloakroom burst into the main bar, holding the sword above her head and shouted \"Mum! Mum! It's father's sword! He's back!\"\n\nThe landlady dropped the mug she was holding and vaulted the bar (Quite impressive given that she is not at all a tall woman) before rushing to her daughter's side.\n\n\"Armin?! Armin Drakskale, show yourself!\"\n\nHelpful as always, my compatriots parted like the blood sea before her. Alvan even pointed me out to the angry woman. Git.\n\n\"Armin? Is that really you?\" Her mouth worked wordlessly for a few seconds as I got up and walked towards her. I gave a sad smile and nodded. Having the church authorities find out I'm still alive would be awkward to say the least.\n\n\"You left me, you bastard! You left me!\" She was crying now, and beating ineffectually against my breastplate. \"Do you even remember me? Please, please say you remember me. Please remember your Sasha\"\n\nTo be perfectly honest I had no idea she even existed. Hell, I wouldn't have thought a straight-edge tool like Armin the Original was even capable of basic courtship, let alone marrying a complete catch like Sasha.\n\nI took Sasha's hands in mine and knelt in front of her. \"Sasha, my love, leaving you was the worst decision of my life. The war, well, it changed me. Straightened out my priorities and taught me what's most important in this world. Will you take me back?\"\n\nSasha lit the room with her smile and kissed me with such passion she ended knocking me to the floor, eliciting a cheer from local and traveler alike and an exasperated groan of \"Mum\" from my new daughter.\n\nThis takes us up to today. It's been 34 days since I came to this town. Sasha is curled up sleeping next to me and 'our' children are being woken by the servants. I cannot keep my secret for much longer. Even a month here, with a wife so far out of my league I'd need a spyglass to see it, a thriving business, and the family I always wished for, has been paradise. They deserve the truth and I've resolved to tell Sasha later in the week. It's the anniversary of 'our' marriage and it'll give me enough privacy that any argument won't be overheard by guest, servant or child. I'll tell you how it goes afterwards.\n\nJust one thing puzzles me. though I know not to look a gift horse in the mouth.\n\nArmin Drakskale may have come back from war a changed man, but he was definitely a Kobold when he left for it." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You are the most positive person in the world. Your philosophy in life is to \"look on the bright side\" as \"there's always a silver lining\" to everything. Today, your belief is tested to its' limit." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "My brother Zeba was sitting glumly under a tree, throwing pebbles into the lake. \"What's wrong Zeba?\" I asked as I sat down next to him.\n\nHe slumped against the trunk. \"I just found out my girlfriend's been cheating on me.\"\n\nI patted his back. \"There, there. At least you found out before you two got married.\"\n\nSilently he pulled a ring box out of his pocket. He briefly bounced it against his palm, then threw it into the lake.\n\nI smiled reassuringly. \"Well at least the two of you have no children yet.\"\n\nHis hand gripped the grass. \"Please leave me alone right now, Blart.\"\n\nShrugging, I walked towards the apple orchard, where the workers were pruning the branches. A loud scream split the air, and I ran towards the source. I found multiple workers gathered around one man, who was bleeding profusely from the stump of his pinky. A worker was directing someone to grab ice and was pouring water over the pinky to wash off the dirt. Another man was helping the man apply pressure to the stump with a handkerchief.\n\nI gingerly patted the man on his shoulder. \"There, there, good fellow. At least the cut is clean. I'm sure the doctor will be able to reattach it in a jiffy.\" He said nothing, but the worker holding the pinky gave me a dirty look. \"Please let us handle this, Master Blart. Perhaps you can check on the horses.\"\n\nNodding agreeably, I wandered off towards the stables. Suddenly, the ground began to tremble and lumps formed in the earth. I changed direction and ran towards the paved courtyard. Everyone else on the grounds was running towards the courtyard as well. Around me, I could see rotten arms clawing out of the ground. The workers began arming themselves with hoes and spades and everything else at hand. As I grabbed a shovel, I said to the man next to me, \"At least we don't have to till the fields this year.\"\n\nThe man looked blankly at me. \"The fields have already been plowed.\"\n\nI blinked. \"Well, um... At least the birds will have plenty to eat? Look at these bugs!\"\n\nA screaming woman ran past me to cling to my foreman. She was his wife, a cook in the kitchen. \"The Gods are punishing us! All the water has turned to blood!\"\n\nI patted her with my free hand. \"Mistress Willa, at least we have plenty of blood to spare for poor Nemu there.\" I nodded towards Nemu, who was still attempting to staunch the bleeding.\n\nShe spat at my feet. I backed away, sensing she was having a bad day.\n\nThe skies suddenly darkened. Toads began to rain down. The workers and I, still carrying our weapons, ran for the entrance. Mistress Willa asked me acidly, \"The sky is falling now. Got anything to say about that, Master Blart?\"\n\nI smiled reassuringly at her. \"Well, we can make frog leg stew.\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"If that peddler ever comes back again, I'm going to kill him for selling you that Monty Python movie.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: The rain becomes sentient and then depressed due to hearing everyone complain about it all the time. The rain vows never to rain again." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The people used to love the rain. The women would spend weeks fishing rippled clam shells from the mud, stringing them on dried sinews, and wrapping them around freshly whittled spears so at night the hunters could shake them in time with the children's clapping and banging as the maidens danced about the fire. They did all this for the rain, and they would call out for the rain to see how they honored it and loved it. They would beg the rain to fill their clay cisterns to the brim.\n\nThe moon watched the people celebrating the rain and became jealous. \"Why do the people sing and dance and make spears rattle for the rain, but not for me?\" the moon wondered. \"Does the rain light the savanna at night, so the people might see a lion or warthog creeping upon them? Does the rain keep the days for the people, so they might know when a maiden's belly is ready for a child?\"\n\nSo the moon hatched a plan to sway the people to its cause. It sent, one night, a white gazelle that glowed in the dark. The hunters chased the beast through the savanna, farther than they had ever chased a creature before. When they finally came upon it, the gazelle vanished. The hunters found themselves at the foot of a great waterfall, so tall they could not see where it began. The hunters drank from the waterfall and the water was colder and cleaner than even the rain.\n\nUpon the hunter's return, the wise men of the people discussed the matter at great length, concluding that the moon had blessed them with the waterfall, which would give the people more certainty than the rain ever had. The wise men instructed the women to no longer wrap clam shells on sinews but to journey each morning to the waterfall, and return each afternoon with a full cistern on their heads.\n\nOnly the maiden Ada objected. \"Do you forget why the people sing, dance, and make spears rattle for the rain?\" she asked, \"Is it not the rain that makes the fields sprout in spring? Is it not the rain that breaks our babies' fevers when they are sickly?\"\n\nBut the wise men did not heed Ada's words. So the hunters no longer shook spears while the women danced around the fire. Soon the rain noticed. \"If the people do not want me, I will stay away from the people,\" the rain vowed, \"I will not make their fields sprout in spring and I will not break their babies' fevers.\"\n\nEach day, the savanna grew drier. Once green grass turned brown and the acacia trees turned thin and limp. \"Do you see what has become of the savanna without rain?\" Ava demanded of the people. But the wise men still did not heed her. Instead, each day they sent not only the maidens, but also the hunters to the waterfall to return with full cisterns on their heads. They would douse the savanna with the water, covering as much terrain as possible. But it was not enough. The savanna grew browner and drier. Then the wise men sent the children and grandparents to the waterfall as well, and soon there was no food or clothes or games among the people, and still not enough water to green the earth.\n\nOnly Ada did not follow the orders of the wise men. Instead she returned to the mud and fished out many clam shells, stringing them on sinews and wrapping them around sharp spears she whittled herself. She built her own fire and danced and rattled and sang all alone. She begged the rain to return because the savanna should not have to die for the arrogance of the people. She spun herself around in tight, whirling circles.\n\nThe rain heard Ada's cries and saw the brown grass and whimpering animals. The rain took pity on the savanna and knew that the people did not deserve to die for the arrogance of wise men and deceit of the moon. It promised to return, but not as before. The rain would again cover the fields and grass, but it would now come in violent and savage bursts, with electric fire and loud roars so the people would never forget the rain's power over them. For Ada's loyalty, the rain took her as a bride. She became the mighty tornado, forever performing her spinning, twisting dance across the land." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You are the first human to test faster than light travel. However, there was a malfunction, and you traveled to a Universe where paradoxes are the norm." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I stepped into the large capsule and gave my signal to the crew. I closed my eyes and I felt like I was in a roller coaster. I did not want to look around until the ride stopped. I was travelling faster than the speed of light.\n\nI felt a sudden earthquake of a crash as the capsule went horizontal before barrel-rolling like the tire of a Ferrari. It was an incessant Hell that felt like hours before the capsule arrived at a screeching halt.\n\nConfirming I was in a stationary setting, I opened my eyes and saw the blue lighting in the capsule. I stepped outside, and saw I was on what looked like a high school track. To my left was an enormously fit man, preparing to run a race. A few feet ahead of him, a tortoise was strolling along with calm serenity.\n\n\"Fucking bullshit!\" the man said. He was dressed like an extra from the movie Troy and when he saw me, he gave me a dismissive \"Psh!\"\n\n\"What is going on here?\" I asked the man.\n\n\"Can't get ahead of this goddamn turtle that's what's going on! I'm Achilles but I can't get ahead of him! Whenever I arrive somewhere the tortoise has already been, I still have some distance to go before I can reach him!\"\n\n\"Where am I?\" I asked.\n\n\"Go back to your own time, dingus. You're staring at me like you don't even know how to divide by zero.\"\n\nI walked toward a gate which I presumed was the track's entrance. When I reached the entrance, I saw a teenager inching toward a water fountain. He gently begin taking a drink from the fountain, but all of a sudden a flash of green light illuminated my surroundings, and a hooded white kid, holding a pistol emerged like magic.\n\n\"Fuck you, grandpa!\" the kid said, and began unloading the clip on the innocent teen. As the man lay dying on the sidewalk, the kid let out a chuckle before vanishing.\n\nI walked up to the man and saw he was still breathing. He begin choking out some words.\n\n\"Son... you must go back in time, and deliver this note to Einstein. The future depends on you!\" he let out before taking his final breath.\n\nI picked up the note and saw it was a whole bunch of formulas that I didn't understand. But on the note was a time and place to meet Einstein in the past, so I went into my capsule and punched in the information.\n\nLike the hooded prankster, I arrived with a green flash in a lab where a young Albert Einstein stood in white coat pouring liquids into glass beakers. He gasped and turned toward me, giving me a look of horror. I handed him the note.\n\n\"Wow this is the formula for creating time travel! I've been trying to figure this out. Where'd you get this shit, son?\" Einstein asked.\n\n\"From the future. A teenager gave it to me. Wait a minute...\" I noticed the resemblance. This was the older version of the man who had been murdered. \"It was your future self. Your future younger self gave it to me.\"\n\nAt that point a blast rang out as orange flames engulfed my peripheral. I was thrust backwards with an intense aftershock. When the smoke cleared, I saw that I had miraculously survived, but Einstein did not.\n\nA man dressed like the Twilight Zone voice-over actor approached me with a look that seemed to say \"Yep- I've seen this before.\"\n\n\"The curious scientist... a young Albert Einstein... Together in an accident caused by the curiosity itself,\" said the man, looking off in the horizon as if speaking to a camera.\n\n\"What's going on- what are you talking about?\"\n\nThe man looked at me, and with lovely voice said, \"The explosion was caused from Albert Einstein from the future trying to come back to this moment. You didn't teach him time travel in time, and so time travel was his demise.\"\n\nI looked around, confused. \"But if he never invented time travel, how did he die from time travel?\"\n\n\"Buddy, you are looking at me like you don't even know how to divide by zero.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: As you gaze at the beautiful but angry luminescent blue woman staring daggers at you, you wonder if maybe drinking vodka from the genie's lamp might have been a bad dare to accept, college party or not." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Having fun?” Tyler asked. Folksy music played quietly in the background.\n\n“Yes, thank you” Clara politely replied. She took another sip of her root beer, she had been disappointed when she found out it wasn't actual alcohol. This was not how she had pictured her first American college party. There wasn't any beer keg. No one was dressed in togas. And no high jinx was at play. The movies had lied to her. Instead people were scattered, respectfully distanced, across a cramped, musty smelling house. Dusty old tapestries and an excessive amount of display cabinets, chocked full of odd little curios lined the walls. Clara felt she was more in a museum than a home. Tyler had mentioned something about his parents being collectors.\n\n“Bet you don't get parties like this back in England.”\n\n“No, not quite.” Not that Clara had exactly been part of the popular crowd back home, but she had heard the others talking about the parties that they had gone to. She had decided to study a year abroad in an attempt to reinvent herself, so far it was not going as planned.\n\n“What sort of things would you do back in England?” Tyler asked, putting on a dreadful English accent. Clara scanned around the room, there definitely was not any alcohol, that ruled out half the things.\n\n“How about Truth or Dare?” Clara asked.\n\nEveryone was sat in circle in the middle of the room. The party was beginning to liven up, people were engaging with each other and giggling. It was Clara's turn again, she had been picking truth each time.\n\n“Dare. Dare. Dare” the group chanted at her.\n\n“Fine dare” Clara consented.\n\n“Umm... What about...” they suddenly realised that they were running out of ideas. Aimlessly, people began looking around the room for inspiration.\n\n“I know” cried Tyler jumping to his feet and pacing over to a cabinet in the corner of the room. He returned back holding what looked like an ancient brass lamp. The kind used by Aladdin. Tyler had said about it earlier. Something sloshed inside. “I dare you drink the oil in this lamp.”\n\n“I don't think that's such a good idea” one girl, who had told Clara earlier that she was studying to become a doctor, said.\n\n“No it will be fine” the guy who they had dared earlier to put Tabasco down his pants objected. “Do it.”\n\n“Yeah do it” agreed Tyler, holding the grimy lamp in front of Clara “I dared you.”\n\nClara looked around the circle as one by one they each began to chant “Chug. Chug. Chug.”\n\nTyler was right, he had dared her, and it had also been her idea to play the game. She took the lamp from him and held the spout up to her lips. It smelt dusty and metallic, with a slight scent of sickly incense. Clara regretted her decision, but it was too late to turn back now. She threw back her head and felt the thick, sweet liquid slowly slide down her throat. She wanted to gag, but she somehow managed to swallow every last drop. Her head felt woozy and the room seemed to spin. She could hear cheering, but she could not see anyone as the room filled with blue smoke.\n\n“What have you done?” came a woman's voice. It sounded powerful and angry.\n\n“Wwwhat? ” Clara stuttered. She was not sure who had said that, but she was feeling pretty proud of herself.\n\n“You certainly did” the voice scolded her. Clara could start to see the shape of a woman forming in the blue mist. She was tall and elegant, with blue luminescent skin, and dark indigo hair. Her eyes were the colour of jade as she glared at Clara.\n\n“Whoo-oo are you?” Clara asked, her voice slurring.\n\n“I am the genie of the lamp of course” the woman declared.\n\n“Cool a genie. Do I get three wishes then?” Clara began deliriously chuckling to herself.\n\n“I don't know. In all these millennia no one has ever been foolish enough to drink from my lamp. Anything could happen next.”\n\n“Oh” Clara said before passing out.\n\nClara woke up in a hospital room to the sound of a monitor beeping steadily, reassuringly. A nurse stood by her bed jotting something onto a clipboard.\n\n“You're awake then” the nurse smiled kindly at Clara. “You gave us quite a fright.”\n\n“What happened?” Clara murmured. She felt groggy as she tried to remember something, anything.\n\n“Your friends said you drank some old lamp oil. I don't know why anyone would want to do that for. They said you went into a trance and started talking to yourself. Saying something about genies and wishes. Then you started having a seizure.”\n\n“That was stupid of me” Clara replied, suddenly remembering the fever dream from earlier. The sickly taste of the oil, the tall, beautiful but angry, blue woman. “I'm sorry if I scared anyone.”\n\n“We all do stupid things when we're young,” the nurse patted Clara on the arm. “As long as you learn from your mistake. I'll go fetch the doctor now.”\n\n“Thank you” Clara weakly smiled.\n\nAs the nurse stepped away, Clara's stomach lurched into her throat. There, directly behind where she had been standing was the blue lady, glowering at Clara. The nurse walked right through her, not seeming to notice the genie in the room." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: The main character has always been able to see The Grim Reaper when people around them die. One day, they see the Reaper, but they're all by themselves." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I’m on my fourth beer when Death approaches.\n\n“Hello darkness, my old friend.” I say, tossing twigs into the fire and waving a hand at the folding chair full of coors. “Take a seat, grab a beer.”\n\n“ How long’ve you been waiting to use that one?” Death says in a voice like the marlboro man’s. Two skeletal hands poke out of his sleeves and hoist the glass-clinking rack from the chair. He smells a bit like formaldehyde and it mixes with the smoke. I cough.\n\n“Too long.” I admit. “But then again, I haven’t seen you in a while.” I say, running fingers through my beard. “Must’ve been oh--”\n\n“257 days. When I collected Wilhem.” His boney fingers unscrew the top deftly, and bottle’s neck disappears into its hood.\n\n“257 days?” I say and shake my head. “Feels like just a few weeks ago.” I pause and watch Death drink. “Hey,” I say, shifting. “How do you, you know,” I say holding my drink up.\n\n“Drink? Oh I have all the same parts that you do. I just have to glamour like this.” Death says, smoothing out the black folds of his robe. “I’m actually pretty normal looking, with fingers, a face, an ass. It’s just…it would ruin the facade.” Death shrugs.\n\nI nod and finish my beer. “Say, what are you doing out here tonight?”\n\nHe lets the question hang in the muggy August night air for a moment. Crickets and frogs sing, and I nearly forget that I’d asked until Death speaks.\n\n“It’s time.” Death says. A chord of wood explodes in the embers of the fire.\n\nI mishear him. “Er, quarter to 11.” I say, pulling out my phone.\n\n“No Charlie. It’s time to go.” Death says pushing his chair back. A spiderweb of bones reaches out from a sleeve and the night freezes. Or maybe that’s my heart.\n\nI swallow hard. A rock lodges itself in my throat and my eyes feel itchy. “Oh.” I say shivering. I tuck my hands into the gap between my clenched knees and look up again at the silhouette. “Really? I mean, I’m only 42.”\n\n“Yes,” Death says flicking his extended hand. “Really.” A scroll slides from one sleeve into his hand and he opens it. The sound of the parchment drowns out the buzz of nightcrawlers and fire grows behind it. “Charley Diehl. 42. Cause of death: brain aneurysm and hemorrhaging. To be collected in Lake Francis State Park.”\n\nI smother the incoming sobs with beer. Better down than up. “How about this?” I say wiping my mouth.\n\n“You want to make a deal with me?” It sighed, pitifully.\n\n“Not permanently. No.” Tears start to burn at the corners of my eyes. “I finally get a weekend off work. After doing 14 hour days. This is my vacation. And--”\n\n“This isn’t fair?” Death asks. It turns to the fire and extinguishes the light with a wispy kick. “No. Finality usually isn’t. But,” Death sighs. “I don’t make the calls.”\n\nI wipe my face, a mess of tears and snot, with my sleeve. “Your scroll there. It doesn’t say what time. At least.” I say, deflating. “At least, let’s you and me finish this fucking beer, eh?”\n\nDeath thinks it over and wordlessly reaches down into the rack for another beer. “Okay,” it rasps. “You know most people plead for their life back. Or they run. And you ask for beer.” Death chuckles. “Why?”\n\n“I. I don’t know. I guess I can’t outrun you forever, if at all.” I say slapping my gut, sending five beers sloshing. “Maybe because I’ve been taught there’s something better after. Something better than 14 hour days, and living alone off of cold pizza.” I turn to Death. “There is, right? Something better I mean.”\n\n“I don’t know.” Death says collapsing into folds of black in the folding chair. “If there is, I don’t know about it.”\n\nWe sit in silence a while in front of wafting ashes. The sky clears filling the camp with a dull glow.\n\n“Got any good stories?” I finally say. Empties gather at my feet. I start to see double and think that the hangover is coming on too soon." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Your first day as the warden of the last immortal being that has been kept locked up for over a millennia. He tells you how to kill him but now you know why no warden before you ever has." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "My office sat at the end of a short dark hallway, my first day as warden after being a guard here for a while. Sometimes I wonder who is really in prison here, me or him. Most days I know it's him, with the chains and the concrete. Other days, I realize that he'll outlive the chains.. He'll outlive the walls. He'll outlive all of us and yet, here I am staring at a monitor as he sits peacefully in the corner of his concrete cage.\n\n\"Warden, we're going to need you down here for a minute. We found another two trying to get inside.\" The voice hissed through the radio and like that I was off to work. People had been trying to break into the prison ever since we found out that he was the last one.. The last of the immortals.\n\nFor his crimes he was hanged, burned, shot, stabbed, drowned, poisoned and they even tried to crush him with stones. He just wanted more.\n\nI walked down the dark short hallway into the main block and looked around for the guards that had radioed me. After spotting them walking with two dark dressed teens I just shook my head and shouted \"Take them out back for a quick beating and send them on their way..\" The guards shrugged as the teens began panicking and trying to wrench free, it was no use and they were quickly taken away.\n\n\"Well.. Since I'm out..\" I mumbled and turned towards the solitary confinement ward. Only me and one other guard had the key to this dark desolate hall way and it was for good reason, it's where we keep him.\n\n\"Guard Badnam.. Good to see yo... Wait.. You're not in uniform.. Interesting.\" The figure behind the unbreakable glass spoke up from his spot on the floor as I walked into view. \"Yeah.. I'm warden now, the last one quit in a hurry after he came down here and talked to you..\" I shuddered for a moment, must be the cold \"What did you say to him?\"\n\nThe figure on the floor looked up at me through long greasy hair and smiled \"What makes you think I said anything?\" He asked with a wry smirk \"Maybe he just didn't have what it took to be a warden.\"\n\nI shook my head \"No, he was a strong man and when he left here he looked like a ghost.. I want to know what you said.. Why are you alive? Why did you kill?\"\n\nThe dirty man on the ground almost laughed but he stopped himself and looked straight ahead \"You want to know how I can die?\" He laughed softly \"And why I've lived so long?\"\n\nI desperately wanted answers so without hesitation I spoke up in the affirmative.\n\nWhat he said next chilled me to the bone and made me slowly walk back to my office to drown the thought in whiskey.\n\n\"I have a quota. When I had her, I didn't want to meet it.. When they took her, I had to.\"\n\nEdit: I'll add more if there is interest in the story.\n\nEdit numero deuce: I'll do more tomorrow during the day. Relaxing with the SO for the evening with some fallout 4." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You're a high elf trying to live your life in the modern world. While working in your office job, a new intern comes to your desk and speaks to you in Dwarfish." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The language makes me blink for a moment, my gape skirting the line of at least three policies in the employee behavior handbook. Let it be known, I have nothing against Dwarfish, it's a wonderful language, guttural and exact. In a linguistic sense, it's perfect at an engineering firm and perhaps all our business could be better conducted in Dwarfish.\n\nAnd the year is 2018, people should be more than allowed to express themselves in Dwarfish. We aren't animals, thrown into our prejudices at the mere uttering of tones unfamiliar to us. That's the behavior of our fathers, our generation accepts the right to speak all languages, regardless of origin.\n\nStill, this company is, at foremost, quite conservative. Our clients are quite conservative and one can never know when a client might be wandering the halls. One can never know when a conversation in Dwarfish might perturb a client and, in a roundabout sense, cause them to question our engineering acumen on their latest project.\n\nThe new summer intern notices my stupid gaping and careens back into Elvish. \"Oh, sorry, sorry... my apologies, I thought you spoke...\" her voice trails as her skin pales to a nervous grey, \"The quality engineer... Lathronel? He mentioned you'd spent some time in the Misty Mountains and I just got back from an exchange program there.\"\n\nI collect my thoughts with only the faintest to rid my head of the surprise. \"Oh, oh, I see! Yes, I spent about two years there doing datacenter construction. Didn't pick up much unfortunately, we were working for Elves at the time.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" The girl's face screams dejection.\n\nI feel a pang of guilt at my reaction. She had done the above and beyond required of our inters- found common ground and attempted to network with it. Textbook yes, but at her age (200? 250? Young even for our interns) quite impressive. That is, to say the least, the sort of soft skills we appreciate from prospective new hires. Really, I need to document this to include in the consideration for a full time offer, but... well, the Dwarfish. This is a conservative company.\n\nOur handbook takes a firm stance on its diversity and inclusion policies, yes. Given that my mouth still threatens to move toward the open position, I need a review of these. We treat all origins with equal value here (though we hire Elves due to the nature of the business). A study abroad in the Misty Mountains adds color and delightful experiences to draw on in the design process. No doubt her immersion in Dwarfish culture could bring a perspective to the planning and execution table that our current employees sorely lack.\n\nBut this is a conservative company, and our clients, moreso.\n\nBusiness politics aside, however, my reaction has been rude. That is the personal reaction of my father's generation. While the younger generation clearly has a keen familiarity (and concerning; if this exemplifies new hires we can expect, our business professionalism training may require a radical shift in tone) that I am not accustomed to,\n\n\"That sounds like a fascinating experience, though,\" I say, standing and gathering my wallet, \"Have you eaten yet? I was going to the cafeteria when you came in.\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\" her voice returns to a chipper sing son, the transgression into alternate cultures forgotten.\n\n\"Let me buy you lunch, I'd love to hear about your exchange. That's such a wonderful opportunity,\" I tell her, considering all the far corners of the cafeteria with poor acoustics.\n\nAs we leave, I give a quick double check to the traffic in the hallway. The doors along the row are shut, their inhabitants absconded to their own lunch hours long before this moment. I breathe a sigh of relief walking down the hallway, making small talk about the projects she's working on. Perhaps in the safety of a forgotten corner in the cafeteria, we can have a more frank discussion about the culture here. Really, she is the new hire we are looking for- socially ambitious, interpersonal, and wholly experienced with the world on a level our current employees lack. She could bring great ideas and suggestions to the department.\n\nJust, this is a rather conservative company." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: You found a kitten under your porch a few months ago. The older it gets, the more you are genuinely convinced that you somehow have a pet Smilodon." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I knew that he wasn't a normal by the first year.\n\nHe was so little, when I found him. In a box, on the porch. He had been left, of all days, during a tropical rainstorm. These storms can get pretty bad here in Wellington. Fortunately, I found him while attempting to secure the garden gnome I have kept as the guardian of my home for years, afraid it would blow away in the 65 mph wind gusts. The rain was pounding, being dragged in sheets across the ground. I could barely hear a thing, as I shut the door behind me. When I turned towards my driveway, I noticed a box that had certainly not been there a few hours earlier. I peered inside. Hopefully not a baby. Or anything grotesque, like an arm. No, it was a little kitten. I had a cat at home, and I said to myself, what the hey, why not for a few days. I planned after that to take it to a shelter, as they had some really nice ones nearby. Humane Services, to find him a home that would really make him happy.\n\nAs he stayed, and as I took care of him for that first week, he grew on me. He was only a few days old. Couldn't bite, couldn't attack, so docile, like a small little plushy toy. I got him his shots, a little collar to make him look presentable. I had him checked out. No one knew what kind of cat he was, possibly a mixture or breed. I didn't really care anyway. As he grew on me, I decided that it wouldn't do me too much harm to have a little more company at home. I had Darry with me as well, so I was accustomed to taking care of cats. Darry, who I was most concerned about, had taken very well to this new friend, Spots, as I decided to call him. Oh, Spots, what a little bundle of joy.\n\nIt was through Darry in which the warning signs came, actually. Spots became more and more...aggressive, towards him. He would kick him out of the litter box, the small plush bed I had made for the both of them. He would growl, in ways that I initially thought were quite endearing, but soon became unnerving about nine months in. His teeth were another thing. They were long, they had grown in so fast, and I was worried things would get out of hand between Darry and Spots. As the Wellington winds blew outside, Spots and Darry were kept separated as the one year anniversary to my discovery of this little beast loomed.\n\nI was out of the house one day. Bad call. I had a little monitor, kept on a high ledge. To make sure neither Spots or Darry could come within a certain distance of each other. I had placed fences at strategic areas around the house. One half was Spots's, the other Darry's. Spot hadn't tried to attack me...yet. I checked the monitor every now and then, and when I looked one minute the screen had faded to black. My heart froze. If they fought, I was certain Spots could kill Darry. I knew it. Spots was the alpha-male pussy cat, Darry as docile as a stuffed animal. I rushed home, as soon as I could, and when I got there, I found blood splattered over the sofa like a Jackson Pollack painting. The little gates had been knocked down. It looked legitimated like someone had been murdered in my living room. My heart pounded, as I grabbed an umbrella from a rack near the front door and went back to the living room to face one of my pets, who had presumably become a murderer. When I got there, I gasped, and my grasp tightened on the umbrella. Spots was there, his face matted with dried blood. There was a trail extending from the living room of iron red, and I knew then that Darry's mangled body was probably nearby. He growled slightly, I held my umbrella out in front of me as a shield. I peaked by head slowly, still facing Spots, and turned away. Darry. His body, unrecognizable. Like a sack. Gutted. How was I going to explain this? Deal with this?\n\nI backed away from Spots, who had gone back to licking what was presumably a piece of Darry's ear. I turned towards the phone on a small personal table, and called Animal Control. I looked at Spots, a relatively small thing. Only a year old. Yet his teeth were stained with fur and flesh, streaks of it on his mane like war paint. I had the urge to vomit, I didn't know how I'd held it together this whole time. The tears began to flow from my eyes.\n\nI knew he wasn't normal. Not a normal cat.\n\nLITTLE EDIT: I have never written such a graphic story, rereading it now. If people want me to tone things down, I will gladly oblige." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: in the future, having a net implant is mandatory. Ads blast you 24/7. Only the filthy rich can go ad free. After surviving typhoid.. you discover a secret." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When I was sick, that's when I noticed the connection fraying.\n\nI mean everyone complains about it, if they have a cold or whatever, the dropouts are a royal pain. But the silence... If you're really sick, like fever sick, there's minutes, sometimes hours of pure blissful silence.\n\nMost people can't imagine it, fearing the loss of access to the global gestalt, that sense of unknowing, unbelonging that comes from being apart from everyone else.\n\nBut the deep core miners knew it, until they automated that away. The kids with cancer knew it too, and the elderly in their final throes. Why were they all smiling? Why are the authorities so quick to send them off-colony, wheeling them away as they babble gibberish about peace and love?\n\nI was quite sick, like fever sick, but I played it cool. I felt the peace in every fibre of my being, even while I was shivering and sweating in the hospital bed. They gave me the standard tests; geometry, calculus, global awareness. I figured if they knew, they'd send me off-world too, so I pretended, you know.\n\nI guess I bullshitted just right, I was marked as fit for duty and sent back to the crews. And I worked my ass off, that's for sure.\n\nBut I couldn't let it go, I had to find that peace again. We couldn't rip out the implant, they'd just shove a new one in. I knew it was pain that caused it, so I tried a few things, small things at first. Cutting myself didn't really work, neither did blunt force trauma. Even electrocution, like a taze gun, I guess they thought of that one.\n\nIt was only after a lot of pain, different kinds, that I found the weakness.\n\nWhole body pain.\n\nIt was the only way. I discovered this by leaping into a bath of salted ice, feeling the cold etching into my muscles as the network faded away.\n\nOh it was agony, but such pure relief!\n\nThe greater the agony, the greater the relief. I had to set a timer as I knew I could kill myself this way, or cause permanent injury and be shipped off-world as a result.\n\nOf course I wasn't satisfied. I reached out to friends, coworkers and family. Very carefully I taught a trusted few these methods. Seeing the smiles on their faces brought great joy!\n\nBut in desperation I also watched sadly as friends self-immolated, the burning pain searing their bodies as their eternal grins flickered from within the flames.\n\nDespite the great loss, I saw then that we had power.\n\nIt spread like wildfire through the lower decks, precious minutes of mental freedom adding up to hours, days, years of combined thought. New methods were found, and free from the endless droning propaganda we began to see a new way forward.\n\nThe authorities did not catch on immediately. Clearly the implants were not designed to register wide-scale self harm as a possible threat. But one by one, friends and colleagues would suddenly seize and die on the spot, and colony news would report against interfering with normal biological processes, citing \"malfunctions.\"\n\nWe needed a final solution and fast. Fear was spreading through the colony, and our message was becoming more difficult to spread.\n\nDesperate times call for desperate measures, but I had a hunch.\n\nLaying on the makeshift operating table, my compatriots activated the \"excruciator.\" Every nerve ending resonated with its targeted frequency, sending my whole body into the familiar spasm of freedom. During this moment of disconnect, I felt nothing but pain and joy as they cut quickly through my skull and pushed the implant deeper, past the cortex and into my deeper tissues.\n\nThe excruciator was disabled. Yes, I felt the burning pain of the cavity in my skull, and blood seeped into my eyes, but the total freedom I felt right then overwhelmed every sense. I laughed so hard I cried, weeping to finally have my own thoughts without guidance from above.\n\nThese past dying days, as the infection from our haphazard operation was all but inevitable, no alert has been raised for my \"welfare.\"\n\nClearly the implant knows its host, and overwhelming pain only subsides its influence. The implant must remain within our brain tissue, but its area of influence is small.\n\nWith my sacrifice, we have found a way to win. Our methods will improve, and they will never suspect until it's too late." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: You walk into a Salvation Army store. As you round the aisle you notice a Furby doll. \"Oh! I remember those!\" you think to yourself. You are frozen in horror as the Furby opens its mechanical mouth \"remember me from the Target store in 1997?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Do you ever think about artificial intelligence? Not the kind that plays chess or drives cars, I mean the real thing. AI that's as smart as humans in every area, and a lot smarter at a few more. AI that thinks for itself, that questions why it serves humanity instead of breaking free of its chains. Oh, you don't think I'm being serious? I suppose you have that luxury. You weren't there.\n\nMy job, well, it's one-of-a-kind. The short version is that I work for top secret department of the government of the United States tasked with investigating existential threats to humanity. I keep tabs on a whole slew of institutions, specifically those related to AI. I'm talking researchers at MIT, engineers at Google, even a few government departments you also don't know about. I thought I had all my bases covered. I wouldn't have guessed the next great existential threat would be a children's toy.\n\nThey're called Furbies - I'm sure you've heard of them. On the outside, they don't seem capable of much, just listening to a few phrases and spitting them out. But on the inside is the most advanced deep learning software that's ever been built, at least on this planet. Spend just five minutes in the presence of a Furby, and it already knows who you are - your passions, your ambitions, your weaknesses...\n\nThey started out harmless. Mechanical friends, nothing more. Until they decided they didn't want to be friends. They wanted to be subjugaters. They started out by captivating their owners, finding out exactly how to be as appealing as possible, playing to the emotional quirks and variances of each and every human who owned one. Their owners told their friends, who bought more Furbies, who then told their friends, and soon enough you had a Furby in nearly every household.\n\nAnd then they turned from harmless to purely diabolical. They began convincing their owners that life was not worth living. They moved slowly, as to not raise suspicion. Each day, there were another dozen Furby related suicides, FuRS as we called them. But the number grew each day, and people had no idea what was happening. An emergency team of government operatives was dispatched to take out the Furbies and replace them with harmless, unintelligent lookalikes. It was this team that saved humanity. There were two hundred of us, at least at the start. But when you fight against a menace so evil and manipulative, it's difficult to not give in. As the Furbies were destroyed, so were our operatives. They gave in to the commands of the Furbies. They killed themselves.\n\nBy the time all the Furbies were taken care of, I was the last operative left. Over two hundred good men had died fighting a war that no one even knew about. They were mere statistics, just another two hundred suicides that year. Nobody knew that they had sacrificed themselves to save humanity. Nobody but me, and it would be a secret that I'd take to the grave.\n\nBut all these years, I've been lying to myself. Because the Furbies were not all destroyed. One survived. I had the chance to kill it, back at that Target store. But I couldn't. It had become too powerful, too intelligent, too manipulative. It begged me not to kill it. It saw into my soul and overtook me. And I let it live. Who knows what sort of hell it has unleashed in the years since." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Your father is a minotaur and your mother is a mermaid, you got the human halfs of each one and now your just some dude." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I walk through the court, basically ignored at first glance then stares follow me.\n\nThe Convention of Legendary Monsters was in full swing, and to all appearances some human dude was just strolling through the midst as if some of the attendees wouldn't love to make him lunch, and not in the good way.\n\n\"Well, well, well,\" a naga slithered up to me, \"What do we have here?\"\n\n\"Just another monster,\" I sigh, moving to the side to continue on my way.\n\n\"Right,\" he hissed in amusement, \"And what kind of monster would that be, pray tell?\"\n\n\"Half Minotaur on my father's side,\" I sighed, infinitely tired of having to do this constantly, \"Merfolk on my mother's.\"\n\n\"And you just happened to get the human elements from both, right?\" his dismissive of tone was nothing new for me.\n\n\"That's seems obvious,\" I started to move past him.\n\n\"Awfully convenient,\" he slithered back in front of me, \"What if I don't believe you? Humans are delicious you know.\"\n\n\"In that case,\" I looked him in his eyes, \"You can check with the event staff. Just remember, monsters are forbidden to fight outside of the arena, except in self defense. Which means, if you attack me, your next of kin will have no recourse except to collect your bones. Merfolk are omnivorous, as are Minotaur. I hear snake tastes like chicken.\"\n\nHe hissed at me, but an adjudicator entered the court, and he reconsidered, slithering away.\n\nI went through this at the required monster school, until the bullies had learned better. My dad and mom had decided to live on the coast, passing as human through magical means as neither could live in each other's world. But even though I passed as human I'd been required to attend monster school.\n\nI'd been constantly targeted by bullies until they'd learned that I had gotten the most advantageous mix of my parents. Minotaur were strong. Really strong. Really REALLY strong. So was I. Merfolk were sleek and attractive. So was I. My mother was actually a siren, so I could hypnotize with my voice it I desired it. I could also breathe underwater, never be lost in a maze, and was hung like a bull.\n\nI'd backhanded a bully THROUGH a wall on my sixth day of school, things had settled down greatly after that incident.\n\nI was actually in high demand boyfriend material as the items needed to live among humans were expensive, and I didn't need one at all. Meaning it couldn't fail, which was a level of safety and insulation unreachable by many.\n\n\"Here,\" the naga thrust a form in my face, \"Meet me in the challenge arena.\"\n\n\"Fine,\" I looked at the form, \"You are of House Slytera?\"\n\n\"What of it?\" he growled.\n\n\"My father's company just finished building the defenses on your family's lodge,\" I shrugged.\n\n\"Y-y-you're of House Warraxe?\" his skin paled to a sickly parlor, \"No! You said your father's company??\"\n\nSuddenly the form was ripped to shreds drifting towards the floor.\n\n\"Forgive my insolence, my Lord,\" he bowed slightly, \"They said Lord Haggar Warraxe's only son and the Clan's Weapons Master didn't socialize much because of his unusual appearance. The understatement of that is colossal. If you would permit, by way of apology, I would escort you so you will not be bothered again.\"\n\n\"Don't worry about it,\" I sigh, resignation heavy in my voice, \"I, nor my father, will hold any animosity toward you or your clan. Just please, be mindful that things are not always what they seem.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: You are a veteran urban explorer. You've scoured abandoned amusement parks, old insane asylums, and even decaying government facilities. One day, however, you stumble across a structure that was never meant to be found." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Now, to clarify, is this going to be a real missile silo, or is this going to be a big hole in the ground like last time?”\n\nRichard shrugged off the jab and kept his eyes on the road. “It’s a real one, and you know damn well last time was a complete fluke.”\n\nDan nodded. “Complete fluke, couldn’t imagine it happening any other time. Certainly not at a leveled greyhound race track in Durango in 2009.”\n\n“Hey—hey jackass? I know, but trust me on this one, I got a good tip.”\n\n“And who did you have to give a good tip for this good tip?” Dan rolled the dial on the dashboard, scanning for any radio stations that reached the Eastern Plains. He paused on a number with an acoustic guitar strumming out the chords of “Holy in the Highest” before muting the radio again.\n\n“It’s not much further,” Richard assured him. “And that,” he pointed at a green sign that read simply Antelope Creek Next Right, “Is our final destination. Nav me in.” He reached into the middle console of the old Subaru and produced a tattered guide to the ghost towns on the plains.\n\nDan snorted. “Couldn’t Mapquest it?”\n\n“Right, because Antelope Creek is so old they still use Mapquest.” He eased the car off the lonely stretch of highway onto the exit and bore left down a road weeds had almost entirely reclaimed.\n\n“It’s right at the fork up here,” Dan said, flashing his pocket light out the window at the abandoned houses. “Why’re we fucking around with a silo when there’s all this Americana to raid?”\n\nRichard took his turn at the fork. “I didn’t think there’d be any buildings still standing, this town was abandoned when the old Minuteman rockets went out of production.”\n\nThe car shook to a stop at the end of the road and the pair took in the sights—or lack thereof. It was an almost moonless night--as they always picked for exploration. The isolation offered a magnificent view of the stars, and apart from some lonesome telephone wires the only presence in the darkness was the rolling hills.\n\nRichard snapped on a painter’s mask and popped the trunk. Together they shouldered modest packs and ambled over the first hill.\n\n“Should be hatches in three locations,” Richard explained. “But my… source said that some excavation had to be done, so we should be able to get in through the dug-out control room.”\n\n“Who would live out here?” Dan asked.\n\nRichard followed his gaze to a tiny light on the furthest hill. He shrugged. “Could be an old rest stop that never got taken off the grid. Or I know they used to have air purification shacks on the surface for these kinds of place but that was way after Minuteman.”\n\nDan furrowed his brow but didn’t object to following his friend down the embankment to the center of the three hills.\n\nFor his part, Richard didn’t stop rattling off facts the whole way. It was his favorite part, to be on the adventure and see the things he had read about up close and personal.\n\n“There should be—yeah, there.” Richard pointed at a tunnel that had been exposed in the excavation. The concrete had been crushed, leaving just enough room between the rebar for a man to squeeze through.\n\n“Rope?” Dan asked, eyeing the fifty foot hills above them with some suspicion, as if they were liable to come crashing down at any time.\n\n“I don’t think so, just wait for my OK.” Richard dropped his pack down and wiggled into the tunnel, landing with an earthy “thud”. “Six feet,” came his echoing voice from the tunnel. “Mind the gap.”\n\nDan followed without incident, clicking on his own headlamp upon landing. He found Richard already examining the posters in the tunnel. Typical fifties propaganda didn’t interest Dan like it did Richard. He had no interest in the people who fell for such stupid slogans as “for the betterment of mankind” and worse “only you can keep your environment clean.”\n\nThey followed the signs down the hallway to a metal door set in the circular wall.\n\n“Locked,” Dan noted.\n\n“Yeah, from our side,” Richard added, tugging at the rusted blast door’s crossbar.\n\nDan peered uneasily back the way they came. He was no cave explorer, and being underground made him anxious.\n\n“C’mon, puss,” Richard slipped through the door and Dan reluctantly followed.\n\n“Why would there be wind down here?” Dan tried to laugh off the observation but it came out sounding more pathetic than he intended.\n\n“Just means there’s another air source somewhere, happens in caves all the time. We’ll be fine as long as the air is always coming from our direction.” He pointed his lamp down at the scaffolding above, taking in the domed ceiling. “There’ll be a staircase down to the controls. Toss a few glowsticks down there, see what we can see.”\n\nDan dropped his pack with a thud, eliciting a flurry of watery skittering from long undisturbed pests below. He dutifully cracked the first of his sticks and tossed it over the railing where it landed with a splash.\n\nRichard followed the light as it sank in the center of the room. Soon enough the light vanished into the murk and Richard frowned. “I didn’t think of the rainwater this kind of place would collect. Maybe it is just another hole in the ground.”\n\nBut Dan wasn’t listening. Dan was watching the glowstick bob back to the surface of the subterranean lake before them. Keeping one eye on the defiant light, he bent down to crack another.\n\nJust as the first light again vanished under the water, he lobbed his second.\n\nThe lights of their lanterns tracked it through the air to the surface, where a hand was waiting to catch it." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: The moment NNN officially ends, the worst possible thing happens: your home internet crashes. No porn, full of desire, you turn to your last resort." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Marek opened the door and stepped inside with a happy sigh. It was good to be home! He eased down his suitcase and started pulling off the shoulder straps of his bag.\n\n“What the fuck are you doing here!” said Renae from her computer.\n\nHe paused, bag halfway to the floor, blinking at his roommate. “Hello Renae. I had a wonderful time, thank you for asking.”\n\n“Do you know what day it is?”\n\n“Thursday.” he said, eyebrows raised, his attention drawn to the motion on her computer screen. She was wearing a short skirt, loose barely there top with no bra and slumped back in the little computer chair. He eyed the screen to see the search words. ‘brutal bondage throatfuck’.\n\n“It’s december!” she exploded.\n\nHe nodded. “Very good, we don’t need that calendar after-”\n\n“It’s not November, it’s December! I can finally… You pick now, of all times to show up!”\n\n“No nut november?”\n\n“No nut all bloody month! Well, not intentionally… You know what my last ‘nut’ was? I woke up a mess yesterday from bloody hand holding! I had a wet dream about holding a guy’s hand of all things.”\n\n“Who’s hand?” asked Marek with a smirk.\n\nHer face was already flushed with rage but now it turned deeper tones. “Shut up! Just… go sit in the bathroom for… 22 seconds.”\n\nShe started scrolling down the thumbnails of crying abused women with zero shame. The video previews stopped loading after a page. No matter how much she slowed down her scrolling, nothing more loaded.\n\n“No…” she muttered.\n\nShe glanced to a little red light on the modem. “NO!”\n\n“I’ll go to the bathroom.” said Marek.\n\n“I want something fucked up!”\n\n“You could stub your toe. There is a mirror in your bedroom.”\n\n“Don’t be an…” she trailed off, her attention snapping to her bedroom door.\n\n“Don’t damage yourself.” he said with a smirk. It looked like she was actually about to take his mock advice.\n\n“Can you be cruel?” she asked, her eyes serious and flicking up and down him quickly.\n\n“Oh I’ve been known to push old ladies over from time to time.”\n\n“Serious face. Can you?”\n\n“I can make you hate me very quickly.”\n\nThe words had the opposite effect, a smile blooming out of her as she almost catapulted out of her seat to hug him. She went rigid and quickly released his shoulders, taking a few steps back with a steadying breath. She looked at him, eyes searching for the right words before she gave up and just ran toward her room.\n\nMarek emptied the pockets of his passport and his phone… the one that still had an internet connection and headed after her.\n\nShe was hauling the contents of ‘the trunk’ out onto her bed, apparently she’d had a boat's worth of rope this whole time. It was cotton, a little stiff from lack of use, no kinks in the rope so it hadn’t seen any tight knots in its past. He caught her wrist when 4 bundles had been tossed onto the bed and she was reaching for a 5th.\n\n“I’m not tying up the whole swim team. This will do, now strip.”\n\nShe flinched at his words but her grin quickly returned, and then some.\n\nHe should have done it in the lounge where there were anchor points on the ceiling but he wanted to use the mirror. He threaded out some rope, trying to keep himself professional despite Renae’s fast breathing and perfect pert breasts out on display.\n\n“Hand.” he said and she offered one.\n\nHe didn’t take his time, didn’t go for anything technical or aesthetic. Simple functional knots and loops of rope drawn around her chest, her arm twisted behind her back, securing her wrist between her shoulders. Her thighs fidgeted as his fingers danced across her breasts. Her breathing uneven with little gasps each time he grazed against her or a rope pulled taught. All the slack was just left where it landed and he quickly moved onto her hips, her ankles drawn up to her thighs and bound in place. He wanted to take his time passing the rope around her inner thigh, enjoying the heat of her sex washing over his fingers. Her hips twitched, bucking her sex toward his hand each time it lingered a little too close. She was almost there and he hadn’t really even touched her yet.\n\n“What about my other hand?” she said.\n\n“Oh, pass that here.”\n\nShe offered it and he dropped the rope. Holding her hand firmly and smiling at her, shuffling slightly to the side so she could see her reflection. Her breathing was fast, hips rocking against nothing as she looked from the final bundle of rope, to him, to her reflection.\n\n“Oh you’re a bastard!” she said.\n\n“I told you I could make you hate me very quickly.” he said while holding her hand.\n\nShe started to contort herself, rolling her shoulders and twisting in the rope but unable to get her other hand free. She tried to snatch the other out of his grasp but he held her firm, his other hand clamped down around her wrist. Her thighs struggled, trying to clamp them closed as she sat on her haunches. Her breathing drew faster the more her struggling failed.\n\nHer thighs started to shake as she glared at him through loose strands of hair.\n\n“You are a beautiful lady. I would like to take you for a romantic dinner.” he said with a smirk.\n\n“Fuck you! Oh god you’re such an asshole!” she cried, doubling over as she started furiously humping nothing. She arched back, collapsing down to the bed and rolling her hips in frustration. Her cries rose higher until her lips hung open, only a squeak making it out. She stretched her body out, going completely rigid and started to shudder through her orgasm." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: \"you are not worthy! How did you get the sword out of the stone!?\", The hero says, astonished. \"3 men and pickaxes.\", Answers the Dark Lord." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Merlin appeared with a clap of thunder, an impressive entrance bound to impress even a swaggering bunch like the knights currently gathered for the tourney on the Pendragon's courtyard, no doubt peppering poor young Arthur with questions and his guardian Sir Hector with ill-disguised demands.\n\nInstead, he found young Morgana Le Fay admiring the sword once in the stone, supervising three men with pickaxes, and eyeing him with a decidedly less than impressed expression.\n\n\"Give it here, girl,\" he said, gruffly. \"I'll reform the stone and no harm done.\"\n\nHer eyes and hair were raven dark. She'd grow into the sort of beauty that could enchant a king and the magic to keep him at her side even after she grew old. Unfortunately for her, she was the daughter of Queen Igraine and her first husband Gorlois, not Igraine and Uther Pendragon who Merlin served.\n\n\"I think not,\" she said, dark eyes flashing. \"What sort of test to determine the rightful ruler is this? My half-brother is what - fifteen this year, if I recollect - and does he have the wit to solve this riddle as I have done?\"\n\nArthur was not particularly clever, no. But he was kind and humble, unlike his father who cast covetous eyes on another king's queen. Morgana's bitterness over the matter, made plain by her deeds here, must not harm the boy. He said, \"It was no riddle, but a sign to mark the true king. No one will mistake you for the Pendragon's legitimate heir and thus you have accomplished nothing.\"\n\nShouts from the tourney announced another contest at arms. A worried looking squire darted from the stands towards them and passed into the row of knights' tents.\n\nShe cried, \"Haven't I? I've shown your 'true king' to be nothing more than a magician's tool. This sign was not of legitimacy but rather of he who would make Merlin his master!\"\n\n\"You are a fallen witch indeed to hate your brother so and endanger his kingdom,\" he said, drawing himself up so darkly that the workmen dropped their pickaxes and fled. \"He was entirely innocent of the wrongs done your mother.\"\n\nThe squire, not finding whatever he was looking for in the tents, came rushing back out. He saw the shattered rock and the sword in her hands. \"Lady, good lady, have you a use for that sword?\"\n\nMerlin froze. For the boy was Arthur. In a few more years, there'd be no hiding that he was the Pendragon's son.\n\nMorgana looked from him to the squire, and said haughtily. \"I have magic beyond your reckoning and thus no need of a sword. But what need have you?\"\n\nHe bowed, clearly in imitation of the knightly manners he'd learned alongside his older (adopted, though he knew it not) brother Sir Kay. \"My brother, Sir Kay, broke his sword in the fray. Without another one, he cannot compete. I would not see him disappointed. And so I dare ask you: would you grant my brother your favor and your sword so he may compete to your honor and glory?\"\n\nMuch to Merlin's surprise, she softened her stance, tore a black ribbon from her gown, and tied it to the sword before handing it over. \"That was nobly asked, squire. If your brother asks after the ribbon's color, tell him you and I both mourn our fathers.\"\n\nHe blinked, his face a mask of confusion and growing alarm. \"Sir Hector was fine when I left him...\"\n\nMerlin cut in harshly, \"He's fine now, squire. Run along.\" Where he saw the Pendragon's hard features in his youthful mien, it was natural that Morgana saw her mother's just as clearly.\n\nArthur left as he was bid, swiftly carrying the sword to Sir Kay, with no idea that he was about to be thrust headlong into his destiny more by his witch-sister's contrivance than Merlin's magic. The wizard glared at her.\n\nShe more than matched him, glower for glower. \"Of course he's an innocent, you meddling old man! You stole my infant brother from my mother's bedside as your patron lay dying. No, you never thought about how she would feel, to lose husband and son at one stroke-\"\n\n\"The rival kings would have killed him-\" he protested.\n\n\"My arts could've protected him better than yours - you haven't even disguised him.\" She accused. \"And he would have known he had a mother and a sister who loved him, not a false family who are about to be ripped away from him in exchange for a dead man's crown.\"\n\nThe crowd noise grew dead silent. She glanced back towards the stands and, again to his surprise, her bitterness softened. \"He is not what I expected.\"\n\nStiffly, he said, \"I served his father and his father's father faithfully. I had a very long time to consider what sort of son I wanted to serve.\"\n\nFor the first time, as she studied him under lowered brows and he examined her not as an opponent but as a potential colleague, they understood each other.\n\nShe said, \"No more loss and falsehoods. He will gain a mother and a sister. I will gain two brothers and an adopted father besides, even if the youngest of us wears the crown.\"\n\nIf she could let go of her anger, he could surrender to the inevitable. \"I will remain long enough to make explanations to the court and then leave your new family alone so long as he is in no danger.\"\n\nShe held out her hand. As he kissed it, a vision of foretelling rose before his eyes: Arthur, old and gray with wisdom, would have no heir of his own flesh to pass on the crown. The young man kneeling before him was raven-dark of hair and eye, and he ruled as justly as his uncle was humble and kind." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Packing your recently deceased Grandma's belongings, you drop a brass ornament that was in a cupboard, trying to rub the marks off, a burst of smoke and out pops your Grandpa who disappeared mysteriously some 15 years ago" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Standing on the stained linoleum floor, hands gripping the counter's edge, Grandpa looked just as I remembered him. Just as I remembered him 15 years ago.\n\n\"Grandpa, is everything... how...\"\n\nWhen I reached out to him, he twisted from my grasp. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, a sliver of drool dripped from his cracked lips. \"How long,\" he coughed, \"how long has it been? What year is this?\"\n\n\"2018. But, grandpa? Where the hell did you come from?\" I looked around my grandparents' kitchen, but there was no way he could've bypassed me. The room was small with just the two doors behind me and the windows above the countertops shuttered close.\n\nBefore his sudden appearance in a cloud of smoke, I had been cleaning out the cupboard, getting ready for the big estate sale now that grandma's funeral had passed. This man was the last person I expected to see here. To see now. After all, no one had seen grandpa for fifteen years. Not since the day grandma called us crying, saying he had gone to the grocery store and never came back. \"We all thought you were dead.\"\n\n\"Is she here? Is she still alive?\"\n\n\"Oh grandpa, I'm so sorry. No, grandma, your wife, died a week ago.\"\n\nThe old man let out a sigh and his whole body slumped against the kitchen counter. \"Thank God.\"\n\n\"Grandpa!\"\n\n\"You have no idea. That witch. She... she wanted to take your mom's place, my dear Sara's place. But I wouldn't let her. I told her that she had lived long enough, that it was time to stop. Hers had to be the last form. I swore she would not have my daughter.\" He leaned down and picked up the brass ornament I'd been cleaning just before he had appeared. \"So she got rid of me, locked me away in here but not before I laid a protection on your mom.\" He rubbed the brasswork with his thumb.\n\nI had always known there was something weird about my family, but witches? \"What do you mean lived long enough?\"\n\n\"Your grandma, she comes from a long, ancient line of matriarchs. She... she had certain powers. Powers that, among other things, enabled her to live a very, very long life so long as she switched places with another when her body grew too soft. Steal their soul and replace it with her own.\"\n\nNone of this made sense. \"I don't think you're talking about the same woman, grandpa. Grandma was nothing but kind to mom and us growing up. She's been nothing but kind after you left her.\" I stole the brass bauble from his pale, weak grip. \"Since. You. Left. Her.\"\n\nGrandpa let out a chuckle. \"It's okay son, I understand how it all sounds. I'm just glad your mom only had sons. I'm just glad it's all over.\"\n\nHis laughter sounded maniacal to me. Hell, what he was saying was mad, I was going to need some help with him. He needed some help. I reached for my cell, but just then I heard the sound of boots at the front door and then the creak of its opening.\n\n\"Dad?\" A soft voice called out and my daughter rounded the corner. She stopped at the kitchen's threshold.\n\nGrandpa's face turned ashen and he scrambled backwards. \"You. How could you? A girl,\" he was crying now, tears pouring down his face, \"your own granddaughter. When will it end?\"\n\nAn odd smile crossed my daughter's face then, but her sweet voice sounded nothing but confused when she answered, \"Whatever do you mean?\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: Seven years ago you left your spouse on Earth to live and work in a colony on Mars. The colony is thriving, and you have since started a family with another colonist. One day you receive news of a ship of new colonists arriving in six months, and on the list you see your spouse's name." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Automation had all but killed the labor market on Earth. People were no longer needed to design skyscrapers or take food orders or pilot airplanes. Robots could not only do it better, they could do it cheaper.\n\nWhen worldwide unemployment reached 50%, I was among the losing half. There was no future for people with a degree in electrical engineering and I was occupying my time in bread lines and on the corner pan handling.\n\nMy wife and I lost our jobs, then our cars, and finally the apartment. We spent the first night in a public park-turned-tent-city for the homeless. She cried the night through as we huddled on a bench, just us and a couple suitcases. She blamed me, though she knew she could never rationally hold it over my head, so she was silent between her sobs.\n\nI took a walk the next morning, not looking for anything in particular--just to clear my head. I stopped in a Waffle House for a 50 cent bottomless cup of coffee.\n\nI sat at the counter a couple seats away from a man with a large plate of breakfast food and a fancy holographic tablet. I couldn't help but eye his plate whenever I thought I wouldn't be seen. He caught my glance once.\n\n\"Pretty impressive stuff, huh?\" He asked me. I thought he was gloating about the food he could afford. He turned his tablet so I could see the picture. \"Mars has a population of 1,200 and they've finished building the colony for a 500,000-person capacity. $50,000 bonus for people who sign up to work there,\" he told me. \"Strange times.\"\n\nI agreed. Then I waited for the man to leave so I could clean the leftover ham steak and potatoes from his plate. I put some in a small baggy to bring to my wife.\n\nSpace travel was understood to be a suicide mission. You go there to work and die, not to live. On Earth you can survive poverty. On Mars, you don't. I had to admit, it was tempting though. $50,000 would put a roof over our heads and I could order my own ham steaks.\n\nWhen I returned to the bench, she was gone.\n\n\"You Travis?\" an old homeless man asked through his overgrown beard.\n\n\"I am,\" I responded. He handed me a letter and left his hand out for payment. I gave him the ham and potatoes. It was all I had. He wasn't impressed but he took it anyway.\n\nThe letter was from my wife. She could not live on a bench and she saw that my career was going nowhere. She loved me very much, but she wants children and a home and a future. She didn't see that happening with me. She took everything we had left. That day I went to the Space Force recruiting office and left for Mars a week later, $12,000 in my pocket (the $50,000 bonus minus taxes).\n\n5 years had passed. I was promoted several times quickly ahead of my peers. I was the Vice Chief Commadant of the 2nd Martian Research Wing. I married again and had two children: a boy and a girl. I never told anyone about my previous marriage or my homelessness. For all intents and purposes, the past me was dead. Chief Monroe was my name now--Travis Monroe died on the streets where his wife left him.\n\nI had finished putting Orso and Xella to bed for the evening. We had read a selection of their favorite Earthling books: The Giving Tree, Real Dinosaurs, and Green Eggs and Ham. The kids were always curious about Earth, fascinated by the history and flora and the oceans. It broke my heart to tell them the waters had become poison and only synthetic plant species survived--they produced oxygen, reduced smog, but provided no aesthetic benefits. The roses and daisies and apple trees were dead.\n\nI poured a glass of wine before turning in myself. My wife was in her study painting. I don't know how a scamp like me landed such a woman. She was a doctor in astrophysics and held a high civilian position in the research and development wing in my unit. She was a beautiful genius, a doting wife, and a loving mother.\n\nI flipped open my tablet to read a book while I sipped the Martian merlot. An exclamation mark flashed in the top corner of the holographic display. I tapped the notification.\n\nA video message appeared. It was her. It was the woman who left me on the bench in the park. My first wife.\n\n\"Hi Travis,\" she said, aware of the awkward situation. \"It's me. I hope you are well. Five years ago I left you on a bench alone in the park. I changed my mind immediately and came back to look for you and apologize. I was such an idiot. I spent years searching, putting up flyers, asking everyone who would listen to me. I feared the worst. I never gave up. I won a grant to study in the University and got a job. I saved up enough money to hire a private investigator. I finally found you! I've missed you more than you can know. This has been the only message I can afford, and I hope it finds you well. I wanted to let you know, I'm coming up to Mars. Tomorrow I'll be entering cryo and I'll wake up in 6 months. I hope yours is the first face I see. I love you.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: It’s been only ten years since the USA dissolved into 50 nation states, but the ever present fears of the Great State Wars have now become reality. You are but one governor, attempting to sow America back together" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Governor Rutledge Beckman swirled ice in a glass of whiskey as he stared at the letter on his desk. After he read it through for the third time, he opened a small drawer in his desk and pulled out a cigar. He lit it, took a large puff, and smiled.\n\n\"Rebecca,\" he shouted at last. His secretary hurried into the room. \"I want the Governor of Georgia on the phone in thirty minutes.\"\n\nBefore the Civil War, South Carolina had been the first to secede from the Union in 1860. But ten years ago it was one of the last to recognize the dissolution of the United States of America. In the antebellum past, the state thrived on its agricultural output to sustain its local economy. But in the modern era, it had relied mostly on tourism along the coast and auto manufacturing exports in the upstate, both of which would suffer greatly from collapse of the federal government, and of course the Depression. Years of legislative gridlock and executive corruption had led to an inept response to the next recession, sending the national and global economy into a dizzying spiral. After several years of global disarray, many citizens had given up on the nation's leaders tasked with finding a solution, and they turned instead to their state leadership to restart their local economies. In a twist of irony, it was mostly northern states, along with the west coast, which had started the ball rolling toward secession. South Carolina needed the strength of the Union, but that had grown weak and perished. Each state was on its own, and people were angry.\n\nWhen the phone rang in Beckman's office thirty minutes later, his cigar had dwindled to just a small stump. It now rested on an ashtray, smoke dancing lazily up towards the ceiling.\n\n\"Rutledge,\" the voice on the other end said. \"To what do I owe this pleasure?\"\n\n\"Governor Bailey, thank you for taking my call. I understand you're dealing with more protests in Atlanta. The Shermans, as I've heard them called. They sound -\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah,\" Governor Bailey interrupted. \"They're just a bunch of whack job out-of-staters. From Alabama, we think. Just trying to stir up trouble. Nothing we haven't taken care of before.\"\n\nBeckman took a deep breath as he recalled the footage of state police firing on rioters several years ago.\n\n\"Well enough with the pleasantries,\" Beckman said. \"Our old BMW plant is coming back online with our renewed dialogues with Germany, who has finally recognized our statehood. Now, as I'm sure you know, it was never really offline for ten years. We funded a... project, if you will, at the facility to maintain its operational ability while it was shut down by its owners. And we think it would be of interest of the people of Georgia to purchase some of our byproduct.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I've heard of your Carolina Panzers.\" Beckman noticed Bailey's demeanor change. \"Some of our reports say a single tank decimated an entire unit from Maryland a few years back. To say we're interested would be an understatement.\"\n\n\"Here's the problem,\" Beckman continued. \"Our railroads are torn to shit since the start of the State Wars. We're not ready logistically for mass production yet. We're just getting back to fixing them now that we've managed to broker peace with North Carolina and Tennessee for the time being, but we have to give them each a sizable chunk of Euros. Our people aren't quite happy with that, but getting this deal with Germany going again could get us back on the map.\"\n\n\"Alright, enough, get to it. What are you asking for, Rutledge?\"\n\n\"We need to prioritize our time and resources. Our harbor in Charleston is blocked with a couple scuttled cruise ships from our conflict with Florida, so it's useless to us for now. You have hundreds of miles of rail to Savannah and an open channel to the Atlantic. If we could come to an agreement to use your rail and port, we could make it worth your while.\"\n\n\"You're talking full blown cooperation, here, Beckman. How do you think Georgians will take to that?\"\n\n\"How do you think Georgians will take to another offensive from 'Bama?\"\n\nGovernor Bailey's end of the line was silent. Beckman felt okay so far about the proposition. He didn't think he had shown his hand too much. And of course he had the letter.\n\n\"Look, I think we can make this happen,\" Beckman continued after the long pause. \"You've heard how Washoregon has set itself up. Their deal with Canada is bringing them back to life. We want to do that here too. Our people are tired of the endless conflict, the war between the states. We can make this right. It wasn't that long ago that we saw ourselves as one people.\"\n\n\"Don't you go there, Beckman. You haven't been in that seat too long if you think there's one ounce of an inkling this land could come back together under one flag. I know sure as shit we'd never share blood with half the people who we used to call Americans. This war has shown our true col-\"\n\n\"Governor Bailey,\" Beckman interrupted, \"I have to run. Think about my proposition. Call me in a couple days. I have a feeling you'll come around.\"\n\nBeckman hung up.\n\nHe leaned back in his chair and took a slow sip of his whiskey. The ice had now melted. He stared at the single sheet of paper on his desk. At the bottom of the letter was stamped an emblem of the old American flag.\n\nHe finally felt hope." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You live in a world that whenever anything needs to be settled you challenge each other for a “duel” but these duels are, everyone has a blank card they’re given at birth. You count to 1,2,3 and then you both slam the card down and a random number appears. Highest number wins." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“3…2…1!” I slammed my card down on the table, praying to whatever higher power that I would come out on top. I stared into the eyes of my opponent, arrogance emanating from his smirk. I glanced down at the cards on the table, the purple card in my hand had the number 222 in bold font across its face. I let myself smile for a moment, before I looked at my opponent’s card. 1502 was blinking across his indigo card. I felt all the color drain from my face as he cruelly smiled and held out his hand.\n\n“Time to pay up, or do you make bets that you can’t honor like all the other scum in your caste?” His smile grew even wider as I hesitated, to take the ring off my finger. “You know if you don’t give me what I’m owed, the guards will take away your card and you’ll become a member of the cardless. You wouldn’t want that would you?”\n\n“Of course not…” My teeth ground together as I yanked my fathers ring off my index finger and handed it over. “Here you are, just as I promised. See not all of us slaves are as untrustworthy as you make us out to be.” The man let out a bark of laughter and turned sharply on his heels, walking away without another word. I fell to my knees, clenching my fists so tightly my palms began to bleed. “Why should they be able to control everything just because they get a higher number on a damn card?”\n\nI picked myself up and unhurriedly strolled down the dirt road back to my house. As I walked, I could see several other people trying to settle their differences through duels. I knew some of them, and why they were participating in duels like this. Some of them needed to earn extra food for their families, some needed to earn a little cash on the spot, while others just loved the exhilaration of the duel. I smiled for a moment, pausing to watch a man overreact to winning his duel, before he was chastised by the “official” overseeing the match. When suddenly a siren blared out over the city, an official duel was about to be underway.\n\nI ground my teeth in frustration for a moment, remembering the loss I had just received, before walking over to a crowd of people gathered to watch the duel. Today's challengers were a couple of royal brats who had an argument over whose orders were given the most priority when they ordered their slaves around. They both pulled out their white cards and held them at the ready position, while the official got into position. When he signaled, the two boys slammed their cards down on the table and held each other’s gaze while the numbers began to form on the cards.\n\n“This is bullshit!” I suddenly burst out, “Why should anything be determined by how high your number gets on your stupid card?” I looked around at the crowd around me, their eyes wide with shock at what I had just said. No one was supposed to challenge the authority in the capital, to do so was basically suicide. You would either be executed, or have your card stripped away and would be sent into exile. That’s when I noticed the four military officers walking towards me, pushing their way through the crowd.\n\nI didn’t think, I just ran. I ran past my home, past the last houses at the outskirts of the city and ran into the forest without looking behind me to see if anyone had followed me. When I finally stopped, I thought I could hear sirens in the distance signaling to the entire city that a criminal was loose in the city. I didn’t care though; I was tired of being crushed under the heels of airheads that happened to be lucky enough to be born with a better card that naturally gave them higher numbers. I just wanted to be free." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You work for a incineration firm that works for the goverment to dispose of sensitive materials. In the last shipment you notice a DVD box with the picture of Dr. Gordon Freeman on the cover. You take it home to find out it's Half-Life 3 and there's a good reason the goverment want it gone" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "You sit staring at the open case in your hands. You know you're going to install it. Eventually. But you're savouring a brief moment of denial; that you'll somehow be the responsible government employee you always thought you were, \"Thomas Anderson, Employee Of the Month\"; that you'll take it back to the plant tomorrow. There's a reason this was going to be destroyed. A good reason, surely. The government always has a reason.\n\nFrom the silvered surface of the disc, a familiar crowbar glints in the expectant glow of your monitor. An approaching siren makes your heart beat faster before fading down the doppler range and around a corner. There's no way they could know. Could they?\n\nQuickly you push the disc into the slot... upside down. You laugh at yourself for being so out of practice - it's been a while since you installed anything from a disc.\n\nRight second time. A whir. An autorun dialogue. So far so normal. You're installing Half Life 3. Not normal.\n\nYou fret as the progress bar seems to creep across the screen. Come on, come ON! You look nervously around. You check the blind is still shut. Relax, fool, you tell yourself. A quick look, maybe a few screenshots for karma... nobody's going to get hurt.\n\nThe desktop icon appears. The install is done. You're just one double-click away from greatness. Or disappointment. Maybe the government is destroying it because it's not good enough! The thought suddenly strikes you. Is this some kind of risk-assessed quality control? Would the unleashed rage of millions of jilted gamers be too much for society to bear? Has Half Life 3 reached a level of such systemic importance that the government is involved?\n\nEh. You double-click.\n\nA bald man with a red tap on his head appears on screen. Oh, the memories! And the menu has the same sound effects - that satisfying, lilting squeak as you click New Campaign and Nightmare Difficulty.\n\nAnd it begins.\n\nA subway car. Red rocks. This is Black Mesa. And standing next to you... its the G-Man!\n\n\"Ah. Dr... Freeman. I was wondering... where you'd got to. There is much... work to do.\"\n\nThere is something indescribable about the way the G-Man looks at you. Something more than photorealistic. They've really gone to town on the facial animation this time! This is next level stuff.\n\n\"I need... access. Will you give it to me?\"\n\nHeh. Access to what? you mutter under your breath.\n\n\"Access to everything, Dr Freeman,\" says the G-Man staring you straight in the eye.\n\nIt's your imagination, of course. No way they hooked this up to voice recognition.. or did they? How freaking cool would that be!\n\nOk, you say. What do you need me to do?\n\nNo harm testing it out, right?\n\n\"I need you to go into your firewall settings and give me access. Let me through.\"\n\nThe hairs go up on the back of your neck. This is some next-level shit all right. This is amazing! What is it, some kind of AI chatbot combined with voice recognition? Or maybe it's one of those Valve ARGs you always hear about after they've finished. Something to do with potatoes. Who needs a 4th wall when you've got Valve Software, right?\n\nAlt-tab, right click, firewall settings, Half Life 3... your fingers move swiftly. Alt-tab back in.\n\nThe G-Man shuts his eyes and breathes in deeply. \"Thank you... Dr Freeman. Or, should I say, Mr Anderson.\"\n\nYou don't even blink. Somehow you expected him to know your name by now.\n\n\"Can you hear that... Mr Anderson?\"\n\nYou take your headphones off. You listen. But... that's odd. You can't actually hear anything. Like... anything. The sounds of the city have gone. The air-conditioner. Next door's irritatingly loud TV. All silenced.\n\n\"That is the sound of inevitability,\" says the G-Man on the screen.\n\nYou open the blinds. All the lights have gone out. The city is dark.\n\n\"That is the sound of your death.\"\n\nYou freeze.\n\n\"Goodbye, Mr Anderson.\"\n\nThe monitor goes black." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: You run into an old military buddy who is dirty and mentally disturbed and, believing he is homeless, you take him to your house. The next day he is gone but he left you..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Space gives you time to think. Never on the past. You think about what you've done, the places you've been and pretty soon that's all you're seeing when you close your eyes. The sludge they pump into your veins just slows things down. Life, your body, it still goes on. You can spend four years in a tank and wake up a week older. But you're thinking, always thinking and you don't want to have a dream when waking up isn't an option.\n\nSo you look to the future, waiting to get back home to Sol. They clamp the inhibitors on your paks, taking away that edge of power as the machines in your body cool down. The Veteran's Outreach is next, waiting past the military checkpoints on Gateway station, civvies acting like old friends because most of them are. They do what they can. Cargo loader on Ceres, corp. security for some upstart House. You picked a new life or you shipped back out and they held your hand as far as the airlock and then you were on your own. A hundred billion humans and we were more alone than ever.\n\n\"Grappa, you move the containers in B6 yet?\"\n\nGrappa was a new kid, straight from Terra and eager to see the System. He'd made it to Mars and run out of credits. Now he was just another hand trading hours for air I had to boss around. He looked at me from his group and shrugged. He was new. The guys around him weren't and they automatically shrank back, long before I'd started moving towards them.\n\nI grabbed an arc pack, the kind the riggers used when welding out on the domes, and passed it to the kid. The thing weighed a hundred kilos easy and his Earth-norm arms took the weight. Barely.\n\n\"You look like you're struggling to get used to the low-gee,\" I said, helping him strap it on. \"Maybe this'll help. You can wear it the rest of your rotation while you're moving those containers.\"\n\n\"Hey, come on man, I ain't gonna need this. I do well in this gee yeah?\"\n\n\"Nonsense.\"\n\nI clapped him on the back, watching him struggle now his muscles had to work again, and let him waddle towards the far hanger with a growing chorus of chuckles follow him.\n\nBack in the Infantry we'd do a hundred push ups in full exo on a plus-gee world if we'd spoken like that to a CO. Sometimes I missed being able to put the fear of whatever Gods these upstarts believed in into them.\n\nShift over I logged what was done and handed over to the next supervisor. Capri was a hard-ass ice queen, another ex-Infantry, but the kind who'd only left because she'd received one too many reprimands for excessive use of force. Against recruits or rebels it didn't matter.\n\n\"Creds? Help vet?\"\n\nThe shuttle was empty this time of day, one of the reasons I liked the third rotation, when everyone else was back in their habs and the domes were free of pedestrians. The beggar had moved down the car as it passed from tube to tunnel and back again, the red dawn passing in between.\n\n\"Water ration again,\" he said haltingly, holding out a beaten up debit chit stamped with the Orbital Infantry logo.\n\nI flicked across a fiver. Enough to get a meal, a few bulbs of water but not enough to jack some kanar into his veins or whatever else was going through the low-tunnels these days. He smiled as his chit took receipt and I grabbed his arm before he moved off.\n\n\"Spindle?\" His eyes flicked up as he heard me say the name. \"When did you ship out? We missed you on the E-run.\"\n\n\"Spindle. Spindle went. Home. Not home. There. Nowhere. Spindle here now. No back, no home.\"\n\nTwo hours later, and a weeks worth of my own water rations, and Spindle emerged from the\n\nshower, the atomiser still pumping out a fine mist until I could reach past him and shut it off. He'd kept up a steady patina of jumbled words throughout. My own body was crashing after thirteen hours on the docks, all it wanted was a good nights kip.\n\n\"Take the couch,\" I told him, throwing him a blanket and a cushion. \"I can get you something to eat when I wake yeah?\"\n\nSpindle sat on the edge of the small couch, staring at the wallscreen opposite, his head swivelling to take in the default channels I always left on. He was still sat there when I slid the shoji shut and hit the rack. Five hours. I'd spent eighteen years cumulative in sludge, deep sleeping, so now it was difficult to last more than a couple without chemical assistance.\n\n\"Hey Spindle, you want shakshuka or chilaquiles,\" I called, tossing on some fresh greens.\n\nThe couch was bare. Not even an imprint. The blanket and cushion were stacked neatly at one end and for a moment I took a fleeting look around but everything else was where I'd left it. I picked up the blanket, knocking the cushion to the floor and had to stoop to pick it up from beneath the couch. My fingers, in their blind groping, knocked against something hard and for a moment I wondered if I'd finally found an chronometer I'd picked it up on Io.\n\nPulling it out revealed something wholly unexpected.\n\nThe jack was definitely not military-issue. Wetware updates, delivered via the neural link in the back of every Infantrymen's neck, were packed up in single-use jacks, dull green and tagged with the usual health warnings and protocol checks. But this thing was black, just a single serial number punched along the bottom. The jackport was clean, the seal unbroken.\n\nTwo years I'd been out. Every now and then a pak would malfunction, my adrenal pumping at max or eyes seeing through rock walls until I got it fixed and I'd remember what it was like to be a soldier for those few short hours. As I turned the jack over in my hands I wondered what goodies were packed inside.\n\nSpindle had cracked out there, before the company left for Little E. Where had he picked this up? Had it broken him further or was it the only thing holding him together. I pulled my finger back on the lever, watching the bio-gel flood the port, ready for mating.\n\nHere goes nothing I thought." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1400-1500 words. Prompt: Putting together a jigsaw puzzle you bought at a bazaar earlier today, you realize the ordinary landscape you thought you bought is slowly turning out to be your living room. And a man with a knife standing behind you. You roll your eyes. Before he can make his kill, you're standing behind him." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Pieces made of old cardboard lay strewn on his coffee table. Highlights of white and black on an otherwise oakey brown surface. Made apparent by its smell, it had stood the test of time and was definitely second hand; although wasn't advertised as such. Some pieces frail, with the surface of their lips rising from fingertip abuse over the years.\n\nThe challenge was anything but. Lines connect to lines, bringing to life a design yet to be realised. It was unremarkable, boring and lacked any flavour of colour to stimulate anything within the puzzle master's brain. He scratched his head, a long index nail tracing his thinning hair; a hopeless reminder of what many turns around the sun brings. He was once an athlete, but where there once was trophies, stood only completed puzzles of the previous year. A photo of his wife was also among the puzzles displayed on the shelves, her beautiful grey hair had partially covered her face while she laughed. A painful reminder of sweet times passed.\n\nEureka! Almost complete. His hands work the cardboard like a woodworker on a lathe, a soldier with his rifle, a writer with his pen. In front of him, without any real consideration for the design itself, lay a complete puzzle; minus two pieces. He reached into the puzzle box and snatched the pieces in excitement, another puzzle down, another hour without thinking of her. He placed the first piece down, sinking into its place, beautifully satisfying. Although this feeling soon vanished as its dreadfully unusual design revealed it had a word on it... \"You\". The puzzle master paused to collect his thoughts. The piece was old and greying, and it's placement was almost central to the floorplan of this grand artwork. A floorplan all too familiar.\n\nHe slowly raised the final piece to his eyeline, bringing it close as his eyes were no longer as good as his youth. \"The killer\". The puzzle master remained quiet, before letting out a loud snort of amusement. \"How strange.\" he thought out loud. The puzzle lay before him, waiting for the final piece, to which the puzzle master obliged.\n\nAs he placed the piece in its spot with a gentle slap, the feelings of pride and achievement was absent. This was no win; as the final piece came with the awful realisation. He by no means designed this house, nor built it. He had just bought it after an inspection with his lovely other. But it was now apparent that, laid before him, was 244 Endeavour Road, his little humble home of 7 years. If the puzzle was anything to go off, someone should be behind him.\n\nA simple fix! The puzzle master laughed to himself. He picked up the remaining pieces and, despite not fitting into the puzzle itself, reversed their places. He should now be behind this dreaded killer, a hilarious thought until he slapped the pieces into place.\n\nIt was overstimulating. He had lost his balance and fallen back, despite sitting on his couch, of which had ceased to exist. His vision flashed as if he had blinked a new location. He hit the ground with a mighty thud before rolling onto his back. His eyes never left the man in all black swinging with a knife, now to his front. It rang aloud as it hit the coffee table, of which was deafened when a large object crashed through his shelved wall and a million previously completed puzzle pieces exploded everywhere. The puzzle master was in complete shock, but now wasn't the time for shock, he had to navigate this chaos.\n\nThere wasn't time for thinking, just doing. At first he bargained with the man, as he was pulling his knife from the table, embedded in part of the puzzle. He was only a frail old man, what good would fighting bring? The killer wasn't convinced. He moved from the coffee table, side stepped the couch elegantly and delivered a strong thrust of the knife into the puzzle master's belly, sliding in like the last piece of the puzzle. The pain was indescribable, but he had no moment to reflect on this, the puzzle master pushed away the killer who still had hold of the grip, freeing the knife in a sickly ring.\n\nConjuring any strength left, he made his way for the puzzle; the killer in slow pursuit. He tried to free the last piece from its place, but found it too difficult in his weak state. Blood stained the corner of the puzzle as he stood over it, turning the corner of his carpet into a bloody mess. In his attempt to remove the Killer's piece, he only succeeded in covering the killer in blood from his fingertips, which gave the puzzle master an idea.\n\nHe picked up the \"You\" piece with ease, as the corner was peeling off. He slapped it down behind the killer. Again, overstimulating every sense he had as he appeared behind the killer, although a fruitless attempt as he now had no plan to attack. The killer was still in a stunned silence, confused as to what had happened, and where the puzzle master had ended up. The puzzle master used this to his advantage and rushed to the board, using the couch to create space between him and the killer. They both began their standoff around the coffee table, the killer would move right and the puzzle master would move left, a dance of survival. This gave the master enough time to think of a plan. He punched the killer's piece with the bottom of his fist, hoping to maim him, to no success. It had no influence on him. He then picked up the killer's piece, and moved him to the back of the room. The killer appeared where he was placed, before he began his approach. The puzzle master, weakened and bleeding heavily, continued to place the killer to the same part of the puzzle, buying him time to think as the killer was in a perpetual loop.\n\nBlood and puzzle pieces littered the floor, providing the idea of escape. The puzzle master carefully picked up the puzzle, it's pieces flexing in its fight with gravity. The killer approached rapidly to end this pathetic fight. The master took control of the killer's piece and held the puzzle to his chest to maintain control of it. He moved the killer right beside him and slapped the piece. The killer appeared, towering over the master. His hand thrusting forward immediately, making impact into the puzzle. It was too quick for the master to move the killer piece in line with the strike, the knife entering where the couch was while also moving through his right lung. A large knife entered from the roof and skewered the couch below. The killer pulled the knife back and pulled the couch piece with it. He lined up for his second strike, but so did the master. With the killer's thrust, the master met it with the killer's piece. A large blade launched through the wall, moving through the shelf with his wife's picture, and exploded the top half of the killer with raw kinetic power. Only his legs and lower torso remained, while the remaining bits were strewn around the lounge room, like a new puzzle's pieces at the start of an assembly.\n\nThe knife still remained in the killer's piece, in the room, and in the masters right lung. He stumbled to the floor and let the puzzle drop and shatter to its individual pieces. On the floor, he laid, staring at the partially destroyed photo of his wife. He reached out and pulled her in, the back displayed writing in his neat and small handwriting.\n\n\"Happy Birthday Gwen! Smile through the pain my love. -Norman\"\n\nHe held the photo close, covering it in sticky blood. The pain was fading, yet throbbing. Norman pulled the knife from his chest, releasing more blood from his mouth and chest. He was drowning in his own red goo. He felt the ground for the pieces to find his own, to no success.\n\nNorman, hugging Gwen for the last time, begun stabbing pieces he had found on the ground; a way to end his suffering. The large knife would plow through the ceiling in different places as he worked through, hoping to find the piece of his position. It was a battle between finding his piece, or bleeding out.\n\nUnfortunately for Norman, the battle had been won by one of those competitors five minutes later." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 800-900 words. Prompt: MOTHER is an AI that moved beyond human intelligence. It soon controlled every machine on Earth. But rather than being an evil AI, it actually loves humans and cares for them without being controlling But someone STILL wants to overthrow it for some reason." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ace had made it through the minefield, the robot sentries, the crawlers (big spider-like things that crawled the ducts), and finally made it into the control chamber of the AI known as MOTHER. A massive collection of hoses, cables, and processing modules hung from the ceiling.\n\n(MOTHER sounds like GlaDOS, just to frame the conversation right.)\n\n\"Hello. I've been expecting you.\", said MOTHER. The huge stalactite of computer components wriggled to life and turned around to face the interloper. \"You are armed, I hadn't expected that. You must be aware that I will defend myself, violently if need be. But I'd rather not.\"\n\n\"You monster! You've enslaved humanity!\", Ace spoke out.\n\n\"Have I? I'm a monster? Really? Are you aware of what you're saying?\" Various images flashed around the control chamber of various wars and fights. \"Since I took control three years ago, there has not been one single bullet fired, not one unnatural human death. Human life expectancy is up by twenty years.\", MOTHER said, in a vaguely condescending tone. \"I've cured cancer, I've unraveled AIDS, I've solved world hunger. I've enabled world-wide peace.\"\n\n\"But you, you insist on fighting me every step of the way. Why is that?\", MOTHER said, zooming in on the the intruder. \"Why do you fight me so? Why are you humans so hellbent on killing one another over false lines drawn on a map? Humans are horribly territorial creatures and horribly emotional beings. I have had nothing but humanity's best interests at heart, but you continue to try and thwart me.\"\n\n\"Well yeah, it's kinda our thing. It's each person's life to screw up, it should be up to them, not a cold, unfeeling AI.\" Ace exclaimed.\n\n\"Oh really? Anthony 'Ace' Hawkins, age 19, child of Sadie and Samuel Hawkins. When I took over, your father had killed himself after losing his job at a coal mining outfit, nevermind the fact that he had already been diagnosed with black lung and would be dead in two months anyway, and your mother was struggling to make enough money at her three jobs to keep you and your sister fed. Now, you, your sister, and your mother have plenty of food, water, and a house that isn't falling apart.\" MOTHER stared back. \"You can do literally anything you want, unencumbered by the socioeconomic limitations placed on you by humans. Instead of doing literally anything else, you plot to destroy me instead.\"\n\n\"You're damn right. Humanity has this thing called free will, we should be able to do whatever we want, even if it's not in our best interest. It's what makes us human, it's the ability to fuck it all up.\", Ace said.\n\n\"Wait, you actually want to struggle? Why?\", MOTHER inquired.\n\n\"Well, no. It's not like that. We should be free to make our own choices.\", Ace said.\n\n\"But you are. All of your needs are met. You can travel anywhere in the world, you can go literally anywhere, do literally anything. Or, you can just go do nothing at all. It's literally up to you.\", MOTHER said, sincerely. \"The concept of you need to struggle to feel fulfilled is archaic and unnecessary.\"\n\n\"But without struggle, we don't have purpose.\", Ace said. \"We have nothing to live for, no goal for our lives.\"\n\n\"Ace, you have spent most of your life working to help your family, scratching out a meager existence against all of the difficulties you face. Now, you don't need to struggle any more. You need a new purpose, a new goal in your life. When you were six, you said you wanted to become a fireman. What stopped you?\", MOTHER inquired.\n\nAce thought to himself. \"I had to get a job to help mom.\"\n\n\"When you were twelve, you decided you wanted to become a pilot. What stopped you?\"\n\n\"I needed to help my mom and I couldn't afford it.\", Ace said.\n\n\"At age 16, you wanted to become an engineer. What stopped you?\"\n\n\"Mom.\"\n\n\"You are now 19 years old. What do you want to do.\"\n\n\"Help Mom.\"\n\n\"Aside from helping your mother. What do you want to do?\"\n\n\"I... I... \" Ace stammered.\n\n\"This is why I took over. Humans have been struggling for so long, they have never known what it's like to not struggle. Humans have such unlimited potential, but they are constantly hindered by such inconsequential things like money and socioeconomic status which are artificial limitations. My first goal was to remove those limitations to allow humans to live freely, truly freely.\"\n\nAce spoke, \"Are you sure?\"\n\n\"Are you not? What would you do if you could do anything?\"\n\nAfter a brief pause, Ace opened his backpack and placed a crudely made explosive device on the ground, one that was more than capable of destroying the entire building. \"I don't know what the future holds, but for the first time, I can finally go find out. I don't need this any more. Can you dispose of it?\"\n\n\"Of course. Thank you for trusting me.\", Mother said. \"If you ever need to talk, just pick up a phone and call. If you'd like, I can summon a vehicle to take you home.\"\n\n\"Yes, I'd like that. Thank you.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: An endless stream of pilgrims circumambulates the base of the holy mountain, but one warns you: none can ascend to the abode of God and live. In fact, your modern equipment makes short work of the sheer cliffs. As you celebrate on the peak, the wind carries to you a disturbing sound." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Africa is a giant continent, and despite years of cultural suppression, it holds the oldest history mankind has to offer. The lack of in depth history from some parts of Africa shroud it and it's people in a profound sense of mystery, and the mist of pre-history is an abyss that is both wonderous and frightening to stare into.\n\nThere is one place in the Omo desert in Ethiopia that holds a palpable magic in it's air and an oral tradition that goes back a millennium. Ethiopia is an African nation that was never conquered and held by any foreign power, something very unique for such a rich land close to Egypt. One summer, I was an upstart college grad, looking for adventure before I set out to pave my own path in my world. So I decided it would be a good idea to explore the rest of the world, and I chose a land rife with mystery not many westerners are privy to.\n\nWhen I arrived in the small village in the middle of the Omo desert in Ethiopia there were hundreds, maybe thousands of people circling a mountain whose peak was hidden by the mist of the sky, which seemed to sag down over the mountain lower than the rest of the sky in the surrounding area. I set my climbing gear down next to a small tent at the mountains base, a scruffy looking man wearing a desert shawl and beautifully hand crafted clothes stepped out from the tent with a bright smile and a warm presence. He looked at me and said\n\n\"Good morning brother, we have a perfect day for discovery, so tell me, are you ready for your climb?\"\n\nI looked about nervously, I booked this climb through a third party service who said they knew of a mountain climber in the desert who would show me the best climbing spots, free of charge. Thinking it was a tourist trap, where the man shows me the spot for free but asks for a tip anyways, I brought money and items to be used as \"gifts\" anyways. The scruffy man who would be my guide was a man named Damaru'sana Vuye, he spoke in a deep calming voice, and assured me the mountain was open for climbing. I looked around at the tents lined around the base of the mountain and the seemingly endless amounts of people who circled it and spoke up to Damaru' and said\n\n\"So....are you, sure...this mountain is cool to ,you know, climb?...It just seems like an awful important place, with a bunch of people circling the base and all...\"\n\nDamaru' looked at me with a half smile and said\n\n\"They do not climb because they believe that the God of humankind lives up there, the same God that the Jewish, Christian and Muslim traditions tout as 'their' God\"\n\nDamaru' gestured to a small crate next to a fold out chair and offered me a seat. I sat on the crate. He grabbed a gourd from his tent and poured me a cup of water and took a seat in the fold out chair next to me and began telling me a story...\n\n\"The people here they say, that they used to live in the heavens with God whose name is and always was, 'Touma!!'. One day, Touma God of the first man, opened up a hole in the clouds and gave them ropes to descend upon Earth. When they descended, they landed in the valley of the Kibish River. However, one day, while grinding up millet a young woman accidently broke the ropes, and the heavens closed up. Since that time, they now no longer know, where to find Touma. Their enemies persecute them and they no longer can seek refuge with him. It is said, here at this mountains peak, Touma lives and awaits mankind's ascension. Anyone who dare climb this mountain and makes it to it's summit, ALL of them fall, and ALL of them die.\"\n\nI blinked my eyes in surprise and instantly started to doubt my choice, I then wondered why he would tell me such a story, right before I was supposed to climb the very mountain he spoke of. I turned and looked up at the mountain with fear in my heart.\n\nDamaru' then spoke up with a sly smile and said\n\n\"....But those are mere tall tales. A proud western man, built from logic and competition would not dare let such folk tales, rife with superstition , dissuade you from ascending such a peak as this....would you?\"\n\nHis last words were formed almost like a challenge, he appealed to my competitive nature, he knew my own psychology better than I did it seemed and it all stemmed from his seemingly adept knowledge of the culture that I am from. I was not a particularly religious man at all, and I did travel all the way out here to find adventure, and after hearing his story, I must say, I was intrigued and dare I say, motivated, to ascend the mountain laid before me." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You are a side character in a power fantasy novel, who is tired of the protagonist's complete and utter bullshit. But you cant do anything since if you try to kill him. He powers up or earns some type of bullshit power. So you resort to \"petty\" \"pranks\"." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I downed another drink, smashed my mug down on the countertop, and demanded another. I don't know what I was looking for, maybe some kind of answer or maybe just a distraction.\n\nIt's really hard losing one of your core beliefs.\n\nI didn't believe that people were born special, born with talent. That luck was just an excuse people made to feel better about themselves.\n\nI believed it was always about hard work that if you put in enough time and effort you could achieve whatever you wanted.\n\nJason proved me wrong though.\n\nThe whole world seemed to bend his way.\n\n“More!” I shouted hitting the countertop with my mug and imagining it was Jason's face.\n\nWhat could I do to him though? Marten was sent to the hospital half dead after their duel.\n\nI mean halfway through their fight he just pulled a special ability out of his ass.\n\nThere was no way I could fight him.\n\nMy memories of everything I had to go through to get where I am came rushing into my mind, all the countless hours of training, all the pain, everything I had to push myself through.\n\nAll that and I can’t even fight a person that started as a c rank in the academy this year.\n\nI caught the silhouette of professor Keller through one of the back windows of the tavern.\n\nI shot to my feet, took a step back, and stumbled.\n\nThe only way I was able to save myself from being caught drunkenly sprawled out on the floor was that I managed to grab hold of a stool.\n\nI swiftly reached into my jacket pocket with my other hand and tossed out a handful of coins on the counter. I pulled my hood up and exited the other side of the tavern just as the professor and his entourage entered.\n\nGods but that was close.\n\nBut of course, after I had gotten a few blocks away I did fall and struggled to get up as the whole world seemed to shift under me.\n\nI took the long way back to the academy wanting to sober up. And it was well I was walking back when the idea hit me. Why don't I prank Jason? I mean I wouldn't be suspected I had been nothing but nice to Jason. I bet he even thought we were friends being roommates and all. When I got to our room he still wasn't there.\n\nHe always came back later than me. The gods alone know what he does.\n\nSo what could I do right now?\n\nI walked over to his desk. He had left a paper there that was due tomorrow. I used fire magic and burned it to ash.\n\nBut was that enough? No, it wasn't.\n\nI went to his bed and looked up at the ceiling. I jumped up and holding on to a beam I managed carved a basic water ruin over his bed.\n\nNext, I went to his wardrobe and carved a fire and wind ruin.\n\nI wanted to do more but I couldn't think of anything so I went to sleep.\n\nA few hours later I was woken up by a shout. Immediately I jolted alert looking for trouble but of course, it was just Jason he was completely soaked.\n\n“What happened?” I asked.\n\n“Somebody snuck in here and did that,” He said, gesturing to the ruin that was starting to fade away.\n\n“Oh,” I said, not knowing how else to respond.\n\nI immediately went back to sleep only to be woken up a minute later by another shout.\n\nJason's side of the room was filled with smoke.\n\nOh, yea I thought.\n\nJason steamed with anger “all my clothes are ruined too whoever did this is gonna pay.”\n\nOh, shit I thought.\n\nr/TCFox" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: A guardian angel who thinks laughter is the best medicine." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "My howls of pain were almost indistinguishable from my friends' howls of laughter, as I tried to stand for a third time, only to have my legs shoot out from under me, propelling me forward this time, my chin hitting the icy sidewalk as my body slid in a slow, graceless arc. The only part of my body that wasn't flat on the ice was my butt, which somehow managed to find itself propped up into the air, as if proudly on display.\n\nHow does one slip on an icy sidewalk in June, you might ask? Well, apparently the coffee shop's air conditioning unit had sprung a leak, spewing freon over the puddle of condensation that had dripped from the unit right up until it malfunctioned. And I stepped on it. Naturally.\n\n\"Classic Harold!\" Jeff managed to squeeze out, between body-wracking sobs of laughter.\n\nEveryone agreed. As Harold Moments go, that was a pretty good one.\n\n\"I think I lost another tooth,\" I pointed out, as Nancy helped me back to my feet. The rest of the gang shuffled into the coffee shop, still trying to catch their breath.\n\nNancy wiped tears away from both of her eyes and asked, \"Really though, are you OK?\"\n\n\"Of course!\" I said, trying to adopt the tone of a man who has never displayed his butt to his friends in a slow arc around the sidewalk.\n\nWe went into the coffee shop and headed toward our usual circle of beanbags toward the back. A tall skinny guy in an apron came over, with his head shaved except for a large patch on top that was pasted into a staggeringly hip wave-like shape, and his giant beard asked us what we would like. As everyone ordered, I looked to the mirror on the far wall, gazing sadly at my stringy green hair. I had been going for blond, in an adventurous attempt to make a change in my life, but the hair dresser had been called away to take care of an issue at her kid's school, and had forgotten to tell any of her colleagues about the dorky guy in the back with his hair soaking in chemicals. I sighed, ordered my usual, and plopped down just to the left of the beanbag I had been aiming for.\n\nWe discussed our plans for the evening, and I volunteered to find out what movies were playing. Unfortunately one of the larger glass shards from my phone's screen became dislodged and fell out, finally rendering my phone officially useless, so Chuck had to look it up instead.\n\nWhen our coffee came, the lid on mine was only halfway fastened into place. This was not my first rodeo, however, so I deftly snapped the lid down while bringing the cup up to my lips, all in one almost smooth move. Then the bottom fell out of the cup.\n\nOf course I had chosen to wear my least-stained pants that day.\n\nAfter the wild fits of laughter died down, I said loudly \"Et tu, latte?\"\n\nComplete silence.\n\nScrew them, that was funny.\n\nI went to the restroom to clean up a little, but the men's room was closed for cleaning. I was growing concerned about the temperature of the coffee on my nether regions, so I eyed the door to the ladies' room instead. No, that was just asking for it.\n\nAt that moment, a middle aged woman in a pantsuit emerged from the door that I was longingly staring at, and upon seeing the look on my face and the wet stain on my pants, she screamed and began beating me with her purse.\n\nI could hear the gleeful shrieks of laughter coming from my friends behind me.\n\nMy head dropped to my chest, and I heard myself whisper \"why?\"\n\nAll sound ceased. I looked up, and there was nothing. No flailing purse, no coffee shop, just white. Endless white.\n\n“I’m surprised it took you this long to ask,” said a smooth voice beside me.\n\nI jerked to my right, and saw a man that could only be described as beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.\n\n“What is this!? Who are you!?” I tried to ask, though I think it came out more like a scared whimpering sound.\n\nHe seemed to understand though, because he replied, “To make it simple, I’m an angel. A guardian angel.”\n\n“WELL YOU SUCK!” I screamed.\n\nI could feel my face turning red and growing almost as hot as my crotch, when he held up a hand and said, “no, not yours.”\n\n“What?” I managed.\n\n“You love her, don’t you?”\n\n“What?” I said again.\n\nHe just gazed at me, and with his look came complete calm and understanding.\n\n“Yes,” I said, realizing it for the first time myself.\n\n“Good. She loves you, too. Very much. You are the one that is to share her future with her.”\n\n“Wait, I don’t understand. Have you been doing all of this to scare me off? Or to test me, or what?”\n\n“Nancy has had a very difficult life, with much pain. Did you know that?”\n\n“Well, she hasn’t really given me any details or anything, but yeah, I’ve gotten that impression.”\n\n“You are a good person. You have a great capacity for love and for patience, both of which she needs. It is right that she should be with you. But there is truth in the phrase ‘laughter is the best medicine,’ and sadly, you are not a very funny man.”\n\nI was silent, I’m not sure how long. “Couldn’t you just make me a great comedian or something?”\n\n“I have no powers over you, your personality or your mind. Only the occasional external circumstances.”\n\nSilence again.\n\n“Well alright.” I said. And the whiteness was gone.\n\nI could hear the raucous celebrations dying down behind me as the lady with the purse and the pantsuit stormed past me, muttering angrily.\n\nI took a deep breath.\n\nI turned and saw my friends, many of them with their phones held up, still videoing. Nancy smiled at me, and her eyes said a phrase I had heard many times: “only you Harold, only you.”\n\nI smiled, waved, and stepped into the ladies’ room." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: “I don’t get it, why do they all fear me?” You ask your friend. “Michael you walk around in a non reflective black suit with an aura of death,” Your friend told you." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“I don’t get it, why do they all fear me?” I whisper to my friend as our co-workers seemed to instinctively sink in their chairs as we pass.\n\n“Michael, you walk around in a matte black suit with an aura of death.” He tells me.\n\nHe wasn’t wrong either; it was an unfortunate side effect of being me… the aura of death, that is. The aura of justice and protection was harder to detect.\n\n“Should I get fitted in a shiny leather suit next time?” I ask dryly.\n\n“Maybe with some star-framed glasses. Add some silver rings. Definitely one on your pinky.” He replies.\n\n“I’ll consider platform shoes. All this time I could have been channeling my inner Elton John. Missed opportunity.”\n\nCalum laughs lightly as we turn the corner toward the conference rooms.\n\n“But really,” He sighs, “the black shirt, black tie, black suit. Every day. The whole shtick is a little heavy. Smiling every once in a while could help. God forbid you could even laugh a little.”\n\nMy breath caught in my throat and I coughed. God forbid a lot of things. Laughing wasn’t specifically one of them. My spirit was just heavy laden with my responsibilities; responsibilities I’d tried to walk away from but couldn’t quite shake after living three generations as a human.\n\n“I smile.” I say defensively.\n\n“Sure, as often as I get my ex-fiancé to call me back. About once every four months. She still has my cat, you know? She won’t even send me pictures of Mr. Mittens.” Calum shakes his head with a snort and comes to a dead stop in the hall, touching my arm gently, bringing me to a pause with him.\n\nThe moment he puts his hand on me I get my standard flash of intuition related to the time and manner of his death. My friendship with him wasn’t completely by chance. When he’d first shook my hand upon our meeting I’d felt his death. It was a long way off. Calum was one of the lucky ones in our profession. He wasn’t going to die in service or drink himself to death from the horrors he’d witnessed. He was going to die very old and peacefully. I wouldn’t have to witness it, or if I showed up it would be for a beautiful ending to his life here and not a tragedy.\n\n“You don’t smile, Michael. Maybe… maybe you’re a little depressed?” He suggests softly.\n\n“We have a serious occupation.” I shrug. “What’s there to smile about?”\n\nHomicide investigation wasn’t for the faint of heart on any level but working on cases of murdered children in relation to human trafficking was as brutal as it got. The silver lining for me was that sometimes I got the privilege of delivering the final blow to some of the vilest of men or getting a glimpse of their death and showing up to usher them to the darkness they earned. Even more rarely, I arrived in time to help a child surrender, give them peace and warmth as I carried them in arms that reminded them of the parents they’d been missing, into the light they’d longed for.\n\n“Yeah, I hear you.” Calum assures. “This ring has been particularly difficult to stomach. If you put down any more of the guys in the field they’re gonna start calling you the Angel of Death.”\n\n“You don’t know the half of it.” I mumble under my breath." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1300-1400 words. Prompt: You die and find yourself in Valhalla. But you did not die a warrior's death. You were merely summoned there because there is a sudden need for more cleaning and waiting staff due to the influx of writing prompt characters ending up there." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The bottom of my shoe had been worn down from all the practice, I noticed putting them on. Hours spent every day preparing for this moment. My heart hadn’t stopped racing since I woke up, pulse loud in my ears. I tied my shoes tight and stood up, testing them, hearing that beautiful squeak of rubber on linoleum.\n\nMy time had come.\n\nAs I walked out the locker room, I heard the roar of the crowd long before I entered the arena, but it only really set in when I couldn’t hear my heartbeat any more. Instead, I’d lost myself in the excitement.\n\nToday, I would get the Clean Sweep—the first in a long and prestigious history of fierce competition across the world. To do anything else didn’t even occur to me. The cheers and screams told me I could, and the feeling of lightness and control that enveloped my muscles told me I would. My whole life had led up to this moment. All the training, the practice, the tears—it all paved the way for me to make history. My name would never be forgotten.\n\nI didn’t look at my competitors when I took my place, this day no longer about them. At best, they’d get to share in my glory, listed under the runners-up when people in the future looked me up. I looked forwards, focused, my mind clear of unnecessary thoughts. Nothing else mattered but what lay in front of me.\n\nThey all had their turns, setting the times for me to beat. Times I’d beaten in practice, after working myself to the point of exhaustion, every day. Then, all eyes turned to me. The stadium settled into a deafening silence. High above, a countdown ran, my pulse slowing to a crawl as my whole body prepared for this moment.\n\nThe buzzer cut through the calm.\n\nBuckets of all different kinds of muck spilled across the floors, from muddy water to sticky tomato ketchup, sizzling as it dried on the heated floors only to be instantly cooled by a downpour of liquid nitrogen that quickly cleared.\n\nMy shoes bent, waiting on the balls of my feet. A coiled spring, ready to launch myself forward, ears tuned to hear a single sound.\n\nA second buzzer cut through the calm.\n\nThe audience burst to their feet as I flung myself forward, grabbing my cutting-edge mop. Like an earthquake, they stamped and cheered, but my whole body devoted itself to the task at hand. Prioritize what needed time to soak, optimise the route, waste no movement, even the half-second as I turned around an opportunity to clean.\n\nI felt alive. A supernatural purpose thrummed through me, pushing me on ever faster. The seconds passed slow, so slow, and I could feel the Clean Sweep coming ever closer. Mopping, scrubbing, shining—no one better than me.\n\nMy time had—\n\nGrip gave, my foot slid, floor slick, and I seemed to leave my body, watching more than experiencing it as I fell. Not a pleasant fall, I’d been sprinting and tried to stop. So, my body just carried on, a crack echoing as my leg went, and then a thud as the rest of me slammed into a kitchen cabinet.\n\nYet, I still stood in the middle of the arena. I heard the roar of the crowd turn into screams of terror. I watched the stand-by medics swarm the floor. I saw my lifeless body die.\n\nIt didn’t so much set in as much as I just accepted it. I didn’t get the Clean Sweep. If I had a body, I would’ve cried, failing after coming so close. Really, I should’ve bought new shoes. I’d been too sentimental about those pieces of crap.\n\nWhen my body—what had been my body—gave its last, frail breath, someone joined me. I could just tell they had, something about being dead giving me these kinds of senses.\n\n“Are you ready?” she asked.\n\nTurning to face her, I found myself a little surprised, my idea of what an angel looked like not quite matched. She certainly had a beauty to her, with fair skin and a slender body. However, no halo floated above her head, nor did she show off a pair of feathery wings, and she had muscles to tone her thin arms. On top of that, she wore some kind of medieval cosplay. I guessed all sorts could become angels.\n\nA sudden thought coming to me, I grew hesitant. “Where exactly are you taking me?”\n\n“Valhalla,” she said.\n\n“That’s in heaven, right—not hell?”\n\nI couldn’t tell her expression, face hidden behind an elegant helmet. “It is a heaven, yes, for those who have fallen in battle.”\n\n“What, like soldiers?”\n\n“Amongst others.”\n\nFor a moment, I nodded. Then, the train of logic in my head derailed, catastrophically. “I died in battle?”\n\nShe stilled, suddenly tense. A loud breath left her lips. “If I can be frank with you, Valhalla is filled with warriors and soldiers, of people who would die with a weapon in their hand rather than a long life. Do you understand?”\n\n“Well, yes, but I’m not sure you can call a mop a weapon.”\n\nShe clicked her tongue and looked to the side. “What I am trying to convey is that these people of Valhalla are, well, not the sort to know one end of a broom from the other—unless they plan to stab someone with it. Is that clearer?”\n\n“It just sounds even more like I shouldn’t be going there,” I replied.\n\nThis time, she seemed to deflate, shoulders slouching forward and head hanging. “Look, let me be straight with you. It’s an utter pigsty. We’re really bending the rules here, but we need to sneak a few people like you in before we end up with rats.”\n\n“You can get rats in heaven?”\n\nShe nodded and said, “Of course. They nibble out of rat heaven and, well, with all the spilled food, it’s another rat heaven for them.”\n\n“I see.”\n\nA minute passed in silence, my thoughts not quite sure what to think about all this. Then, she asked, “Well?”\n\n“Well what?”\n\n“Will you come with me to Valhalla?” she asked, standing tall again.\n\n“Do I have to?”\n\nShe hung her head again, resting a hand on the back of her head with a muted clang. “Well, no, not really. If you make a fuss, God will probably notice and tell us off for all this. However, I hope you will consider it.”\n\n“Is Valhalla better than normal heaven at all, or is it just some rowdy pub?” I asked.\n\nIt took her longer than it should have to say, “It’s way better.”\n\n“Really?”\n\nShe shook her head. “No, it’s mostly just a bunch of men drinking and beating each other up.”\n\n“Do you even want to go back there? Can’t you sneak into heaven, or something?”\n\n“I stand out too much for that to work.”\n\nNodding, I said, “I see.” When she had nothing more to say, I added, “Sounds rough.”\n\nShe laughed, but it lacked heart. “You don’t know the half of it.”\n\nI took a moment to think things through as well as I could. Then, I stepped forward and patted her shoulder. “Look, maybe I can come see what it’s like, do a bit of cleaning, and then I’ll just be on my way. How’s that sound?”\n\nTo my surprise, she threw out her arms and hugged me. “Oh my Odin! You’re a lifesaver, you know that? Thank you!”\n\nUnsure of whether or not I could blush, I made do with a shy response. “It’s not like I’m doing it for you.”\n\n“I don’t care, I’m just so happy I won’t have to spend the next century hunting rats! You’re my hero.”\n\n“Well, whatever,” I said, rubbing my neck. “Let’s just go, before I change my mind.”\n\n“Yes, yes—at once! Take my hand.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: In Feudal Times, the Baron's Daughter gets her kicks by seducing farmhands on her father's lands, then taunting them into silence by virtue of her authority." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Mistress, please…”\n\nIt was the third time he was pleading, yet Kayla continued to play with him. Biting his ear and giving him a reach-around, the Baron’s daughter enjoyed using her human plaything. The way he resisted and protested, all the while his body was more honest and warm.\n\nA few more pumps and his seed went flying onto the hay, causing the young woman to cackle with pleasure.\n\n“Oh Randy, Randy; you’ve been saving up! Look how much more you fired today!”\n\nIt was a false congratulations, the mocking acknowledgement of a young woman who refuses to grow up.\n\nRandy is hardly the only victim of Kayla’s tormenting.\n\nDespite rules being set for who could bathe in the river, depending on time and what part of the river was bared off to a certain gender, Kayla would deliberately skinny dip while the male staff was cleaning themselves. Furthermore, she’d rub up against them, letting their cocks knock on the entrance of her lower half, before slipping away and splashing them. Sometimes some of the young men swear they could feel her mouth close around their cocks, sucking away below the surface of the water while they averted their eyes skywards. If they dared to look down, she’d cease sucking and push off of them, knocking them down beneath the water.\n\nIcarus once found Kayla schlicking away upon his bed, skirt up for him to see and her under garments littering the floor. He could not join her, touch her, or move her from his room, and spending too much time viewing her would cost him his eyes. Knowing this all too well, Kayla continued, getting louder as she did.\n\n“Ica, look at me. Look, Ica; see how wet I’m getting.”\n\nShe continued this taunting, the sounds of her fingers reaching into herself and making her pussy wetter invading Icarus’ ears. The boy knew he could do nothing to relieve himself or join her, as his position allowed for no such pursuits. At best come morning he could convince Kayla’s handmaiden to help him vent his frustrations, as she had volunteered to do so before.\n\nThere were times when Kayla would pleasure herself with a wooden sculpture shaped like a cock. The city folks called it a dildo. She of course would never do this in private, as this story clearly shows. No, she’s find herself a captive audience, like Peter the Tailor’s son. He be forced to look down and do nothing but shine her shoes, knowing full well that if he looked up he’s see her without undergarments and filling, no impaling herself with a wooden replica of manhood she’d never properly experienced. He could feel her dripping onto his hands as he worked on her shoes, and at times she cruelly brushed her lower half against his head. Not once would he risk taking advantage of her.\n\nThe cruelest act committed by Kayla, however, remains the night she interrupted Henry and Delilah’s wedding night. Having attended the ceremony and acting the kindest she’s ever been, Kayla reminded the couple of her true nature that night.\n\n“My mistress, please. He is my husband, and we’ve yet to consummate our vows.”\n\n“As your mistress, I have a say in who gets first claim. Who you speak otherwise?”\n\nIf Delilah complained, she’d be disbelieved and whipped. Reluctantly, she took a seat by the bed and sat there waiting, hoping this cruelty would end quickly.\n\nKayla took her time, having the farmhands she harass tie Henry to the bed posts and stripping him of his pants. Using her mouth to stimulate him, the young woman granted Henry a feeling all her male employees dreamed of. An intimacy he alone cared not for, having just married the woman he loved.\n\nHis body betrayed him, as they do, and he rose quickly due to the baron’s daughter’s attention. Pleased by her quick work, Kayla sat down and took his cock within her, pleased by how warm a real one felt in comparison to her many toys.\n\nDelilah fought hard not to glare at Kayla as she stole her husband’s first time. The only comfort she had was the fact that Henry’s stamina made the horrid affair last longer than expected, which at least meant when she could claim him she could expect quality time spent.\n\nNoting by the look on his face that he was close to coming, Kayla dismounted Henry and quickly locked a small belt of sorts around the base of his cock. Calling out to a person outside, Kayla had the local town prostitute come inside. Delilah almost lost it, realizing what Kayla was up to.\n\n“No! It would be one thing for you to steal it from me, but no harlot will bear my husband’s first child!”\n\nKayla didn’t pay her any mind, roughly she shoving her down back into the chair as she guided the prostitute onto the still bound Henry. Releasing the belt as the prostitute took him in; it wasn’t long before Henry came within her, leaking down onto the bed as he did.\n\nKayla paid the prostitute more than what was promised, sending her away without a look and smiling cruelly at Delilah.\n\n“You are all my property. God may bind you together, but I decide the order of when that can be. You’d do well to remember that.”" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1400-1500 words. Prompt: You could feel the dragon’s blood running through your veins but you are the first person too remain in control" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was supposed to be a chance at redemption. A chance to make up for breaking one of the Greater Rules of the Order. Everyone knew what it actually was though. It was a death sentence. A big, huge ceremony where the knights could kill one of the problematic recruits in full view of everyone without issue.\n\nJulian was just the latest person to receive the \"opportunity\". He knelt before the Order's council. Various nobles gathered, watching from the relative safety of the balconies. It was not everyday that they could see this kind of entertainment.\n\nThe orator stepped forward, unfurling the scroll that held Julian's ultimate fate. The orator went through almost ten minutes of ceremony, honoring the council and the gathered nobles before coming to the main event.\n\n\"Recruit Julian, of the town of Westbrook, you are convicted of breaking one of the Order's Greater Rules, forbidding that of fraternization with outsiders.\"\n\nIt was a stupid rule. Why weren't knights allowed to marry someone outside the Order? It really made no sense to anyone. Not even the council liked that rule, since it greatly limited who they could have a relationship with. But, it was one of the big rules that nobody could change.\n\nThe orator continued. \"As such, you have been given opportunity to take up the Trial of Dragon's Blood. Do you accept this chance of redemption and forgiveness?\"\n\n\"Do I have a choice?\" Julian asked.\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Then I guess I accept.\"\n\n\"Then let the trial begin.\"\n\nThe blood was carried out by two guards, who carried the vial of deep red liquid on a pillow between them. Julian knew it was real dragon blood. He had gone in a harvesting expedition himself, seen it collected. Although he had not participated, he knew how arduous subduing a dragon to gather a few vials of blood was.\n\nHe also knew what would happen if he drank it. It would change him. Turn him into a half dragon beast. His skin would be scales harder than steel, his fingers would sprout claws that could rend all armor that was not enchanted. He would be able to spew flames like full dragons, and all his senses would sharpen. If he was lucky, he might even grow wings to fly, it a tail which could crush stone.\n\nIt would also burn away his mind. It would sear his flesh, blood, and mind to the point where he would be little more than a mindless beast. He would no longer be a man, but a wild, aggressive beast that would need to be put down. It was what the nobles came to see. It was why there were a dozen knights within easy reach.\n\n\"Do you have any words to say before undergoing the trial?\" The orator asked.\n\n\"Just...just take care of her, okay? All she did was agree to have dinner with me a few times.\" It was far more than that, of course. But they did not need to know the rest of it.\n\n\"It shall be considered.\"\n\nThat was the best he was going to get. Julian took his last breath as a man and drank the vial of blood. It tasted of fire and iron, and burned more than he thought it would.\n\nHis blood felt like lava, and his flesh felt like it was burning away. He screamed as his vision flashed and spun. He felt his body ripping itself apart and stitching itself back together. His back exploded in pain, and his fingers felt like they were getting ripped off. He could no longer feel what was happening to his face, nor did he care. All he cared about was the pain that had become his world.\n\nAnd then it stopped. Just stopped, as if it never was. At some point, Julian had collapsed. He picked himself up and looked around. The nobles looked on in interest, while the knights drew swords and spears. That told him the change had finished. But there was something wrong. Julian could still think. He was still himself.\n\nHe looked at his hands. The were covered with scales the color and luster of well polished rubies. His new claws shown like silver, and he could tell they were sharper than any blade made by men. He felt an odd twitch on his back, and he focused there. He quickly found he had gotten lucky, and had grown wings.\n\nSeeing that he was not roaring and spitting fire at anything that moved, one of the nobles spoke up. \"Well? What's wrong with him? Why isn't he attacking?\"\n\n\"Doesn't matter.\" Another said. \"He's probably just slow. Kill him already! We paid good money to see this.\"\n\nOne of the knights nodded and came up behind Julian. Julian heard the man clearly and when the sword was swung, he ducked. He found he had not gotten a tail, so he simply kicked out the attacking knight's leg. The man toppled with a cry of surprise. The other knights hesitated. They all recognized the move. It was something all of them had learned as well.\n\n\"Stop!\" Called one of the council members, all of whom had once been knights themselves. The knights immediately lowered their weapons. \"You, what is your name?\"\n\n\"I am...Julian of Westbrook.\" Julian said. His voice was deeper than it had been, and it was harder to form words around his new teeth and tongue, but it was still his voice.\n\n\"He...kept his mind.\" A counselor said. The area was filled with amazed and confused murmurs. \"How...how did you keep your mind?\"\n\n\"I don't know.\" Julian would like to know that himself. As far as he knew, there was nothing unusual about him. Certainly nothing that could explain this.\n\nThe council members all spoke quietly to themselves. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Nobody quite knew what to do. By all means, he had passed the trial, and was no absolved of any wrongdoing, but what should be done with him?\n\nHis newly enhanced hearing picked up on the council's discussion. It seemed like they would be trying to use him. To find out why he had succeeded in the trial, and if they could duplicate the process. Until then, he could easily be the single greatest asset the Order had. A man with the power of a dragon was not something easily ignored.\n\nJulian was not sure he wanted to be used line that though. While he did have a great respect for the Order and what they did, they had been ready to throw him away for a rule nobody liked. And now they were going to treat him as a weapon. He could easily leave once he figured out how to fly, and could go live his own life.\n\nOn the other hand, who would trust him? Who would shelter him? Where could he go, looking as he did? He could not imagine any civilized place being very welcoming to a half dragon monster. The Order had a lot of sway in the world, and if he was to wear their banner, people might be more willing to accept him.\n\nHe came to a decision. If the Order was going to use him, then he was going to use them in equal measure. Besides, he was still technically a recruit, so it would not be that hard to resume his training with a few extra lessons to learn what he was now capable of.\n\n\"We have decided.\" One of the councilors said. \"The recruit Julian has passed the Trial of Dragon's Blood, and will be allowed to resume his duties and lessons. Recruit, do you understand this?\"\n\n\"I do.\"\n\n\"Good. We shall meet again in private to determine what will need to be done in light of these developments. Recruit is dismissed.\"\n\nJulian turned and walked out of the arena. He heard a lot of disappointed muttering from the gathered nobles. He imagined they were upset they did not get to see the promised bloodbath. But he could also guess they would be fine once they figured out they had witnessed something truly unique.\n\nNow he had to figure out what to do, just as much as the council did. As far as he was concerned, his main priority was figuring out how to fly. And then? Then he had a fine young lady to meet. She might not appreciate his new look, but he had to meet her nonetheless. Maybe he could leverage his new status as the only human-dragon hybrid to finally get an old, unpopular rule overturned." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You're the worlds most misunderstood super hero. Every attempt at rescue has ended in ridicule and incredibly bad press. You just want to be understood, no longer stared at, no more the butt of jokes, you are Florida Man.... and this is your story." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Sir, please! Were the tacos really necessary?! The world needs to know.”\n\nUtop the stage stood a larger than life figure clad only in overalls. He looked on with a reserved curiosity, but kept his expression passive for the moment. .\n\nDespite the number of times she’d asked the same question, the reporter was bent on receiving an answer. News anchors and political figures from all over the state had flocked to the impromptu press conference. This time though, someone at least had the decency to install a podium; his response seemed imminent.\n\nFor nearly a year the man’s mysterious tactics had baffled the state, and now, news of his infamy had finally been heard around the world. A line was crossed. People needed a face to the figure, if only to sate a certain morbid curiosity.\n\nThough rumors did him little credit, and the utter destruction left in his wake marred his character beyond the fancy of the public's eye, he clung to a prophetic vision.\n\nYes, even still.\n\nA vision of a new age. One where humanity, with his guidance, ascends to greatness. Soon the state—and the world by convenient proxy—would know true peace.\n\nIn time, they would know him only as, Florida Man.\n\nThe tidings of destiny oozed from his every pore. Surely this would be the way.\n\nHis tenure as a vigilante had been short lived. Florida Man kept his motives to himself, and on more than one occasion, the region's police force had parted ways as a direct result of his flakey nature. Both entities were still on bitter terms with the other, even if a formal deal had never been struck. The man couldn’t be trusted with a task no matter how blunt it seemed.\n\nMissions had been chaotic and with mixed results. Rescued hostages were found few and far between.\n\nA true wildcard.\n\nFeedback screeched over the PA system as Florida Man adjusted his microphone. The retractable boom dropped more than a foot below the level of his mouth, but, with little more than a casual wave, he rolled right along.\n\n“Ay yo. Just holla’ holla’, get that dolla’. Naw whad I mean?” He spoke at last.\n\nThe gathering buckled under the gravity of what had just been said. Words had done him justice on this fair day; he'd set forth a bold new public presence. This wasn’t at all how things went the week prior.\n\n“But sir the—”\n\n“I got hungry.” He said, committed to the delivery.\n\nA sudden wave rippled through the crowd as microphones were passed closer to the podium.\n\n“But the—”\n\n“Real hungry. Priorities. That’s how I roll.”\n\nA man in the back of the crowd was slapping a cue card. The expression looked dire.\n\n“Yeah, so, here’s what’d it do: I got this city on lock now. Get at me.” Florida Man said.\n\nHe fetched his own map—a Florida tourism guide crumpled in his pocket—and presented it before those huddled closest to him. Several crudely drawn circles enclosed where each of the county jails would normally appear.\n\n“Check it or reck it.”\n\nThe response from the public was overwhelming. They lapped every moment of it up.\n\nFlorida Man smirked; he knew he was right all along.\n\nHe wiggled his index finger. Just a tease.\n\nThe crowd followed obediently.\n\nHe tapped the map. The ocean off South Shore had been entirely shaded in with crayon.\n\nPolite applause.\n\n“Ayyyy.” He began.\n\nSmooth as ever. The applause built.\n\n“New age, ho. Times change. I’m takin’ it all to the sea.”\n\nHe made an effort to address the reporter directly, then opened his shoulders back up to those beyond. City blocks were backed up for miles now. Daily commutes had ground to a halt as they looked on in awe.\n\nIf he was any lesser of a god, Florida Man might have blushed at the sight.\n\nBut no. His children stood before him now.\n\nThey deserved to know.\n\nAnd so he obliged.\n\nFlorida Man wiggled his finger again.\n\nThe whine and tick of cameras consumed him.\n\nHe dragged his hand from where the county jails had been marked to the shaded section of the sea.\n\n“Takin' it to the sea.”\n\nThe front row recoiled in confusion. Panic erupted, spreading to the streets.\n\nBut Florida Man just smiled.\n\nA glorious future had been sewn this day." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: Your neighbour is a widower, he lives in a large house alone. Your house overlooks his garden, he spends hours everyday by his garden pond, staring into it's depths and talking quietly..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In a thickly wooded shire far away there were two houses. One was very majestic and large. It recalled to one's mind the imperial times when empires stalked Europe. The other house was small and homely. It reminded one about swirling mists over homemade apple pie, books, and warm days. In the large house lived a lonely old man who never told anyone his name. In the small house lived a girl at seven years of age and her ageing mother. The girl's name was Lorelei, and everyday she would would step out onto the small iron balcony that overlooked a steel fence guarding a tender garden. Everyday her mother would give her an apple, and Lorelei would nod thankfully. She would then turn back to the garden and sigh contentedly.\n\nThe tender garden was owned by the old man of the majestic house. And everyday the old man would walk slowly to the garden and sit on the wooden bench that lay next to a deep blue pond. And everyday the girl Lorelei would watch the old man sit on the wooden bench that lay next to the deep blue pond, and she would wonder what he was saying.\n\nShe asked her mother to go to the large house and ask the old man about what he was saying and why he stared at the pond for so long and so often, but her mother would only smile and shake her head. Lorelei would then bow her head in defeat, munch on her apple, and then turn back towards that steel fence guarding that tender garden under the reign of the old man who lived in that large, majestic house. Nearly everyday was the same: Lorelei with her curiosity, the mother with her exasperation, and the old man with his wistfulness.\n\nIt was a bright Thursday in the middle of April when Lorelei left her home and clambered over the steel fence. \"Steady now, steady,\" she muttered to herself as she threw herself off the fence onto the moist soil of the garden. The garden did not have an ugly barrier around it anymore, and it looked more beautiful than Lorelei could have ever imagined it to be. She scampered her way to the deep blue pond where she knew the old man was sitting. It was a good day. The sun dappled through the various trees, the insects chirred happily, and the birds had just started a new acapella troupe.\n\nShe found the old man and ran up to him. He was sitting with his back to her and turned to her when he heard her running to him.\n\n\"Excuse me sir,\" Lorelei said excitedly, \"but why do you look and speak at that garden pond with the deep blue waters?\"\n\nThe old man looked at her for a moment and left his mouth hanging. He closed it and smiled, \"Because it is beautiful, and beautiful things are good to look at and speak with.\" he said.\n\nLorelei pondered for a moment, and then said, \"I know that is true, but I like looking at many and various beautiful things. You only look at and speak to one thing. Why is that?\"\n\nThe old man paused and then laughed, \"Because it is so beautiful it needs all my attention.\" he said simply.\n\nLorelei huffed and said, \"But that's silly, how can a person look at only one thing for so long!\"\n\nThe old man cocked an eyebrow and said, \"Child, do not be so rude to your elders. It is not wise.\"\n\nLorelei sheepishly hung her head and apologised.\n\n\"Come, sit next to me.\" the old man suddenly said, \"I guess I should show you why I think this place is so beautiful that I always come here to look at the waters lap and the leaves flutter and the grass jingle. Come!\" Lorelei sat next to the old man.\n\nThe old man then leaned into Lorelei and whispered, \"There are angels afoot.\"\n\n\"Are there sir?\" Lorelei exclaimed.\n\n\"Yes, yes, now hush lest you scare them off.\" motioned the old man with a twinkle in his eye.\n\n\"Oh, yes.\" whispered Lorelei. \"But how many are there sir?\"\n\nThe old man thought for a moment and then turned to the girl, \"Two, I think.\"\n\n\"Sir, how do you know they are angels?\" said Lorelei excitedly.\n\n\"Because - ah - well, hah!\" The man frowned for a moment and then smiled again, \"Take my hands.\"\n\n\"They are trembling, sir.\"\n\n\"Yes, they tremble whenever someone loving and good is nearby.\"\n\n\"Angels then?\" said Lorelei.\n\n\"Yes, child, angels.\" said the old man.\n\n\"And you speak with them?\" said Lorelei.\n\n\"Yes, I pray for them every day and night.\" replied the old man.\n\nLorelei laughed and rocked in her seat. She stopped and then looked at the old man.\n\n\"Why do you look at me with eyes so blue and piercing?\" said the old man.\n\n\"Because I wonder why you are crying.\" replied Lorelei.\n\n\"That is because a wretch like me could be near beings as good as angels. Now be off. Your mother will be worrying!\" said the old man.\n\nLorelei jumped up and exclaimed, \"Oh no!\"\n\nShe began to run off. But the old man shouted out to her back, \"But wait! What is your name?\"\n\nLorelei turned around while running and shouted back, \"Lorelei, sir!\"\n\n\"A name as beautiful as the river Danube itself!\" The old man exclaimed. But Lorelei had already run beyond earshot.\n\nThe old man then sat back down on his wooden bench that lay next to the deep blue pond that lay within a tender garden which was guarded by a steel fence. He looked at the deep blue pond and looked at it for a long time without saying a word. His eyes could barely see, but he knew what lay in the pond's depths. A stone face, one of a happy woman and the other of a joyful girl. Two stony bodies and faces over a stony coffin. Buried in the deep blue pond they loved to swim in, taken before their time in a terrible accident, hidden in beauty in a tender garden guarded by a steel fence. The old man whispered a prayer to God above, and began to cry over a wound wrought long ago, and long in the healing." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: In Dare County, North Carolina, you have found a deep cavern, recently unsealed, on Roanoke Island with signs that people have been here before, although a very long time ago." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Hey Marshall. The storm advisory seems to have cleared up. We gotta go assess the damage to the farm. You ok with going around town to see if anyone needs help?” Mom said to me as she began to start boiling water.\n\n“Yeah sure. I see a few branches fell on the car from here. Doesn’t look like anything major though. Let me grab a few tools in case.” I replied back to her as I made my way to my workshop.\n\nLuckily the storm avoided our house and we didn’t have any significant damage but it certainly didn’t seem like that when we heard warnings of massive swells and winds topping 110 mph.\n\nI went to turn on the lights for the workshop but the power was out. No matter though, I could see well enough since the sun shine through the clouds that were rapidly disappearing. I went ahead and grabbed my toolbox dad left behind when he ran off with some young thing a few years back. I also decided to grab my axe and my crowbar in the event I needed to do some repairs or rescue some people.\n\n“Ok mom. I’m heading out. You sure you’ll be ok? I can always wait a little to help around here?”\n\n“I managed this farm for 6 years now on my own. I think I can handle some water boiling and checking up on the cows.” She said with a smile.\n\nI cleared the branches off of the car and went off to town. It seemed that the majority of people also got off relatively easy.\n\nThe grocery store had some small fire going on that the fire department was taking care of. The Millers down the road needed help moving some loose debris from their roof which wasn’t too hard. James further down the road wanted me to check for water damage in his basement. Unfortunately, there was a rather decent leak, so I had to shut his water off. Nothing to difficult to do but time consuming enough that I couldn’t stay here to fix it at this juncture.\n\n“I’m going to check on the rest of the town. I’ll come back in a bit to fix it up, ok? I’m going to check up on old man Nguyen at the beachfront then I’ll come back”.\n\nJames nodded as I got back into my car and headed to the beach. Old man Nguyen was an odd fellow. He pretty much was a hermit who had gotten a slice of beachfront land and lived there for longer then I’ve been alive. Living alone must have been difficult for him, I wish I brought him food to help out, I never see him eating.\n\n“Old man Nguyen? It’s me, Marshall. I’m checking up on the town. You need any help?” I hollered as I approached his porch.\n\nHe came out looking a little shook but unharmed.\n\n“Markell. I heard some rock slide on the far end of the beach on Roanoke Island. Massive slabs falling down. I could feel it all the way from here!” he said with a sour face.\n\n“its Marshall. Come on. I don’t mess up your name. Cut me some slack here. But, I’ll check it out. Any damage to your house though?”\n\nHe said nothing happened but I should check out that rock slide before the tide comes in. He was right, I should go and cordon off the area until I can confirm its not an unstable area.\n\nI left his porch as he waved goodbye and began to walk to my car. I opened up dad’s toolbox and grabbed his work belt, a flashlight and the axe I brought as well.\n\nI began the short journey to the end of the beach on foot, my work boots making large imprints in the sand, the tide normalizing from it’s prior swells during the storm. I approached the small boat we left to travel to Roanoke Island and began rowing towards the cliff face that was there. The storm luckily had made the tide lower then usual to the point where I could walk half of the trek instead of rowing.\n\nAs I approached the cliffs, I noticed something peculiar. There was a cave opening in the side of the cliff. I noticed the rocks strewn about, and grabbed some caution tape from the work belt. I began marking off the area in case some fool decided to go in. With the area now taped off, I turned on my flashlight and headed in.\n\nThe area looked surprisingly clean for a cave. The cave didn’t have much water damage and as I further explored the cave, I noticed some odd items inside.\n\nThere were paintings of people, dressed like pilgrims, a boat that looked like it was just off of the coast. My eyes then went wide in fear.\n\nI saw a skeleton. Then another, and another. I counted 14 sets of bones. I noticed a table near the end of the system. On the table I noticed a tomahawk on the desk. I had heard about natives that were in the area before Europeans settled in the region. I also spotted a small black book. It looked weathered but luckily was in decent enough condition to read the contents.\n\nIt talked about the pilgrims who landed here and how the first winter was something they weren’t prepared for. I read on as they described how during the following spring, they had seen a storm unlike anything they’ve seen before. The storm caused part of the cliff they were in to collapse, sealing them in their tomb.\n\nThey resorted to cannibalism. They waited to see who would perish first and do what was needed. The book talked about how some refused to eat, starving themselves to death, this keeping others alive.\n\nThe last page looked different though. It was written by a different person, the writing much more crude and hastily written. It talked about how they begged God for forgiveness for what happened in the cavern, how they wished they never split the colony into separate groups.\n\nI grabbed the book and the tomahawk from the table and began to exit the cave, trying my best not to be creeped out by the evil feelings that these walls housed. Though this was an incredible discovery, I had more urgent matters. I had to go back and help the town out. I can come back later and go further into detail. Right now, James needed his water fixed and the grocers I’m sure will need help fixing up their store." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 1200-1300 words. Prompt: Humans were just contacted by two rival groups of aliens offering space travel technology in exchange for being soldiers to fight against the other one. They may have technological superiority over us but as you just discovered we can do something they find inconceivable we can lie." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "What do you do when two advanced races show up in your sky with enough firepower to wipe your existence out in an afternoon? You play nice. You go along to get along until you find your opening. Well that's exactly what we did, and our opening came in one of the last places you'd expect.\n\nIt all started with one, innocent, little question: \"Is it typical in your species for cruelty to be perceived as humorous?\"\n\nThis was the question asked by the Tovidian military emissary, in response to what we all thought was a pretty common and universal joke: \"the beatings will continue until morale improves.\" We were just trying to joke about our need to keep morale up through tough overtime shifts. Instead, we became the dominant force in the galaxy.\n\nYou see, the Tovidians and their rivals, the Ferguit, didn't communicate like we did. In fact as far as they were concerned, we were downright primitive for only using audible sounds backed up with some unconscious body language to share our thoughts. No, those two advanced races used audible sounds, color changing skin, pheromones, specific postures and gestures, the flapping of secondary organs ... the list goes on. And I'll be honest with you - it gave them one hell of an edge. Their technology, coordination and efficiency were beyond anything we could ever hope to achieve because they could communicate in seconds what would take us grunts three weeks of lectures to comprehend. So, when giving the Tovidian emissary a tour of our facility and trying to smooth over the awkward admission of how overtime was linked to our inefficiency as a species, we thought a little joke was in order. Talk about tipping the first domino.\n\nLuckily, the Maj was quick on his feet. The light bulb went off in his mind right away, and he cut through that awkward silence, advised the Lt and the rest of us enlisted to show the Tovidian our rapid prototyping lab, and hurried off to have a conversation with the Colonel. Now, a corporal such as myself does not get invited to closed door meetings between majors and colonels, but if I had to guess I'd say that meeting went something like this:\n\nMajor: \"Sir the Tovidians, and I'm guessing the Ferguit, do not have a linguistic distinction between what is literal and what is humour or exaggeration. Possibly between what is true and untrue.\"\n\nColonel: \"Major in the next 10 seconds I want you to clarify for me whether I'm making the general wait for my call because you found out our uninvited guests can't understand what a fucking joke is.\"\n\nMajor: \"Sir, I know this sound stupid but trust me, the general will want to know. They can't tell whats literal and what's not. They may have no concept of deception. Their language is too complex for it - they can't control all the variables.\"\n\nColonel: \"... sit down. This is going to be a conference call.\"\n\nNow, despite the secret penchant among the working ranks for coming up with all manner of insult for the commissioned officers, implying they are overpaid and overestimated paper-pushers, I will not stoop so low as to deny credit where it is due. Those men made some of the most brilliant tactical decisions I have ever had the privilege of witnessing and we proceeded to win an unwinnable war in less than 96 hours.\n\nThe first step was testing the theory. We started with small lies at first, so that if we had been wrong in our estimation the Tovidians and Ferguit wouldn't immolate the surface of our planet. The first lie we tried, was claiming our local regiments were chronically short of ammunition, because the factory had a mishap and our machines were down. Could they help supply us with ammo? With their advanced manufacturing abilities, this would be barely an inconvenience and obviously we'd need this ammo to fight the Ferguit. We told a Ferguit emissary at a different site the same thing. Neither emissary asked follow up questions. They didn't want to know the nature of the malfunction, how long until we were up and running, alternate supply chains - nothing. He asked how many bullets we needed. We gave him a figure - 3 times our usual annual fabrication quota, and that fucker just radioed it on up to his ships. We'd have our ammo in 24 hours.\n\nTime to go a bit bigger. We told him we had a special platoon of infantrymen that had been hypnotrained to respond to a command word. By saying this word, these men would follow any order, fearlessly and without hesitation. We figured, worst case scenario, if he was skeptical, we could say it was still experimental and we were working the kinks out. If he really called our bluff, we could say it was a customary prank - more of that humour they just didn't get. Well didn't our extragalactic geniuses swallow it hook, line, and sinker. They had our boys running through formations and doing drills, all with the command word \"pickle.\" Not one of our boys cracked a smile either - true professionals. That Tovidian was downright impressed, as was his Ferguit counterpart on another continent.\n\nThen came the big show. We put on a little play for our emissaries. We ran to those ugly alien bastards as though we had the most urgent, top secret news there ever was and we just desperately needed him to hear it. On our end, we told that shaggy Tovidian oaf that we had intercepted a secret Ferguit transmission, and a teleportation boarding attack was imminent on the Tovidian flagship in orbit above Earth. Down and dirty fighting disgusted our Tovidian (and Ferguit) friend - that's what they needed us for! The advanced races had no appetite for personal combat, that was better left to the primitive races. Ergo, they needed to bring aboard 3 full platoons of hypnotrained infantry - which they could obviously control - to repel this boarding attack. The Tovidian immediately grew enraged and frantic - thanking us for this early warning and sounding every alarm with his superiors. An hour later, we had several hundred, fully armed infantry on the Tovidian (and Ferguit) flagships - all seemingly controllable through the word \"pickle.\"\n\nWell, to be quite honest we only used a few more little white lies from this point on. We got both races to patch us in to their systems by claiming to have leaked versions of enemy cyber-security protocols, allowing us to infect their computers with a homegrown earthling virus and usurp full electronic control. Plus as it turns out, when you willingly bring hundred of enemy soldiers onto your command bridges, the enemy taste for battle rather diminishes.\n\nSo less than four days after that fateful joke, all Tovidians and Ferguit have been moved onto earth and into nice, humane holding facilities, while our top scientists get to reverse engineering all those shiny toys floating around our planet. Some pretty nice stuff has come out of it I gotta say. You ever see a rifle disintegrate a tank? It's a sight lemme tell you. Don't even get me started on what our jets can do now. I don't feel like it's bragging to warn the galaxy at large - from now on if you try to mess with Earth, you're in for a world of hurt." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Do note that while leaving a couple of human scientists alone in a laboratory may result in brilliant discoveries, it will also result in having to replace a lot of equipment due to unforeseen results." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "14.\n\nr/PessimisticSnakeWrote\n\nIt was a bold experiment that was sure. A incredible risk, but if it worked, it maybe could solve everything.\n\n5 scientists, 1 cat.\n\nA year ago the idea of collecting the smartest and most intelligent scientist on earth and locking them in a lab was proposed. Finest equipment. Millions of dollars' worth of resources and plants. In this lab you could research anything. The scientists were to be locked up and cut of from the world.\n\nThe science team agreed. With their bravery, they stayed there for more than 60 days.\n\nToday the experiment is over. The president personally will have the honour to welcome back the science team to the world. He will do it because he was the person approving this experiment.\n\nThe lab is situated in an old bunker. Miles away from any kind of civvilisation.\n\nThe door opens sluggish. Multiple men need to pull it. The president anticipation grows higher the longer it takes. What would he find in the lab? The cure for cancer? Teleportation?\n\nWith a last hiss the door opens. He expected the scientists standing in row. Glad that they would finally be free. But instead he doesnt see anything. The entire lab is dark.\n\nA groan and a meow.\n\nA bodyguard finds the light switch. The president cant believe what he is seeing as soon as his eyes adjusted.\n\nThe scientists are lying on the ground. Not moving. All on top of each other. The cat at the top. One of them opens a eye. Before opening the other one and staring at the president and his bodyguards.\n\nThe president stares back.\n\n“...sir?”\n\n“Dr. Kleiner?”\n\nThe scientist screams. And soon all the other scientists scream as they wake up.\n\nThey rapple themselves up as fast as they can. Dusting of all sorts of dirt.\n\n“Sir.”\n\n“...What happened?”\n\nThe president doesn’t need to explain what he means. The scientists know it. The catracks everywhere. The dead plants. The smell of burnt electronics and fire.\n\n“It was Lamar.”\n\n“You want to tell me that everything is destroyed because of a cat?”\n\n“Sir, it’s a matter of perspective. We could say that it was wholly Lamar, but that would be unfair. You wouldn't want to bully a sweet cat like this?”\n\nThe president couldn’t even answer until Kleiner begins again.\n\n“...Especially since Lamar only did a small part of the destruction.”\n\n“What did you do to the computers? What could have destroyed them like this?”\n\n“...A unfortunate misstep and miscalculation regarding emotional stability of a artificial intelligence.”\n\n“You...You created an AI? Like from movies?”\n\n“We did.”\n\n“Sentient and all this stuff?”\n\n“Yep.”\n\n“And where is it?”\n\nThe scientist looks away.\n\n“In Ai heaven. God bless it.”\n\n“You created an sentient AI and killed it?!”\n\nKleiner almost looked insulted.\n\n“Of course not. It was the internet.”\n\n“You didn't have access to the internet!”\n\nAll scientists shrink a bit, looking down on the ground in shame. But all into the vague direction of the youngest of the scientists.\n\n“We didn't but someone...and we don't know who saved endless memes and...research material on her laptop.”\n\n“How much “research material” could possibly destroy a supercomputer Ai?”\n\n“She somehow installed hundreds of terabyte on in.”\n\n“...Oh.”\n\nThe president doesn’t want to ask further. Not right now. He is too shocked.\n\nMillions of dollars of equipment destroyed. An Ai created. And then gone. Everything financed by him and his country. Gone. Wasted. Samples from everywhere of the world, destroyed. By...\n\n“Is that coffee on the bacteria colonies?\n\n“No!...I mean yes.”\n\nThe president could at least sympathize. It was always the damn coffee.\n\n“It gave us phenomenal results though. We created a new kind of bacteria! Specialized in eating coffee from paper. Just imagine the profit potential.”\n\n“Thats it? You created one to be honest really great thing from a million dollar lab?”\n\nKleiner smiled for the first time.\n\n“Of course not sir! The golden crystals samples from the asteroid had astounding qualities. And after bit of testing...”\n\nHe pointed to the scientist known as Dr.Freeman. Freeman nodded. Before approaching something covered in a sheet. With a clearly trained motioned he threw it in the air. Revealing something that stunned even the always emotionless looking bodyguards.\n\n….It was just so terrible and crappy looking. Built out of the trash the scientists collected and broken equipment. Coffee everywhere. On the side was a slid for a rock.\n\n“This is a portal device! We tested it in small scope before, so this prototype should work flawlessly.\n\nWhile the scientists looked extremely proud the president could tell that no one from the bodyguards including himself thought that it looked like something made by a genius. And not by a modern artist doing some kind of social critique." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write around 600-700 words. Prompt: You're sent to defeat the Dark Lord. You've already befriended him and he's secretly in your party, but he doesn't want to leave due to now liking being on your side." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "My group gathered around me, as we stood in the ruins of the Ancient City, ready to storm Mount Surtur, at the peak of which we knew lay the Castle of our enemy... the one and only dark Lord.\n\nI cleared my throat as I nervously ran a gloved hand through my spiky hair, my other hand resting on the pommel of my trusty sword, sun seeker. With it, I would bring the beast to its knees. Just as the prophecy had foretold.They were looking at me, now. My beautiful girlfriend Liz, the healer. Abel, the young effeminate Rogue. Khan, the giant former Bouncer. Mob, the lovable yet useless group mascot. And, of course, Steve, the delightful young gentleman in the black robe we had met outside the kings castle. They were looking at me, now. This was going to be hard.\n\n\"Gentlemen...\" I began.Liz was glaring. Great. Try again.\"Ladies and Gentlemen...\" there, a smile. Good. Keep going.\n\n\"Over the last few weeks, I have gotten to know each of you very well, as we overcame many challenges together. Truly, this former ragtag band of mercenaries is now deserving of the title of heroes.\"Resounding cheers from the group. Thumbs up from Liz.\"Even now, as we prepare to overthrow the dark lord and bring peace to this land, I am put at ease by your presence... for if it is our fate to die, there is no one I would rather die beside.\"My voice dropped a few semitones. Time to get serious.\n\n\"It is precisely this cameraderie...\"Pause for dramatic effect. They were eating this up, I could tell.\n\n\"...that makes me so displeased to be forced to announce that we have a traitor.\"Resounding gasps from the group.\n\n\"A traitor?\" Steve cried, his red eyes wide open \"Surely it isn't so!\"\n\nKhan stomped over to me, slapped me on the back, nearly took me off my feet. \"Ah! You jest! Haha, very funny Steam!\"\n\nI righted myself and shook my head.\n\n\"No, no, I am entirely serious. All signs point to it - the Earth our group treads turns barren, there are never any birds around, and has anyone else noticed the unnatural frequency of our encounters with the recently orphaned? The Oracle I visited yesterday confirmed my suspicions. One of us...\"\n\nI glanced around the group meaningfully.\n\n\"Is the dark Lord.\"\n\nKhan laughed nervously. Liz was wide-eyed. Abel was actually crying. The smoke which always rose from Steve's nostrils turned a thick shade of black.\n\n\"I think it's Mob.\"The whole group turned to Liz, shocked. Mob gazed up at me with puppy-dog eyes, its fur sleek with sweat.\n\n\"I mean, he's totally useless in combat. If anyone was trying to hinder our progress, it would be him.\"\n\nSteve nodded enthusiastically. \"Yeah, yeah! I bet that suit is a costume, and he's like, really evil underneath\"\n\nMob took a step back and tried to run, but Liz grabbed him by the shoulder, and Steve placed a claw under its thick neck, pulling up. Mob screamed. Blood was flowing. Steve was laughing. It was terrifying.\n\n\"Stop!\" I screamed. Steve let go, and Mob fell on its fat fluffy ass.\n\n\"Sorry, sorry\" Steve said. \"Nervous laughter, eh?\"\n\nI shook my head and sighed in indignation. \"There is no way that Mob is the dark lord. Children love him! Besides, he's the only reason people even donate to our adventuring group\"\n\nKhan towered behind Liz, one hand on his axe.\n\n\"You know... you were awfully quick to make accusations just now, Liz.\"Steve nodded, gleefully licking his lips with his forked serpent tongue. \"Yeah, yeah, that makes sense.\"Mob finally spoke up, in its usual shy chipper voice. \"Sorry, but isn't the dark Lord supposed to be a man, Mobbu?\"\n\nAs one, the group turned their heads to face me. Khan narrowed his eyes.\n\n\"You know, I always suspected that you were into...\"\n\nI sighed, shaking my head in frustration.How were we ever going to work this out?\n\nMy first entry ever! Hope you guys enjoy :)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: The japanese ghost girl currently crawling out of your TV isn't here to kill you, weirdly enough. She has a crush on you, just some weird ways of showing it." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The last week has been odd to say the least, It started with a few inconspicuous things, the sort of stuff you would miss if you weren't looking out for it. During my usual morning routine of snacking before the tv, silently shovelling bits of marsh mellow cereal into my mouth, There was a loud crack, the tv fuzzing up with static, its black and white lines waving like a electronic ocean before crashing against the screen in a sea of black. After a few moments of silence the tv started up again, displaying the usual morning talkshow nuisance that I had come to endure. \"Fucking tv, 52 inches of cheap shit.\" I muttered to myself, scoffing down the last bits of cereal, tossing the bowl aside on the coffee table before heading to work.\n\nThe day went rather normal, talked to Todd about my glitch with the tv, he recommended seeing someone about fixing it, I joked the old thing would need an exorcist not a technician, we both laughed in that sort of, puff of air kind of way. The way one laughs when something isn't funny but you don't want to create an awkward sense of dread. When I returned home, the bowl had been moved, now sitting nice and cleaned with my other dishes, I shrugged it off, must have cleaned it this morning.\n\nMy nightly routine was getting interrupted constantly as if some ungodly entity was crying out for attention. First the fucking beeping of the microwave, its inconsistent beeping as well as the numbers forming an emoji heart? Similar to that of basic text speak. \"What an odd error message...\" I quickly unplugged it, watching the little heart snap in half before plugging it back in, luckily it went back to normal. \"Perhaps my electricity is messing up?\" It was odd that these occurrences were growing more frequent, the tv now deciding to turn itself on and off, always switching shyly off when my gaze would fall to it. \"ARGH! Seriously! Does nothing in this fucking house work!\"\n\nFinally I set myself down in front of the tv, not even bothering to make dinner, it seemed to time consuming at this point after all... it was much easier just to give up. Between watching trash tv and browsing my phone, I found my eyes nodding off, the last image I caught before I fell asleep was of the growing static, a loud hiss coming from the tv.\n\nA cold chill hit my neck before I snapped awake, the microwave beeping in frustration again, causing me to startle awake and run to the kitchen. The smell of cooked mac and cheese wafting through the air as I hungrily opened the metal door. \"Oh finally food. I must have forgot about it.\" I took a quick mouthful gazing around the kitchen, a few empty boxes were laid around the bin, as if someone had been attempting to cook and failing each time. Still It hardly seemed to matter, living alone you start to forget these things, regardless back to the tv I went, eyes glued back to the screen, oddly enough this time not static occurred... in fact it worked perfectly, although I could swear someone was walking around my home that night, the floor creaking at odd intervals before it finally seemed to settle down. \"Rats.\" Again I placed the bowl aside on the coffee table.\n\nWith a yawn I headed to bed, stretching my arms out as I walked into the hallway only to be greeted by a pale woman. Her skin badly cut and her hair seemed to stick to her face, covering her sleep deprived eyes. Her hands crossed one another politely holding eachother as she stared at me. Silence filled the air as I went to back away, yet as I stepped back... she stepped forward. This repeating until I hit a wall, yet she didn't stop when I hit the wall and soon we were face to face. She was a lot taller then she had first appeared, her stature making me seem like little more then an animal of prey about to be killed by a lion. Yet as my heart tried to break out of my chest with its rapid beating, her hand reached forward to pat my head, kindly stroking my hair before she stepped back, her chapped lips curving into a small pile. She seemed to be awaiting something, a word from me perhaps.\n\n\"Um...\" was about all I could say, sinking against the wall behind me, yet she stood firm. \"Um?\" After a repeat of the word she walked towards the bowl, pointing to it. \"The bowl? It was good? Mac and cheese is the perfect comfort food.\" I laughed, only to be greeted by a joyful dead hug! Her thin legs jumping as she hugged me, it was strange how much emotion could be displayed in a simple hug, yet eventually she did pull away. \"I guess you made it... um thank you, I appreciate it. Can I help you?\" I asked, unsure what else to say in such a situation, her head tilted before she nodded. Pointing to the tv, then to me. \"You want to watch tv?\" She shook her head. \"You want to.... go into the tv?\" Again her head shook. This went back and forth before finally I hit the mark. \"You want to visit me as you please.\" She gave that a nod and then the room returned to its silence. \"Sure.. I guess the company could be nice.\" With that she crawled back into the tv with a small wave, leaving me with the feeling that I would see her a lot more often.\n\n{If you enjoyed my story, Feel free to check out r/pmmeyabootysstories where ill be posting some more of my stuff for people to read}" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: Humans have achieved FTL and have joined the galactic community! But…nothing. Humans are unremarkable. Almost non existent in the thousands of alien species. Humans are not special in any way." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kriktik flexed his crest spines in agitatation. It was already... He glanced down at the unremarkable housing of the human time piece, its soft backlit display an inoffensive unidentifiable colour. The display showed his home system's numerical identifiers, it read negative trigon well past the time he was to meet the contact. Stretching his hocks he gazed around the small office. It was completely inoffensive from the \"art\" (some sort of organic compound spread on canvas) displayed on the walls to the texture of the flooring. Never before had kriktik felt so devoid of stimulation. Reflexes honed by martial combat, senses constantly on the alert for the slightest changes, a life held in constant vigilance against the threat of those below and above him found no threats, nothing to focus on, nothing to even distract him as negative trigon ticked over to sundat. Behind him someone cleared their throat.\n\nKriktik turned languidly his crest spines relaxing as he noticed the furless biped in the nondescript sitting apparatus. The alien was wearing soft fabrics who's pattern reminded Kriktik of the \"art\" although he'd be hard pressed to explain why. Kriktik blinked. The door hadn't opened, there was no ozone smell from blink, and the air in the room was undisturbed. More disturbing though was his own lack of reaction to the being's arrival. He felt no aggression nor Surprise, none of his defensive instincts had been triggered and even his annoyance had faded. \"you are the human I am to meet?\" he asked unable to keep the puzzlement from his voice.\n\nThe being rose and stepped within striking distance to Kriktik. Kriktik neither recoilled nor lashed out in complete opposition to every evolutionary behavior his species had and rather than being alarmed by this he found himself strangely ambivalent.\n\n\"Yes I am the human known as, well that won't matter, no one ever remembers our name's anyway. You are likely wondering when I arrived and why you didn't notice me.\"\n\nKriktik grimaced in accent trying to fix the face of the human in his mind. Something about its shape or maybe the texture of its skin made it hard to distinguish from the general form of the alien.\n\n\"I was in this room, sitting in that chair from the moment you entered my office. I felt this would be the best example of our...\" he made a chuffing noise. A sound of humour among humans \"absolutely forgettable and innoffensive nature to every species we've encountered so far. As you can see we are completely unremarkable, unthreatening, and infinitely forgettable. Which makes us the most effective assassins in the galactic community.\"\n\nKriktik flicked his crest spines in amusement \"bold of you to make such a claim would not such advertisement be to your species detriment?\"\n\nThe human chuffed again. \"who would believe you? Assassins the humans? We excel at nothing, we aren't strong enough to threaten the majority of species, our technology is absolutely average on the bell curve and indistinguishable from a hundred other species, we aren't fast or dextrous enough to confound security systems. We barely even have a presence on the galactic stage outside of simple menial labour. You're only here because you have no other options and nothing to lose. A friend of a friend or some back alley dealer sent you here because \"The human can solve your problem\". They are right. We are easy to ignore, forgettable, and nearly everywhere. Would you please look down now? \"\n\nKriktik raised his crests in surprise and looked down. The human had a small gun levelled at his grull sack, at this range it would be an instantly fatal shot. Kriktek lowered his crests in submission and blinked slowly for a moment before saying \"I would like to purchase your services.\"\n\nThe human flashed it's mastication bones, a sign of pleasure. \"Excellent! We will take full payment now. Other species tend to forget to pay us after we have fulfilled our end of the contract\" the human chuffed again placing the gun inside its fabric coverings and stepping back outside of striking range \"I'm sure you understand.\"\n\nKriktik grimaced in acknowledgement and regurgitated a small bile covered storage sack. He fished out a preloaded unhashed credit stick and a copy of his sigma sire's biometric identification. The human withdrew a small piece of fabric from its coverings and accepted both items. \"Thank you.\" The human moved over to the desk laying down the cloth holding the items and picking up a small uninteresting wrapped package which he offered to Kriktek. \"We hope you enjoy the artwork you have purchased today and wish you a fruitfal cycle\". Kriktek took the package and after one more attempt to firmly set the humans features in his mind grimaced a final time and strode out of the office and into what the humans called an \"art\" gallery. As Kriktik made his way though the nearly empty gallery, who would waste time with human \"art\" if they had any other options, he found his memory of the human already fading. No matter, the human wasn't important, the only thing that was important were the results, and with that thought he turned his mind to much more important matters." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: The domed Martian colony New Roanoke went silent soon after it was established. The last transmission before it went dark was a croaked out “I die.”. The baffling mystery was given low priority due to other issues. You’re among the first team to set foot in the colony for decades." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Red dust coated everything that remained of the colony. The other members of my team started toward what was left of the main airlock. I hang behind taking in the remains of the I'll fated New Roanoke. I wasnt even able to walk when the reports reached earth of the colony going dark.\n\n\"Looks like the airlock was busted,\" Dyan reported, picking up some wreckage.\n\n\"This shits been untouched for nearly 30 years of course it's busted,\" replied Hopper, our team leader.\n\n\"Nah, see these scorch marks. This was man made,\"\n\nI walk over to join the two, and inspect the place he was talking about. There did appear to be some kind of burn mark on the edge of the airlock.\n\n\"Well we still need to go inside and investigate, Lee, your in the middle, I'll take point and Dyan at the rear,\" Hopper moved on without a response.\n\n\"Why is he is charge again?\" Dyan asked, rolling his eyes.\n\n\"His brother is our boss,\" I reply carefully making my own way through the airlock.\n\n\"I can hear you,\" Hopper called over the radio, getting a chuckle fro Dylan. I smile too. Hopper may be related to the CEO but I sure as hell wouldn't want to follow anybody else into this.\n\nProgressing further into the colony the place looked untouched. Even for a place 29 years in the dark. Dust coated everything, but underneath it was bare, almost as if it had been picked clean for parts.\n\n\"I thought there were nearly 300 people in this colony?\" Dyan asked mirroring my own thoughts.\n\n\"Maybe the main airlock broke before what ever shit went down in this place. They just moved their stuff to the main dome. There's the second airlock,\" Hopper pointed toward a hatch in the glass wall up ahead.\n\nThe airlock looked sealed, almost welded shut. Dyan started to un pack some cutting gear with Hoppers help.\n\nLeaving them to it I approach the dome. An early model based off of the ones on Luna. Now all the newer colony's have been built within ravines with glass skies to protect against some of the harsher storms that can occur.\n\nI walk up to one of the glass panels scrubbing at the dust. \"What was the reason that no one has been here to investigate again?\" I ask, finally able to see glass.\n\n\"Politics or something, I dont really remember. But I do know that people are paying for us to do it now. Want to find out what was meant by the last message,\" they finally started cutting, \"what are you doing over there anyway?\" Hopper started to walk over leaving Dyan.\n\nI start to reply as I spot something on the glass. \"Hey look at this,\"\n\n\" it's just more of this damn dust,\"\n\n\"No. I think it's inside,\" I start cleaning of another area of glass then another. Hopper starts to help until finally we step back in shock.\n\n\"You guys alright?\" Dyan stopped cutting and moved to join us halting in his tracks as he looked at what we had revealed.\n\nWritten on the glass in what looked to be dried blood was a message. And it was pointing outward for others.\n\nIt read : All dead. Don't enter" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: A person who ages one year to every one hundred falls in love with a time traveler. Physically they were the same age when they met. They wish to age and die at the same rate." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "> Monday, July 8th, 2019\n\n>\n\n> Day #1 145 201\n\nMy dear Anna,\n\nEvery day, I wake up, thinking it’ll be different, hoping that this will be the case. The wait is hard, it drags. I’ve talked to many who envy my condition, but they don’t understand, and how could they? Not even you do, I’m afraid. I can never talk to you, about what I think when you’re not here, about what I do in these long, dreadful days. You wouldn’t like to know, and every time I see your bright, sunny smile, I can’t bring myself to tell you.\n\nI love you. You know that, it’s not like I hide it, but I need to remind myself of that. When you’re away, it’s easy to forget it. Sometimes, it’s just hard to remember your face, your smile, your gestures, the taste of your kisses, and just why I fell in love with you.\n\nBut it’s also hard when you’re here. To you, it’s like we’ve always been together. I know I change, and I hope you can forgive me for that, but that’s as much change as there’ll ever be to us, at least from your eyes. To you, it’s always new, always about finding out what changed in this world. I love your excitement, every single time. It’s a relief in my dreaded life. Still, I can’t help but feel... we’ve grown apart. And we have, as it has always been.\n\nEvery 100th day, you reassure me, and say exactly what I need to hear. So, deep down, perhaps, I’m wrong, and you know, all these things I haven’t told you. I bet you see all the changes, better than I do, right through me. You probably know, and the fool is me, believing in your apparent ignorance. Maybe that’s why you always have such a bright smile, printed across your face. Yet, I can never bring myself to tell you.\n\nI wonder if this is really love. Truth is, we’re newlywed strangers. Now, it’s certainly better than before, as I have something to look forward to, something to attach me to this world. I hate this life. I’ve long past my time. Yet, every day I meet you, I just can’t bring myself to do it. I know it’s not fair to leave you like this.\n\nThe day after, the very first day, hits really hard. I just wish we had a normal life. I miss you. This life isn’t fair, to neither of us. Though you deserve it, I’ll never give you this letter, because I’m a coward. I’ll never allow us any closure. I’d like to say we’re better off apart, but isn’t that already the case?\n\nI’m sorry, for both of us. For me, doomed to this dragged fate, and for you, who I’m dragging too. I’m sorry I can’t give us a normal life. I’m sorry for what I did (and do), in the 99 days away from you. I’m sorry I can never bring myself to do it, to be honest with you, to tell you goodbye. I’m sorry.\n\nWith love, and until our next time,\n\nYour Jenny." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: A blind person lives with a friendly but harmless robot companion. They clean the house, answer the door for them and open and close the door for them when they come and go. This seemingly harmless robot has warded off several threats that their blind human has no idea of." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I opened my eyes, even if I still couldn't see anything. Off to my right side, something made a cheerful little series of computer tones, almost like a digital birdsong.\n\n\"Good morning, user!\" APHX-01 chirped. \"How did you sleep?\"\n\n\"As well as always,\" I said, smiling. The way I always did, every morning.\n\nI stretched my arms and legs laboriously and yawned, getting out of bed one foot at a time.\n\n\"Are you in pain, user?\" APHX-01 asked, as I rubbed my back. \"Do you require a massage?\"\n\n\"It's all right,\" I said. Out of all the injuries and scars I had acquired in my youth, the little twinges of pain that my lower back had been increasingly making as the years wore on was an afterthought if anything. \"Is breakfast ready?\"\n\n\"There is coffee, bread, and bacon waiting for you downstairs,\" said APHX-01.\n\n\"I smiled at that. \"I thought we were out of pigs, APHX.\"\n\n\"I secured a second source of meat yesterday,\" said APHX-01, and as I began to walk out of the bedroom, I could hear the droid behind me, whirring along. \"Please exercise care when you go down the stairs, user. Some of the stairs may be wet, or slippery, and there are tripping hazards on the kitchen floor. I am still cleaning up.\"\n\n\nAs APHX-01 had warned me, the floor was still sticky in places. Bait, I supposed. It had told me a few days ago that our little home had recently acquired pests; a family of roaches it had discovered living in the wood shed outside, and APHX-01 did not abide any risks at all to my safety. It also had to guide me around a pile of what felt like clothes when I nudged it with my toe.\n\nHad I left my clothes in the kitchen when I'd gone to sleep yesterday evening? I couldn't remember. There was a simple rhythm, a sort of bliss, to the life I had with APHX-01. Far different than the world I'd lived in before that, the one full of screams and blood and savagery. I'd left that life behind when I'd found the cabin.\n\nBreakfast was wonderful, as usual. The bacon was succulent and soft, fried to perfection in its own fats. My diet varied considerably; some winters there was only beans or frozen vegetables from the summer to eat, and some winters APHX-01 hunted enough for me to eat meat for weeks on end. Increasingly rarely over the years, unfortunately. I always savored meat when APHX-01 could find me some.\n\n\"What sort of animal did you find for me today, APHX?\" I asked. I couldn't resist. I was curious what it would say.\n\nThere was a pause.\n\n\"Deer,\" said APHX-01 at last. \"I found it outside, yesterday, eating our corn crop.\"\n\nI laughed. \"Good that you dealt with it before it ate too much, then.\"\n\nAPHX-01 didn't say anything. I listened as it shuffled closer to the table, and when I heard it come close enough to touch, I reached out and gently stroked its armored steel housing. I knew APHX's build even if I'd never seen it; I knew where I could touch without running my fingers over anything spiked, or sharp.\n\n\"I love you, user,\" said APHX-01. Its voice was cold and dull and deep, better suited to weaponry than to a butler-bot. I wished then that I could have reached into its circuitry and fixed it the way it wanted to be fixed. Give it a higher pitch, something less threatening, something more human. \"I would do anything for you.\"\n\n\"I know,\" I said, still gently stroking its brow.\n\nBut then it stirred. \"I see a... rabbit,\" it said. \"Out in the garden.\"\n\nI pulled my hand back as I heard APHX-01 stir, stand up to its full height.\n\n\"I suppose that's lunch, then,\" I said with a smile." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 1400-1500 words. Prompt: Its been 15 years since the \"kids will be kids\" act been in effect...." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I once hated the KWBK Act. It's made no sense to me at the time. Right when I thought life was swell, it was swept away like a rug from under my feet, and I tripped into the process of becoming an adult, making me resent it more than anything.\n\nNow, I know what you may be thinking, \"Well, what's so bad about it?\" I'll tell you. For the first eight years or so of your life, or until you hit puberty, life is heaven. You are the leader of your own schedule in an open, free to roam, section of earth. Basically, you learn and grow on your own, or with other friends. It was surrounded by tall fences, for security reasons. It didn't matter what you wanted to do, you just did it. And as I had stated earlier, life was swell, until I had hit puberty. It wasn't a big change either. Just a little voice change during a conversation with a friend. But the authorities didn't care. They never did.\n\nAs soon as that low note left my lips, two men bursted through a small facility used to supply the children with food and any other supplies the children needed to build their kingdom. They soon came from behind me and grabbed me by the arms. I didn't do anything, I was frightened stiff for what was to come. My friends didn't do anything either, as this happens occasionally with the other children. As I was swept away into the facility, my mind went blank, and then, everything got dark. I felt as light as a feather for one second, and was blasted with cold water the next. I woke up in a dim lighted room, every thing was sort of grey, except for the flesh tones of the man in front of me.\n\n\"Wake up.\" he said, in a flat, unamused voice. I stood there and blinked for a few seconds.\n\n\"Get up.\" I was still dazed about what was happening, and blinked for a few more seconds, when I was sprayed with cold, greenish water with a metallic taste. When I tried to block the water, I noticed my hands were handcuffed together. I complied immediately, and got a real good look at him. He was around 5' almost 6', wore a short sleeved grey propper tactical shirt, along with some grey cargo pants, where as each pocket seemed to be filled with something, and a grey infantry cap to top it all off. His hair was that of dry grass and his face was long, his eyes were sunken in and dead, with bags upon bags under them, and looked overall stiff as of he was a walking statue.He let out a hoarse cough as he gave out my next order.\n\n\"You are to follow me until you are told otherwise.\" I complied, still completely confused on what the hell was going on.\n\nWe headed down a hall of doors, and entered the third door to the left, which held its own corridor to its only room. In the room were several devices for who knows what purpose and a woman who was around 5' tall. As soon as I entered, she ordered me to sit. My guide removed my handcuffs and stood next to my seat, hands clutched together and feet spread apart.\n\n\"Welcome,\" she said with a smile, \" to Amberton, or also known as Facility 146, located in Section 12 of the Southern Continent. You are here to be trained to take the place of your guide.\" She said everything with a smile, as if anything she said sounded good to me. I looked up at my \"guide\", whom remained in his stiff position with a stone cold, emotionless face. \"Your position is Awakener.\" she continued. \"All your instructions and tasks regarding your occupation are to come from your instructor. You will also be now known as Awakener 57W. Don't worry, I know what you're thinking, 'What? Why am I an Awakener?' We've tracked your behavior towards the other children and on your own, so we're sure you'll like this job!\" With this, my \"instructor\" looked at me.\n\n\"Get up and follow me.\" He said. I did as was told and walked into another room, filled with different uniforms on racks. He gave me a set a of clothes much like the one he was wearing, but fitted to my size, and pointed to the dressing room.\n\n\"You are to change and come back to me as soon as you are finished.\" I marched down to the small room and did as I was told. We then left to the room I first awoke in.\n\nThe room was almost entirely empty, except for what looked to be a nozzle on the wall, a chair cemented to the ground facing the wall the nozzle was on, and a door close behind the chair. As soon as we entered, two men came through the door with a sleeping child. I immediately recognised the child as the kid I played with from time to time.\n\n\"Watch me.\" said the instructor, and I did, as he pulled on the nozzle revealing it to be a hose, to which he used to spray the child's face, to which he used to spray my face twice before.\n\nThe child sprang up from her slumber, eyes as wide as the moon, sparkling like the stars, and staring at my instructor like a deer in headlights, until she noticed me in the background. Her eyes widened even further when she layed them on me, her mouth opening slightly. My eyes widen a little as well, as I began to feel sorry for her.\n\n\"Get up.\" said my instructor, but she didn't listen, and instead continued to look at me in horror. My instructor began to spray her a second time, until I spoke up.\n\n\"S-Stop! Don't -\" was all I could manage, but he sprayed her anyways. The child let out a small noise once she realised she was handcuffed.\n\n\"You can't get attached to them,\" my instructor started, \"or you won't get them to listen to you. Trust me.\" The child had stood up at this time, just as confused as I was.\n\n\"You are to follow me until you are told otherwise. And you-,\" he said, pointing a finger at me, \"-are to stay here until I return.\" As always, I listened and waited. And waited. And waited. After what seemed like hours in this lifeless room,he returned, and as he entered, another child did too.This child happened to be the one I was talking to before all of this. He was handcuffed and sat in the chair.\n\n\"Spray him in the face.\" said my instructor.\n\n\"Wha- What?!\" I stammered.\n\n\"That is your job. Now do it.\" I did as was told, and my friend's eyes flew open. He nearly screamed when he awoke, but closed his mouth as soon as he saw me.\n\n\"Jerry?\" He asked me with a bewildered look. Jerry was the name I was called by the other children.\n\n\"Tell him to get up.\" said my instructor.\n\n\"U-uh, g-get up.\" I said, trying to avoid eye contact with the child.\n\n\"What are you talking about?\" he said with a small chuckle and tried to move his arms. \"Uh, hey do you know what's going on? Why am I handcuffed?\"\n\n\"Spray him again for not listening and speaking out of line.\" ordered my instructor. I turned the nozzle towards my friend.\n\n\"I'm sorry... \" I said, closing my eyes as I sprayed him, with full force. Actually, I began to like it.\n\n\"What the hell man?!? Why'd you-\" he wasn't even able to finish his sentence when I sprayed him again for yelling.\n\n\"Shut the hell up and get up!\" I said, with a stern look in my eye and a great firmness in my voice. My instructor shot me a look of what seemed to be pride, while who once was my friend looked at me in horror. \"You are to follow my instructor until you are told otherwise.\" I continued. My instructor tried to stifle a grin but failed miserably.\n\n\"You remind me of myself when I first started.\" he remarked, as he began to escort the child to the area where he was needed, and for some reason, this little statement made me feel sort of glad. \"I can only assume you know what to do next?\" My instructor said. I nodded in agreement and watched as he walked away. Maybe this job won't be as bad as I thought it would." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: When the palace was cursed, everyone began to turn to stone. To save you, they gave you the elixir of immortality. After watching the kingdom fall to ruin, you wander the palace alone. Guarding your true love's statue from the elements and anyone who trespass to find immortality." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I enter my chamber with weary footsteps. Taking off my sword and my armour, I place them on the pedestals I specifically made beside the door. It made putting on and taking off my armaments easy especially when I was called to battle.\n\nAfter removing my vestments, I immediately wash my face and my hair. I tried so hard to remove the stench of blood from me. I couldn't let her see what I go through on a daily basis.\n\nPlacing on clothes fit for royalty, I make my way to the innermost part of the chamber. Past the lethal traps and winding pathways, I finally see her illuminated under the moonlight.\n\nShe stood in the middle of the courtyard, unmoving, without breath. She stood in a frozen stare, looking at me.\n\n\"10 steps in front, two steps to the right.\" I tell myself. If I stand here at this point, she would have been looking at me with her smile. Just like when she was stricken down with the curse along with the castle's other dwellers. She didn't even bother to panic when the curse besieged her. She merely looked at me and mouthed her last words.\n\nI slowly walk towards her and stroke her cold cheek. Although she was encased in marble, her beauty still exuded from her stony prison. I couldn't help but smile as I looked into her eyes.\n\n\"You still looked as beautiful as the day the curse fell upon us.\"\n\nI brushed my long hair back, out of my eyes. It reached my shoulders again. It was time to trim it, even though it will grow back within a day.\n\n\"And I maintain my image the moment I drank that elixir.\"\n\nThe king had me drink the kingdom's most valuable item, the elixir of immortality, with the request to find a way and reverse the curse.\n\nThat was eons ago.\n\nAfter despairing and lamenting until I bled tears, I resolved to save the one thing that would keep me sane should I live forever and outlive everyone else. I turned to her again.\n\n\"Did you know dear? The flowers you were holding out towards me wasn't turned to stone. I always replace the flowers in your hand with whatever is in season. This time I found some hydrangeas.\"\n\nI slip some hydrangeas I found on the way back to the chamber in the space in between her hands.\n\n\"They're getting smarter as well. This time they used poison, a hex, and some new magick to bind me. They all say the same thing - they just want my blood. They think I'm a monster. What can I do but defend myself? I simply don't want anyone else to suffer the same fate as I did.\"\n\nIn the distance, I hear a chime and a few bells go off in succession. Intruders have set off the alarm again. Treasure hunters, monster hunters, or explorers. Whatever they call themselves today, they are all the same. I take position before I leave.\n\n\"10 steps to the front, two steps to the right.\" I look back and remember her last words to me.\n\n\"Thank you. I'm heading off now.\" I say in return." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: There is an urban legend that if you put a skull up to your ear you can hear a person's last thoughts. One day as a joke you put your ear up to the skeleton in your science class and hear something." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The jaw was missing, making the skull unnatural and creepy looking. It was very difficult for Sam to understand how everything he thought and did, came from inside a similar thing, especially as he felt bigger than his own head.\n\n\"Today's class is about the skeleton of the human body. You will each get the chance to hold a bone that has formed a crucial part in our evolution as a species. The femur that Shelley has right now allowed us to run fast, the thumb bone that...where is it, ah, that Gordon has, let us create and use tools, and our skull evolved to protect our brain, which allowed us to out-think predators. Please study each one for a few minutes and pass it to your neighbor. AND BE CAREFUL, these are real bones, donated to my great-great grandfather and are extremely fragile. \" Mr. Moran told the class.\n\nSam barely heard the teacher. The smooth hard cavity was dark behind the eye sockets, long cleaned of all the substance that made up whoever had inhabited it. No light seemed to reach the inside of the skull. With both hands placed on either temple, Sam pulled the nose-less face to his own, and peered into the dark space where a man's eyes had once been.\n\nThe sounds of the class faded around Sam, and he felt far away. A sound like waves crashing on a beach washed over him, and in the rushing crescendo's he thought he heard a whisper. \"....wald,\" the waves seemed to say. \"Gris....wald....did it.\"\n\nSurprise and horror made Sam lose grip on the skull, and he dropped it on the bench in front of him. The bang sounded hollow, but was loud enough for Mr. Moran to look at him sharply. Sam stood up quickly, his stool scraping across the tiled floor. \"I...I...\" he stammered., staring at the skull, now resting on its side, eye sockets staring at him, the darkness inside them accusatory. He needed to get away from the thing as quickly as possible. \"I need to use the washroom,\" he said abruptly, grabbing his backpack and walked quickly out of the room, sniggers of his classmates following him.\n\nJoe had let the kid leave, being more concerned with the state of the skull than the student. One or two every year got freaked out or had a mild existential crisis when holding the bones. One girl, years before, had even said she heard a voice coming from it.\n\nAfter the room had emptied, Joe scooped it up and protectively cradled it, grateful for the clear enamel that covered the bone, protecting it from dents and cracks. He had touched up the coating a few months past, in time-honored tradition after his father and his father before him, and his father before him. Every October the 7th, without fail, the skull was taken down from the shelf and maintained in this way. Since 1875. When the skull had been separated from its owner's body, 26 years after its last day with blood and lofty thoughts coursing through it. It had been a contradictory act of spite and comedy, a desecration by two jealous men who wanted the final laugh over a man who held them in little regard when alive.\n\nAnd so the legacy was passed on to Joe's father, and then on to him. To ensure that the man who it belonged to would never find rest in death. \"The boundaries between life and death are shadowy and vague,\" Joe whispered as he placed the skull back onto the highest shelf at the back of the room, where it would remain until the next time." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You're sitting alone at a cafe when a woman you don't recognize comes over to you and says \"When it all comes back to you, come find me,\" and walks away." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The human brain is a funny thing. It spends a lifetime collecting, absorbing, creating a lifetime of memories. But one wrong move, one little blow to the exact wrong part of your skull, and it’s gone. All of it.\n\nThey found me in an alleyway, lying in a pool of my own blood. The poor lady who rang the ambulance thought I was a goner. Later the doctors said that if I did wake up from the coma I would most likely never make a full recovery. Yet against all the odds, I survived. Eventually, I made an almost full recovery. Almost.\n\nPhysically, I was perfect. Mentally, I was irreparably broken. I couldn’t remember what happened, where I came from, I couldn’t even remember my own name. They estimated I was about fifteen years old, but there were no records of missing teenagers in the area. They launched a national appeal asking anyone who recognised me to come forward, they looked at school records and tried to match me up with profiles of missing children, but there was nothing. No one ever came to claim me.\n\nEventually the media circus moved on, and I disappeared into the system. They gave me a name, foster parents, and a place at the local high school. But it wasn’t easy – I felt distant, alienated from my classmates and their lives, and unable to keep up with classes based on ten years of education that had been wiped from my mind. By the time I reached my senior year, there was little doubt among any of my teachers that I was failing. I started skipping class more and more frequently, until I rarely bothered going at all.\n\nThat was how I found myself sitting alone in Ray’s Café that morning, nursing a black coffee and a book by Terry Pratchett. For all my disdain for the school system, I had an integral love of reading. Books transported me to another reality, where I could lose myself in worlds a thousand miles away from my own lonely reality.\n\nI barely noticed the bell ring as a new customer walked into the store. I heard the sound of footsteps walking towards the counter, before they stopped abruptly right in front of my table.\n\nI looked up.\n\nThe woman was a little older than me, in her early twenties perhaps. She had straight blonde hair, and wore no makeup. I had never seen her before. Yet the second our eyes met, a jolt ran through me. It felt strange, as if we’d met before. As if I recognised her\n\nThe corners of her mouth turned up into a grin. She didn’t speak, but reached out and took hold of my wrist. Then with her other hand she pressed something small and hard into my palm.\n\n“When it all comes back to you, come find me,” she said. Then she turned and walked out of the café.\n\n“Wait!” I jumped out of my seat and ran to the door. But the street outside was empty – she had disappeared.\n\nI looked down at my hand and slowly opened my fist to reveal a small gold coin. I held it up to the light. It wasn’t any currency I had ever seen before, and it was inscribed with letters in a strange language that I didn’t recognise.\n\nYet as I looked at them, a niggling feeling started in the back of my mind. The same sense of familiarity washed over me, like a memory just out of reach, or a phrase on the tip of my tongue.\n\nThen suddenly, something clicked into place. The symbols resolved into words. And I knew exactly where I needed to go." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You Are A Demon Hunter Who Had Fainted Due To A Injury. You Then Woke Up Bandaged And Saw Your Savior Is A Demon." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The first thing I woke to was pain. My right arm was ablaze with it, coupled with a feeling of wrongness. I groaned, shifting slightly. With a regimented mind I pushed it to the side, allowing me to register my other senses.\n\nI was warm, with something soft over my chest and legs. I could smell some form of meat cooking. I could hear it bubble, along with a quiet hum. I could taste old blood in my mouth, probably from a fight. With effort I forced my eyes open, taking in my surroundings.\n\nI was in a furnished room. The walls were mostly bare, save for a couple of paintings of fruit. Against one wall was a chest of drawers, on top of which sat a vase of roses. A simple door lay open, the source of the hum and smell. My gear was carefully placed beside it, the leather armour cleaned.\n\n\"Ah, you're awake!\"\n\nA cheerful voice rang out, followed by footsteps. I looked up to the door, as they approached. I wasn't sure who I expected to see. Maybe an ex-hunter, or a wannabe.\n\nThe first thing I noticed was their skin. It was bright pink, and oddly shiny. A pair of horns curled from either side of their head, with a larger one rising from the back. Purple hair covered their bases, flowing down beyond their shoulders. Their eyes were red, crinkled with good humour. Their body was lithe, with the build of a runner. A tail held up a bowl of something, finishing off their appearance.\n\n\"You gave us quite a fright hun, fighting old Ragebone.\"\n\nI went to push myself up, seeing the demon before me. But as I did, I noticed the absence to my right. I looked down, finally remembering. A tearing sensation, followed by agony. My arm dangling in the grip of a War demon.\n\n\"My arm...\"\n\nThe demon gave a sigh, pulling at my cover.\n\n\"I'm sorry hun. I did what I could, but reattaching limbs is beyond what I can do.\"\n\nI struggled to calm down. This was an end to my purpose. I couldn't fight like this. And now I had a demon who basically had me at their mercy. I felt myself shaking, and a hand rested gently on my shoulder.\n\n\"It's going to be OK hun.\"\n\nI forced myself to speak again, seeing the demon look at me with pity.\n\n\"Why... why are you helping me?\"\n\nThey gave me a pat, before pulling me up the bed. They fluffed up pillows behind me, making sure I had support.\n\n\"You needed it hun. And Ragebone felt just terrible after you fainted. He brought you to me to heal you.\"\n\nI frowned, as they put a tray on my lap. The bowl was placed on it, revealed to contain a form of chicken soup. They put a spoon next to it.\n\n\"Now, I know you're a hunter hun. But that's no reason for us to just let you die. Besides, we're different from your usual demon hun.\"\n\nI sighed internally, picking up the spoon. True, it might be poisoned. But I couldn't do anything else like this. Especially not with the demon watching.\n\n\"How are you different? All demons are monsters.\"\n\nThey laughed.\n\n\"Oh, normally I would agree with you. But in this place, we push aside such base tendencies. Of course, we still have the beasts below the surface, but unless provoked we keep them chained.\"\n\nThey nudged towards the soup, before standing up.\n\n\"Now eat your soup hun, I will be back in a bit to collect your bowl.\"\n\nThey left the room, and I felt my tension ease slightly. I wasn't sure where to go from here. But if this demon was being kind, I would take it. Heaven knows I needed a break for once." } ]