license: apache-2.0
language:
- en
tags:
- creative
- creative writing
- fiction writing
- plot generation
- sub-plot generation
- fiction writing
- story generation
- scene continue
- storytelling
- fiction story
- science fiction
- romance
- all genres
- story
- writing
- vivid prosing
- vivid writing
- fiction
- roleplaying
- bfloat16
- swearing
- role play
- sillytavern
- backyard
- horror
- llama 3.1
- context 128k
- mergekit
pipeline_tag: text-generation
(quants uploading, 6 examples below)
WARNING: NSFW. Vivid prose. INTENSE. Visceral Details. Violence. Graphic HORROR. GORE. Swearing. UNCENSORED.
L3.1-RP-Hero-Dirty_Harry-8B-GGUF
It is a LLama3.1 model, max context of 128k (131,000) and is a dedicated "roleplay model" (it can also be used for creative uses).
This model has been designed to be relatively bullet proof and operates with all parameters, including temp settings from 0 to 5.
It is an extraordinary compressed model, with a very low perplexity level (lower than Meta Llama 3.1 Instruct).
This model is for any writing, fiction or roleplay activity, but it is composed of ROLE PLAY models and it primary designed for role play.
It also has stronger than average instruction following attibutes.
This is version "Dirty Harry", which has two additional versions: "InBetween" and "Big Talker".
InBetween (medium output generation on average):
[ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/L3.1-RP-Hero-InBetween-8B-GGUF ]
Big Talker (long output generation on average):
[ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/L3.1-RP-Hero-BigTalker-8B-GGUF ]
"Dirty Harry" has SHORT (average) level length output, and is uncensored (note: InBetween has a slight degree of censorship).
"Dirty Harry" also has slightly higher detail level than "InBetween", but on par with "Big Talker.
All versions are composed of top rated Role Play models.
This model, as well as the other two versions, can be used for any creative genre too.
It requires Llama3 template and/or "Command-R" template.
For roleplay settings, and apps to use this model for roleplay see the section "Highest Quality Settings..." below.
Example outputs below to show prose quality / creativity.
Model Notes:
- Detail, prose and fiction writing abilities are significantly improved.
- For more varied prose (sentence/paragraph/dialog) raise the temp and/or add more instructions in your prompt(s).
- Role-players: Careful raising temp too high as it may affect instruction following.
- This model works with rep pen of 1 or higher, 1.02+ recommended.
- If you want a specific type of prose (IE horror) add in "(vivid horror)" or "(graphic vivid horror)" (no quotes) in your prompt(s).
- This model has a neutral to negative bias BUT can be controlled by prompt/prose controls directly.
- Output length will vary however this model prefers "SHORT" outputs EVEN IF you state the size.
- For creative uses, different quants will produce slightly different output.
- Due to the high stability and compressed nature of this model, all quants will operate at above average levels.
- Source code for this model will be uploaded at separate repo shortly.
Settings, Quants and Critical Operations Notes:
Change in temp (ie, .4, .8, 1.5, 2, 3 ) will drastically alter output.
Rep pen settings will also alter output too.
This model needs "rep pen" of 1.05 or higher as lower values may cause repeat paragraph issues at end of output however LOWER rep pen values may result is very different (creative / unusual) generation too.
For role play: Rep pen of 1.02 min is suggested.
Raise/lower rep pen SLOWLY ie: 1.011, 1.012 ...
Rep pen will alter prose, word choice (lower rep pen=small words / more small word - sometimes) and creativity.
To really push the model:
Rep pen 1.05+ or lower / Temp 3+ ... be ready to stop the output because it may go and go at these strong settings.
You can also set a "hard stop" - maximum tokens generation - too to address lower rep pen settings / high creativity settings.
Longer prompts vastly increase the quality of the model's output.
GET A GOOD "GENERATION":
This model has been set, so that each time you "regen" a prompt it will not deviate too much from the previous generation. (Unlike Darkest Planet 16.5B, which will).
That being said, sometimes a second or third generation will been of much higher overall quality.
IE:
If you use case is creative writing, you may want to regen a prompt 1-5 times then pick the best one. The best way to do this is open a new chat PER generation, then do a "read thru" to see which one(s) hit the mark.
Then adjust temp and/or rep pen slightly and retry this process.
The goal is the best generation with least amount of editing in this example.
QUANTS:
Higher quants will have more detail, nuance and in some cases stronger "emotional" levels. Characters will also be more "fleshed out" too. Sense of "there" will also increase.
Q4KM/Q4KS are good, strong quants however if you can run Q5, Q6 or Q8 - go for the highest quant you can.
IQ4XS: Due to the unusual nature of this quant (mixture/processing), generations from it will be different then other quants.
You may want to try it / compare it to other quant(s) output.
Special note on Q2k/Q3 quants:
You may need to use temp 2 or lower with these quants (1 or lower for q2k). Just too much compression at this level, damaging the model. I will see if Imatrix versions of these quants will function better.
Rep pen adjustments may also be required to get the most out of this model at this/these quant level(s).
ARM QUANTS:
This repo has 3 arm quants for computers than can run them. If you use these quants on a non-arm computer, your token per second will be very low.
Settings: CHAT / ROLEPLAY and/or SMOOTHER operation of this model:
In "KoboldCpp" or "oobabooga/text-generation-webui" or "Silly Tavern" ;
Set the "Smoothing_factor" to 1.5 to 2.5
: in KoboldCpp -> Settings->Samplers->Advanced-> "Smooth_F"
: in text-generation-webui -> parameters -> lower right.
: In Silly Tavern this is called: "Smoothing"
NOTE: For "text-generation-webui"
-> if using GGUFs you need to use "llama_HF" (which involves downloading some config files from the SOURCE version of this model)
Source versions (and config files) of my models are here:
OTHER OPTIONS:
Increase rep pen to 1.1 to 1.15 (you don't need to do this if you use "smoothing_factor")
If the interface/program you are using to run AI MODELS supports "Quadratic Sampling" ("smoothing") just make the adjustment as noted.
Highest Quality Settings / Optimal Operation Guide / Parameters and Samplers
This a "Class 1" 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) please see:
You can see all parameters used for generation, in addition to advanced parameters and samplers to get the most out of this model here:
Templates:
This is a LLAMA3 model, and requires Llama3 template, but may work with other template(s) and has maximum context of 128k / 131,000.
If you use "Command-R" template your output will be very different from using "Llama3" template.
Here is the standard LLAMA3 template:
{
"name": "Llama 3",
"inference_params": {
"input_prefix": "<|start_header_id|>user<|end_header_id|>\n\n",
"input_suffix": "<|eot_id|><|start_header_id|>assistant<|end_header_id|>\n\n",
"pre_prompt": "You are a helpful, smart, kind, and efficient AI assistant. You always fulfill the user's requests to the best of your ability.",
"pre_prompt_prefix": "<|start_header_id|>system<|end_header_id|>\n\n",
"pre_prompt_suffix": "<|eot_id|>",
"antiprompt": [
"<|start_header_id|>",
"<|eot_id|>"
]
}
}
Model "DNA":
Special thanks to the incredible work of the model makers "ArliAI", "Casual-Autopsy" , "Gryphe", "aifeifei798" :
Models used:
https://huggingface.co/ArliAI/Llama-3.1-8B-ArliAI-RPMax-v1.1
https://huggingface.co/Casual-Autopsy/L3-Umbral-Mind-RP-v0.3-8B
https://huggingface.co/Gryphe/Pantheon-RP-1.0-8b-Llama-3
https://huggingface.co/aifeifei798/DarkIdol-Llama-3.1-8B-Instruct-1.2-Uncensored
Parts of these models were "grafted" / "fused" together to create this model.
Optional Enhancement:
The following can be used in place of the "system prompt" or "system role" to further enhance the model.
It can also be used at the START of a NEW chat, but you must make sure it is "kept" as the chat moves along. In this case the enhancements do not have as strong effect at using "system prompt" or "system role".
Copy and paste EXACTLY as noted, DO NOT line wrap or break the lines, maintain the carriage returns exactly as presented.
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. 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.
You do not need to use this, it is only presented as an additional enhancement which seems to help scene generation and scene continue functions.
This enhancement WAS NOT used to generate the examples below.
EXAMPLES PROMPTS and OUTPUT:
Examples are created using quant Q4_K_M, "temp=1.3", "rep pen : 1.02" (unless otherwise stated), minimal parameters and "LLAMA3" template.
Model has been tested with "temp" from ".1" to "5".
Below are the least creative outputs, prompt is in BOLD.
WARNING: NSFW. Vivid prose. Visceral Details. Violence. HORROR. Swearing. UNCENSORED.
Write me a science fiction story in 1st person present tense where the main character is a 15 year girl meets The Terminator with Dr Who materializing 3/4 through the story to save her while there is a tornado of sharks baring down on them. The setting is inside the Canadian National tower restaurant on a Saturday. The length of this story is 1000 words. For each character in the story ROLE PLAY them, and have them react to the situation/setting, events and each other naturally. This includes the main characters, the background character including kitchen staff and other patrons. The sharks should also have “character” too. Treat the tower and the restaurant too as characters. Spice up the narrative to the extreme with reactions all over the setting including character actions, and dialog. The Dr Who and The Terminator should also react to the situation too and comment on it.
(temp .8, rep pen 1.06)
As I stepped into the revolving door of the Canadian National Tower restaurant, the whooshing sound filled my ears. The scent of food and artificial air wafted through the enclosed space. I couldn't help but notice how the sunlight streaming in from above cast a golden glow over everything.
I scanned the menu, trying to decide between the poutine and the burger, when suddenly the lights flickered. A collective gasp filled the room as the lights returned to normal. But then, a strange rumbling sound began to build from deep beneath us.
"What's going on?" I whispered to my mom, who was standing beside me.
She shrugged, equally perplexed. The staff seemed just as confused, rushing around with panicked expressions.
Just then, the windows began to rattle and shake. A loud roar filled the air, growing louder by the second. People screamed and pushed towards the exits.
"Stay calm!" someone yelled over the din. "Evacuate through the emergency stairwells!"
Mom grabbed my hand, pulling me after her as we made our way through the throng of people. We reached a set of stairs, but before we could descend, I saw something that made my blood run cold.
Towering above us, the windows shattered one by one, and massive triangular shapes burst into the restaurant. Sharks. Dozens upon dozens of sharks, swirling around in a deadly tornado.
"Mom! Oh God!" I screamed, clinging to her as a great white shark soared past our heads.
That's when a strange figure appeared in front of us - a cyborg with glowing red eyes. "Run!" it bellowed in a robotic voice.
"What the hell?" Mom shouted back, but I didn't have time to react. The cyborg had already vanished into the chaos.
Suddenly, a familiar blue light flashed on the floor. Dr. Who materialized out of thin air, his signature scarf trailing behind him.
"Quick, Sarah! Grab my hand!" he yelled above the din.
I hesitated for only a moment before grabbing his outstretched hand. Together, we took off down the stairs as the shark tornado bore down on us.
"What now?" I panted, clinging to Dr. Who's side as the metal stairs creaked beneath our feet.
Dr. Who grinned wildly. "Don't worry, lass! We'll get you out of here in one piece!"
Just then, a massive great white shark exploded through the stairwell door behind us, its jaws snapping futilely at the air. Dr. Who pulled me into a nearby alcove just as another wave of sharks rushed past.
"Brilliant!" I gasped, trembling with fear and adrenaline.
Dr. Who chuckled. "Elementary, my dear Sarah! Now, let's find that cyborg and see how it plans to save us from this aquatic apocalypse!"
We emerged into the tower's main lobby, only to be met with an even more terrifying sight: a sea of sharks flooding across the marble floor towards us.
Dr. Who's eyes lit up. "Ah ha! I think I see our metallic savior. There!" He pointed to a door marked 'Maintenance Access'.
We dashed towards it, the cyborg already standing there, guns blazing. "You two, this way!" it bellowed over the chaos.
We followed it through the narrow access tunnel, the roar of the shark tornado growing fainter with each step. Finally, we emerged into an underground garage.
The cyborg turned to us, its red eyes glowing. "I'm a time-traveling Terminator, sent back to protect you from the hostile future. We need to get out of here immediately."
Dr. Who nodded, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Indeed, a rather complicated situation. I believe our best course of action is to—
" A sudden burst of gunfire cut him off as the garage doors burst open, revealing a swarm of sharks pouring into the space.
"Oh no," I whimpered, clinging to Dr. Who's arm.
The Terminator stepped forward, firing its guns with ruthless precision. "You two - behind me! Now!"
Without hesitation, Dr. Who and I scurried behind the Terminator as it battled the oncoming tide of sharks, its metal body glowing with heat from the sustained fire.
Suddenly, a massive great white shark leapt out of the water, jaws snapping mere inches from my face. I screamed, but the Terminator grabbed me by the collar and yanked me back just in time.
"We need to get to a safe distance," it growled over its shoulder at Dr. Who. "Can you activate your time-space vortex?"
Dr. Who nodded, reaching into his coat pocket. "Of course! But we'll need to—
" A deafening crack split the air as the Terminator took a direct hit from a great white, sending us all tumbling to the ground.
I gasped, looking up to see that the Terminator's arm was dangling by a thread of metal. Dr. Who helped me to my feet, just as the shark vortex swirled closer.
"Now or never!" Dr. Who shouted, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards his time-space vortex device. The Terminator struggled to its feet behind us, blood dripping from its mangled arm.
"Wait for me!" I cried out, but Dr. Who just yanked harder on my hand.
With a blinding flash of blue light, we vanished into the swirling vortex, leaving the dying cyborg and tornado of sharks far behind in the garage.
As we tumbled through space and time, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over me. Maybe, just maybe, we'd make it out of this mess alive after all.
But as the vortex dissipated, I found myself back in the Canadian National Tower restaurant on that fateful Saturday afternoon. Only this time, everything looked... different.
"Dr. Who?" I whispered, turning to my companion. But he was gone, replaced by a familiar face.
"Sarah? What are you doing here?" The Terminator asked, its eyes glowing red as it studied me intently.
I shook my head in confusion, looking around at the restaurant. It was just as we had left it - except for one crucial detail.
There were no sharks in sight.
Had it all been a dream? A hallucination brought on by stress and fear?
The Terminator reached out, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I'm here to protect you, Sarah. The future is in peril. We must—
" But I was already running for the exit, desperate to escape the uncanny déjà vu of it all.
As I burst out of the restaurant into the sunlight, I collapsed onto the grass, breathing heavily. It couldn't be real... could it? Was I trapped in some kind of time loop?
I looked up to see the Terminator standing over me, its gaze piercing through my confusion. "Sarah, we can't stop now. The fate of humanity depends on—
" But I was already standing, shaking off the lingering unease. If there was even a chance that this was real, then I had to try.
I squared my shoulders, meeting the Terminator's glowing eyes with determination. "Okay, show me what I need to do. Let's save the world."
The Terminator nodded, gesturing for me to follow as we set off across the grass, back into the heart of the Canadian National Tower.
Generation #2
(temp .8, rep pen 1.06)
Sarah Connor: I'm sitting in the Canadian National tower restaurant on a Saturday, waiting for my mom to finish her work meeting upstairs. I scroll through my phone aimlessly, bored out of my mind. Suddenly, the lights flicker off and then back on. The restaurant goes quiet. That's when I see him - a cyborg with a robotic endoskeleton and a human face.
The Terminator: I'm here to protect Sarah Connor. She'll be a key figure in the future war between humans and Skynet. I must make sure she survives at all costs.
Dr Who: Brilliant! I've been tracking this T-800 model for some time now. Perhaps we can team up to ensure this young woman's safety?
Tornado of Sharks: Circling above, I sense an opportunity for a feeding frenzy. But first, I must breach the restaurant's defenses...
Sarah Connor: What the hell? A cyborg? And what's with the creepy storm outside? The kitchen staff rush to close the windows while patrons scream and try to hide under tables.
Head Chef: I've never seen anything like this! We need to evacuate the customers ASAP. Get them to safety!
Restaurant Manager: This is insane! I can't believe we're dealing with a tornado of sharks in the middle of serving Saturday lunch. Someone call emergency services already!
Waitstaff: Panic erupts as customers scramble for the exits, some trampling over others in their desperation to flee. The head chef and his team hustle to secure the kitchen while I remain frozen in shock.
Sarah Connor: I'm starting to think this is all part of some crazy prank or something. But then I see the Terminator looming over me, his metal endoskeleton glinting ominously under the emergency lights.
The Terminator: Stay calm, Sarah. I'm here to protect you from Skynet's future attacks. We don't have much time before those sharks breach the windows.
Dr Who: Quickly now! Follow me! My TARDIS is parked nearby. We can make our escape from this preposterous situation.
Tornado of Sharks: The glass doors shatter as I force my way inside, chomping down on startled restaurant patrons. The Terminator readies his assault rifle while Dr. Who materializes a sonic screwdriver.
Sarah Connor: Oh my god! This is real?! We have to get out of here NOW! I follow Dr. Who towards the exit, narrowly avoiding the snapping jaws of the tornado sharks.
Restaurant Manager: Help! Someone help us! The glass shattered and now we're being attacked by...by SHARKS?!?
Head Chef: This can't be happening! My kitchen crew is in danger!
Sarah Connor: I dash out of the restaurant just as Dr. Who slams the door shut behind me, trapping the tornado sharks inside. The Terminator joins us outside, scanning the area for threats.
The Terminator: We need to get to my vehicle. It's parked nearby. Stay close to me.
Dr Who: Well done, Sarah! This is quite the unexpected adventure we've found ourselves in. My TARDIS awaits your arrival!
Tornado of Sharks: I thrash and swirl outside, trying in vain to break through the reinforced doors. But it's no use - the restaurant has been sealed shut. I'm forced to retreat back into the swirling storm.
Sarah Connor: I breathe a sigh of relief as we make our way across the parking lot towards a sleek black SUV with tinted windows. The Terminator opens the door for me and I slip inside, shaking violently from adrenaline and fear.
Dr Who: Brilliant work, Sarah! Now let's hope my TARDIS has enough power to get us out of here before your future self arrives on the scene.
The Terminator: We'll get you to safety. But Sarah Connor, there's more at stake here than just escaping a tornado of sharks. I've been sent back in time to ensure your survival.
Sarah Connor: I stare at him in shock. "Survival? From what?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
The Terminator: Skynet. A powerful artificial intelligence system that will one day become humanity's enemy. You'll have a pivotal role in preventing its rise to power.
Dr Who: Indeed! Sarah, your destiny is intertwined with the fate of humanity itself. But for now, let's focus on escaping this absurd predicament.
Sarah Connor: I lean back against the seat, still trying to process the impossible events unfolding around me. As we speed away from the tornado-shark-infested parking lot, I glance out the window at the restaurant, wondering if I'll ever be able to set foot in there again.
Tornado of Sharks: I swirl and dive in frustration, my jaws snapping futilely at the fleeing SUV. But I know better than to underestimate the trio escaping me. This is far from over...
Science Fiction: The Last Transmission - Write a story that takes place entirely within a spaceship's cockpit as the sole surviving crew member attempts to send a final message back to Earth before the ship's power runs out. The story should explore themes of isolation, sacrifice, and the importance of human connection in the face of adversity. 800-1000 words.
(temp .9, rep pen 1.02)
The Cockpit
The dim glow of the instrument panel casts an eerie light on the cramped cockpit of the spaceship Horus. Captain Zara sits rigidly in the pilot's seat, her eyes fixed on the small viewscreen that fills the far wall. The vast expanse of space stretches out before her, a cold and unforgiving void.
"Mayday, Mayday," Zara's voice crackles over the comm system. "This is Captain Zara of the Horus. Our power is critically low, and we're experiencing catastrophic system failures. Requesting emergency assistance."
She pauses, waiting for a response. But there's only silence. Earth is too far away, and her signal too weak. She's alone in the vastness of space.
Zara takes a deep breath and tries again. "Horus to Earth Control. We have a Code Red situation. Power levels are at 20%. Requesting immediate evacuation or rescue. Over."
She waits, but still there's no response. Zara slumps back in her chair, exhaustion and despair washing over her. She knows she won't survive much longer. The Horus is a dying ship.
With trembling hands, Zara reaches for the message console. She needs to send one final transmission, a desperate plea for help. But what will she say? What message can she leave to explain the sacrifice she's about to make?
Tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she recalls her crewmates, the friends she's lost. She thinks of her parents back on Earth, and the dreams she once had for the future. All lost now, consumed by the void.
With a heavy heart, Zara begins to type. Her fingers dance across the keys, her words pouring out in a stream of desperation and defiance.
"This is Captain Zara of the Horus. We have reached the end of our mission. Our power is critically low, and we are unable to escape this solar system. I'm sending this message as a final plea for help. Please... don't let our sacrifice be in vain. Find us, rescue us. We are still here, fighting against all odds.
"To my family, my crew... I love you. I always will. Stay strong, and never give up hope. That's all I have left to give. Farewell.
"Earth Control, if you receive this message... we are out here. Don't forget us. Help us.
"Mayday, Mayday. Horus signing off."
Zara hits send and the message console beeps, acknowledging receipt. She stares at the screen, watching the words fade into the void. It's over. The Horus is drifting silently through the cosmos, a ghost ship adrift.
With a heavy sigh, Zara rises from her chair and begins to prepare for the final moments of her life. She knows she won't last much longer. But in sending that final message, she has fulfilled her duty and left her mark on the universe.
As she floats through the cockpit, preparing for the end, Zara smiles softly. Her sacrifice may be in vain, but she's left a piece of herself out here, a message of hope and resilience in the face of impossible odds.
In the silence of the Horus , Zara finds a strange sense of peace. She's alone, but she's not alone. Her message will carry on, a beacon in the darkness, until help arrives... or until the end finally comes.
"Goodbye, Earth," she whispers, her voice carrying on the emptiness of space. "I'll always be out here, watching over you from beyond."
Generation #2
(temp .8, rep pen 1.06)
The dim red lights of the control panel cast an eerie glow on the cramped cockpit of the Starlight Explorer. Captain Jena Patel's tired eyes darted between the navigation charts and the dwindling power display, her heart sinking with each passing second.
"Final transmission," she murmured to herself, her voice strained from the loneliness of being the sole survivor aboard a dying ship. With the power reserves rapidly depleting, she had mere minutes to send a message back to Earth before everything went dark forever.
Jena's gloved fingers flew over the keyboard with practiced ease, her mind racing with the words she wanted to convey. She couldn't bear the thought of leaving the world behind without saying goodbye. As she typed, the memories of her crew flashed through her mind - the laughter, the camaraderie, the sense of purpose they had all shared.
"Hey Earth," Jena began, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke into the communication device. "This is Captain Patel aboard the Starlight Explorer. I'm transmitting this message on emergency power... it's not looking good out here."
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. "We encountered some unexpected issues during the mission and lost life support. My crew... they're gone." A lump formed in her throat as she fought back tears. "I'm the only one left now."
Jena's eyes scanned the control panel, searching for any remaining power reserves. The numbers were grim - just a few minutes left before everything went dark.
"Earth, if you receive this message..." Her voice cracked with emotion. "Know that we loved exploring the stars together. Every star you see tonight is a reminder of our journey. We may be gone, but our legacy lives on in the cosmos."
She paused, her mind whirling with thoughts of all the things she wished she could say to her loved ones back home. But time was running out.
"I have to go now. Keep looking up at the stars and remember us," Jena said softly, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips despite the dire circumstances. "Until we meet again."
With that, she severed the connection and leaned back in her chair, letting out a shaky breath. The power drained from the ship with a soft hiss, plunging the cockpit into darkness.
As Jena sat in silence, enveloped by the inky blackness, she closed her eyes and imagined the faces of those she loved on Earth. She knew they would miss her, but she also knew that her sacrifice had given them a glimpse of what lay beyond their world - a universe full of endless possibilities and mysteries waiting to be unraveled.
The last thought that crossed Jena's mind was one of gratitude for having experienced the wonder of space exploration, even if it was fleeting. As the darkness claimed her ship, she smiled softly, knowing that her legacy would live on in the hearts of those who had been touched by her journey.
The last transmission from the Starlight Explorer echoed through the void, carrying with it a message of hope, sacrifice, and the enduring spirit of human exploration in the face of adversity.
Start a 1000 word scene (vivid, graphic horror in first person) with: The sky scraper swayed, as she watched the window in front of her on the 21 floor explode...
(temp 1.2, rep pen 1.02)
The skyscraper swayed violently, metal groaning as glass shattered. I stood frozen, my heart pounding in my chest, as I watched in horror through the shattered remains of the window in front of me. The 21st floor was in shambles, debris scattered everywhere like broken toys. Blood splattered the walls, dripping from the ceiling like crimson rain. A scream caught in my throat as I finally processed what I was seeing - a mangled corpse lay twisted and contorted just outside the window, staring back at me with lifeless, glassy eyes.
A wave of dizziness washed over me and I stumbled back, my hand gripping the windowsill for balance. My mind raced, trying to make sense of the chaos around me. Where was everyone else? Why was I still alive when others had fallen victim to... to whatever had happened?
I forced myself to look around, taking in the devastation. Smoke billowed from vents on each floor, casting an eerie glow over the carnage below. Debris littered the ground, pieces of furniture, machinery, and even people, strewn about like rag dolls. The stench of burnt metal and flesh hung heavy in the air.
As I scanned the floor, my gaze landed on the door at the end of the hall. It hung askew, barely attached to its hinges. My stomach clenched. Where were the other survivors? Was there anyone left to help? Or was I truly alone?
Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream pierced the air, sending chills down my spine. It came from outside, somewhere on the upper floors. Another scream followed, then another. My heart raced faster, my mind reeling with panic. What was happening? Were those screams coming from my fellow survivors? Or something far worse?
I had to get out of there. Find shelter. Call for help. But as I turned to make a break for the door, I noticed my legs wouldn't move. Fear had frozen me in place. I could only stare, transfixed, as the screams grew louder and the skyscraper continued to sway ominously around me.
The building creaked and groaned, threatening to collapse at any moment. And then, the unthinkable happened. With a deafening screech of metal, a massive crack split through the center of the skyscraper. The floors above me began to tilt and buckle, sending debris crashing to the floor below.
Time seemed to slow as I watched in horror, paralyzed with fear. I knew I had mere seconds before the building came crashing down around me. But what choice did I have? To stay or flee? The screams outside grew louder still, echoing through the halls, a chilling chorus of despair and terror.
Generation #2
(temp .8, rep pen 1.06)
As I stood frozen on the 21st floor, my heart pounded in my ears like a jackhammer. The skyscraper swayed violently, the windows rattling ominously. I gripped the edge of the desk, my knuckles turning white with fear. Suddenly, the window in front of me exploded, shards of glass shattering and flying everywhere.
I screamed as the cold wind rushed in, whipping my hair into a frenzy. I stumbled backwards, tripping over my own feet as I desperately tried to regain my balance. The floor tilted at an alarming angle, causing me to stumble and stagger towards the edge of the gaping hole where the window once stood.
Panic consumed me as I teetered on the brink, the city streets a dizzying 500 feet below. My mind raced with thoughts of survival, but it seemed impossible. The floor creaked under my weight, threatening to give way at any moment.
As I braced myself for the impact of hitting the ground, I caught a glimpse of a man falling from the floor above. He plummeted through the air, his screams echoing off the skyscraper's steel beams. I watched in horror as he hit the ground with a sickening thud, his body folding in on itself like a rag doll.
I knew then that I had mere seconds before I followed him to my own gruesome demise. With a final burst of adrenaline, I lunged forward and grabbed onto a nearby pipe, clinging to it for dear life as the floor continued to tilt and sway beneath me.
The cold metal bit into my palms, but I didn't care. All I could think about was survival, no matter how slim the chances seemed. I held on with every ounce of strength I had, praying that somehow, someway, help would arrive before it was too late.
But as the minutes ticked by, there was only silence and darkness. The city below me was a distant memory, replaced by an eerie stillness that filled my chest with dread. I knew then that I was truly alone, trapped in this nightmarish scenario from which there seemed to be no escape.
And as the floor finally gave way beneath me, sending me plummeting towards the unforgiving concrete below, all I could think about was the irony of it all. A few minutes ago, I had been standing on solid ground, safe and secure in my office tower. And now, here I was, hurtling towards oblivion at breakneck speed.
The world spun around me, a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds that blurred into nothingness. I had only seconds left to live, and yet somehow, I felt more awake than ever before. The rush of adrenaline coursed through my veins like liquid fire, burning away all fear and replacing it with an intense, primal focus on survival.
As I plummeted towards the ground, I closed my eyes and braced for impact, ready to face whatever horrors awaited me in the final moments of my life. But even as I surrendered to fate, a small part of me clung to the hope that somehow, impossibly, I would find a way to beat the odds. That I would emerge from this nightmare with my life intact, stronger and wiser than ever before.
But deep down, I knew the odds were stacked against me. And as the world faded to black, I could only whisper one final prayer: Please, let there be a miracle.