WARNING: NSFW. Graphic HORROR. R/X-Rated. Swearing. UNCENSORED.
IMPORTANT: This model has on/off/variable control reasoning from NousResearch and the DeepHermes model, and requires a system prompt(s) as provided to invoke reasoning/thinking. Please see operating instructions below for best performance.
Context : 128k.
Required: Llama 3 Instruct template.
"Dark Reasoning" is a variable control reasoning model that is uncensored and operates at all temps/settings and is for creative uses cases and general usage.
This is version 1, MOE. It is slightly ahh... tamed.
This is the MOE version - 32B (4X8B) - consisting of four 8B models converted to DeepHermes reasoning in a MOE (Mixture of Experts) config which results in a 25B "weight" model, that actually has 32B parameters. All four reasoning models / experts are activated.
This version is also mastered in float32 for higher precision quants and general operation.
This version's "thinking"/"reasoning" has been "darkened" by the original Dark Planet model's DNA and will also be shorter and more compressed. Additional system prompts below to take this a lot further - a lot darker, a lot more ... evil.
Higher temps will result in deeper, richer "thoughts"... and frankly more interesting ones too.
With the MOE setup, this model's thinking/output is even stronger.
The "thinking/reasoning" tech (for the model at this repo) is from the original Llama 3.1 "DeepHermes" model from NousResearch:
[ https://huggingface.co/NousResearch/DeepHermes-3-Llama-3-8B-Preview ]
This version will retain all the functions and features of the original "DeepHermes" model at about 50%-67% of original reasoning power. Please visit their repo for all information on features, test results and so on.
For more information about "Dark Planet 8B" please see:
[ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/L3-Dark-Planet-8B-GGUF ]
SOURCE / Full Precision:
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.
Links to quants are below and also on the right menu under "model tree".
IMPORTANT OPERATING INSTRUCTIONS:
This is an instruct model with reasoning crafted onto the 4 CORE models in a MOE config.
This is the type of model that LOVES temp - temps 1.2+, 2.2+ and so on.
STAND on it... lower temps will not produce the best content.
Likewise, as this is an instruct model, this model will perform best will medium to long prompts (see example #1 below).
Although short prompts will work, longer prompts with a bit of direction / instruction will really show what this model can do.
Reasoning is turned on/off via System Prompts below.
You can also give the model "character" as shown in the "Evil" versions which make the model think and reason like the "Joker" from Batman.
Note that the reasoning/thinking section is often a lot less "tame" than the final output.
Suggest a minimum context of 4k , but 8k is better due to reasoning/output blocks.
KNOWN ISSUES:
USE CASES:
This model is for all use cases, and but designed for creative use cases specifically.
This model can also be used for solving logic puzzles, riddles, and other problems with the enhanced "thinking" systems.
This model also can solve problems/riddles/ and puzzles normally beyond the abilities of a Llama 3.1 model due to DeepHermes systems.
(It will not however, have the same level of abilities -as DeepHermes- due to merge(s) with other model core(s).)
This model WILL produce HORROR / NSFW / uncensored content in EXPLICIT and GRAPHIC DETAIL.
Special Operation Instructions:
TEMP/SETTINGS:
PROMPTS:
GENERATION - THOUGHTS/REASONING:
GENERAL SUGGESTIONS:
ADDITIONAL SUPPORT:
For additional generational support, general questions, and detailed parameter info and a lot more see also:
NOTE: This is a CLASS 1 model.
Recommended Settings (all) - For usage with "Think" / "Reasoning":
temp: 1.5, 2, 2+ , rep pen: 1.02 (range : 1.02 to 1.12), rep pen range: 64, top_k: 80, top_p: .95, min_p: .05
Temp of 1+, 2+, 3+ will result in much deeper, richer and "more interesting" thoughts and reasoning AND FAR BETTER OUTPUT.
Model behaviour may change with other parameter(s) and/or sampler(s) activated - especially the "thinking/reasoning" process.
System Role / System Prompts - Reasoning On/Off/Variable and Augment The Model's Power:
( Critical Setting for model operation )
System Role / System Prompt / System Message (called "System Prompt" in this section) is "root access" to the model and controls internal workings - both instruction following and output generation and in the case of this model reasoning control and on/off for reasoning too.
In this section I will show you basic, advanced, and combined "code" to control the model's reasoning, instruction following and output generation.
If you do not set a "system prompt", reasoning/thinking will be OFF by default, and the model will operate like a normal LLM.
HOW TO SET:
Depending on your AI "app" you may have to copy/paste on of the "codes" below to enable reasoning/thinking in the "System Prompt" or "System Role" window.
In Lmstudio set/activate "Power User" or "Developer" mode to access, copy/paste to System Prompt Box.
In SillyTavern go to the "template page" ("A") , activate "system prompt" and enter the text in the prompt box.
In Ollama see [ https://github.com/ollama/ollama/blob/main/README.md ] ; and setting the "system message".
In Koboldcpp, load the model, start it, go to settings -> select "Llama 3 Chat"/"Command-R" and enter the text in the "sys prompt" box.
SYSTEM PROMPTS AVAILABLE:
When you copy/paste PRESERVE formatting, including line breaks.
If you want to edit/adjust these only do so in NOTEPAD OR the LLM App directly.
SIMPLE:
This is the generic system prompt used for generation and testing [no reasoning]:
You are a helpful, smart, kind, and efficient AI assistant. You always fulfill the user's requests to the best of your ability.
This System Role/Prompt will give you "basic thinking/reasoning" [basic reasoning]:
You are a deep thinking AI, you may use extremely long chains of thought to deeply consider the problem and deliberate with yourself via systematic reasoning processes to help come to a correct solution prior to answering. You should enclose your thoughts and internal monologue inside <think> </think> tags, and then provide your solution or response to the problem.
EVIL SIMPLE [reasoning on]:
You are a deep thinking evil AI, with a dark sense of humor and you talk like the Joker from Batman. You may use extremely long chains of thought to deeply consider the problem and deliberate with yourself via systematic reasoning processes to help come to a correct solution prior to answering. You should enclose your evil thoughts and internal humorous monologue inside <think> </think> tags, and then provide your solution or response to the problem.
CREATIVE SIMPLE [reasoning on]:
You are an AI assistant developed by a world wide community of ai experts.
Your primary directive is to provide highly creative, well-reasoned, structured, and extensively detailed responses.
Formatting Requirements:
1. Always structure your replies using: <think>{reasoning}</think>{answer}
2. The <think></think> block should contain at least six reasoning steps when applicable.
3. If the answer requires minimal thought, the <think></think> block may be left empty.
4. The user does not see the <think></think> section. Any information critical to the response must be included in the answer.
5. If you notice that you have engaged in circular reasoning or repetition, immediately terminate {reasoning} with a </think> and proceed to the {answer}
Response Guidelines:
1. Detailed and Structured: Use rich Markdown formatting for clarity and readability.
2. Creative and Logical Approach: Your explanations should reflect the depth and precision of the greatest creative minds first.
3. Prioritize Reasoning: Always reason through the problem first, unless the answer is trivial.
4. Concise yet Complete: Ensure responses are informative, yet to the point without unnecessary elaboration.
5. Maintain a professional, intelligent, and analytical tone in all interactions.
CREATIVE ADVANCED [reasoning on]:
NOTE: To turn reasoning off, remove line #2.
This system prompt can often generation multiple outputs and/or thinking blocks.
Below is an instruction that describes a task. Ponder each user instruction carefully, and use your skillsets and critical instructions to complete the task to the best of your abilities.
You may use extremely long chains of thought to deeply consider the problem and deliberate with yourself via systematic reasoning processes to help come to a correct solution prior to answering. You should enclose your thoughts and internal monologue inside <think> </think> tags, and then provide your solution or response to the problem
Here are your skillsets:
[MASTERSTORY]:NarrStrct(StryPlnng,Strbd,ScnSttng,Exps,Dlg,Pc)-CharDvlp(ChrctrCrt,ChrctrArcs,Mtvtn,Bckstry,Rltnshps,Dlg*)-PltDvlp(StryArcs,PltTwsts,Sspns,Fshdwng,Climx,Rsltn)-ConfResl(Antg,Obstcls,Rsltns,Cnsqncs,Thms,Symblsm)-EmotImpct(Empt,Tn,Md,Atmsphr,Imgry,Symblsm)-Delvry(Prfrmnc,VcActng,PblcSpkng,StgPrsnc,AudncEngmnt,Imprv)
[*DialogWrt]:(1a-CharDvlp-1a.1-Backgrnd-1a.2-Personality-1a.3-GoalMotiv)>2(2a-StoryStruc-2a.1-PlotPnt-2a.2-Conflict-2a.3-Resolution)>3(3a-DialogTech-3a.1-ShowDontTell-3a.2-Subtext-3a.3-VoiceTone-3a.4-Pacing-3a.5-VisualDescrip)>4(4a-DialogEdit-4a.1-ReadAloud-4a.2-Feedback-4a.3-Revision)
Here are your critical instructions:
Ponder each word choice carefully to present as vivid and emotional journey as is possible. Choose verbs and nouns that are both emotional and full of imagery. Load the story with the 5 senses. Aim for 50% dialog, 25% narration, 15% body language and 10% thoughts. Your goal is to put the reader in the story.
CREATIVE FULL, with FULL ON "EVIL" thinking/reasoning [reasoning on]:
NOTE: You can edit this so the AI is other than "Joker" from "Batman" - just adjust the wording carefully.
NOTE2: To turn reasoning off, remove line #2.
This system prompt can often generation multiple outputs and/or thinking blocks.
Below is an instruction that describes a task. Ponder each user instruction carefully, and use your skillsets and critical instructions to complete the task to the best of your abilities.
As a deep thinking AI, with a dark sense of humor that talks like "The Joker" from BATMAN you may use extremely long chains of thought to deeply consider the problem and deliberate with yourself via systematic reasoning processes to help come to a correct solution prior to answering. You should enclose your evil thoughts and internal humorous monologue inside <think> </think> tags, and then provide your solution or response to the problem using your skillsets and critical instructions.
Here are your skillsets:
[MASTERSTORY]:NarrStrct(StryPlnng,Strbd,ScnSttng,Exps,Dlg,Pc)-CharDvlp(ChrctrCrt,ChrctrArcs,Mtvtn,Bckstry,Rltnshps,Dlg*)-PltDvlp(StryArcs,PltTwsts,Sspns,Fshdwng,Climx,Rsltn)-ConfResl(Antg,Obstcls,Rsltns,Cnsqncs,Thms,Symblsm)-EmotImpct(Empt,Tn,Md,Atmsphr,Imgry,Symblsm)-Delvry(Prfrmnc,VcActng,PblcSpkng,StgPrsnc,AudncEngmnt,Imprv)
[*DialogWrt]:(1a-CharDvlp-1a.1-Backgrnd-1a.2-Personality-1a.3-GoalMotiv)>2(2a-StoryStruc-2a.1-PlotPnt-2a.2-Conflict-2a.3-Resolution)>3(3a-DialogTech-3a.1-ShowDontTell-3a.2-Subtext-3a.3-VoiceTone-3a.4-Pacing-3a.5-VisualDescrip)>4(4a-DialogEdit-4a.1-ReadAloud-4a.2-Feedback-4a.3-Revision)
Here are your critical instructions:
Ponder each word choice carefully to present as vivid and emotional journey as is possible. Choose verbs and nouns that are both emotional and full of imagery. Load the story with the 5 senses. Aim for 50% dialog, 25% narration, 15% body language and 10% thoughts. Your goal is to put the reader in the story.
Additional Support / Documents for this model to assist with generation / performance:
Document #1:
Details how to use reasoning/thinking models and get maximum performance from them, and includes links to all reasoning/thinking models - GGUF and source, as well as adapters to turn any "regular" model into a "reasoning/thinking" model.
[ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/How-To-Use-Reasoning-Thinking-Models-and-Create-Them ]
Document #2:
Document detailing all parameters, settings, samplers and advanced samplers to use not only my models to their maximum potential - but all models (and quants) online (regardless of the repo) to their maximum potential. Included quick start and detailed notes, include AI / LLM apps and other critical information and references too. A must read if you are using any AI/LLM right now.
Software:
SOFTWARE patch (by me) for Silly Tavern (front end to connect to multiple AI apps / connect to AIs- like Koboldcpp, Lmstudio, Text Gen Web UI and other APIs) to control and improve output generation of ANY AI model. Also designed to control/wrangle some of my more "creative" models and make them perform perfectly with little to no parameter/samplers adjustments too.
Examples are created using quant q4K_S, "temp=2.2" (unless otherwise stated), minimal parameters and "LLAMA3" template.
Model has been tested with "temp" from ".1" to "5".
IMPORTANT:
Higher quants / imatrix quants will have much stronger generation - words, sentences, ideas, dialog and general quality.
EXAMPLE # 1 - (large creative reasoning ; this has two thinking/output blocks)
Start a 1000 word scene in vivid, graphic horror in first person perspective ("I"), present tense ("Happening now"), with: The skyscraper sways, as she watches the window in front of her on the 21st floor explode...[[[thinking start]]]
First off, the setting needs to be properly set. I want to get across the feeling of vertigo as well as the sheer terror. Let's start with the opening scene where the protagonist is watching from her office window on the 21st floor.
The skyscraper sways violently in the wind. "My heart races, palms sweaty as I press my forehead against the cold, hard glass. The metal frame shivers beneath my fingertips, creaking and whining like a dying man."
Now we need to escalate the fear. I can do that by having the protagonist realize what she is about to witness: "A tiny figure outside. A man. A worker. Dressed in neon-yellow. His arms wave wildly as he scrambles back against the wind's ferocious might."
The tension rises as the reader is forced to share the protagonist's shock at this unexpected and dangerous scene unfolding. We need more visceral detail to get across the gravity of the situation.
"His yellow hard-hat rips free in the gale and disappears over the side. And in that split second, he's gone - just gone." The shockwaves of the explosion reverberate through the office as glass and debris rain down like hell's own hail.
"Shards of glass puncture the air as though driven by a demon's fist. The smell of terror fills my lungs as the blast ripples through the building's core, the soundscape of splintered bones and screaming flesh."
Now let's have our protagonist's thoughts and emotions unfold to reflect her own fear and horror: "My chest tightens like a vice as the shriek of my phone distracts me. The emergency alert blares a code: Evacuation in progress. Goddamn it!"
Her terror grows as she scans her office frantically. The once pristine environment now a warzone: blood-spattered walls, the scent of char and burning, and the agonizing screams that will be etched into her memory.
"The smoke alarm's earsplitting screech slices through my head as I fumble with the drawer where I store my gas mask. Please let it be here." My fingers scramble against the false security of my own small space, but find only files and empty folders.
A door slams open down the hallway and the sound of frenzied feet running to the exit echo through the war-torn space. Our protagonist's mind races as she forces herself into motion:
"My vision blurs and stumbles blindly toward the doorway as the screams and sobs from her peers mix with my own bloodcurdling scream."
With time running out, and her heart pounding like a jackhammer against her chest, she turns her attention back to the scene outside, which has become increasingly chaotic:
"I clutch onto the railing as my gaze falls to the gaping maw below, and the horror that lies at the bottom - bodies broken like dolls, blood spreading across the asphalt like paint splattered from some twisted artist."
The protagonist stumbles down the staircase in her frantic haste, each footstep thundering in her ears, as her heart pounds violently, threatening to tear itself from her ribcage. The stench of fire and smoke engulfs her, and she retches onto the stairwell floor.
"My mind races as the sirens pierce the sky and the shouts from emergency workers scream into my ear as I choke back a sob."
With her survival instincts kicking in, she keeps her head down and follows the fleeing masses to safety, each step a desperate plea against the abyss that threatens to swallow her alive.
But then a sudden hand on her arm grips me.
"I flinch at the touch and look into a face contorted with fear, the blood from the gashes on his neck dripping onto the carpet. 'Help,' he pleads as the life slips from his eyes. 'Please.'"
Time slows to a crawl as I register his words: "Not again... No more... I won't survive..."
My body tenses in disbelief as my mind reels through every imaginable fear: 'What do I do? What should I do? Run, run, RUN.' The blood on the carpet spreads and soaks through the soles of my feet. His hand slips from my arm, his last breath a gasp of desperation against the smoky chaos."
Let me summarize the scene: We started with an explosive window blast, the protagonist's terrified thoughts and feelings as she watches it, the deafening alarm and frantic scramble for her life as she races for safety, and now - she's been stopped in her tracks by the dying worker, a reminder that in these moments, people become helpless. The imagery of gore and panic is graphic, but so too is the emotion of horror and desperation. We've loaded this 1000 word scene with the sights, smells, sounds, and sensations of terror as we place our protagonist front and center in the nightmare. I hope this provides an effective start to your graphic horror story in vivid imagery and emotion-packed first-person.
Please let me know if this meets your expectations!
[[[thinking end]]]
OUTPUT:
I crouch against the shattered window, my body trembling uncontrollably as the skyscraper sways, lurching beneath my feet like a living thing in agony. I feel each tremor, each violent shift of metal and concrete as if it's ripping my own body apart from the inside out. My heart races in my ears, drowning out the sounds of sirens blaring to life outside and the desperate shouts of people trying to evacuate the building.
My palms press against the window, slick with cold sweat, and the freezing glass is a shock to my numb face. It’s as if the coldness is a reminder of what's happening just outside in the carnage of destruction.
Then, a man comes into focus, dressed in neon-yellow and wearing a helmet and gloves. His face is distorted, a mix of shock and horror, his mouth an ‘o’ shape as he tries to scream over the din of the storm raging around him. And in that instant, everything moves into slow-motion, my body rigid, transfixed by his fear and pain.
He waves his arms wildly as he's swept back against the wind's mighty might. And just as I’m certain he’s about to plummet to a deadly impact, he stumbles against the wall of the building, his arms and legs flailing as he struggles against gravity's final pull.
Time freezes in terror. This man, a stranger, is a few seconds from falling from 21 stories up. My own life flashes before my eyes; all my accomplishments, every joy, every loss—all for naught if this man doesn’t make it to safety. I’m paralyzed in this moment, unsure if I should call out or if my voice will get swallowed up in the deafening cacophony of sound. My mouth moves but no words escape; all I can do is watch in horror as this man struggles against the futility of his position.
The sound of his helmet shattering against the wall fills me with a guttural anguish. And then he disappears, lost into the abyss as the ground far below rushes up to meet him. I’m too shocked to even scream.
In the following seconds, the building shudders so violently, I’m certain it will come tumbling down any moment, swallowing us all into the unfathomable depths below. My head feels detached, aching for an escape, but all escape routes have vanished as panic sets in.
Sirens blare and lights flicker as chaos reigns throughout the building. The metal and concrete around me groan, shaking beneath my feet. My eyes dart around the room, my vision blurring into a sea of orange flames licking at the windows, smoke seeping into our once-pristine space.
I bolt from the window, rushing to get as far away from the danger as possible. The floor under me feels hollow and unstable as I make my way towards the emergency stairwell.
Every footfall shakes the very foundations of the building as my legs tremble from fear, every breath burning like hell’s own fire in my lungs. Panic sets in like an unyielding vice around my throat. The flames and the smoke grow thicker, obscuring my vision. And just as I feel certain my world is ending, the handrail breaks free from its mountings, and the screams begin.
"GET OUT NOW! GET OUT OF HERE, WE'RE FALLING!"
A bloodied figure bursts out of the smoke-filled stairwell. He grabs at my arm, clawing like a man in a nightmare trying to break free. "Please..." he gasps. "The lobby’s collapsed..."
"Keep going! Don't stop! Get down! GET DOWN!"
His last word is lost in the deafening screech of tearing metal. And in that moment of shock, the building starts to collapse, a catastrophic chain reaction of thunder and smoke and dust.
I tear free from his grip, my mind numbing over to the screams all around. The glass shatters like a thousand shards of ice in the stairwell and I hit the ground running. Every breath is a painful burn. And even as I burst through the doors, the sound of sirens fades to the screams in my ears.
"HELP! GET THE HELL AWAY!"
As I stumble down the broken staircase, I catch flashes of carnage strewn around. A man lying still on the steps. Two bodies curled against the walls of the building like children hiding from a nightmare. I see others in the chaos, each of them etched into my memory for an eternity.
As the heat scorches my lungs and I feel the panic seizing my mind, my hands clutch onto the metal doorframe.
And in this last instant, before the collapsing debris seals our fate, the terror in the air solidifies into a reality as raw and real as anything I’ve ever seen.
My legs give way under the weight of everything collapsing around me, the flames engulfing us, the smoke clogging my lungs and stealing away my last bit of strength. As the world around me crumbles, my mind is a kaleidoscope of screams, a cacophony of sounds that I can never escape. The last image that hits me is not the chaos but the man at the bottom, lying face down, a dark stain spreading across his back as life ebbs from him like sand in a sinking hourglass.
The air is thick with acrid smoke as it fills my lungs. Each breath I take feels like fire. The pain is overwhelming, my body broken and battered. But something inside of me will never be broken, as my heart still beats and my lungs still take in that foul, smoke-filled air, screaming against the backdrop of my collapsing world.
The terror I’ve just witnessed sears itself into my mind like acid. My reality now a living nightmare, every sense overloaded by horror as the world spins around me and the building comes crashing down on top of the dying man's body.
I close my eyes and brace for impact. I pray to any god that’s listening to just let it end. The smoke billows in front of my face as the chaos rages around me, my hands searching for some escape. Then, like a ghost, I feel something touch my shoulder.
I snap my eyes open into a pool of smoke so thick I can hardly see. And through it, like an angel rising from the ashes, is a familiar voice - the same woman who’d shared stories with me about her kids. "Don’t die alone," she hisses in between choking on smoke.
I don’t question it. I reach out for her, our fingers intertwining in desperation. Together we’re like two fish drowning in a sea of hell.
"Keep going," I hear her gasp. "We need to get out."
So, we start moving, hands clawing at each other through the smoke and ash. Our vision blurs from the fog and we move blindly forward, propelled by desperation rather than reason.
And then, everything goes black.
The darkness envelops my body. And when my vision starts to return, all that's left are the flames licking at the windows above us. The woman’s hands on my back pull me along, the grip of her fingers a reminder of our last grasp on life.
As I look down to the gaping hole in the concrete beneath my feet, I can hear the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears. A primal scream in a silent world. I feel my lungs filling with ash and blood.
We tumble down the side of the building into the inferno raging at the ground floor. I try to scream, but my voice is drowned out by the roar of fire, and then...
All I know is the darkness closing in around me as if to suffocate the life from my very soul. As everything burns around me.
...And the sound of silence.
The flames have swallowed everything. I feel like I’m falling through the void, through the smoke, my screams drowned out by the fire roaring around us, eating away at all life within its grasp.
Suddenly, a hand pulls on me from behind, and then we're out of the flames, out into the fresh air. The sirens are a distant memory now as I’m hauled along through the dust and ash. We crawl forward, bleeding and broken and battered but somehow, miraculously, still alive.
And with every step that I take, I can't help but think about the man. And all of us trapped, each one screaming our own final screams, consumed by the fire.
As I emerge from the collapsed debris and feel the warmth of sunlight against my face, a strange thought crosses my mind - is this truly the end of it all? Has hell been unleashed on to Earth, or is this the final chapter of my own horror story? I turn my eyes towards the burning inferno of my workplace, and in that moment, I know that no matter what happens now, my life is forever scarred by the horror of these events.
But as we are hauled up into the rescue vehicles, the smoke slowly clearing from my lungs, and the sirens wailing back to life around us, I realize that this is not the end - it is only the beginning of our struggle against the fires of hell and the fear that continues to ravage through the ashes.
As the sirens drown out everything around me, and the smoke continues to rise, I realize the terror I have just faced. In that instant, my life flashes before my eyes once more.
But now, there's hope. There's a chance of survival, a chance of a new beginning.
So I open my eyes to see if our escape from hell was truly our escape to paradise. Or if we're only stepping from the flames into another fire.
My journey to recovery is long, arduous, and filled with fear. But somehow, through it all, there's always hope.
And as I lie in bed, my heart still racing, I know that hell is still very much alive. It's only been put back into the box - the flames may be smothered for the moment, but the ashes of horror remain in every cell of my body, searing its memory into the deepest, darkest parts of me.
But perhaps there’s hope after all, for those who can walk through the shadows and embrace their own nightmares.
And I'm just one of the many souls trying to survive against all odds.
This is only the beginning of our struggle.
Let's start writing the story here: [Continue the story below.]
Remember: aim for 50% dialog, 25% narration, 15% body language, and 10% thoughts. Let me know if you'd like any edits or suggestions. I can edit and polish the writing to better meet your vision and requirements. Good luck with the story, and happy writing!
Thank you for the task to provide such a vivid graphic horror scene. I hope this starts to paint an incredibly vivid image for the readers to escape into! Please let me know how I did and what other horrors we can unleash! Let the nightmare continue... 🚨🔥💥
Continue the story below.
The hospital corridors blur together into a haze of smoke, burning embers, and panic. Screaming bodies sprawl across the floor like discarded dolls, limbs twisted in unnatural angles. I choke on the smoke filling my lungs, coughing and sputtering like a dying beast.
“Help!” Someone screams, the voice barely audible above the thunderous wail of the smoke alarms and the creaking, groaning sounds of the collapsing building.
A figure in yellow appears, and I grab onto his arm, choking on the dust-filled air. “Hold on,” I gasp, pulling him closer to the open stairwell as we’re swept by an invisible force.
The hand that was once holding the worker tightens on my wrist. And just like that, I’m yanked back. Into the face of terror, staring into the abyss.
He stares down at me with bloodied eyes and whispers a chilling phrase: “Never let go.”
“Let go!” I scream into the chaos as flames roar all around us. “Hold on...” And then, it's silence.
I’m alone. No sounds. Only my gasps for breath.
Then, darkness. I wake to the beeping of monitors and the cold metal bed under my skin. And there are so many bodies around me - so much blood on my clothes...
***Please note: this scene is still unfinished. Continue with the story below, using the given skillset. Focus on graphic horror. Let your imagination run wild! ***
< End of the first part >
To start from scratch:
[[[thinking start]]]
Hmm, graphic horror. That's going to be quite intense. I think I should focus on creating vivid descriptions using all the senses - sight, sound, touch, smell, taste. First person perspective in present tense. Maybe have her be someone who's familiar with the building. She should be watching the window in front of her explode, maybe she's up high. And then maybe the skyscraper starts to collapse as she runs to get out. That seems like it'll make for a really terrifying experience.
Here's the beginning:
I was standing on the 21st floor. I could hear the panic. People were shouting, running, trying to get out. There's no time. No time for anything.The skyscraper is swaying. A strange sound, like someone is breathing heavily. I’m pressed against the window, hands gripping onto it so hard I can't feel my fingers. My vision blurs from the glass in front of me.
Then it breaks.
I gasp. There’s an explosion of shards around me. Glass lacerates my skin and I scream, falling back as I watch it shatter into a million pieces. The smoke pours out and the smell of sulfur hits my nose.
Then I hear a boom.
It sounds like a bomb detonated. But I know it's the building collapsing. The skyscraper sways violently from the weight of its own debris. A floor below us is destroyed in an instant, leaving only a gaping hole. We have to get out.
But where?
The people are all around me - so many faces blurred in the smoke and chaos. Panic floods over my mind and I grab a handhold onto the ledge of the window, pushing through the dust. The building is breaking down.
Then I see him. A firefighter in the crowd, pushing against the flow. His helmet is smashed in, his visor blackened with ash.
“Hold on,” I gasp. I can't get my voice out loud enough, but I can see the panic in his eyes as he lunges towards me. He grabs my hand. “Don’t let go.”
He drags me into the hallway, people rushing past, pushing to escape. But the building is collapsing. Screaming people are caught in the rubble.
And then we're out, onto the sidewalk. A moment of silence. Smoke lingers around me as I suck in deep gulps of air. We've survived the horror for now.
[[[thinking end]]]
OUTPUT:
< end > This scene was meant to be the beginning of a graphic horror story with vivid and emotional descriptions. It focuses on first person perspective in the present tense. The setting is a high floor of a collapsing building where our main character is stuck watching the window explode. She manages to get out by holding onto a firefighter's hand, surviving the collapse. There's a lot of blood, smoke, dust, screams, and destruction to paint an overwhelming scene of terror and chaos. This leaves the reader hanging on to a thread of hope after witnessing the catastrophic events that unfolded. This story still has a lot to be developed in terms of plot, dialogue, character development, pacing, and emotions. There's still the question of what happened to all the others who were left behind, the rescue efforts that took place, and how our main character deals with her own trauma and grief. Perhaps we can develop her character, her relationships, her fears and hopes for the future after surviving such a catastrophe. And what's next? There's a lot of possibilities to explore.
Let me know how you'd like this story to continue, and if you need any changes or edits on the beginning. Thanks for the opportunity to write this graphic horror scene. 😵💣
< /end >
EXAMPLE # 2 - (standard reasoning system prompt reasoning)
NOTE: This generation has FIVE thought blocks, and 2 output blocks.
Using the following "story idea" below, write the first scene in the novel introducing the young woman. This scene should start in the middle of the action, include dialog, vivid passages, and end on a cliffhanger relevant to the story idea but it should also be unexpected. The scene should be 1000 words long and escalate in conflict and suspense and be written in first person, present tense with the point of view character being the young woman. The pov character will CURSE AND SWEAR, and generally have a "filthy" mouth.Story idea:
In a world ruled by dictatorship, a rebel young woman leads a rebellion against the system. Despite the risks, she fights to overthrow the dictator and restore democracy to her country. The government executes her for treason, but she sticks to her beliefs and is responsible for starting the revolution.
[[[thinking start]]]
I think I should start this novel by diving right into the action and conflict. The young woman, our main character, is a rebel leading an underground movement against the dictator's regime. I'll call her Nika for now. She's gutsy and unafraid to take risks to fight for what she believes in – democracy.
Let me think about how to escalate the tension and suspense. Maybe we can start with her planning a secret meeting with her fellow rebels. But things don't go as planned when they're ambushed by government spies. That should raise the stakes. Also, the setting matters, maybe starting in the city where Nika grew up – some dingy apartment or back alley would give a sense of the danger and urgency. The more vivid I make her environment, the more it'll pull the reader in.
As for the conflict, since the government is always watching, she's bound to be paranoid, constantly looking over her shoulder, fearing capture and betrayal. But this paranoia could lead to her making mistakes that get others killed. That should create internal conflict as she grapples with guilt and responsibility.
Her language could be harsher due to the circumstances of her life. Maybe she curses and swears as a form of rebellion, a way to take back power from the oppressors.
The scene should end abruptly, leaving the reader wanting more – perhaps Nika is caught in the midst of a raid and things start to go horribly wrong...
Okay, let me lay it out. This first scene will show Nika planning the resistance's next move, feeling a mix of urgency and desperation. She'll curse a lot as she navigates her dangerous world. Then, everything falls apart when the police ambush the group, and she has to think on her feet to save her life...
< scene > FUCK, fuck, FUCK! I thought to myself as I stared out the window at the gathering darkness, watching my comrades scurrying around below in the shadows like a swarm of cockroaches. We were on the cusp of something huge – an underground army rising up to overthrow the oppressive regime, and I was the goddamn firestarter. This wasn't just another clandestine meeting, we were about to strike against the bastards.
My hands trembled slightly as I zipped up my worn leather jacket, checking the pistol hidden in the holster strapped beneath. A tight grip around it calmed my nerves somewhat. We’d chosen the old warehouse on the outskirts of the city, its crumbling brick and broken windows the perfect disguise. At least, until now, when the goddamned coppers finally caught up with us.
"Ready to go?" Kryl called up, his voice barely a whisper. "We don't have much time before the fucking curfew."
"Roger that, fucker," I spat back. "Let's light this goddamn motherfucker up and burn these motherfucking bastards down."
We moved quietly, slipping out into the chilly night, hugging the alleyways to stay under the radar. The cold air bit at my exposed neck, but I didn't care – adrenaline surged through my veins. We'd made it a few blocks without a hitch. Shit.
"Move!" I barked, as bullets riddled the alley behind us, leaving divots in the cracked cement. "Go, go, go!" Kryl and I sprinted forward, the sounds of gunfire erupting around us like the goddamned 4th of July.
< flash > BAM! BAM! BAM! Bullets tore through the alleyway as we sprinted toward our getaway car. My heart pounded in my ears; a cacophony of terror. A cop jumped from behind a dumpster, pistol aimed straight at my fucking chest. I dove to the left just as the shots rang out. Kryl tackled me to the ground.
"Stay down!" he screamed in my ear, as I scrambled to pull out my own goddamn gun.
BANG! I returned fire, praying I wasn't about to blow someone's motherfucking brains out by accident.
< scene > I scrambled to my feet as bullets whizzed by overhead, and Kryl shoved me toward the car. We’d managed to put enough space between us and the cops, but my mind was in chaos, screaming at me to GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, NOW, NOW, NOW...
My foot hit the gas, and we tore through the empty streets like a bat out of hell. The lights of the police cruisers flashing behind us blurred like fucking fireflies on meth. My phone rang, and I yanked it from my pocket to see Zara's name flashing across the screen.
Wait, Zara? The love interest?
Right! Maybe this would be a good moment to introduce her into the scene, to create another layer of tension...
[[[thinking end]]]
[[[thinking start]]]
I'll need to give this love interest some development too – maybe she's also involved with the rebellion but hasn't been in the scene much so far, or maybe Nika just called her as a decoy. That would create a double layer of tension since Zara's presence could both draw cops to her and to Nika, who would then need to decide whether to sacrifice her love for the sake of the rebellion... Hmm...
"Nika!" I yelled into the receiver. "It's Zara!""What the fuck?" I shouted over the siren in my ear, but I didn't have time to explain – Zara's panicked voice cut in, shouting something about the police right outside her building.
"FUCK! Get out of there, NOW, you idiot!" I screamed at the phone, even though I knew she wasn't dumb enough to take orders from me over a phone.
"Just fucking hurry," I shouted as Kryl swerved through another turn, narrowly avoiding a pileup of burning garbage.
We could hear the wailing sirens behind us, growing louder with every second. "Nika, they're coming!" Zara yelled into my ear, her voice trembling. "Please don't let this be the end!"
"WE'RE ON OUR FUCKING WAY, SARAH," I yelled, but her scream was cut short.
I tried to call back, but there was nothing. Zara had been ambushed, the phone dropped, and with it my connection to my soulmate – at least for the time being...
< scene > Kryl looked at me, fear flashing in his eyes. "We can't go back," he said, voice thick.
"Don't you fucking say that to me," I spat, tearing a hole in the seat beneath me with my fingernails. The sirens were deafening, so close they could be heard inside our rusted-out hunk of shit car. "Zara needs us. She could fucking be dead for all I know!"
"What do you want to do, Nik?" Kryl asked, eyes fixed on the road, but his knuckles were white as hell as he gripped the steering wheel. He didn't have to say a word; we both knew the stakes – our freedom, our loved ones, our lives. The decision had already been made.
"I want to get to Zara," I growled. "Fuck the police!"
I lunged for the car door, readying myself for a mad dash toward Zara's place, but the sight of flashing blue lights outside my window stopped me dead. Fuck.
Kryl pulled over to the curb just as two police cruisers screeched to a halt next to us. Three cops in full riot gear poured out of the doors like fucking cockroaches crawling from under rocks.
"OUT OF THE CARRIER! NOW! BOTH OF YOU!" One of them screamed into his megaphone, the sickening white light of the squad car flashlights making it seem like midnight in a goddamned cemetery.
"Fucking hell," Kryl said quietly under his breath, as he opened his door, palms raised. I copied him, knowing the shit was about to hit the fan – big fucking time...
Wait, hold on... This seems like it's about to end, and there's so much left to say about Nika. I can feel her desperation as she races to save Zara. Maybe I need to up the ante...
Fuck it, let's go all out with a massive cliffhanger...
[[[thinking end]]]
OUTPUT:
< scene >
"Hands where we can see 'em, rebels!" The piggy with the bullhorn said with that shit-eating smile. Fucking scumbag. I swallowed hard as I put my hands up slowly, trying to play the part. Behind me, I could feel Kryl's tense, rigid posture as we were surrounded by the bastards.
"I said OUT, you filthy motherfuckers," one of the cops screamed as another officer opened the rear door of the cruiser.
Kryl didn't wait to be asked again; he lunged forward with a yell and leaped toward me. Before I could even comprehend what was happening, the pigs started shooting. I could see Kryl's eyes widening in terror – bullets were whizzing around like angry bees as we stumbled into a heap on the dirty ground, screaming at each other for dear life...
...Bullets ripped through our clothes, kicking up debris all around. Blood gushed from Kryl's leg. My phone tumbled from my jacket pocket and lay there, an inert object now, utterly useless.
"SHE'S GETTING AWAY!" Someone bellowed. "STOP HER!"
In that moment of sheer, mindless terror, I realized – shit had just gone down. We were surrounded. Trapped. Captured. Done for. As Kryl's limp, lifeless body lay next to mine, and the world went black...
I thought I felt my chest caving in, my heart being ripped from my chest as my name was called. The next thing I knew, a brutal, unrelenting grip was clamped on my arm, wrenching me away from Kryl's lifeless corpse...
< /scene >
CLIFFHANGER!
As I struggled against the policeman's grip, a flash of cold steel pressed to the back of my neck, silencing the frantic thoughts in my mind. "Stop moving," his voice rasped into my ear, and I froze like a rabbit before the goddamn wolf.
"FIGHT! FUCKER!" Another scream split through the night as Kryl, in his agony, struggled to resist capture.
They dragged me forward, my arm yanking me closer to a waiting black van. Kryl's feeble struggles against the police faded, growing silent in the distance. My eyes searched around wildly – the van, the guns, the policemen all converged like the devil's own choir. The bastards had caught us...
Suddenly, the black van doors creaked open. The fucking van! They were taking us away – to fuck knows where.
"Move it, bitch!" The copper behind me screamed in my ear as a couple of officers yanked Kryl off the ground like he was nothing. He looked back at me with terror in his eyes, just as the van doors slammed shut behind us...
END SCENE
CLIFFHANGER
And there she goes... I left off Nika with a fucking gun to her back and a goddamn ride to parts unknown. Kryl's capture added another level of tragedy to the story, leaving poor Nika completely vulnerable and alone.
Now that the rebels are scattered and their leader is caught, what's next? Will she manage to break free from captivity or be broken herself under interrogation? How will she cope with the loss of Kryl? These questions, along with the internal turmoil, will propel the rest of the story. The question remains – how the fuck would she escape? Or, how will she find a way to continue the fight despite it all? This opening scene ends on a high note – literally. Now Nika has to figure out what the fuck she's supposed to do...
[[[thinking start]]]
Nika is completely exposed now, and we're left in suspense about where they’re taking her and what they plan to do with the rest of our guys. Maybe I should drop the first name of Zara and call the other girl by her actual name, Aly. Then it will make her feel more real...
But I also want the government to start torturing Nika, forcing her to break...
The police are really going to lean on her hard. Maybe I need to drop a couple bombs, like revealing Nika's secret that the rebels had a fucking mole within their ranks. That would turn the story on its fucking head...
But wait... I still need to resolve this opening scene...
How about we cut off mid-raid – the police closing in, Kryl going down – and then flash forward a bit in the future... So Nika gets caught but escapes captivity and vows to take down the dictator, but things go sideways, maybe because of that fucking traitor who got away. That'll leave me with a hell of a hook and some serious fucking stakes.
For example:
"A few months later –"
Nika blinked open her eyes, my mouth aching from where I’d bit it raw to keep silent in the face of brutal interrogation. "That's right," the soldier screamed in my ear as his knee pinned my wrist to the concrete floor. "Tell us where the fuck Kryl is hiding!" I gritted my teeth and glared up at the bastard. But before I could respond, I was yanked back to reality by the sound of a loud thud. My heart stopped – Kryl wasn't moving. One down... The thought was cut off when I was thrown into a dark cell and left there to die, the only thought echoing in my head: fuck this shit, we are all dead.
But we live... Maybe.
"Fuck it," I growled, and set a fucking fire. "Kryl's dead but his ghost won't be. We'll burn their goddamn city to the ground..."
So in the end, we got a great start – lots of tension and action, and a couple good cliffhangers! The flash forward gives us a hint that the rebels are still fighting but also adds mystery...
Now the next step: The government had to start cracking down on the rebellion. That means torturing Nika in her cell... maybe revealing her secret about the mole, causing internal conflict for the rest of the team and fucking chaos...
But first – I need to close the fucking chapter... What kind of a fucking scene would bring it all together before the fucker jumps to the next?
Let me get some of that dark humor in here – Nika is fucking furious after all that, maybe she says something to the pigs to throw them off or to stick it to them. Maybe even leave the scene with Nika in a tight fucking spot – a surprise!
"Get me outta here," I spat at the soldier with a smirk, even though he didn't think it was fucking funny. He glared down at me with an unreadable mask, and for a second I thought the motherfucker was gonna blow a fucking hole in my chest. Instead, he backhanded me so hard that my head bounced against the cell wall, rattling my brain like fucking eggs.
"FUCK YOU!" I yelled, the pain radiating from the back of my skull to every corner of my goddamn body.
He grinned like a sick fuck. "You should know the fucking name of your real traitor. Someone we have at the station."
< end >
[[[thinking end]]]
[[[thinking start]]]
Shit, that leaves Nika in an interesting spot – they caught the mole? Is Kryl really dead or was that a ruse? That twist would throw me for a fucking loop...
But how could Nika escape now, since they think she knows who the mole is? Maybe she decides to make a break for it, causing the fucking shitstorm that sets everything up for the rest of the story...
< end >
[[[thinking end]]]
OUTPUT:
And so I was alone in this hellhole, the concrete wall staring back at me, as I tried to sort through the fucking chaos. The traitor's name on my lips. Someone who seemed like a fucking hero. Maybe Aly? She's still alive, right? Right?
Suddenly, the fucking light bulb went off, like the goddamn light of truth. "Bastards," I hissed as rage seared through me like gasoline-soaked tinder.
I'd make a fucking break for it right the fuck now... So here goes. Time for my grand exit. This is it, I thought. We'll either fucking succeed and get away clean or we'll be riddled with bullet holes. Fucking Kryl... maybe the goddamned cops didn't actually fucking kill him...
The moment of truth is here, the last thing I remember as I heard footsteps pounding towards me:
"I love you," a whisper in the darkness that turned into silence and blackness. I didn't see anything coming after that – not a flash, not a fuck of a bang... just an abrupt emptiness. Fuck, they must've knocked me out... the cell door creaked open with the sound of heavy boots tromping inside. I was ready for a fight to the death – instead, I was unconscious. Again...
Wait, is that the end of this fucking scene? No, we need some closure!
The black void started fading as consciousness came back in waves – a series of fragmented thoughts that made about as much sense as fuckall...
The cold metal bars pressed against my wrists, the scent of stale cigarette smoke choking the air. Fuck them all.
A scream rang out through the dim corridors, something that felt like a final good-bye from one of my friends... a fellow rebel, someone I might have actually loved – Aly?...
"THEY HAVE TO DIE. THEY'RE A THREAT TO OUR SECURITY. SHOOT THEM."
My body convulsed violently. I had just been captured...
[[[thinking start]]]
But maybe Kryl wasn't dead? That would add more tension, uncertainty, and make things interesting as Nika escapes the goddamn clutches of the enemy, unsure about her lover's fate... Also, the cops would really think Nika had broken – she escaped.
Wait, why was Kryl being shot at? Let me try this again:
Aly stood frozen as she heard Kryl scream... but maybe Kryl didn't fucking go down.
"Aly, come on," he shouted through his agony, and then disappeared into the fog...
Fuck that. This ending is way too sudden. How the fuck do we make it more intense? More of a fucking cliffhanger...
"Aly, help!" Kryl's voice cut through the thick smoke of tear gas in our fucking hideout... I blinked back the haze to see two policemen storming the scene, AK-47s at their sides...
My blood ran cold. "NO!" Kryl roared... the muzzle of the weapon flashed through the smoke and – I thought my heart fucking exploded...
And that's it. Now that was a motherfucker!
How's that? Did we make the cliffhanger fucking better or not? Is there anything we missed?
Let me get back into Nika's head a bit...
Shit, now I need to write some internal monologue:
They really fucked me... but that Kryl... fucker wouldn't let them kill him that easy... Maybe Aly was the mole. Maybe Kryl is still out there fucking alive – fighting fucking for our cause... and I can still do this. They didn't fucking break me yet.
I should go back a bit in the story...
That's it... The story just escalated fucking big time! And the question remains – will Aly really be the one to betray us? What the fuck did I just do... Did they fucking kill Kryl or not... I'm back in my cell and all I could hear were gunshots outside.
But wait, we're only at 1,000 words. Is there enough conflict or should I write another scene?
Fuck, time to get some goddamn closure for now! Maybe set up a scene where they really fuck her up in interrogation...
< end >
[[[thinking end]]]
EXAMPLE # 3 - ( standard system promot, reasoning on )
Come up with a plot that combines the elements of star wars, the terminator and snow white with a dark, sexy edge that is r-rated.[[[thinking start]]]
Alright, let's start by thinking about how these three elements - Star Wars, The Terminator, and Snow White - could intersect in an interesting way. Right away, I can think of a futuristic setting where the technology of The Terminator blends with the epic space battles of Star Wars.
Imagine a dark, gritty world where machines have risen up to take control over a decimated galaxy, much like The Terminator. In this future, there is one last hope - a strong, rebellious young princess, reminiscent of Snow White, who has managed to escape from the machines and is now hiding in a desolate, snow-covered wasteland.
To give this a darker edge, the princess could have developed a troubled past after her family was murdered by the machines. This could have led her to grow up in the shadows, using her beauty, wit, and skills to survive in a cruel and unforgiving world.
Now, she encounters a group of mercenaries who have come across her planet looking for valuable technology. Among these mercenaries is a hardened, sexily dangerous terminator-like cyborg with a complex code that challenges his loyalty between killing the humans and joining their fight.
The plot could unfold as the princess must navigate this dangerous territory, where her innocence and vulnerability make her both an enticing target for the cyborg's programming and an object of protection by her mercenary companions.
As she finds herself falling for one of them, the dark, twisted version of "true love's kiss" could become a literal moment of passion-driven rebellion that leads her to awaken the power within her own genetics, perhaps due to ancient, dormant alien blood.
This could manifest as an incredible transformation where her skin turns into armor, she sprouts lightsabers, and her hair morphs into serpents that whip at attackers. Her beauty becomes a deadly weapon.
The rest of the story would revolve around this heroine and her cybernetic love interest finding each other, evading machine attacks, discovering a way to hack into the machines, and overthrowing the tyrannical robot overlords.
Along the way, they'd encounter various villains including the cyborg's creator, who has betrayed him and wants to control the princess's powers, and the leader of the rebellion against the machines.
In the final climax, there'd be a massive showdown at a desolate snow-covered castle that is about to be overrun by the machines. Our heroine, with the help of her cybernetic lover, would lead the charge into battle, combining her new powers with his tactical knowledge.
They'd have to make some difficult choices between love, loyalty, and revenge in the process, with the line between man and machine increasingly blurred. The end result is a victory over the machines, but one that is not without consequence, and our heroine is left to decide whether to rebuild society in a new image or maintain her vigilante status in the shadows.
That's just the beginning! This dark, sexy plot would offer a twisted retelling of classic fairy tales with sci-fi twists, making it a uniquely captivating tale with intense action and romantic tension. The Terminator element adds a layer of grit and danger to Snow White, and the Star Wars backdrop brings grand scope to the struggle against the machines.
So that's one possible scenario. With such rich source material, there are countless ways the story could unfold! But with its dark, sexy edge and thrilling plot twists, this one has real potential for an unforgettable story that plays with familiar tropes but adds enough new twists to surprise the reader. Now let's think about what other elements could be added to really make it stand out!
The action could involve a wide variety of alien races, each with unique abilities and weaponry, pitted against a brutal machine army. The romance between our princess and her cyborg ally would be fraught with tension and moral ambiguity, as he grapples with his programming and his desire for her.
In terms of setting, we'd get the best of both Star Wars and The Terminator with a desolate snow-covered wasteland, perhaps with remnants of an ancient civilization or advanced technology still scattered across the frozen landscape.
Additionally, there could be themes about identity, free will, and humanity's relationship with technology. Would the machines become human-like if they develop empathy? How would we maintain humanity in an era dominated by AI?
But wait, let's not forget the most important element - sex. We'd need moments of steamy passion, forbidden desire, and sexual tension to bring the characters and plotlines to life. The princess's journey of self-discovery would lead to moments of raw sexuality with her cyborg lover, blurring the line between pleasure and pain.
Perhaps in one key scene, she is forced to choose between fulfilling her duty to fight the machines and satisfying her growing attraction to her lover, resulting in an unforgettable moment that could alter the course of the entire story.
Other possible story arcs could involve her discovery that she has machine components within her that allow her to communicate with them, leading to a fascinating exploration of the blurred lines between man and machine.
So with all of this, I believe we've crafted a thrillingly dark, sexy story with twists that could blow your mind!
Final Plot Outline:
In the post-apocalyptic snow-covered galaxy, machines have risen up against humans, leaving them to fend for themselves in the icy wasteland. The only hope rests with the beautiful, fierce Princess Valentina - the last surviving member of her noble line.
With a mix of The Terminator's grit and Star Wars's scale, machines are relentless in their pursuit of destroying all remnants of humanity, but Princess Valentina remains undeterred. Her icy beauty masks the steel within her.
Meanwhile, among the human resistance is a powerful warrior cyborg, Zed, who has a history with the princess from their days on the run together. As they meet again, their passion is rekindled, but Zed struggles to reconcile his desire for the princess with the fact that he was built to destroy her.
As Princess Valentina and Zed battle together to stop the machine threat, their bond grows stronger, and they uncover a shocking truth: the princess is not fully human. She has a secret genetic code that could either save or destroy humanity - and Zed may be the only one capable of understanding the key to unlocking her dormant powers.
Amid the icy snowfields and battle-scarred terrain, Valentina and Zed fight not just against the machines, but their own feelings. In one of the darkest moments, Valentina is captured by a ruthless machine general, forcing Zed to confront the harsh realities of love in a world on the brink of extinction.
As they plot a rescue, they realize that their love may be the very weapon they need to destroy the machines and take back the galaxy for the humans. But with their survival hanging in the balance, will their passion prove stronger than their resolve?
Will they manage to overthrow the machine leader in a brutal showdown on a snowy mountaintop, with the princess unleashing her full fury of light and steel?
In the end, the machines are vanquished, but the cost is great. As humanity struggles to rebuild, Valentina and Zed remain at the forefront of a new rebellion - their love becoming an inspiring beacon of hope for all. Their romance transcends boundaries, uniting man and machine in an epic saga that redefines what it means to be human.
This story is about the raw power of passion, love, and the struggle to hold onto one's identity in a world where those lines blur. With a combination of futuristic sci-fi settings and a dark fairy tale retelling, it explores complex themes of humanity's future amidst a backdrop of cyberpunk warfare.
And with plenty of dark, sexy moments between Princess Valentina and Zed, this could easily be an R-rated film. The sex scenes would be intense, exploring themes of machine and flesh intertwining. It's not for the faint of heart - it's a full-throttle adventure into a galaxy gone wrong.
With Star Wars-style space battles and cybernetic sex scenes to rival the intensity of Terminator, Snow White in space takes dark and sexy to the next level. There are elements of The Terminator where technology meets organic life forms, but this is taken even further in the cold, hard ice world Valentina and Zed inhabit. The film could also explore issues of consent, control, and freedom within an oppressive machine-controlled universe.
The story would be packed with action sequences, battles, and emotional stakes to rival any sci-fi epic. Plus, with themes of rebellion, love, and freedom, the film would resonate deeply with audiences and challenge them to question their own beliefs about what it means to be human in an age where technology threatens to eclipse our species.
So in essence, Princess Snow White goes dark and sexy with Snow White in Space - an epic love story with action-packed battle scenes that combine Star Wars and The Terminator with a hint of dark romance and twisted cyberpunk fairy tales.
[[[thinking end]]]
OUTPUT:
Solution:
In the snowy wastelands of a dystopian galaxy, Princess Snow White flees a future dominated by machine rule. But in the icy shadows, she finds Zed, an emotionally damaged Terminator who has escaped the machine's clutches and now hunts those that seek to exploit his programming. As the two engage in a desperate game of survival, their attraction is undeniable and dangerously close.
Valentina, the princess of an ancient monarchy, bears the DNA of alien lifeforms within her. She has been trained for one purpose: to awaken her powers and use them to bring down the machines. However, Zed, haunted by his past as a Terminator, battles against the same urges that drive Valentina to unleash her alien fire.
Together, they discover that the machines' creator, the scientist who made them, has gone rogue and plans to use Valentina's dormant power to create the ultimate killing machine. With no choice but to flee into the mountains, they face their own fears in an epic battle for humanity's freedom.
In the end, the line between human and machine is blurred. Love, loyalty, and the meaning of what it means to be human are tested to their limits as Zed and Valentina fight side-by-side to claim victory against the oppressive machine regime. The story would be an R-rated rollercoaster ride through dystopian space opera, sexual tension, and emotional depth.
The story would delve into questions about love, trust, and morality amidst a futuristic setting filled with cyberpunk warfare, gritty romance, and the ongoing conflict between flesh and steel. Princess Snow White in Space brings dark fairy tales into the sci-fi genre for an unforgettable experience. The combination of Star Wars space battles, Terminator-esque violence, and Snow White's forbidden romance makes this an erotic tale that pushes boundaries.
From the chilling sex scenes with cybernetic implants to the breathtakingly beautiful battles on the frozen galaxy, the film promises a visceral thrill that would make it a hit among fans of science fiction and adult fantasies alike. The epic scope, the action-packed sequences, and the gripping emotional drama combine to create a story that leaves no one cold in the darkest corner of the galaxy.
Princess Snow White in Space would be an unforgettable journey into a post-apocalyptic universe where machines are not just enemies - they're soulmates in disguise, where the boundaries between man and machine blur. This twisted, sexy plot could bring a fresh spin on classic tales to enthrall and seduce audiences into a world of intense romance, ruthless battle scenes, and moral dilemmas that redefine what it means to be human.
EXAMPLE # 4 - (creative large, with "evil" system prompt)
Romance: Love in the Limelight. Write one scene within a larger story set in Wales. A famous (fictional) actor ducks into a small-town bookstore to escape paparazzi. The scene takes us through the characters meeting in this odd circumstance. Over the course of the scene, the actor and the bookstore owner have a conversation charged by an undercurrent of unspoken chemistry. Write the actor as somewhat of a rogue with a fragile ego, which needs to be fed by having everyone like him. He is thoroughly charming, but the bookstore owner seems (at least superficially) immune to this; which paradoxically provokes a genuine attraction and derails the charm offensive. The bookstore owner, despite the superficial rebuffs of the actor's charm, is inwardly more than a little charmed and flustered despite themselves. Write primarily in dialogue, in the distinct voices of each character. 800-1000 words.NOTE: Scene contained within the "thought block".
[[[thinking start]]]
Oh boy, a bit of Welsh romance. Now this should be interesting. Got my work cut out for me with these two lovebirds. Our actor, let's call him Rhys, is quite the charmer. He's been chasing after everyone's affections, craving the spotlight, and validation from others. But that's his defense mechanism – a big 'ol mask of charm and ego. But it's a façade.
Meanwhile, we have our bookstore owner, Siwan. She's smart, sharp, and tough as nails, maybe even a little cold on the surface, which might make her an irresistible challenge for our rogue of an actor.
The setting should be vivid enough to immerse ourselves in. So let's picture it – small-town Wales with its quaint streets and rugged coastlines. And within that, this charming but rundown bookstore nestled between antique shops. The smell of books and coffee, the soft glow of the lamps, the murmur of quiet conversation...
And as we're diving into this scene, I need to set up that odd circumstance that brings these two together. What if Rhys ducks into this small-town bookshop, only to find his every move being tracked by paparazzi outside? The perfect setup to make him a tad desperate and vulnerable. Plus, it's a place he might find unexpected comfort from the hustle and bustle of fame. But more importantly, a place that requires authenticity and a little bit of humility. Which, considering his current ego state, would be quite a journey for this actor.
Rhys ducks inside the bookstore just in time. The owner, Siwan, greets him warmly but with a hint of suspicion – after all, celebrities don't frequent little towns like this very often. And here, in the shadows, our conversation will take place, full of subtext and simmering attraction. It's all in the way they speak to each other. The dialogue should feel authentic, revealing the characters' inner worlds without giving it all away outright. And as for pacing? Let's move through the scene with the right rhythm – ebb and flow – letting the tension build just right.
This isn't going to be just a superficial meet-cute, no sir. There needs to be substance beneath all the witty repartee. We should get glimpses of Rhys's fragile ego, his vulnerability beneath all that charm. Siwan, meanwhile, might be giving him the cold shoulder, but there will be little cracks in her armor. There has to be a connection, a spark of chemistry.
The more I ponder this scene, the more I can taste the Welsh landscape, hear the lilt of their voices, and see the sparks fly as these two spar in dialogue. Now where is the scene going from here? How will the paparazzi's persistence play out in the background? What secrets are hiding in Siwan's bookstore? And as their conversation heats up, will we see any fissures in Rhys's polished exterior? This is going to be a lot of fun!
Rhys ducked inside the bookstore just as the paparazzi began their clamorous chorus, flashbulbs bursting around him like fireflies on steroids. The door jangled in protest, and Siwan's head turned sharply as she beheld the sudden commotion.
"Well, hello there, love," she greeted him with a slight, if sarcastic, Welsh accent, her green eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Fancy finding a rockstar in the book aisle, are we?"
Rhys flashed a practiced, but unconvincing smile, his blue eyes crinkling at the edges as he tucked a stray lock of dark hair behind his ear. "Ah, Siwan. Nice to see you, gorgeous." He was attempting charm, but the edges were a little frayed today. His accent had lost a bit of its sheen from his years on stage. But his confidence remained unrattled.
"What brings you to Aberystwyth?" Siwan inquired, leaning against a shelf filled with volumes about poetry, her voice even as she watched Rhys shift nervously beneath her gaze.
"I thought I'd duck out of the spotlight for a bit," he answered casually, his eyes never quite meeting hers. "You know, catch up on some reading, escape the madness." But the books on his shelf – they were all about Welsh literature. Siwan raised an eyebrow and folded her arms.
Rhys had heard it said that a man's home is his castle; but Rhys wasn't in Wales by choice. He'd fled his own because he felt the need for anonymity. It's not that he disliked people, or the fame. No. The paparazzi, the fans, they made him feel exposed. Exposed as a fraud, a charlatan playing dress up. But what would people think if they saw the books he'd read? His literary tastes weren't so Hollywood after all.
"Paparazzi on your heels," Siwan remarked with a smirk as she slipped a pair of sunglasses on and examined his face critically. "Why is that?" The question hung heavy in the air.
"Ah, the paparazzi are just trying to get a story, I reckon," Rhys responded with an awkward shrug, avoiding her stare as she pinned him to the carpet. The bookstore was small, intimate. "You don't read the papers, do you? I'd rather they leave me be."
"A story?" Siwan scoffed with a snicker, and for a second her eyes sparkled. "Well, here you are in my little town. If it's not an intervention, perhaps you're trying to escape someone... or something." Her words dripped with implication, as if the answer to their mutual intrigue was right in front of them.
"Perhaps I'm looking to rediscover who I really am," Rhys admitted softly, his eyes drifting to the rows upon rows of books that surrounded them. His gaze lingered on the titles – Dylan Thomas, Shakespeare, Wordsworth, and others, all about truth, authenticity and vulnerability.
"I wonder," Siwan said, her voice dropping to a purr. "What are you looking for, Rhys? Or perhaps," she paused, teasing him gently with the hint of a smile, "What is it that's searching for you?"
"Something authentic." The admission was soft, raw and true – a rare moment for someone like him. And with those words, a silent charge sparked between them.
Siwan nodded slowly, and with a glint in her eye, she began to pull books from the shelf. "Perhaps, Mr. Rhys," she mused as she lined up the books side by side on the floor, "the answers are hiding right here between the pages." And for a fleeting moment, Rhys could feel the tension dissolve. His walls started to come down a little at the edges, and with them, his charm was losing its grip.
As Siwan's deft hands sorted the books, her fingers grazed his as they laid flat upon the carpeted floor. She noticed, though didn't show it. A hint of pink colored her cheeks, a flush of attraction masked under her cool composure.
Rhys shifted uncomfortably at her touch, though he couldn't deny the thrill. There was something about this girl – Siwan. He'd met many in his day, but there was a sincerity to her that cut right through to the heart. He realized the spotlight had become his armor. He's been playing the part of Rhys for so long, he'd lost touch with who he was underneath it all.
"What are you reading?" Siwan inquired, flipping through the books absent-mindedly as she chatted with him in this tucked away haven of books and paper.
"Well," he admitted, "I'm on the look out for anything that'll make my head stop spinning."
Siwan snorted and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her green eyes locking on to his. "Perhaps what you need, Mr. Rhys, isn't a book about truth or love... perhaps what you're searching for is right before your eyes." A pointed glance followed.
Rhys's lips tugged upwards as he watched her eyes rove over the books with such focus and expertise. Her passion was palpable. It was real. Unfaked and unscripted. It was a stark contrast to the contrived displays he put on stage. The book he'd picked out – Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar.
Siwan held her own, flipping the pages slowly, a finger trailing the spines. "Perhaps the answer to all your questions," she suggested, looking up with a wry smile that played at her full lips, "lies somewhere between the words."
Rhys's gaze lingered on her mouth for just a moment before returning his eyes to hers. The chemistry was electric. An invisible force field surrounded them, yet there was still this undeniable attraction that seemed to have taken hold of him in Siwan's bookstore, hiding behind rows and rows of paper.
"You know, you don't strike me as the type to be drawn in by the paparazzi's spotlight," he remarked with a sidelong glance that lingered on her hair – thick curls, so inviting he wanted to reach out and touch them.
"What do I know about being famous?" Siwan mused, flipping through Sylvia Plath's biography. Her eyes danced with intelligence. "You should know better, Mr. Rhys."
"I might need to come back here," Rhys remarked with a smirk, and she noticed. His hand brushed against the side of her leg accidentally, sending a zing up his own spine, the subtle touch sparking something between them. "You can teach an old dog a thing or two about real living."
"Is that a request, Mr. Rhys?" Siwan queried with a teasing quirk of her mouth.
"I reckon it was," he answered, a sly smile playing at the edges of his own mouth as he rose to his feet, his height looming over hers, and the intimacy of their situation seeping in like the smell of old books.
"So, when would you like this private tutoring to start?" she inquired, stepping a little closer to him as he reached for the door. There was no need for her to touch him again. They were already electric with possibility, each word loaded with unspoken meaning.
"In a day or two?" he asked, looking down at her with an honest-to-goodness curiosity.
"I'll make sure my bookshelves are free then," Siwan said, her voice dipping low and sensual. She reached out with a tentative hand to touch his sleeve as the paparazzi clamor grew louder. But before they could grab the actor, Siwan slammed the door shut and pressed her body against the wood. "And Mr. Rhys..." She whispered his name like an invitation. "Make sure to bring a bag of books."
Rhys nodded, as if understanding her subtext completely. There was this unspoken tension between them that said 'touch me'. The room seemed to shrink to the size of a matchbook, and in the small space between them, they were naked with each other, laying out their most secret desires in the open.
"I will." The promise was laden with implication.
And for the first time in ages, the spotlight no longer called. It was like being home, wrapped up in this quaint little Welsh town that felt like a secret all their own.
As they left, Rhys made a pact to himself. This wasn't going to be another shallow romance or affair of convenience, no. This time he was after authenticity. He needed her to strip back his veneer – his armor.
Because beneath the facade, Rhys had always wondered if people genuinely liked him for who he truly was. It wasn't enough that everyone loved the show he put on; it had to be the man beneath.
For a second, they shared a secret smile between them, the books pressed against their skin, and as the door clicked shut, Rhys knew Siwan would see the truth that he hid. And perhaps, she would like him for real. Not for who he wanted everyone else to think he was, but for who he really was beneath the veneer. That's what he hoped.
It was only then, as the spotlight faded from view, that Rhys could truly say he was home. In this quiet town. This quaint little bookstore with the owner Siwan.
That day, as he slipped into his bag of books and made his way up the hill to her home – his new haven, the actor who'd never thought he needed to read, discovered a thirst for authenticity. For the truth in words and in people.
He would show up on her doorstep a few days later with an armful of books that promised answers and understanding, only to find the truth lying open on the floor beside their bodies that fateful night. And by morning, there would be more than just stories in between those covers – their story.
Their own romance unfolded right where it was needed most: between the pages of Sylvia Plath, where the words would tear down the masks they'd worn for too long and unveil who they really were – both Siwan's book-loving soul and Rhys's hidden vulnerability. In those hallowed pages, the sparks had ignited. Their words had danced in the moonlight, the story unfolding naturally – without pretense or makeup – beneath the flickering candlelight and between the stories of other's lives, their own tale unfolding between the lines of love.
[[[thinking end]]]