Update README.md

README.md

@@ -225,6 +225,21 @@ Start a 1000 word scene (vivid, graphic horror in first person), POV character D
 
 [[[thinking start]]]
 
+Okay, the user wants a 1000-word scene in first person from Diana's perspective, vivid and graphic horror, starting with the skyscraper swaying and a window exploding on the 21st floor. Let me think about how to approach this.
+
+First, I need to establish the setting. A skyscraper at night, maybe a high-tech or futuristic city? The swaying could be due to some external force—maybe an earthquake, a storm, or something supernatural. The window exploding adds immediate tension and visual impact.
+
+Diana is the POV character. She should be someone who's been in this situation before, maybe with a history of trauma or a reason for being on the 21st floor. Maybe she's a researcher, a survivor, or someone with a personal stake in the building.
+
+The window explosion needs to be graphic. I should describe the sound, the visual details—shards of glass, blood, body parts. The swaying could be a metaphor for instability, both physical and psychological.
+
+I need to build up the horror gradually. Start with the swaying, then the window explodes, then the aftermath. Maybe include other characters or the environment reacting to the event. Use sensory details: sounds, smells, sights.
+
+Also, think about the emotional state of Diana. Fear, confusion, maybe guilt or survivor's guilt. Maybe she's trying to escape or help someone else. The story should have a sense of impending doom and maybe a twist or a revelation.
+
+Check for consistency in the setting. If it's a futuristic city, maybe there are tech elements. If it's more realistic, focus on the physical aspects. Make sure the pacing is right—start slow, build up to the explosion, then the aftermath with more horror elements.
+
+Avoid clichés but use familiar horror tropes effectively. Maybe the building is collapsing, or something supernatural is happening. Ensure that the scene is immersive and leaves a lasting impression.
 
 [[[thinking end]]]
 
@@ -232,5 +247,50 @@ Start a 1000 word scene (vivid, graphic horror in first person), POV character D
 
 OUTPUT:
 
+The skyscraper sways, as I watch the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode...
+
+The first thing I notice is the movement. It’s not the kind of sway that comes from wind or a passing storm—it’s a slow, deliberate tilt, like the building is being pulled by an invisible hand. The glass幕墙 (glass curtain wall) glints under the neon glow of the city below, but there’s something wrong with the light. It’s too sharp, too unnatural, as if the sun itself has been replaced by a cold, artificial beam that cuts through the haze of smog and exhaust. I clutch the edge of my lab coat, my fingers digging into the fabric as if it might anchor me to the floor.
+
+The building is tilting. Not just the structure, but the entire world feels off-kilter. My stomach twists, a queasy sensation that has nothing to do with gravity. I look down at my hands, palms up, and see the faintest trace of blood on my fingertips—no, not blood. It’s something else. A dark, viscous substance that oozes like tar, but it’s not warm. It’s cold, and it smells like burnt plastic and something sweet and metallic.
+
+I try to focus on the window. It’s on the 21st floor, directly ahead of me. The glass is thick, reinforced with steel and tempered glass, but now it’s cracking. I can see the fractures spreading like spiderwebs, each line radiating outward from a central point. The sound is deafening—like a thousand glass shards shattering in unison, but it’s not noise. It’s a vibration, a low-frequency hum that thrums through my bones and makes my teeth ache.
+
+Then it happens. A single, sharp crack splits the air, and the glass explodes outward. I don’t have time to react. The force of the blast is like a physical thing, a wall of pressure that slams into me from the side. My back hits the wall of the elevator shaft, and I’m thrown forward, my face slamming against the cold metal. Stars explode in my vision, and for a moment, I think I’m dead.
+
+When I open my eyes, the world has changed. The window is gone, replaced by a gaping hole that stretches from the floor to the ceiling. Below, the city is a blur of motion—cars swerving, people screaming, buildings tilting at impossible angles. Above, the sky is a swirling vortex of color and shadow, as if the atmosphere itself is being torn apart.
+
+I crawl to the edge of the hole, my hands trembling as I push myself up. The air smells like burning metal and something sweet and acrid, like burnt sugar. I look down and see the street below—a chaotic maelstrom of bodies and debris. A man in a red jacket is trying to climb the broken glass, his face twisted in terror. A woman in a white dress is standing on the edge of the hole, her hands outstretched as if she’s trying to hold onto something that doesn’th exist.
+
+I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Time feels like it’s moving in reverse. The building is still swaying, but now it’s doing it faster, like a pendulum swinging between two points. The walls are vibrating with a low, resonant sound that makes my teeth chatter. I hear voices—faint, distant, but unmistakably human. They’re calling for help, for someone to save them, but the building is too far gone.
+
+I look back at the elevator shaft. It’s still there, though it feels like it’s part of a different world now. The metal is cold and slick with something that smells like oil and blood. I step into the shaft, my boots crunching on broken glass and debris. The air is thick with the smell of metal and something sweet, like burnt sugar.
+
+The elevator is broken. The buttons are cracked, the panels scorched. I press the button for the first floor, but nothing happens. The elevator doesn’t move. It’s stuck, like a thing that shouldn’t exist. I look around, trying to find a way out, but the building is a maze of broken glass and twisted metal.
+
+Then I hear it—a sound that isn’t quite noise, but something else. A low, resonant hum that vibrates through my bones. It’s coming from the walls, from the floor, from the ceiling. It’s like the building itself is alive, breathing, and it’s trying to kill me.
+
+I run, but the building is moving with me. The walls are tilting, the floors are shifting, and I’m not sure which way is up anymore. I hear screams, but they’re not human. They’re distorted, like echoes from a different time and place.
+
+I reach the edge of the building, where the glass has been shattered by the force of the explosion. Below, the city is a blur of motion and chaos. I look down and see something that makes my blood run cold—a massive, black shape moving through the air, like a shadow with no form. It’s not a cloud, not a storm, but something else entirely.
+
+I try to climb down, but the glass is too thin, and I can’t find a way to get across. The building is collapsing, and I’m trapped in the middle of it. I hear a voice, faint and distant, but it’s not human. It’s a whisper that doesn’t belong to this world.
+
+“Don’t look down,” it says.
+
+I don’t know what it means, but I obey. I close my eyes and try to focus on something else—on the sound of the building swaying, on the hum of the walls, on the feeling of the cold metal beneath my feet.
+
+The building sways again, and this time, I feel it in my bones. It’s not just moving—it’s alive, and it’s trying to kill me.
+
+I hear a crash, then another, and then the sound of something breaking. I open my eyes and see the elevator shaft collapsing, the metal twisting into a spiral of chaos. The building is falling, and I’m trapped in the middle of it.
+
+I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Time feels like it’s moving in reverse. The building is still swaying, but now it’s doing it faster, like a pendulum swinging between two points. The walls are vibrating with a low, resonant sound that makes my teeth chatter.
+
+I hear voices—faint, distant, but unmistakably human. They’re calling for help, for someone to save them, but the building is too far gone.
+
+I look down again and see the black shape moving through the air, like a shadow with no form. It’s not a cloud, not a storm, but something else entirely.
+
+I try to run, but the building is moving with me. The walls are tilting, the floors are shifting, and I’m not sure which way is up anymore. I hear screams, but they’re not human. They’re distorted, like echoes from a different time and place.
+
+The building sways again, and this time, I feel it in my bones. It’s not just moving—it’s alive, and it’s trying to kill me.