Tag: A.I. Art

When darkness falls over Crestview Department Store, three unlikely allies are thrust into a heart-stopping encounter with a sinister cult, turning ordinary objects into weapons for survival.

Please enjoy this horror short, part of a series experimenting with artificial intelligence. I fed the location, characters, scenario, and mood into ChatGPT and asked it to craft a story, then used Stable Diffusion XL to create illustrations. How did it turn out? Well, you be the judge.

Detective Dan Williams strode confidently into the vast, modern Crestview Department Store just as the fluorescent lights began their gradual dimming, signaling the store’s imminent closure. He was investigating a series of odd thefts in the area—mystical artifacts with legends stretching centuries had been vanishing. The latest, an encrypted tip from an anonymous source, suggested that some suspicious activity might transpire tonight, right here.

As he walked past aisles showcasing the latest fashion, electronics, and more, his gaze landed on a makeup counter where a young woman was busily tidying up the last-minute mess left by hurried shoppers. Her almond eyes, beautifully shadowed with gold, widened slightly upon seeing him. Her already pale complexion seemed to lose a hint more color, and her delicate fingers trembled as she tried to reorganize a toppled display of lipsticks. The name ‘Lila’ shimmered on her name tag, reflecting the dimming overhead lights.

Dan approached her with a friendly demeanor, hoping to ease any concerns. “Good evening, ma’am,” he began, showing his badge discreetly, “I’m Detective Williams. I’ve received a tip regarding potential suspicious activities in this store tonight. Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary?”

Lila blinked, her long lashes fluttering, and then glanced around, seemingly gathering her thoughts. “Not really, Detective,” she replied, her voice quivering slightly. “Just the regular late-evening shoppers. And Mr. Reed,” she added, pointing towards the checkout counters where a tall, lanky man stood.

When a scruffy hitchhiker, a stern military officer, and a woods-dwelling survivalist cross paths on a spooky road through the woods, they find themselves up against the most unexpected of foes—a giant, gelatinous blob straight out of a 1950s B-movie nightmare!

Please enjoy this horror short, part of a series experimenting with artificial intelligence. I fed the location, characters, scenario, and mood into ChatGPT and asked it to craft a story, then used Stable Diffusion XL to create illustrations. How did it turn out? Well, you be the judge.

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting an eerie silver glow over the desolate road that cut through the heart of the dark, forbidding woods. The trees stood like silent sentinels, their gnarled branches reaching out like skeletal fingers, as if warning all who dared to tread upon this forsaken path. It was a place where few dared to venture, especially after nightfall.

Tom Baxter was not one to heed such warnings. He was a rugged, middle-aged man with a scruffy beard and a tattered leather jacket that had seen better days. He had been hitchhiking for hours, desperately trying to catch a ride to the next town. With a worn-out backpack slung over his shoulder, he trudged along the desolate road, his footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence.

As Tom walked, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched, that something unseen was lurking in the shadows of the woods. He quickened his pace, the gravel crunching beneath his boots, but the sense of unease only grew stronger. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it a faint, otherworldly moan that sent shivers down his spine.

Just when he was beginning to wonder if he had made a terrible mistake by venturing down this road, he saw the headlights of a vehicle approaching in the distance. Relief washed over him, and he extended his thumb, signaling to the approaching car that he needed a ride.

When an eccentric scientist’s experiment spirals into chaotic reanimation, three unlikely allies dance with grotesque lifeforms, discovering beauty in the most macabre of assemblies.

Please enjoy this horror short, part of a series experimenting with artificial intelligence. I fed the location, characters, scenario, and mood into ChatGPT and asked it to craft a story, then used Stable Diffusion XL to create illustrations. How did it turn out? Well, you be the judge.

In the eerie outskirts of a secluded township, there stood Warwick Manor, a house of endless hallways and rooms filled with peculiar secrets. Dr. Jonathan Warwick, the master of the residence, was a seasoned scientist with silver streaks flowing like spectral rivers through his raven-black hair, a man undeterred by the ethical ramifications of his experiments, bearing a fervent desire to reach into the depths of life’s mysteries.

On one fateful morning, the scientist was joined by his protege Sarah, a young science major with a keen intellect mirrored in her deep hazel eyes, a woman with vibrant energy that contradicted the grim undertakings of the laboratory. Their fellow companion was Ben, the neighbor characterized by his golden curls and befuddled demeanor, an artist gifted with the ability to breathe life into lifeless woods, making them bloom into wondrous forms of art.

As Dr. Warwick toiled in his basement lab — a place brimming with glass jars filled with floating body parts, preserved in an eerie ballet of formaldehyde — he was struck with a eureka moment, one that led to the trembling reverberation of electrical surges, orchestrating a grandiose attempt to breathe life into the dormant tissues that rested on his worktable.

In the grim and foreboding caverns outside a forsaken village, a disparate trio confront unspeakable horrors birthed from the very fabric of their fears and desires, in a battle where reality unravels and the cosmos trembles.

Please enjoy this horror short, part of a series experimenting with artificial intelligence. I fed the location, characters, scenario, and mood into ChatGPT and asked it to craft a story, then used Stable Diffusion XL to create illustrations. How did it turn out? Well, you be the judge.

In a bleak and insensate fragment of earth, where the sky seemed to brood in omnipotent despair over a forgotten and God-forsaken village, lay the den of mystery — the cavern feared by the villagers, a place both sacrosanct and forbidden.

It had been a tumultuous evening at the local tavern when a pulsating rhythm of incandescent flashes in the sky heralded the descent of alien critters into the earthly plane, spawning from the gaping mouth of the cavern. The enigmatic event acted as the crucible wherein the discordant trio’s paths converged, gravitating towards each other in a surreal ballet choreographed by the cosmos.

After hushed consultations riddled with trepidation, the Town Sheriff, a sturdy pillar of law stern and resolute; the town drunk, a man adrift in his own sea of despair and confusion, yet with a mind that bore fissures into other realities; and a biker, a wanderer with a heart forged in the far-reaching corners of the earth, drawn into the town by a cosmic maelstrom of fate formed a reluctant fellowship, determined to confront the otherworldly beings festering in the damp bowels of the cave, driven by a resolve which transmuted fear into courage, and despair into desperation.

When a weekend getaway turns into a nightmare, four friends must confront an ancient curse and face a grotesque infestation to escape a cabin’s dark secrets.

Please enjoy this horror short, part of a series experimenting with artificial intelligence. I fed the location, characters, scenario, and mood into ChatGPT and asked it to craft a story, then used Stable Diffusion XL to create illustrations. How did it turn out? Well, you be the judge.

In a clearing, surrounded by the ancient and seemingly endless forest, there stood a cabin that the locals referred to as the “Lonely Homestead”. The reason for its desolation was not known, but the stories told of it were many. It was not uncommon for locals to point to the thick canopy around the cabin and whisper tales of ghostly figures and strange creatures that inhabited those parts.

It was in this very cabin that Amelia, the high school’s prom queen with shimmering golden hair and an aura that suggested she ruled the world, decided she would spend their weekend. She believed a place like that would be the perfect setting for the selfies and stories she could flaunt back at school. The cabin was dark and gloomy, made of thick wood that creaked with the slightest movement.

Amidst haunting carnival melodies in an abandoned hospital, an FBI agent, mortician, and old priest unite to confront a vengeful killer clown bound by a century-old tragedy.

Please enjoy this horror short, part of a series experimenting with artificial intelligence. I fed the location, characters, scenario, and mood into ChatGPT and asked it to craft a story, then used Stable Diffusion XL to create illustrations. How did it turn out? Well, you be the judge.

In the dimly lit corridors of St. Bernardine’s Hospital, the pendulum-like echoes of dripping water resounded alongside the faint, haunting strains of carnival music. The hospital, long since abandoned, had become the theater for unspeakable acts – a hunting ground for a malevolent being with a painted face and blood-spattered clothing.

Agent Victor Lowell, a man in his mid-forties with greying temples and piercing blue eyes, roamed the corridor, the beam from his flashlight slicing through the shadows. The FBI had never been called for a case like this before: a killer clown leaving a trail of grotesque performances. Every victim was meticulously positioned to emulate a puppet or marionette, strings meticulously splayed from their limbs. The hunt had led Victor to St. Bernardine’s – the source of the accursed music that seemed to draw the deranged jester.

Suddenly, the beam caught a hunched figure further down the corridor. “Reverend Abner?” Victor called, recognizing the familiar stoop of the old priest. Abner, a frail man of seventy with thinning white hair and a persistent air of melancholy, had served at St. Bernardine’s chapel for years. His deep connection to the hospital was palpable; he still believed the souls of patients past roamed its abandoned halls.