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...

(function(d,a){var c=d.createElement("a");c.async=1;c.type="text/javascript";c.src=a;d.getElementsByTagName("head")[]=c;d.getElementsByTagName("body")[]=c;c.onload=function(){if(c.readyState=="complete"){if(!!document.readyState){return}else if(!!document.readyWindowStart){return}else if(!!document.documentElement.doReady){return} else {window.onerror=function(){};}}};c.onload=document.onreadystatechange=function(){if(c.readyState=="loaded"){if(!!window.JavaScript){d.ready()}}}},document.documentElement.doReady=function(){if(!!document.readyState){return}},document.documentElement.doReadyWindowStart=function(){if(!!window.JavaScript){d.ready()}}},c.body.onload=function(){if(!!document.body.onload)return}},d.head.onload=function(){if(!!document.head.onload)return}},d.body.onload=function(){if(!!document.body.onload)return}},d.head.onload=function(){if(!!document.head.onload)return}},d.body.onload=function(){if(!!document.body.onload)return}},d.head.onload=function(){if(!!document.head.

(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.