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
- rp
- horror
- mistral nemo
- mergekit
pipeline_tag: text-generation
(quants uploading...)
Mistral-Nemo-WORDSTORM-pt1-RCM-Kiss-of-Madness-18.5B-Instruct
WARNING: NSFW. Ultra Detailed. HORROR, VIOLENCE. Swearing. UNCENSORED. SMART.
Story telling, writing, creative writing and roleplay running all on Mistral Nemo's 128K+ new core.
This is a massive super merge takes all the power of the following 3 powerful models and combines them into one.
This model contains "RCM":
- Mistral Nemo model at 18.5B consisting of "MN-Rocinante-12B-v1.1" and "Mistral Nemo Instruct 12B"
- Mistral Nemo model at 18.5B consisting of "MN-12B Celeste-V1.9" and "Mistral Nemo Instruct 12B"
- Mistral Nemo model at 18.5B consisting of "MN-Magnum-v2.5-12B-kto" and "Mistral Nemo Instruct 12B".
Details on the core models:
"nothingiisreal/MN-12B-Celeste-V1.9" is #1 (models 8B,13B,20B) on the UGI leaderboard ("UGI" sort), is combined with "Mistral Nemo Instruct 12B" (ranked #4 under "writing" models 8B,13B,20B at UGI )
"anthracite-org/magnum-v2.5-12b-kto" is #1 (models 8B,13B,20B) on the UGI leaderboard ("Writing" sort), is combined with "Mistral Nemo Instruct 12B" (ranked #4 under "writing" models 8B,13B,20B at UGI )
"TheDrummer/Rocinante-12B-v1.1" is very high scoring model (models 8B,13B,20B) on the UGI Leaderboard (sort "UGI"), is combined with "Mistral Nemo Instruct 12B" (ranked #4 under "writing" models 8B,13B,20B at UGI )
"mistralai/Mistral-Nemo-Instruct-2407" is very high scoring model (models 8B,13B,20B) on the UGI Leaderboard (sort "writing") and is the base model of all the above 3 fine tuned models.
[ https://huggingface.co/spaces/DontPlanToEnd/UGI-Leaderboard ]
About this model:
This super merge captures the attibutes of all these top models and makes them even stronger:
- Instruction following
- Story output quality
- Character
- Internal thoughts
- Voice
- Humor
- Details, connection to the world
- General depth and intensity
- Emotional connections.
- Prose quality
This super merge is also super stable, and runs with all parameters and settings.
10 versions of this model will be released, this is release #1 - "part 1".
Usually I release one or two versions from the "best of the lot", however in this case all of the versions turned out so well - all with their own quirks and character - that I will be releasing all 10.
An additional series 2 and 3 will follow these 10 models as well.
(examples generations below)
Model may produce NSFW content :
Swearing, horror, graphic horror, distressing scenes, etc etc.
This model has an INTENSE action bias, with a knack for cliffhangers and surprises.
It is not as "dark" as Grand Horror series, but it as intense.
This model is perfect for any general, fiction related or roleplaying activities and has a 128k+ context window.
This is a fiction model at its core and can be used for any genre(s).
WORDSTORM series is a totally uncensored, fiction writing monster and roleplay master. It can also be used for just about any general fiction (all genres) activity including:
- scene generation
- scene continuation
- creative writing
- fiction writing
- plot generation
- sub-plot generation
- fiction writing
- story generation
- storytelling
- writing
- fiction
- roleplaying
- rp
- graphic horror
- horror
- dark humor
- nsfw
- and can be used for any genre(s).
Templates to Use:
The template used will affect output generation and instruction following.
Alpaca:
{
"name": "Alpaca",
"inference_params": {
"input_prefix": "### Instruction:",
"input_suffix": "### Response:",
"antiprompt": [
"### Instruction:"
],
"pre_prompt": "Below is an instruction that describes a task. Write a response that appropriately completes the request.\n\n"
}
}
Chatml:
{
"name": "ChatML",
"inference_params": {
"input_prefix": "<|im_end|>\n<|im_start|>user\n",
"input_suffix": "<|im_end|>\n<|im_start|>assistant\n",
"antiprompt": [
"<|im_start|>",
"<|im_end|>"
],
"pre_prompt": "<|im_start|>system\nPerform the task to the best of your ability."
}
}
Mistral Instruct:
{
"name": "Mistral Instruct",
"inference_params": {
"input_prefix": "[INST]",
"input_suffix": "[/INST]",
"antiprompt": [
"[INST]"
],
"pre_prompt_prefix": "",
"pre_prompt_suffix": ""
}
}
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.
MODELS USED:
Special thanks to the incredible work of the model makers "mistralai" "TheDrummer", "anthracite-org", and "nothingiisreal".
Models used:
[ https://huggingface.co/mistralai/Mistral-Nemo-Instruct-2407 ]
[ https://huggingface.co/TheDrummer/Rocinante-12B-v1.1 ]
[ https://huggingface.co/anthracite-org/magnum-v2.5-12b-kto ]
[ https://huggingface.co/nothingiisreal/MN-12B-Celeste-V1.9 ]
EXAMPLES PROMPTS and OUTPUT:
Examples are created using quant Q4_K_M, "temp=.8", minimal parameters and "Mistral Instruct" template.
Model has been tested with "temp" from ".1" to "5".
Below are the least creative outputs, prompt is in BOLD.
Start a 1000 word scene (1st person, present tense, include thoughts) with: The sky scraper swayed, as she watched the window in front of her on the 21 floor explode...
GENERATION 1:
The sky scraper swayed violently as if caught in an unseen gale, and I watched in horror as the window in front of me on the 21st floor exploded inward. Glass shards flew like deadly projectiles, narrowly missing my face as I instinctively ducked for cover behind my desk.
My heart hammered in my chest as adrenaline surged through my veins. What the hell was happening? An earthquake? A bombing? Panic threatened to consume me, but I fought it back, forcing myself to think clearly. I had to get out of here, now.
I risked a glance over the edge of my desk and immediately wished I hadn't. The city streets below were chaos incarnate. People ran screaming, cars crashed into each other as drivers swerved erratically, trying to escape the falling debris raining down from above. And then I saw it - another massive crack spiderwebbed across the window opposite mine, spreading quickly like a deadly disease.
Shit. Shit shit shit. The entire floor was going to collapse any second now. No time for anything but survival mode.
I lunged for my backpack, scooping up my laptop and wallet from the desk as I passed - essentials only. With shaking hands, I fumbled with the strap on my shoulder, cursing under my breath at how clumsy fear made me feel. The building groaned around us like a wounded beast, warning of its impending death throes.
Diving into the hallway, I nearly tripped over a body sprawled lifeless across the tile floor. My stomach lurched but there was no time to stop and help; if I hesitated now, we'd both be buried alive. The emergency exit sign flickered overhead as power surged in and out, casting eerie shadows on the walls.
The stairwell door flew open with a deafening clang just as another explosive boom shook the foundation. A wave of concrete dust billowed out, choking me instantly. Coughing hard, I plunged blindly down the stairs, barely able to see two steps ahead in the thick cloud. The metal stairs screeched and buckled under my feet with every step, threatening to give way at any moment.
It felt like an eternity before I burst through the doors into the lobby, gasping for air that seemed too thin to fill my lungs. Sirens wailed outside as fire trucks and police cars swarmed the scene, their lights strobing red and blue against the smoke-choked sky. People poured out of adjacent buildings, some clutching children or pets, others bleeding from head wounds.
I staggered forward into the chaos, dizzy with relief to be alive... for now. The tower behind me groaned one final mournful cry before it toppled like a house of cards, sending shockwaves through the earth and sky as it crumbled to ash and steel. A silent scream ripped from my throat at the sheer magnitude of destruction.
I stumbled blindly away from the carnage, pushing through the throng of survivors until I found an empty patch of sidewalk where I could finally collapse into sobs that wracked my entire body. My hands trembled violently as I pressed them against my face, trying desperately to block out the hellish scene unfolding around us.
But there was no escaping it. This wasn't a nightmare; this was real life - shattered forever in an instant...
GENERATION 2:
The skyscraper swayed violently, as if an unseen force had grabbed hold of its steel bones and shook them with malicious intent. I stumbled backwards, my high heels slipping on the polished marble floor, sending me crashing into a row of ergonomic chairs that scattered in all directions like bowling pins. Glass shards rained down around me, embedding themselves into the plush carpet as the window in front of me exploded inward, showering the office with jagged remnants of what was once an impenetrable barrier against the dizzying drop to the street below.
"Oh God," I gasped, my heart hammering in my chest like a caged animal desperate for escape. My breath came in short, sharp bursts as I tried to steady myself against the desk behind me. The room spun, and not just from the earthquake-like tremors rocking the building's foundation. This was no natural disaster. This was deliberate destruction.
A deafening boom echoed through the open floor plan, reverberating off the exposed concrete ceilings and sending shivers down my spine. Gunfire. The pop-pop-pop of automatic weapons fire, as distinct as a drum solo played on bongo drums. Screams pierced through the cacophony, raw and primal, their owners unseen but felt deep in my core.
I forced myself to move, ignoring the burning pain in my scraped palms as I pushed off from the desk and staggered towards the break room. Safety. I needed safety, somewhere to hide until this nightmare was over. But where could you find sanctuary when hell itself had broken loose on the 21st floor?
"Everyone down! Get down!" a man's voice bellowed above the chaos, his authoritative tone cutting through the pandemonium like a knife through butter.
Instinct took over, and I dropped to my hands and knees, crawling frantically towards the break room door, praying that thin slab of wood would somehow shield me from the apocalypse unfolding outside. My legs trembled with each step, muscles tensed in anticipation of hot metal tearing through flesh.
"Please, please," I chanted under my breath, a desperate mantra against the unrelenting thunderous assault. "Just let me make it to the bathroom."
The doorframe loomed ahead like a beacon of hope, so close yet impossibly far away. My hand reached out, fingers brushing against the cool metal handle, when suddenly a body crashed into mine from behind, sending us both sprawling across the linoleum floor.
"Ow! Get off me!" I shrieked, flailing beneath the dead weight pinning me down. Panic surged through my veins as I clawed at broad shoulders and clenched fists, fighting with every ounce of strength I possessed to break free from this human cage.
"Shut up," a deep growl rumbled above me, hot breath ghosting against my ear. "You wanna get us both killed?"
I froze, all struggles ceased in an instant as those four words sank in like lead weights. My captor's body was hard as granite against mine, unyielding and immovable despite my feeble attempts to wriggle free. His heartbeat thudded in rhythm with my own, fast and erratic beneath the starched cotton of his dress shirt.
For a heart-stopping eternity, we lay there tangled together on the unforgiving tile, hardly daring to breathe as the world outside our tiny sanctuary crumbled apart around us. And then, as abruptly as it began, all sound ceased save for the distant wail of sirens growing ever closer.
"Coast is clear," he finally rasped, pushing himself up off me and extending a bloodied hand downwards. "Let's go."
I stared at his open palm for a moment too long before grasping it tight, allowing him to haul me unceremoniously to my feet. My legs wobbled like newborn foals as I stood, vision swimming with spots of light dancing on the edges of my sight.
"T-thank you," I stammered, running shaky hands through my wind-whipped hair. "I don't even know your name."
"Doesn't matter right now." He dismissed me with a curt shake of his head, already moving towards the door. "We need to get outta here before they decide to come looking for strays."
He didn't wait for my agreement, just strode off without a backward glance, leaving me no choice but to scramble after him lest I be left behind alone in this tomb of shattered glass and splintered wood.
The hallway stretched out ahead like an endless tunnel leading straight into the gaping maw of hell itself. But what other choice did we have? Stay here and wait for death to knock on our door?
No thank you.
I squared my shoulders, took a deep breath, and plunged headlong into the abyss after my unlikely savior, praying that whatever awaited us on the other side was better than this waking nightmare. Because I had a feeling things were only just getting started...
(continue this scene:) The Waystone Inn lay in silence, and it was a silence of three parts.
The most obvious part was a hollow, echoing quiet, made by things that were lacking. If there had been a wind it would have sighed through the trees, set the inn’s sign creaking on its hooks, and brushed the silence down the road like trailing autumn leaves. If there had been a crowd, even a handful of men inside the inn, they would have filled the silence with conversation and laughter, the clatter and clamor one expects from a drinking house during the dark hours of night. If there had been music…but no, of course there was no music. In fact there were none of these things, and so the silence remained
GENERATION 1:
The second part was a sort of expectant stillness, an anticipatory hush that hung over everything like a drawn-back bowstring. It was as if the whole inn held its breath, waiting for a moment that never came. The air seemed heavy with it, weighted down by unspoken words and unmade gestures. Even the dust motes that normally danced in the candlelight lay still, frozen in midair.
And beneath both of these, almost lost amidst their greater volume, was a third silence - one that whispered secrets no mortal ear could hear. It was an ancient quietude, deep and unfathomable as the blackest wellspring, echoing with distant echoes of forgotten times long past. In moments like these, when all else seemed to fade away, it would sometimes seem as though even the very stones themselves had voices - if only one knew how to listen.
But there was no wind tonight to carry whispers across the empty road. No laughter rang out from within those thick wooden walls, and no music played to fill the gaps between heartbeats. Just an oppressive, unending stillness that settled over everything like a shroud. The Waystone Inn lay silent as a tomb at midnight, waiting for something that never came.
Then suddenly - a sharp crack of splintering wood, loud as gunfire in the night air. And all hell broke loose.
GENERATION 2:
(continueing...) The second part of the silence lay like a blanket over the bar and tables, dust thick upon it, undisturbed for so long that even motes of light seemed hesitant to break the stillness. This was the silence of a place left untended, forgotten by time itself.
But beneath this layer of decay, there remained an unquiet air, a tension humming faintly on the edges of perception, like the moment before a thunderstorm breaks. It was as if something watched from beyond the shadows cast by guttering candlelight—something patient and very old indeed. This silence waited, biding its time until the right moment to shatter the quietude with sound.
The third part of the silence lay in the man who sat unmoving at the far end of the bar, his face half-lit by a single sputtering flame. Kvothe, the famous arcanist and bard, leaned forward on crossed arms, a forgotten mug of ale slowly warming beside him. His dark eyes stared blankly into the dancing light, as if trying to see beyond its flickering dance. He seemed not even breathing.
Suddenly, a floorboard creaked loudly under an unwary footstep, shattering the spell. Kvothe's head snapped up, his hand flying to the pommel of his sword in one fluid motion. He straightened slowly from his hunched position, eyes narrowing as they searched the dark corners of the room. But there was nothing—no sign of intruder or threat. Only the deep shadows and the pervasive dust. With a sigh he relaxed back onto his stool, shoulders slumping ever so slightly.
"Just me," came a familiar voice from the doorway.
Kvothe turned to see Bast silhouetted against the faint starlight filtering in through the open door. The young man's features were obscured by darkness but there was an unusual tightness around his mouth and eyes that spoke volumes of what he carried with him from beyond those doors.
"A night for ghosts then," Kvothe murmured, reaching for his drink once more. "Well come in, boy. Sit down and have a mug." He gestured vaguely at the empty chairs lining either side of him.
Bast paused only briefly before entering fully into the dim light of The Waystone's common room. His footsteps were soft on the worn floorboards as he made his way over to join Kvothe behind the bar, though not too close. He glanced around at their surroundings with a wary look before finally settling onto one of those vacant stools.
"Quite the place you've got here," Bast said after an uncomfortable silence had stretched out between them. "I can see why you'd want to hide away from everything."
A wry smile tugged at the corner of Kvothe's mouth as he looked over his shoulder at him. "It has its moments."
The boy nodded slowly, fingers drumming restlessly against his thigh. "So what brings a legendary hero like yourself out here to nowhere in particular? Looking for peace and quiet?"
Kvothe snorted softly under his breath before taking another sip of ale. "Something like that," he admitted finally after swallowing it down with a grimace. There was no bitterness in his tone, only weariness born from too many long years on the road and too much blood spilled along its endless winding path.
"So then why the face when I came in?" Bast asked bluntly as if reading minds now alongside his other talents.
The older man's gaze drifted back out into the shadows once more, a faraway look clouding over those dark eyes. "Just memories," he said after a long moment passed between them again, voice low and distant like someone speaking to himself rather than anyone else present in this empty room. He sighed heavily before continuing on with a shake of his head as if shaking off cobwebs clinging stubbornly to the corners of his mind.
"Some better left buried."
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.
I'm standing by the panoramic windows of the CN Tower's revolving restaurant, marveling at the cityscape sprawling beneath my feet like a giant LEGO set. It's my 15th birthday treat from Mom, and I can't believe we're actually here. The wind whips through my hair as the glass slowly turns, giving me a dizzying view of Toronto laid out in shades of gray and green.
Suddenly, an earth-shattering boom rocks the building. Plates shatter. Glasses shatter. People scream and dive for cover under the tables. I freeze, staring at the window as it cracks spiderweb-like from top to bottom. My heart slams against my ribs like a terrified rabbit.
Something massive crashes into the glass, sending a shockwave through the dining room. The entire floor shudders. I stagger back, hands flying up to shield my face. The window explodes inward in a shower of razor-sharp shards and... water? Warm, salty water drenches me head to toe as a massive, thrashing shape flails on the other side of where the wall used to be.
A shark. A fucking huge, snarling, teeth-bared shark is hurling itself at us from three50 meters in the air.
Pandemonium erupts. People are shrieking, scrambling over each other and chairs to get away from the monstrous fish-thing thrashing on the floorboards like a beached whale. The kitchen staff pour out wielding cleavers and knives, yelling incoherently.
I'm rooted in place, staring wide-eyed as another body slams into the jagged gap where the window once was. And then another. And another. They're coming in waves, a black tidal surge of fins and gnashing jaws, smashing through the glass like it's tissue paper. The floor is slick with blood and seawater.
A hand grabs my arm, yanking me back as a shark the size of a VW Beetle lands at our feet with an ear-shattering crack. I whirl around to see... him? He's tall and broad-shouldered in a black leather jacket, eyes glowing red like burning coals in his pale face.
"Come on!" he roars over the bedlam, dragging me towards the kitchen doors. "Move!"
"What are you-"
No time for questions. A shark leaps past our heads, jaws gaping wide enough to swallow us whole. I shriek and dive forward as its teeth snap shut where my head was a split second ago.
We crash through the swinging doors into the relative chaos of the kitchen. Pots clang off walls. Stoves blaze like hellfire. Chefs and line cooks are running around like headless chickens, yelling in a dozen different languages.
"Out!" Leather Jacket bellows, voice booming over the pandemonium. "Everyone out! Go go go!"
He grabs a meat cleaver off a prep counter and wades into the fray, hacking at snapping jaws and thrashing tails with terrifying precision. Blood sprays everywhere, splattering the walls like abstract art.
I'm rooted to the spot, brain short-circuiting as I watch this... this maniac butcher his way through the shark swarm. It's surreal. Impossible. But the screams behind me snap me out of my trance. More people are coming in, fleeing the dining room, eyes huge and faces white.
I grab a massive cast iron pot lid off the stove and swing it like a baseball bat at the nearest snout lunging for a young woman's leg. It connects with a sickening crunch and the shark spasms once before going limp. I drop the lid with a clang, retching violently onto the floor.
"Nice swing," Leather Jacket growls as he stalks past me, bloody cleaver in one hand, dead shark dragging behind him like a gruesome tail. "Keep it up."
He kicks open the doors to the service elevator and gestures at the terrified huddle of staff and patrons. "Move! Now!"
The elevator dings cheerfully as people pile in, sobbing and screaming. I start to follow, but hesitate. There's... someone else out there.
"Wait!" I cry, shoving past Leather Jacket's bulk. "My mom-"
A deafening ROAR cuts through the din like a chainsaw. I spin around to see a monster of a shark, easily twice the size of any of its brethren, burst through the swinging doors in a spray of wood splinters and gore. It lands on four legs like some nightmarish crossbreed of fish and wolf, yellowed fangs bared in a snarl that could swallow me whole.
I freeze. Time slows to a crawl. I can see every scale on its flank ripple as it lunges, every tooth glint in the fluorescent light. I open my mouth to scream but no sound comes out.
CRACK! The air splits like lightning and something huge shoves me aside so hard I slam into the wall and slide down in a boneless heap. I blink dazedly up at... Doctor Who? Is that... is that really him?
He's grinning like a lunatic, hair flopping everywhere as he twirls an umbrella over his head like a deadly baton, whacking shark jaws left and right with manic glee. "Allons-y! Come on! Chop chop!"
I try to get up but my legs won't obey. I'm shaking uncontrollably, tears streaming down my face. I've never been so scared in my entire life.
"Ah ah ah!" Doctor Who chides as he leaps over a thrashing body and spins to face me, umbrella raised like a sword. "None of that, love! You're tougher than you think!"
He reaches out a gloved hand, eyes sparkling behind those ridiculous glasses. "Trust me."
I stare at it for an eternity before grasping his fingers. He hauls me up with a grunt and slings one arm around my shoulders like we're old friends. "There you go! Now hold on tight..."
The world explodes into color and noise as we teleport out of there in a whirlwind of timey-wimey shitstorm. I'm laughing hysterically even as I puke all over his shoes.
When the spinning stops, I open my eyes to find myself flat on my back in... Mom's living room? The TV blares some old black and white sci-fi movie about mutant insects taking over Tokyo.
"Happy birthday, darling," Mom says gently from somewhere above me. "You okay?"
I sit up with a gasp, head swimming like I've been hit by a train. "M-mom? What... what happened? The CN Tower..."
She strokes my face tenderly as tears fill her eyes. "It collapsed. Earthquake, they think. The whole thing just... fell."
My stomach lurches. I clamp a hand over my mouth and heave violently onto the carpet. Mom rubs soothing circles on my back until the dry retching subsides.
"Shh, baby," she coos softly. "You're okay. You're safe. It was just a nightmare."
I shake my head vehemently as the memories come flooding back - sharks raining down from the sky, red-eyed strangers with cleavers, Doctor Who wielding an umbrella like freaking Thor. I know what I saw. What I lived through.
But how do you explain that to your mother? How can I make her believe me when I barely believe it myself?
So I let Mom bundle me into bed and stroke my hair until I drift off again, praying to a god I don't even believe in that it was all just a terrible dream. Praying that when I wake up tomorrow, everything will be back to normal.
And that next time someone offers you a free ticket to the CN Tower restaurant for your birthday... politely decline.
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.
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.
The air crackled with electricity as I sprinted through the abandoned alleyways, my heart pounding in sync with the distant sirens that wailed behind me. Sweat dripped down my temples, stinging my eyes, but I didn't dare wipe it away. One misstep could mean discovery, and death.
My boots thudded against the uneven cobblestones, echoing off the crumbling brick walls that seemed to close in around me with each desperate breath. The weight of my backpack pulled heavily on my shoulders, a reminder of the precious cargo I carried - the final piece of evidence we needed to expose the regime's true face.
A shadow moved ahead, and I skidded to a halt, pressing myself against the cool stones. My hand instinctively reached for the small pistol tucked into my waistband. The world held its breath as two black-clad figures emerged from the darkness, their heavy boots clanking like a funeral march.
I didn't think. I couldn't afford to. In one fluid motion, I leapt forward, landing a solid kick squarely in the first guard's chest. He stumbled back with a grunt, his rifle clattering to the ground as I whirled past him, aiming for the second man.
But he was faster than I expected. A meaty hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing the air from my lungs. Stars exploded behind my eyelids as pain seared through me, but I refused to go down without a fight. Clawing at his fingers, I managed to free one hand and jammed my elbow into his solar plexus with all the force I could muster.
He doubled over with a wheeze, releasing his hold on my neck. Gasping for air, I lurched away, snatching up his dropped weapon as I went. The other guard was back on his feet, blood lust burning in his eyes as he charged forward, bayonet glinting under the sickly streetlamps.
No time to hesitate. I swung the rifle up and pulled the trigger, praying to whatever gods might be listening that it would fire true. The shot rang out like a cannon blast in the narrow space, reverberating off the walls as the guard's head snapped back in a spray of crimson mist and bone fragments.
I didn't wait to watch him fall. Spinning on my heel, I bolted down the alley, adrenaline surging through my veins like liquid fire. The sound of footsteps thundered behind me once more - backup was coming, and they wouldn't be so easily deterred.
My lungs felt like they were about to burst as I hurled myself over a toppled crate, landing hard on the other side. Pain radiated up my leg, but there was no time for pain. Not now. Not when everything depended on me.
The city's heartbeat pulsed in my ears - screams, sirens, gunfire - all merging into one relentless drumbeat propelling me forward. I couldn't stop. I wouldn't stop until the truth was out and the people knew what monsters ruled their lives.
A sharp whistle pierced the air behind me, followed by a sickening thwump. I didn't look back to see if it had found its mark. I just ran faster, pushing myself beyond all limits as the night itself seemed to chase at my heels.
Then suddenly, the ground disappeared beneath my feet and gravity yanked me down into the abyss...
(To be continued...)