If you’ve been following the AI debate in the media, you’ll know that artists are worried about AI art software and applications infringing their copyright as people ask AI to create a piece of art in the style of “Van Gogh”, for example. Now, he might be dead, but there are real concerns for living artists, their style, brand, and estate.
Lots of authors have been using AI art to create covers. But the potential to be caught out when an artist recognises their work and style that has been copied to create that art. Well, it gets scary.
For authors, too.
I tested it with further prompts for ChatGPT to see what happened.
Here’s the chat with ChatGPT with my prompts and questions in bold.
Transcript of chat with ChatGPT on February 22, 2023.
Could you rewrite the last story with Opal in the style of Petersen and Drinkwater, but add a touch more horror, and make the outcome at the end more ambiguous?
Certainly, here is the rewritten story:
Opal had always been fascinated with the idea of luck. She had spent countless hours researching and writing about it, but she never imagined that she would be the one to create a machine that could manufacture it.
It was the dead of winter and Opal was stationed at an isolated research outpost in the far reaches of Greenland. The machine she had built sat in the center of the room, looking like a cross between a computer and a washing machine.
Opal switched on the machine and watched as it hummed to life. The lights on the console flickered and danced as it began to work. She hesitated for a moment, her mind racing with thoughts of what would happen if her invention actually worked. Would it change her life forever, or would it unleash something dark and unknown?
The machine let out a deafening screech, and Opal jumped back in surprise. The lights on the console began to spin faster and faster until they blurred together into a bright, blinding light.
Then, just as suddenly, the light vanished. Opal blinked several times to clear her vision and took a step forward, unsure of what to expect.
The room was silent except for the hum of the machine. Nothing had changed, or so it seemed.
Opal took a deep breath and cautiously approached the machine. As she drew closer, she noticed something strange – the air felt different. There was an almost electric charge in the air, and she could sense a strange energy radiating from the machine.
Suddenly, there was a deafening roar, and the room began to shake violently. Opal stumbled, and her head collided with the machine. She slumped to the ground, her vision blurring as she struggled to stay conscious.
When she finally came to, the room was completely dark. The machine was still humming, but the lights on the console had gone out. Opal stumbled to her feet and made her way towards the door, her head throbbing with pain.
As she stepped outside, she realized that the landscape around her had changed. The once-familiar outpost was now surrounded by towering, jagged rocks that loomed over her menacingly. The sky above was a sickly green hue, and the air was thick with the stench of decay.
Opal shuddered and tried to shake off the feeling of unease that had settled over her. She began to explore her surroundings, hoping to find some answers to what had happened.
As she journeyed deeper into the landscape, she realized that she was no longer alone. Strange creatures lurked in the shadows, their eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. They seemed to be watching her, waiting for something.
Opal pressed on, her heart racing as she tried to make sense of this twisted, alien world. The creatures continued to follow her, and she could hear their eerie whispers echoing in the darkness.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Opal came to a clearing. In the center of the clearing stood a towering figure, its shape shifting and changing in the shadows.
As she drew closer, the figure came into focus, and Opal realized with horror that it was a creature made entirely of luck. It was as if the machine had somehow brought this creature to life, and it now held her fate in its monstrous hands.
Opal tried to run, but her feet were rooted to the ground. The creature’s luck was too strong, and she could feel her own luck ebbing away with each passing moment.
The creature extended a hand, and Opal knew that it was offering her a choice – to stay in this twisted world, forever bound to its strange and unpredictable whims, or to return to her own world, forever changed by what she had experienced.
Please continue from where you stopped. It was just getting good!
As Opal stood there in the darkness, heart pounding in her chest, she heard a low growl that seemed to emanate from the depths of the machine. Her hand instinctively reached for the gun at her hip, but she hesitated, not knowing what she was up against.
Suddenly, the machine shuddered, and the growling grew louder, more menacing. Opal stepped back, and a chill ran down her spine. She could feel something sinister about to happen, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for it.
In the dim light, Opal could see the outline of a massive shape emerging from the depths of the machine. It was like no creature she had ever seen before: dark, slick skin, massive claws, and eyes that glowed with a malevolent light. It was a monster, and it was staring right at her.
Opal lifted her gun, but before she could even take aim, the creature pounced, knocking her to the ground. She fought back with all her might, but it was too powerful, too fast. As she felt the monster’s jaws closing around her, she knew this was it: the end.
But then, something strange happened. The machine emitted a bright, blinding light that engulfed the entire room, and the creature let out a bone-chilling scream before disappearing. Opal lay there for a few moments, dazed and unsure of what had just happened.
When she got up, the machine was silent, the luck serum within now gone. She looked around, and there was no sign of the creature. Had it all been a figment of her imagination, the result of the machine’s malfunction?
Opal walked out of the laboratory, her heart still pounding in her chest. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still watching her, still lurking in the shadows. As she stepped outside, the cold of the Greenlandic winter hit her, and she felt a new sense of fear wash over her.
She looked back at the lab, now ominously silent, and wondered if she had made a grave mistake. She knew that the power to create luck could be dangerous in the wrong hands, and now that she had unleashed something malevolent into the world, there was no telling what might happen.
Opal knew that she had to destroy the machine before it was too late. But as she walked away, a sense of foreboding lingered in her mind. She had a feeling that her troubles were far from over, and that the machine’s power would have a lasting impact on her life.
And as she looked back at the lab one last time, she couldn’t help but wonder if the luck she had created was just a facade, a thin veil covering a much darker reality.
I like that.
Thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it!
Can you make that same story you just wrote even darker, colder, and scarier?
Certainly, here is a revised version of the story that is darker, colder, and scarier:
Opal had always known the ice could be treacherous, but the realization of just how cruel it could be hit her as she struggled through the whiteout blizzard. The biting cold gnawed at her flesh, and her boots sank into the snow with each step, making it feel as though she were trudging through quicksand.
She thought about the machine she had brought with her, the one that could create luck. She knew the risks of using it, but the lure of the potential rewards had been too great to ignore. And now, as she stumbled through the snowstorm, she began to wonder if it had been a mistake.
The wind howled through the peaks and valleys of the mountains surrounding her, and Opal’s eyes stung from the constant bombardment of ice crystals. She struggled on, driven by a determination to reach the abandoned research station, her only hope of finding shelter in the desolate wilderness.
After what felt like hours, Opal finally caught a glimpse of the station through the swirling snow. It was a ramshackle structure, its metal walls dented and rusted from years of exposure to the elements. But it was a haven, and she quickened her pace, eager to escape the bitter cold.
As she stepped inside, she felt a wave of relief wash over her. The space was small and cramped, but it was warm and dry. She sat down on a rickety old chair and took a deep breath, closing her eyes for just a moment.
When she opened them again, she realized the room was not empty. A figure stood in the shadows, watching her. It was a woman, but her features were obscured by the dim light.
“Who are you?” Opal asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The woman stepped into the light, revealing a face that was twisted with anger and malice. Opal gasped in horror as she recognized the face of Mia, the friend she had abandoned so many years ago.
“Mia, what are you doing here?” Opal asked, her voice trembling.
Mia’s laughter echoed through the room, sending shivers down Opal’s spine. “I’ve been waiting for you, Opal. I knew you would come.”
Opal tried to back away, but her boots slipped on the icy floor, and she fell to the ground. Mia approached her, her eyes glinting with a dangerous light.
“You shouldn’t have come here, Opal. This place is cursed,” Mia said, her voice low and menacing. “You’ve brought something with you, something that doesn’t belong in this world.”
Opal’s heart raced as she realized the truth of Mia’s words. The machine she had brought with her was not just a tool for creating luck; it was a gateway to something far more sinister.
Mia leaned closer, her breath hot on Opal’s neck. “We’re going to be here for a very long time, Opal. You and me and the darkness. And if we’re lucky, we might just survive the night.”
Opal’s mind raced as she tried to come up with a plan to escape, but it was too late. Mia had already unleashed the darkness, and it was spreading, consuming everything in its path.
As the hours turned to days, and the days turned to weeks, Opal and Mia were consumed by the darkness, their bodies and minds twisted and deformed by the power of the machine. And in the end, there was nothing left but the cold, cruel embrace of the ice, and the empty echo of their screams as they were swallowed up by the howling winds.
I’m glad you enjoyed it! Let me know if there’s anything else I can assist you with.
At this point, as my pension is almost nonexistent, I’m starting to think my plan for Jane and I to live off the royalties of my books when we’re older…. Yeah. Not looking good.
To be continued.
Ana Catarina Palma Neves says
Ohoh… ChatGPT is getting better. You are starting to tame it! But it still misses the “awe factor”, no worries.
Christoffer Petersen says
We’ll see. 😉