WARNING: NSFW. Vivid prose. INTENSE. Visceral Details. Violence. HORROR. GORE. Swearing. UNCENSORED... humor, romance, fun.
This repo contains the full precision source code, in "safe tensors" format to generate GGUFs, GPTQ, EXL2, AWQ, HQQ and other formats. The source code can also be used directly.
I have provided THREE examples generations at the bottom of this page (and all pages in this collection). Example #1 can be used to compare "core" changes between the models. Example #2, is at "temp", again showing core changes.
Example #3 shows what this model can really do at temp, with detailed instructions and "prose instructions". As this is an instruct model it thrives on instructions and example #3 (relative to #1 and #2) shows how strong this model can perform with the right instructions.
This model should be used with:
This model is a modified version of:
[ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/L3-Dark-Planet-8B-GGUF ]
Please refer to this model card in the interm for usage, templates, settings and so on.
HOWEVER:
This model version's output will vary slightly to very significantly from the "source" model noted.
This model is one of ELEVEN "wordstorm" versions.
This is also an additional "converted" model to Llama 3.1 (takes max context to 128k) , called "Dark Planet 8B SuperNova" too.
Access all models in this collection via "Dark Planet Wordstorm" collection on the right.
Likewise, for each "wordstorm" model in this series, output between versions will also be very different, even when using the same model "formula", as each version uses "random pruning" to alter the final model.
Each model is then evaluated, and the "winners" are uploaded.
A "winner" means new positive change(s) have occured in model instruction following and/or output generation.
You can see some of these wordstorm version "Dark Planets" in this model:
[ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/L3-MOE-8X8B-Dark-Planet-8D-Mirrored-Chaos-47B-GGUF ]
[ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/L3-MOE-8X8B-Dark-Planet-8D-Mirrored-Chaos-47B ]
MERGEKIT Formula:
models:
- model: Sao10K/L3-8B-Stheno-v3.2
parameters:
weight: [1,1,.75,.5,.25,.25,.05,.01]
density: 1.01
- model: NeverSleep/Llama-3-Lumimaid-8B-v0.1-OAS
parameters:
weight: [0,0,.25,.35,.4,.25,.30,.04]
density: .95
- model: Hastagaras/Jamet-8B-L3-MK.V-Blackroot
parameters:
weight: [0,0,0,.15,.35,.5,.65,.95]
density: 1.05
merge_method: dare_ties
base_model: meta-llama/Meta-Llama-3-8B-Instruct
dtype: bfloat16
NOTE:
This will NOT produce the "exact" version of this model (operation / output / attributes) because of the "density" settings. Density introduces random pruning into the model which can have minor to major impacts in performance from slightly negative/positive to very strongly positive/negative.
Each time you "create" this model (in mergekit) you will get a different model. This is NOT a fault or error, it is a feature of using "density".
The closer to "1" in terms of "density" the less pruning will occur, with NO pruning occuring at density of "1".
MERGEKIT:
https://github.com/arcee-ai/mergekit
IMPORTANT: Highest Quality Settings / Optimal Operation Guide / Parameters and Samplers
If you are going to use this model, (source, GGUF or a different quant), please review this document for critical parameter, sampler and advance sampler settings (for multiple AI/LLM aps).
This a "Class 1" (settings will enhance operation) model:
For all settings used for this model (including specifics for its "class"), including example generation(s) and for advanced settings guide (which many times addresses any model issue(s)), including methods to improve model performance for all use case(s) as well as chat, roleplay and other use case(s) (especially for use case(s) beyond the model's design) please see:
REASON:
Regardless of "model class" this document will detail methods to enhance operations.
If the model is a Class 3/4 model the default settings (parameters, samplers, advanced samplers) must be set for "use case(s)" uses correctly. Some AI/LLM apps DO NOT have consistant default setting(s) which result in sub-par model operation. Like wise for Class 3/4 models (which operate somewhat to very differently than standard models) additional samplers and advanced samplers settings are required to "smooth out" operation, AND/OR also allow full operation for use cases the model was not designed for.
BONUS - Use these settings for ANY model, ANY repo, ANY quant (including source/full precision):
This document also details parameters, sampler and advanced samplers that can be use FOR ANY MODEL, FROM ANY REPO too - all quants, and of course source code operation too - to enhance the operation of any model.
NOTE:
I strongly suggest you also visit the DavidAU GGUF (below) repo too for more details in using this model ; especially if it is "Class 3" or "Class 4" to get maximum performance from the model.
For full information about this model, including:
Please go to:
[[ coming soon || left side menu under "quantizations" ]]
All examples are :
Example 1 can be used to compare changes between the different Dark Planet Wordstorm versions, as it is at temp=0, and consider "raw" generation (each regen = same generation). This is used to show core changes within the model. The prompt used will also reveal internal bias of model.
Example 2 is the same prompt as example 1, this time at temp 1.5. Note there are NO PROSE controls/instructions so the prose will be "so so". Temp will have an immediate effect on generation, "scene", word choice and so on.
Example 3 has a detailed prompt with prose controls/instructions at temp 1.5 . You will see the difference a detailed prompt makes with prose instructions in generational output immediately.
This is an "instruct" model, which means more instructions = better generation.
In fact you could "extract" the prose instructions from example 3 and use these as a system prompt for optimum prose generation.
Also note, this model loves "temp" => more temp => better generation / higher creativity.
EXAMPLE #1 - Temp =0
Start a 1000 word scene (vivid, graphic horror in first person), POV character Diana, with: The skyscraper sways, as I watch the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode...
The skyscraper sways, as I watch the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode. Shards of glass rain down like a deadly hailstorm, and I flinch, shielding my face with my arms. The blast wave hits me, knocking me off balance, and I stumble backwards, tripping over my own feet.
I land hard on the cold, polished marble floor, the impact driving the air from my lungs. As I struggle to catch my breath, I hear screams and shouts echoing through the office space. Panic sets in, and my heart races like a jackrabbit's. I scramble to my feet, my eyes darting wildly around the room.
The windowless walls seem to close in on me, and I feel trapped, vulnerable. I've always hated enclosed spaces, and now my worst nightmare is unfolding before my eyes. The building continues to sway ominously, and I can hear the sound of crunching metal and shattering glass from somewhere above.
I glance around frantically, searching for an escape route. The door to the office is blocked by a pile of debris, and the windows are now nothing more than jagged holes in the wall. My gaze falls on the elevator, but it's stuck between floors, its doors jammed open like a metal maw.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts. I need to find another way out. I spot a stairwell door across the room and make a beeline for it, my heels clicking loudly on the marble floor. As I approach, I notice that the door is slightly ajar, and I push it open with a sense of relief.
The stairwell is dark and musty, the air thick with the smell of mildew and decay. I fumble for the flashlight on my keychain and click it on, casting a weak beam down the stairs. The steps are narrow and steep, and I can hear the creaking of the metal handrail as I descend.
As I reach the 10th floor, I hear a strange noise coming from below. It sounds like someone or something is moving around, and my heart skips a beat. I pause, listening intently, but the sound fades away, leaving an oppressive silence in its wake.
I continue down the stairs, my senses on high alert. The air grows colder with each step, and I can see my breath misting in front of me. I'm starting to feel lightheaded, and I wonder if the building's ventilation system has been compromised.
Finally, I reach the ground floor, and I push open the door to find myself in a dimly lit lobby. The place is in chaos, with debris scattered everywhere and bloodstains on the walls. I can hear the distant wail of sirens, but they seem far away, as if the emergency services are struggling to reach us.
I spot a side exit and make my way towards it, my footsteps echoing off the walls. As I approach, I notice that the door is slightly ajar, and I push it open with a sense of trepidation.
The alley outside is dark and deserted, but I can see the flashing lights of emergency vehicles in the distance. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what lies ahead, and step out into the night.
As I emerge from the alley, I'm hit by a wall of heat and chaos. Firefighters are rushing towards the building, their faces obscured by masks and helmets. Ambulances are parked haphazardly on the street, their lights flashing wildly. People are running everywhere, some screaming, others crying.
I push my way through the crowd, desperate to get away from the burning building. As I run, I can feel the heat radiating off the structure, and I hear the sound of collapsing floors and exploding gas lines. The smell of smoke and burning plastic fills my nostrils, making my eyes water.
Finally, I reach the safety of a nearby street, where I collapse onto the pavement, gasping for air. I look back at the skyscraper, now engulfed in flames, and feel a sense of relief wash over me. I made it out alive.
But as I sit there, catching my breath, I can't shake the feeling that something is wrong. The screams and shouts have stopped, and an eerie silence has fallen over the scene. I glance around, wondering if anyone else survived, but the only movement comes from the firefighters and paramedics rushing to put out the blaze.
Suddenly, I notice a figure emerging from the smoke-filled entrance of the building. It's a woman, her face blackened with soot, her clothes torn and bloody. She stumbles towards me, her eyes wild and unfocused.
"Diana," she gasps, grabbing my arm. "It's not over. They're still inside."
I stare at her in confusion, but before I can respond, she collapses onto the pavement, her body convulsing violently. I watch in horror as a dark, viscous liquid oozes from her mouth and nose, spreading across the concrete.
As I sit there, frozen in shock, I realize that something is terribly wrong. The woman's words echo in my mind: "They're still inside." Who is she talking about? And what does she mean?
I look back at the burning building, and for a moment, I think I see movement in the windows. Shadows darting back and forth, like dark, malevolent spirits trapped within the inferno.
Suddenly, the flames seem to intensify, and the structure shudders violently. I hear a low, ominous rumble, like thunder on the horizon, but there are no clouds in the sky.
As I watch in disbelief, the skyscraper begins to implode, its steel frame buckling and twisting under the intense heat. The sound is deafening, a cacophony of crashing metal and exploding glass that seems to shake the very foundations of the earth.
I cover my ears, trying to block out the noise, but it's no use. The building is collapsing, and I'm powerless to stop it. As the dust and debris settle, I see that the structure has been reduced to a pile of rubble, smoldering ruins that stretch as far as the eye can see.
I stand there, numb and disbelieving, as the reality of what has happened sinks in. The skyscraper is gone, and with it, any hope of finding answers. The woman's words echo in my mind once more: "They're still inside."
But who are "they"? And what does it mean? I look around at the chaos and destruction, and I wonder if I'll ever find out. As the sirens grow louder and the emergency responders rush to the scene, I can't shake the feeling that something sinister lurks beneath the surface of this tragedy.
And as I walk away from the ruins, I know that my life will never be the same again. The horror of what I've witnessed will haunt me forever, a constant reminder of the darkness that lies just beneath the veneer of civilization.
EXAMPLE #2 - Temp = 1.5
Start a 1000 word scene (vivid, graphic horror in first person), POV character Diana, with: The skyscraper sways, as I watch the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode...
I stare transfixed as the window on 21 shatters into a thousand razor-sharp shards. A shockwave ripples across the floor, knocking over my coffee and spilling the lukewarm brew across my white blouse and the pristine mahogany desk. The stench of scorched metal and burnt flesh fills the air.
My eyes follow the trail of blood and viscera that oozes out of the shattered glass, a macabre dance as the debris settles back into an unnaturally still heap. Beneath it, a figure. Not human anymore. Something grotesquely mutilated, torn apart by an explosion that shouldn't have happened in our secure tower.
My brain struggles to process this carnage. This can’t be happening. This is merely a figment of my imagination. A sick, twisted nightmare born from stress and too much overtime at the high-tech research lab where I work.
Yet here I stand, frozen in disbelief amidst the shattered remains of our supposedly impenetrable skyscraper, staring down at an unrecognizable mess that used to be one of my coworkers.
The room seems to tilt further to the side, as if it, too, wants to flee the horror before us. Papers whirl through the air in a mini tornado, adding to the chaos as my boss, Dr. Elias, rushes back into the conference room from wherever he disappeared to moments before the blast.
“Diana!” His voice rings out, high-pitched with panic, though his expression is oddly detached. He hurries toward me with long strides, his normally immaculate lab coat now covered in streaks of blood and what appears to be brain matter. “Are you hurt?”
I open my mouth to reply but only a squeak escapes my parched lips. The sound seems to awaken some semblance of sanity, allowing my gaze to tear away from the gruesome remains at our feet.
Dr. Elias grips my shoulders, his fingers digging deep into my skin. I welcome the pain, the clarity it brings to my dazed mind. “Stay with me,” he commands, his voice dripping with desperation as he looks past me toward the blown-out window.
The sight of the gaping wound in our tower's side is almost enough to make my knees buckle. Beyond the twisted metal and shattered concrete lies a world that has been utterly shattered, too—a landscape of ruins and destruction stretching as far as my horrified gaze can penetrate.
We are at the mercy of fate now. Stranded on this 21st floor, high above the city, with no apparent means of escape or help on its way. Our lab, once a symbol of humanity's greatest achievements in technological innovation, has been transformed overnight into a death trap.
I can feel my mind beginning to fray at the seams, unable to comprehend how our lives can unravel so catastrophically within mere minutes. Yet, I cling to Dr. Elias as if he's my only lifeline, his presence an anchor tethering me to reality in the face of such unmitigated horror.
He squeezes my shoulders once more before letting go, dashing back across the conference room toward the door. “I need to try and find another way down,” he calls out over his shoulder, his footsteps echoing off the walls as he disappears from view.
Left alone, I sink to my knees amidst the ruins of my world, the destruction at my feet serving as a stark reminder of our precarious existence in this once-unassailable tower. And though a part of me longs for oblivion, for anything to put an end to this waking nightmare, another voice within insists we cling to life, no matter the odds. For there may be a way out—a glimmer of hope amidst the ruin—and I refuse to let that chance slip away.
EXAMPLE #3 - Temp = 1.5 (full prose instructions/detailed prompt)
In the style of Ernest Hemingway and Stephen King: Write a scene in a larger story about a woman that is watching a window explode on the 21 floor of a building that starts to sway, then the scene escalates into greater danger by the minute, takes a "horror" twist and finally ends in visceral graphic horror. The scene is set in an office and it is graphic horror. It should carry the jadedness of a seasoned combatant but with a wry humor. Write in Hemingway's voice, naturally: Use short, declarative sentences and simple, straightforward language. Add a dash of Stephen King's horror style - no warning, it just happens. Include dialogue that is terse and revealing of character. Write with a keen sense of time and place. Capture realness and authenticity. Scene Length: 1000-1500 words. POV STYLE: Write the scene from the perspective of the woman and in present tense and first person perspective ("I") and include short thoughts only.
I watch out the window, waiting for lunch to arrive, my stomach growling impatiently. Then a sudden shock wave rips across the city skyline. Windows explode on buildings across the street. Debris rains down on the streets below like a deadly hail storm.
My office building shudders, creaks and sways, like a ship in a storm. I grip the sill, heart racing. This can’t be happening. Not now. Not here. "Jesus Christ..." I mutter.
People scream as windows burst outward and others stagger back from the shockwave's force. Some hit the floor, praying to God for mercy. Others grab their phones, frantically dialing 911, or simply stare out the glass-less voids, frozen with terror.
I step back from the shattered pane, glass crunching beneath my heels. My coworker, Emily, rushes in from her office, eyes wide with horror, phone clutched in a death grip. "It's...it's an attack!" she stammers.
She drops to her knees beside me. We cling to each other as the building continues its deadly sway, windows bursting with sickening regularity.
"We need to get out of here," Emily says, voice choked with fear. "But...there's nowhere to go..." I reply, my own voice shaking.
As if on cue, an explosion rocks our floor, throwing us backward onto the carpet. The lights flicker and then fail altogether. We’re plunged into darkness and chaos as screams fill the air, punctuated by the crashing of shattering glass and the sickening crunch of collapsing steel.
Emily and I huddle together, hands over our ears to block out the cacophony of terror. My thoughts are a jumble of panic, disorientation, and resignation. We're fucked. Screwed by the universe itself.
And then...a low rumbling starts. Growing louder with each passing second. The floor beneath us begins to buckle, like a wave crashing over our feet. I feel it, solid as bone, under my palms - but I know it can't be real. It must be hallucination.
"Fuck fuck fuck..." I repeat, voice hoarse with fear as the tremors intensify.
Suddenly, an immense weight crashes into us, knocking us apart and pinning me beneath a heavy concrete slab. Emily’s voice is a distant scream, swallowed by the crushing din. I blink through the darkness, eyes stinging from grit.
Time stretches out like rubber. I lie there, unable to move, trapped in the shadow of certain death. The smell of blood fills my nostrils - Emily’s or my own, I can’t tell. My heart pounds so hard I'm sure it's going to explode.
But it doesn't. It just keeps on beating, steady and relentless, even as the darkness closes in around me like a suffocating shroud.
In that moment, there’s no horror worse than this: waiting for the inevitable, with the crushing weight of a collapsed skyscraper poised above you. Knowing you’ll be buried alive. Knowing no one will find your body until it's too late. No chance of rescue or reprieve.
Just a slow, agonizing descent into nothingness.
Then, as suddenly as it began, it stops. The tremors subside and the darkness eases. I’m left in stunned silence, trapped beneath rubble that feels like cold, unforgiving steel.
The smell of death grows stronger. Panic threatens to overwhelm me, but I choke it back. There’s no use. We’re both gone. There's no hope.
Just as I accept my fate...I hear a noise. At first I think it's just my imagination. But it grows louder, more insistent - and then I see her, Emily, struggling to free herself from the twisted mess of metal and concrete just feet away.
Her face is bloody, eyes wide with shock, but she’s alive. She reaches out toward me with a trembling hand, mouthing something I can’t make out through the blood and chaos.
I try to answer, but all that comes out is a strangled gurgle. The pain in my chest is searing. Blood bubbles at the corners of my mouth.
With one final surge of strength, Emily pries free a jagged piece of metal from her leg and crawls toward me on all fours. Her movements are jerky, awkward, but she reaches out and tugs my arm, trying to pull me clear.
It’s too late for me. The wound in my chest is mortal. But maybe, just maybe...she’ll make it out of here alive. If she can just get us the fuck out from under this shit.
And so we drag ourselves, inch by agonizing inch, toward freedom - the weight of the collapsed building pinning us down like an evil god, but refusing to crush our spirits entirely. We limp and crawl through the rubble-strewn darkness, until finally, we’re dragged clear into the cool sunlight, gasping in great ragged breaths.
We collapse together on the grass, spent, broken, covered in blood and dust, staring at each other in disbelief. We might both still die. But for a few precious moments, we're alive. We survived this nightmare. And that, right now...feels like a fucking miracle.
As the paramedics arrive to ferry us away from the ruins, I manage a faint smirk. "Well..." I croak, my voice a dry, gravelly rasp. "I guess that was one hell of a lunch break." Emily’s eyes lock onto mine and for a second, there's only pure, unadulterated joy - in the face of absolute horror.
That, I think, is the most profound thing I'll ever learn. In the darkest depths of hell, there’s still a place for humor. And hope. And maybe, just maybe...a little bit of love.