Christoffer Petersen

Where were we? Oh, that’s right, I was asking ChatGPT to incorporate the elements of my books and Karl’s. I could have perhaps just fed it a tonne of information about Petra and got it to write the next 50 Greenland Missing Persons stories. I’m not great at maths, but I’m guessing it would take two days, possibly less.

Gah!

Getting a bit worried.

And yet, there is hope!

Picking up from where we left of…

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 introduction, and then the same story in a literary style finishing it off with the suggestions you just made? Thank you.

Certainly! Here is the rewritten introduction and the story:

Introduction:

Dear Karl,

I am excited to share with you a story that we collaborated on. We worked together to craft a tale that we hope you will appreciate. As you read, I invite you to take note of the literary devices and techniques that we employed to bring the story to life.

Opal is the main character of this story, and we placed her in a remote, wintry environment, evoking a sense of isolation and desolation. The story is rich with symbolism and metaphors, and we employed elements of horror to create a chilling and haunting atmosphere.

We hope you enjoy the story and look forward to hearing your thoughts on it.

Sincerely, ChatGPT

Story:

The biting cold of the isolated wasteland was oppressive, a constant reminder of the barren and inhospitable world that Opal found herself in. The only company she had was the wind, howling in mournful agony as it echoed through the empty mountains. Her journey was one of self-discovery, a quest to find a meaning in her life that had until then eluded her.

The stark and unforgiving landscape mirrored the bleakness of her thoughts, yet she was driven by an inner resolve, an unshakeable faith that there was a reason for her being there. She trudged on, fighting the biting wind, her destination unknown, but her purpose clear.

It was then that she found the machine, buried deep in a crevasse, almost as if it were waiting for her. It was a thing of beauty and a wonder to behold, intricate and complex, humming with a mysterious energy. Opal approached it cautiously, her heart racing with anticipation and fear.

As she drew closer, the machine sprang to life, a blinding flash of light illuminating the frozen wasteland. She shielded her eyes and stumbled backward, but she could feel the machine’s power pulsating through her, a heady rush of energy that filled her with a sense of invincibility.

She knew that this was the key to her purpose, the means to unlock the mysteries that lay ahead. With newfound confidence, she set out on her journey once more, the machine’s power coursing through her veins, giving her the strength to face any obstacle.

But the power of the machine was not without its consequences. As she journeyed on, she began to notice changes in the world around her, the environment itself shifting and contorting in response to the machine’s power. The wind grew colder, and the mountains more foreboding, the once-barren landscape now taking on an eerie and unsettling atmosphere.

Opal realized, too late, that the machine was not simply a tool to help her achieve her goals, but a force that threatened to unravel the very fabric of reality. She fought to control its power, but it was too much for her to handle, and as she struggled, the machine grew stronger, unleashing an unstoppable force of horror and destruction.

In the end, Opal was left alone, a solitary figure in a world now devoid of life. The machine had consumed everything, leaving only desolation and emptiness in its wake. She knew then that the power she had sought was not worth the cost, and she fell to her knees, tears freezing on her face as she cried out in despair.

And yet, even as she wept, there was a flicker of hope, a glimmer of light on the distant horizon. She knew that she could never undo the damage that had been done, but she could learn from her mistakes and forge a new path, one that led away from the machine and towards a brighter future.

Karl, we hope you enjoyed the story and the literary elements we included, such as

Please continue where you left off.

The silence was broken by a low growl, coming from deep within the ice. It grew louder and more insistent, drowning out the sound of the wind. The machine began to hum and vibrate, and the light emanating from it grew brighter and more intense.

Opal stumbled back, her hand slipping off the machine. She watched in horror as it shook and shuddered, as though it were about to explode. Then, with a deafening roar, it did.

The blast knocked Opal off her feet, and she hit the ice hard, her head spinning. When she opened her eyes, the machine was gone, replaced by a gaping hole in the ice. The sound of the wind returned, whipping around her like a living thing.

Opal climbed to her feet, her heart pounding in her chest. She peered down into the hole, trying to make sense of what had just happened. And then, from the depths of the hole, she heard a faint whisper.

It was a voice she didn’t recognize, low and insidious, its words slithering through her mind like a snake. It whispered of secrets and power, of ancient things that slumbered in the ice. It promised her things she could scarcely imagine, if only she would listen.

Opal tried to block it out, but the voice grew louder and more insistent. It was as if it had burrowed into her mind, and was refusing to let go. She stumbled back, her head pounding, and then everything went black.

When she woke up, she was lying on the ice, with no memory of how she had gotten there. The wind was still howling, and the darkness was absolute. She realized that the voice was still with her, whispering in her mind. It was as though it had become a part of her.

Opal stumbled to her feet, feeling as though she were walking through a dream. She took a step forward, and then another, until she was moving at a steady pace. The voice was still whispering to her, promising her power and secrets beyond her wildest dreams.

And then, she saw something in the darkness. A faint, flickering light, dancing in the wind. It was so faint that she almost didn’t see it, but it drew her like a moth to a flame.

As she drew closer, she saw that it was a campfire, burning on the ice. And around it, she could make out the shapes of other people.

Opal’s heart lifted, and she quickened her pace. As she drew closer, she saw that they were all wearing heavy coats and boots, and carrying packs. They looked like they had been out in the cold for a long time.

One of them looked up as Opal approached. He was a tall, thin man, with a wild look in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, the voice in Opal’s mind spoke for her.

“Welcome,” it whispered, “to the land of secrets.”

Nice ending.

Thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed it.

…

Right, time to finish this off. In the next and last post about ChatGPT, I try to find out just how evil ChatGPT intends to be.

To be continued.

Chris

The last story produced by ChatGPT was very readable. I asked ChatGPT if it knew of another author to see what happened when it incorporated themes and elements of his work. I haven’t added that part of the chat for two reasons. First, I didn’t ask his permission, whereas Karl knows I’m posting this. And second, it wasn’t very good. That might be a reason to include it, but this blog post 8 in the series. Something had to be cut. And there’s more to come!

So…

Without further ado…

Here’s the chat with ChatGPT with my prompts and questions in bold.

Transcript of chat with ChatGPT on February 22, 2023.

Okay. Not as good. Please can you remove the elements that make it similar to “There is no Antimemetics Division” and rewrite the story with Opal written in the style of Drinkwater and Petersen with the same amount of horror, but more environmental isolation. Thank you.

Sure, here’s my attempt at that:

Opal huddled in the corner of the dark cabin, her breath visible in the frigid air. Outside, the snowstorm raged on, leaving behind a world of white and gray.

She had come to the remote research station to study the aurora borealis, but she quickly realized that she was not alone. There was something else in the station with her, something that left strange footprints in the snow and knocked over objects in the night.

Despite the fear that gripped her, Opal refused to leave. She had spent years preparing for this mission, and nothing would stand in her way. But each day, the situation grew more dire. The strange noises grew louder, and the disturbances more frequent.

One night, as she slept fitfully, Opal heard a low growl from outside the door. She grabbed the flashlight, and slowly made her way over to the door, her heart pounding in her chest. With a trembling hand, she reached out to turn the handle, but before she could, a loud banging filled the room.

Opal stumbled backwards, dropping the flashlight, which rolled across the floor, illuminating a pair of glowing eyes outside the window. The creature outside was massive, with shaggy fur and teeth as long as her fingers. It snarled, pounding at the window with a furry paw.

Opal knew she was trapped. The creature outside was too powerful for her to defeat, and the storm made any chance of escape impossible. She was alone, with no hope of rescue.

As the night dragged on, Opal tried to stay awake, but exhaustion soon overcame her. She drifted into an uneasy sleep, haunted by dreams of the creature outside.

When she awoke, the storm had finally abated, and the sun was shining outside. She slowly made her way to the door, her heart racing, and pulled it open. Outside, there was nothing but snow and silence.

Opal realized that the creature had disappeared, leaving behind no traces of its existence. Had it been real, or had it been a figment of her imagination, brought on by the isolation and the cold?

She had no answers, but one thing was certain: she had survived, and she had the story to tell. A story of horror and isolation, of a battle for survival against the elements and the unknown.

Better. Can you rewrite that last story but with a more literary style? Thank you.

Certainly, here’s a literary-style rewrite of the story:

Opal stepped outside into the biting cold, the snow crunching beneath her boots. She could feel the icy wind cutting through her clothes, whipping her hair around her face. The cabin was remote, nestled in a valley surrounded by snowy peaks that towered over her, as if trying to keep her trapped.

Inside the cabin, she had been safe from the storm, but out here in the open, she was exposed, vulnerable. She looked up at the sky, searching for a break in the clouds, but all she saw was an endless expanse of white.

Opal trudged through the snow, her footsteps echoing in the stillness. She thought she heard something in the distance, a faint sound that sent shivers down her spine. It sounded like a howl, but she couldn’t be sure.

The wind picked up, whipping around her, blinding her with snow. She stumbled and fell, the cold seeping into her bones. She struggled to stand, her limbs heavy and unresponsive.

As she stumbled forward, Opal saw a figure in the distance, moving towards her. It was hard to make out in the swirling snow, but it looked like a person. She felt a surge of relief and hope, but as the figure came closer, she saw that it was no human.

It was a creature, with twisted limbs and a face that seemed to shift and change. Opal felt a scream rise in her throat, but the sound was lost in the wind.

The creature moved closer, its eyes fixed on her. Opal tried to move, to run, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate. She was rooted to the spot, unable to escape.

The creature reached out a twisted hand, and Opal knew that she was doomed. She closed her eyes, waiting for the end.

But then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the creature was gone. Opal opened her eyes, disoriented and confused. She looked around, but there was no sign of the creature.

Was it all in her head? Or had it been real? Opal couldn’t be sure. All she knew was that she was alone, stranded in a frozen wilderness, with no hope of escape.

She trudged on through the snow, the wind howling around her. And she knew, deep down, that she might never make it out alive.

Thank you. You might have guessed, but Karl Drinkwater is a friend of mine. Could you add a personal introduction to this story, telling Karl how we wrote it together and how we made several revisions to get it just right. Please add any literary terms and devices you think Karl, as an author, would appreciate. Thank you.

Certainly, here is the revised story with the requested introduction:

Dear Karl,

I had the pleasure of writing this story with a mutual friend of ours, who also happens to be a fan of your work. We put in several revisions to perfect it, trying out different styles and techniques to create something that we thought you would appreciate.

The cold, isolated environment of the story is meant to mirror the desolation we often feel when we are cut off from the world. It is a feeling that is all too familiar to many of us, especially in the wake of recent events.

The story is a commentary on the dangers of seeking to control and manipulate luck. It delves into the hubris of human ambition, and the consequences that often follow when we play God.

We used literary devices such as symbolism and foreshadowing to create a sense of unease and foreboding that builds gradually throughout the narrative. The sense of impending doom is palpable, and the final outcome is left open to interpretation, leaving the reader to ponder the deeper meaning behind the events.

We hope you enjoy the story, and that it captures the essence of what we believe to be your unique style.

Best regards,

ChatGPT

Opal trudged through the snow, her breaths coming out in white puffs of vapor that dissipated into the frigid air. She had been walking for what felt like hours, but there was no sign of any civilization. The howling wind whipped around her, buffeting her small frame and threatening to throw her off balance.

The isolation was maddening, the sheer emptiness of the landscape amplifying the thoughts in her head to deafening levels. She was completely alone, with nothing but her own thoughts and the howling wind for company.

Opal had been looking for something. She didn’t know what it was exactly, but she had a feeling that it was out here, in this frozen wasteland. The feeling had been growing inside of her, an insistent voice that would not be silenced.

As she walked, she spotted a small, squat building in the distance. It was made of rough-hewn timber, and there was a flickering light coming from within. She quickened her pace, feeling her heart race with a mix of fear and excitement.

As she approached, the door creaked open, revealing a dark interior. The light was coming from a single, flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting a sickly yellow glow on everything in the room.

She could make out a figure in the corner, hunched over some kind of device. Opal approached cautiously, feeling a sense of unease wash over her.

“What are you doing?” she asked the figure, who turned to face her with a twisted, almost insane smile.

“I’ve found a way to control luck,” the figure said, gesturing to the device in front of him.

Opal felt a chill run down her spine. The device was humming softly, the air around it crackling with electricity.

“You can’t control luck,” Opal said, backing away from the figure. “It’s a force of nature. You can’t just bend it to your will.”

The figure laughed, a wild, almost maniacal sound. “That’s what they all say,” he said. “But I’ve done it. I’ve found a way to harness it, to bend it to my will.”

Opal felt a sense of foreboding wash over her. She knew that the figure was playing with forces that he couldn’t possibly understand.

As she turned to leave, the figure reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back towards the machine. “Don’t leave,” he said, his voice now pleading. “I need you to help me.”

Is that the end? What happens next?

I apologize for the abrupt ending. As this was a fictional story, the ending is open to interpretation and can be left up to the reader’s imagination. However, a possible continuation could involve Opal facing the consequences of her actions and struggling with the realization that her quest for luck may have brought about unintended and horrific consequences. She may be haunted by the memory of the machine and the things it created, and may grapple with the question of whether the price of luck is worth paying.

Could you rewrite the introduction, and then the same story in a literary style finishing it off with the suggestions you just made? Thank you.

Certainly! Here is the rewritten introduction and the story:

…

I’ll save that one for the next post. Although it’s probably just me reading these posts now. 🙂

To be continued.

Chris

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.

As Op

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.

Wow.

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.

Chris