mradermacher/Llama3.1-Reddit-Writer-8B-i1-GGUF
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1,277 | third_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in third person and around 1200-1300 words. Prompt: Long after the wars ended and their kingdoms made peace, the Immortal Paladin and the Undying Warlock begin to realize that they keep coming back to the same battlefields not because they wish to fight, but to find solace in the other's company."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "The walls behind Gjallihad stretched for miles in each direction - White marble palisades eighty feet tall and ten feet thick as far as one could see, and within them stood his Kingdom and the Crown who had granted him power.\n\nThe Crown had beseeched the Goddess of Light to grant their strongest champion with the power to defeat the foe of their kingdom, and the Goddess had answered - Imbuing Gjallihad with wounds ever healing, and youth eternal. An obvious and complete parallel to their long time enemy.\n\nAcross from Gjallihad stood Araxis, the field of green upon which they both stood dying beneath his feet, and the light somehow dimmer, tainted around his form.\n\nAraxis was immortal in his own right, like a Lich from the lore he studied so deeply. His power was rooted in the darkness, the arcane and the evil - souls into the furnace of his existence fueled his life, healed his wounds, and gave him the command over the natural order of things.\n\nIn times not-so-long past now, the two had thrown armies at one another and wielded magnificent weapons of ages lost, trying to tear down one another, and their respective kingdoms. Legions of dead breaking upon walls that could not be scaled, like a jibbering hoard of madness made flesh.\n\nKnights in shining armor riding forth with effort and bravery to defeat this evil, being cut down by horrors never before seen. All except Gjallihad, his armor touched with gold, sword nothing less than a captured bolt of lightning. As champions, Araxis and Gjallihad crashed on the battlefield as titans, combatants around them giving room and respect to two forces of nature as they dueled. But never to a winner - Always to a draw.\n\nThe dead would exhaust the power of Araxis, and the loss of life would deter Gjallihad from pressing further. Attrition was the answer to a question they began to ponder over time, but soon the world moved on.\n\nThe Crown that has blessed Gjallihad his power fell from grace, but the Goddess never withdrew her gift. No less, she ceased speaking to anyone at all, and the Priests simply mimicked ancient customs for a hundred, hundred years. He no longer heard her comforting whisper any longer, despite a life of devout piety. His position changed, and no longer was he required to don the sword and plate, but vestments of the clergy to blend into society. Soon he was not more than a legend inside the great walled city.\n\nAraxis faced a similar challenge as the world grew and evolved. He had become adept at raising the dead from massive battlefields and recruiting a standing army, but technology had swiftly crashed into the realm of things that only magic could do before - Great machines of gunpowder and steel would destroy hundreds of dead in a single shot, and siege warfare became pointless as crops were grown behind walls and on rooftops, hidden away from the outside world. Anymore, Araxis was hissed as a curse, the name spit from tongues not with awe and fear, but with disdain at any inconvenience. A milk wench stepped on a field mouse in the barn, \"Araxis take this damned thing...\" - Some threat.\n\nBut he did. He took the small things, the dead things no one would miss, the animals and children and elderly and brought them back, one by one, no more standing hoard. And they were his companions from time to time until magic, waning thin from a lack of mass-murder and death, threw them back to the void. Eventually, he would retreat into the modern magic, \"Sciences\" as people began calling them - Wielding chemical compounds and twisting nature in an all-too-familiar fashion.\n\nTwo hundred years had passed since they met on the field of battle for the last time - Araxis grievously wounded and Gjallihad taut and exhausted, each sounding the retreat for their forces. And again, behind Gjallihad stood great white palisades, stretching to each side - Now mounted with large cannons and sentry posts. He strode confidently out among the gardens and fields where farmers grew crops, children played. In the distance, Gjallihad spotted a smear in reality, a dark void that came and went as quickly as lightning flashed - And in its place stood Araxis.\n\nGjallihad hadn't seen the foe for the entirety of those two hundred years and was not prepared in the slightest. Feigning his own strength, he strode forward confidently to greet the slightly hunched, old-as-he-ever-was man. He could hear from the few hundred feet he had yet to cross as Araxis spit words at him, \"Have at thee!\"\n\nA small, boney sparrow smashed into Gjallihads' chest, chirped and then ignited into a small puff of violet flame. Araxis fumed as this attack was not even rebuffed, simply laughed at as the men grew closer together, threatening postures declining as each saw the other for the first time in so long.\n\n-Gjallihad stood scant feet from his enemy, arms outstretched and smiled - \"Welcome, oldest foe. You have lost, because... well, here we are. Alive and city bustling, the world thriving away from your lichery.\"\n\n-Araxis simply nodded his agreement, looking about them with a sigh. \"It's nothing so terrible as I had imagined. I find this place, our battlefield of old, to be one of the few places that bring me comfort. The blood spilled here, and the death and decay beneath this pleasant field restore what little of my strength I hold on to.\n\n-A brief nod and Gjallihad looked about, acknowledging that the battlefield of old was now a beautiful field, with houses being raised in the distance, cobblestone road leading to the city, and a river trickling not far away. \"I believe, Araxis... That we are the only two of our kind. And we shall likely live to make sure no others come after. Let us meet here, and enjoy this peace every so often as a reminder, yes?\"\n\nAraxis didn't agree, nor did he disagree - He simply vanished in a thick cloud of black flies, a slip in space all that remained for a brief moment before disappearing as well. Gjallihad sighed, turned about and walked back to the city, taking his time to tussle the hair of the children and kick a small leather ball around with the older boys before returning to the church for the evening.\n\nYears passed yet again - Years into decades, decades into centuries. The world changed even more rapidly now, the church changing along with it - The Goddess was forsaken, and an all-encompassing God took her place, with many similar features. While Gjallihad spoke against this, everyone who remembered him, and even his legend had long since passed by. With great sadness he accepted this, and kept his worship to himself in his own quarters, knowing the true Divine has long-since gone silent. He paid lip service to keep his position in the Church, and over-all provided the exact same comfort to those who came to them in times of need. Wars sprouted up and kingdoms changed hands - Monarchies were ended, governments established and wars fought over that as well.\n\nAraxis witnessed this as well, and his power swelled and waned in time to the coming and goings of political events and wars around the world. Steam and electric power came to be and no longer were candles and faint little magic used to keep people warm, and places lit. Horses grew out of use, replaced with wood and metal chariots driven by steam and coal, and then by oil."
}
] |
1,027 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 1000-1100 words. Prompt: Scientists have just discovered that reincarnation is real. They can track the lineage of every person you once were, but only you can see it, so others can’t harm you based on your past lives. Upon receiving your results, you find out you were Jesus Christ."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "I checked my email for the confirmation. Clicked the link. It took me to a modern looking site, resembling one of those DNA testing services. I'd taken one a few years back, interested in seeing my marker, my genetic trace. This was similar, but bigger. Past lives, I thought to myself. \"What the fuck,\" I exclaimed to no one. How could there be past lives? Reincarnation? This shit is crazy. I glanced at the page, loading.\n\n5%...\n\nGuess I'll have to wait a minute, probably a huge server load. Ever since the discovery had gone mainstream its been the vogue. All everyone talks about, for almost two weeks now. Of course, most kept quiet about past lives. I shuddered knowing some unlucky soul who discovered he was a future life of Hitler or something... that could be me, i thought. Impossible, there is seven billion of us, and we probably had multiple previous lives. I did the mental math, no way. I was probably some pizza delivery guy, or an Uber driver. Not anyone of any importance. I guess it beats being Hitler...\n\n45%...\n\nI glanced at the screen, getting closer. The adrenaline levels started to climb. A dull thump which rose to an alertness. The feeling of stepping up onto a stage, of waiting for an important email. This was it. I was going to see myself ... before.\n\n75%...\n\nI glanced around my dingy apartment, of course it wasn't too dirty, but it wasn't great either. Maybe if i was a famous person before... no... i can't be. But hypothetically... I could definitely bank off of it. I pondered for a few seconds. Of course, many choose to just live without knowing their past lives, or at least, they don't discuss it. I don't blame them, but the peer pressure has gotten to me.\n\n86%...\n\nI stared at the green loading circle. Around and around and around... ad nauseum. Is this what our lives are like now? A great circle? Is death really the same... I'm overthinking, I thought, chuckling to myself. No need to get all philosophical, its just like those DNA tests, something to think about. A conversation starter, yes. That's it.\n\n95%...\n\nThen again, what if it was bad. What if it was Hitler, or some other fucking dictator. What would I do... no it can't be. It can't be. There are plenty who have taken the test and choose not to talk of their past lives, of course. What if I become one of them? Will I still fit in... or will there be uncertainty.\n\n98%...\n\nFuck, i thought. I'm getting philosophical again. God damned pessimism, striking again. The adrenaline came back, i smiled. The screen explained:\n\n99%...\n\nThis is it. This is the moment, oh fuck. What will it be, what will it be. I guess i'm betting on pizza delivery guy. No need to be a millionaire in my past life, get my hopes down like that. Too think... there could be some homeless man sitting outside my building, and in his past life he could have been in downtown, sitting in his lavish chair, surrounded by riches. Almost unimaginable.\n\n100%\n\nAh damn, of course its one of those loading screens, bait me to 100% and then a longer damn wait... eh whatever, I have all night anyway.\n\nA soft ding sound played from the speakers of my laptop, almost masked by the jet-engine fans. God it's a piece of shit, almost 6 years old... anyway. The perpetual spinning ring transfigured into a check-mark, one of those modern snazzy animations, and the text under it changed from \"Loading...\" to \"Success.\" I sighed, the adrenaline peaking, this is truly the moment. I clicked the button which appeared below, \"see you results!\" Click... loading... loading... loading. Fuck this WiFi is horrible... five seconds to load a page? The elements of the page started loading in. Some placeholder items. Then the names appeared. Above them some statistics. I started off with those.\n\n\"Number of reincarnations\"\n\nI read. Holy Shit that's a lot. 32 in total. I mean its not an ungodly number but... 32 lives? Damn. Well I guess that ups my chances... not by much of course.\n\nNext to it was another number\n\n\"Average number of reincarnations per person\"\n\n\"9.83.\"\n\nHuh. That's... about what i expected I guess. I didn't realize I was that above average, interesting.\n\nI started scrolling down, better see the names, I guess. Of course it started chronologically, latest to earliest. I started investigating the names, holding up the suspense of what the oldest name would be. Of course, almost every one was some random Joe of the street, no one significant. And after a few lives, it was hard to even google them for their records. There were a few notable ones towards the top, some do-gooders, or someone who got into the news, but no one too significant. No millionaires, billionaires, celebrities. None until the bottom. The oldest name.\n\nI held off from the oldest name for a while, scrolling just above it. I wen't to get a shot before I saw it. The burning sensation of the Vodka helped ease the adrenaline a bit, I took another shot, walked back over and sat down next to the laptop. One flick of a finger and I would see it. According to the chronological timeline, the name I was about to see was at least too hundred years old, or older, as the penultimate name was 198 years old. I scrolled down. The letters spelled it out.\n\n\"Jesus Christ\"\n\nI nearly fell out of my chair.\n\n\"Jesus Christ!\" I yelled. smiling at my unintentional pun. Fuck, there must have been a mistake. This is all a good joke right? But it couldn't be... After settling down, I checked my account. I had a notification congratulating me on a famous past life. So it was real.. this isn't a glitch.\n\nI wen't to take another shot, wondered what I was going to do. It was all well and good, and extremely lucky, that I got a famous \"predecessor\" but there was one slight problem.\n\nIm an atheist."
}
] |
775 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: A tourist leaning against Stonehenge for a picture inadvertently presses a concealed mechanism revealing an elaborate chamber beneath the rocks"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "James had been more unbearable than usual that day. Running around and kicking the stones, it was no wonder the rest of the tour group avoided us like the plague. I was exhausted. The 4 hour bus ride with a 26 year old man child had proven to be more difficult than I had anticipated.\n\nI leaned against one of the massive stones in the henge, thinking of ways to create makeshift earplugs for the ride back, when I heard a click behind me. I quickly got up just in time to see the massive stone rising from the Earth. I had just been leaning on it a second ago, and now it had suddenly grown about 20 feet taller. The entire Stonehenge was shifting now, and everyone in the group was panicking in the center, trying to figure out what the hell was happening. James, on the other hand, was trying to climb the massive, moving rock.\n\nAfter what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a few seconds, the stones stopped moving. Underneath where I was sitting, there was a newly revealed hole in the ground. At first I thought it was just a ditch, but I could make out stairs in the darkness below. I called for the group, suddenly aware that I knew absolutely none of their names. They all gathered round and looked towards the tour guide for, well, guidance. The guide quickly ran back into the bus, claiming that he wasn't getting paid enough for this shit. A few people followed, but some stayed here. James was standing on top of the tallest stone, trying to get my attention . I told him to wait up there and not to move until help arrived. The drop was definitely big enough to kill him.\n\nEveryone else was silently staring into the hole. The stairs seemed like they would go on forever, but it was so dark no one could be so sure. I pulled out my phone and turned on the flashlight. Everyone looked towards me since no one wanted to be the first one going in.\n\nI descended the stairs, panning my flashlight around the darkness, trying to make sense of the room I was in. A few brave souls followed behind me, phones in hand. After about 200 or so steps, the staircase had stopped. We were in a massive room. there was an echo of the remaining footsteps coming down the stairs, and we all pointed our flashlights into the void. I told everyone to split up, so that we could find the borders of this room. Everyone began venturing off into different directions, calling out their names every few seconds so that we would still know they were there. I walked straight ahead for a while. This room seemed to be bigger than a football field. I could still hear all the people calling out their names, and it had started to become quite annoying.\n\nI finally reached what looked like a well, I looked down into it, shining my light towards the bottom, but it was too deep to see anything. While I was thinking about the purpose of a well this far underground, I noticed the strange, ambient sound in the room. I realized that the voices calling out their names had stopped. I called out for anyone, praying they would still be there, but there was no response. I assumed that they had just gotten too far to hear me, and I decided to continue investigating this well.\n\nI peered into the abyss, holding my phone in front of me, when out of nowhere a gale-force wind blew up from the bottom. In a panic I dropped my phone into the well. I watched it tumble down, hearing it bounce off the walls, until I finally heard a splash. I looked down to see the light pointed back up at me. The air now had a strange odor to it. It almost smelled like bad breath. I was trying to focus on all my senses at once when I saw the light turn off at the bottom. I was totally in the dark.\n\nI contemplated walking back, but I could barely see my own hands in the pitch black around me. There was no way I was making it back without getting lost. I looked back into the well again, and noticed my flashlight had turned back on.\n\nMy body registered it before my brain did. I was already walking into the nothingness before I realized that my phone only had one flashlight, but there were two lights pointed back at me."
}
] |
549 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: Every living thing has a shadow, because of this they're seen as a natural occurrence. Recent studies find that in reality shadows are life draining leeches, and are the sole reason death exists."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "“I’m afraid Richmond, you’re going to have to have your shadow taken off,” Doctor Albert said. He flipped the paper on his clipboard over once more before he looked back at me again.\n\n“That’s the solution? Doc, I’m not that old and I’m not that sick.”\n\n“It’s not about how sick you are now. It’s about how sick you will become. Your shadow is much too tasking on your body. Soon I doubt you’ll be able to keep up and it will drain your last years faster than your first ones.” He got up and walked over to the cabinet. He opened the right door and peered into it.\n\n“It’s not so bad having your shadow taken off. Of course you won’t live up here anymore but I’ve been to The Underground. Most of its places are quite luxurious. The Hospitals there have some things I’ve never even seen.”\n\nI couldn’t take him seriously. I believed that he was serious. He had given me an answer to my question. An answer that he firmly believed would fix me or help me at least. He was probably right. I… my body would only deteriorate more if I didn’t do anything. I might not have as much time as I thought.\n\n“Let’s say I go through the procedure, do I get better? Does my body come back? Do my muscles grow back?”\n\n“The short version, is no. However, your muscles will no longer deteriorate or degenerate, meaning you won’t get worse. They will remain in the same condition as the day you remove your shadow. Therefore, you may be able to properly adjust to them and grow them, under certain circumstances, in order to get back full range of motion in all of your muscle groups. Although I can’t say for certain, you’ll most likely be able to with the help of the technology there. I don’t think anything is truly impossible anymore with their equipment and knowledge.”\n\nThere had to be a drawback. Somewhere. If this place is so good, it wouldn’t be hidden underground.\n\n“Listen, Rich,” he said. He handed me a pamphlet, “I’ll arrange a visit and you can go see if you really want to do it. There’s nothing wrong with living out the rest of your life normally either.”\n\n\"The Radiosphere\" was in big bold letters at the top. I opened it to see machines which looked something like a dentist’s chair except patients were strapped in with multiple belts looped around their body. They looked about as uncomfortable as they might be at a dentist though. The big caption read “over 100,000 different medical procedures and surgeries performed by the world best surgeons and medical personnel\". On the second flap, a caption mentioned shadow removal and how it was “easy and affordable”. I stared at the unusual smile of a girl on the third flap, who looked as if she was being forced to smile at me, through the pamphlet. I wonder if she was warning me. I closed it and looked down at the floor.\n\n“Alright doc. Guess I’ll go visit them under the soil,” I said.\n\n“Oh no,” Doctor Albert said as he laughed, “It isn’t literally underground. The Underground is a place. It’s where you’ll stay after you’re stripped of your shadow.”"
}
] |
619 | third_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: After the accident you had a floating blind spot the size of a quarter in your right eye. Lately you’ve been noticing what looks like figures moving around inside of it. They’ve noticed you’ve noticed."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "The little figure in the corner of James eye seemed to have frozen\n\n\"Beth, don't move. He's looking.\" Sirius whispered from the recesses of James mind.\n\nBeth stayed still, scared to inch anymore. She could tell James had noticed. He was still and tense.\n\nJames wouldn't dare move. He froze in place, mimicking the figure in his eyes.\n\nAfter he was hit in the eye during soccer practice his vision never fully recovered. He could see fine except for an everlasting, football shaped blur in the top right corner of his left eye. This blur was something the doctors told him wouldn't go away. They told James he would just 'have to get used to it.'\n\nJames spent a lot of time looking at this blur. He complained to his doctors that the blur seemed to be moving, almost like it was 'bustling with activity'. His doctor told him it was eye tadpoles, and that it happens when damage is caused to someone's eyes. James tried to accept this verdict, but couldn't. He knew his doctor was wrong.\n\nJames focused on this football in his eye more and more, and eventually came to notice patterns in the movement. The shapes seemed to move whenever James was deep in thought. James would go about his day, with a minor blind spot in his vision and never notice anything. However, the second James would think of something deeply, memorize a fact, or meditate, the blind spot would turn into an encapsulated kaleidoscope of silhouettes. This was one of those times.\n\nJames was cramming for a calculus test that he had in two days. He had been busy studying for nearly three hours before the football in his eye was obnoxiously animated. This time he completely froze when he saw the figure moving. He noticed the figure froze too. Jame's could barely make out the silhouette of a woman in his eye. He wondered if his mind had just been playing games with him for the past two months. Maybe he was going crazy.\n\nJames let out a deep breath and whispered \"I see you in there\" and was surprised to hear an immediate response.\n\n\"Good that means I won't have to hide anymore!\" called out a feminine voice.\n\n\"Beth! What are you doing?\" Screeched a man whom James could not see.\n\nJames heart dropped. He pinched himself and said \"Am I going crazy? Did you actually just say something?\"\n\nA sillhoutte of a man appeared in the blurry football.\n\n\"James. Good to finally meet you. I'm Sirius, and this is Beth. We're the head mind-engineers of your mind.\"\n\n\"Hi James! Good to meet you, sorry for scaring you for the last couple of months!\" Called out a girls voice.\n\nJames got up from his desk and sat down on his bed. \"Wait what? I have people inside of my head?\"\n\n\"Everyone does James! I'll pull up a screen on the main retinas so you can see what we look like.\" Sirius called out.\n\nJames saw an image of an older looking man and a young and attractive girl.\n\n\"James, the people in our line of work do not normally make ourselves know to the client. You however, are one of the lucky few\" Sirius said calmly.\n\n\"We have things we need to show you James. But you cannot tell anyone about this. It's possible that we could lose our jobs if other people found out, and I am sure you can guess what that means for you.\"\n\nJame's swallowed and let out a long breath of air and then sat up straight on his bed.\n\n\"Well then let's do this\" he replied with a steady lip.\n\n^(Any feedback is appreciated :-))"
}
] |
964 | third_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: One day a Superhero snaps in a battle with the Supervillain, and proceeds to go off on them with insults so catastrophic the villain decides to quit right then and there."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "The crowd stands in shock. No hero has ever used such atrocious language. The villain, crying, so ashamed of his behavior that he divests himself of all his devices. Leaving them in a pile, he staggers away.\n\nThe hero, breathing deeply, eyes closed, has such a look of pained relief that sympathy is one's first reaction until you remember the flow of cutting filth that has just emanated from that noble face. Revulsion is the second reaction, and no one disagrees with that.\n\nA matron storms forward to confront the hero.\n\n\"How dare you use such language in front of my children!\"\n\nA twisted smile comes to the hero's face.\n\n\"Madam, I know you all too well. You are Karen Davis-Moth. You have two children, frequently the subject of worried conversations among the teachers and administration for the signs of abuse they show, yet they have no visible marks upon their bodies. I know you very well, indeed. Your language is such that even I have flinched away. The worst thing of all,\" opening his eyes, the hatred clear to see, \"is that the target of that vitriol is your children. I have sufficient proof to file for a protective order on their behalf. I have stayed my hand for the evident love that they hold for you. No more. I suggest you attempt to make peace with your children, for this is the last day that they will ever see you until they reach their majority.\"\n\nHer face is twisted with shock, only to explode in a torrent of filth at least equal to the hero's, if lacking in originality. His wicked smile grows more robust, with a light of vindication glowing from his eyes. She ends her tirade with, \"and you will retract that obviously false accusation!\"\n\nHis face becomes positively gleeful. \"Madam, thank you. You have proven my point admirably. Observe.\" A holographic projection of Karen appears before her. \"Is this you, today, here? Do not bother to deny it. The crowd in the background is proof enough. Listen to yourself.\"\n\nThe projection rolls forward, the volume is low enough that she can hear it, but not the crowd. Yet they can see themselves shocked at the diatribe she unleashed on the hero, only to remember how she spoke of her children. The crowd growls and shifts forward. \"HALT! Despite her language, you have no right to assault her. The courts will take appropriate action.\"\n\nShaken from her disbelief, she screeches at the hero, denying that she ever said any of that. Her children, forgotten in the crowd, cringe as once again she blames them for everything.\n\nWhen she runs down, the hero calls her children. \"Come to me. I will protect you.\" They look at each other and run to his side. \"Tell only the truth, no lies, no games, no exaggeration.\"\n\nLooking at their mother, one begins, \"We love you, but…\" and the other continues, \"you got a potty mouth…\" Together, \"that needs washing out.\" The first continues, \"only there isn't enough soap.\"\n\nThe crowd stares, until the first stifled snort, after which a torrent of laughter rolls over them. Only until Karen raises her hand to her children. The laughter stops as though cut off with a guillotine. The hero pushes the children behind him. Staring her in the eye, daring her to strike or speak one more word. She turns away, head down, and walks unsteadily away—the crowd parts before her. One hand reaches out as if to help, but the glare she stabs that offer of help with hardens the heart of everyone who had any sympathy. The crowd turns their backs.\n\nHead now high, she walks away, as if she has morally vindicated herself. The crowd looks back at the hero.\n\n\"What I said was true, and yet the language was inappropriate. I apologize to all of you and will find and apologize to the villain as soon as I have turned these children over to CPS; or their father if he is present. To the best of my knowledge, he has never raised his hand or his voice to his children. More, he has stood between them and her rage. Taking on himself the injury that the children would have suffered.\"\n\nThe villain, who quietly returned at the screaming fit of the woman, stands forth.\n\n\"What you said of me was true, however unkind it may have been said.\"\n\nStanding straight, he removes his mask, showing a face so badly bruised that the crowd recoils. The children, seeing his face, scream \"Daddy,\" and run to him. He drops to one knee, hugging them close. \"I am sorry I didn't do more.\"\n\nThe crowd is once again stunned.\n\nFrom the back, a scream of anger, and shout of warning. \"GUN!\" Karen storms forward, \"I'LL KILL YOU ALL!\" Hero and villain shield the children, standing side-by-side. A hail of bullets smash into their defense, stopped cold. Deliberately, Karen aims at her husband, who stands defiant. The round is fired. On track for his right eye, the bullet speeds to his face only to stop six inches from him, caught by the hero's hand.\n\nLooking at the villain, the hero asks, \"would you care to do the honors?\" The villain nods.\n\n\"Karen Davis-Moth, you are under arrest for attempted murder, aggravated assault, reckless endangerment, unlawful discharge of a firearm inside city limits, and child abuse. Police, please take her into custody.\"\n\nThe hero speaks quietly to the villain. \"I do apologize for my language, and although you may still spend time in jail, I will speak on your behalf. For one who will risk death to protect children, some leniency may be found.\"\n\nThey gather the children and leap into the air, headed for the courthouse.\n\n((finis))"
}
] |
653 | third_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: A band of space-pirates faces down a massive mining frigate."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "“Attention, mining frigate Kilimanjaro. I regret to inform you that your ship cargo now belongs to the glorious Fifth Fleet of Aggressive Acquisition. You will surrender your bridge immediately.” Aboard the Kilimanjaro, I listened to the transmission with a distracted air. I was busy trying to balance a dozen things, but I supposed a reply of some sort was necessary. Those Tenorbiian pirates could get awful uppity if you ignored them, and EarthForce regs demanded a policy of politeness towards the Tenorbiians, at least until you were threatened.\n\n“Pleasure to see you, Fifth Fleet. I will of course open our hangars and prepare the way for you, once the credits are transferred. Let's see...” A brief glance at another screen showed me the current commodities prices. “The current value of our cargo is currently rated at one hundred and six million credits on the Intergal Exchange, and the current value of the Kilimanjaro itself is a clean three hundred million.”\n\n“Your jokes will not save you, human. Surrender or be destroyed.” I sighed. Well, there it was. I made sure that the transmission had been recorded for the insurance people, and then I flicked a few switches.\n\n“That sounded an awful lot like a threat, Fifth Fleet. Maybe you want to reconsider that.” Might as well give them a chance, I thought. Tenorbiians weren't usually stupid enough to mess with EarthForce, but they must have seen the Kilimanjaro's lack of escorts as a weakness, instead of coming to the obvious conclusion. I took a moment to examine their craft more closely. Typical Tenorbiian pirate fleet, really. Three cruiser class ships, each about two or three hundred meters, depending on if you counted those ridiculous decorative masts. Each was dwarfed by the massive hulk of the Kilimanjaro. A dozen fighters each, buzzing around them protectively. Nothing to call the supervisor over.\n\n“Your attempts to delay are pathetic. I will crack your holds open and drag the bounty from them myself.” The channel closed, and the cruisers launched missiles. Following in their wake, the fighters moved in to attack. I sighed again. There was no negotiating with Tenorbiians, but no one would be able to say I hadn't tried.\n\nI flicked a switch, and from the opposite side of the Kilimanjaro loomed a large, kilometer long asteroid. The highly ferrous iron was gripped firmly by the Kilimanjaro's magnetic field grapplers, and it traveled in a tight orbit around the mining frigate, swinging between the pirate cruisers and their would-be target. Missiles smashed against the surface of the asteroid, along with several fighters. The rest attempted to scatter, but were painfully reminded of electromagnetism and jerked down into the field to smash upon the asteroid's surface.\n\nThe immediate threat gone, I flicked a switch, releasing the asteroid. I was about to offer the pirates one more chance to surrender, but the three remaining cruisers didn't give me a chance. Bright yellow lights illuminated their bow, and powerful beams of plasma lurched towards the Kilimanjaro. Oh well, had to give them points for persistence, I guess. The plasma impacted the thick armour of the mining ship, doing little damage. The Kilimanjaro had been designed for heavy mining within asteroid belts, and her armour reflected that. It would take a lot more concentrated fire to burn through to anywhere vulnerable.\n\nWhile they were wasting their time and energy, I locked the forward arrays onto their respective targets. Ordinarily, the mining lasers would boil away the surface of an asteroid, leaving only the desired metals. But the Tenorbiian ships weren't constructed of any particularly valuable metals, so I set them on their highest setting. The powerful lasers made short work of the pirates, boiling away metal and atmosphere with equal ease. With the last of the attackers dealt with, I filed an incident report explaining the power usage, and turned back to the screen displaying my favourite soap opera."
}
] |
543 | third_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in third person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: A psychic reads the mind of a zombie"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "Zephyr reached for the man, hesitating to touch him. \"Are you sure he's dead?\"\n\nThe pale man snapped his teeth, pushing against the snapped broomstick that James held to his forehead to keep him in place, trying to bite Zephyr.\n\n\"If he isn't dead, nothing will happen,\" James said.\n\n\"Biting my fingers off isn't nothing, James.\" Zephyr tugged at his ponytail, draped over his shoulder, centering himself with the quick yank. \"And you are so not helping.\"\n\nJames pushed the man back, digging the dull round end of the broomstick into the bloodless flesh of the man's forehead. \"Of course I'm helping. I'm holding him down.\"\n\n\"If I become a Zombie, I'm making sure I bite you first.\"\n\n\"He's not a Zombie. Zombie's are made-\"\n\n\"Shut up, James. I don't care what he is. Fine, I'm touching him.\" Zephyr poked at the man's scalp above the broomstick, tensing to spring back.\n\nWhite hot pain shot up his finger into his brain. Bright. It was too bright. The lights were blinding him. Everything around him was fuzzy shadows in the white hot blur of the light. The buzzing scream of electricity ached in his ears, chording with the rush of air rushing against his eardrums. Zephyr gasped, drowning in the thick press of the air.\n\nHe was hungry. So hungry. Not just for food, though he could feel every empty gap in his stomach like a hollow. He was hungry to stop the pain. Starving for some thought he couldn't have. He needed to devour it. He didn't know what it was but that just made it worse. And his skull was cracking from the spike drilling into his forehead. He had to stop it. He couldn't stand it. He lunged, his teeth snapping, clawing.\n\nIt only made it worse. The terrible shrieking filling his ears, making his head ring. He screamed back, and the sound rasped his throat raw like sandpaper. He hurt. He hurt so much. Destroying it filled him. He needed to rip out the lights. He needed to extinguish the shadows. He needed to stop the noise shaking like razorblades in his brain. Gagging him with the taste of metal.\n\nA slap jerked his head to the side, turning everything dark and silent for a moment.\n\n\"Jesus Christ, you fucking bit me!\"\n\nZephyr blinked the darkness and then the purple stars out of his eyes. He licked his lips, the iron taste wet on his tongue. He turned his head down, yawning to stretch his jaw, as he looked at the tall man beneath him.\n\n\"Shit. Sorry, James.\"\n\n\"Fuck sorry, get off me.\"\n\nHe pushed on James' thin chest to roll himself over onto the floor. Breathing out in relief as the pain of the experience receded. His ears twitched as he heard a limping shuffle across the carpet. \"James? Who's holding the Zombie down?\"\n\n\"Mother-\"\n\nThe dead man rasped a shriek out of his throat, lunging for them. Zephyr jerked painfully across the floor as James grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door as fast as his long legs could eat the distance. The dead man leapt for them, fingers curled like claws, teeth snapping, hungry for something it couldn't even think, needing to make it stop."
}
] |
720 | third_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You an and your best friend are immortal. Kind of. You actually reincarnate with all your memories, always within reach of each other. Ever since you realized this in Rome, the two of you've been basically joyriding through history."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "Memory. That was the problem with it all, and Anthony knew it was all going to happen again. Every time he snapped back, it was always in the middle of something. The people around him always recognized him, his name was always the same but anglicized over time, and it was always mundane.\n\nHis last body had been in a car crash later that afternoon and was mangled beyond recognition and died slowly. It's been quite a long time since he had experienced such a violent death, and there was hope that those incidents were becoming uncommon enough. He found himself in a coffee shop, sitting across from a woman in what looked like yoga pants and a t-shirt. Her hair was tied up in a bun, and she looked like she hadn't been sleeping enough lately.\n\n\"Anthony, are you alright, you look flushed all of the sudden\".\n\n\"I'm fine,\" He got up and checked for a wallet. \"Are you leaving?\"\n\n\"I've got somewhere to be\"\n\n\"Well if you didn't want to talk you could have said so\"\n\n\"I'm just not feeling well\"\n\n\"Ok well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow then. I hope you feel better\"\n\nThere were chairs outside of the shop, and he wanted to sit down and think, but he kept walking down the street to avoid offending the woman he had just met. It was hot, spring had passed and the greenery was in full effect. It was something that Anthony could never stop admiring, even if it was sparse in the cities now. There was a bench under a large tree a few blocks away that Mark and him had agreed to meet at whenever either one of them died. So he slowly made his way over, thinking about the last incarnation.\n\nAnthony had been sitting under the tree for a few hours when Mark walked by.\n\n\"Is that you?\" Mark said. \"What took you so long\"\n\n\"Even with technology its not always obvious that you've died. I brought water.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\nMark sat down, still wearing the suited business attire of decades long past. He had always been stubborn to change and would hold onto culture and style until his incarnations became walking jokes around cities. There was always a big fuss from him over this, but he would always cave to the pressure eventually.\n\n\"How was the ride this time?\"\n\n\"Ride?\"\n\n\"Yea, you went long enough to have a family this time. She was sweet that one\"\n\n\"She was, she might still be alive.\"\n\n\"What does it matter? They'll be dead soon enough. I have an idea for what we can do next\"\n\nThey sat there in silence for a moment, Anthony leaned forward and pressed his hands into his eyes. \"You ok\"\n\n\"Don't you feel sad sometimes?\"\n\n\"Don't do this again Anthony, you know there's nothing you can do. At the end of the day, you'll just wake up again. No sense in dwelling on the meaning of it. Anyways, don't you find it exhilarating? Every time you get a new choice, and you're totally free to make it unlike all of these other people.\n\nYou could start a family, learn something new, go on a murderous rampage, or you can help out the poor. Whatever you want.\"\n\n\"I just don't get any pleasure out any of it anymore\"\n\n\"You've said that for hundreds of years, and you're still here\"\n\n\"Could you kill me,\" Anthony asked.\n\n\"Really?\" Mark chuckled,\n\n\"Yea, do it.\"\n\n\"Don't be rash, lets enjoy the day? I'll get arrested and it might take a while to come back here\"\n\n\"That's alright, I'll wait. We'll do whatever you want afterward\"\n\n\"Alright then,\"\n\nMark set his water bottle down and stood up. He grabbed Anthony by the arm, and shoved him to the ground. Instinct took over, and Anthony fought against the attack but was overpowered and shoved to the ground. Mark started wailing on him as he continued to fight. Anthony screamed in agony as the assault kept coming. \"Shut up, people will come\". Mark continued to punch Anthony in the face, long after he stopped screaming until his face was unrecognizable. Even after he kept punching until a crowd formed and forced him to stop.\n\nAnthony woke up in a bed, in the arms of a woman, and cried."
}
] |
1,104 | third_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in third person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: The whole point of a glory hole is anonymity. Oh well, you certainly can’t complain with the results."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "Tags: blowjob, cumplay, possible incest.\n\nPat knew the whole point of a Glory Hole was the Anonymity. The titillating mystery of identity, never knowing quite who the person on the other side of the wall was. To be honest, that's why he used them. They scratched an itch.\n\nThe Glory Hole at the old XXX theater was like that, for sure, but it was a dump. There were a few in the public restrooms in the park, but those were worse.\n\nSo that's why Pat and a bunch of friends had created and popularized the 7th floor Hole. Cut into a wall in the half renovated and currently unused unisex bathrooms on the 7th floor of the Social Sciences Building at their college, it offered everything. Clean, discreet, and anonymous. People just showed up, and if there happened to be two people on either side, then things happened.\n\nPat had been surprised at the results, to be honest. While they'd had to wage a bit of a guerilla marketing plan at first, soon enough the rumors, vids, TikToks, and even exclusives from the university's Only Fans Creators had cemented it in the subculture. The only faculty that had a hint was the building's janitor, and since he got 'taken care of' at least three times a week at the Hole he wasn't going to say a word.\n\nToday, Pat walked up the stairs and past the unisex door which still said 'Out Of Order', and took note of the red occupied tile in the latch. There was someone there, in the room, even if no one was usually using it this time of day. Pat checked his watch; twenty minutes to his next class. He had time, and this might be his last chance for a few days. His cousin and step sister were both on campus to see the College, and for now should be occupied with the Tour. But they were staying with him, so the chances he could get away were slim.\n\nPat went down the hall, around a bend, through a door, and snuck around the edge of a half built classroom. Tucked into a corner was a piece of plywood leaning against the wall, and behind it was the Hole. About six inches in diameter and edged in the same rubber used for dumbell handles, it was a far cry from the shady Holes Pat had used before.\n\nHe could hear a voice, no, voices on the other side of the wall. Deciding to take his chances, Pat unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and placed the head of his cock on the edge of the ghole.\n\nHe heard a gasp, and a murmur of appreciation, which he enjoyed. Pat might be a five foot five skinny nerd, but he was blessed with a SCHLONG. Almost eight inches, rather thick, curved just so, it usually go that reaction when he flopped it out at the Hole. And just moments later, a delicate hand touched his cock, wrapping it in soft thin fingers. He heard giggling, again, certainly more than one source.\n\nPat didn't mind; lots of people came to the Hole without using it, or without thinking they were going to use it. A friend for encouragement wasn't uncommon, and that's assuming it wasn't a Content Creator doing a vid. Soon enough the giggles and chatter died, and he felt a tentative lick on the tip of his penis.\n\nPat checked his watch. Not really enough time to take it slowly, especially if the person wasn't skilled orally. \"Hey,\" he said, \"I appreciate it but I got places to be. So put it in your mouth and start sucking.\" A shy kid who never raised his voice, this was another way the Anonymity of the Hope helped Pat.\n\nThe hand and tongue vanished, and Pat inwardly cursed a moment, until a soft wet mouth enveloped the first third of his dick. He let out a gasp of pleasure, and the person on the other side went to work. They suck and teased, licked the head and along the base. They played with his balls and jacked his shaft.\n\nBut nothing prepared him for when he felt a second tongue, a second pair of velvety lips on his manhood. He was undone, both vixens were clearly experienced, not only at sucking cock but doing it together. There was no accidently knocking of heads, no awkward stops and starts. They were fluid and coordinated, and he was building to the point of no return.\n\n\"Here it comes,\" Pat said, following the etiquette of all oral; letting your partner know when you're close. One hand started jerking him and a pair of tongues flitted across his sensitive swollen cock head, and the dam of pleasure burst. Jet after jet of cum shot from him, and he almost fell.\n\nAs he felt the last drips leave him, Pat pulled back his hips. He heard more giggling, and the soft smacks of kissing. His cock tried to get hard again as he realized the people on the other side were kissing around mouthfuls of his cum, snowballing it and savoring it.\n\nHe almost bent down and looked in the Hole. But that would break the Anonymity of the Glory Hole, and that was unconscionable. He pulled up his pants and walked away, barely making it to class in time.\n\nAn hour later, he got a text from his cousin and his step sister.\n\n\"Hey Pat! We got done with our tour early, so we've been seeing the sites of the College! Care to join us for dinner?\"\n\nHe responded \"Sure, I'll grab take out on the way back from the Soc Building,\" and while he waited for the three orders of Thai absently checked their Social stories. There were a few of the main landmarks, others of the Tour itself.\n\nAnd a double selfie through a large window with a view of the school grounds. A window that was on the 7th floor of the Social Studies Building. A Building that was not on the tour, and didn't have any reason for a prospective student to go above the first floor.\n\nPat was still studying the picture as he waited for food, trying to calculate the time it was taken. Sure enough, it lined up within the same hiur of his rendezvous at the Hole.\n\nAs Pat entered his place, his cousin and step sis jumped and embraced him, and he knew he was not going to be able to let this question lie.\n\nOnly how in hell was he going to answer it?"
}
] |
829 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: In the seconds before you die, you are allowed to know everyone who was secretly in love with you at some point."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "“This is it,” I breathed, throwing my hands up in the darkness. “How original.”\n\n“So we have someone else who is unimpressed in his final moments before he dies,” A deep voice called out from somewhere above me.\n\n“I’m not dead?” I cocked one of my eyebrows, spinning around slowly in search for the voice.\n\n“Not yet.” The voice responded.\n\n“Then, where the hell am I?”\n\n“You are in the place that every human must visit before he, she, or they dies.” The voice answered.\n\n“So I’m about to die,” I breathed, my shoulders slumping forward. “I mean I expected as much. You can only be in the hospital for so long before they pull the plug on you. I didn’t have a single person who’d fight for me.”\n\n“That’s not true,” The voice said ominously. “And that is one of reasons why you are here.”\n\n“You, humans, never know what is right in front of you,” The voice went on. “In less than thirty seconds, you are going to see everybody who never confessed their feelings of love for you.”\n\n“But why?” I asked, both my eyebrows shooting up. “What purpose will that have?”\n\n“Because after you die, you will be going back to earth. These faces and your experiences will press into your subconscious as you are born again. You are to make better decisions. You are to display growth. If you cannot, you will cease to exist.”\n\n“What?” I shouted.\n\n“The faces will appear in the darkness in…5….4…3…2….1” The voice announced.\n\nAnd like a huge power point or a drive-in movie theater, a young girl flashed in the sky with pigtails.\n\n“Annabeth,” I breathed, my hand reaching out toward the photo. “We grew up with each other.”\n\nThe picture changed, showing the same girl as a woman with a short blonde hair. A teenage girl with a pimply face and freckles appeared in her place.\n\n“Lana?” I asked, my mouth falling open. “I had no idea. She sat at lunch by herself. I used to help out whenever I could.”\n\nI blinked and her face aged into that of an older woman with a lot of grey.\n\n“She aged beautifully,” I whispered. “I could have grown old with her. I would have loved that. But…Wait a minute, why didn’t I see Annabeth age? Did she die years ago?”\n\nSilence as another picture appeared in the darkness. A man with bushy eyebrows and a round chin appeared. My old college roommate.\n\n“Aaron?” I crossed my arms flabbergasted and angry. “But he had all the women! Like all the women! He even took my crush away from me! Are you kidding me?”\n\nI breathed, rubbing my arms. “Fine—I guess he dated everyone I liked because of how he felt, but why didn’t he just tell me? Damn.”\n\nHis picture did not change, remaining the same. I stared, waiting for something.\n\n“Oh no,” I muttered. “Did he die after college?”\n\n“He did,” The voice answered solemnly. “Suicide.”\n\nI winced, glancing down at the ground.\n\n“There are two more to see,” The voice said quickly. “You must look back up. There is not much time left. You will regain awareness back in your body, and then, you will die.”\n\nAn older co-worker appeared. Natalie. A lady with a head full of white hair.\n\n“Is this joke? She was married! Over thirty years! She flirted with everyone in the office! She wasn’t serious.” I laughed, shaking my head. “If you are trying to convince me that she was secretly in love with me, try again!”\n\n“Natalie is a special case,” The voice admitted. “She suffered far more than any of you or her family ever knew. Her marriage was hell.”\n\nNow, I was the one quiet as I stared at her face and her laugh lines.\n\n“We all loved her in the office.” I spoke quietly.\n\nA new face flashed, replacing Natalie. I swallowed. The biggest punch to the gut.\n\nDeep startling brown eyes hidden behind brown frames, a button nose, and small lips.\n\n“Eliza?” I breathed, clutching at my heart. “But I loved her. I loved her my entire life. I watched her die, never telling her because…because I was scared.”\n\nI cradled my arms against my chest. “Why didn’t I ever tell her? She was married! I couldn’t tell her.”\n\n“You should have,” The voice said. “Though married, she died alone, and now, you are to die alone.”\n\nI touched the corner of my eye-- warm tears on my face. I shut my eyes.\n\n“You must regain yourself. You are about to return back to your body. When you go back to earth again, learn.” The voice said with finality. “Good luck.”\n\nI opened my eyes in the white room. Surrounded my strangers, doctors and nurses. I jerked against my will. My last thoughts of Eliza, the only woman I ever loved. The woman I lost without ever knowing.\n\nThe machines beeped in one steady sound.\n\nAnd then, nothing."
}
] |
852 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: You are the only normal person in a family of superheroes, the 'Black Sheep' if you will; tell us the story of your everyday life."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "Ever since I was could remember, I was told I was going to do fantastic things. Things that would make the world spin their heads upwards for justice and pride. My Ma’ told me when I was younger that I’d grow into my superpowers, and considering how my mom and dad are, it was obvious I had a huge pool of powers to grab from. My father was gifted with many abilities to manipulate energy of all kinds, as well as control the air around him for flight. My mother was able to control various elements. Rock, water, fire, things that she saw on a different scale than everyone else. My older sister was gifted with the ability to manipulate her own matter, increasing her size and strength at will to a specific limit.\n\nAnd here was I, being seventeen, with not a single gift.\n\nNothing, no ability what so ever. No powers, to special talent, no increased intelligence or common skills. Hell, not even over-the-top social skills. Yet, my family always told me that I would grow into it! My sister got her powers when she was twelve, but my mother and father got them during specific points that they never wanted to share for me.\n\nSo one can kinda’ see how I am well out of the loop for more situations… a lot of times I was looked down upon, not by a factor of being 'ungifted', but simply BECAUSE I was normal. My life with my friends was different, my relationship with my family was different, and I felt like the whole world looked at us, but always forgot about me. When headlines were made, my family was plastered there in their stupid getups, while I was at home watching the news and staring at Energized, my father’s hilariously bad name, talk about how it was what they did. Justice and freedom, for everyone.\n\nToday, however, fate had a different plan for me.\n\nIn the middle of dinner, while we were talking about our days, picking at the food, the T.V that was kept on in the background shifted, and Channel 6 breaking news came on. It seemed there was a robbery happening downtown, and a big one at that. Massive trucks, a huge firefight. It was horrible. I stared over from the screen as my family kept their eyes glued, before shifting their gaze to one another, nodding, and pushing up. My sister ran upstairs, my father moved to the door, and my mother went and kissed my forehead, before manipulating the wooden chairs to scoot in. “We’ll be back, baby.” She said, before I heard the doors slam; alone again, because my family had to go save the day again. I frowned and watched, staring at the screen as my sister stomped from the side-street at her massive size, my father zipping through the air like electricity, and my mother coming from the ground like some sort of fantastic, living piece of sediment. They took care of the crooks, grabbing them, tying them up, and binding most of the robbers up as the onlookers cheered and the cops assisted…\n\n… Before a massive explosion overcame the camera, and a sickly yellow dust filled the T.V screen. I gasped, and shoved myself off the table to rush over, staring as the smoke cleared… with my family, lying in a pile of rubble of the bank. My sister… was normal sized… my father was paralyzed, and my mother, trying to stand and raise the rock to cover them… wasn’t covering herself. The camera shifted, and the face of a madman filled the camera as he spoke. “Looks like the Super Family isn’t all that super smart…” he remarked horribly. “I think I’ll be taking them now, see what makes them tick and work…” He grinned, and dropped the camera as it hissed into that television fuzz.\n\nTears filled my eyes, fear welled in my heart. What do I do, what COULD I do? I’m a failure that was going to watch my family get simply taken away… but on cue, my cell phone rang.\n\nI hesitantly grabbed it, and stared down at the ‘UNKNOWN’ number, sniffling and gathering my composure, before clicking the answer button.\n\n“Ron?” A harsh female voice spoke.\n\n“Hello…?” I said through my cracking voice.\n\n“Listen to me very carefully. In a few moments, a van will be pulling up to your house. Get in it.” The mysterious voice commanded.\n\n“W… Wha-“\n\n“Your family is in danger, and so are you. A madman has plans of taking their powers for his own.”\n\n“N-… No…” I whimpered quickly, my breath growing still.\n\n“Unless…” She said throughout my hesitance.\n\n“UNLESS WHAT?!” I screamed in return; anger and fear retching my heart.\n\n“Unless you help us…” She finished.\n\nI blinked, and held the phone down slightly to look at it, my stare going blank as I clenched my free-hand into a fist.\n\nToday is the day that I become the hero… today is the day that I save my family, the city, and the world; without any genetic cheats."
}
] |
557 | ambiguous | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write around 500-600 words. Prompt: The kraken considered humans a minor annoyance and mostly left them alone, until the frequent sinking ships in the world wars became a safety hazard."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "Ours is a small community, less than a hundred or so, and yet it still takes months to assemble everyone. It is the traditional meeting place, the deepest, darkest cavern across our home. It is a private, a cold place, typically used to resolve petty conflicts between ourselves, today is different...\n\n\"Fellows, fellows,\" I call out, my bioluminescent patches flashing the appropriate signals in our way.\n\nEventually, the several side conversations die down, their lights and colors hushed, muted, dark.\n\n\"...Thank you for making the trip here. I know some of you have traveled far.\"\n\n\"And we want to get back! Hurry it up!\" The voice had come from Eklsjfoisdjf, a crotchety old hermit that claimed the Northern pack ice for a home. He'd been fending a few of the young ones off from setting up shop there for 300 years or so.\n\nThe laughter, chatter, and agreement eventually died down.\n\n\"Yes, fine. The matter is the humans. Their conflict has been disturbing things for some members of our community for a few years now. I suggest intervention.\"\n\nA chorus of light and color echoes across the meeting space. Arguments, agreements, one or two names are called.\n\nIt is Kdosfidjfls who finally speaks above the crowd. \"Exactly how have they disturbed things for you, Usiudhfa? They haven't disturbed me. Oh, their sonar disturbs the whales. They're pollutants disturb the fish. I, however, am made of sturdier stuff. What about you?\"\n\nThe darkness, the silence of the crowd is deafening.\n\n\"...Well,\" I start, then stop. I'm not embarrassed, just apprehensive. I know how they'll react. How some of them will react. Steeling myself, I say, \"Well, some of you know that I have cultivated a garden of lampreys. Now, I've been a lamprey breeder for may 800 years now, and I take the matter seriously-\"\n\nI was interrupted by a few dim laughs and chuckles.\n\n...I waited for it to die down. \"Well, a few months ago, one of their ships that they'd destroyed landed near one of my gardens! It didn't explode or anything, but it had landed in my garden my lampreys would have been crushed. I-\"\n\nThe assemblage erupts into laughter.\n\nI grow dark and silent, taking comfort only in the few of my kin who are silent or offer lights of comfort. At least a few of us have taste.\n\nThe ruckus lasts for some time until it is split and silenced.\n\n\"One of their bombs exploded near my clutch.\"\n\nThe darkness of our meeting is total and lasting.\n\nThe voice, the light and color had come from Zawwernjk.\n\nTo my mind, this is the first time I can recall her speaking at one of our meetings.\n\nThe darkness, the silence continues as our host contemplates the destruction of a clutch of eggs.\n\nIt is Eklsjfoisdjf, the hermit, who finally breaks it. \"To war then?\"\n\nMore silence. \"If we just attack all of them, that won't fix anything. We'll just have open war with humans.\"\n\n\"What if we picked a side?\"\n\n\"How do we choose?\"\n\n\"Well-\"\n\nOur meeting lasted the month, slowly, one by one, and then in larger groups, the krakens slipped away, back home, or on to their missions. We would learn about the humans. We would choose our side. We would end their petty conflict and once more secure our home."
}
] |
700 | third_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: While learning to speak, a 9 month old toddler accidentally summons a demon in a forgotten language to do his bidding."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "The almighty, unspeakable demon of no name had been waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Millennia passed by, leaving No Names' madness to grow, his hatred to seed yet more hatred, writhing, choking in his imprisonment in the dark. Whilst mankind had lost its power, weak and wretched as it was, at least they were free on the surface. Here, the demon was unable to do anything more than sweetly contemplate, the great, foul things it would wreak upon the Earth, should it ever be freed.\n\nNo Name did not know how long it had been trapped, when it felt a rumble, a shaking in the darkness around it. The earth shifted, and No Name stirred. A great ringing filled No Names' skull, a white light slicing through the blackness, and in desperate anticipation, No Name cried out. It knew what this meant.\n\nScratching at the dirt around it, screaming, No Name roared with joy and hate as it pushed through the earth around it, weighing heavy upon it, bloody finger nails hanging loose from its fingers, bursting through the surface.\n\nSuddenly, silence. Everything was dark and still, and the air felt close and warm around it. For a few moments, No Name stood still, breathing slowly, as it came to understand what had truly happened. It was free. No Name felt its body shake with pleasure, felt its wings tremble and twitch as they opened for the first time in thousands of years. A great hunger rattled the pit of its stomach. Soon, soon it would feed.\n\nThere were soft things hanging all around No Name, soft, cloth things, and it reached out a steady hand to push at the solid mass in front of it, and found it to be wood. Slowly, carefully, savouring every movement after having been bound for so long, it pushed on the mass, which creaked and swang open before it, filling the hole from which it crawled from with soft sunlight.\n\nIt slowly stepped forward, legs weakened but feeling stronger than it had ever done. And there, there before it, sat its Master. A small, fleshy child.\n\nThe boy faced away from it, sat on a colourful piece of fabric, swaying back and forth as he burbled.\n\nNo Name took a deep breath, contemplating its strange, box like surroundings. Everything was wood, but wood that had been stretched and warped beyond its natural state, unrecognisable beyond the knots in the floor. There were strange shapes, metallic objects, and soft bodies strewn at the edge of what it assumed to be a room. This new world was strange and wonderful. No Name could barely wait to rip every little thing apart and explore its cogs and workings.\n\nStepping forward, No Name reached out and bent at one knee, showing due respect for its saviour, its master.\n\n'Master, your will is my pleasure. I am yours to command.' No Name's voice, speaking an ancient language, reverberated around the room like a deep screech.\n\nThe boy, slack jawed, glanced back over his shoulder, and saw the demon prostrate at his side. Eyes widening, the child slowly shifted around on the spot to take a proper look. He craned his neck back to see the whole demon at once. Slowly, the boy's chubby cheeks erupted into a grin. He used his chubby arms and rolled forward, pushing himself upright to stare at the demon more closely.\n\nAt once, No Name realised what he was dealing with. Joy flooded through him.\n\n'Old friend...'\n\nAs small as his vessel was, like No Name, its Master had been trapped, trapped in this ludicrous prison of weak, living meat, without its strength and power. A curse, no doubt. But it was unmistakeable; just below the skin, below the exterior of a child, there it was - an ancient power, seething, pulsing.\n\nThe demons smiled at one another, and speaking with no words, greeted each other in the old tongue. No Name stood up to its full height, head scraping the ceiling. Baring its teeth, and uncurling its hands, revealing talons ready to rip and gouge, No Name nodded at the smiling toddler before it.\n\n'Old friend...now it is my turn to free you.'"
}
] |
654 | third_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in third person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Last year, the Assassin Association (AA) awarded you the prize for best assassin. Being stingy, they want the prize back to award to the next person. You're not willing to give it back."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "“They're coming for me aren't they?” the quiet voice had the quality of an echo, like words said somewhere else that had finally found their way out.\n\nIt was unsettling at first, but now, now he could feel his skin burning if he went more than a few hours without it. He assumed it was affection at first, before the physical effects took hold. Addiction, plain and simple. He breathed deep, as he always did before giving his reply. “Yes.”\n\nShe began shaking; her eyes were pleading for mercy. How many times had he seen that look? His eyes traced the scars on her neck. The gray skin had felt his blade so many times. That first night he made it quick, barely a flash before the inevitable black. Four and a half seconds and she'd lost the fight to a fatal sleep. There was panic in her, the same as any in the end, but then, as they said would happen, she woke up in the morning with fresh scar tissue.\n\n“Can you stop them...please?”\n\nThat same haunting echo. He could feel it in some primal part of him; it was wrong to take comfort in it. With practiced eased his pushed the inconvenient thought from his mind. He filled his lungs. “I will meet them as a brother, as they would do the same.”\n\nHe had always prided himself in never telling lies. He found it unseemly, but all manner of sins can be covered over with a carefully placed truth. This was something he had grown quiet adept at doing. That fact made it all the more unsettling that she had never failed to see past his words as if he'd given no effort to deceit.\n\nShe didn't sob, or breakdown in any way. Only a single tear let him know she knew his meaning and their fates. It wouldn't be long now; they'd come with the darkness. If these were to be his final moments then he decided he should at least be as human as he remembered how to be. “Surely you're glad to be rid of me. After all I've done to you. So many times, no one could forgive that.” The words conjured the blood drenched memory of it.\n\nHe could feel the guilt in it and knew he could never find escape. The echo reached out to him “You were able to stop. Of all the others, only you were able to stop. The rest...they were barely more than monsters in the end. That is what is to become of me when you are no longer by my side.”\n\nHe took several long breaths to take in her meaning. “You aren't the normal prize for 'Best Assassin' are you?”\n\n“From what I've come to understand, I am given to those who've lost themselves to killing and so pose a threat to the association.” The echo had no malice in it, seeming to speaking more of objective fact than of the reality of her existence.\n\nHe began to wonder how many times she had been killed, what torments she'd endured, and what hells awaited her in the future. How old was she? It seemed impossible to tell and despite his curiosity he hadn't been able to find the will to ask. The sun had nearly set; they would be on him in moments expecting him to be armed to the teeth, but he had put away his weapons for good nine months ago. He would not allow them to force his hand anymore. With that realization he felt a warmth spread through him, and he instinctively looked to her.\n\n“Could I have your name?” His tongue managed the words even as he felt it swell in his mouth.\n\nShe smiled him for the first time since he'd known her. “You've always known it.” He thought for a second that her words sounded so much closer than before."
}
] |
568 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: A gas giant in an unnamed Solar System has 3 moons, each of them contain intelligent life. Write a story on how these 3 civilizations differ, how they react when they discover life exists on the other moons, and how they interact with each-other as they all grow more advanced."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "We found the others. Have you ever had that feeling where you buy something, discover somewhere, or find someone and from that moment on it is a part of you? Like it was always attached to you. It's not new, just newly noticed. That's how we felt.\n\nI wish we hadn’t\n\nIt is amazing what a civilization can accomplish when they have the motivation. It only took a single generation. We traveled the technological distance from telescopes to spacecraft. We rushed headlong, devoting our society to this singular purpose. A species-wide obsession. Our eagerness was not a cautious thing. Careening forward we sacrificed the lives of many intrepid souls in our quest.\n\nI wish we hadn't.\n\nWe went to the inner moon first. Whipping around the center planet with twice the velocity of our home this speedy satellite sported sensational beauty. We knew there was intelligent life there because the entire planet looked like a giant work of art. Perfect curls of green connected to wiggling lines of red in an unnatural fractal. They shamed our chaos with their symmetry. We could not wait to meet the minds behind the beauty. We got there on our third try.\n\nI wish we hadn’t.\n\nWhere we expected harmony we discovered only discord. As our landers marred the symmetry of the land with their uninvited intrusion, the world was quiet. This lasted for a single moment. The ground erupted around our alien invasion and we watched horrified as millions of tiny winged creatures in a myriad of colors ripped our people to shreds and used their bodies to deepen the fractal pattern. Their blood made for a powerful red dye. The cameras swiftly winked out of existence and the signals stopped. Our sadness led to desperation. We had to believe that the universe was not so cruel, so apathetic, so alien. We launched our attempt to reach the second moon within hours.\n\nI wish we hadn’t.\n\nWe made it to the second inhabited moon. It lazily orbited the Center Planet at twice the distance and a quarter of the speed of our home moon. From our telescopic viewpoint we had seen a moon which sported sparkling cities and ceaseless industry. Surely, we thought, these are a people with whom we could communicate. They will understand us, embrace us. The landing craft entered the atmosphere and landed a short distance from one of the largest cities. We held our breath as one of the locals approached us. It dropped a small device and walked away. We moved towards it.\n\nI wish we hadn’t.\n\nWith the ceaseless optimism and the burden of a generation resting on this moment we approached the device. To our amazement it began to speak in our very own language. “Hi. We see that you have finally discovered us. Go away now. We have observed you and found you lacking. You are a stupid civilization. Your culture is weak, your ideals are idiotic. If you ever try to contact us again we will destroy your moon without hesitation. We have known about you for eons. We decided long ago you were worthless.” You could almost hear our collective will break. With that pithy message they sealed our doom. We lost our will to act. We stopped reproducing. The generation of space was the final generation. We traveled into the stars and found our own futility.\n\nI wish we hadn’t."
}
] |
604 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You're the janitor for the biggest superhero foundation ever known, but one day, when all of the heroes are gone, a villain appears. what they don't know is that you are the most powerful superhero there, and the only reason you aren't put on missions is because you are TOO powerful."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "(content warning: this story is a bit dark, as it depicts the detailed POV of a person being attacked, be aware.)\n\nIt was Christmas, everyone had gone home for the holidays, even the guards.\n\nAfter all, there were no weapons here, no guns, no super suits, only paperwork. Even though this building belonged to the hero's association, it was a simply an office. Anything vaguely important would be stored in other locations, or backed up on servers. A simple place for heroes to come and fill out paperwork if needed.\n\nSo why was I here? I liked it, the tile floors, the smell of cleaning chemicals, even if it's just moping the floors. I may not be a hero, but someone has to the job, and this way I could help, even if only a little.\n\nAn empty building full of useless papers, and me. No reason for anyone to target here, then again, villains are not the most reasonable of people.\n\nI found him in a hallway, my mop in hand. A thin man in a trench coat. I called out to him, \"Hey, were closed, it's Christmas, come back tomor....\". He turned to look at me. His piercing red eyes caught me off guard.\n\nIt only took a second, before I knew it, he was in front of me. I fell, no, I was pushed back against the wall. I felt this... sinking pressure around my neck. Pain. I could feel his fingers wrapping around my throat.\n\nI felt the urge to cough. Reaching up I begin grabbing, pulling, at the hands, desperately trying to re-leave the pressure. Those piercing eyes staring at mine, observing me. My heart beats fast.\n\nI desperately claw and scrape at the hands, they hold firm, unmoving. I can feel the Adrenalin building higher and higher. A sneer twists across the man face.\n\nIs this how it ends? The grip tightens. Why me? Why here? Why now? A snicker invades my ears. My heart is beating so fast it feels like it will tear a hole in my chest. What about John from accounting, we were supposed to go bowling. What about Jennifer, who always smiles at me from behind her book?\n\nMy lungs burn with intensity. My arms no longer attempt to claw at the hands, they feel heavy like lead. A toothy grin is stretched eternally thin below those red eyes. My muscles burn, My vision blurs.\n\nI don't want to die, I don't want to say goodbye, I DON'T WANT TO DIE. Like lifting the heaviest weight I ever have, my hand shoots forward and touches the man's face. His hands release, and his body crumples to the floor. I slide against the wall onto my hands and knees gasping, coughing, desperately breathing the sweetest air I have ever felt. I stayed there, for a long moment, the cool sensation wicking away the burning from my chest.\n\nMy shaking arms push me up as I sit against the wall, unable to believe what's just happened. I see the body, Still writhing, the arms and legs contorting. The skin growing thinner, tauter, wrapping around the man like a skeleton, until it becomes hard and begins to crack, splitting open.\n\nTears begin to well in my eyes, I look at the body as it begins to fall apart. \"i'm sorry\", but a breathy whisper, \"i did not want ...\", \"i did not mean to\", \"i- i'm sorry\". The man is long gone by now.\n\nThere is no place for an inescapable death in a world of heroes, no man deserves such a fate.\n\nMy throat burns."
}
] |
704 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: On January 25th, 2014 you gave yourself a deadline of one year before you killed yourself. It is now nearing midnight January 25th, 2015."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "Is it a New Year's resolution if it's made 25 days after the fact?\n\nYou're weren't sure then and you're not sure now. With violently trembling hands and eyes blurred by tears, the vow you scribbled onto a hastily torn piece of paper is almost illegible. Though you don't need to read it to know what it says.\n\nYour butt is growing numb and the car is starting to grow cold, but you don't move from your seat. Fiddling with the paper, you glance at the clock - 11:15 PM. Only 45 more minutes. Would you turn the car on now and hope the fumes knock you out by midnight? Or wait until 12:00 appears in neon blue?\n\nLifting your head, you glance at your roommate's car, which just so happens to be parked across from yours. You hope she wouldn't be the one to find you. Even as much as she irritates you, you'd never wish that on anyone.\n\n11:20. How have only three minutes passed? The last 364 days have all but flown by, but now it's down to the wire and time is dragging. Of course.\n\nWith a sigh, your head falls back and you stare blankly out the windshield. It's been a long day and your back aches. You think of your bed and the warm comforter and it's not until you're jerking awake that you realize you started falling asleep.\n\n11:23 PM. Turning the radio up, it's a song you hate, but you're not necessarily listening for enjoyment.\n\n'Just gotta stay awake until 12,' you think. But then you wonder - why? You've already made your decision, so what's 35 more minutes?\n\nWith a sigh, you reach for the keys still sitting in the ignition and your fingers close around them briefly before dropping back into your lap. One year is one year, and you owe yourself at least that.\n\n11:28. Whoever is playing their stereo that loudly needs to stop.\n\n11:29. It's cold.\n\n11:30. Your roommate just texted you that her boyfriend is coming over for a few. Great. Hopefully he doesn't see you. Well, at least she actually texted you for once.\n\nHalf an hour left, you realize, and you're starting to really think you can't wait any longer. Patience has never been your strong suit. With an aggravated sigh, you reach for the keys once again.\n\nPulling them from the ignition, you loop your arm through your bag and reach for the door handle. You parked a little too close to the metal support beam, so it's a bit of a squeeze, but you'll live. No pun intended. After all, you decided more than three months ago that a little piece of paper didn't mean anything. Life is nothing now like it was then and honestly, you can't even one hundred percent remember why you made that oath. Passing by the dumpsters, you toss the now balled-up little \"promise\" in and it's only a few yards until you reach your front door. You deposit your bag on the couch, actually dropping your keys inside it this time instead of leaving them somewhere random and having to hunt for them in the morning. A glance at your phone tells you it's 11:40. Shedding the day's work clothes, you toss them into the pile of dirty clothes on your bedroom floor because even though you own a hamper, it's full of clean clothes and has been for the past week.\n\nPajamas on, you shut the closet door before hitting the lights and crawling into bed. Your phone buzzes as you connect it to the charger and you open the Snapchat of - what else - a cat. 11:45 PM. Just fifteen more minutes, you think, closing out all of your apps. Geez, 21? No wonder your phone was at 8%.\n\nClicking the lock button, you set the phone on the night stand before reaching for the sheets pooled at the end of the bed. Mmm, toasty. And yeah, you definitely forgot to brush your teeth, but you're way too comfortable to care right now.\n\nYou hazard to guess it's about 11:50 and you have to be up at 8:30, so if you were to fall asleep right now..."
}
] |
776 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You're an \"assassin\". You've never actually killed anyone, but you are very charismatic, and actually convinced your \"victims\" to fake their death and leave the country."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "“Touch that switch and I pull the trigger.” I softly said as I pulled the slide back on my gun.\n\nAustin froze unable to take his hand off the switch and afraid to accidentally turn it on.\n\n“Wh..who are you?” his voice said trembling\n\n“Who I am is not important. Why I’m here is. You sir are obviously not a good person, otherwise I wouldn’t be here. I’ve been hired to kill you.”\n\n“What are you talking about I’m an upstand”\n\n“Shut up, I don’t need to hear your bullshit. I know who you are, what you’ve done behind closed doors. What you’ve done with to your wife. I even know about your business trip to Thailand and your many adventures there. So don’t bore me with your upstanding citizen, deacon of the church, great father crap. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t do my due diligence in this matter. And even though you are the scum of this earth. I willing to cut a deal.”\n\nEven in the dark I could see the terror in his eyes. Replaying the nights he cheated on his wife while she was getting cancer treatment. The doctor visit after his “business” trip to Thailand where he found out he caught something there. And I’m sure he was trying to figure out who it was that wanted him dead.\n\n“Whatever the amount I’ll pay it. I’ve got money hidden in multiple bank accounts. Name your price.”\n\n“Now let’s s take a step back real quick. 2 seconds ago you were trying to tell me that you were a good person. Now your willing to pay for your life. It always amazes me how quickly some people turn into their true selves when I show up. You did it faster than most. But what I want comes in 2 parts. Number one, there is a computer on the table next to you. Open it slowly and transfer all the money from your accounts to mine.”\n\nSlowly he opened the laptop. The keys echoed loudly in the quiet, dark room. I watched as all the money was transferred.\n\n“Done” he barked “Now what?\n\n“If you didn’t noticed I left one account open for you, the one you tell your wife is the only spending money you have. $5193.67 is still in there. That is yours if you make the next correct decision.”\n\n“Whatever it is, fine.” His voice getting more impatient “I just want this over with so you can get out of my house before my wife and kids get home.”\n\n“Well since you said that, I’m not going anywhere, you are. Here’s the second part. Take the money I’ve left you and leave. Find somewhere new and start over. I’ll make it look like you died and you never come back.”\n\n“If you think you can make me leave my wife, you’re insane. I’m not going anywhere.”\n\n“Let’s think about this logically for a second. I’m giving you a chance to start over. For you to repent for your sins against your family and community. You will leave here and can be a better person. Find a new partner that you don’t have to pretend with. Start a life that is free of guilt, free of lies, free of the person you were 5 minutes ago. You can be the person you always wanted to be. Or I can put a bullet in your head and make it look like you did?” I grinned a little as I waved the gun gently in the moonlight of the window behind me.\n\n“You can’t be serious, my wife and kids won’t be able to survive without me.”\n\n“They will be better off, I’m sure you know that.”\n\nYears of being a therapist helped me explain to him the pain he had put his family through. How the lies he told were killing him inside. Why not only his family but He would be better from this day forth.\n\nAs the realization set in, he began to cry. He dropped to his knees holding his head in his hands.\n\n“I’ll go.” He gently cried out\n\nI began to lay out his next steps. How he would get out of the country, what to take, and where he should start. I gave him the envelope with his new identity. And sent him on his way.\n\nI watched from the window as he drove away.\n\n“You can come out now.” I yelled upstairs\n\n“Is it really over?” She asked slowly coming down the stairs.\n\n“Yes, this is our life now.” I turned dropping the toy gun to the floor and embracing my future wife"
}
] |
1,441 | third_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in third person and around 1400-1500 words. Prompt: Haunted House TV hosts have to edit out most of their content before it airs. This is because most ghosts are incredibly horny. You almost wish you could find a ghost who didn't want to fuck every cast and crewmember, just once."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "Standing in front of the door to the abandoned haunted house the presenter, Melissa, is making sure her white shirt is tucked in to her shirt black skirt. Lifting her nylon covers legs she brushed some dirt off her pink heels, the pink matches her underwear but that important for later.\n\nMelissa, now ready, waits for the camera man to give her the go. The camera man begins to count down from three.\n\n3... 2... 1...\n\n“Hello and welcome to an exclusive episode of Haunted Hunters, I’m your host Melissa and today’s episode is a behind the scenes.” Melissa begins to explain playing with her skirt.\n\n“Now people don’t know this but ghost are normal very horny as they don’t often get that release so when hunting we wear chastity belts to stop the ghosts doing to much.” Melissa continues to explain lifting up her skirt to reveal the belt.\n\nMelissa takes a key out the pocket on her shirt and unlock the belt, letting it hit the ground.\n\n“Well today we’re letting the ghost have full access.” Melissa explains.\n\n“Let’s go inside.” Melissa then said as she turned around and opens the door.\n\nWalking into the house the floor squeaked as her heels pushed down on the old wood. She confused to walk through the house trying to find the a sign of a ghost.\n\n“Why don’t we try the bed room.” Melissa said looking into the camera with a smile.\n\nClimbing the old stairs she walks towards the master bed room, as she open the door slowly and walked in. It was only a couple of steps before Melissa put her foot in some ghost residue. Moving the camera in closer to show her heel almost covered in the goo.\n\n“We do have a ghost and this looks like some slime left from its foot print.” Melissa explained and the camera man got a good look at her heel.\n\nMelissa moves her foot around in the goo to give a good show but as she try’s to move she finds her foot is stuck in the goo.\n\n“Oww this is sticker then normal, I think my heel is stuck.” Melissa said trying to provide a description on what’s happening.\n\nMelissa slips her nylon foot out her heel slowly and puts it on the floor away from the goo.\n\n“I guess I’ll continue with our heels on.” Melissa said with a little giggle.\n\nMelissa begins to walk around the room look at the old furniture, she is very interested in the bed and looking directly into the camera she climbs on to it. Melissa decides to lie down on the bed and spread her arms and legs out.\n\n“Will the ghost take the bait?” Melissa asked still looking into the camera.\n\nMelissa waited and soon she could feels very slimy rope around her ankles and wrists, the camera man moved in to get a better look, it was the same goo as what was on her heels.\n\nHearing a noise behind him the camera man turns around to reveal a black figure standing in the corner of the room. It begins to walk towards the camera man but the figure knows he’s wearing a chastity device and can’t do anything, it relies Melissa isn’t wearing one and turns it’s attention to her. Walking over to the bed it grows a large and hard cock. Melissa wasn’t expecting this to happen and began to struggle on the bed but it was no good, the slime rope was around her tight and wasn’t coming lose anytime soon. As it got closer it was very interested in Melissas nylon feet and began to rub them. As the camera man got a better look the figures hand grew claws and it begins to tickle Melissas feet. Melissa was incredibly ticklish and hated her feet being tickled.\n\n“Please stop.” Melissa was able to get out between gasping for air and laughing but the figure didn’t stop.\n\nMelissa endures around twenty minutes of tickle torture and the camera man got plenty of shots of her feet being tickled by the figure and a couple of her laughing face.\n\nThe figure stoped and disappeared and the ropes disappeared too. Climbing off the bed Melissa looks into the camera.\n\n“Let’s keep looking, it may return.” Melissa said with a smile.\n\nStanding up she walked over to her heel, which are now clean, slipping her feet back into the heels she left the master bed room and back into the hall way.\n\n“Where next?” Melissa asked the camera.\n\nMelissa continues to walk down the hall way towards a spear room, opening the door the figure is waiting for her.\n\n“As you can see the ghost is now waiting for us, let’s see what it might do.” Melissa said and as she finished her clothes vanished except her heels.\n\nIt took Melissa a couple of seconds to realise and quickly covers her self.\n\n“Oww it’s has stolen my clothes and I’m naked, my camera man has been told to not stop recording no matter what.” Melissa said trying her best to keep herself covered but the figure had other ideas.\n\nThe figure walked towards Melissa and grabbed her hands, putting them behind her back he tied them together at the wrist forcing her to expose herself.\n\n“This is humiliating, first tickling me now this.” Melissa said a little annoyed with the ghost.\n\nThe ghost walks out of the room leaving Melissa alone with the camera man.\n\n“We should follow.” Melissa said as she began to walk towards the door.\n\nFlowing the ghost out the room and down the hall way towards what looked like a bath room. As Melissa got closer to the door her hands where released and her clothes returned to her. Opening the door the ghost is tied to the shower curtain rail with its cock sticking straight towards Melissa.\n\n“It seams the ghost is gonna let me play with it.” Melissa said to the camera walking closer to the ghost.\n\nMelissa slowly walked over to the ghost putting her hand on its hard cock, slowly stroking it back and forth as if she was teasing it as punishment for what it did to her.\n\n“Do you want to see a ghost cum?” Melissa asked the camera.\n\nAs Melissa began to stroke the ghosts cock faster and faster, she continued to stroke its cock until it looked like the ghost was about to cum, she stoped.\n\n“I think I’ll edge it for a bit as composition for what it did to me.” Melissa said to the camera with a smile.\n\nMelissa didn’t continue to stroke its cock but knelt down with her face in front of its cock.\n\n“Do you want to cum on my face.” Melissa asked the ghost.\n\nGreen cum began ozzing out the tip of the ghosts cock and Melissa smiled, putting her finger on its cock she slowly rubbed its head with her finger, she was planing to ruin it orgasm. But just before the ghost could cum it vanished leaving Melissa confused.\n\n“What, where’s it’s gone?” She asked in shocked confusion.\n\nStanding up Melissa leaves the bath room quickly trying to find the ghost, rushing back down the stairs she finds it in the kitchen standing by the table. Melissa slowly walks over and stands in front of it. The ghost grabs her, turning around and holding her against the table. Rope begin to wrap around her ankles and her legs are pulled apart. The ghost lifts her skirt and pulls her panties down. Melissa watches as the ghost slides it’s cock into her and begins to slide it in and out getting faster and faster. The camera man just watch and trying to get the best shots possible.\n\nMelissa was enjoying the fucking she was getting and could feel her first orgasm building but the ghost stoped leaving her almost on the edge.\n\n“Please, let me cum.” Melissa begged almost with out thinking.\n\nThe ghost removed her top and bra along with her skirt and began to slide its cock back in and out of her now sensitive pussy. Melissa let out her orgasm and the ghost continued to fuck her.\n\nMelissa has four more orgasms before the ghost pulled out of her, rubbing it’s cock it shot a massive load or green cum all over her body. Almost covering her.\n\nThe ghost vanished again but soon reappeared with Melissa chastity belt in hand, locking it back on her body it vanished again holding her only key.\n\n“I think I’m now it’s sex slave.” Melissa said shocked and a little scared."
}
] |
703 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You are a villain capable of seeing the future of your actions, but instead of directly causing things to happen, you use the butterfly effect to advance your goals."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "Even now, after I had been defeated, my enemy was beyond cautious. The superpowered, ultra-fast woman dubbed Laser circled around me. She needn't worry, my wounds were absolutely fatal. Getting punched and kicked by her had been one of the worst experiences of my life. Bones weren't just broken but completely shattered. Internal bleeding was pooling in my abdomen, thighs and... it didn't matter now.\n\n\"You know\", she said, \"I could not imagine a more fearsome enemy than you, Mr. Butterfly.\" She seemed more confident now, as my body was taking its final gasps. \"The ability to choose a future based on your own actions, and to impact the future of all with such innocent actions that you drew no attention.\" I managed to draw a breath, but damn it all my ribs made me weep in agony. \"How did you beat me?\" I managed to ask.\n\n\"Well, you would have gotten away with it... if the world wasn't filled with supers trying to prove themselves to join the League. One super has the ability to detect evil in a person. Another has the ability to detect the strength potential in a person. And so on. But no one else could ever tell the future like you could. In the end, we caught on to your evil deeds and schemes by a simple luck of matching superpowers with each other in unique ways. Cooperation revealed you. After that, we simply needed to plan how to actually fight you.\"\n\n\"It took us years to plan. We needed to trap you in a non-reversible situation, where actions that you had taken in your past had already determined and limited your possible future actions. See, we figured there was a limit to how far into the future you could see. Or maybe you were just lazy and didn't bother looking too far. By the time you saw your own death, you simply had no possible action left to take that would avoid it.\"\n\nShe was right. I'd seen it coming for months now. But my power had no limits. In a twist of fate, I could see myself seeing myself in the future, and so on all the way to infinity. More than that, she was wrong to think I could only see my own actions and my own end. So yes, they'd beaten me into a bloody pulp. They wouldn't let me live either. They were vigilantes, not real League members yet. No cameras on them, no real moral compass to speak of. In a last herculean effort, I made my last monologue. It was traditional, after all.\n\n\"You supers never got it. All you know is the League, glowing bright with hope and justice for all. And you die for the league, because you believe in the cause. But you never got that us villains could believe in things too.\" I paused to spit up whatever blood was clogging my airways, coming straight from my punctured lungs. \"I looked into the future and saw a possibility that perfectly captured every thing and every way I wish the world was like. The only problem was making it a reality would lead to my death.\" She seemed to freeze in fear. They hadn't planned for this.\n\n\"But even after I had made up my mind, it was no easy task to accomplish it. See, I didn't know every super hiding in alleyways waiting for some poor criminal to beat to a pulp. I had no idea what powers walked this meager earth. So I had to make sure. My death was not simply some random byproduct of making my dream a reality. No, it was the key component. In every other future I saw, you eventually caught me and forced me to undo the damage I had done. Your plans to build a perfect trap, with no possibly escape... only worked because I played into it. It was not a trap for me, but to trap you in murderous actions beyond your understanding. You think you caught me, but I'm exactly where I want to be. Because in the end, the only threat to my dream was myself. \"\n\n\"And with me dead... you're all fucked.\""
}
] |
641 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: \"Now remember, a healing spell has some side effects. You may be tired, slightly dizzy, and DO NOT interact with anything strange you might see after. Let me repeat DO NOT interact with anything strange you might see. Ready? Good.\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "I did as she said. I interacted with none of the visions. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try and decipher them.\n\nI recalled the visions in my mind. First was the holy symbol the cleric used to cast the spell, but then it morphed and shifted into something else. I could hardly describe it. The symbol was a shape with so many sides it appeared to have none.\n\nI was bathed in light, but I heard a voice calling out to me in the darkness. It was a voice that echoed in many different tongues, but within it, I heard my own. The words I could not tell you, it was as if they spoke in ideas and emotions.\n\nI felt an embrace. I presumed it was the Grey Mother, the one the clerics of healing worship, but there was something wrong about the embrace I could not quite figure out. It felt too strong, too encompassing, too curious to be the warm, gentle Grey Mother who held me close. It wasn’t a guardian angel looking down at me. I felt as if I was being analyzed.\n\nAs I spend weeks pouring over texts in search of answers, those in my life tell me to stop. They say it's becoming an unhealthy obsession, consuming my life. Perhaps it is, but I can not let this rest.\n\nI was rejected by the clerics and I have yet to understand why. I performed all the prayer incantations perfectly, I showed a level of faith and devotion such that my robes were always white (the robes of the order track mental state, so when they change color the church can help them find faith again), I wanted nothing more than to heal.\n\nI was always hungry to learn more of the Grey Mother’s teachings. Searching through libraries, listening to stories of her kindness and forgiveness. I revered the saints of the past and looked up to them, wishing to learn all I could. Though there was some knowledge they kept from me, they told me it would be revealed to me when I passed judgment.\n\nWhen the final test came, where I faced the Grey Mother’s judgment, I failed.\n\nThere was no explanation, I felt no otherworldly presence. The clerics merely communed to the Grey Mother while I waited with terse apprehension. When it was over I looked to them with eager eyes, but they shook their heads solemnly.\n\nWhy hadn’t the Grey Mother accepted me? What could I have done wrong?\n\nOne day while researching a scholar nearby told me he recognized the symbol, that many-sided smooth surface, which I had seen. Though it was not anything related to the Grey Mother. I was looking in the wrong place.\n\nI looked for other accounts of people hearing emotions as if words, all languages at once, the shape, the strange embrace. There were a few meager vision writings, but oddly enough none were published by the church but by another source, ones that hid the knowledge within a dense text about an entirely different topic.\n\nWhat I discovered is what I saw in my vision had little to do with the Grey Lady, but rather seemed to align with a different entity. The Anithorath.\n\nIt was a being of which we understood little. It amassed knowledge and wisdom, so much so it was said that even just a glimpse at its vast well of knowledge could break any mortal.\n\nWhy was I seeing this in my visions? If the Anithorath healed me, what of the Grey Lady?\n\nFortunately, my chance will come soon. I had injured myself once more and am going to the church to get healed.\n\nI must know the truth. This time when the voices call out, I won’t shy away from them. I will answer its call."
}
] |
1,157 | third_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in third person and around 1100-1200 words. Prompt: \"I sympathize with your situation, but I must stop your geno-\" Before the paladin could use his magic, a lightning bolt struck him and took his powers away. Frustrated, he reviewed his god's rulebook: \"Rule 132: Don't sympathize with evil.\" \"That god of yours a bit dogmatic, innit?\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "The paladin hero was the last one standing in the way of the Evil Lord and her plan.\n\n\"You can't do this! The moment you finish the spell matrix on your tower, all humans who don't posses magic will die!\"\n\nThe paladin shouted, trying to break the barrier that was protecting the Evil Lord.\n\n\"You think my spell is that simple?\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said, chuckling in an eerie manner.\n\n\"Your minions already spilled the beans! And I will stop you!\"\n\nThe paladin said, as cracks appeared on the barrier.\n\n\"The spell, is a bit more complicated.\n\nAnyone who has the slightest resentment, or hatred towards magic will be eradicated.\n\nFarmers who don't even know about magic for example, won't be touched.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said, biting her hand, continuing to draw the matrix.\n\n\"That's impossible!\"\n\nThe paladin shouted.\n\n\"It's a high-tier self created magic.\n\nI sold my soul to the emotion circle of Hell, gaining the ability to feel hatred, envy, fear, lust, pride and so on.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said, with a content smile on her face.\n\n\"Why...Why are you doing this?\"\n\nThe paladin asked, trying to buy time, as he smashed the barrier with all the strength he could muster.\n\n\"Why?\n\nIt's something personal.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said, tying her long her in a bun, as it got in the way of her matrix.\n\n\"Excuses, just for your own sense of superiority, and satisfaction, you are going to sacrifice so many people?! Parents, and children alike!\"\n\nThe Paladin said, a hole the size of a fist, appearing on the barrier.\n\n\"Parents?\n\nI once had a nice beautiful family, with 2 loving parents, 3 little sisters, and 1 toddler brother who was not even 2 weeks old.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said, with a gentle, reminiscing smile on her face.\n\n\"What happened?\"\n\nThe paladin asked, seeing that this might be the topic, which could save the world.\n\n\"Oh, the townspeople, and several kingdom army units decided that a family with mages, and witches should be burnt, and they killed them.\n\nI escaped only because I was in the forest, next to our mansion, playing with my newfound friend, a phoenix.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said.\n\n\"I remember now!Your father was an evil necromancer, it was divine retribution!\"\n\nThe paladin said.\n\n\"Let me break it down to you.\n\nMother was a healer, she saved dozens of lives a day.\n\nAunt was an alchemist, she also saved lives.\n\nUncle was a merchant, but he funded orphanages for the war orphans, while building shelters for the beggars.\n\nFather was indeed a necromancer, but he studied the corpses, never touched a living being in order to study them.\n\nHe wanted to find a way to immortality, pretty foolish, but he wanted to do it, in order to save grandma.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord recounted, in a gentle, soothing voice, which hid an anger, ready to erupt.\n\n\"This...\"\n\nThe paladin was shocked.\n\n\"Now, when father actually cured grandma, and brought her back to her prime, people got scared.\n\nWe never wanted authority, or power, that's why our mansion was close, to the Forbidden Forest, far away from civilisation.\n\nYet, the closest town, still got scared by our mere presence, and invoking some lies, they brought fire, and death upon us.\n\nThey even showcased by little brother's intact corpse, as he was a fire mage fledging, he didn't get burnt, but still died of asphyxiation...He was barely 2 weeks old!\"\n\nThe Evil Lord shouted, losing her calm, the barrier coming down.\n\nThe paladin stepped closer to her.\n\n\"I...I sympathize with your situation, but this is not a reason to kill innocent people..\"\n\nThe paladin said.\n\n\"Nobody is truly innocent, but I...I can't fight you, and also finish the spell matrix, do what you want.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said, focusing on the matrix, her back once more, being turned to the paladin.\n\nThe paladin sighed, raised his sword, and tried to plunge it into the Evil Lord's back.\n\nBut right then, a lightning bolt hit him out of nowhere, losing all of his powers, losing grasp of his famed sword.\n\n\"This...My power's have been stripped by God for sympathizing with you...\"\n\nHe said, slumping to the ground.\n\n\"Quite dogmatic your God is.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said, glancing shortly at the paladin, before finish the spell matrix.\n\nA huge earthquake shook the tower, and the skies darkened.\n\nAfter a few minutes, the skies cleared, and the world stopped shaking.\n\n\"It is done.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said smiling.\n\n\"You just killed millions of people how can you be happy?\"\n\nThe paladin asked, lying on the ground.\n\n\"Millions, what are you talking about?\n\nThe spell killed 12 noble families, of the new kind, who hated magic.\n\nAround 10.000 soldiers who hated, and resented magic, and 4.000 commoners.\n\nThe kill count is less than the number of summoned demons you and your party killed.\"\n\nShe said, helping the paladin up.\n\n\"...\"\n\nThe paladin was speechless, his fate shaken, powers stripped.\n\n\"Don't be so sad, at least you are still good looking.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said chuckling, as she \"loaded\" the paladin onto a carriage.\n\n\"What...what are you doing?\"\n\nThe paladin asked.\n\n\"Mother taught me never to leave an ill person alone, and without help.\"\n\nShe said, smiling.\n\nShe was truly content, that revenge has been served.\n\n\"W-w-where are you taking me?\"\n\nThe paladin asked weakly.\n\n\"Oh, I am immortal, but bound by contracts that I shall do the demons biding once its needed.\n\nSo until then, I am free to do whatever I want.\n\nI am going to a town, and open an apothecary, and a clinic as well.\n\nHealing people is my area of expertise.\"\n\nShe said, chuckling.\n\n\"Y-you, haven't answered my question.\"\n\nThe paladin said.\n\n\"Your weakness is temporary, albeit getting your powers back is impossible, your physical power will come back, and I will need your muscle to help me.\n\nTaking care of the clinic, loading, and unloading resources, going out to hunt for food, looking for herbs, all of these will be your duty.\"\n\nShe smiled, so happy, and free of burden, she started whistling.\n\n\"Why should I do that?\"\n\nThe paladin asked.\n\n\"Consider it a compensation, for all those minions, and friends of mine, you've killed.\"\n\nThe Evil Lord said, giving a sharp look to the paladin.\n\nThe paladin actually felt awkward and didn't retort.\n\nThe two left, while high above in the sky, a bird was following them.\n\nThe world was thrown into chaos, when people died without an apparent reason.But since the number was extremely high, and it was mostly people who were against the mainstream magical system, after a few months, the incident was forgotten.\n\nWhile, far away, in a town surrounded by wilderness, a clinic, and apothecary was getting popular with the regions inhabitants.\n\nEspecially the quarrelling pair, who just don't want to admit that they love each other, and a beautiful rainbow coloured hawk, that is the shop's symbol."
}
] |
769 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: There's a door in the middle of the forest. No one who has ever gone in has come back. Your job is to guard anyone from going in. One night, you hear a knock on the door."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "I raised the flask to my lips, taking a long drag of the noxious liquor. It traveled down my throat, lighting a fiery path in its wake. I coughed, blinking back the tears. At least it would ward off the cold a little longer.\n\nLeaning against the bark of a sizeable tree, I closed my eyes in meditation. The night played it symphony around me, lulling and sweet. If anything, it was the main perk as being the Doorman. Getting away from the others was what I needed. They were too loud, always celebrating the smallest things. Gods, if they didn’t have anything to party about, they would find a reason why.\n\nThere was a sound, a light tap reverbing amongst the wooden giants surrounding me. I opened one eye, my hand gravitating to my gun. Didn’t sound like any woodland creatures. Probably one of the kids from the village, trying to spook me. Or maybe they wanted to divert my attention so they could see the Demon’s Door. After all, it had become a rite of passage for the youth to get as close as possible before being sucked up by it. Every once in a while, one tested their luck too much and were lost forever.\n\nBut not on my watch.\n\nSince taking the role months ago, there hadn’t been another disappearance. Impressive, considering the notoriety of the Demon’s Door. If someone wasn’t trying to get their own peek inside, they were trying to hack it to splinters. Yet, even the sharpest axe did little more than scratch the wooden surface. As the legends claim, the door is as impervious as the gods.\n\nAnother knock rang. It was louder – more pressing. There was no mistaking where it came from this time. I turned my head, tracing the origin on the sound.\n\nIt came from the door.\n\nMy blood ran cold, the alcohol doing nothing to warm it. That wasn’t possible. As far as the stories go, nothing existed on the other side. And I was damn sure no one stayed over there. Yet, the knocking came from it, sure enough.\n\nI rose to my feet, slow and apprehensive. I didn’t take my eyes off the door, hand still hovering over my holster. What could lie on the other side? If I had to guess, something I didn’t want to deal with.\n\nEach step towards the door was agonizing. Dead leaves crunched under my feet, the continual sound putting me on edge. I bit my lip, saying my first prayers since taking the job. I always figured they didn’t help when I was so close to evil. Now, I had no idea.\n\nOnce I reached the door, I paused. It was weathered yet looked brand new, it’s surface pale but smooth. A brass knob shined in the waning moonlight, glaring with a mysterious aura. It turned, a silent yet unmistakable movement.\n\nI pulled back, taking in a sharp breath. I expected the door to fly open, for foul spirits to pour forth and rip me to shreds. But it didn’t.\n\nAll I heard was the knocking.\n\nMustering enough courage, I placed my hand on the knob. It was warm, disobeying the winter’s touch. I embraced it, closing my eyes. I twisted my wrist, waiting for the worst.\n\nOn the other side of the door was darkness – inky blackness. I saw nothing but swirling shadows, tendrils reaching outwards. Yet, they couldn’t reach me. Not as long as I was on the other side of the door.\n\nA figure faded into existence, a white specter. I squinted, struggling to make out the form. At first, I couldn’t make out if it was man or woman, adult or child. However, after a few more seconds, it became clear.\n\nIt was a girl – scarcely older than eight. She looked up to me, a smile on her face. Her arms shot upwards, a begging expression plastered on her face.\n\n“Please, dad?” she asked, her voice soft and sonorous.\n\nThe rims of my eyes grew hot, tears bubbling forth. This couldn’t have been happening. Not now, not like this. I knew what I had to do.\n\nInstinctually, I grabbed the door and slammed it tight. Even then, there was muffled crying on the other side. It had been months since the last time I heard it yet the pain remained.\n\nI sank to my knees, clutching myself in pain. I mumbled the same words over and over, unable to hold back the tears. The knocking started again, piercing my sobs as the night’s symphony reached its end.\n\n“I’m so sorry, Nadia.”"
}
] |
985 | third_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in third person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: Mars is the new Wild West with Robot horses and Cyborg Marshalls."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "The metal doors slid open with a hiss that turned into a moan as the grit laden winds blew in. The machines on either side of the door buzzed and the reddish sand stayed within the vestibule, the invisible walls resisted the scraping grains. A figure clad in a long coat stepped through the doors and they slid closed behind them, killing the sound of the roaring wind. The machines buzzed for a few more moments, vents opening to suck out as much of the sand and pumping them back outside before turning off with a faint cough.\n\nThe figure brushed at its shoulders, scattering more sand. Dark green lenses peered about the room as the head scanned back and forth. The rebreather on the mask sucked in recycled air, and the figure nodded at the woman behind the bar. It approached the bar, booted feet thumped on the red stone ground and most turned away from the ominous looking person. The black lower leg length coat was worn from the harsh winds but still officious, the mask hid all human features, and the hood on the coat covered any hair the figure might have. Though short, the figure oozed authority, dominance,\n\nDespite the fearsome appearance the woman behind the bar smiled. She wiped clean a metal cup in her hands, the augmetic fingers of her right hand clicked against the material musically. Green eyes danced as she waited for the figure to approach, her normal fingers brushing a look of raven black hair away from tanned skin. “Good to see you darlin’,” she said warmly. Her voice was husky, a common trait shared by the wind-scoured dwellers of the Eastern Fringe. “Was hopin’ you’d show up soon. How you been?”\n\nThe figure’s gloved hands rose and pulled off the hood, revealing red hair tied in a braid. They touched both sides of the mask and after a beep and a hiss of releasing pressure, the mask lifted revealing a marble hued complexion. One eye shone with a purple light, a lens that clicked as it focused on the other woman. The other eye was grey as storm clouds, but they softened for the moment. “Good to see you too Ella.” Her voice was less raspy, clipped. Yet it still bore a faint huskiness to it, one that spent a life time breathing recycled air. “What’s the news?”\n\nBefore Ella could say more a hulking figure slid up to the petite newcomer. He breathed heavily, his breath heavy with alcohol and dust. “Well, what do we ‘ave ‘ear? What’s a little ‘burb bot gal doing here in the Wastes?” He laughed uproariously, but few others joined. Ignoring Ella’s pointed look he loomed over the metal eyed woman. “Kinda far for one of you ain’t it? That why you got the fancy suit, to keep the sand out of the metal bits.” He drooled lasciviously. “Maybe you need a fella to help keep them oiled.”\n\nThe smaller woman turned and looked up at the drunken man, utterly unfazed. “You should keep to yourself. If you know what is good for you.”\n\nHe glowered at her, face turning red as the sands outside. “Maybe you should be the one who should know what’s good.” A hefty hand fell onto her shoulder. As soon as it touched the smaller woman twisted down and to the left, her hand clamping onto his wrist. She spun and dragged him off balance, swinging her other hand into his side. A groan escaped his lips at the blow and before he could recover her arm went over his shoulder and she threw him bodily onto the ground. She held his arm up like a leave, keeping his body against the stone floor, kneeling on his shoulder. He flailed, tried to push himself up from the ground. Instantly he went limp as she touched a ring on her finger which emitted a holographic symbol.\n\n“You just assaulted a Mars-shall. Congratulations, you have been added to the Network as a malcontent. Anything else you do in front of me will result in punitive fines, time in jail, or physical punishment. Want to try your luck?”\n\nThe big man sobbed for forgiveness, nodding at her words and when released he made his getaway. The door opened before him and he staggered into the biting winds. The other occupants of the establishment laughed, many nodding in thanks to the Mars-shall before going back to their business.\n\nElla chuckled richly. “I love seeing you Athena. You put the rabble in line and it’s never borin’.”\n\nThe metal eyed woman smiled briefly. “I could use some boring time honestly. They have me going from the Fringe, to the Rusts, back to the Mekaniks, and now the Wastes.” She shrugged wearily, lines of exhaustion appearing briefly. “Well, a new crop of Mars-halls are about to go into service. Most are Mars locals too.” She winked. “Can’t let the Homeworlder’s run the place now can we.”\n\nElla giggled and shot Athena a wounded look. “I’m the only Terran ‘round here anyways. Never liked the place, why I’m here now.” She slid a chip across the counter top to the Mars-shall. “There you go darlin’. All the updated local maps and as well as some trading schedules. Hopefully they help you out. Oh and here,” she placed two slim silver metal tubes on the counter. “A little sweeter air than that much you get at the Depot.”\n\nAthena smiled back, slipping the chip into her wrist reader and carefully placing the flasks into her backpack. “Thanks Ella. I’ll come back before I head back to Prime. Give me a ring if you need anything.” She left a pile of credit chips on the counter before securing the mask back onto her face. The doors hissed open once more and the black clad Mars-shall walked into the roaring red sand winds, unbending."
}
] |
461 | third_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in third person and around 400-500 words. Prompt: George Wahington has been rolling in his grave for years over the state of the USA. He's rolled so much, that he's burrowed into the center of the Earth, and has returned as a magma and molten iron covered golem, with only one purpose: to set things strait, his way."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "Golem George Washington kicked in the door to the oval office, startling President Tal King Hed right out of his chair.\n\n\"Who are you?\" said President Hed, poking his head over the top of his desk.\n\n\"I'm Golem George Washington and I'm here to chop down your tree\"\n\n\"I though that was a myth\"\n\n\"Oh who even knows?\"\n\n\"Is that a rhetorical question?\"\n\n\"Also it was a metaphor\"\n\n\"For what?\"\n\n\"For setting this country straight\"\n\n\"So what do you want with me?\"\n\n\"I want you to set this country straight\"\n\n\"Oh\" President Hed looked down\n\n\"What?\" said Golem George Washington\n\n\"I uhm….I can't do that\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"I…don't really have any power\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Yeah\"\n\n\"Are you telling me that you, President Tal King Hed is just a talking head?\"\n\nThey both look at the camera, then return to the diegesis.\n\n\"So who do I talk to?\" said Golem George Washington\n\n\"Hellooo\" said a 9 foot tall lizard, stepping out of the corner.\n\n\"How did you…\"\n\n\"There'ssssss been sssssssome changesssss ssssssince you were in power, Golem Geroge Wassssssshington\"\n\n\"Changes? Like what?\"\n\n\"Well 9 foot tall lizardsssssssss running the country for one\" said the 9 foot tall lizard\n\n\"I thought you said you always ran the country\" said President Hed\n\n\"We ssssssssay a lot of thingsssssss\" said the 9 foot tall lizard \"now ssssssssit down and ssssssshut up\"\n\n\"Yes sir\" said President Hed, sitting on the floor behind his desk\n\n\"So you're who I talk to about setting things straight?\" said Golem George Washington\n\n\"Yesssssssss\"\n\n\"Ok. Set things stra…\"\n\nThe 9 foot tall lizard whirled around it's tail punching a hole through Golem George Washington's Golem head. Golem George Washington dropped to his knees and raised his hands to his face. The lizard turned, pulling it's tail free. There was a spray of molten blood and Golem Geroge Washington pitched forward.\n\nThe 9 foot tall lizard turned to President Hed, who was poking his head above his desk again.\n\n\"Get back to work\" said he 9 foot tall lizard\n\n\"Ok\"\n\nPresident Hed righted his chair and sat down at his desk.\n\n\"Oh and President Hed\" said the 9 foot tall lizard\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Raissssssse minimum mandatory ssssssssentencessssss for minor drug offencessssss and…I don't know lower minimum wage\"\n\nPresident Hed sighed \"Fine\"\n\n\"Without the attitude\"\n\nPresident Hed smiled and said \"Fine\"\n\nThe lizard disappeared into the corner.\n\n\"Scaly bastard\" said President Hed under his breath\n\n\"What?\" said the disembodied voice of the 9 foot tall lizard who actually ran the country\n\n\"Nothing\" said President Hed, before proceeding to make the country a little bit worse for poor people as Golem George Washington burned the carpet with his molten blood and zombie George Washington, stuck inside the Golem, metaphorically burned with anger, plotting his next move."
}
] |
762 | third_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in third person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: You are famous for never ever needing to sleep because of the things you have achieved, but no one knows you are an identical twin who discovered that only one of you needs to sleep at a time and you've had your sibling in a drug coma for the last ten years"
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "It was astounding, the discovery of the man who never slept. Nobody could explain it- there had been countless studies and experiments but with no reason as to why.\n\nThe twins were young when their abilities were discovered by their parents. Not the twins themselves. It was the parents that decided that one needed to take the fall in order for the other one to be successful. It was an easy choice for them, really, the one that was more trouble had to be put away, so they were put away.\n\nAny evidence of the other twins existence had been wiped. The world didn’t know. It wasn’t Max and Lewis Hutchison, it was just Max Hutchison.\n\nMax Hutchison, 18, top of all his classes in school and currently attending a prestigious university thanks to his grades and early entry.\n\nTalents include;\n\n•cooking\n\n•woodworking\n\n•metalwork\n\n•drawing\n\n•writing\n\n•Playing 19 different instruments\n\n•succeeding athletically in basketball, soccer, lacrosse, track and hockey.\n\n•dancing\n\n•gardening\n\n•photography\n\n•filmmaking\n\n•singing\n\nAnd various others.\n\nOne had a lot of time when they didn’t need to sleep. The need to fill that time ate at him, which is why he filled it with learning different things. It wasn’t right for someone not to sleep- He was a human, for god sakes. Yes, not sleeping made him successful, famous throughout the world as this genius, multitalented man. With the amount of news articles he had written about him he wondered how there were any more trees left in the world- and how the internet couldn’t be just blocked up with them, even with the endless-ness of the Internet.\n\nAll of this was baffling to him. Max learned quickly that this was messed up. His parents never had anything going for them. They were poor, spent money on drugs and alcohol but fuck as soon as they figured out the ability of their sons - or son, rather - they found the jackpot. They were drowning in riches, living off their son and milking his ability for every penny. Max was a tourist destination in his small home town of Toolah.\n\nDespite his young age, Max was already sick and tired of life. Tired- that’s what he was- but he couldn’t sleep for the life of him, no matter how much he tried because Lewis- poor Lewis- was lying there in a coma, his youth going down the drain. He didn’t deserve this, though Max would be lying if he didn’t admit that when this all started, he liked it. He liked what he could do and the attention he received for doing it. Max wished he could take his place, maybe Lewis would like this a lot more...and even if he didn’t /at least/ he’d get a taste of life...\n\nA taste of life, yes.\n\nThat’s what Max wanted to give him. And that’s what he had been spending his last few years on.\n\nOne had a lot of time when they didn’t need to sleep. The need to fill that time ate at him, which is why he filled it with noting every detail of his life, complying it into a thick folder which had the name READ ME LEWIS on the cover, and inside, a detailed letter to Lewis explaining everything.\n\nMax sat there by Lewis, who was lying in his coma bed. “I’ve figured it out.” He whispered, watching his brother. “I’ve figured out how to sleep.” He picked up the folder and placed it down on the bedside table. “I hope you realise what I’m doing for you, Lewis.” He grabbed the duffel bag he had brought in with him, placing t near he folder. “You’ll understand everything- I’ve written it down for you.” He reached into his pocket. “You can make the choice. If you want to take over for me, I’ve got every detail of my life, how you can act like me-“ He took the gun out. “If not, the duffle bag is full of money. Fuck, these people just love throwing money at freaks.” He pressed the gun to his head. “The money will take you anywhere you want to go. Again, that’s in the folder. Go into hiding, start a new life, I don’t care.”\n\nLewis laid there in the bed and Max swore he saw his brother twitching a little, as if he were responding to his words- perhaps telling him not to do this.\n\n“I know how to sleep so you can finally wake up.” Max let out a shaky breath, finger on the trigger.\n\n“I just want to sleep.”"
}
] |
1,415 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 1400-1500 words. Prompt: In the afterlife, you are given a choice of 7 gates to pass through and indulge in a deadly sin for the rest of eternity, but one in particular catches your eye; a rusty office door labelled \"PRIDE\" in bold font."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "The decor is decidedly neutral. There are no flames, no pitchforks, and no lakes of boiling acid. No horned Lucifer, with rotten wings and serpent eyes laughing at our misfortune. It isn't what we'd call hellish. But on the other hand, it isn't exactly heavenly either. No fair gardens, full of peace and quiet. No warm gentle lights, no angelic choirs, not a place by the side of any sort of maker. Mostly, it looks like the DMV. Long lines, leading to countless sets of seven gates. Each are the exact same gates, just existing at multiple locations at the same time, allowing for countless lines of human souls to pass through them at once. At least, that's what the faded and clearly generic pamphlet you get when you arrive says. Other than that, there are low-quality but free machines that dispenses adequate coffee, acceptable snacks, and some not entirely comfortable couches where you can sit if you're not sure which gate to enter. Some of us do sit there, drinking the unremarkable coffee, reading the pamphlet for information about what lies behind the gates.\n\nOnce you've entered, you can't pick a different one. Each gate is marked as belonging to a specific sin, of the traditional seven. Enter there and experience that stuff forever. First in the order is pretty simple. Gluttony. It looks to be a fairly greasy door, with a good deal of stains on it. Behind it, there is every kind of overindulgence. Food, drink, drugs, you name it, they've got it. Chocolate oceans, pools of whiskey, mountains of ice cream, free drugs of every kind from dispensaries everywhere. Pretty simple when you think about it, but there is an allure in it for many. Eat but never get full, drink but never have the hangover, feel the high and never the lows. It is understandable. Next is even more understandable, Lust. Less of a conventional door, and more a series of enticing veils. Through there you find exactly what you expect: Endless parlours, countless harems, boudoirs full of everything you can possible want in bed. That one is especially popular. In the infinite office, this DMV of the afterlife, there is a line to get inside Lust, and it is pretty unruly. In there, one can, supposedly, fulfil every passion, no matter how strange, sate every desire, no matter how bizarre. An eternity like that should be pretty eventful.\n\nGreed, or Avarice, comes next. It cannot be satisfied unless it has the most names. But it is pretty simple. Money, gold, wealth beyond measure, infinite treasure, it is the door that is most gaudy and looks so golden and bejewelled that it is ridiculous. High stocks, riches, big business, super-yachts, solid gold jacuzzis, jewels, and more; all that jazz. That's it forever behind that door. Ostentatious if you ask me, but I never sought out such things in life for the mere sake of having them. Those who cannot have enough will perhaps find it, but I don't intend to enter through there. Personally, when I look at the doors, I find it weird that there are only seven, but somehow I doubt that this place is built upon the writings of John Cassian the Roman monk, and his eight sins, because there are no doors marked as sorrow or despair, which was his fourth deadly sin. Then again, who'd ever actually enter that?\n\nInstead, the fourth door is Wrath. And it is dented, battered, and broken. Many enter it. Beyond lies every battle every fought, every conflict ever wrought, every single moment made in wrath, continuing forever. A battle that never ends with no victors in sight. A horrible eternity, and yet many rough-looking souls, and those who could never fulfil their rage in life, gleefully charge through the door. Some men are lost to rage. I've known some such men, who for a brief time become the fire inside of them, as it burns them out. It tears them apart, and leaves behind either death or empty shells that cannot be called back to the men they were. I do not seek what lies behind this door. Next comes Sloth. Seems to be a door leading to a bedroom. According to the pamphlet it is literally just an endless realm of good places to sleep, watch TV, relax, nap, and lie in the warm sun. It is quiet in there, and there is nothing that happens. A fair number of people go in there, and I don't blame them. After a long life, what you probably need is a good long rest, though judging from the hazy nature of some of the souls entering there, they seem to have been slothful in life too.\n\nSixth door is Envy. Not entirely sure how you'd experience that forever, but then again, this is death, nobody ever said it had to be very logical. Certainly don't recall having ever heard of this place before, but it seemingly exists despite its irrational nature. The envious get revenge. Get even. Oddly enough, that's the only thing the pamphlet says about it. You get even. Sounds vaguely ominous, and not entirely psychologically healthy. The door itself reflects this. It looks like the gate to a prison. Perhaps that place behind it, is the closest thing we get to a traditional hell. Not that I intend to enter there. Any enemy I might have had in life, I crushed. I was envious of no living or dead man. Only a few enter it. And they look incredibly worrying. Those who enter Wrath look either like emotionally detached veterans, returning to the war that hasn't left their heads, or violent lunatics that scream with glee. But the souls who enter the door of Envy look twisted and bitter. Like they've been stewing in that sin to the point that their souls are corrupt or something. I shudder to look at them.\n\nAnd finally, I come to the forefront of the queue. Seven doors. Gluttony holds no enticement for me, food is good and all, but not so good that I'd spend the rest of eternity indulging. Lust isn't it either, sure I could probably enjoy myself for a good long while in there, but as eternity stretches, how long can you continue to find it interesting when it is constant fulfilment? Greed is out, that's for people with nothing inside of them, empty, hollow creatures desperate to fill the whole hole in them, and the only thing they pour into themselves is empty mammon. Wrath isn't my style either; even Valhalla had breaks in-between the battles to feast and party. Sloth has some merit, but really, I'd go mad without anything to do besides rest. And Envy is not going to happen. Thus, my eyes are drawn to the only door that seems unused. I've been here in this infinite DMV of the afterlife, watching people in a million queues march towards the seven doors of the seven sins, and none has ever used the rusty door of Pride. It is there, I can see it, and yet it isn't described in the pamphlet at all. Even Envy had some pictures with its laconic description. Not pleasant pictures mind you, but pictures all the same.\n\nPride is just there. And instead of entering any of the other doors, I walk with measured steps towards its ancient rusted frame. Wrenching it open is a titanic effort on my part, which is strange as I am dead and thus should not feel any physical strain, and yet I keep doing it. I keep opening the door. It creaks ominously as it opens just enough for me to slip inside. The noise of the souls behind me cuts off as the rusted gate closes with a deafening boom. Behind the door of Pride, I see it. Vast palatial halls stretch before me. Proud statues hold their heads and blades aloft into the air. In the distance I see a vast and ancient throne, and I approach it without fear. This is what I have chosen, and I do not fear the ramifications of my choice. Let any challenger come, I am prepared. I see a figure upon the throne as I approach it. Once it was a tall man. Once it was a man with a straight back and a imperious glare which could silence lesser men with fear. Once it was an emperor. Once it was an angel."
}
] |
514 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 500-600 words. Prompt: The year is 3019 and you are a space captain thats reached the end of the universe. That is until you hit an invisible wall."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "We passed by the last star 4 years ago, leaving nothing but the darkness of space ahead of us. This journey began when the intelligent species of the known universe banded together in an effort to find the edge of space, and what was beyond. Now, years of eating, sleeping, and documenting were coming to fruition. This chosen team of talented and varied species was one jump away from reaching the edge.\n\n“I can see it through the wormhole”, my reptilian second-in-command said, shivering with anticipation.\n\n“Then take us through, and slowly, we’ll be only three feet from the edge, and I want us to have every moment of reaction time we can get.” I replied.\n\nHe nodded, and we inched toward the wormhole: its wispy illumination blinding us as we got closer. ‘This was it’, I thought silently to myself, ‘I wonder what’s beyond it. Guess we’ll finally find out’. A loud crack reverberated throughout the air, and my body was suddenly light and almost disconnected from reality. As we exited, billions of light years from where we were, we were met with a murky haze. It stretched truly astronomical distances in all directions, pulsing with a soft light. We were there.\n\n I addressed the driver directly this time: “Slowly Gil’Ter, you got this”. The many armed alien simply nodded back, pressing multiple buttons to keep us steady in our approach. Two feet were left, then one. I held my breath and kept my eyes wide open for what was past the universe. A heavy thud shook the ship, and we all hurdled forward.\n\n “What was that” I asked, hoping for an answer from anyone. Confused faces were all I saw, all wondering the same thing. Then Gil’Ter pointed at the haze of the end, which had been marked with a sentence translated in all our languages: “We are not ready for you yet”.\n\n“What does that mean,” my second-in-command shouted, past the boiling point of rage.\n\n The previous message then faded, and a new one came into existence: “You are not supposed to be here, we have not made this part yet, but it will be ready soon”. \n\n“Who are you then, and what are you creating” I asked.\n\n“I am a craftsman, I build things. Like this universe for example, or at least this part of it. You weren’t supposed to find this, you were supposed to be squabbling among each other.” The entity wrote.\n\n “And what are you building” I continued, fear building up despite my resolve not to.\n\n The writing faded once again, but minutes passed before the response arrived. “A game for my amusement”. Then the haze lifted, and we saw a monstrous eye larger than a thousand suns clear as day even millions of light years away, the rest still shrouded. “It will be ready in about two decades, so warn the rest will you.” \n\n Some reacted in shock, some in fear, and some in despair, but we were all in unison in thinking one thing. The trip to this edge of space had taken thirty years."
}
] |
691 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: \"Many children had been orphaned by the recent dragon attack. Yet, this one was different. She was missing a leg. She could barely see. She looked as though she hadn't eaten in days. And yet, she had the most intense and powerful magical aura you had ever seen in a human\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "The orphanage reeked of human despair. Newly orphaned children still grieving their parent's passing, orphans new and old struggling with injuries that would haunt them for the rest of their lives, caretakers worrying how they'll ever feed this many new faces. Ordinarily this is the last place I would be. I know it sounds heartless, but wallowing in other people's misery is usually the least productive thing I could be doing at a given time.\n\nBut the signal was so strong here I simply couldn't ignore it. I closed my eyes so I could see better, shutting out all the noise so I could focus on the feeling that brought me here.\n\nThere, in the corner.\n\nI opened my eyes and saw the source of the signal. It was a girl, 12 years at the oldest. Her eyes were covered with blood-soaked bandages and one of her leg was missing just below the knee. She wasn't the worst injured person here, but she would certainly struggle to get by. I made my way over to her cot and sat down on the ground beside her.\n\n\"Hello\" I said softly, to avoid startling her.\n\nShe stayed quiet. Didn't even turn towards me.\n\n\"Can you tell me your name?\"\n\nShe remained silent.\n\n\"It's alright. You've had a rough day, you don't need to talk to anyone. But I wanted to talk to you.\"\n\n\"Do you know what magic is? You don't have to talk, just nod.\"\n\nShe nodded.\n\n\"Good. I'm a wizard. I do magic and help people. And one of the things I can do with my magic is tell where other magic is. And I can feel an awful lot of magic coming from you.\"\n\nThat got her attention. She bolted upright and looked at me. \"I didn't mean to! It's wasn't my fault!\"\n\n\"It's ok. I'm not accusing you of anything. The thing is, there aren't a lot of wizards, and I think you could be really good at it. So I was wondering if you would like me to teach you.\"\n\nShe relaxed and sat quietly for a moment.\n\n\"I can't help anyone. I make bad stuff happen. Dad said I was cursed, and it was my fault mom disappeared. Now Dad disappeared too, and everyone else is hurt, and it's all my fault. I didn't want to hurt anybody. I promise I didn't.\"\n\nShe curled up as best she could with her injuries and began crying.\n\n\"It's ok. It's not your fault. You know, people said the same thing about me when I was your age. It'd hard being special. But I found someone to teach me how to use it to help people, and you know what they say about me now?\"\n\nShe stopped crying for a moment and looked up at me.\n\n\"They say 'thank you.' I can teach you how to help people. Then they'll thank you too.\"\n\n\"Do you really think I can help people?\"\n\n\"I really do. So what do you say, do you want to be a wizard?\"\n\nShe paused to think it over, then nodded firmly. \"Yes. I wanna be a wizard.\"\n\n\"Well alright then. Let's find whoever's in charge here and tell them you're leaving.\"\n\nShe turned to stand up and remembered her missing leg.\n\n\"Um, mister, I can't walk.\"\n\n\"That's fine,\" I said. \"Wizards don't need to walk.\" I cast a simple levitation spell and she started to float an inch off the ground. \"That one's easy. I think I'll teach you how to do that first.\"\n\nShe spun around in the air, grinning ear to ear.\n\n\"By the way, my name is Mathias Windcarver. And you never told me your name.\"\n\n\"Oh, sorry. My name is Adelaide Stevens.\"\n\n\"Adelaide is a very good name, but we'll have to do something about your last name. No self respecting wizard would go by Stevens.\"\n\n\"Well I didn't pick it! I was born with it.\"\n\n\"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll earn a much more impressive wizard name soon.\" I adjusted the spell keeping her afloat to follow me, and I set out in search of whoever was in charge of adoption."
}
] |
949 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 900-1000 words. Prompt: A put their hands on B's shoulders, looked them in the eye, and said \"You're about to see some scary stuff, but I need you to remember: it's still me, and I'm going to get you out of here safely,\" before they leapt at the rampaging beast, their form shifting midair into a monster themselves."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "I left her tied to that post, even as she screamed behind me. I couldn't spend my time working about where she was. At least on the post, she was relatively safe. The remaining villagers were posted nearby, many sporting injuries, but holding their weapons tightly. They were no good at attacking, but they knew damn well how to defend.\n\nAs I jumped, time seemed to slow for me. I could see the bodies around me of the professional hunters. They had called themselves that, but given how quickly they fell apart I doubt it. A few were still on their feet, bravely trying to take the beast down. But their simple weapons just glanced off its fur.\n\nI knew I was the only one who could stop it. I had hoped it wouldn't come to this, but rarely did I get what I wanted. I felt within myself, and let go of my disguise. As I fell from my supernaturally high jump, I felt the wave of change. The soft skin of my body turned hard, sprouting large scales. I bulged out, clothing tearing away as I grew to my proper size.\n\nMy mouth grew warm, expanding and changing to that of a predator. Even my senses changed, becoming far sharper than they used to be. As I landed, the ground shook. The beast turned to me, its eyes flashing with joy at the sight of a challenge. It's tendrils dropped the hunter it held, before rushing me.\n\nI roared, feeling the rush of true battle. With my other half relying on me, I could not fall. My tail, newly grown arched overhead, the stinger dripping with venom. I stretched out my claws, meeting the beast head on. With its two dozen thick tendrils, it could hit at a rapid pace. I had to be on the defensive at first, as I sized up its attack method.\n\nWhat I saw pleased me. This was just a simple warped beast. Strong, angry, but little in the way of brains. It knew how to kill, but not how to fight. That was the difference between us. I knew how to adapt. And adapt I would.\n\nThe tendrils were my main concern. There were too many to keep track of, and I had to pay attention to the villagers as well. I knew them all, and they had to survive. I wasn't going to let them die. I let one through, as it came to my head. I could see its end covered in bony protusions, as it darted for my eyes.\n\nBut before it reached them, I ducked under it. One claw grasped it, pulling it into perfect position. I didn't hesitate, biting through the rubbery flesh. A bitter taste filled my mouth, but I held on as I tore through the muscles. With a snap I pulled it away, severing it.\n\nThe beast screeched, increasing its attacks. I defended, hiding a small shudder as I swallowed a little of its blood. I let the rest dribble out, hiding the fact I had started my second strike. As it raged on, I severed more tendrils, dropping them to the ground.\n\nI felt a cold wave start in my tail. A glance told me everything I needed to know. The scales that ran along the top began to change. Keeping pace with the cold wave, the deep green was darkening to a black. With that in mind, and after removing a quarter of its tendrils, I switched it up.\n\nI went on the offensive, shoving and clawing. It seemed to appreciate it more, trying to do a similar thing. But with a quarter of its strength gone, it was already on the losing side. But I still had to be wary. Those protrusions still hurt, and a few hits carved rents in my hide. But I pushed on.\n\nAfter a few minutes, the cold had reached my stinger. I grinned, arching it up. The venom, once clear, now dripped in pitch black. I surged forwards, piercing its torso. It roared, jumping away. But it was too late. I had already delivered the dose.\n\nThe effects were soon apparent. It stumbled, as parts of its body locked up. My poison, a paralytic created specifically for this creature was swift. Its eyes finally showed fear, understanding that it was my fault. It tried to run, but it was far, far too late.\n\nWith a crash, it fell to the ground. I stalked over, keeping a wary eye on it, Justin casein was a trap. But I needed have worried. It was too simple for that. It couldn't escape as I stood over it in domination. I had won. I reached back with my claws, before speaking them into its chest. I didn't seek to torture it, but instead aimed for its heart.\n\nFinding the organ, I tore it out. The beast let out a low moan, that faded into silence. I let it fall, before turning back to her. Her face wasamask of emotion that I had a hard time reading. I winced, padding over to the post. The binding fell as I sliced them, and she looked up at me.\n\n\"Eve? Are you ok?\"\n\nI nodded, before looking down at my body. Her gaze followed, and her cheeks pinked before looking in my face.\n\n\"Do you need some clothes?\"\n\nI nodded again. She was taking this remarkably well. I thought too soon though, asshe stared atme, and a little hysteria crept into her voice.\n\n\"Fine, I will get you some. Then, you can change back, and tell me what THE HELL IS THIS!\"\n\nI winced. This was not going to be fun."
}
] |
666 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: Everyone is born either blind or deaf. You were raised as a deaf, as you have vision, but just found that you aren't supposed to hear sounds."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "Since life had started, the war had been raging. An eternal constant of religious belief. Some are meant to see, others meant to hear. The God of Sight bestows the quiet wonder of color. The God of Hearing composes the symphony of sound, of ambiance and speech. To them, the other is blasphemy, an insult to how the world is meant to be experienced. And so we war and we fight until the chosen people remain.\n\nI was raised amongst the sighted. I grew up in a continent of color. We wore bright clothes and enjoyed the freedom of open spaces. Anyone could go anywhere anytime and without requiring any help. We could communicate through sign language and written word and see the emotions on others’ faces. Truly our God was the better.\n\nI grew up feeling fortunate, the war something the adults hid from us children. I grew up running and playing with my friends, learning my work, and always thanking the God of Sight for blessing me. I learned to hate disbelievers, though I never encountered any, and I was excited for when I turned eighteen to chop off my ears during my manhood ceremony.\n\nThis was the only life I ever knew and it was the only life I ever thought existed. Only when I was sixteen did I realize that something was different, that something was not right. I had always experienced a sensation I could not explain. Sounds all around me boomed constantly. It was like my inside voice, but it was outside. Anytime someone moved, I would hear them. Anytime the masks over their mouths twitched, I would hear a noise. Sometimes I thought I heard the others. I heard their inside voices from the outside too.\n\nIt was around this time that they started teaching us about the war. We started training for our service. I learned then that what I had been experiencing was called hearing. My ears, those filthy things at the side of my head, had brought in blasphemy. They had brought in the unclean sound to the temple that was my body. I panicked. I wanted to kill myself. A tightness gripped my stomach and I wanted to cut off my ears then and there. How could I be so evil? How could I be so impure? Was there any way to repent?\n\nI dared not mention my abilities to anyone else. Over the past year I have kept to myself and prayed often. At nights I sneak out, a task quite easily done when there is no one to hear, and I read the banned books at the library. I read the books only those with the highest clearances are allowed to read. I read of those who worship the God of Hearing and of their lives. To them hearing is a blessing. They have refined sound to create art, to communicate. I read about these people and I wonder how I can kill them. How can I take up arms against them? What God would want us to kill because we are different?\n\nI have mulled on this for some time and I think I know what I will do. It may mean the end of my life, but what is life in a world such as where I live. This fighting must stop. The war must be over. When I turn eighteen I will refuse to cut my ears off and I will preach a different message, one of togetherness. Perhaps we could accept one another instead of doing our Gods’ work. Why must there be a God of Sight and of Hearing? Maybe there is only one. Maybe there is none. I don’t know. I don’t know whether my message will get through either. I hope it does. I hope there will be change. Maybe I am too optimistic, but so what. I can’t ignore the turmoil that I see. I can’t ignore the cries I hear. I have to try."
}
] |
1,255 | third_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in third person and around 1200-1300 words. Prompt: Other immortals have amassed great fortunes, but in the 200 years since you turned you couldn't bring yourself to take advantage of the humans and make the same profits. At this point, you can't honestly afford gas for your '98 Toyota."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "The last stitch is usually the hardest to get in. Stephen gritted his teeth as he felt around, puncturing the skin in what he hoped was the right place. Taking your own kidney out is never easy. Maybe next time he could at least get a cleaner mirror than the one he used in the rundown motel on Route 66. And some painkillers would be nice as well. But considering that he can’t even afford gas for his '98 Toyota, the idea of a sedative almost seems laughable. Besides, kidneys usually grow back pretty quickly.\n\nThere is no knock on the door when they come. Men dressed in black fatigues kicked down the hotel door. Stephen jumped, not from the sound, he's used to that by now, but for the owner of the hotel. The guy has three daughters all under the age of five. He has enough problems. Without hesitation, Stephen raised the scalpel still in his hand and cut his throat. The blood spilled out of him and onto the medical cooler containing his kidney.\n\n“Target down!” the man in charge said as he ran to cover the wound on Stephen’s neck. It’s too late. Stephen’s eyes have already glossed over. “Sir, we’ve lost the target,” radioed the man.\n\n“There goes the bonus,” said another man, removing his black ski mask and pointing his gun towards the ceiling. That’s the moment that Stephen was waiting for.\n\nHe buries the scalpel in the leader’s eye and grabs his machine gun. In one smooth motion, Stephen kills all three mercenaries in the room. Each shot a direct hit in the forehead. There’s no need for a follow-up bullet. Stephen has always believed in one and done.\n\n“You guys are getting quicker,” Stephen said to the leader’s body that lays in almost the exact place where Stephen died. Or died and came back. It’s a little like Jesus but without all the religious fanfare, and that’s the way Stephen prefers it. As an immortal, he would like to remain unknown. There’re too many complications.\n\nHe grabs the medical cooler with his kidney and jumps out the window. There are a couple of more guards around the perimeter, but they are easily taken care of. Stephen spent time with some sneaky monks a hundred or so years ago. They are one of the reasons the other immortals aren’t able to capture him. Or at least why they can’t hold him. He's been captured plenty of times.\n\nCalmly, as if he is on a Sunday drive, he gets into their black SUV and drives away towards Mexico. He makes a plan to come back one day for his Toyota. He likes that car. It’s got all his radio stations already programed.\n\nHe’s always gone by the name Stephen through his long life. He was born a Stephano in Spain. Became Stiven for a while in Moscow. The monks just called him Phen. He prefers the Americanized Stephen though. It feels more…ordinary. The other immortals have always kept their names spelled exactly how they were born. Allatu, Bisa, Cael-to name a few. There are more but he never bothered to remember anyone else past the A, B, Cs. They use their money and their power gained over centuries to keep questions away. All of them do.\n\nAnd they’ve always taken. Everything. They profit from war. They profit from poverty. They profit from excess. It’s always been about money with them. Power. They don’t care what happens to the world as long as they get to live in excess. In the beginning, in Moscow, Stiven saw Bisa sell a live man off for dissection. When it was pointed out that the man wasn’t dead, she killed him. Stiven ran soon after that. And they’ve been chasing. They have their reasons. But if Stephen can finish today things will be better.\n\nStephen parks the SUV in a Walmart and hitchhikes the rest of the way to Mexico. He knows that they’ll find the car soon enough, of course, but it will take time to find him. Immortals can find each other, given enough time. And the trucker that picked him up and took him across the border may have given him the extra time.\n\nOr not. Maybe he’s gotten predictable in the last 200 years?\n\nStephen arrived at the clinic to find Allatu, Bisa, and Cael waiting for him.\n\n“We can’t let you do it,” said Allatu, still favoring his Mesopotamian accent.\n\n“We’ve already killed the doctor,” said Bisa, her bright-colored robe draped easily over her shoulders.\n\n“I say we just stick him in a hole and see what happens after a couple hundred years,” said Cael. Stephen hated Cael’s red hair as much as his cruelty.\n\nStephen doesn’t say anything because there is nothing left to say. There’s nothing left to do. Yes, the doctor is dead, but there will be others. The immortals have faith in their arrogance, in their paid mercenaries outside, in their immortality. But they have never had faith in humanity, and that is the difference between Stephen and them. He knew that they would always find this sleepy Mexican town with the doctor that transplants his organs to the poor. A heart here, a kidney there. Once he even gave an eye. It didn’t take but it was worth a shot. He’s given away thousands of his organs. And they have all found a home here, in this town, with these people.\n\nThey come from far and wide. Unable to get a transplant because they don’t have the money or the connections, they find their way to Isla Du Majeures. They don’t know how or why, but they do. Doctors find their way here, too. They stay for a while and then move on. Complete transplants that always seem to go perfectly even though the clinic isn't the most hygienic. The organs thrive. The people thrive. They gain back their strength.\n\nAnd they call this little town their home. Stephen can feel every single one of them. Thousands. Outside right now. Slowly walking toward the clinic, each with a piece of him in them.\n\nThere are gunshots outside, but it is short. Allatu goes to the window and comes back looking paler than the thousands of years that he’s been alive. Bisa’s eyes go wide. Cael charges Stephen but it’s at that moment that the door burst open. But this time, It’s Stephen’s people.\n\nThe Big Three are quickly subdued. A doctor, a man that Stephen has never met, comes in last. Stephen hands him the cooler. One fresh kidney.\n\nThere is a popping in the air. Stephen's eyes go hazy for a minute and then they refocus. It’s done. Stephen is mortal again. And so are all the immortals. Allatu’s silent scream confirms it for Stephen.\n\nStephen bends down to the three.\n\n“True immortality is what you give to others. It’s their memory. It’s their love. It’s not money or possessions. No matter how old you get, they are just things. Giving others a chance at life is truly allowing yourself to live forever.”\n\nAnd with that, Stephen turned, left the clinic, and found an old Ford Pickup truck. It would probably get him all the way back to the hotel if he could borrow some gas money. He had a door to fix for a man with three daughters in a hotel on Route 66. As he drives away, he hears the screams of the no longer immortal immortals being hacked to pieces."
}
] |
638 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 600-700 words. Prompt: You are an owner of a small convenience store sitting in your office when a confused cashier walks in holding some kind of round metal pieces \"some old man is trying to pay with these\""
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "I look down at the scattering of battered currency on my desk; A tiny Australian 5 cent Echidna, a big and heavy 5 Swiss Francs with a chunk missing from one corner, a last-of-the-line late William V two pound coin with a greasy shine, a heavily clipped silver argenteus with what appeared to be my old friend Diocletian on one side, an unmarked drier token and an Indian 10 paisa with 8 scalloped sides.\n\nShe drops another handful; a mud-caked Spanish Dollar, a triangular Bermudan 3 dollar, a pair of Krugerrands, an Iraqi Dinar, a Japanese 50 Yen and a jumble of others I wasn't able to instantly identify.\n\nAfter a long moment I look up at my assistant, Bliss, and try to hide the fear in my voice while the significance of each one flashes through my mind in a jumble of memories and sensations and my blood starts to run cold, \"Give him what he wants, and tell him to come back at midnight.\"\n\nShe shrugs, and turns to go.\n\n\"Wait,\" I say. \"Don't look him in the eye.\"\n\nShe rolls her eyes, and slouches back down the stairs. God, what I'd give for her coolness in the face of that man.\n\nI listen hard, holding my breath to heat the door creak open and shut, which it does. Even after all these years getting comfortable and complacent, I always made sure the door would creak. As much good as that has done me, now I'm hold up here like a rat in a trap.\n\nAnother look at the coins, and my former wariness, flightiness even, seems suddenly justified. Each time I dropped everything and ran for my life, he was right behind.\n\nThe late night unannounced exit from the ski in and out bar in Switzerland, hurtling blindly downhill knowing I'd never set eyes on those friends again, suddenly real and terrifying once more.\n\nThe bone-freezing dawn escape across the channel into France, echoes of the Scarlet Pimpernel as the last English King was captured and cut down by the Faragistes, fleeing the chaos that I knew would make it easier for him to find my trail.\n\nThe Indian paisa, and the painful thoughts of fleeing the train to hike back up the mountain alone, being assumed dead by travel companions as I left yet another life and identity behind forever.\n\nThe Echidna confirmed what I'd doubted for years, relentlessly doubting myself and my over-sensitive instincts. Not returning to the boat and instead swimming back to shore caused massive problems for the diving company, and hitch hiking the length of the country was an experience I'd rather not relive.\n\nAnd now another life was over, it was time to leave behind the accumulated experience and stuff of yet another existence and search the world for another quiet place to settle.\n\nSuch is the price of tricking a demon into giving the gift of immortality. The slow but ceaseless pursuit that means I can never rest, never fully relax.\n\nIt's a long time since he's been this close, and I need to move quickly. I always have a bag packed, but this time I've been complacent and lazy. The clothes will be dated by now, if they fit at all, and I should have made better financial decisions.\n\nI take the bag from the cupboard and have one last look at my home of the last 40 years. Only my home, I long since gave up on the idea of a family I'd one day have to abandon. Maybe once I find another life it will be time to revisit that thought.\n\nThe clock says 10.13pm, that gives me just over half an hour to make the ferry. If I can make that, maybe I'll be far enough away by midnight to disappear by morning. Maybe…"
}
] |
755 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: Today, you have become a parent. You realise that you can hear your child's thoughts. The midwife informs you that this is the same for everyone but parents simply don't inform the children as an unwritten rule. Your own parents smirk."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "I sighed and looked down at my daughter bundled comfortable in my arms, her petite face resting against my chest which was barely covered by the uncomfortable hospital attire. She was beautiful, I didn't have a name decided yet, I wanted to see what her personality was like before choosing one of the two that I was stuck on. I wonder how much she would be like me, and how much she would end up being like her father. Although I could already tell that she had my eyes, she certainly had his nose and his mouth.\n\nI heard a noise again, so much unlike a cry and more like a small voice echoing inside my head. I shook it off, it must be the lack of sleep. Between going into labor and all the visitors we had had this morning, there had been little time to rest up for me.\n\nI glanced over to my parents and saw my mother smiling at me, and my father hiding the twitch at the corner of his mouth as I shook off the tiny little whisper in my head. I clearly needed to shoo everyone away to get a nap in, but I didn't have the heart to tell my parents to leave.\n\nThe midwife came into the room, it was time to get my vitals, check up on my daughters feeding and her weight, looks like my nap was going to have to wait.\n\n\"How are you feeling? Any soreness?\" She asked me as she looked over the feeding journal I had been filling out all day.\n\n\"I mean it's not awful, I don't feel great, but it's certainly not comfortable. I already told you that I don't want any painkillers, I can manage without.\" I almost whined the last part, I was tired of these check ins and it hadn't even been twenty four hours yet!\n\n\"I know, I remember that. I wasn't going to ask. Is everything else ok though?\" The midwife asked this as if she knew something I didn't.\n\nI smiled slightly and leaned back against my pillow. \"I mean, I'm exhausted, it's taking it's toll, I swear that I'm hearing little voices in my head. I'll be fine after I get a good nap in, I'll feed her again first though.\"\n\nThe midwife, her name was Rebecca, I think. She smiled at my parents, making eye contact for a moment before looking back to me as I glanced between them.\n\n\"You aren't hearing voices, and it's not the exhaustion, although you'll have many nights of that from here on out. You're hearing your daughters thoughts, all parents can hear their children.\"\n\n\"Excuse me?\" I blinked and sat up staring at her incredulously, there was no way that I heard that correctly, no way.\n\n\"All parent's can hear the thoughts of their children. Although we tend to never tell children that. Once they know, the parents start to lose the ability, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly. Didn't you ever wonder how your mother knew everything?\"\n\nMy eyes got wide, I'm sure if this was true my parents heard the string of curse words flying through my head. I felt a pluck, like someone snipping a tightly wound string inside me, I couldn't tell you where, but that was exactly what it felt like. Then the panic really set in, I turned to look at my mother, being careful to not wake my daughter.\n\nAnd there it was that all knowing smirk that I had seen my entire life from my mother, while my father just smiled, not holding back at all. He knew damn well what I was thinking without hearing it anymore.\n\nThat was how they knew what I did with my boyfriends, how they knew things before I ever told them. They knew when I lost my virginity, they knew why I got fired from my first job, and why I failed out senior year of college. They knew what drugs I had done and what I had turned down. Worst of all they knew the things that my husband and I were into, they knew the day my daughter was conceived. They knew everything.\n\nI wanted to disappear into my bed and hide from them for now, but I couldn't. Soon I would understand how this universal secret of parenthood worked and I would use it to guide my daughter and keep her safe.\n\nBut in the meantime, I could only think of how horrifying this was.\n\nThey knew everything."
}
] |
819 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: Viewpoint of a girl who loves her father, The viewpoint of that fathers love for that girl. She is an A.I in a synthetic body and doesn't know and he is dying."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "Today I am twenty five. The same age my pops was when I was born.\n\nWhen I come down the stairs he is in the kitchen. The whir of the fab on the oven buzzes blurs in to the sound of him singing. When I get to the foot of the stairs I see him. He is wearing mom's old apron. Smears of butter stripe its front. Flour dusts his cheeks. He is holding a wooden spoon that is crusted with cake mix. And in to that spoon he is singing. The song is familiar but I can't quite place it. Upbeat and jolly.\n\n'Ooh, Isabelle.'\n\nHe stood when he sees me. Red surfaces on his neck and spreads over his pale cheeks. I wish he hadn't seen me.\n\n'Happy birthday!'\n\nHe holds out his arms and walks towards me.\n\n'I'm a bit buttery at the moment.' He lowers his arms and instead he kisses me on the cheek. That's him all over, there's always a way around the problem.\n\n'Half a century.' His mouth wavers in to a smile. There is a sadness that always curdles his smiles on special occasions. I think that's just the kind of person he is. He never surrenders to happiness.\n\n'Thank you, dad! Where's my tiara and wand? Come on, I've been up for ten minutes now!' I check my imaginary watch before clapping my hands. 'Chop chop!'\n\nHis smile loses its pessimism then. Retrieving his wooden spoon, he starts singing in to it again. I join in; we are both tuneless and pitchless and loud. Joyful.\n\nThe cake sinks in the oven. I told him not to keep opening the door but he assured me it would be fine. His confidence inflated as the cake survived further inspections without caving.\n\nIt wasn't until right at the end. I hear him bang the oven door shut and rush in to the kitchen. Cake is on the floor, broken into smouldering chunks. He is scraping a bowl of pink icing in to trash.\n\n'Dad!'\n\n'I know, I know Is. You told me that would happen.' The spoon hits the trash can with a metallic clank.\n\n'I'll go to the bakery later.'\n\nI am so surprised to see him give up that hot tears sprung in to my eyes.\n\nX\n\n'Don't cry, Is.'\n\nWhen she cries she is reduced to a small child again in my eyes. It's hard not to weep with her. Her mother wept when she knew she was leaving us. I saw how it broke Isabelle, to keep her own tears inside while her mother cried on her shoulder. I promised I wouldn't put her through that.\n\nOnce I have tidied the angry mess I made she sits at the table and I tell her I am going to get her gifts. As I walk behind her, I grab her by the throat, my forearm restraining her chin so she can't bite me like last time.\n\nThere is a flap of plastic in that hard to reach spot, the one you can never itch yourself, just below the shoulder blades. I flick it open and disable her functions. Her head hangs limp, a waterfall of chestnut hair curtailing her face. This was how she was twenty five years ago. Model 5-A12. The Isabelle chip. I remove that not. Pinching it between my fingernails.\n\nFor a moment I stop and hold the little chip on my palm. A grey square, no bigger than my little fingernail. Gold strips running along the bottom. All of that data; her voice, her motion, the rhythm for her heartbeat.\n\nSometimes I forget she isn't human. Her breathing mechanism is remarkably unobtrusive. Her eyes flicker when she is thinking. She bites her lip when she is nervous. For every upgrade of her we have made, from child to teenager to adult, she has always retained that sense of humanity.\n\nNow, I have to leave her. My lungs are shrunken and bobbled. Tumours pushing on my ribs, making my back sear. It hurts all over. That's why I dropped the cake. I couldn't hold it anymore; it hurt too much.\n\nInside an A6 piece of bubble wrap I place the chip. Folding it over, I wrap it as carefully as I would have done her gift. She is still sitting beside me. Prone and lifeless. The house is so quiet.\n\nOn the envelope is the return address for the manufacturer. For a moment the thought flits through my mind; of it being formatted. Everything about her wiped.\n\nThe thought of her death is more painful than my impending own.\n\nLicking the envelope, I seal the fold and then call for a mail pick up. If I don't do it now, I might change my mind. And that would be unfair on Isabelle. A parent's love takes many forms, I think. I am just protecting her. That's all."
}
] |
722 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: One seemingly normal day, you stumble upon a strange scroll. Curious, you decide to read the strange gibberish inside, when you're sudddenly gifted with god-like magic."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "“How did you get shot, Mila?” Tom asked me. “You have magic powers!”\n\nI conjured a drink of juice from my mind, and drank slowly. Tom glared at me, and I could feel him waiting for a response. Good.\n\nI slowly put the glass down, and said “Someone snuck up on me. I didn't notice, cause I was trying to get on another level in Candy Crush.”\n\n“Can't you use your powers to just win Candy Crush?” pointed out Tom.\n\n“That would take out all the fun. Anyway, by the time I realized that Jimmy had attacked me, I was on the floor. I was kinda shocked he even remembered me. Guess he didn't like when I won every single game in his casino.”\n\n“Mila, you're an idiot,” he said. “Just try not to get arrested again. Not everyone had god-like powers that let them fix things. People start asking questions.”\n\nHe threw me out of the car, and left me on the side of the road. Jerk. He didn't even offer to give me a ride home. I mean, I can teleport home. But it's the principle of the thing.\n\nSnapping my fingers, I found myself in front of my sister's house. Shoot, I intended to go to my apartment. Guess it was my subconscious direction, or whatever my therapist said. I decided to give her a visit.\n\n“Nice to see you, squirt,” Elsa said. She ruffled my hair, and let me in. I usually teleport into places, but I decided maybe I shouldn't show my powers around her. Don't wanna freak her out.\n\n“Well, I was in the neighborhood, and decided to show up”, I said. It was more or less true.\n\nSoon, we were reminiscing about old times. Elsa told me her fiance was doing well, and asked me whether or not I had gotten a job yet. I gave out edited responses, and I could tell she knew I was hiding something, but thankfully didn't press it.\n\nIt was weird, not using my powers. I was so used to making things appear out of thin air, immediately changing my surroundings to suit me, that just sitting down, talking to people, was weird.\n\n“Sometimes, I think about Bran,” she said. Her eyes looked sad, and I hated it. I nearly changed reality to make her smile, but it was against my code.\n\n“He was an asshole, Elsa. He called you names, and was abusive, then made you apologize for it,” I said. “He hit you. He deserved what happenned.”\n\n“Yeah, I know. But just...the way he died. Trapped under a car, underwater? It's like reality was twisting itself, just so he could die,” said Elsa. She shook her head.\n\n“Well, it let you move on to better pastures. You're happy now, right?” I said.\n\nElsa cocked her head at me, and said “You've changed ever since that trip to the temple,\" and as I raised my eyebrows, she continued \"and it's more than just the, um, gender-reassignment surgery. It's like, I dunno, you've gotten older, or more distant. Ah, who knows?”\n\nThe image of Bran's mother, crying at her son's funeral, flitted in front of my face. I waved my hand, and deleted it from my mind.\n\n“Why do you always do that hand-waving thing?” Elsa said.\n\n“Picked it up from the temple people. Anyway, I'd better get going. Wanna go get a breath of fresh air ,” I said.\n\n“Alright. Try not to get into any trouble”, said Elsa. She wrapped her arms around me, and squeezed. I hadn't realized how much I missed the feeling.\n\nI kissed her good-bye, and I walked away. Snapping my fingers, I found myself in the middle of a grassy field. Breathing in the air, I calmed my mind down. After a few minutes, I focused my mind on a specific point in space-time, and was soon teleported into a room.\n\nManu walked into the room, surprised to see me.\n\n“Where have you been? The rest of the volunteers were looking for you!” he said. By now, he should be used to me disappearing.\n\nI smiled, and said “Had to get some new supplies.”\n\n“Well, you're just in time. New hungry mouths to feed out there. Hope you don't run out,” said Manu.\n\n“I'll always have more,” I said to him, winking."
}
] |
849 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: Your main character has the ability to alter emotions. However, by doing so he/she will receive the opposite effect."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "For as long as people could remember he was considered the person to be around. Every party you went to, he was invited. Every night out, he was seated at the center of the table. Although he never hosted his own parties, or organized his own nights out, he was sure to be at any event put on by one of his numerous friends.\n\nNot that it wasn't deserved, mind you. If anybody deserved a large group of friends and fantastic parties, it was him. He just had this way about him, and everyone who had ever met him seemed to feel a very similar feeling. In fact, the first time I met him it was borderline indescribable.\n\nWe were at the same party together, and one of my friends knew him. I was led over, and at first I could care less. I was there to drink away all the stress of the week, and maybe get a little lucky with the ladies as it had been a lot longer than I was proud of. That was mostly what I was thinking of, and in fact I didn't even look him in the eyes when my name was introduced. At first anyways. He gave a firm handshake, and it was enough to get me to make eye contact for the first time. Once I did I seemed to just kind of forget about all the issues I walked into the party with. That hot girl that I probably wouldn't have a chance with disappeared from my peripheral vision, my money troubles seemed like a distant memory, and I got so focused on that moment, that handshake, and I smiled. He smiled back, though it seemed pained whenever I looked back on it.\n\nSo I got to know him better. After that handshake, I had to know the man behind it. He actually also considered me one of his better friends, possibly even his best friend. Being as close as we were, I got to tag along with him to many of the events that he frequented, and it was always the same story. Large groups of people around him, he would laugh, shake their hand or clap their back, and they would just seem to disappear into the moment.\n\nAs I got to know him on a much more personal level, I started to notice something pretty interesting. With these large groups, things were great. However, when we would be one on one, and he would start to talk about the more personal aspects of his life like the distant father or the abusive step mother, I would start to feel sad. And I mean, obviously I'm going to get sad hearing about that kind of stuff, but really sad. Just so full of pain and heartbreak that I wasn't sure I could get through the conversation. But, after dealing with that for a few minutes, it all went back to normal again. That same warmth would return, he would smile and we would share a few beers.\n\nSo that leads me to the incident last week. He was driving us both home from a party after I had had a few too many, when he spotted something in the distance. Everything felt so normal, which is now a word I don't really understand anymore. He stopped, and told me not to leave the car for my own safety. It sounds strange but I don't think he was talking about the fact that I was drunk. The man was standing on the bridge, and it looked more serious than the scenes you see on TV. This man wasn't going to hesitate, or be talked down. His mission that night was that he was going to jump off that bridge, and I saw that in his eyes for the brief second he glanced my direction.\n\nBut then my friend approached him, much more cautiously than he would approach a group at a party, and the man did hesitate. That was all that my friend needed to hold out his hand and grasp this man's who felt he was at the last seconds of his own life. A mere seconds later, though I'll admit it felt like hours, the man slowly gets down from the bridge. I am ecstatic. What happened next, however, is something I don't think I will ever understand, and yet at the same time I think I know exactly what happened. It's also the reason I was chosen to give the eulogy today, because I think I am the only one who had a chance of understanding. My friend glanced back at me, and for a brief second I saw in his eyes the exact same emotion that the man had shot at me a moment ago. The pain, it was so evident it was screaming at me. And at that exact same moment, I felt a level of happiness I could never have imagined, and I know that I will never feel that level of happiness again. And then my friend jumped off the bridge."
}
] |
899 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 800-900 words. Prompt: You are trapped in a metal corridor with no means of escape. A creature is slowly coming with the intention of killing you. You have no means of rest or using basic hygiene products like the lavatory. Your only food is a single sandwich every two miles."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "At first, I had sprinted as fast as I could away from the creature. Eventually, I was walking slow enough to keep an eye on it. The monster was bigger than me and pure muscle. But in the confined space, it had to crawl which made it slow. It's teeth were razor sharp. Its eyes glowed red.\n\nBut it was real. And real things use energy. Energy that is sustained by eating. And I was getting hungry. That's about the time that the first sandwich popped up. Big. Beautiful. A plentiful amount of tomatoes. A good balance of meat and bread. Amazing hand made mayo. It was the perfect sandwich.\n\nThat gave me a dilemma. In the battle between hunter and prey, it's normally a war of attrition. The sandwiches had enough moisture in the tomatoes to sustain my fluids. The meat had protein. The bread, carbohydrates. The sandwich was big, maybe 1000 calories. I was only burning about 100 calories a mile, and I was being given a sandwich every two. That left a surplus of over half a sandwich of unnecessary calories and weight. Unnecessary calories that I didn't want going to the monster.\n\nIt looks like they had thought of everything. I could keep carrying the sandwiches, which would add weight and wear me out. Or, I could eat the sandwiches, which would almost accomplish the same thing. I couldn't prevent the sandwiches from being left behind at some point. At 1lb per sandwich, I would only make it at most 3 days before being laden with 30+ pounds of sandwiches. I'm not weak, but I don't have that kind of stamina.\n\nRather than wait 3 days to find out what would happen if the monster got a sandwich, I had decided to give it one pretty much immediately. It had gobbled it up. So, it likes sandwiches and it wants to eat me and evidently we're all stuck down in a corridor together. I couldn't starve it to death (my original plan). I had to think of another way.\n\nI'd like to say that the idea hit me light a lightbulb. But it hadn't. More like the form of a smelly burp. My smelly burp. Full of the fresh, partly processed smells of fresh sandwich. With fresh mayo. I stopped giving the monster the leftover portion of sandwich. Instead, I held onto it. And held onto it. For almost I day I gathered sandwiches, keeping track of which one was the oldest. The monster was getting very, very hungry.\n\nMayo doesn't sit will outside of the fridge. In fact, it can become quite deadly - especially in mixed mediums. Like meat that is also outside of a fridge. And I had just given the monster four deadly sandwiches. It gobbled them right up. I continued collecting sandwiches, eating some of the fresh one and holding onto the rest of it before laying down more deadly sandwiches. I was practically juggling over a dozen sandwiches at a time.\n\nBy the middle of day two, the monster showed its first sign of problems. I'd like to point out that I had also been eating all of the tomatoes from the sandwiches. The monster had been going without fluids for over 24 hours. And it was slowing down and frothing at the mouth. The mayo finally took its toll and the monster spewed out an unworldly conglomerate of sandwich pieces and bile. I had the foresight to keep my distance; I'm not sure what bacteria live in its stomach.\n\nI was low on sleep, but I knew that if I ran for a bit I could buy myself an hour's worth of time while crawled to catch up. The monster made enough noise on the metal walls to wake me up when it got close, so I wasn't very worried about getting killed while resting. I've got to admit, that first hour of sleep was the best I'd gotten in a long time.\n\nThe metal grating woke me from my slumber. The monster was getting close. I went and took a look at it. It was breathing heavy. Its eyes didn't have the bright glow that they originally had. The teeth were dull from what must have been a whole slew of vomiting. I could almost touch survival. Another day, and I knew it would be dead.\n\nSo I had waited. And it had died. It wasn't an amazing, victorious feeling. More of a quiet loss of life. When you're alone with another living being, you oddly become attached to its presence. I walked for a bit further down the corridor by myself. I came across what would be my final sandwich, when a door opened next to me.\n\n\"Space Cadet, would you mind explaining yourself.\" It was the American General. I had heard of him, of course. This was my first time meeting him. \"Well, I volunteered for this challenge because no one had beaten it.\" It was true. There was no one else. It had appeared to be an impossible scenario, and none had escaped. I doubt the American space General had even expected me to finish alive. \"You weren't supposed to beat it. That's the point. You were supposed to go on for forever, give up, or get eaten.\"\n\nI looked at him for a bit. He looked at me. \"Want to try again? \""
}
] |
789 | first_person | [
{
"from": "human",
"value": "Write in first person and around 700-800 words. Prompt: The bottom of the stone well disappears into darkness. Air, cold and stale, rushes up from the depths. You drop in a stone, and wait with baited breath to hear the splash—too long. Too deep. As you turn, a strange sound issues from the depths of the well—a voice, pleading for help."
},
{
"from": "gpt",
"value": "The old well on the hill was the local oddity. No-one knew who made it, or even when it was made. In fact, it was said that the town was built next to the well, not the other way round. Its age, and strange location, naturally meant there was a local legend. Supposedly, a young man, down on his luck, dropped his last coin in the well, wishing to be saved.\n\nSomething inside the well accepted, and overnight he made his fortune. He had money, fame, all the attention he could possibly desire. Each year after, he would return to that well, and drop in a new coin, wishing to continue his lavish life. And each year, the thing inside accepted. But one year, it asked for something more in return. It wanted a sacrifice of blood, not metal.\n\nThe man refused, leaving it behind. And the thing inside the well waited. His life collapsed. His money, stolen. His fame, corrupted by speculation of crime. He was returned to a destitute state. In a rage, he returned to the well.\n\n\"Why did you take it away?!\"\n\n\"You weren't willing to pay the price.\"\n\nThe man grew angry, cursing the thing in the well. It laughed, reaching out at him.\n\n\"You wanted more. I wanted something in return. But you didn't give, so I will now take it.\"\n\nIt snatched him up, pulling him in. And supposedly since then, the well was dry. At night you can sometimes hear the man's cries, as he is tormented in the well.\n\nAt least, that's the legend. I never believed it. An actual wishing well? It was clearly nonsense. I reckon it was actually someone who got unlucky who committed suicide by jumping down it. Not some thing.\n\nI ventured to the well, eyeing the old stonework. It looked sturdy despite its age. The stones were laid flat, with no mortar to keep it in place. But with the size of them, it wouldn't be easy to move. As I drew closer, I saw the iron grille covering the opening. After fears of people falling in, the council had it installed. But you could still peer down into the dark depths.\n\nI idly picked up a stone, and dropped it through a gap. As it fell I kept quiet, listening out. I waited, and waited. But I didn't hear a splash or an impact. It must have been deeper then I thought. I leaned over, trying to see anything in there. The cold stale air blew over me. I shrugged, turning to leave.\n\n\"Help me...\"\n\nI whipped my head around. It sounded like someone was nearby, calling out to me. But I could see no-one atop this hill with me, and none down the side either. I was alone. I shivered, creeped out.\n\n\"Help me...\"\n\nI heard it again. It sounded slightly stronger. My eyes fell on the grille.\n\n\"Please.... Help me....\"\n\nI gasped. It had to be coming from the well. I cupped my hands over my mouth.\n\n\"Is someone there?!\"\n\nThere was a faint rushing sound, and the air seemed to be blown past me.\n\n\"Yes... please.... get me out...\"\n\nI peered down, trying to see who was there. The rushing sound grew louder, and I realised it was the sound of water. I could see faint movement, and gasped again as I saw water rise. Floating in it was a pale, man. He reached out, his arm shaking as if weighed down. I wormed my fingers into the grate.\n\n\"Oh my god, are you ok?! I'll get you out of there!\"\n\nThe water level continued to rise. His eyes seemed to sparkle with hope, as he reached for me. I was too focused on him, and it was too dark, for me to see the strange clothes he wore. He floated up, and reached further.\n\nThe water around him frothed, and splashed up. It rose into columns, that erupted through the grill. They bent impossiblly, wrapping around my upper body and pulling me down. I was unprepared, and found myself held fast against the grille. The man's face changed to one of horror.\n\n\"No....\"\n\nThe water burned, not with heat but chill. I fought against the bonds, but it was as through I were chained with steel links. I felt the sensation of water through my hair, and a stream moved down my face. It circled my mouth and nostrils. I took a hurried breath, and it struck, flowing into me.\n\nI bucked as I started drowning. The water somehow went colder, and I felt my mind being shoved from my body. A horrible laugh echoed, and I heard the things from the well's voice as my thoughts faded.\n\n\"Free.\""
}
] |
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I forgot if this dataset is the dirty version of Reddit Writing Prompts or not, it's probably a mix of both.
The data was filtered and classified using Lilac with two embedding models:
(Note: Lilac is amazing BTW, and the UI is nice. Highly recommended for data processing tasks)
The dataset has been converted to ShareGPT format, including word counts for responses and labeled perspectives. While the labeling may not be 100% accurate, ambiguous cases have been labeled separately with their perspectives excluded from the prompts.
Non-story content has been removed, though some examples may have been missed. Some non-story content was purposefully kept if it was closely related to the prompt (like relevant responses) - it's a bit hard to draw a clear line sometimes. Stories containing unwanted words or sentences were filtered based on personal preferences. Since "slop" is subjective and lacks a standardized definition, you may need to perform additional cleaning before using this dataset for training.
PS: MY MAIN ACCOUNT IS A MESS AND THE STORAGE IS FULL, SO I CREATED THIS 'ORGANIZATION' TO DUMP MY MODELS AND DATASETS
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