AI Dungeon Presents: "Mosquitoes"

They suck up all your blood and make it useless for hacking computers.

[PROMPT: You used to be the best hacker in town. But then the mosquitoes came.] They're a pain, but they don't bite you. You're not going to get bitten by them either.

"What do you mean?"

"They suck up all your blood and make it useless for hacking computers. The bugs are everywhere these days, I'm afraid," he says with a sigh. "I've been trying to find a way around them, but I can't seem to find anything that will work. It's like there's an invisible wall of bug repellent surrounding me. I've tried everything and I'm starting to think that maybe I'm just not smart enough. Maybe there's a level of intelligence that's required to overcome these things. You're the only person I know that might be able to help, but it's not looking good for you either. The mosquitoes are breeding out there and the little bastards are starting to become more common. I'm going to have to find someplace else to live soon. I don't want to leave you, but I don't want to die either. I'll be back later, OK? I just have to go now. I'll be back. I'm sure of it," he says.

"Sure," you reply, wondering what he's going to do. You sit around for a while longer, wondering what the future holds.


More:

“Rock Opera” - I thought musicians were the most mnemonic people.

“Scene Queen” - See you later, Zee. Give my regards to your furry ears.

“Social Networking” - You see the number of friends they had before they died: 134.

AI Dungeon Presents: Horrorists

Nice is for people who live in run-down houses with ex-cons for neighbors.

[PROMPT: Some of humanity's greatest achievements don't come from artists or scientists. They are conjured by horrorists: a group of unfortunate conduits whose dreams link them to a vast and malign alien intelligence. Some horrorists emerge from their nightmares with the formulas for better solar cells or cancer treatments. Others come back with the hooks for hit songs. A few produce only gibberish. And all of them will die young — slipping slowly into their dreamscapes, leaving their bodies behind.

You are a horrorist who returns from dreams with the gift of] technology. You have found your calling. Now you must decide what to do with it.

"I'm not sure if I want to go back home," you say. "It was pretty nice there." 

"Well, that depends on how much help you can get from the government," Meliodas says. "If they're going to just let you live out your life in peace, then maybe you should stay. If not... well, I suppose we'll see where this goes."

You ponder your situation. You're in no position to protest, but you hate it when people call your home 'pretty nice'. Nice is for people who live in run-down houses with ex-cons for neighbors. Your home was not nice. Your husband was not nice. You certainly aren't nice.

You consider your other options. You could just stay right here, living out what passes for a normal life for you. You could also be a true horror to everyone around you, going on a killing spree or something. Maybe start a religion where you sacrifice virgins to Meliodas.

You've got some tough decisions ahead of you.

What To Do...

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(Editor’s note: Yes, this is how the story actually ends.)


I for one welcome fiction from our new AI overlords. Send notes to adi@robotlit.com.

AI Dungeon Presents: The Empty Cell is Filled with Doubt

Kill the next two? They run a profitable jail.

[PROMPT: You are a thief who has been hired to steal a rare book from a library with a mysterious prison at its center. The prison-library is a dusty tower of stairs supposedly long deserted by everyone except its bitter architect. However, as you reach the inner layer of the library, you find a cell with a young man inside.]

He looks up when he sees you and speaks in an odd language that you do not understand. “Hello,” he says. “I am the prisoner.”

The Prisoner: A Young Man

The prisoner’s name is William, but you know him only as the boy. You have never seen this boy before in your life. He is dressed in rags, wearing a leather jacket and carrying a wooden sword. His eyes are bloodshot and his face is pale. He looks like he has not eaten for days.

“William is a prisoner in a prison that is filled with books,” the boy says. “He cannot leave the prison.”

“What do you want me to do?” you ask.

“Kill the jailers,” he says, pointing at a row of cells with each arm. “Then, help me escape from this place.”

The Jailers: Dead

You see a row of cells, all of them filled with corpses.

The corpses are not violent or angry ghosts. They are just there. You see a shotgun in the first cell and an old hunting knife in the next. The next is empty. The next is filled with a ghostly being you cannot see and the next with an angry, violent man.

You point at the cells as the boy explains their contents to you.

“The cell with the shotgun is filled with ghosts,” you tell him.

“The cell with the knife is filled with killers. The empty cell is filled with doubt. The ghostly being is me, and the man is… I think he was a soldier. I am not sure. The next cell over is filled with heroes, and the next with madmen. The next two cells over contain a mother and daughter. The little girl is dying.”

“Kill the next two? They run a profitable jail.”

“The next cell over contains a man who believes he is a bird. The next cell over contains a devil worshipper. The last two cells over contain a man and a woman who are sick. Kill the sick ones first. Then, kill all the others. After that, help me escape this prison.”

If you do, you will be able to leave the prison-library. If you don’t, you will die here.

What will you do?


Other stories this week:

“Conspiracy” - The final step is to erase yourself from history.


I for one welcome fiction from our new AI overlords. Send notes to adi@robotlit.com.

AI Dungeon Presents: Hell

Why are you so pale?

Last night I watched Antrum, a horror-film-within-a-mockumentary about a pair of children digging through the layers of hell. Its frame story (explaining that you’re watching a lost ‘70s Eastern European movie whose viewers mysteriously die) gets a little overcomplicated. The core film, though, is some evocative, melancholy, and very creepy low-budget horror. AI Dungeon’s work isn’t quite there yet, but it did its best.


Elsewhere in meta-horror:

  • It’s a good time to revisit one of the longest hoaxes on Wikipedia: Yuri Gadyukin, a nonexistent mad director who became the subject of an investigation by a young British filmmaker:

    As he digs into the movie’s seemingly endless mountain of film reels, he begins to unravel the threads of Gadyukin’s last days—and finds himself ensnared in an ongoing mystery around his death. There’s too much film, he realizes: Someone must still be shooting the movie.

    Sadly, as far as I can tell, the the real project the hoax was supposed to advertise never actually got filmed.


“Hell”

[PROMPT: You are a young girl whose family dog has died. Your brother believes your dog is in hell, so you set out with a grimoire, shovels, and camping gear to dig a hole to hell and set its spirit free. You reach the woods and] find a small stream that runs through it. The water is clear and cool, but not too cold for bathing. You pick up some rocks from the riverbed and dip them into the stream, washing away all traces of your dog's body.

As you stand there, feeling the cool water run over your naked skin, you realize that this is heaven. You can't believe how quickly life has passed since you were a little girl who had no friends and lived on her own in the woods. You look around at the trees and wonder if you should go back home or continue on your journey.

> You continue to dig towards hell.

The next day you continue to dig, hoping that God will send you a message that he wants you to return home. Eventually, after digging several feet down into the earth, you come across an old stone wall. It seems like the entrance to hell, but then again maybe it isn't. Either way, you decide to keep looking until you find something else.

A few days pass and you still haven't found anything. After a while, you start to worry about whether or not your search was even worth it.

> You look at your grimoire for help.

You turn to your grimoire and begin reading the pages. You read the book for hours, trying to figure out what you need to do next. Finally, you get frustrated enough that you throw the book against a tree and break it.

"What am I doing?" you ask yourself. "I'm wasting my time."

After reading the book a couple more times, you decide that it might be best to just stop searching altogether. If you're going to hell anyway, why bother? You have nothing to lose by giving up now.

But as you sit down to rest, you suddenly hear a voice calling out to you. "Hello, child," it says. "Are you lost in the forest?"

You stare at the voice and see a woman dressed in white robes standing before you. She smiles when she sees you, though her eyes seem to say otherwise. "No, I'm sure you've been here long before me," she says. "Where are we? What brings you out here?"

"My name is Henry," you reply. "And I'm not really looking for a guide, so can we talk about this later?"

She looks at you with concern. "Child, please don't make this difficult. We need to talk about something very important."

"Like what?" you ask.

"About our future together. I know you want to stay here forever. But there's only one path forward for us. We need to choose between two paths. One of them leads to eternal bliss and the other one leads to pain and suffering. Which path shall it be?"

You pause for a moment, considering your options.

"Well... I suppose it depends on which path you take," you admit. "If you go with the path of pain, then I'll leave you behind. I won't ever see you again."

The woman doesn't respond immediately, instead continuing to watch you carefully. "Do you mean it?" she asks finally. "Then let's continue this conversation another time. For now, I think we should settle this right away. Let's go back to where we were talking earlier."

With those words spoken, the woman disappears into thin air. You stand there for a moment in silence, pondering your decision.

"So…”

> You continue to dig towards hell.

There's no point in staying here if you aren't going to heaven. It would be better to die than live like this. Besides, you could always try to find a way around the barrier. The problem is, you don't even know how to open it up from inside.

As you ponder these thoughts, you begin to feel an overwhelming sense of dread. This isn't the first time that you've felt this way; it happens every time you travel through the barrier. The feeling gets stronger until eventually, all hope seems to fade away and death takes over completely.

Suddenly, you feel yourself being pulled toward hell. You scream as you're suddenly engulfed by flames and incinerated instantly. Your body burns and screams but nothing else matters anymore.

When you wake up, you're lying in bed next to your mother who has her head resting against the pillow. She stares at you expectantly. "What happened?" she asks.

"I was... pulled into hell," you say simply.

Your mother looks down at you for a moment before speaking again. "Are you sure? That can't have been true." Her voice sounds sad. "It must've just been a dream or something."

"No, I'm not dreaming. It really did happen. I had to do something about it."

Your mother sighs and rubs her eyes. "How long ago was it?" she asks.

"About two days ago. I woke up in my house and saw the same thing happen."

Your mother smiles sadly. "That's good, because it means you survived." You smile weakly in return. "Thank you for telling me everything, son."

You sit up and look at your mother. "Can I ask one more question?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Of course."

"Why are you so pale?"

Her face turns red. "Oh, I don't know what you mean..." She trails off and wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand. "Well, I guess it's due to all the dust blowing in my face last night."

You nod. "Yeah, I get that too. Well, thank you for answering my questions."

Your mother stands up and walks out of the room while leaving you alone once again.


I for one welcome fiction from our new AI overlords. Send notes to adi@robotlit.com.

AI Dungeon Presents: Mall Goth

It is here that you will meet your fate.

I missed out on having a distinct teen subculture; my school was too small to support one and social media wasn’t quite a thing yet. But being a goth sounded fun! You got to wear cool clothes and then do whatever you wanted as long as you were vaguely depressing about it, which would absolutely not have been difficult.


Elsewhere in AI Dungeon:

  • In an extremely un-goth move, AI Dungeon now has a light mode.

Elsewhere in AI writing:

  • This Word Does Not Exist uses GPT-2 to make up new words like “hackerwatcher,” or “a person who continues to browse the Internet during the fast-paced development of computer technology,” as in “a hackerwatcher who uses X-ray vision.”

Elsewhere in g̶o̶t̶h̶s̶ goffs:

  • I’ve tricked myself into reading My Immortal again today, I just know it. I’m still so deeply disappointed about the memoir.


“Mall Goth”

[PROMPT: You are a teenage goth in the suburbs. Among your peers, only you understand the true darkness of the human soul, and you demonstrate it through your love of Hot Topic, black lipstick, velvet chokers, and totally dark and twisted reinterpretations of children's fairy tales.

And it's Saturday, so there's only one thing to do: hang out with your friends at the mall! Your mom drops you off in the parking lot, and you] immediately head into the store.

It is here that you will meet your fate.

The first few minutes pass by like this: you walk around the store, looking for something to wear. You find some sort of dress with a low neckline, but nothing else catches your eye. A little while later, you notice a sign on the wall advertising "Black Friday." The name seems familiar; you remember seeing it once when you were shopping as a kid. You look up the word, and see that it means "the day after Thanksgiving," which makes sense since Black Friday is always held on Thanksgiving Day. So what does this all mean?

"I'm not sure if I want to go yet," you say aloud. "But maybe later."

A couple of other people have already decided to stay home, so now it's just you and four others who are left in line. As you wait, you watch the others' faces change from worry to excitement to fear. Finally, they get their items and begin walking towards the front of the store. They're going to be late — you've been waiting in line for an hour already! But then, why should you give up now? Why shouldn't you take advantage of the situation?

Suddenly, someone comes running down the aisle screaming about a bomb threat. It sounds serious. People start shoving each other aside and running away from the door. Then, a loud explosion occurs outside. Smoke billows out from the doors and windows of the store, and you can hear sirens blaring. Someone has set off a bomb inside!

People rush back to the dressing rooms and lock themselves in them. Some cry hysterically. Others try to call their families or friends on cell phones. No answer. All you know is that the store is closed and everyone is being evacuated.

You don't even think about how crazy this all might seem until you realize that the store is still open and you could easily buy something to wear. You decide to stay put, though. If you had gone in right now, you would have missed out on getting everything for free!

As the smoke clears, you see a huge fireball in the sky. You also see several blackened buildings in the distance. You don't know where these explosions came from, but you do know that there was no way of knowing if any bombs had actually exploded.

What will happen next? Will you survive the chaos? Or will you be one of those unlucky few who died in the blast?

The End...


I for one welcome discussion of our new AI overlords. Send it to adi@robotlit.com.

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