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whimiscal-writer · 6 months

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Remixed with my app FFFantasy, which is only one-shot prompting right now. PROMPT: You are a former vlogger. Five years ago, you interviewed someone who claimed to be the founder of a social media cult, and posted it onto YouTube. You fact-checked and did everything in your power to check their claims.The claim was a hoax, and the resulting YouTube video blew up that it drove you off the internet. You felt a chemistry with that person and would talk everyday with a growing sense of interest from both sides, but you stopped speaking to them after it got proven they were lying. You retreated to a quiet life of maintaining agricultural drones. But recently, you suspect someone is hiding in the woods behind your office... You start finding clues about who this is...

Chapter 1: Whispers Among the Trees

Silence—a commodity I had come to treasure—surrounded me as I listened to the hum of agricultural drones above the vast fields. The calm routine of maintenance and programming was my solace, far removed from the chaotic world of social media and vlogging that I once thrived in. It was a simple, meditative life, one devoid of scandal and the relentless pace of viral infamy.

That life, however, was beginning to show cracks with the suspicion that I was no longer alone. The drones weren't the only ones moving amongst the crops; shadows flitted on the periphery of my vision, and there were signs that someone, or something, was lurking in the woods behind my office.

At first, I dismissed these sensations as paranoia, the old scars of my past life making their unwelcome return. But soon, physical evidence was impossible to ignore. Footprints at the edge of the forest, so faint that I almost thought them a figment of my imagination. A scrap of material caught on a branch, torn and waving like a secret flag.

Every so often, I would stand at the edge of the woods and persuade myself to shout, to demand whoever was watching to come forward. But my voice always faltered, strangled by the fear of reopening old wounds—the fear of learning that maybe, just maybe, it was her. The woman whose lies had crafted my downfall.

I remember her eyes—sharp, mirthful, yet holding a depth that seemed genuine. Our chemistry had been undeniable, conversations stretching into the night, the buzz of anticipation when a new message from her would light up my phone. But it was all a facade. Her grand claim to be the founder of a social media cult, something I had been so eager to believe and share with the world, turned out to be nothing but a detailed, elaborate hoax.

The backlash was brutal.

Now, as the clues in the woods accumulated, I dreaded the thought that the past was catching up in the most personal and invasive way possible. She had always been a fascination I couldn't shake, with her enigmatic aura and tales that wove through truth and fiction like a dance.

Tomorrow, I would have to face this head-on. Tomorrow, I would venture into the woods and confront the mystery that seemed inexorably tied to her—the woman that had once captivated me, only to cast me aside in the merciless wake of deceit.

And so, with the sun setting behind the trees, I readied my resolve for the confrontation to come. The drones continued their patterns above, oblivious to the human drama unfolding below. Tomorrow, I would seek answers, unaware of just how deep the woods—or my own heart—might swallow me. Link to the story here

“The Purity Of The Web”

Generated in AI Dungeon 2.

[PROMPT: You are a former vlogger. Five years ago, you interviewed someone who claimed to be the founder of a social media cult. The claim was a hoax, and the resulting video was shared and mocked by a reactionary movement that drove you off the internet. You retreated to a quiet life of maintaining agricultural drones. But recently, you suspect someone is hiding in the woods behind your office — stalking you for reasons unknown.

You finish your daily drone tuneup and] prepare for bed. In the morning, you’ll have to get up early again to check on the farm. For now, though, you can just enjoy the silence.

The next day brings a new threat: A small group of men dressed in black with their faces covered enter the barn. They look around and then point at you.

“Do you know what we’re doing?” one asks.

“Uh, no?” you answer.

“We’re here to reclaim the internet. We’re going to take it back from the trolls."

"Trolls?” you ask.

“You know… lizards,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

> You ask why the men have come here.

“You have been targeted because you are a threat to the purity of the web. You are a corrupting influence that must go.”

“But I don’t even use the internet,” you say.

“That is irrelevant. The enemy of good is off the internet.”

You look over at the men’s leader. He has a pistol in his belt and a silver crucifix hanging from his neck. He looks like an antsy priest who’s ready to quit his day job.

“You don’t have to say it.”

“Say what?” you ask.

“The group of men before you are here to save the internet from off-centered individuals like you.”

> You escape from the barn.

You bolt from the barn and sprint through a field of daquit plants. The men fire at you, but their aim is wild. You make it to a second field and then a grove of trees. You see the men struggle to keep up with you.

“It took them long enough,” one says. “They should be more athletic.”

“Are you referring to me?” one of the men asks.

“Quiet! We’re almost there.”

The men continue to fire at you, although they are now missing wide swipes at you. Finally, you are out of range, and you turn to face your pursuers.

There are three of them and only one of you.

> You attack the men.

You lunge at the men and kick one staggering to the ground. But in a matter of seconds, they have recovered and are firing at you. You dive out of the line of fire and roll to your feet.

> You run into the woods. Let them come to your turf.

You turn and begin sprinting through the trees. The men give chase, but they are no longer shooting. You hear one of them shout to the others.

“He’s carrying something! Check his back pack!”

You keep running, deeper and deeper into the forest. The men give up and begin speaking to you in a regular tone of voice.

“He’s having an internal crisis. He’s lost his will to fight.”

“That’s not…” you start to say, but the men don’t let you finish.

“He doesn’t want to know what we do to people who talk. Just remember that."

"We put them in a cage and let monsters tear them apart!”

“Monster… yes. That’s a good one. Keeps him off balance.”

“He’s not following us because he wants to, he’s following us because he has to.”

> You hide and call a drone into the forest.

You hide on the ground and hope that your new friends forget to scan your back.

After a few minutes, you see movement above you. Three men emerge from the trees with drone technology strapped to their backs. They look at the trees around them and scan the area.

“Huh, he’s invisible. No wonder he’s so tough. He has help.”

“This forest is full of invisible beasts that’d tear us apart,” one says. “How does he do it?”

“Do you see any beasts?” the second man asks. “There’s nothing out here but us. No invisible beasts, no wolves, nothing. I… I can sense a monster, but it’s far away.”

“Maybe it’s a human,” the third man says. “Let’s go see.”

The men begin walking towards your position in the trees.

“Wait! Wait!” the second man says. “I can sense something else too.” He stops and turns around. “I… I think I can sense the minds of the beasts. They’re close. Really close. Most likely within that wall.”

He points to a tall, imposing wall not too far from you. It’s made out of stone and makes you think of a prison, but it’s much bigger than it needs to be to hold one person. It’s at least twenty yards tall and seventy yards long. A heavy stone door with a large, metal portcullis lays at the top. The men look at each other and move towards the wall.

“So, what do you think we’ll find in there?” the man with the drones asks.

“I don’t know. But I just thought I sensed something… human.”

“Perhaps we’ll find out. Let’s do this.”

The men begin approaching the wall. You wait a few minutes before getting up. You walk towards the men and watch as they approach the wall.

> You lock the men inside the wall.

You turn and sprint towards the men, grabbing them and flinging them at the heavy stone door of the wall. You send the stone door crashing down with a burst of psychic energy. The men scream as they are crushed by the door and you find yourself staring at your hand, which is now covered in blood.

“Wha… what the…”

You hear the men dying screams from behind the door. You drop to your knees, trying to ignore the pain in your hand. It feels like your hand is on fire, but you know that’s just the life fluid burning the ground around you. “What… what are you?” one of the men says as he struggles to get up.

> You say “Sick of running from creeps like you.”

You look at the man as the words sink in. He’s a common criminal. He’s probably killed people. You don’t know. You don’t care. You want him to know you’ll kill him if he tries anything.

“He’s a killer,” another man says. “Leave him.”

A third steps forward. “I don’t care what he did in the past. We’re all killers now. Hunt us down and we’ll fight. I promise you that.”

You let out a sigh and nod. “Fine. Better you than me.”

You turn and head away from the now collapsed gate. You’re covered in the blood of the men you killed and don’t even care.

As you walk, you pass through a hole in the wall and find yourself in a forest. The trees are bizarre, twisted, unnatural-looking; they look painful to climb and get around in.

> You log onto the internet for the first time in five years.

You walk into a small, decrepit shack on the edge of the woods. The roof is collapsed, the walls are falling down, and there’s nothing inside but a few trashy novels and a broken computer.

You look at the computer, wondering if it even works. It does.

You take a deep breath as you sit down at the keyboard. You forgot how much you enjoyed hacking into online accounts. After a few moments, you’re logged onto an online auction site. You spend an hour building your account back up and then make a small bid on a rare dog toy.

When the price goes up, you shrug and place a second bid. You keep bidding on more and more items, building up a small fortune in winnings. With that, you retire from the game. You spend the rest of the day falling down the rabbit hole of the internet, forgetting about your hunger, your tiredness, and your worries.

When the sun sets, you find yourself in a small apartment. You walk along the hallways, taking in the sights. Everything is very modern and well kept.

You come across a large playroom and step inside.

> You lie down in the playroom and contemplate the lives you’ve taken.

You lie on the carpet in the playroom as the softness soothes you. You look up at the beams of the ceiling and take a long, deep breath. You love the smell of new carpet. This will be your new room. You’ve decided. You ponder the world around you. Your only regret is that you couldn’t save more of them. But what are a few lives in exchange for your own?

#romance #ai generated #ai

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