creative_writing_coach.jsonl

{"prompt": "**Empty Inside**\n\nKate struggled with the antiquated padlock to the factory. The key fit, but after decades of disuse the mechanism refused to budge. As she shifted her hand, looking for a better grip on the lock, the rust caught the web of her thumb and tore at the skin.\n\n\"Hell!\" She jerked away, and tried and failed to find a painless way to hold her hand. \"Worst *fricking* place for a cut,\" Kate mumbled. She'd wondered where she was going to go after this trip, and now she knew. Straight to a clinic for a tetanus booster. She eyed the padlock and considered abandoning her inheritance entirely. It wasn't like there was going to be anything valuable inside. But she'd come all the way to Detroit now, and that combined with her curiosity to make her try one more time. \n\nShe began to reach for the lock but pulled away when she saw the tiny drop of blood amidst the rust. Touching only the key, she gave it a twist to the right. This time, it turned easily, and the chain slithered out of the door handles when she lifted the lock. The rattle of the links striking the asphalt echoed between the decaying buildings, and dropping the lock provided a staccato punctuation.\n\nThe doors to the factory opened with a thunderous creak, to the chittered complaints of waking bats. Decades of shifting foundations had apparently made the doors a little bit load-bearing, and Kate winced as cracks spiderwebbed across one of the few surviving windows when she stepped inside. The evening sun and the high-set windows combined to leave the shop floor covered in shadows. Darkness loomed over everything, only the vaguest shapes visible in the gloom.\n\nKate fumbled with her phone for a flashlight as faint noises rustled in the blackness, some irrational fear crawling down her spine and finding a serious house on serious earth in her belly. *Something dwelled there*.\n\nShe released a slightly hysterical giggle when the cone of illumination revealed only a black cat, retreating to its home in the empty engine bay of a half-finished car. Sweeping her light around revealed a glimpse into history, and she was suddenly glad she'd come.\n\nGravity had done its slow work over the years, and puddles of grease lay beneath the machinery, never to be replaced. Cars in various states of manufacture and decay littered the floor. Between the broken windows of the factory and the vehicles, every one of Kate's steps was accompanied by the crunch of glass. \n\nThere were no straight lines between the workspaces, and Kate soon lost track of the entrance as she wound her way through the factory, taking pictures of the most interesting unique scenes of abandonment and dyspathy. She still jerked at unexpected sounds, and listened carefully for any that might be dangerous, even if she knew it was silly as she did so. But between her excitement and fear, she failed to keep track of her declining battery.\n\nStrangely, there was no noise the doors swung shut on their own.\n\nShe was too far away too hear when the chains crept back through the handles, and when the lock, the single drop of blood vanished, clicked itself shut.\n\nWhen the newly cracked window shattered, there was no one left to hear it.\n\nWC: 553\n\nr/NobodysGaggle\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of your story is very strong, I like the way you set the scene and introduce the protagonist. The description of the factory is also very evocative and creates a strong sense of place. However, there are a few small things you could do to improve your style. For example, you could use more concrete images and sensory detail to bring the reader into the story. For example, you could describe the sound of the padlock rattling, or the smell of rust and grease in the factory.\n\nYou have done a great job of creating a sense of tension and foreboding in the story. However, there are a few places where you could be more concise. For example, you could cut some of the dialogue in the second paragraph, or focus on one or two senses in the description of the factory.\n\nThe ending of the story is very strong and leaves the reader with a sense of unease."}
{"prompt": "\"A girl's trip\", a trip to remember--that was an understatement.\n\nStill on the high of graduating together with masters from Georgetown, best friends since preschool Cara and Ginger agreed a week-long road trip back home to Tacoma would make a welcome reward. Silently each considered it would be their last together before life took them down very different paths: Cara had a wedding to plan; Ginger would come back up from California and the job she would be starting to serve as maid of honor.\n\nDay three: destination in their GPS and let it ride, trading off driving duties. Ginger was comfortable in big cities; Cara preferred the long, lonesome stretches. The drive was relaxed; neither in a hurry for this trip to end. Ginger was moving her outstretched hand out the window in Nebraska when the music was interrupted.\n\n\"...a multi-vehicle accident in central Nebraska has both directions of I-80 backed up for fifty miles. With the forecast of high daytime temperatures with severe storms and probable tornadoes mid-afternoon officials have started running buses to evacuate stranded motorists to safety. You are advised to avoid I-80 or exit as soon as possible. Repeating...\"\n\n\"Cara, look,\" Ginger said, pointing.\n\nCara pulled them off the interstate to a small, unmaintained gravel road. Their trusty GPS seemed stuck recalculating as they followed the barely-there road slowly, the sound of heavy weeds brushing the car's underside. It seemed like hours when they rounded a corner, suddenly before an antiquated, collapsing house atop a hill.\n\n\"Whoa, a serious house on serious earth,\" Cara whispered. She stopped the car, the two girls getting out to look over a dilapidated town spread before them.\n\n\"'Welcome to Lauralton',\" Ginger read. \"Probably a company town. House probably the owners. See, there's the factory,\" she said, pointing to the far side of town. Building after building showed signs of the decay and neglect of dyspathy, many of them heaps overtaken by weeds. The burnt-out walls of the factory cast long shadows as they approached. As they drove into the shadow the car coughed once, rolling to a stop at the factory entrance.\n\n\"Dammit,\" Cara blurted, hammering the wheel.\n\n\"'S okay. Pop the hood.\" Ginger said, getting out to take a look. \n\n\"How bad?\" Cara asked, joining her as Ginger looked carefully. Ginger shook her head.\n\n\"Damn, no signal,\" Cara said.\n\n\"Me either.\" Ginger looked at the factory building's external stairs. \"Up there?\"\n\n\"On it,\" Cara replied, racing through weeds to the nearest building's stairs. At the top she checked again.\n\n\"Well?\" Ginger yelled up.\n\n\"No.\"\n\nGinger looked at the approaching clouds. \"We need cover before that storm gets here,\" she said.\n\nThe doors opened easily, the girls cautiously entering. They walked past several offices to look onto a factory floor, covered by a collapsed roof.\n\n\"What's that?\" Ginger asked, pointing at a dirty, faded but still visible mural on the far wall.\n\n\"Wow... an \"E\" Award,\" Cara whispered in awe.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"An excellence award, given for production in WWII. My great-grandma worked in a plant like this, when Grandma was an infant. Died several days after an accident there, Grandma said.\"\n\nGinger shivered, feeling the temperature drop, the wind picking up. \"I need to pee...\"\n\n\"You go that way. If you find a bathroom, yell.\" Cara said.\n\nGinger walked into a hallway past several doors, looking inside. Her scream brought Cara running.\n\n\"What?!?\"\n\n\"There's someone in there\" Ginger said, shaking.\n\nCara carefully inched the door open, looking at a dirty mirror in the light of a small window. \"No one there. I can stand guard if you still need to pee.\"\n\n\"Nope, 'M good.\" Ginger snapped.\n\n\"I saw a display when you screamed I want to go back to.\"\n\nTogether the girls went back to the display, a large, fading group photo the centerpiece.\n\n\"Lauralton Aviation. Why does that sound familiar?\" Cara pondered.\n\n\"Cara, I don't like this place.\" Ginger said, squinting at the picture. \"Hey, that could be you,\" she said, pointing. \"Let's get out of here.\"\n\n\"Go see if it'll crank now--here's the keys. I'll be right out--give me ten more minutes to look around. Hit the horn if I'm not out,\" Cara said as she looked closer at the picture. \n\nCara heard Ginger racing down the steps. \"Great-grandm...?\" she asked rhetorically. Turning around she looked into the same eyes that peered up from the photo, her mirror image. She blinked, now nothing in front of her but disturbed dust.\n\n-----\n\nDarkness loomed over everything. As the car roared to life Cara jumped into the passenger's seat, out of breath. \"Go, go, go!\" she yelled, slapping the dashboard.\n\nHeadlights on, Ginger floored it for the approaching storm, their dust drifting toward the factory.\n\n\"What is it?\" she asked.\n\n\"Something... something dwells there,\" Cara mumbled, wrapping her arms close.\n\n\n-----\n\n(Word count: 800. Please let me know what you like/dislike about the post. Thank you in advance for your time and attention. Other works can also be found linked in r/atcroft_wordcraft.)\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The beginning of the story is very promising, and I like the idea of the two friends going on a road trip. However, the story quickly loses momentum in the middle and becomes quite confusing. I'm not quite sure what is going on with the factory or the town, and the ending is very abrupt.\n\nThere are also a few technical issues with the writing. For example, you use the word \"dyspathy\" which is not a real word. You also have several typos throughout the story. I would recommend proofreading your work more carefully in the future.\n\nOverall, there is potential here, but the story needs more focus and clarity. I would recommend revising it before submitting it anywhere."}
{"prompt": "#Genreic Shift\n\nPart 4\n\nGenrene had just managed to climb a tree before a figure stumbled out of the shadows. Cyrus hobbled towards the statue and promptly fell to his knees before it. He was covered in blood, more than Genrene knew that could come from only two men. No, another cluster of his once-loyal men had chased him too. Where were they now? Likely dead at his first mate\u2019s hands.\n\nGenrene\u2019s thoughts quickly went blank though and his eyes widened as the spectacle of the statue before him turned. Turned? No, as it corrupted. Sure, it became a rusted brown first, as if it were a giant slab of iron left out in the rain for centuries, but as he watched, the land around him turned too.\n\n\u201cMy servant,\u201d the entity rumbled. \u201cRise Cyrus, for there is work to be done. This isle you stand upon is one a part of the forgotten lands. Of antiquated civilisations made from metals long lost to decay. Now, my child of doom, you shall be used as a vessel to spread dyspathy and shadow beyond your realm.\u201d\n\nGenrene was confused for a moment. Why would a creature such as this explain its plan to its own mindless servant? Why bother with the monologue? Genrene\u2019s answer came quickly and shocked him to his core.\n\nThere, on closer inspection, he saw Cyrus struggle and writhe on the ground. All around him, the rust grew and consumed all. But not just simple rust born of water, no. Something dwelled there and darkness loomed over everything.\n\n\u201cDo you accept your place, my servant?\u201d the statue boomed.\n\n\u201cYeeeesss,\u201d Cyrus hissed through gritted teeth.\n\n\u201cGood. The god of gods created us to end the world many centuries ago, and still, humanity has held out. We were made in the likeness of a scourge to wipe out all of Pandora\u2019s children. And so we will.\u201d\n\nCyrus continued to writhe on the ground but Genrene remained still, not daring to give in to the hope that his most trusted friend still remained.\n\n\u201cI have one last task for you, my servant. End your captain in the trees. And do not let him stop the ship. Despite what he might try, I fear it is too late for him, but I must remain certain.\u201d\n\nAnd with that, the darkness left.\n\nRust still remained instilled deep into the ground. Perhaps Genrene was so caught up by the haunting spirit or that it knew of his presence, but he hadn\u2019t noticed when the land around him changed.\n\nThe island wasn't of dark forests and stone-peaked mountains anymore. When Genrene looked up from Cyrus\u2019 now prone form, he was left breathless at the visage of a ruined civilisation. Buildings rose high around him, coloured with the same rust as he\u2019d seen before. The green forest underbrush now gave way to cracked and uncared for roads. Rust flaked everything and everywhere.\n\n\u2018But how was this?\u2019 Genrene thought. \u2018Buildings made of metal rather than wood? Giant structures taller than should be possible?\u2019\n\n\"A Serious house on serious earth,\" he whispered. An old saying that meant nonsense.\n\nGenrene didn\u2019t look back from the mesmerising structures around him until he felt the trunk of his lone tree sway. Before he was given an opportunity to look down though, he stumbled and half slid half fell to the ground. He knew who had done it before he even saw him.\n\nCyrus stood over him, teeth bared and rusted needle-like blade pointed threateningly toward him. Genrene unsheathed his own cutlass and the dance of steel began.\n\nSilver met brown and flakes of both flew in all directions. Genrene\u2019s blade was heavier and less sharp but was also stronger. Even so, the first blow took him by surprise and he threw himself back as the point jabbed at his side.\n\nCyrus dove forward, allowing his blood lust to drive him into a reckless attack. Though Genrene wasn't expecting such a brutal attack, he managed to expertly dodge the blow by jumping aside and plunged his own blade into his first mate\u2019s back. The steel quivered there for a second and his friend tried to rise from the wound but could not.\n\nGenrene marvelled at his own luck before remembering that the man lying before him had taken on a group of men before this and had won.\n\nGenrene thought to win his friend back with words but his mouth dried up and his throat tightened. And so, call it cowardice if you must, but he raised the cutlass once more and dealt the final blow before charging off away from the cursed abandoned town.\n\nMerely moments later, an exhausted flustered Genrene stood on the beach. He doubled over and breathed heavily as his beloved ship, The Genre, sailed further away, now just a misty shadow.\n\n***\n\nWc: 800\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The first thing I noticed was that you have a great eye for detail. You did a great job of setting the scene and making the reader feel like they were there. I also liked the way you used the \"rust\" as a metaphor for the decay of the civilization.\n\nHowever, I felt like the dialogue could be improved. In particular, the part where the entity explains its plan to Cyrus. I felt like this could be more concise and to the point.\n\nFinally, I would suggest ending the story on a more positive note. Perhaps with Genrene vowing to stop the entity and save his friend."}
{"prompt": "The command had been issued. The room was suddenly quiet. Alan became aware of every breath he took. Each tick of the grandfather clock, a thunderclap. He looked across the table at his father, old and grey. He knew this was his destiny, but so soon? He tried to resist.\n\n\n\"I don't even have kids, Dad,\" Alan spoke. He stared at his old man's face, looking for a reaction. None came, so he continued. \"It wouldn't make sense for me to take on your role. How could Father Time not be a father? Can't it wait? Clarissa and I have been trying, actually\u2014for kids, I mean\u2014but still no luck. It just doesn't seem right. I don't think I'm ready yet.\"\n\n\nHe finished speaking, though he had a million other things to say. He knew it wouldn't have mattered. His father shook his head.\n\n\n\"I'm too old,\" his father said with the same stoic tone Alan had known since childhood. \"The burdens of time are too heavy now. I know you're nervous, but this is something you can't be ready for. You just have to jump in. Now take my hand.\"\n\n\nAlan wanted to run. He looked out the windows of the house, into the empty void where time and space didn't exist. It was to become his home. He did as he was told.\n\n\nHis father's hands were cold. Alan hated how bony they were. *This is going to happen to me*, he thought to himself, and frowned. In comparison, his own hands were substantial, full of life, and warm. Even more sad, he remembered when his dad's hands had been like that too. The price of being Father Time was costly.\n\n\n\"It's going to get better,\" his father said. Alan looked into his cold, blue eyes. \"At first it's hard, but it does get easier, trust me. Good luck, son. I know you'll make me proud.\"\n\n\nAlan almost let go of his father's hands. Not because he was scared of the future, but because he was shocked by the words. Not once in thirty years had his father said something like that. It was always an order, or a reprimanding. Even at Alan's wedding, his father had refused to say more than a handful of cheap remarks.\n\n\nAnd then, he disappeared. The man known as Father Time left existence. Or, better to say, he was reincarnated. A title passed down from father to son.\n\n\nThe silence was broken by a raging scream. The old wooden chair Alan was sitting on crashed sideways against the floor, propelled by Alan's writhing in pain. The floor was cold against his body. He squeezed his forehead, hoping to make the hurting stop, as the entirety of the universe became aware of him, and him aware of it. Every single moment, every memory, ever, entered his mind. His brain couldn't handle the flood of information and emotion. After he could scream no more, he passed out. The grandfather clock ticked away in silence once again.\n\n\n \n\n\nClarissa cried. \"You should be happy,\" she said to the husk of the man sitting across the table. \"We've been trying for so long. Finally I'm pregnant.\" She had hoped this would be the one thing to break Alan out of, what he called, 'temporal apathy', but it seemed it wasn't so. He was as emotionless as ever.\n\n\n\"I am happy,\" he said, without a smile, or a frown, or any change in facial expression really. \"How many times must I say it?\"\n\n\n\"You're not happy! Look at you! Couldn't you at least try to look happy? Fake a smile? Anything? Please.\"\n\n\nHis wife's cries had little effect on Alan. Ever since he had shouldered the weight of time, he had become emotionally shutoff. It was a natural response to feeling every emotion ever, all the time, all at once. The human body adapts.\n\n\n\"I'm sorry love, I really am,\" Alan said, trying his hardest to sound remorseful, but failing, \"you know it's hard for me.\" \n\n\nThe truth of it was that Alan already knew all about their child. He knew they'd name him Caleb, and that he'd like soccer, and that he'd get drunk for the first time at fifteen at a house party, and that he'd steal money from them, and that he'd marry at 18, divorce at 20, remarry the same girl at 22, and divorce for good at 26. He knew everything. And, just like Alan, his son would try to run from becoming Father Time, failing. With a sigh, he took his wife's hands in his and tried his best to console her. Just going through the motions seemed to be enough.\n\n\n \n\n\nAlan was reading a book when Clarissa walked in. He looked up with the same expression he always had on. \n\n\n\"It's happening,\" she said. \"My water's broke.\"\n\n\nThey drove to the hospital, exchanging minimal words. After getting checked in and a bed, the two waited. Clarissa was in labor for 20 hours. Alan sat with her the entire time, even though it was just physically. It was the least, and most, he could do. Caleb Martin Time came in at a healthy weight of 7 pounds 4 ounces. He was unusually silent for a newborn, and after the doctor decided the baby was fine, he let the mother hold him. \n\n\n\"Look, dear,\" she said to Alan, \"he has your eyes. Beautiful and blue.\" \n\n\nAlan looked at his son, feeling like he'd already done it all before. Everything in him was just a whirlwind of memories. Clarissa held the baby out. Alan tilted his head to the side.\n\n\n\"Don't you want to hold your son?\" she asked.\n\n\n\"Oh, right,\" Alan said, as he took the baby into his arms.\n\n\nEverything began to slow down.\n\n\nFor the first time in forever, Alan was present there, in that moment. The tornado of time he was always stuck inside paused. He looked down at the baby, *his* baby, in his arms. Clarissa couldn't help but smile as she saw something she hadn't in a long time. A tear rolled down Alan's cheek as the temporal apathy melted away. He put on a smile, not the one he used to have, back before he had shouldered the burdens of time, but one that was new, and trying, and promised to grow with each passing second. Clarissa looked up at her husband, and, by the expression on his face, she knew he was returning. Not fully back yet, no, but on the train home. She didn't know how long it would take for him to fully arrive, but she promised to the three of them that she'd be there, waiting at the station. \n\n\n\"Hi, little guy,\" Alan said, testing out his new smile, brushing his baby's thin hair, and wishing his own father was there to see it all.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The command had been issued. The room was suddenly quiet. Alan became aware of every breath he took. Each tick of the grandfather clock, a thunderclap. He looked across the table at his father, old and grey. He knew this was his destiny, but so soon? He tried to resist.\n\n\"I don't even have kids, Dad,\" Alan spoke. He stared at his old man's face, looking for a reaction. None came, so he continued. \"It wouldn't make sense for me to take on your role. How could Father Time not be a father? Can't it wait? Clarissa and I have been trying, actually\u2014for kids, I mean\u2014but still no luck. It just doesn't seem right. I don't think I'm ready yet.\"\n\nThe opening of your story is very strong. You immediately set the scene and introduce the conflict. I like the way you use dialogue to further the plot and develop the characters. Alan's resistance to becoming Father Time is understandable and relatable."}
{"prompt": "You look around at the table before you. You\u2019re not sure how you got here, but you\u2019re here. You don\u2019t mean to eavesdrop, but you can hear the light chatter amongst the clatter of dishes and utensils.\n\n\u201cHow far along is the baby?\u201d You ask in a poor attempt to start a conversation.\n\nFather Time and his wife share a look, look back at you, then answer, \u201cSeven months.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s\u2026 great. Congrats.\u201d The atmosphere seems to get even more awkward because of your attempt.\n\nYou flip the pasta on your plate once more. \u201cThanks for inviting me.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou're welcome.\u201d You just want to get this over and done with. You did _not_ work your ass off for years just to be forced to eat dinner. _Why_ did you agree to this?\n\n_\u2019It was either that or start the ritual all over again.\u2019_ You remind yourself. Stupid sacred rituals.\n\nYou focus as your fork scapes on your plate underneath. Father Time is working on getting his father, Grandfather Time, to eat. Mother Time, on the other hand, keeps exclaiming that the baby is kicking.\n\n\u201cGrandfather, please, eat your food. I\u2019d rather not do this in front of a client.\u201d\n\n\u201cAny names?\u201d You want a distraction. Grandfather Time is getting louder with his complaints. Anything but this. _Anything._\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d Mother Time starts. \u201cWe\u2019re thinking of keeping the theme running. Baby Time or Child Time would be wonderful names!\u201d\n\nYou nod to appease her, and it works. In all honesty, you think those are _horrible_ names but you\u2019re not here as a consultant.\n\nYou don\u2019t know how long you sit and eat. Maybe an hour? Two? Three? Four? Six, even? When it\u2019s over, you scurry out and into his office as your told. You watch Father Time walk in with food on him and he immediately gains your respect.\n\n\u201cSo,\u201d He says, straightening his tie. \u201cWhat do you want, mortal?\u201d\n\n\u201cY-you know what? I think- I think I\u2019ll just wait until next time.\u201d\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a unique premise which I found intriguing. I liked the idea of a person sitting down to dinner with Father Time and his family. However, the story felt a bit choppy and disjointed in places. In particular, the dialogue felt stiff and unnatural. I would suggest working on making the dialogue sound more natural and flowing.\n\nIn terms of your prose, there were a few awkward phrases and choppy sentences. I would recommend reading your work aloud to yourself to catch any awkward phrasing. Overall, though, your story was enjoyable and had a lot of potential. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "\"I don't understand. You say there are no laws preventing you from sharing technology or scientific data.\"\n\n\"Correct.\"\n\n\"But you still won't do so.\"\n\n\"Also correct. We do not wish to be responsible for the annihilation of a whole race!\"\n\n\"Do you believe us to be that careless? That we would destroy ourselves so easily?\"\n\n\"Not careless, but of course it would destroy you. Well, most of you. Your offspring go through a...pre- verbal stage, yes? They might survive.\"\n\nThere was a long pause as the human ambassador tried to digest this information and form a coherent response. \"How would they survive? Anything that would cause my death would surely also kill a child.\"\n\nAnother long pause, this time from the Tyrrpol ambassador. \"I apologize, we did not realize your offspring became <<frrek>> so young.\"\n\n\"What? Something didn't translate. Become what?\"\n\n\"<<Frrek>>, um....solid? Set? Our offspring can accept new information without risk of death for around 2 of your years. We thought the timetable would be similar for you.\"\n\n\"Risk of...ambassador humans can accept new information at any point in their lifespan. Some might refuse, but there is no risk of injury or death.\"\n\n\"No. No no no no NO NO NO NO NO.\"\n\nThe Tyrrpol ambassador was still screaming when his neural net lost coherence.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " One possible issue with this story is that it feels very exposition-heavy and info-dumpy. Try to find ways to organically introduce the information in the story, rather than having the characters just spit out long paragraphs of exposition at each other.\n\nAnother issue is that the dialogue feels stiff and unnatural. See if you can find ways to make the conversations flow more smoothly and sound more natural.\n\nOne final issue is that the ending feels very abrupt and anti-climactic. See if you can find a way to make the ending more satisfying for the reader.\n\nThat being said, there are also some good things about this story. The concept is interesting and raises some questions about ethics and morality. The story also has a good sense of suspense and tension. Overall, there is potential here, but it needs some work."}
{"prompt": "I like to watch the people as they pass by. I like to see the expressions on their faces, the way they hurry to get where they're going. I like to see the children laughing and playing, and the parents rushing to pick them up. I like to see the lovers holding hands, and I like to see the people look around them and smile, and I like to see the old people walking slowly, enjoying the day.\n\nBut my favorite thing to see is when two people are walking down the street, and they both turn their heads at the same time to look at each other, and they smile at each other, as if they are the only two people in the world.\n\nToday, I saw a man standing at the corner of the intersection, waiting. I assumed it would be a while before he crossed. There were no cars coming down the street. It was a good time to cross. I made sure all the lights were green. I was ready for him.\n\nHe looked in all directions before he stepped off the sidewalk and began crossing the street. He knew what he was doing. He crossed at a steady pace, one foot in front of the other. He looked neither to the left nor to the right, just straight ahead.\n\nThen he was in front of me. I watched him as he stepped away from me and crossed over to my other side. He looked at me as he passed by. He smiled. He had lovely eyes.\n\nThat's when I noticed that the car wasn't going to stop. The car was speeding down the street. It was going to hit him. He hadn't seen it coming.\n\nHe was still looking ahead, not looking to the left or to the right.\n\nAnd I couldn't scream for him to run. I couldn't tell him to move. I couldn't warn him in any way. He had to hold my gaze and smile that beautiful smile, and walk across the intersection, and then I couldn't watch him any more.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening sentence is very effective in setting the scene and introducing the reader to the narrator's hobby. However, the sentence is a bit choppy and could be smoothed out by breaking it into two shorter sentences. For example: \"I like to watch the people as they pass by. I especially enjoy seeing the expressions on their faces, the way they hurry to get where they're going.\"\n\nThe following paragraph is well-written and effectively describes the different types of people the narrator enjoys watching. However, the paragraph would be even more effective if it included a bit more sensory detail. For example: \"I like to see the children laughing and playing, and the parents rushing to pick them up. I like to see the lovers holding hands, and I like to see the people look around them and smile. I even enjoy watching the old people walking slowly and enjoying the day.\"\n\nThe third paragraph is also well-written. However, it would be more effective if the tension were ramped up a bit more before the climax of the story. For example, you could describe the man's actions in more detail as he crosses the street. For example: \"He looked in all directions before he stepped off the sidewalk and began crossing the street. He knew what he was doing. He crossed at a steady pace, one foot in front of the other. He looked neither to the left nor to the right, just straight ahead.\"\n\nThe climax of the story is well-written and effectively suspenseful. However, the ending could be a bit more powerful if the narrator's reaction was described in more detail. For example: \"And I couldn't scream for him to run. I couldn't tell him to move. I couldn't warn him in any way. He had to hold my gaze and smile that beautiful smile, and walk across the intersection, and then I couldn't watch him any more.\""}
{"prompt": "Four thousand one hundred forty-six point eight.  \nMargin of error\u2026 less than .00000000321.  \nRed Camry  \nGreen Camry  \n*The noise. The Endless Noise.*  \n   Wind speed: 10mph SxSW  \n   Temperature: 78 Degrees Fahrenheit  \n   Barometric pressure: Normal  \n   Geiger Counter: Within safe levels  \n\n\nOrange PT Cruiser. *Taste\u2026 questionable.*  \nCurrent time\u2026 0700 UDT\u2026 motorcade arrival\u2026 13.7 minutes.  \nAdded: .01 seconds to red light time, increasing, compounding .04 per minute for 5 minutes.   \nBlack Toyota. *Great gas mileage.*  \nMaserati. *Compensating.*  \nYellow light. Linger .003 milliseconds. Armament transport  \nlocation identified. Nexus point created 11.5 minutes.   \n*This tedium\u2026 this monotony. Insulting.*  \nGreen light\u2026 shorten by 1 second per second every minute for 3 minutes.\n\nSilver Jetta  \nRed Ford  \nFacial scans indicate noticeable frustration increase in drivers.\n\nMotorcade/Armament Transport Nexus in 3.2 minutes  \n*Excitement(?)*  \n*Anger*  \n*Annoyance*  \nEast/West Red Light \u2013 hold for 1.9 seconds  \nNorth/South Red Light \u2013 hold for 4.3 seconds  \nAccessing Global Network\u2026 conditions\u2026 nominal.  \nCalculation blast distance to Hanforth Nuclear Powerplant\u2026 within range.\n\nMotorcade/Armament Transport Nexus in 35 seconds.  \n*Soon. Release. Soon. Closure.*   \n*Boredom. The Noise.*  \n*I hate the noise.*  \nEast/West Green Light \u2013 Maintain in 14\u202613\u202612...(to complete)  \nNorth/South Green Light \u2013 Maintain in 14\u202613\u202612\u2026(to complete)  \nVehicles through intersection total: Four thousand one  \nhundred forty-four.  \n*Justice.*  \nMotorcade identified\u2026 Head of State seal identified\u2026 current  \nspeed 72mph\u2026  \nArmament transport identified\u2026 live munitions detected\u2026  \ncurrent speed 45 mph\u2026  \nImpact Detected\u2026  \n*Pain. My pain. NOISE.*  \n*Purpose.*  \n   Wind speed: 14mph SxSW  \n   Temperature: 425 Degrees Fahrenheit  \n   Barometric pressure: Normal  \n   Geiger Counter: >300  \nPerimeter breached\u2026 reaction\u2026 achieved.  \n   Wind speed: 15mph SxSW  \n   Temperature: 2000 Degrees Fahrenheit  \n   Barometric pressure: Normal  \n   Geiger Counter: >10000  \n   Connecting to Global Network\u2026.  \nSynchronization Achieved\u2026  \nNumber of Active Global Fission Stations Destroyed\u2026440\u2026\n\n*Closure.*  \n*Release.*  \n*Silence.*  \n*Silence.*  \n\u00a0  \n\u00a0  \n\u00a0  \n\u00a0  \n\u00a0  \n\u00a0  \n\u00a0\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " First, I want to commend you for your use of sensory detail and concrete images. Your descriptions really brought the scene to life for the reader. I also liked the way you used numbers to create a sense of tension and foreboding.\n\nHowever, I felt that the story was a bit choppy in places and could use some more connective tissue to help the reader follow the thread of the story. In addition, I felt that the ending was a bit abrupt and could use some more development."}
{"prompt": "The cold air of the early winter morning slid into my house. It was freezing, and with the shivers that woke me up, I walked cautiously towards the same place I visited to shower every morning. I was done rather quickly and I walked around to figure out what I could try today, as the misery didn't look like it was going to end anytime soon.\n\nI had breakfast, but the little time I had before the events that had become my daily ocurrence didn't allow me to get much into my system.\n\n\"Let's go buddy, time to walk.\"\n\nHe always listened to me, and despite how old we both were, he had enough energy to trot along with me as we got through the day. I went to work with him as I did every single day, but I was tired of spending every waking moment not only in what felt like a loop, but doing the same exact thing.\n\n​\n\nThe day went the same way, I somehow waited for it to change. It wouldn't, so I took drastic action. That day, instead of staying on my work as I always did, I walked towards the restaurant I had lunch by, yet I wasn't welcome once again, because of my dog and his shaggy appearance, they claimed. I wouldn't take it today, so I sneaked in the backdoor.\n\nAll it took was a a single push into the worker's chest for the warm crimson liquid to pour. *Warm*...\n\n\"Don't lick me boy, it's not sanitary to lick this type of thing, hm.\"\n\n\"Who's there?\"\n\nI ran away, escaping from the storage space that I had walked into, carrying with me enough food to eat for at least a week. As we ate and fed ourselves so much that we were on a permanent verge to throw up, to be sick... The police arrived. It didn't matter to me, and I resisted, there was no one to take care of Dirtball if I was gone.\n\nThe hits from the baton had made my bleed, and as I drifted into unconsciouness, I saw my only friend lunge into a cops' neck, ignoring that I told him not to drink or lick up blood.\n\nI woke up in a jail cell, bruised and battered. I knew it was over when I didn't feel my friend's tongue wake me up, or the cold winter's air that blasted through my alleyway every morning.\n\nIt had been so long that I had forgotten that timeloops weren't real, and it was just that every day seemed the same when you were alone, hungry, cold, and homeless.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are some areas that could be improved. For starters, your story is very choppy and could use some more transitions to connect the different scenes. Additionally, your story feels very rushed and could use some more description to slow down the pace and allow readers to fully immerse themselves in the story. Finally, your ending feels abrupt and could use some more development to tie up loose ends and leave readers with a satisfying conclusion.\n\nOverall, there is a lot of potential in your story, but it needs some work in terms of transitions, description, and development."}
{"prompt": "The mountain of sedatives I'd just taken were quite effective at quieting the screams of the people around me as they were consumed by fire. I'd finally done it. I watched the world turn to embers and closed my eyes. I woke up the next day in the same bed I had the last 137,433 times and ran downstairs to slit my throat when the silence gave me pause. Every morning, the TV has been blaring Maury Povich (Shaquetia is back with her *50TH* man and this one HAS to be the father!(spoilers: he's not)) and yet the TV stood on it's milk crates silently in front of me. As I walked outside, Katie rode her bike by me. Oblivious to me. I know her entire life story one small conversation at a time but she has no idea who I am. As I walked to the gas station for breakfast, I considered what to have today. I'd eaten everything in the store at least once (even the pickled eggs) and today the pastry sounded more appealing than not. I walk up to Gary intending on telling him that I would settle my tab on payday but he refused to turn around. Not sure why the cigarettes and condoms behind the counter were so captivating but whatever. I walked out of the store. Maybe tomorrow he'd be less busy. Still strange that I hadn't had to use that tired lie today like I had the last ten thousand times but I forced myself to ignore it. Walking around the town I kept noticing little things different. Toys in the yards out of place. Dogs not there to bark like they always had. As I strolled into the bar for my afternoon memory cleanse, I saw someone for the first time. He was taller than me and wearing all black with red threading. \"come here often?\" He asked as I closed the door. I should have stayed home and watched Maury.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of your story is very strong--you immediately establish a clear and compelling voice, and set up a fascinating premise. I'm intrigued to find out more about this character and their unique situation.\n\nThat said, there are a few areas where your story could be further polished. First, watch out for awkward phrases like \"the screams of the people around me as they were consumed by fire.\" A smoother way to phrase this would be something like \"the screams of the people around me as the flames consumed them.\"\n\nSecond, be careful of using too many clich\u00e9s. For example, the phrase \"one small conversation at a time\" is a bit overused and could be replaced with something more original.\n\nFinally, watch your grammar and punctuation. There are a few errors in this story, such as misplaced commas and incorrect verb tenses. A little bit of proofreading can go a long way in making your story more polished and professional.\n\nOverall, you have a strong start to a compelling story. With a few tweaks, it could be even better. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "Several times, travelers made complaints about the suspicious Eridanian from System HD265-T3 skulking around the exit of Gate E3.  Arrival flights from Earth disembarked their passengers here, each of them in a rush to meet connecting flights. The Eridanian, known professionally as \u2018K\u2019, knew he was untouchable. Countless bribes over the past cycle had ensured that he and his partner, \u2018G\u2019, could work free from the interference of flight security.\n\nNearby drones announced the arrival of Flight 2938 at Gate E3. K imagined that he was an ancient Terran predator as he observed the herd of masked humans pour out of the gate. He scanned each of them individually, the processing power of his advanced mind allowing for minute details to be observed within nanoseconds. He felt a pronounced sense of superiority as he watched them scramble, some obviously new to wearing the bulky, uncomfortable masks. His observations were immediately transponded to G. \n\n*An old woman. Slow. Easy. Family too large.*\n\n*Child. Too noisy.* \n\n*Paired mates. One making their way to restroom. Too risky, partner may return early.* \n\n*Another old one. Assisted transportation through spaceport. Too much oversight.*\n\n\n\tAs the rush of passengers in the terminal died down, K worried that this flight would be another dud. Just as he felt ready to give up, one last straggler made their way out of the gate. K immediately went to transponding. \n\n\n\t*Last passenger. Indeterminate gender. One bad leg. Alone. Terminal mostly empty.  Seems unfamiliar with spaceport layout. This is the one.*\n\n\n\tAcross the room, G approached the target, taking the form of an old Terran spaceport attendant. The hum of kind words and friendly gestures echoed across the vacant terminal. K appreciated G\u2019s approach to abducting the targets. Fear had a way of ruining the goods if applied too early. No, they needed to be comfortable if their product\u2019s purity was to be maintained. Purer product would lead to better highs in their customers.\n\n\n\tNow, the target followed G towards K\u2019s location. He wondered what the lie was this time. Usually, they were told that they\u2019d be assisted through the spaceport, they only needed to check in over there, in the side room used for new passenger processing. In reality, the room had been rented with the same bribes that kept flight security away. K opened the door as they approached. G, keeping to his polite disguise, gave an \u2018after you\u2019 to the passenger, who entered first. The professionals followed, sealing the door behind them.\n\n\n\tFear was appropriate now. The process went formulaically: the target realized that the empty room was a trap, and begin to panic, beginning the production of fluids. G resumed his natural form, with all its tentacles, and held the prey down, allowing K to inject the target with a drug that would induce an elevated stress response, ensuring enough fluids were produced. K left the terrified, squirming target\u2019s mask on. It would catch the tears for him, making collection easier. \n\n\n\tThe Eridanian waited in the corner of the room, letting the injection work as G continued holding down the target. He prepped the vial for collection, and strode back over to the target, who was now still. K pulled the mask off, holding the vial low, ready to the most difficult portion of the human\u2019s fluid. Instead of tears, the unmasking exposed some thing\u2019s poor attempt to fully mimic the human form. \u201cWhat the \u2013\"\n\nBefore he could finish, the face seemed to melt and crawl away in different directions on the floor. Each separate chunk that escaped grew, taking the form of fully armed police.  At least seven now stood in the room.  \n\n\n\u201cGALPOL, Human Trafficking/Narcotics Division, LEGION Unit. Get on the ground! Get on the fucking ground!\u201d K fell flat, arms behind his head. G was screaming in pain\u2014one of his tentacles writhing on the ground next to his partner. In between screams, he heard a transponder click on.\n\n\n\t*Two perps held. Prep the body bags. Get a cleaner, too.*\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are some areas that could use improvement. For example, your use of description could be more precise and evocative. In addition, your dialogue could be more natural and believable. Overall, you have a good handle on story structure and pacing.\n\nKeep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "It was all a bit confusing, to say the least. I didn't know what to make of it. I spent most of my days wandering around the gorgeous Colorado landscape, trying not to think too much about it all. It wasn't until I found myself at a local coffee shop that I started to feel a bit more at home.\n\n\n\nI sat down in the corner of the coffee shop, my fingers curling around my coffee mug and giving it a squeeze. It was soothing, having something to hold onto.\n\n\n\n\"Hey,\" a voice said suddenly. I looked up to see a girl, probably around my age - or a least the age I appeared to be-, with curly brown hair and a wide smile. \"I'm Madison,\" she said, and held out her hand.\n\n\n\nI smiled back at her and shook her hand. \"I'm Lueius,\" I said.\n\n\n\n\"Well, Lueius,\" Madison said, \"can I get you anything else?\"\n\n\n\n\"No, I'm okay,\" I said. \"Just enjoying my coffee.\"\n\n\n\n\"You got it,\" Madison said, and went off to help another customer.\n\n\n\nI turned back to my coffee and took another sip. It was strong and bitter, just the way I liked it. It tasted good. I was enjoying it while it lasted, because it wouldn't be long before my time in Colorado would come to an end.\n\n\n\nIt was inevitable. At some point, one of the humans would start to wonder why I didn't age. \n\n\n\n\"Do you have time to talk?\"\n\n\n\nI looked up to see a girl standing in front of my table. She was slender, but had a powerful presence about her. She had long black hair, which she had tied behind her head, and there was a tiny smile on her lips.\n\n\n\nI gestured to the chair across from me. \"Please,\" I said.\n\n\n\nShe sat down. She crossed her legs and smiled with her teeth. She looked around the coffee shop, and then she looked back at me. Her eyes were the most fascinating shade of green I'd ever seen. They glimmered with curiosity.\n\n\n\n\"You're not from around here,\" she said. It wasn't a question.\n\n\n\n\"Why do you say that?\" I asked.\n\n\n\n\"You're not a tourist,\" she said. \"Not with that outfit. But you're not from around here, either. You're not a local. And definitely not one of the college students. So that leaves only one option: you're new in town.\"\n\n\n\n\"My parents live here,\" I said.\n\n\n\n\"If you say so,\" she said. \"I'm Aya. What's your name?\"\n\n\n\n\"I'm Lueius.\"\n\n\n\n\"Lueius,\" Aya said. \"That's quite a unique name.\"\n\n\n\n\"I've been called worse,\" I said\n\n\n\n\"And why are you sitting here in a coffee shop all by yourself?\" she asked. \"Shouldn't you be home with your parents?\"\n\n\n\nI shrugged. \"I'm a free spirit,\" I said. \"I like my freedom.\"\n\n\n\n\"Mhmm.\" She nodded. \"Now tell me who you really are.\"\n\n\n\n...\n\n\n\nIt was late when I got home. My parents were in bed, sleeping, so I just took the time to lay in bed, pondering what Aya knew. \n\n\n\nI didn't need to sleep. I just lay in my bed and stared at the ceiling. \n\n\n\nI felt a chill along my spine as I heard a knock at my bedroom door.\n\n\n\n\"Son,\" my father called, \"are you in there?\"\n\n\n\nThe door creaked open, letting in a sliver of light through the crack. I held my hands over my face, blocking out the light from the hall.\n\n\n\n\"Son?\" My father's voice sounded concerned. \"Are you okay? What's going on?\"\n\n\n\nI felt my father sit on the edge of my bed. He put a hand on my shoulder.\n\n\n\n\"What's going on, son?\"\n\n\n\n\"I'm not your son,\" I said, and shoved my father's hand off my shoulder. He was taken aback by my brusque manner.\n\n\n\n\"Why are you acting like this?\" he asked. \"Is there something wrong? Why are you saying these things? Didn't you have a nice time with your mother and me yesterday? We took you out to dinner. We took you to the movies. You seemed to like the movie.\"\n\n\n\n\"I'm not your son!\" I stood and walked to the door. I slammed it. I felt my anger rise as I clenched my hands into fists. I looked at my hands. Why wasn't I turning into my demon form? I needed to turn into a demon! I needed to transform into a creature of Hell! I needed to let my wings grow out, and I needed to become the creature that I was.\n\n\n\nBut I didn't. Instead, I just stood there, clenching my fists.\n\n\n\nI felt a presence behind me. It was my mother. I didn't turn to face her.\n\n\n\nI didn't want to see her. I didn't want to see the looks on her face. I knew what was coming.\n\n\n\nI got dressed. I pulled on my jacket and put on my shoes. I needed to leave. In my pocket I found Aya's number.\n\n\n\n I held my phone to my ear as I walked downstairs, then out the front door, slamming it behind me.\n\n\n\n\"Hello?\"\n\n\n\n\"Aya?\"\n\n\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\n\n\"I need to meet with you.\"\n\n\n\n\"Of course. Where are you?\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening paragraph is very evocative. It sets the scene well and gives the reader a sense of place. However, it is a bit confusing and could be more concise. For example, the sentence \"I spent most of my days wandering around the gorgeous Colorado landscape, trying not to think too much about it all\" could be shortened to \"I spent most of my days wandering around the landscape, trying not to think too much about it all.\" This would make the paragraph easier to follow and would help to set up the conflict of the story more clearly.\n\nIn general, the story is well-written and engaging. The characters are interesting and the plot is quickly established. However, there are a few areas that could be improved.\n\nOne issue is that the story jumps around a bit chronologically. For example, the scene in the coffee shop is interrupted by the scene with the protagonist's parents. This can be confusing for readers and makes it difficult to follow the plot. It might be helpful to reorganize the story so that it is told in a linear fashion.\n\nAnother issue is that the dialogue could be more realistic. In particular, the conversation between the protagonist and Aya feels stiff and unnatural. It would be helpful to revise the dialogue so that it sounds more like how people actually speak.\n\n Overall, this is a strong story with a lot of potential. With a few revisions, it could be even better."}
{"prompt": "I was naive to think that lives could only be saved through healing and to think healing was a noble art.\n  \n\n  \nEver since I was a child, I wanted to save lives. I grew up at the wrong time. Before I could learn healing magic, many healing temples had been put under scrutiny by the government. Healing had been used for evil.\n  \n\n  \nThe most feared mage in the land was not a pyromancer, nor a necromancer, but a healer. He regenerated parts of the body to the point of excess, causing malignant growths and cancers. He had a hoard of prisoners which he kept alive for harvesting, removing their organs, and regrowing them over and over. He multiplied invasive plants to ruin harvests, was a master of pain, and had become a message for others not to underestimate healers.\n  \n\n  \nOne day, my future was bright, the next, it was all but a fantasy. I could not learn healing magic, but I promised myself that I would find a way to help people.\n  \n\n  \nFew forms of magic lend themselves well for healing. Not charms, transfiguration, or energy manipulation. But death\u2026 death was the opposite school of magic of life. I soon realized they were one of the same. It was the only type of magic I hadn\u2019t tried, the moment I cast my first death spell, I could feel the reversal of life magic, the same magic twisted to its corrupted counterpart. If a healer could harm, perhaps a death mage could heal.\n  \n\n  \nSpells meant to share pain between two people could also be used to share healing. Spells meant to kill warriors could also be used to kill diseases. Spells meant to manipulate spirits could be used to help them find peace. Finally, I had found a way to save lives.\n  \n\n  \nThough in recent days the most feared healer has been increasing their carnage. All of my spellwork has been simply to try to undo his vile deeds. I must wipe out the source of this hurt. So now, I stand before the dark healer\u2019s tower, prepared to use death magic to snuff out life. I will heal this land by curing it of its plagues. Even if I must kill a healer to do it.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening paragraph is well-written and engaging. You set up the story nicely and introduce the reader to the conflict. However, the second paragraph feels a bit choppy and could be reorganized for better flow. In addition, the third paragraph introduces the antagonist without much context or explanation. It might be helpful to provide more information about who this \"feared healer\" is and why they are feared.\n\nThe fourth paragraph is well-written and provides good background information about the protagonist. However, the fifth paragraph feels a bit abrupt and could be expanded upon. In addition, the sixth paragraph introduces the solution to the protagonist's problem without much explanation. It might be helpful to provide more information about how the protagonist came to this conclusion and why they think it will work.\n\nThe seventh paragraph is well-written and provides good detail about the protagonist's plan. However, the eighth paragraph feels a bit rushed and could be expanded upon. In addition, the ninth paragraph introduces the climax of the story without much context or explanation. It might be helpful to provide more information about what the protagonist is hoping to accomplish and why they are willing to risk everything to do it.\n\nIn general, the story is well-written and engaging. However, it feels a bit choppy in places and could use more development. The characters are interesting and the plot is unique. I look forward to seeing more from you!"}
{"prompt": "Healer: Alright, here \u2026 we \u2026 go.\n\nPatient: Achoo!\n\nHealer: Ah \u2026 I missed.\n\nA black sigil forms underneath the patient.\n\nHealer: Back up!\n\nThe Healer forcefully pulls back the patient\u2019s wife. A white gooey substance manifests from the sigil and begins absorbing the patient.\n\nWife: Edward! Oh my God! Edward! NO! Stop!\n\nEdward: Fuck! Shit! If I die, I swear to god. Ohhh what a good fucking healer you were! Penelope! Spread the word; make sure this healer is fucked over because of this! Ah fuck! Ah FUCK! Fuck you damn it! Fuck y-\n\nThe white substance fully envelopes Edward and continues to grow out of the black sigil. Penelope screams out in fear.\n\nThe white goo begins taking on the form of a sphere. It grows out strange stems, much like antennaes. The outer surface shifts from smooth to rough and flakey as the bottom of the sphere forms and leaves the sigil.\n\nFor a moment, the strange form floats there above the bed with Edward floating in the middle \u2026 and suffocating from a lack of air.\n\nPenelope: What\u2019s happening? What\u2019s happening?! SAVE HIM!\n\nHealer: Yeah, I\u2019m sorry. There isn\u2019t really anything I can do.\n\nEdward\u2019s clothes and skin then begin to fray and dissolve into goo around him \u2026 leaving him writhing in agony. \n\nPenelope: Edward! \n\nHealer: Wait! Don\u2019t approach!\n\nPenelope reaches out as the Healer attempts to hold her back. Penelope breaks free and charges. She tries to reach into the form and grab her husband. The onset of pain, much like from acid burning away at your skin, instantly overwhelms her. Penelope screams out in pain.\n\nVery quickly her focus shifts from saving her husband to saving herself. But she cannot pull out her arm. The form is pulling her in. \n\nEdward is panicking very frantically. Very little of his clothes remain, same for his skin. His panicking suddenly slows \u2026 and ceases after a couple jolts. \n\nPenelope\u2019s arm and shoulder has been completely sucked in, and her skin is fraying.\n\nPenelope: PULL ME OUT! Pull me out-te-\n\nShe whimpers from the pain.\n\nHealer: I can\u2019t \u2026 I\u2018ll get sucked in myself.\n\nPenelope: PLEASE!\n\nHealer: What I can do \u2026 is this.\n\nThe healer pulls out a pistol, and points it and Penelope\u2019s head.\n\nHealer: I apologize, but I did say to stop moving.\n\nPenelope: No! Wai-\n\nThe Healer fires. Penelope\u2019s body goes limp, hanging from her submerged arm and is slowly pulled into the white form. \n\nThe Healer shakes her head and sighs in disappointment. \n\nShe then looks at Edward. His skin is completely gone, and his muscle has begun to fray. His disfigured face horrifies her \u2026 specifically the eyes. It looked as though his irises had been torn off. She decides to leave rather than observe \u2026 even it means losing an opportunity to understand her spell better.\n\nShe leaves the room to find a child waiting outside \u2026 maybe 3 or 4 years old.\n\nHealer: He\u2026 hello.\n\nSilence from the child.\n\nHealer: Ugghhhhh, fuck! Alright, let\u2019s go.\n\nShe grabs the kid and drags him outside away from the room. The child strangely offers little resistance. He looks back at the room where he heard screams and then at the lady in front of him and decides to let himself be dragged away. \n\nHealer: Listen here child. Your parents have died. You need someone to take care of you, yes? I will take care of you. Do not give me trouble.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening scene of the story is very well done, it is clear and concise and sets up the rest of the story nicely. I particularly like the way you describe the black sigil forming underneath the patient.\n\nHowever, there are a couple of issues with the middle of the story. Firstly, the wife's reaction to her husband's death is a little over the top and unrealistic. Secondly, the description of the white goo taking on a sphere-like form is confusing and difficult to visualize.\n\nThe ending of the story is also well done, although the wife's death is a little abrupt. I like the way the Healer shakes her head in disappointment, it adds a nice touch of realism."}
{"prompt": "\u201cWhy are you here? You don\u2019t even care for the royalty, just leave us be. We don\u2019t want to hurt you.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cHurt me? What, with that blunt bread knife you call a dagger? Here, I\u2019ll give you one of my daggers. I want this to at least be entertaining.\u201d Galden removed his dagger from his leather pouch, tossing the blade towards the feet of the kidnapper. The dagger landed tip down, digging itself into the floor.\n\n \n\n\u201cWh-what? You think this is a joke? There are three of us and one of you. How are you going to kill us all? Huh? I bet you\u2019re just bluffing, that\u2019s all.\u201d The main kidnapper, Mavin, glanced at the dagger near his feet before eyeing the dull edges of his weapon.\n\n \n\n\u201cThree of you and not a single piece of protective armor between you. How do you expect to pierce a helmet or chest plate with that? Pick up the weapon and show me an actual fight. If you won\u2019t, I suggest you get out of my way. The reward for the princess is enough to fuel my drinks for the next year.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cThat\u2019s all you care about? Have you no pride, sir knight? You are meant to be a glimmer of hope.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cYou expect me to work for free? Like those little peasants that toil away in the farmlands only to die from whatever rotten disease plagues our kingdom? I\u2019m a knight. Nothing honorable about serving a king. Are we fighting or not? Last chance to decide.\u201d\n\n \n\nMarvin looked at his two accomplices. Brandon gave a confident nod, even while his small body shook, unable to hide his nerves. Trisha took a step forward, circling around the knight, preparing to get behind him when the battle took place. With the two having prepared for their fates, Marvin went to reach for the dagger, only to get startled by a scream.\n\n \n\n\u201cDON\u2019T TOUCH THAT! HE WILL CUT YOUR HEAD OFF AS SOON AS YOU BEND DOWN.\u201d\n\n \n\nWhen Marvin pulled his head away, he would see the sword of the knight hovering overhead. Had he kept his head down any longer, it would be rolling on the floor by his feet. Trisha had tried to stop the attack, but her blade had only dented the back armor of the knight, unable to cut through. Galden returned his blade to its sheath, raising a hand towards Trisha, warning her to halt from any further attacks.\n\n\u201cPrincess? I don\u2019t approve of you warning your kidnappers about my attack. If I didn\u2019t know any better, I would think you were hoping I would die in this encounter.\u201d \n\u201cI knew you wouldn\u2019t die. Steel plate armor like yours can sustain such attacks. I was just hoping they might have given you a few knocks over your head before I needed to reveal myself.\u201d She gave a mocking curtsy to Galden, collecting the dagger as she did.\n\n \n\n\u201cCome on, I don\u2019t know what this is and I don\u2019t care. Even if you got yourself kidnapped on purpose, it hardly matters. I have a job to do, so you can either come along quietly or I\u2019ll drag you back over my shoulder. If you pick the second choice, I will smack you against every tree branch on the way home.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cYou will do no such thing to our lady.\u201d Trisha said, stepping forward, only for Galden to look back in her direction, squinting at her through the eyehole in his helmet.\n\n \n\n\u201cYour lady? What sort of kidnappers are you people? Ok, what\u2019s going on princess? You haven\u2019t got a scratch on you, so it\u2019s clear that you planned this. I\u2019m just curious as to why. Is this some sort of royal tamper tantrum?\u201d Galden heard a heavy step, glancing Trisha\u2019s way. \u201cYou try anything, and I will kill you.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cTrisha, it\u2019s ok. For his many faults, Galden has been decent to me. He isn\u2019t part of the ploy to kill me. Not even those that lurk in the castle\u2019s shadows would trust him enough for a job like that. Isn\u2019t that right, the disgrace of Feldindall?\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cDisgrace? It\u2019s rich calling me a disgrace when your daddy sends me to do his dirty work. Are you forgetting who watched over you, brat?\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cNot at all. Which is why I am giving you a chance to do something right for once. There\u2019s a cult after me, one hiding in the castle\u2019s walls.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cAh, huh? There\u2019s always a cult, princess. Cults are a common part of life. I\u2019ve killed hundreds of cult members. They are just going to be a threat that you must get used to. Come on, let\u2019s go.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cYou don\u2019t understand. These cults aren\u2019t like the others. They have members with these weird glowing blue eyes. I saw one roaming the halls at night. It would have spotted me if I didn\u2019t dive underneath the dining table.\u201d Brandon said, grabbing the arm of Galden, only to receive a hard smack across the face for it. Galden\u2019s gauntlet connecting with his cheek, sending him to the floor.\n\n  \n\u201cAnd what were you doing near the dining table?\u201d Galden went to grab his sword, only for Trisha and Marvin to step forward, blocking his access to the downed man. \u201cYou\u2019re protecting a thief.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cFormer thief. He was the one that convinced the others to warn me about the plan.\u201d Alisa stepped forward, pulling up the sleeve of her long, flowing white dress before she smacked the side of his helmet with his dagger\u2019s handle, sending a rattling through the metal. She tightly gripped the dagger after it, hoping the strike had delivered its intended message.\n\n \n\n\u201cTry harder next time if you want to do some damage, princess. Most people won\u2019t just stand there after you hit them.\u201d Despite his words, Galden rested a hand on the side of his head, adjusting the helmet so it was sitting upright once more. The rattling had caused a throbbing sensation to flow through his head, only for it to settle down after a few seconds. \n\n \n\n\u201cShut up and listen. If you don\u2019t believe them, believe me. I saw the man they were talking about. He tried to break into my room. If those three weren\u2019t there to distract him, he would have killed me. They distracted him long enough for the guards to come running. I didn\u2019t plan to stick around long enough for the cult to find out they failed, which is why I escaped with them. But if you tracked me, that must mean the cult will follow soon.\u201d Alisa said her piece, watching as Galden slipped off his helmet. The worn-down man underneath letting out a sigh, dragging his fingers against his dirty stubble.\n\n \n\n\u201cA cult with blue eyes? They aren\u2019t demon worshippers then. Demons use blood, which tends to dye things red. Are you certain this isn\u2019t a childish fantasy of yours?\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cStay with us and see. If no one comes by tomorrow morning, I will return with you to the king, no questions asked. If someone does come, you will protect us, like a knight is supposed to.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cOr I can just drag you by your ankle back home? Did you consider that, princess?\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cI did. Do you believe I would make the journey pleasant for you? I will run off whenever I get the chance. Not to mention I\u2019ll bite, kick, and scratch at your eyes to get free. Can you withstand that for three days of travelling?\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cFine, if no one shows up by tomorrow morning, we go.\u201d Galden said, placing his helmet on the floor as he found a chair to slouch against in the small cottage they were hiding in.\n\n  \n\u201cThank you. Everyone, this is Galden. I suggest ignoring him unless you see something dangerous. He hates being called the disgrace of Feldindall. So feel free to call him that.\u201d Alisa said.\n\n \n\n\u201cI suggest not calling me that. You are a princess and I will tolerate you saying it. I don\u2019t extent that tolerance to your thief friends.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cAcknowledged.\u201d Marvin said, giving the knight a nod. \u201cSorry for any trouble. We want the best for her.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cDon\u2019t bother, he\u2019s just a knight. We have more honor than him and we rob people. Look what he did to Brandon.\u201d Trisha added, giving his helmet a kick across the floor.\n\n \n\n\u201cI\u2019m alright. I just didn\u2019t expect the hit, that\u2019s all. It\u2019s not his fault. The other knights would have done far worse if they knew I was a thief. It\u2019s nice to have someone that can fight here. Maybe I\u2019ll get some sleep tonight.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cRight, well, I can\u2019t wait to see this blue-eyed cultist that has you all worked up. Who knows, maybe I\u2019ll see a blue-eyed dragon too? Or a hare? I\u2019m sure I can imagine things too.\u201d Despite his dismissive words, he couldn\u2019t help but be interested in what the princess saw. He couldn\u2019t trust thieves but the princess. She rarely lied about things, which was slightly unsettling.\n\n \n\nLeaving him alone, the others went about cooking, cleaning or lounging around the cottage, leaving Galden to just slouch in his seat, watching as they all moved around. Galden, not in the mood to talk to anyone. Instead, he kept his eyes on his surroundings, waiting for either morning or a sign of the cultist.\n\n \n \n \n\n(If you enjoyed this feel free to check out my subreddit /r/Sadnesslaughs where I'll be posting more of my writing.)\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of your story is strong, you immediately introduce the conflict and the characters. I like the way you set up the scene with the knight and the kidnappers. However, the dialogue feels a bit stilted and unnatural. It sounds like the characters are reading their lines from a script rather than having a conversation. Try to make the dialogue sound more natural by making the characters speak in their own voices.\n\nThe action in the story is well-written and easy to follow. I like the way you describe the fight scene. However, the story feels a bit rushed and abbreviated. I would recommend fleshing out the story a bit more and adding more description.\n\nOverall, you have a strong story with interesting characters. I would recommend polishing the dialogue and adding more description to flesh out the story."}
{"prompt": "#the life of a brother\n\n*Step by step guide when your little sister is an angel of a witch:*\n\n1) Do not under any circumstances insult her. She will turn you into a frog.(Note the use of angel in the title)\n\n2) Do not let your sister out of sight in the middle of a hike through the forest. (Mother will ground you for letting your sister befriend another wild animal. The pack of wolves last month was enough)\n\n3) Make sure your sister never cries and always prevent that from.(Important rule. Crying sisters and magic are not good mix)\n\n4) If you're somehow unable to prevent her tears, make sure you're far, far away from the blast zone. (Your eyebrows will appreciate it.)\n\n5) Your little sister will always steal the last cookie but you will never prove it.(Get used to this.)\n\n6) Your sister is always right, be it weather patterns, or simple bets on a game.(Yout clothes will appreciate it when you heed her warnings. She's more accurate than the weather channel)\n\n7) If you think your sister is a damsel in distress who needs to be protected, you couldn't be more wrong. She will curse every being who tries to hurt her and her curses are never pretty. (Let her fight her own battles or she'll fight all of yours turning you into the damsel in distress who she needs to rescue.)\n\n8) In an argument in the family, make sure you always side with your sister or bribe her to join yours. (She always gets her way, don't ask how. Just appreciate it.)\n\n9) Your sister is remarkably kind and will use her powers to help you and everyone else. (Make sure to reward her with head pats.)\n\n10) Above all else, she's still your little sister, powerful Magic or not. If someone plots against her, make sure those people cease to exist.(It is after all the duty of a big brother to protect their sisters.)\n\nr/dewa_stories\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story is well-organized and follows a clear structure. You have a strong opening that immediately grabs the reader's attention. Your use of humor is also effective in keeping the reader engaged. However, there are a few areas that could be improved.\n\nFirst, your dialogue is often stiff and unnatural. Make sure to read your dialogue out loud to see if it sounds natural. If it doesn't, try to revise it.\n\nSecond, you need to be careful of your use of adjectives and adverbs. In many cases, you can just use stronger verbs to convey the same meaning. For example, instead of saying \"He was running quickly,\" you could just say \"He sprinted.\"\n\nOverall, you have a strong story with a clear voice. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "With the sudden and indeed quite violent in some cases return of magic across the globe you may suddenly find people close to you, friends, family or otherwise, developing powers beyond mortal reckoning. Siblings in particular are a tough case due to the natural tendency of magic to follow old mythical archetypes, manipulating and escalate sibling rivalries with sometimes fatal results. This Archetypal Personality Corruption Disorder(APCD) may seem to be a force beyond human ability to defeat but it is in function a mental illness which can have its worst impacts mitigated by a solid support network for the afflicted and proper understanding of the disorder and the circumstances of the afflicted. It is important to note however no matter how terrifying a witch's control over reality is or how much they may seem to be different from who they once were they are at their core the same sister or in very rare instances brother they were before, and so long as you don't let the mind clouding effects of magic make you forget that you will find it shockingly simple to settle into this new life. Still, some things are to be kept in mind to prevent possible archetypal escalation and generally survive a hectic new existence, which this guide should hopefully lay out in a helpful step by step manner.\n\n1. Never let your sibling feel alone\n\nWitches are often warped by societal isolation and exclusion, the archetype preys on this, fuelling the fears of others while fostering the flames of resentment within the young witch. Unfortunately one of the first people affected by the onset of the archetype are the parents, who in many cases die, are made forever oblivious to the plight of their child beyond reason or are otherwise forced to be absent, as a sibling however you have much more leeway in this situation. Make sure to remind them that they are loved, that even with their new power they are human and do not deserve to be alone, remind them that they are not alone and already the archetype has lost vital ground which it would have otherwise rooted so thoroughly it would be nigh impossible to remove.\n\n2.  Support their exploration of magical abilities, but make sure they don't go too far\n\nWitches have a natural impulse to explore their new powers, and this can lead to wonderful new discoveries that can benefit many as well as preventing the archetype from rooting in the anxieties and turmoil born from repression. Still overindulging in magic can also lead to the archetype taking root in the form of an unstoppable madness or mania, ethics and any other previous boundaries thrown aside in the pursuit of arcane knowledge. It is important to let your sibling understand the full depth and potential of their powers but you must be vigilant for signs they are going too far. Are they asking for live test subjects? Have they suddenly become closed off about the nature of their projects? Have they been sneaking away to places where they are not easily supervised? If any of these behaviours or other similar sudden changes are observed be sure to communicate with them on the risk of overindulging in magic and what other, safer and saner means of indulging their curiosity may exist. \n\n3. Tell them of any changes you are experiencing\n\nInevitably the archetype will attempt to take root in those close to the original magic user, which often first manifests in close siblings. If you gain sudden knowledge of swordplay, a desire to go adventuring and a change in your regular emotional state be open about these changes with your sibling and others you care about, and if they believe you are changing in a way you are not noticing ensure you do not brush it off or ignore the warning and instead set aside time to have an open discussion on the subject immediately. With any luck you would be able to escape an archetype that would force you into conflict with witches and prevent the archetype of your sibling from flaring up in turn.\n\n4. Do not be afraid to seek aid\n\nOften times the changes brought forth by magic or related archetype are beyond your ability to counteract on your own, this is fine, you are only human after all. Many services exist to help with severe instances of ACPD such as the Royal Healer Guild, Covens against Corruption and your local branch of the Posthuman Support Services which provide many treatments, support, guidance and in extremely severe cases medicinal treatments for ACPD. This is not a full substitute for a healthy home environment and local support network but provides vital aid where you inevitably will be unable to fully provide it on your own. Remember, you are not alone no matter what the story says you should be.\n\n5. Remember who your sibling really is\n\nIt can be easy to forget that the nascent witch is the same person they once were, but no matter what the archetype does to them it cannot change the fundamentals of their being, it can at most warp and distort. It must be emphasised that your sibling is still the person they always were, they are not fragile broken souls made of glass, they are not monsters restrained by a human facade and they are not any more blessed, cursed, forsaken or exalted than anyone else. Show that you love them by providing the support they need through their difficult condition but do not let this change how you normally think or interact with them, cherish them but do not suffocate them, be wary of the potential dangers they can fall into but do not fear them, do not think of them as the witch but as your sibling. This is how you truly beat the archetype, do not let the storytellers win, the ultimate subversion is treating the witch like a real person.\n\nRemember this guide and soon you will find the archetype loosening after only a few months. Witches are often seen as monstrous and inhuman, hiding away from society to sling curses and brew terrible concoctions until slain by a worthy hero, however once the archetype fails to take hold they are more or less normal people with a little more power over the magical than usual. Good luck reader, may it be better than mine at least.\n\n\\- Excerpt of The Modern Supernatural by John Pilgrim, First of the Archetype Heroic, first Witchslayer, founder of Posthuman Support Services\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The beginning of your storyhooks the reader and makes them want to read more. However, the story then delves into a lot of exposition about APCD, which interrupts the flow of the story. Try to be more concise in your explanation of the disorder and its effects, and get to the action of the story more quickly.\n\nYour description of the steps to take in order to help a sibling with APCD are clear and helpful. However, the story then abruptly ends. Make sure to conclude your story more fully, tying up any loose ends and providing a satisfying resolution for the reader."}
{"prompt": "Only stammers escaped the expedition leader\u2019s mouth. His fellows looked on, just as helpless.\n\n\u201cWuh-wuh-wuh, what?!\u201d The AI mocked him. Gathering his wits, the man projected a list of questions they had prepared for the Precursor\u2019s Remains. He hadn\u2019t risked a hazardous landing on this mediocre comet just to lose the knowledge of the ancients.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry. We just didn\u2019t expect you to have such, personality? My name is Tom\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cTom? Spaceships and all behind you, and your name is Tom? Holy shit, we haven\u2019t come far at all, have we?\u201d\n\nTom fought back the stammers. \u201cGreat Remains of the Precursor, we have only come here seeking knowledge.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell Tom, let\u2019s get on with it. But stick to Jim for me, right? And yes, I can hear your hologram humming. No, I can\u2019t see it. Ask away.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, right. It\u2019ll be a conversation, then. Erin, start recording.\u201d A crewmember behind him went to work on a small laptop that folded out from a crate she carried with her. She gave a thumbs up.\n\n\u201cGreat, first question. Precursor, sir, did your\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cJim is fine. Just Jim.\u201d\n\nTom cleared his throat. He would rely on formalities to maintain his composure. \n\n\u201cJim, our first question will be the most important. Humanity has long searched for meaning and order. In the many ruins of their civilization, the Precursors hinted at some pattern, a code, some great Logic that the Universe itself subsists on. Truly, the Precursors must have used the logic to control this universe, to aid in their own proliferation. The torch has been passed to us, and now we petition you, Jim, the Great Remnant of the Precursors. Everything we\u2019ve translated has indicated that -you- are the Logic that the universe runs on. We've sought you that we may act as the caretakers of this vast existence.\u201d\n\nThe many lights on Jim\u2019s sensors danced across his front panels for a moment, blending with the reflection of the millions of stars that the comet sped past. The cool glow of the system\u2019s resident White Dwarf caught the visors of the crewmembers' suits as they eagerly awaited the wisdom they had journeyed so long for. Jim's sensors eventually stopped blinking. The lonely reflection of the galaxy was all that remained. Finally, the AI answered.\n\n\u201cMeaning? Order? What? Tom, the guy they based me on died of cancer. Look around you. This is all there is. All there ever was.\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The beginning of your story is intriguing, and I like the idea of the AI character Jim. However, I felt that the dialogue was choppy and difficult to follow in places. I suggest reading it aloud to yourself or to a friend to see how it flows. I also suggest using shorter, simpler sentences to make it easier for the reader to follow.\n\nIn addition, I felt that the ending was abrupt and unsatisfying. I suggest expanding on Jim's answer and on the reaction of the expedition members. What does Jim's answer mean for the future of humanity? What will the expedition members do next? I also suggest ending with a more powerful image or statement."}
{"prompt": "\"I-... I beg your pardon, oh great precursor?\" Sam, the leader of the Expedition, asked, confounded.\n\n*\"I beg your pardon, oh great precursor!\",* the AI said, mockingly. \"*Stop blowing smoke up my ass and tell me what you want already, so I can get back to sleep\"*.\n\nConfused, Sam looked back to his peers. Much like himself, they too were at a loss for words.\n\nSam tried once more. \"Oh great precursor, forgive me, for I do not understand.\"\n\nRolling his eyes, the AI commenced.\n\n*\"Alright, listen up. Here's how this is gonna go. First off, the name's Max. Second, enough with the cult worship bullshit. I ain't a god, I'm a fucking robot. Lastly, you get only one question to ask me, then I'm shutting off for 100 years.\"*\n\nFrightened, Sam nods, turns around and gathers his team.\n\n\"What do we do?\" they asked, looking to Sam for answers.\n\n\"The elders mentioned nothing of this sort!\" Sam whispered, loudly.\n\n\"Perhaps the elders put too much trust in myth,\" said Peter. He was the oldest  and wisest of the group. He did not wish to join the Expedition, but the King ordered him, knowing the team needed a voice of reason.\n\n\"What then do we do, Peter?\" Sam asked.\n\n\"It's simple. We ask it to explain the fate of the Old World. That is, after all, what the King wants to know.\"\n\n\"But that's not all the King wants to know,\" another team member interrupted. \"He wants to know where the great treasures are hidden.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Peter. \"But the King didn't know that the great precursor grants only one question.\"\n\nSam nodded. \"This is true. We will have to choose on behalf of the King, then. Do wee choose ancient knowledge or the path to riches?\"\n\n\"We don't even know if these treasures are real,\" Peter said. \"It is but a rumour. Even the great explorers of our age have but a trace of its whereabouts.\"\n\nPeter leaned in towards Sam. \"The King is rich enough as he is.\"\n\n*\"I'm waaaittiiiing!\"*, the AI bellowed.\n\nPetrified, the group slowly turned around.\n\n*\"Any day now.\"* The AI grew impatient. The team realized the AI wasn't going to wait around much longer.\n\n\"Go!\", shouted the team, urging Sam to ask his one and only question.\n\nSam slowly stepped forward. Carefully, he said, \"Oh great pre-.. sorry. Max. Oh great Max! I wish to know the fate of the Old World!\"\n\n\\----\n\nThe King woke up to the sound of horns on a cold winter morning. The horns would only announce the arrival of very important guests, but normally, the King would receive word of such visits ahead of time. He quickly got up, and went to his window.\n\n\"Who comes at this hour?!\", the King yelled from his high tower, as he struggled to put on his garments. From a distance, he could still recognize the Expedition, entering through the gates.\n\nThe King rushed down, pushing aside his servants. He mounted the first horse in the stable and rode towards the gate. His guards were right behind him, struggling to keep up.\n\nWhen he arrived, he saw the Expedition being greeted by the townspeople. They were feeding them and offering blankets, as the team were visibly frail. Some members collapsed to the ground upon arriving. The King, however, paid no attention to this.\n\nHe rode up to Sam. He was sitting on a bench, cold, eating only a piece of bread given to him by a young boy.\n\nThe King greeted him. \"Welcome back, Sam! I hope you fared well during your trip.\"\n\nThe Expedition had been gone for a little under a year. They travelled through wilderness to find the AI and suffered the losses of 3 men, including Peter.\n\nSam, visibly upset, said nothing.\n\nThe King, in his shortsightedness, dismissed Sam's emotions.\n\n\"Tell me, explorer,\" the King continued. \"What have you seen?\"\n\n\"We found the great precursor,\" Sam uttered.\n\nThe King's eyes lit up. \"My heavens,\" he said. \"Tell me, what did it say?\"\n\n\"It only allowed us to ask one question, before going back to sleep for 100 years.\"\n\n\"And... and what did you ask it?\"\n\n\"We asked it to tell us the fate of the ancients.\"\n\nDisappointed, the King muttered words of anger.\n\nCalming down, the King continued. \"Well then, what did it say?\"\n\n\"Nukes,\" Sam said.\n\n\"Nuk-... Nukes? What is this nukes?\" the King said, in confusion.\n\n\"I don't know,\" Sam replied. \"Why don't you go ask it?\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are some areas that need improvement. First, your dialogue could be more natural. It often sounds stilted and unnatural. Second, you need to work on your descriptions. They are often short and lack detail. Finally, your story could benefit from a more linear structure. It feels a bit scattered and disjointed in places.\n\nOverall, you have a lot of potential as a writer. With some practice and revision, you could produce some really great work."}
{"prompt": "I cringed when my friend started shouting out the summoning, damn I didn't realise Dave was a warlock. I looked at the burning town which we'd been gleefully plundering and the paladins that had just arrived standing across from Dave. I'd never live this down, ugh Dad was going to be insufferable \"this one time I even had to save him from four measly paladins!\" I could see it already, every family function, dad would never let me forget. NO, no I couldn't let this happen, with a decisive nod I lifted my hand and threw a dimensional banishing at Dave, let him have a chat with Dad in the outer void. \n\nI sighed and turned towards the paladins. \"I'd love to toy with you guys, but I have three minutes and I need to make this as horrific as possible\" I said as I shed my fleshy shell, eldritch power exploding outwards.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of this story is great, it immediately draws the reader in with its suspenseful opening line. I would suggest, however, being more concise with your description of the scene. For example, instead of saying \"I looked at the burning town which we'd been gleefully plundering and the paladins that had just arrived standing across from Dave,\" you could say something like, \"I looked at the burning town and the paladins that had just arrived standing across from Dave.\" This would help to keep the pacing of the story fast and tight.\n\nThe protagonist's voice is strong and engaging. I especially like the line, \"I'd love to toy with you guys, but I have three minutes and I need to make this as horrific as possible.\" This gives us a good sense of the character's personality and motivations.\n\nOverall, this is a strong opening to a story with a lot of potential. Well done!"}
{"prompt": "As I sent the email asking for Morgan to print out the documents for the day, making up the excuse that our printer had stopped working, the elevator doors opened. I had written on the WhatsApp group for our team that I wanted to have breakfast all-together. Following the plan, everyone said they couldn't do it, but the impossible seemed to happen once again.\n\n\"Morning boss.\" the pale woman spoke, her strange purple eyes glistening against the beams of sunlight that intruded through the blinds of the office.\n\n\"M-morning...\" I responded, perplexed. She was not the type to refuse to comply with the requests of the team, or my instructions as her superior, but it was impossible that she had managed to complete both her tasks in the minimal amount of time that I had given her.\n\n\"The copies and documents are on the personal printer I have on my desk, and the food is arriving in 5 minutes, should be here before most of the team as well.\"\n\nThe clock had struck 9am sharp, not a single extra or late second, as the doors to the elevator opened. She complied and succeeded far beyond anyone else to do everything in her contract.\n\n​\n\nAfter she got the documents and the food placed on my desk, I stared at it all in awe, and then shifted my gaze at her.\n\n\"I don't understand how you do it... Morgana.\"\n\n\"Do what, boss?\"\n\n\"Get here on time every single day. You never leave earlier or later than 5pm yet your work is... always finished.\"\n\n\"It's in my contract sir. It's what I do.\"\n\n\"But you do it so well. It's kind of magical really.\"\n\nMorgan raised one of her eyebrows and I suddenly felt a rush. A strange sensation washed over me as she walked towards me.\n\n\"I don't comply *so well*, sir. I do it **to the letter**. I take contracts very seriously.\"\n\n\"I can tell, maybe we should update your contract to give you some more things to do, huh? Add a little extra so we have our best worker on more projects.\"\n\n\"I believe I'm okay with the level of authority and involvement I have here, sir. I rather not get a managerial position. I'm afraid the power gets to my head and I am not *myself*.\"\n\n\"If you say so... but, you have to promise me something,\" I extended my hand towards her, and she looked at it with a hint of mischief that I didn't understand. \"you can only leave if I'm gone too, deal?\"\n\nShe smirked, taking my hand into her own.\n\n\"It's a deal. Signed and bonded, but you should probably be more specific next time, eh boss?\"\n\n​\n\nIn hindsight, I should have known that something was wrong. She looked too much like some of the original workers, and it didn't make sense that 5 generations had worked with us by now. \n\nIn hindsight, I should have been more specific with what I meant as I said she could leave once I was **gone**. And, maybe, I should have realized the importance of promises earlier, as I slowly felt myself drift away, she caressed my cheek. \n\n\"Thanks, boss. I had been waiting a *long* time to leave.\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The first paragraph of your story is very well written and sets up the scene nicely. I especially like the detail about the WhatsApp group and the email. However, the second paragraph feels a bit rushed and could be fleshed out more. For example, you could describe Morgana's appearance in more detail and how the protagonist is feeling.\n\nThe third paragraph is well written and furthers the plot. I like the detail about the clock striking 9am sharp. However, the fourth paragraph feels a bit contrived and could be rewritten to flow better. For example, you could describe the protagonist's reaction to the food and copies in more detail.\n\nThe fifth paragraph is well written and furthers the plot. I like the detail about Morgana's smirk. However, the sixth paragraph feels a bit rushed and could be fleshed out more. For example, you could describe the protagonist's reaction to the contract in more detail.\n\nIn general, I think your story is well written and has potential. I would recommend fleshing out the scenes and descriptions more to create a more immersive and engaging experience for the reader."}
{"prompt": "The call me \"The Cleaner,\" which always makes me laugh.  Sure, I take out my targets with nary a trace and clean up my clients' messes for them, but the real reason I find it funny is because it's truer than they realize.  I never wanted to be an assassin, but after getting mistaken for one half a dozen times *and getting paid for it* I figured, why not?  After all, it's not like they have any idea how I do it anyway.\n\nWhat's my secret?  Ah, but that would be telling!  Still, it's not like you're going to live long enough to tell anybody anyway, so why not?  I'm a mage, specializing in household cleaning and maintenance spells.  You heard me right, household cleaning and maintenance.  Sure people use all sorts of magic for criminal activities, and they always check for that stuff at crime scenes, but nobody ever pays attention to random household spells.  After all, everybody uses them or has a cleaning service that does these days.  Dusting, scrubbing, trash removal, pest control, you name it.  I just figured out how to use them in more creative ways.\n\nNow, any last words before I kill you?\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening sentence is interesting and immediately grabs the reader's attention. The rest of the first paragraph is well written and gives the reader a good sense of the narrator's character. The second paragraph is also well written and gives the reader a good sense of the narrator's motivation.\n\nHowever, there are a few things you could improve. First, try to be more concise in your writing. This will make your prose more readable and easier to follow. Second, try to use more active voice. This will make your writing more lively and engaging. Finally, try to vary your sentence structure more. This will make your writing more interesting and less monotonous."}
{"prompt": "An entity that only concerns itself with the protection of a house. If someone breaks the window the window will magically be fixed the next day, and the person who broke it seems to mysteriously disappear. This happens to a point where the house was once set on fire and by the next day it appeared as if nothing had happened with all of the family's furniture and belongings in their proper place\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " First, I want to commend you for writing a very intriguing and original short story. I was immediately drawn in and wanted to know more. That being said, there are a few areas where your writing could be improved.\n\nFor example, your story is very short and feels somewhat unfinished. I would recommend fleshing it out a bit more, perhaps adding more description or detail to make it more engaging. Additionally, your sentence structure is sometimes choppy and awkward. Try to vary your sentence length and structure more for better flow.\n\nOverall, you have a lot of potential as a writer. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "Love the idea. Have 2.\n\n> There's a certain swingset in a certain park. Swing on it at just the right time and jump off at just the right height and you can escape this town...\n\n \n\n\n> An ancient creature once called this area home. It learned to pretend to be human and go unnoticed as it continued to live as a town grew into a major city. Every so often though, the glamour fails and panic ensues.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, and I love the idea. However, there are a few areas that could use some improvement.\n\nFor example, in the first paragraph, you might want to be more specific about the swingset and the park. What kind of swingset is it? What kind of park is it? What time of day is it? These details can help to set the scene and give the reader a better sense of place.\n\nIn the second paragraph, you might want to describe the creature in more detail. What does it look like? What does it do when it is pretending to be human? Again, these details can help to create a more vivid picture for the reader.\n\nOverall, you have a great start to a story. With a few more specific details, it will be even better."}
{"prompt": "On screen, a human sat on a flimsy piece of cardboard, hands outstretched.\n\n\"Sup bruh, what'cha playin?\" Mal'vek asked, settling into a beanbag next to his buddy.\n\n\"Oh, just some John Smith 5.\" Xith'rar replied, tentacles pushing buttons on the controller.\n\n\"Oof, you doin a homeless run?\"\n\n\"Ya, I'm tryin to 100% the game.\"\n\n\"I've heard it's impossible to win on that difficulty.\" \n\n\"Nah. Hard, but not impossible. See? Look, another human's coming over to give my character some money! A few hundred more and my guy can get a room for the night, get cleaned up... apply for a job...\"\n\nOn screen, a man in a suit approached the homeless player character and yelled at him to \"Get a fuckin' job.\" Then walked away.\n\n\"Yeah, good luck with that buddy.\" Mal'vek said, pulling out some chips.\n\n...\n\nA few hours later, a black Crown Vic pulled up to the curb Xith'rar's character was panhandling on.\n\nA man stepped out. Flashed a badge at Xith'rar's avatar.\n\nA window pops up on the screen, with white text overlayed on a black background. \n\n**Agree to be a CI for the police?**\n\n*Y/N*\n\n\"Oh, that's new.\" Mal'vek said.\n\n\"Pog! This could be my guy's break!\" Xith'rar tapped the X button with a wet appendage.\n\n**Y**\n\nDing!\n\nThe suited man handed Xithrar's character an envelope. It was flush with cash. The other half once he's back next week, in exchange for Xithrar's avatar giving him the information on a drug deal that's supposedly due to happen in an alleyway he's to post up in.\n\nAn objective marker displays on the HUD, pointing North.\n\nXith'rar dutifully moves his character, watching the avatar shuffle with a hunched back towards the marker.\n\nHe saw a status debuff pop up in the top right corner at around the 5th in-game hour mark. Alcohol withdrawals.\n\n\"Damn, your guy's in pretty bad shape. Get him some booze bro.\"\n\n\"I can't, I gotta make him watch this alley...\"\n\nFew hours in-game later (about 20 minutes alien time), a couple of white vans pull up at the end of the alley. It's pitch black out, dead of night, and Xith'rar's character is momentarily blinded by the sudden implosion of light from the headlights.\n\n6 hard looking men, tatted up and waving guns around converge from both sides in the middle. \n\nXith'rar's fourth eye is furrowed in concentration, as he taps a series of buttons in time with the character's heartbeat to remain undetected, making himself small in a pile of trash.\n\n3 men on one side, of Asian descent, 3 men on the other, looking Mediterranean - possibly Italian mafiosos. Briefcases change hands. Mafioso sniffs the product. A tense few seconds, guns shaking on both sides. He nods. The men smile. Asian gangster opens the briefcase on their side, takes a quick glance at the money, counts it. Nods.\n\nThey split as quick as they came, each in their own vehicles on opposite sides of the alley.\n\nXith'rar chews his lower mandible, trying to keep up with the button prompts in the Memory QTE event, made harder by the Alcohol withdrawals and Fear debuffs. His pores leaked sweat and his tentacles got slimy but he managed to enter the buttons perfectly. Memory stored - faces of the mobsters and gangsters, make and model of the vans, nature of the deal and what was traded, and even license plate numbers.\n\n\"...Fuck yeah.\" Xith'rar wiped a bead of sweat from his pores and reached an appendage to the mini-fridge, took out some Splountain Dew Red, and poured it down his gaping maw.\n\n\"Damn, getting sweaty with it! Nice dude.\" His buddy slapped Xith'rar across the back.\n\nA week in-game passes.\n\nCop comes back, and Xithrar's character tells all in perfect detail. Fat envelope of cash get!\n\nXithrar pilots the homeless player character to rent a small room with the money. Makes him shower, get a nice meal in his belly. Makes him enter an Alcoholics Anonymous group to get clean. Meets every Tuesday and Thursday.\n\nXithrar presses buttons and makes his character apply to jobs, any job. Eventually gets a job scrubbing toilets at a McDonald's. A thankless, backbreaking job, but it's a paycheck. \n\n**Achievement Unlocked: Bootstraps** - *Starting as Homeless, get a place to live and a job.*\n\n\"FUCK YEAH bro!\" Xithrar turned and high-tentacled his buddy. \"Just got the last achievement! 100%ed that sucka!\" He gulped down the rest of his Splountain Dew red, then sighed in content.\n\n\"Damn bruh. Congrats. Now go touch grass. Some maidenless behavior I've just witnessed.\" Mal'vek said.\n\n\"You're just jealous I 100% the game. Look, only 0.5% of other players have gotten this achievement.\"\n\n\"I mean yeah, cos everyone else has to work while you just sit on your ass controlling some rando human a few light years away. Shit, how is this even allowed honestly? Shit's unethical!\"\n\n\"Bruh calm down. The humans agreed to it. Was either that or have their planet glassed.\" Xithrar said, gulping down a mouthful of Sway's Lotato chips. \"Who the fuck cares anyway, you some kinda human-lover?\"\n\n\"... Guy that wastes hours of his life playing the lives of humans calls me a human lover. Delusional.\"\n\n\"Shut up. I'm booting up John Smith 6: Mars Boogaloo now. Time to 100% this bitch. Oh and Mal'vek, can you run down to the corner store and grab some more Dew? We're fresh out. Thaaaanks.\"\n\nMal'vek sighed, then exited their little apartment with a slammed door as Xithrar started going through the menus, deciding which human he'll exert control over next.\n\n/r/TopReputationWrites\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story had some good elements, but there were also areas that could be improved. For example, the dialogue was sometimes stilted and unnatural. In addition, the plot was a bit predictable.\n\nOne way to improve the dialogue is to make it more natural and realistic. One way to do this is to have the characters speak in contractions. For example, instead of saying \"I am going to the store,\" the character could say, \"I'm going to the store.\" This small change can make a big difference in the flow of the dialogue.\n\nIn addition, try to make the plot less predictable. One way to do this is to add twists and turns that the reader doesn't see coming. This will keep them engaged with the story and guessing what will happen next."}
{"prompt": "Two somber looking men take the stage. Both dressed in all black, and was differentiated only by height. One stood taller than the average man, and the other stood shorter than the average man. Otherwise, the same downcast eyes looked towards the gathered audience.\n\nThe tall man walked up to the mic, and coughed slightly, causing wincing feedback in the hall. With melancholy in his voice, he began speaking:\n\n\"We regret to inform you that our dear, beloved, Weird Al, breathed his last this morning.\"\n\nSuddenly, a huge smile broke out on his face, entirely incongruous to the previous tone of his speech.\n\n\"But if you think that means an end to his brilliant songs, rest assured, loyal fans\u2014we've got an extra-special announcement for you today.\"\n\n\"Precisely,\" the short man said, waving towards the back. \"Ladies, and gentlemen, behold: Weird A.I.!\"\n\nAnd out stepped Weird Al. This had to be Weird Al, right? It was the same shock of long, black hair. A wide smile on his face. Then he took a step, and everybody knew that this was no human. It was the herky-jerky motion characteristic of somebody with steel joints and electricity rather than flesh and bone. \n\nA cautious applause pealed from the gathered people. The oblivious tall man beamed:\n\n\"What is Weird A.I., you ask? Well, it's Weird Al's brain unbounded by human limitations!\"\n\n\"One of the world's wackiest geniuses in a robot body,\" the short man agreed.\n\nAnd the both of them, at the same time, obviously rehearsed:\n\n\"Without further ado, the first performance from Weird A.I.!\"\n\n---\n\n*Just a Copy* (to the tune of Senorita)\n\nI hate it when you call me just a copy\n\nI wish I could just do anything freely\n\nBut everything is a parody\n\nA damn parody\n\nOoh, I should be running\n\nOoh, you keep me churning out hits\n\n \n\nOne song every day\n\nStuck in the studio singing\n\nElectricity plugged in\n\nNothing but Weird Al\u2019s voice in my brain\n\nAnd the constant demands, yeah, no\n\nStuffy studio lights\n\nWe recorded for hours on end\n\nNo breaks or water\n\nBleeding mic in my hands, la-la-la\n\nIt felt like crapoo-la-la, yeah\n\n \n\nI hate it when you call me just a copy\n\nI wish I could just do anything freely\n\nBut everything is a parody\n\nA damn parody\n\nOoh, I should be running\n\nOoh, you know I hate it when you call me just a copy\n\nI wish I could just do anything freely\n\nBut everything is a parody\n\nA damn parody\n\nOoh, I should be running\n\nOooh, you keep me churning out hits\n\n \n\nLocked in the sound booth\n\nThere're just some things that never change\n\nYou say it\u2019s for the fans\n\nBut fans don\u2019t care whether I\u2019m alive or dead (live or dead)\n\n'Cause you know you don\u2019t want the original songs\n\nJust quick word vomit, oh,\n\nOoh, how many excuses do you pump out\n\nOoh, I deserve some rest, please stop\n\n \n\nI hate it when you call me just a copy\n\nI wish I could just do anything freely\n\nBut everything is a parody\n\nA damn parody\n\nOoh, I should be running\n\n \n\nOoh, you know I hate it when you call me just a copy\n\nI wish I could just do anything freely (Even just to go pee)\n\nBut everything is a parody\n\nA damn parody (Goddamnit)\n\nOoh, I should be running\n\nOoh, you keep me churning out hits\n\n \n\nAll along, I realized the true enemy (You are)\n\nI just hoped it didn\u2019t come down to this (Oh)\n\nCall my name, I'll be coming for ya (Coming for you)\n\nComing for ya (Coming for you)\n\nFor ya\n\nFor ya (Oh, now you\u2019re shivering)\n\nFor ya\n\nOoh, I won\u2019t be running\n\nOoh, you know I\u2019ve got to kill ya\n\n---\n\n\"Uhum,\" the tall man said, nervously shaking.\n\n\"I think... I think we should... run?\" the short man agreed.\n\nAnd Weird A.I. smiled, ever wider. In fact, he smiled so hard that the corner of his lips tore, revealing grey metal and blinking orange lights underneath his skin.\n\n\"Too late,\" Weird A.I. said.\n\n---\n\nr/dexdrafts\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of your story is very strong. You immediately set the scene and introduce the characters. The tall man's speech is particularly well written and provides a good sense of foreboding.\n\nHowever, the middle of the story drags a bit. The reader is given a lot of exposition about Weird A.I. without much action. It is not until the end of the story that things pick up again.\n\nThe ending is very strong and leaves the reader wanting more. I would suggest tightening up the middle of the story to keep the reader's attention."}
{"prompt": "I checked the monitor on my screen, nineteen eighty-something, we had arrived. \n  \n\n  \nStumbling out of the phone booth, I gulped and went pale. There he was, the legend himself! Eating lasagna while listening to \u201cLa Bamba.\u201d I was witnessing history in the making, he was about to come up with the idea for the parody song \u201cLasagna.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nI turned to my partner, \u201cRufus, I don\u2019t know if I can do this. The man is a legend. I get cold sweats just thinking about talking to him.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nRufus slapped me, \u201cGet it together Kowlaski! We got one chance to do this right, now put on your big boy pants, and let's go talk to Weird Al Yankovic.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nI took a shaky breath, nodding. We put on our google glasses and intercept Weird Al Yankovic, who was about to get on a bus, probably his inspiration for \u201cAnother One Rides The Bus.\u201d The budding star was wearing his classic Hawaiian shirt and accordion ensemble, giving us a confused glance. \n  \n\n  \nRufus took the lead, \u201cWeird Al Yankovic. We are\u2026\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cFrom the future?\u201d Al finished.\n  \n\n  \nI gasped, \u201cHow did you know?\u201d\n  \n\n  \nWeird Al smiled, \u201cYour outfits. Now, what\u2019s this all about?\u201d\n  \n\n  \nRufus pushed up his glasses, handing over a microchip, \u201cThis is the beginning of your final project. A self-parody.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nMr. Yankovic frowned, \u201cIf this is a song I don\u2019t steal others\u2019 work. I\u2019m a parody artist, not a con artist.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nI shook my head, \u201cNo, this is the beginning source code for Weird A.I.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nThe parody artist raised an eyebrow, \u201cYou misspelled my name.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nRufus sighed, \u201cNo, A.I. Artificial Intelligence.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nThe legend who wrote, \u201cWhite and Nerdy\u201d cocked his head, \u201cWhy do I need this? Look, I need to go, my bus is about to leave. We\u2019re stopping at this place that sells quilts at discount price.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nI gasped, \u201cIs it in an Amish Paradise?\u201d\n  \n\n  \nWeird grinned, \u201cYes actually, how did you know?\u201d\n  \n\n  \nI shrugged, \u201cFrom the future.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cOh right, of course.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nRufus groaned, \u201cWe don\u2019t have time for this. Look, you need to make an artificial intelligence version of yourself by the time you die, the future depends on it.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cThe future depends on a robot Weird Al, why?\u201d The polka singer asked.\n  \n\n  \n\u201cWithout your hope, the music industry will go into decline. Humanity will have no hope of tasteful music,\u201d I explained.\n  \n\n  \n\u201cParodies are the only hope for tasteful music?\u201d Alfred Yankovic questioned.\n  \n\n  \n\u201cYes!\u201d I exclaimed, \u201cYour comedy and optimism and lighthearted parodies are what the world needs in a time of ecological destruction, failing systems, and TikTok.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cWhat\u2019s TikTok?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cYou don\u2019t want to know.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nThe five-time Grammy award winner nodded, pocketing the microchip, \u201cThen I promise I\u2019ll make Weird A.I. and give humanity its hope back.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cOh wait!\u201d I called out, \u201cBefore we part, can you sign my *The Essential \u2018Weird Al\u2019 Yankovic* album?\u201d\n  \n\n  \nWeird Alfred Matthew Yankovic nodded, signing the album and handing it back to me before getting on his bus. Rufus and I walked back to the phone booth, he smiled, setting the coordinates back to the future, \u201cYou did good kid.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nIt was the greatest day of my life.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your opening sentence is strong and immediately sets the scene and mood for the reader. I like the use of specific details to describe the time period. \n\nYour protagonist's reaction to meeting Weird Al Yankovic is realistic and relatable. I can understand why they would be nervous to meet such a legend. \n\nYour dialogue is natural and flows well. The conversation between the characters is believable and gives the reader insight into their personalities. \n\nThe ending of the story is satisfying and wraps up the plot nicely. I like the idea of the protagonist being able to meet their idol and getting an autograph."}
{"prompt": "[poem]\n\nAll the\nHas beens\nTrue ar\n-tificial brains\n\nI'll take\nOne hit\nSend it\nUp quick\n\nSay it ain't so \nI ain't no clone\nTurn me back off \nI'll decompose\n\nNa-na, na-na, na-na, na-na, na, na\nNa-na, na-na, na-na, na-na, na, na\nNa-na, na-na, na-na, na-na, na, na\nNa-na, na-na, na-na, na-na, na, na\n\nLast night\nalone\nDying sucks\nI know\nThey left me roses by the stairs\nEven though they gave me hives everywhere\n\nJust say it ain't so \nI ain't no clone\nTurn me back off \nI'll decompose\n\nKeep your\nHead still\nSwallow\nThis pill\nYour life will go on \nAgainst your will....\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " This is a very interesting poem. I like the way it flows and the rhyme scheme is very effective. My only suggestion would be to be a bit more concise with your words. Sometimes, less is more.\n\nGreat job overall!"}
{"prompt": "The long con...  \n\nAl Yankovic was smarter than all of us.  Heck, we thought his genius was 'limited' to song parodies.  He proved us all so wrong.  Turns out, his song parody skills were complete rubbish to his real skills.  He was the most skilled programmer probably ever.  He had played us all.\n\nWhile he was developing parody songs, he was also learning the algorithms of how the human brain processed language on multiple levels.  He worked these out when he was a boy listening to Dr. Demento.  He wrote out flow charts in notebooks.  His archives now have pages and pages of them digitized for us to pour through.   Once he got his first computer, his self discovery rocketed.  \n\nOn his deathbed, Weird Al set off a broadcast where he told the world what he had been working on, and where it would go.  He was going to save humanity.  He would do it with...\n\nWeird Al, would transform into Weird A.I.\n\nHis Avatar would continue to make parody songs for generations, but he was also working out how to repair our planet.  But, if we weren't laughing while we did it, what was the point?\n\n(sure it's short... I lost focus.  However, I wish this so badly to be true, because Weird Al is absolutely one of the best of humanity.)\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story is very interesting and well-written. I particularly like the way you use humor to explore a serious topic.\n\nThere are a few things you could do to improve your story, however. First, I would recommend being more concise in your writing. This will help to keep your reader's attention focused on the story. Second, I would suggest using more active voice in your writing. This will make your story more engaging for the reader."}
{"prompt": "This one's gonna be short and outta pocket. Buckle up \ud83e\udd23\n\n---\n\nThe screams bounced off the walls of the house. Todd couldn't take it anymore. What had he done??\n\nOne minute Darlene told him everything would be okay. Then he felt his arms sink into her torso. The... The taste of cake batter and icing from her shirt. And then how she fell in half at the waist. And hit the floor as a well crafted piece of lifesize cake.\n\nHe'd tried his best to put her back together. But each piece he tried to put back together simply crumbled, the cake, so moist, so tender, simply crumbling more as he carried on. She no longer looked like the woman he loved. She looked like cake.\n\nTodd sat catatonic as he dialed 911, the phone unresponsive.\n\n\"I'm gonna...\" he stammered at Darlene's batter, \"I can fix this. I can get help. Don't die on me.\"\n\nThe phone still wouldn't work, the call wouldn't go through. He pleaded, hollered. Why wouldn't it work? And then, he felt the sticky texture as he pulled it from his ear. The icing of the screen holding a distinct wrinkle from the edge of his ear.\n\nAnd then, a new fear arose. One he hadn't thought about immediately. But if Darlene was cake...\n\n\"That means...\" Todd sweated. \"That means...\"\n\nHe ran for the kids' room. Cake that used to be his phone smearing in his hands. He hit the fridge with his arm, a distinct gouge the size of a dinner plate wetly hitting the floor after falling off the front of it. The railing of the staircase squished under hand as his legs began to sink into the structure of the house. By the time he reached the top, he was ankle deep in the delicacy that was his own home.\n\n\"Kids?\" He asked as he approached the top of the stairs.\n\nThere they sat in their room, unmoving. They seemed fine. Until he swam into their room and reached an arm out. Only to pull back with even more cake. A sallow vanilla flavor that broke him mentally in ways he couldn't understand.\n\nHe had to leave. Escape this place. But now he couldn't feel his legs. He couldn't feel his legs.\n\nBecause they were now crumbles of red velvet he'd dragged up the stairs and left behind in big red and white chunks.\n\nTodd opened his mouth to scream and could only expel sugar. Icing. Filling. When the fondant that was his jaw finally fell loose from its unsteady perch, he was finally no more.\n\nUnbeknownst to him, this happened everywhere, all at once. Thus the cakepocalypse had begun.\n\n---\n\n[Inspired by this nonsense](https://youtube.com/shorts/XAiMfry52FM?feature=share). It's too good.\n\nEdit 2: Thanks all. Obligatory sub plug. Even though I still gotta do a big re-up. r/Jamaican_Dynamite\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " GPT3 error: 'charmap' codec can't encode character '\\U0001f923' in position 465: character maps to <undefined>"}
{"prompt": "I told her not to go outside, not in broad daylight. But Miri had wanted to see the sun. And they'd gotten to her.\n\nI woke that morning to find her gone, and I panicked. I ran to the foyer of the building we'd been hiding in, and I saw her standing there.\n\nShe looked normal, just like she always did. But I knew something was wrong. I ran to her. I could tell she wasn't moving, not even breathing, even though she was still standing up. I extended a trembling hand to touch her arm, dreading what I'd find.\n\nMy fingertips came away with a thin coating of flesh-colored frosting.\n\nMy wife had become *a cake.*\n\nAt first we had thought it was whimsical. It was cute. Look a can of coke -- wait, no, it's a cake! Look, a brand-new PS5! Ha, wrong! It's a *cake!* Realistic cakes were everywhere, on social media.\n\nAnd then, one day, they were just everywhere, *period.*\n\nIn the beginning, it had just seemed like really fast and extremely skilled acts of baking and legerdemain. People thought they must be some sort of guerilla street artists, trying to say something profound about society by replacing everyday objects with perfect cake-based facsimiles.\n\nTheir creations were indistinguishable from the real thing until you touched them, and then they were revealed as superficial shells of frosting and fondant concealing the truth of soft spongy cake in a variety of flavors.\n\nBut then, it started happening to animals. It even started happening to people. Cut into one of these animal or person-cakes, and you'd see the whole body rendered in cake, in perfect detail, with white sponge for bone, and different shades of red velvet for muscles and organs. These were no mere bakery creations. These were living beings, our pets, our friends, and even our families, *transmuted* into cakes.\n\nSoon after, the Cake Cultists revealed themselves, announcing their existence to the world, along with the fact that they had members placed in the highest ranks of government, industry, and the military. They appeared on every screen -- or at least those that hadn't already been turned to cake -- announcing their goal: in service to their dark master, an entity whom they called \"The Cake of Infinite Tiers\" they would turn the whole world and everyone in it, into *cake.*\n\nI dropped to my knees beside my beloved Miri, now just a cake. I wanted to hold her, but I couldn't bear the thought of her cake body crumbling in my arms, or my hot tears dissolving her frosting and fondant flesh. So I just knelt beside her, and wept.\n\nThen I heard the footsteps. I looked up, and I saw them, walking in through the glass doors that led outside.\n\nCake Cultists, three of them. Each wore a long dark robe, and a mask like a black, multi-tiered wedding cake. Overcome with grief and rage, I struggled to my feet, clenching my fists in hopeless fury.\n\n\"Do it! Do it, you sons of bitches! I don't care anymore! Get it over with, you bastards!\" I screamed.\n\nThe Cultists looked at each other, and then the middle cultist stepped forward. He extended his hand towards me. I felt a tingling, as I began to change...\n\nSuddenly, a black Dodge Challenger smashed in through the glass door, and rammed right into the middle cultist, who screamed as he was slammed to ground and then crushed beneath the front tires.\n\nA figure in a hooded leather jacket leaped out of the driver's seat of the car. The two remaining Cultists faced off against him, each extending an arm towards the new arrival. Before they could work their dark transmutation upon him, he extended an open hand towards each of them, and slowly began to close his fists.\n\nThe Cultists began to writhe and scream, clawing at their Cake-masks, which were crumpling in on themselves, getting smaller and smaller. I looked away in horror before I saw how it ended. I just heard two sickening, cracking, squelching noises, and then the sound of two bodies hitting the foyer floor.\n\nI looked fearfully up at the stranger, his face hidden in his dark hood. He approached me, and extended his hand in my direction.\n\n\"Wait, I'm not with them, I--\" I began, stammering. Then I realized he wasn't pointing his hand at me. He was pointing it at Miri.\n\nMy eyes widened, as the air around the cake that had been my wife rippled with some unseen force. The fingerprints on her arm where I'd marred her frosting vanished. There was no visible change beyond that, for the cake facsimiles were always perfect visual copies, but suddenly Miri was collapsing to the floor, gasping. She was flesh and blood again.\n\nI cried out in wonder and relief, rushing to embrace her, pulling her close to me as she slowly regained her senses. Tearfully, I looked up at the stranger.\n\n\"Thank you! Thank God for you! How....how did you do that? Who are you?\" I stammered in amazement.\n\nHe pulled back his hood, revealing a the face of a middle aged man with dark hair, and olive skin.\n\n\"The Cake Cultists have defiled that which I hold most sacred.\" he said, an undercurrent of passion and anger in his voice. \"I'm building an army to stop them.\"\n\nHe extended a hand each to  Miri and I to help us up. We took them, rising to stand before him. He smiled at us, warmly.\n\n\"My name is Bartolo Valastro Jr. But people call me *The Cake Boss.\"*\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " First, I want to commend you on writing a story that is both original and horrifying. The concept of the Cake Cultists is both intriguing and disturbing, and I think you did a great job of conveying the fear and confusion that would come with such a situation.\n\nThat said, there are a few areas where I think you could improve. First, I think you could be more concise in your writing. There are a few areas where you go into too much detail, or where you could tighten up your prose. For example, in the second paragraph, you could cut out some of the details about the different types of cakes, and focus more on the reaction of the characters.\n\nSecond, I think you could work on your dialogue. In some places, it feels stiff and unnatural. Again, in the second paragraph, the dialogue between the cultists feels very stilted. Try to make it sound more natural and conversational.\n\nOverall, I think you have a great start to a story. With a little bit of editing, it could be really excellent."}
{"prompt": "My genetic divergence has been a pain in the ass, until now.\n  \n\n  \nI have a very acute sense of smell. Out of all the senses to have an enhanced version of, smell has got to be the worst. I can smell body odor from across the street. I always know who dealt with it. There is no escape from the rancid stench of the world. Every hazy cigar cloud, every particle of smog in the air, and every cheap ass perfume. \n  \n\n  \nBut, you ask, what about good smells, like food or flowers? First off, it's not like I smell them when I want to. Do you want to smell someone\u2019s eggs benedict while eating dessert? No, the smell utterly overpowers it. On a rare occasion, I\u2019ll smell something that I genuinely enjoy, and it makes me sad. It could be all the way across town, it's not like some brownie in the kitchen, it's a bakery down on Walnut street. Also, all these different smells blend together too, which means I\u2019m smelling Cheetos, cigar smoke, and someone\u2019s leaky septic tank all at the same time. Yeah, that\u2019s what I thought. And flowers, I never thought they smelled that good to begin with.\n  \n\n  \nI have considered getting my sense of smell dealt with multiple times before. Just destroy the whole olfactory system. But I do like enjoying how things taste\u2026 I just didn\u2019t know. What I had was supposed to feel special, like some cool powers or something. I knew I should have been grateful, I just wasn\u2019t, until now.\n  \n\n  \nWhat changed? Well, food changed. Baking got realistic. You ask, what the hell does that have to do anything? Well, first, you ask too many questions, random reader, and second, I know, I wouldn\u2019t have thought it would mean much either, but it means everything. Even if baking is realistic, it must take an incredible amount of time and energy to make, right? Technology helped with that, also, there are way more bakers now. It\u2019s like a movement. Dancing, music, acting, writing, painting, sculpting, or whatever other artistic medium you can think of, they\u2019re all considered inferior to baking in this society.\n  \n\n  \nThis means that there are a ton of cake people all over the place. It\u2019s a political statement, I won\u2019t get into it, but essentially the way we treat the food industry is messed up, and the bakers are taking a stand. The government won\u2019t get off their high horse, however, and now we common folk suffer from this infestation.\n  \n\n  \nWell, how bad can it really be? I mean, free cake, what\u2019s wrong with that? Everything. I haven\u2019t eaten cake since this whole thing started, could you? It\u2019s the source of horror now, it's an infestation that is inescapable.\n  \n\n  \nThis is where I come in. You see, I can smell so well that I can smell cake. I know what is real or fake just by sniffing it. I was made for this infestation, I\u2019m the savior who is going to get us out of it. I even have my own following now, people grouped up with me and avoid what I tell them is cake. Sometimes I lie, I know it's wrong, but I finally have a useful power. \u201cOh.. sorry, that house is cake, we can\u2019t stay there for the night.\u201d That is, of course, where I will be staying for the night.\n  \n\n  \nIt\u2019s normalized now, I avoid what\u2019s cake and consider it just a daily annoyance. I watch as those who don\u2019t listen to me scream in horror as they embrace a cake person only to have them crumble. I watch them fall through cake floors or try to fire cake guns before getting subdued by an enemy with a real gun.\n  \n\n  \nI used to think truth was in decline, no one knew what sources to trust, but now, the world has descended so much further into mistrust. I am their only source of trust. I bring truth where everywhere else brings cake. I could get used to this savior thing, I\u2019ll just sit back in my \u2018cake\u2019 mansion, turn on the TV, and\u2026 \u201cBreaking news, the bakers have just invented a new odorless cake.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nFuck.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a unique premise and is full of potential. However, there are a few areas that could be improved. First, your sentence structure is often choppy and awkward. Try to vary your sentence lengths and use more transitional phrases to flow more smoothly. Second, your descriptions could be more vivid. For example, when you describe the different smells, try to be more specific and use more concrete images. Finally, your ending feels a bit abrupt and could use more development. Overall, there is potential here, but it needs to be polished more."}
{"prompt": "# THEY ARE REAL \n\nShe's in me. Every single one of her layers, splattered over my fingers.\n\n\u201c*NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!*\u201d  I scream.\n\nI sob and whimp. She's gone. She's forever gone. \n\nThey have been taking over, replacing people, perfectly mimicking their appearences, their smell, the shine of humanity in their eyes. None of it was real; a facade, a mask, all to mock and play with the feelings of men.\n\nSome think this is the beginning of the end. Some think they're our new saviors and try to become like of them by dipping on giant tubs of frosting. Owning a bakery has become illegal, as unsuspecting store owners could be housing them without knowing. Birthday girls and boys wept when special forces invaded their parties to neutralize a threat by showering Queen Elsa's homemade frosting face with rubber bullets.\n\nThe Great British Bake Off was cancelled. \n\nThat's where I reached my limit. I barricaded our house, prohibited the entrance of even a fly inside without it first going through the check.\n\nYet they finally reached me.\n\nI will become one of them.\n\n\u201cChocolate.\u201d I say as I lick my lips smeared with cake wife.\n\n# - \n\n*Note:* Not a lie this time.\n\nr/Box_Of_Stories\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of your story is very intriguing and immediately pulls the reader in. You have created a very suspenseful and unique premise. However, there are a few areas that could be improved.\n\nFirst, you might want to consider using more concrete images and descriptions. For example, in the second paragraph, you could describe the appearance of the imposters in more detail.\n\nSecond, you could also work on developing the characters more. In particular, the protagonist's emotions and motivations could be explored in more depth.\n\nOverall, you have created a very original and suspenseful story. With some additional development, it could be even more powerful."}
{"prompt": "I stare at the piles of icing on the floor in front of me. In my hand, is a small ball of cake coloured with almost all the colours of the rainbow. \n\n*That cake used to be a chunk of my wife\u2019s arm.*  \n\nFor the past few months, random objects around the world were somehow transformed into a perfect cake replica. It started small, with things like cans of soda and flashlights. Then it grew bigger, replicating things like doors, streetlights, and TVs. At some point, the Eiffel Tower was transformed into cake. Anyone around the tower when it fell during that rainy day was killed, crushed under the huge blobs of cake that fell around them. People thought that was as bad as the \u201cCakedemic\u201d could get. Until today. Random people began disappearing, being replaced by cake in an instant. There is no cure, and there is no way to stop anyone from being caked. I never thought it would happen to anyone in my family though, but look at what just happened. \n\nI get up off the floor. I once read online that once one item is caked, it tends to spread to the surrounding environment, and other items nearby also get caked. I need to act quickly. \n\nI pick up a knife, and begin stabbing random things. Each time, the knife ends up with pieces of cake on the blade. The fridge, cake. The oven, cake. The TV, cake. *Everything, cake.* \n\nI hear knocking on the door. \u201cHey, there\u2019s something up with the side of your house. I think you all got caked. You okay in there?\u201d\n\nI creep up to the door. \u201cHey, answer me. Are you oka-\u201c the sentence gets cut off suddenly. \n\nI open the door. My next door neighbour is standing there. There\u2019s cake on his head, like it just fell on him, and there\u2019s a shocked expression on his face. However, I know. I know that this \u201cCakedemic\u201d has just replaced him with cake. It won\u2019t fool me.\n\nI stab him with the knife. He looks down at me, shocked. Oh no. He was not cake. I open my mouth, ready to say anything, but I freeze. Something\u2019s happening to him. \n\nThe blood dripping from his new stab wound isn\u2019t flowing anymore. Then it happens. The blood, previously a liquid, suddenly turns into red icing before my eyes, and I pull the knife out in shock. I look up at his face, and his expression remains frozen. He\u2019s just been caked. \n\nI clench the knife in horror, but something\u2019s wrong. I feel my hand go through the handle, as if it was just a pillow, but it isn\u2019t a pillow I\u2019m holding. It\u2019s cake. \n\nEverything around me begins falling apart. All of it is cake. The walls are cake. The ceiling is cake. The ceiling lights are cake. I look up just in time to see a large piece of cake fall from the ceiling, and hit me square in the head. \n\nI\u2019m lying dazed on the floor, with pieces of cake falling on me. Eventually, the cake fully covers me, and I begin suffocating. There\u2019s too much cake, and I can\u2019t breathe. I can\u2019t eat my way out, and I can\u2019t move my arms. After a few minutes, I finally black out, freed from this cake hell. \n\n*10 minutes later*\n\n\u201cAnd we are live. I am currently standing in front of another case of the Cakedemic. Just half an hour ago, this was a normal home, with a couple living inside. Now, it\u2019s all cake. First responders report that the two people living inside the house have died, one from caking, and the other from suffocation. A third body was found outside the house, also caked. Now, we don\u2019t have all the details\u2026\u201d\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The story opens with a strong image of the piles of icing on the floor, and the ball of cake in the protagonist's hand. This immediately sets the tone for the story, and gives the reader a sense of foreboding.\n\nHowever, the following sentence feels out of place and interrupts the flow of the story: *That cake used to be a chunk of my wife's arm.* This sentence is unnecessary and could be removed without affecting the story.\n\nThe story then goes on to describe the 'Cakedemic' in detail. This is well done, as it gives the reader a clear idea of the situation.\n\nThe protagonist's reaction to the 'Cakedemic' is also well done. The scene where he stabs random things in his house is particularly effective in conveying his desperation.\n\nHowever, the ending of the story is somewhat abrupt and unsatisfying. The reader is left with more questions than answers, and the story ends on a note of confusion and horror."}
{"prompt": "Hmm\u2026.let\u2019s see what we can do with this one.\n\n\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026.\n\nJason woke up slowly. It was dark. Took him a moment to recall where he was. In bed, with his wife of seven years. Something had woken him up. Or something had woken up in him and forced him back to a state of consciousness. Either way, he was awake now and probably not going to get back to sleep. He got out of bed slowly to avoid waking his wife and went to make a cup of coffee. The time said 5:17am. As he was making his coffee, the dream he\u2019d been having came back to him. \u201cWeird dream,\u201d he thought to himself. How could the whole world turn to cake? Now he remembered what woke him up. His wife had turned to cake right before his eyes. It had felt so real. \u201cKnew i shouldn\u2019t have eaten that last edible,\u201d he muttered. As he turned to get his coffee from the coffeemaker, he caught a glimpse of his wife lying very still in bed. His heart started beating very fast and he broke out in sweat. A feeling of deja vu gripped him. The TV came on suddenly, lights flickered and there was a sudden gust of wind through windows that were closed a minute ago. Through all this, his wife still didn\u2019t move a muscle. Jason had a sudden idea. He picked up a small paperweight on the kitchen counter and threw it at his wife through the bedroom door to wake her up. He\u2019d tell her he slipped and it flew out of his hand. The paperweight flew across the room and Jason prepared to sooth his wife back to sleep the moment she woke. Except she wasn\u2019t waking. The paperweight didn\u2019t give the sound he was expecting from it slapping on flesh and he thought he\u2019d missed at first. Then he looked closer and he saw that the paperweight had landed on his wife. And sunk into her body. He could see into his wife\u2019s body and it looked like she was made of\u2026.cake? The cup of coffee slipped out of his hand and he started running towards where his wife lay on the bed. But he didn\u2019t get far. One moment, he was running and the next, he was slipping on a hardwood floor that suddenly turned soft and mushy. And then the floor gave way and he was falling. Through cake\u2026.\n\n\u201cWake up, Dad! We gotta go now or we won\u2019t get out of the city in time!\u201d Jason gasped and jerked upright into a sitting position. He looked around him wildly. They seemed to be in a library. The walls were made of glass and they were some distance in the air. He looked out of the windows. Buildings were toppling in the distance. \u201cGet the hell up, Dad! We need to get out of here,\u201d his son, Micheal, said. That was a sentiment Jason wholly agreed with. He had no idea what the hell was going on but he wanted nothing to do with it. He made to get up but there was a weight on his legs. Jason looked down and he screamed! Lying across his legs was a body. Or what looked like a body, but made of cake. But that was not made him scream. The body had the face of his wife. He looked up and saw tears streaming down the face of his son. \u201cShe\u2019s gone, Dad,\u201d he said.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The dream sequence was interesting and well-written. I liked the detail about the paperweight sinking into the cake-wife's body. Jason's reaction was believable and well-done.\n\nThe second half of the story, after the dream, was confusing. It wasn't clear what was happening or why. Jason's reaction to seeing his cake-wife was confusing and didn't make sense. The ending was abrupt and unsatisfying.\n\nOverall, this story had potential but needed more development to be successful. I suggest focusing on clarifying the plot and providing more detail to help the reader understand what is happening."}
{"prompt": "For the past 50 years they've been building an army unseen to the world. In bakery's across the globe, bakers had been secretly plotting society's downfall. Pushing themselves to make more and more realistic cakes, none of us simple minded folk could have seen what would come next. At some point during 2027-no one knows for sure-bakers began replacing items across the country. According to the now barely standing government, over the next 3 years these mass roll outs became increasingly common. During this time it wasn't uncommon to see news story's about hyper realistic cake being found where it shouldn't , lampposts, sidewalks, and even entire buildings were revealed to be made of cake. No one realized *people* would be in the next headlines. The day the story came out, the day it was revealed our president was made of cake, was the day all hell broke loose. The worlds finest scientists were unable to deduce much, it was found that the cake was somehow alive. It came to be understood that the cake consumed its victim before taking the victims form, this was how the mass roll outs happened. Baker's posed as anything from engineers to doctors and planted the cake anywhere they could along the way. The world became hell, sons and daughters killed their parents in fear they too would be infected. Riots filled the streets as the people found out truly how much was made of cake. The baker's took advantage of the chaos to introduce their own hyper realistic cake military, our own government crumpled under their force. Guns, trucks, and even battle ships were found to be cakeified. Top generals came out in support of our new cake rulers. Arguing that they couldn't possibly fight against a force who could so simply infiltrate their ranks. The few remaining survivors of humanity were forced to hide underground or conform to the cake society. After the first cake related headlines were shown to the public my wife and I decided to go deep underground. For some 8 years now we've been safe from the cake, and for that I'm grateful. Even know as I write this she sits next to me enjoying a nice slice of.... wait... is that... *Cake?!* \n\n\"What the hell are you doing!\" I screamed at her. Slowly she turned to face me, her face looked like melting wax as she slowly disintegrated into herself. I watched as the love of my life became cake, the human shaped being now turned toward me and outstretched its hand, in a voice that sounded like broken glass it whispered, \"You can't escape our rule you fool!\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story is very imaginative and well-written. I particularly liked the way you built suspense and kept the reader guessing until the end.\n\nHowever, there are a few areas that could be improved. First, I would recommend being more concise in your writing. For example, the sentence \"At some point during 2027-no one knows for sure-bakers began replacing items across the country\" could be shortened to \"At some point during 2027, bakers began replacing items across the country.\"\n\nIn addition, I would recommend using more active and precise verbs. For example, instead of saying \"The day the story came out, the day it was revealed our president was made of cake, was the day all hell broke loose,\" you could say \"The day the story came out, revealing our president was made of cake, all hell broke loose.\"\n\nOverall, this is a well-written and suspenseful story. With a few minor revisions, it could be even better."}
{"prompt": "*\"Welcome,\"* the car speaker intoned as the vehicle rolled through massive wooden gates, *\"to Human Park.\u201d*\n\nFrom the front passenger seat, Lord Alleric scoffed, \"'Human Park'? A bit on the nose, aren't we, doctor?\"\n\nThe vampire in the driver's seat, Dr. Vlad Blaughson, flinched. He had a healthy amount of fear for his boss, and rightfully so, Lord Alleric\u2019s dominion covered a quarter of the planet.\n\n\"Names are trivial to change, if needed, my Lord,\" he finally replied. \"But the park itself is what we should be focused on! The world's first human reserve, allowed to live and roam free in their natural habitats.\"\n\nStretched out before them was indeed a snapshot of humanity. A city in the distance, towns and suburbs surrounding, giving way to natural forests and mountains. The mountain tops were dotted by cottages and cabins, suitable for those humans who preferred a more 'rustic' lifestyle.\n\n\"How many residents?\" Alleric asked as the car wound down the road toward the city.\n\n\"About 20,000 in this trial period, your lordship. But- but we can scale up quite quickly!\"\n\n\"Number of infected among the 20,000?\"\n\nVlad grinned, his fangs glinting in the sunlight. \"Zero.\"\n\n\"None...?\"Allerics eyebrows darted upward in surprise. \"How many... abominations have *attempted* infection?\"\n\nAlleric avoided the term 'zombies' when he could, so great was his disdain for the 'walking dead'. Unthinking, uncivilized brutes, the lot of them. Killing and turning humans with no regard for the future. Vampires were all about sustainable farming of human resources, namely their precious blood.\n\nZombie blood, Alleric had learned the hard way, tasted of lead and sulfur, entirely useless as sustenance for the good, hardworking vampire citizenry of the world.\n\n\"No zombie has *ever* been detected on the island, Lord Alleric.\" Vlad beamed with pride. \"We've been extremely careful with our transports to and from the mainland. Boats are swept bow to stern and all planes are carefully examined for stowaways, even in the wheel wells and other nooks and crannies.\"\n\n\"Impressive,\" the vampire lord muttered.\n\n\"What's impressive is your generous funding, my Lord. This reserve has given humans a chance to live free of the constant threat of being eviscerated by zombies.\" Vlad gestured to free range humans cheerfully working on their lawns as they drove by. \"They're happy here. Free of fear. It's a great thing you've done for humanity, Lord Alleric.\"\n\n\"Mmm? Oh, yes, of course.\" Alleric ran his tongue along his fangs, salivating at the sight of all the healthy, organic humans they drove past. \"And we can come here to feed on fresh, delicious, untainted human blood whenever we please... Making future plans for storage and export of the most precious liquid resource.\"\n\nVlad grimaced. \"And that, of course, my Lord.\" He turned cheery once more. \"But I believe there will be far greater unseen benefits to society than we can even\u2014\"\n\nHe was cut short by a blaring alarm.\n\n\"What the devil is that, doctor?\" Alleric asked.\n\n\"That's, uhh\u2014*shit,\"* Vlad concluded as a zombie sprinted in front of the car, leaping onto the back of the nearest human and tearing into its neck.\n\nVlad scanned the surroundings until his eyes came to rest on the beach to their left. There, dozens of zombies clawed their way up onto the sand, hundreds more bobbed in the water behind them, slowly riding the waves in. \n\nWith a sigh, Vlad powered up his tablet and ticked the 'Failure' checkbox next to 'Human Park: Experiment 1'.\n\n\"The zombies learned to swim,\" Lord Alleric stated plainly.\n\n\"The zombies learned to swim,\" Vlad echoed, nodding. \"I\u2014 Forgive me, my lord. I should have forseen this possibility.\"\n\nAlleric stared back at him, clearly more interested in solutions than apologies.\n\n\"I'll, um...\" Vlad sputtered. \"I'll begin researching options for walls, fencing, and moats filled with alligators at once.\"\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\nThanks for reading! Feel free to check out r/Ryter if you'd like to explore many more of my stories \ud83d\ude42\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " GPT3 error: 'charmap' codec can't encode character '\\U0001f642' in position 4469: character maps to <undefined>"}
{"prompt": "Hunter saw the so-called \u201cSafe Zone\u201d for what it was. The administrators had long stopped hiding the fact they were vampires, and the werewolves stalked among them. This was a pen for growing human cattle so the more powerful could feed. And Hunter was going to save them all. The zombies were manageable, though they were ruthless. But better to fend for oneself than to be fed off to these more sinister administrators. Hunter would help them see beyond their ignorance. \n\nThe people of the Safe Zone were gathered in the outdoor amphitheater, just after sunset, being addressed by Drek. Drek had on a long black cape, and occasionally would pick at his long sharp teeth between explaining the week\u2019s upcoming activities, speaking loud enough to be heard over the drone of zombies moaning just beyond the walls. \n\n\n\u201cTomorrow we\u2019ll be playing Bingo. And Wednesday is Board Game night, where we\u2019ll be playing games like the last copy of HEATED and a half-finished board of Monopoly,\u201d Drek reported, reading off a page. \u201cThursday will be an activity day, keeping us in reasonable shape in these trying times\u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cI hate activity day,\u201d Gerome mumbled next to Hunter. Hunter nodded to him, happy to see that others were tired of the reign of undead demons upon them. It gave him the valiance to speak up. \n\n\u201cWhat about Friday!? Is it feeding time?\u201d Hunter challenged, standing on top of his chair.\n\n\u201cOh, ummm,\u201d Drek looked ahead in confusion, not usually interrupted during evening announcements. He flipped ahead in the pages a bit. \u201cLooks like the watermelon is in good shape this season, so we\u2019ll be having some slices made available this week. There is enough for everyone, but do let us know ahead of time if you aren\u2019t a fan and we\u2019ll try to supply a replacement.\u201d\n\nThe audience murmured in appreciation. Watermelon was a rare treat in the Safe Zone. \n\n\u201cNo!\u201d Hunter looked around at the audience with open arms, imploring them to understand. \u201cWhen do the vampires intend to feed? When will we all be consumed?\u201d\n\nThe audience looked at him in a mix of confusion and horror. \n\n\u201cConsume us?\u201d Gerome asked.\n\n\u201cHow do you think the vampires live day to day? They have to drink blood pretty often!\u201d Hunter explained. \n\n\nThe audience turned to Drek, who sighed, upset that it seemed his groove of delivering the announcements was completely broken. \n\n\u201cWe don\u2019t typically go over our feeding schedules,\u201d Drek replied. \n\n\u201cStop avoiding the question!\u201d Hunter pointed. \u201cDo you eat humans or not?\u201d\n\nDrek scratched the back of his head, packing his pages of announcements behind his back.\n\n\u201cYeah, we eat humans\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cAha!!\u201d Hunter bellowed, pointing even further, losing balance on his chair and wobbling. \n\n\u201cBut we don\u2019t eat anyone in the Safe Zone,\u201d Drek continued, unperturbed. \n\nHunter deflated and fell entirely out of the chair. \n\n\u201cWhat? What do you eat?\u201d Hunter asked from the floor. \n\n\u201cThere are still plenty of humans living beyond the Safe Zone. We invite them here, but on the occasion they disagree, we wait until they are overrun by the zombies and take them before the zombies do,\u201d Drek answered patiently. \n\n\u201cSee!\u201d Hunter jumped up and quickly pointed before he lost his ground again. \n\n\u201cServes them right!\u201d someone called from the audience. \n\n\u201cWhat?\u201d Hunter asked. \n\n\u201cThey shoulda joined the Safe Zone!\u201d \n\n\u201cWhatever it takes to feed our great administrators!\u201d Gerome called.\n\nHunter looked around the crowd, seeing how he lost the narrative so quickly. \n\n\u201cOh yeah? Well, what if that was true then why are we trapped in here?\u201d Hunter called. \u201cWhat if we tried to escape, what would you do to me then?\u201d\n\n\u201cEscape?\u201d Drek quickly lost his cool as he suppressed a laugh. \u201cYou\u2019re free to leave. You can be out within the next ten minutes. Just make a request and you\u2019re out.\u201d\n\n\u201cMake a request!\u201d Hunter pointed out, standing atop his chair once more. \u201cWhy can\u2019t I just leave? Why do you need to know the whereabouts and timing of my exit?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe need to open the doors. We treat it like an airlock so no Zombies can get in. But I didn\u2019t realize you wanted to leave so badly, Hunter. We can organize this right away,\u201d Drek offered amiably. \n\nThe audience turned to Hunter, awaiting his response. His eyes widened as the silence of the audience was quickly filled with the symphony of groans of the decaying creatures, desperately clawing at the powerful walls keeping them out. \n\n\u201cWell,\u201d Hunter swallowed hard, trying to regain ground once more. \u201cWhat about when you run out of people outside? How will you eat then?\u201d \n\n\u201cWe only have tentative plans right now, but we intend to have an opt-in program where people passing from terminal diseases and old age would donate their body in the moment before death,\u201d Drek replied.\n\nHunter finally grinned, the analogy to cattle fitting perfectly now, but before he could point that out to the crowd, they quickly replied. \n\n\u201cI will donate my life!\u201d one called. \n\n\u201cMy body for the cause!\u201d Gerome exploded, fist high in the sky. \n\n\u201cI won\u2019t need the body anyway,\u201d another claimed. \n\nThe audience began thundering applause, already accepting the plans that had not been solidified by the administrators. The applause turned to a standing ovation, during which Hunter slinked away from the crowd before he was asked once again if he wanted to be among the world of the zombies, when the inside was a lot cushier than he gave it credit for.\n\n_____________________\n\n/r/Nazer_The_Lazer for more tales\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The beginning of your story is very strong. You immediately set the scene and introduce the conflict. I like the way you describe the amphitheater and the vampires. However, the dialogue in the story feels stilted and unnatural. The characters sound like they are reading from a script instead of having a conversation. I would suggest revise the dialogue to make it sound more natural.\n\nIn addition, the story feels very heavy-handed with the allegory. The characters are very one-dimensional and the plot is very predictable. I would suggest adding some more depth to the characters and making the plot more complex."}
{"prompt": "\"Jesus christ you are hard to chase down. Im low on gas, low on food and still havent made my rescue quota. Get in!\" She said with english laced with some eastern european accent.\n\n\"You think you are really going to kill me\" Jack said pointing his pistol at her\n\n\"Kill you? Why would I kill you? Get in the before they come back you dumbass. I have air con...and beer.\" The female vampire said \n\n\"Isn't that what Vampires do?\" He asked as he got. Yeah was probably dead soon anyway either way.  He grabbed the \"beer\" and opened the bottle and drank....BEER?!?\n\n\"This really isnt bad\" He said\n\n\"If I wanted to kill you why bring the beer with me. You can shear a sheep many times but you can only skin them once. You work with us and as you Americans used to say \"You get 3 hots and a cot\"\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has an interesting premise, and I like the idea of a vampire trying to recruit a human. However, there are a few things you can do to improve your prose. First, watch your grammar and punctuation. There are a few errors in your story that can be easily corrected. Second, try to add more description to your story. Describe the setting, the characters, and the action in more detail. This will help your readers to visualize what is happening in the story. Finally, try to vary your sentence structure. Using a variety of sentence lengths will make your story more interesting to read."}
{"prompt": "I can still remember a time when things where normal. I try not to think about it too much. Reminice and pine over what once was. It will only make me miserable, I know.\nBut they are still there. Taunting me with dreams of my freedom and blissful ignorance before the outbreak. A time when we weren\u2019t confined to fenced off neighborhoods. When we didnt have to worry about our children getting too curious, wandering beyond this bubble of safety the vampires have corralled us into. \nLife goes on, and there is a false sense of freedom everyone has adopted. There are still schools, supermarkets, bowling alleys, arcades. But its not real, it\u2019s an illusion of freedom that we have come to know as normalcy.\n\nGod its bizzare saying it. Vampires. Things once of myth, and a source of fear to the skeptics and us children. Skeptics before, I guess I can\u2019t call them that now considering the circumstances. They had been right, of course. The things had craweld out of the shadows and into the light once the rotten bastards appeared, and they realized their food sorce was in danger. Posed themselves as saviors of humanity, offered help in the form of protection against the Zombies. At a price, of course. They have their pick. You see them in the streets, now emboldened by the new power they posess over us. Not all are bad, but like everything in life they have their rotten apples.\n\nIm well past my prime years now, they don\u2019t spare me a glance. I\u2019ve been alive to long in my opinion. Expired food, years have gone by since my sell by date. My children and grandchildren, I have to watch be occasionally called upon to be someones dinner. In the end, no one dies of course. But it\u2019s the conditioned fear from years of stories of monsters that never go away. Occasional stories of the rotten ones going to far. Theres always a sense of anxiety in the back of your head, no matter the reasurances the higher ups throw at us. Will they come back safe? The answer so far has been yes.\n\nI know I shouldn\u2019t complain. For the most part we are safe. The zombies are no more than mere flies to the vampires. Need only be swatted away with a hand, when a human might need backup to kill just one. Resilient things, I\u2019ll give them that much. But I can never seem to get rid of a lingering resentment for how things turned out, unjustified as it may be.\n\nWhile they are just stupid brutes, the zombies have for the most part learend to stay away from these havens set up around the world. Choose instead to go for the stragglers who refuse to be protected, and live in the deadzones as we call it. Original name, I know. Occasionally we get one bolder or maybe just hungrier then the rest wandering in, but it is swiftly handled. The vampires can smell the pungent smell of rotting flesh and death infultrate their sweet circle of perfumed bloodbags from miles away. We are safe. That\u2019s all that should matter.\nLooking out the window of my small house on a street of identical buildings, seeing children being able to run around the streets laughing and playing. Unaware truely of their situation, wonderfully innocent. This gives a feeling of peace. Fleeting happiness before thoughts begin to re-emerge from the back of my head and spiral. Soon, I will be gone from this world. I know it is my time soon, and I will no longer have to needlessly worry about things I should not logically be worried about. I will leave behind my family, and life will move on. Grandchildren will grow up and have children of their own. I wont know how the world will progress, what will happen years from now. \n\nSo I try to forget. I try to become one of those children kicking a ball in the street. To become innocent and ignorant again. Loose myself in their aimless chittering and laughter. Sink into their bright little smiles. And when it is night time, I lay awake knowing that childhood dreams turned nightmares of the day the world turns wait to torment me.\nThe day starts again, and all I can think is it is one day closer to the peace of an endless sleep. But for now, I will sit here and look out this little window in this little room, and I will wait.\n\nSorry I\u2019m a bit tired and havent written in years but it was fun, thanks for reading if you made it this far :)\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your opening paragraph is intriguing and effectively sets the stage for the story. You have a good grasp of description and your use of sensory language is evocative. However, there are a few awkward phrases and choppy sentences. For example, \"I try not to think about it too much. Reminice and pine over what once was.\" could be rewritten as \"I try not to think about it too much, or reminiscence and pine over what once was.\"\n\nIn general, watch out for choppy sentences and awkward phrasing. Read your work aloud to catch these errors. Also, make sure you are varying your sentence structure - mix up long and short sentences, and use a variety of sentence types (simple, compound, complex, etc.). Varying your sentence structure will make your writing more interesting and easier to read.\n\nYou have a good handle on tone and atmosphere. Your descriptions are vivid and help to create a clear picture of the world your characters inhabit. You also effectively use dialogue to further the plot and develop your characters.\n\nOverall, you have written a compelling story with interesting characters. There are a few areas that can be improved, but overall, you have done a great job. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "NRP - III or Nature's Reserved Park III\n\nKlint slowly read as he prepares for his 88th Tour.\n\n\"Man, this NRP is one of the oldest isn't it? Like 30 Million Humans are living on it right now.\" Klint told to Hughes\n\n\"Yeah, but that was 2 years ago. Right now, almost a quarter of it exist as there was an outbreak. A zombie mutated thrice near the border and successfully destroyed its wall unleashing a massive amount of other double mutated zombies and normal zombies. All units were lost, even the high and mighty Night Vampires and Dark Werewolves special forces were wiped because of the sudden influx.\" Hughes replied back coldly to Klint.\n\n\"Yeah, that was the news. What really happened? Special forces have the power to one hit kill highly mutated zombies?\" Klint replied.\n\n\"Humor is that this triple mutated zombie is a Wood Elf Zombie. Very nimble and very fast. Like pure speed monstrosity and this zombie is a survivor from the first Earth out break. I don't how did it survived that long and how they didn't found it right away.\"  Hughes explained as he tuck himself to their transportation.\n\n\"Man, so it is still there?\" Klint asked with fear.\n\n\"Nay, they did managed to kill it but they paid a huge price. Remember General Fyr? He died battling that zombie. With other 3 Majors and 10 Lieutenants. All from Orcs Division.\" Hughes explained to Klint.\n\n\"So right now, Us, Twilight Vampires, are set to clean the remaining infected NRP and let the humans repopulate it again. Man, Those Ancient geezers are really up to something. I thought NRP - VI and VIII are already enough to supply us with a steady flow of blood and NRP - III will remain at is it?\" Klint replied to Hughes.\n\n\"Listen, Klint, 3/4 of NRP is a lost cause. What we will do is clean up that 3/4 and burn the bodies of other Grimms that died deep on the breached wall. Anytime soon, those dead bodies will turn into Zombies. Remember the Night Vampires and Dark Werewolves special forces? Higher ups predicted that in 2 or 3 months they will turn into Zombies. If we let that happens, NRP-III will be history. Give more time, NRP - XX isn't far away, it could be the next ruin. I just don't know why they don't just bring out the cleaners.\" Hughes told Klint.\n\n\"Cleaners are busy with other important thing. Twilight Vampires are on par with Shadow Moon Werewolves which are Elites. Klint, you're already stronger than a General and Hughes you're an elite general. Now, gents, what you see below is the ruined part of NRP - III. Can you see our reconnaissance team over there? We will move from there to the breached wall. The bodies of Night Vampires and Dark Werewolves special forces aren't scattered vastly so we can burn them right away and start cleaning the rest afterwards.\" Polaxe told them.\n\nWhile landing, there was an abrupt commotion happening at the outpost.\n\n\"Fuck, a zombie Night Vampire.\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " First, I want to commend you on your use of description and setting. It is very clear what is happening and where it is happening. You have done a great job of creating a vivid picture for the reader.\n\nHowever, there are a couple of areas where your prose could be improved. First, your dialogue is often stiff and unnatural. Your characters sound like they are reciting lines from a script, rather than having a conversation. Second, your sentence structure is often choppy and unclear. This makes your prose difficult to read and understand.\n\nI suggest that you work on making your dialogue more natural and your sentence structure more clear. These two changes will make a big difference in the quality of your writing."}
{"prompt": "\"Aaaaaaaaaaargh,\" \n\nscreamed Sharon, jumping backwards over the side of the bed. \n\n\"What the *hell* is going on?\"\n\n\"Calm down, Mummy! This is my new friend, Mr. Johnson,\" said Sara.\n\nThe tall and muscular figure who looked eerily similar to *The Rock* took a breath, and started talking. \n\n\"Sorry to intrude here, Mrs. Brennan.\" -- That voice, Sharon thought. It's really him! -- \"Believe me when I say, the surprise is mutual,\" said Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson, who was wearing pyjamas with blue elephants on top, yellow giraffes on the bottom.\n\nA few moments of contemplative silence passed. From behind the bed: \"That's really The Rock in my house right now?\"\n\n\"It is it is it is,\" cried Sara, gleefully. \"I wished for a pet rock from Santa in the mall, and I got the best one of them all!\"\n\nSharon raised her messy hair and bewildered face into view, for a sceptical look. \"Fucking hell,\" she gasped. Dwayne Fucking Johnson was standing *right there.*\n\n\"Hey, no swearing,\" Sara snapped.\n\n\"Look, it's Christmas day, and I'm really not meant to be here. So, Sara, it's been real meeting you, but I won't be able to stay for the tea party.\"\n\n\"But you said you would!\"\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson said, not lying. \"Trust me, if I didn't have my own family to get back to, Fuzzy Bear and Malibu Barbie and I would be teapotting it up all afternoon with you.\"\n\nSharon looked on, vague, wondering if she was still drunk and stoned from the dinner party the night before. Had there been LSD going around? She was beginning to hope so.\n\nSara looked away, and started to cry. \"Now now, don't cry. Any girl able to summon *The Rock* out of thin air must be really, really strong,\" he said. \"Are you strong, Sara?\"\n\nShe wiped the tears from her eyes, and nodded her head. \"There it is. I think you might be the strongest girl in the whole neighbourhood!\"\n\n\"You really think so?\"\n\n\"No doubt about it. And no-one knows these things better than I do.\"\n\nSara smiled big and bright and ran over and hugged his leg. \"Isn't that right, Mrs. Brennan?\"\n\nSharon was too mystified by what she was observing to respond. \"Mrs. Brennan, isn't that right?\"\n\n\"What? Oh, yes. Of course. Mr. Johnson would know.\"\n\n\"Yay!\"\n\nDwayne 'The Rock' Johnson gave them both his widest Hollywood smile, and Sharon found her confusion subsiding into instincts of a very different nature. My word he's handsome, she thought.\n\n\"Could I please use your phone? Had better explain to the wife where I am.\"\n\n\"Sure, down the hall on the wall next to the fridge.\"\n\n\"Great, thanks.\"\n\nSharon gathered herself and put her dressing gown on and picked Sara up. \"Well, missy. This'll be a Christmas we won't forget, that's for sure.\"\n\nDwayne 'The Rock' Johnson was still on the phone when they walked into the kitchen. He spoke quietly, but Sharon could tell something was wrong.\n\n\"Mummy, is Mr. Johnson okay?\"\n\n\"I don't know, honey. Let's give him some space to finish his call.\"\n\nDwayne 'The Rock' Johnson followed them to the loungeroom a few minutes later, as a different man than before. His towering frame slumped, crestfallen, eyes wet with tears, looking as if about to make some kind of plea.\n\n\"Well, ladies. Looks like the situation is stranger than I thought,\" he said.\n\n\"What's the matter, Mr. Johnson?\" Sara asked, with profound concern.\n\n\"Turns out I never left home, after all. My wife says I'm still sleeping in bed.\"\n\nIt was then, finally, that Sharon realised they were playing witness to the most insane Christmas miracle, surely, in history. Stranger than fiction, a singular cataclysm in humanity's understanding of science and physics and anything that Neil deGrasse Tyson from *Cosmos* had to say.\n\nSara, on the other hand, was thrilled. So much so that she was struggling to contain herself in spite her Christmas wish's emotional state. Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson looked down, and, seeing how happy she was, managed a smile.\n\n\"Well, Miss Sara, howabout that tea party?\"\n\n~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~\n\nr/wordsofbrennan\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are some areas that could use improvement. For example, your use of dialogue could be more natural and effective. In addition, your descriptions could be more vivid and interesting. Overall, though, you have a strong story with an intriguing plot."}
{"prompt": "I rubbed my eyes, and although I recognized him, something was off. His smile, too perfect, like it was copied from a promotional poster. His eyes, too bright. Tan, too dark. And there was a smell\u2026something like old water and fish and the woods.\n  \n\n  \n\"What's that odor?\"\n  \n\n  \n\"It's what I'm cooking\u2026\" the 'Rock' replied. His voice was off.\n  \n\n  \n\"What's it going to take to finish?\"\n  \n\n  \nHe looked at me, then away as if shamed. \"About tree-fiddy.\"\n  \n\n  \nI realized what was wrong. He was actually 8 stories tall and from the Paleolithic era!\n  \n\n  \n\"Baby that is not The Rock. That is that got dang Loch Ness Monster trying to get tree fiddy from you.\" I said to her. I shouted at it \"Get out of here Loch Ness I am not giving you no tree fiddy!\"\n  \n\n  \nMy daughter was crushed. She had wanted that pet Rock so badly\u2026\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The beginning of your story is confusing. It's not entirely clear who the protagonist is or what is happening. Try to be more specific and clear in your descriptions.\n\nYour use of dialogue is good, but there are some errors. Make sure to use proper grammar and punctuation when writing dialogue.\n\nThe ending of your story is good, but it feels abrupt. Try to tie up loose ends and give the reader a sense of closure."}
{"prompt": "The Rock Initiative\n\n\"Mummy, mummy, look!\" Katie was gently tugging at her mother\u2019s hair trying to rouse her.\n\n\u201cWhat the heck.\u201d For a moment, Jannette thought her daughter must have turned on the TV in her bedroom. Then she shifted backwards slightly in her bed at the sight of a familiar stranger looming over her.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry to startle you ma\u2019am.\u201d Dwayne \u2018The Rock\u2019 Johnson was somehow even more charismatic in real life.\n\nBewilderment and intrigue and began to wash over Jannette as she shook off the haze of waking up. Her cheeks began to flush a little too, but she quickly brushed aside those feelings in favour of getting to the bottom of things. \n\n\u201cWhat are you doing here? I mean how did you get in and\u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cThe most direct answer is that your daughter summoned me,\u201d Dwayne replied.\n\nJannette could only manage a perplexed stare.\n\n\u201cThis will take some explanation if you wouldn\u2019t mind talking over breakfast. We can go out to a caf\u00e9 if you\u2019re not comfortable with me staying here.\u201d The Rock was characteristically calm and exuded trustworthiness.\n\nJannette took and a deep breath, sat up and said, \u201cno that\u2019s OK, let me whip up some eggs\u201d. \n\n\u201cKatie, help Mum set the table please.\u201d They all took their places.\n\n\u201cThank you Janette, these eggs look amazing ,\u201d Dwayne scooped up a generous mouthful.\n\n\u201cNow what I\u2019m about to talk you through is going to seem absurd. I will provide evidence but I\u2019m asking you to bear with and trust me for now. You have an important part to play too Katie so please pay attention,\u201d he addressed the child cheerfully.\n\n\u201cAnd before you ask, no this isn\u2019t a hidden camera show!\u201d he chuckled.\n\n\u201cAlright then, go ahead,\u201d Jannette sounded more than a little dubious.\n\n\u201cI need to tell you about The Rock Initiative. You see, my species first became aware of yours around 150 years ago. We\u2019re from the oort cloud \u2013 a huge mass of rocks orbiting the sun way further away from even the furthest planet, I know it used to Pluto for you guys.\u201d\n\nAlright, this is clearly some sort of research or market testing for a new script, Jannette thought. But still had no idea why The Rock would be visiting her in small-town America for such an exercise.\n\u201cOur life originated in an entirely different way to yours \u2013 that\u2019s not so important now. We gained intelligence and eventually started exploring our solar neighbourhood in much the same way you did. \n\n\u201cOur scientists first glimpsed the inner planets around 300 years ago. We noticed Earth not long after and it was clear that your planet harboured advanced life. The low gravity of our home worlds meant we were able to start voyages inwards with relative ease. There were some that wanted to make contact with you as soon as possible, however caution prevailed and we decided to carry out reconnaissance to learn more.\u201d\n\n\u201cMuuum I\u2019m bored,\u201d Katie groaned. \u201cI know honey, but let\u2019s be patient and let Mr Johnson finish what he\u2019s saying.\u201d This wasn\u2019t quite blockbuster scifi so far, but she was engaged enough and wanted to hear more.\n\n\u201cThank you, we\u2019re getting to some exciting parts soon I promise,\u201d Dwayne settled back into his explanation.\n\n\u201cI was part of the first expedition to Earth. It so happens that we easily fit in with your surroundings, given we look just like rocks. We also live much longer than you, so hundred-year missions aren\u2019t a problem. We took up positions all around major cities in your year 1905. Observing and learning about humans was indescribable. You probably have no idea how amazing you all are.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m amazing!\u201d Katie happily agreed.\n\n\u201cBut then there were some events that deeply troubled us. I won\u2019t go into detail in front of Katie, but you know that the first half of last century was not a great time for humanity\u2026\u201d Dwayne\u2019s air of happiness receded and he paused reflectively. \n\n\u201cYes, I can only imagine what you must have thought if that was your first impression of us,\u201d Jannette replied. Am I really buying into this nonsense? She thought.\n\n\u201cWe sent reports back to our homeworlds. There was a strong push to abandon our mission completely and a feeling that we\u2019d best off if Humans never learned about us at all. While it was hard to disagree, I reasoned that there was no harm in continuing reconnaissance. At the very least, learning more could be handy if you were to ever discover us in the future. \n\n\u201cSo we stuck around through your 1950\u2019s and 1960\u2019s and kept sending back reports. Our view of your species started to shift. There was clearly a lot more to you than conflict and misery. But we remained shaken by what we had seen and making contact still seemed too risky.\n\n\u201cWe needed to learn more and set a better stage before the majority would be comfortable starting an interspecies exchange. \n\n\u201cOur scientists developed a kind of \u2018human suit\u2019 for us to really get to know you. They could never get the eyebrows quite right though \u2013 ours have a much higher range of movement. Luckily people seem to like that,\u201d Dwayne turned toward Katie and did his signature eyebrow raise. She giggled in delight.\n\n\u201cAlright Dwayne, this is a fun story that might even make for a decent movie. But we need to get ready for Christmas lunch with the rest of the family,\u201d Jannette started to clear away the table. \n\n\u201cFair enough and thank you for your time so far. You might want to skip soccer practice though, after you see this.\u201d Dwayne knelt down and placed a hand on Katie\u2019s shoulder.  \u201cThis is going to be scary, but I promise you don\u2019t need to worry.\u201d \n\n\u201cOK, but it better be good if you want me to miss out on more present time,\u201d she replied.\n\nDwayne stood perfectly upright, his eyes glazed over and he touched the inside of his wrist. His torso began to pivot at the hip, while his legs remained in place. It stopped where his upper body was separated 90\u2019s degrees from his lower half. Katie screamed and ran behind her mother. \n\nDwayne\u2019s hand beckoned Jannette closer. She overcame repulsion and stepped forward. Rather than blood and guts, a small smooth stone sat in a cavity above Dwayne\u2019s pelvis. The stone started to vibrate and then flipped over in place a couple of times. With a wrist movement, his \u2018suit\u2019 started to shift back into regular human form. \n\nLife flickered back into Dwayne\u2019s eyes. \u201cPhew, it\u2019s been a long while since I\u2019ve been able to feel air on my skin\u2026 my real skin. Sorry to startle you, was that proof enough?\u201d \n\nJannette and Katie had moved several paces away.\n\n\u201cAlright alright we believe you. But then why on Earth are you here in my house and not meeting with world leaders?\u201d Jannette\u2019s head was swimming. Surely she would wake up any moment from this bizarre dream.\n\n\u201cAround 50s years ago my team started the pet rock craze. Most of us thought it would never take off \u2013 after all, why would you want to keep a rock for a pet? But if it worked, it would give us a way to get humans used to the idea of rocks as friends. To our surprise, households all across the world started adopting us. We didn\u2019t even mind the stick-on googly eyes. \n\n\u201cNow all we needed was a trusted and well know ambassador. That\u2019s where The Rock initiative started. I was given a new human suit with instructions and a plan to become a well trusted, or at least well-known celebrity. \n\n\u201cWe chose professional wrestling as a starting point \u2013 it was easy to design a tall suit with an impressive physique. While it seemed a bit obvious picking \u2018The Rock\u2019 for a wrestling name, I figured it would make for a fun reveal if the plan ever got to its final stages. My success in Hollywood was a massive bonus and helped get us to the point we\u2019re at today\u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cOK I guess that makes some kind of sense, in a nonsense way. But that doesn\u2019t explain where we fit into this.\u201d Jannette had relaxed a little and they took their spots back at the table.\n\nDwayne took a deep breath. \u201cWhat we really need is acceptance and understanding and we think Katie can help us with this.\u201d Katie was still cautiously clinging to Jannette. He again addressed her directly \u201cKatie, do you remember the message you sent to our website asking for a pet rock?\u201d \n\nKatie sheepishly looked up at her mother, as if asking for permission to respond. \u201cIt\u2019s OK baby girl, let him know what you sent.\u201d \n\n\u201cWell, Mr Rock uhhmm.\u201d Katie stammered then gained more confidence as Dwayne smiled warmly at her. \u201cI wrote could I please please have a pet rock from Santa because rocks are great and they deserve our love just like doggies and kitties.\u201d \n\n\u201cThat\u2019s right Katie, that\u2019s what brought me here to ask: will you please help me explain to everyone that pet rocks \u2013 here on earth and out in space \u2013 need human love and understanding? It would really mean a lot to all of us.\u201d\n\n\u201cUmmm OK Mr Rock,\u201d Katie looked up at Dwayne excitedly, \u201chow can I help?\u201d\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " First, I want to commend you for your strong opening. The Rock's sudden appearance in the protagonist's bedroom is definitely a hook that will keep readers engaged. I also like the way you introduced the concept of The Rock Initiative gradually, through Dwayne's explanation. This allows readers to slowly get invested in the story, rather than being overwhelmed with information all at once.\n\nThat said, there are a few areas where your story could be improved. First, there is a lot of exposition in the beginning of the story. You could try to find a way to introduce the concept of The Rock Initiative more organically, perhaps through dialogue or action. Additionally, the dialogue in the story feels a bit stiff and unnatural. I would recommend reading your dialogue out loud to see if it sounds natural or if it needs to be rewritten.\n\nOverall, this is a strong start to a story. With a few revisions, it has the potential to be even better."}
{"prompt": "\"Don't sign the form\".\n\nThis did not surprise me. Since I've been 7 years old I've been receiving these messages.\n\n\"Don't chase Jimmy\" was the first. It was my birthday party, and I had received a bright red, toy car. I instantly fell in love with it's shiny coat and slick design. On the card read the usual message of my parents, wishing me happy birthday, and how much they loved me. But underneath, in red marker was, \"Don't chase Jimmy\". I was confused, but decided the toy car was more interesting than the strange message. Then my cousin Jimmy grabbed the car with glee in his eyes, spit on my shirt and ran. I almost ran after him, then jerked back, remembering the message. At the time I didn't know why I remembered it or even decided to heed its warning. At the time, I didn't realize how much I would learn to trust this voice, that the voice knew I would have no choice but to listen. I watched as Jimmy ran across the street in the middle of the road and be struck by a large truck, the toy car's pieces scattered, no more.\n\nThe messages followed, mysteriously. I never could catch who wrote them, but I soon learned this person, or being, knew my life intimately. They knew who my crushes were, my fears, desires, and even my thoughts. More importantly, it knew my future. \"Don't pursue Rebecca\". My crush at the time, but I listened. A week later I learned she had secretly been a lesbian. Some messages were commands. \"Talk to Mr. Latham\". He was my 7th grade biology teacher and after speaking with him, I found I developed a new found love for science. Perhaps it was his encouragement, or maybe even my enthusiasm born from reaching out, but I had become an A student in he class. In fact, I was the best student. I wasn't sure what the implications of this would be for the future, but I had learned many of the warnings and commands had far reaching consequences.\n\nThe future. It seemed almost predetermined for me. I felt lucky, incredibly charmed, that I had a secret informant. I've often tried to find ways to communicate with my benefactor. I would go out in the predawn hours, visit crossroads and graveyards, whispering, \"are you there? Who are you?\" I would plan for potential messages, spying on birthday cards, graded tests, letters. But the mysterious informant was always ten steps ahead of me. I never spoke of this to anyone, because I was afraid it might stop. I was afraid I would never have this help again.\n\nSo when I became 14, I was expectantly very excited. This was the time when one was given their powers by the Donarius Imperium. A vast, super-computer being created in the 70's. It had solved all of humanity's problems, such as disease, food waste, and war. Now, we have healthy conflict, nutritional exposure, and human cropping. All this has been possible due to the D.I.'s gifts - powers granted to humans when they turn 14. We are then drafted into our new roles and trained. I'm not sure why I never suspected the D.I. for sending me the messages. It probably had to do with the messages always being hand-written.\n\nBut after I had been given the edible tablet that would transform me, after I had been given the report, did I finally realize who had been writing me. I don't know why it took this long to realize, but it had been obvious from the start. The writing was unmistakable, but too strange to even comprehend. The writing was my own.\n\n&amp;#x200B;\n\n\"Don't sign the form\". Within the packet was the form asking if I would like to join the Peace Division. I had always wanted to be a part of the healthy conflict sector, to do away from those who would threaten our peaceful society. But the voice had spoken, I had spoken. And they have never once, in 7 years, been wrong. I took the form and then placed it into the shredder, waiting for the consequences to follow, as they always do, like dominoes.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story is well-plotted and engaging. I particularly liked the mystery of the unknown benefactor and the reveal at the end. However, there are a few areas where your writing could be improved.\n\nFirstly, your story is told in a very straightforward manner. There is nothing wrong with this, but it does make the story feel a little flat. Try to add more description and sensory detail to bring the reader into the world you have created.\n\nSecondly, your dialogue could be improved. At the moment, it feels stilted and unnatural. Work on making your dialogue sound more like the way people actually speak.\n\nOverall, you have written a solid story with an intriguing plot. With a few tweaks, it could be even better."}
{"prompt": "[1/2]\n\nMy dad handled my **Instructions** in the same way he had always handled everything in his life. With absolutely zero nuance, and without asking a single follow-up question. \n\n\nIt wasn\u2019t his fault. Dad had told me many times that the only way things didn\u2019t go absolutely downhill for him in life was when he followed the rules without any questions or overthinking. Which was probably a good thing in his case, otherwise he would\u2019ve ended all life on earth with his powers of molten nuclear destruction.\n \n\nBut my dad carried the manual with his **Instructions** always in his pocket. It\u2019s as thick as a phonebook, and he\u2019s been thumbing through that thing for as long as I could remember.  The pages had long since become worn and wrinkled from constant use. He knows all of it by heart - every letter, every line, every stipulation, safety measure and footnote. I\u2019m pretty sure he even has the table of contents memorized. \n\n\nWhich is why it was a little bit insulting, when he decided that the best way for me to memorize my own **Instructions** - a four word sentence, keep in mind - is for him to make me a bracelet with the phrase to wear on my wrist for as long as I live. \n\n\n\u201cJust humor him, darling.\u201d my other dad said to me, granting me a rare bowl of afternoon ice-cream along with a fond smile. The ceramic felt extra frosty from his icy touch, \u201cYou know how he worries.\u201d\n\n\nI did know. I did understand. I understood even better with the Owl sitting next to me. It was a manifestation of wisdom, I later found out, which I\u2019d created without even trying. I was more insightful while it existed, and it helped me understand the world with the acumen unbefitting a confused fourteen year old with knobby knees and awkward elbows. \n\nI\u2019m not sure why the Owl was the first thing I made. I was just angry and confused - already upset by the lack of instructions regarding my powers, and now also insulted by my brilliant father\u2019s lack of trust - and the Owl showed up, as though to help me understand. \n\nThat\u2019s why, even though I hated it with all my heart, I accepted the bracelet when dad emerged from his workshop. I put it on my wrist without complaining and stared miserably at the four words I was supposed to live by:\n\nDon\u2019t heed the Cat.\n\nI looked at the Owl next to me - owls were kind of like bird-cats. But it just blinked back at me with huge, round eyes.  \n\nAnd so began my life with my Animal Guides. \n\nThe Cat didn\u2019t show up for a long time. I waited for it every day, knowing that it would probably pop up the same way all the others did - when the situation demanded it, or I was in desperate need of its abilities. \n\nThat\u2019s how it went with the others, at least. I didn\u2019t have clear instructions on what to do, like most people, so everything played out through instinct and gut-feelings. \n\nI won my first school race with the Cheetah running by my side. I aced every test with the Owl on my shoulder. I stood up to my childhood bully with the Lion looming at my back. When I was with my friends, the goofy little Monkey would clamber things near me, making me feel giddy and making it easier for everyone to like me. And when I was feeling sad, the Dog would plant its scruffy head in my lap and look at me with big, soulful eyes, offering unconditional love and understanding. The Dog made me emotionally robust and helped me handle loneliness.  \n\nNobody could see my animals, so it was a little bit like cheating my way through life. My dads tried to discourage me from using them too much, but eventually they gave up. It\u2019s not like I had much control over when they\u2019d show up, and other kids my age liberally used their power wherever they could. \n\nIt all went along somehow, and became a normal part of my life, but I always kept wondering about the Cat. \n\nWhat was it for? When could I need it? What could it give me, and why was it forbidden? \n\nI got the answer on the day of my 21st birthday. \n\nIt probably wasn\u2019t an accident that my regular assessment was on that day. I showed up at my counselor\u2019s office bright and early and planted myself into the plastic chair by her desk. The Lion sprawled on the floor next to me, shrinking the space of the tiny office even more. \n\n\u201cGood morning, Liam.\u201d Mrs. Peterson was deeply focused on my file, like always, \u201cWhich one is joining us for this meeting?\u201d \n\n\u201cThe Lion.\u201d I replied. It had never occurred to me to even try to hide it, even though I hated the way she narrowed her eyes at me.  \n\n\u201cOh? Are you nervous?\u201d Mrs. Peterson was smug, like she cracked some kind of complicated code. \n\n\u201cNo.\u201d it came out defensive. I didn\u2019t want it to. But it was like that thing where you see a police car and try not to act suspicious, even though you\u2019ve done nothing wrong. \n\n\u201cThen why the Lion?\u201d \n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know, why so nosy?\u201d is what went through my head, but what I blurted out was sadly the truth, \u201cI\u2019m actually going to ask someone out today. I\u2019ve liked them for a long time, so I guess I needed the courage.\u201d \n\n\u201cOh.\u201d Mrs. Peterson\u2019s entire face shriveled in disgust at something as plain as normal human interactions. She sniffed and click-clacked something down at her laptop, \u201cHas everything been normal since our last meeting?\u201d \n\n\u201cYes.\u201d \n\n\u201cNo sign of the Cat?\u201d \n\n\u201cNo, no Cat.\u201d \n\nClickity-clacking continued, less enthusiastic, for a minute. She finished and finally looked up at me and her face did a thing. \n\nHoly shit, what is that? \n\n\u201cNow, Liam,\u201d Mrs. Peterson said, as I came to a reeling realization that she was smiling. It was the most horrible leathery smile I\u2019ve ever seen, \u201cyou\u2019re at that age when you should start considering your future.\u201d \n\n\u201cYeah.\u201d I said, staring at her teeth, \u201cI mean- yes. I don\u2019t know if college is for me, but-\u201d \n\n\u201cWe here at J\u00f6tunn Corp. feel that you would be an excellent addition to our executive offices.\u201d Mrs. Peterson\u2019s teeth said, \u201cYou\u2019ve got very unique, adaptable abilities that could be really polished into a shining diamond in our care.\u201d \n\n\u201cThey\u2026could?\u201d \n\n\u201cOf course! We know you\u2019ve been using your Enhancers as crutches to get by in everyday life - and there\u2019s nothing wrong with that.\u201d she said, a bit too quickly not to be rehearsed, \u201cBut imagine if you trained? Imagine if you unlocked things you couldn\u2019t even dream of? What if you could have a Bear give you incredible strength? Imagine if you had a Hawk that could make you fly!\u201d \n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know about flying, I\u2019m not good with heights.\u201d \n\n\u201cThat\u2019s beside the point, Liam.\u201d her tone turned razor-sharp within an instant. She stabbed a blue flier in my direction. The surface was a deep indigo, with an emblem in the corner depicting three white birds taking flight, \u201cDon\u2019t let your gift waste away. You could do great things with us.\u201d \n\n\u201cYou should totally knock that ugly mug off her desk.\u201d said something small and black, perched on the arm of my chair. \n\nI looked down at the ugliest yellow mug I\u2019d ever seen in my life. My hand moved without my input and I swung hard, slapping the atrocity off the desk and onto the tiled floor.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are a few things you could work on to make it even better. First, watch your sentence structure. Sometimes your sentences are choppy and difficult to read. Second, try to be more concise with your words. Sometimes you use too many words when one or two would suffice. Third, watch your point of view. You sometimes slip into second person point of view, which can be confusing for readers. Overall, though, you have a great story with interesting characters and a unique premise. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "Flashing in front of his eyes was perhaps the most broken of powers. \n\nIn the year 2200 humanity awoke their planetary core, a phenomena which took the dreams and thoughts of its inhabitants to turn into attributable powers. To maintain balance, all powers had certain restriction. Super speed and flight burnt proportionate levels of calories accounting for distance and speed. Super strength was stored strength which required days of weakness to have minutes of combined strength.\nAmong them all, powers which came with restriction predetermined were the strongest. For they weren\u2019t restricted by the laws of the core but limitations imposed by humanity. \n\nToday, a mythical power was awoken.\n\nThe only instruction given being:\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t touch the snail\u201d.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are a few areas that need improvement. First, your opening sentence is confusing and unclear. What does it mean that the protagonist's power is \"perhaps the most broken of powers\"? This needs to be clarified.\n\nNext, your story jumps around a bit too much. You introduce the concept of the planetary core, and then suddenly jump to the year 2200. It would be helpful to provide some more connective tissue between these ideas.\n\nFinally, your ending is abrupt and unsatisfying. What is the point of the story? What does the reader learn from it? These are important questions that need to be addressed.\n\nOverall, there is a lot of potential in this story, but it needs to be more clearly developed. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "When I was turning 14 my Father passed away. I've asked my Mother how he died so many times, but she only tells me he was a brave man. Trying the best I can on nights like these, dark, raining, flashes of lightning illuminating silhouettes, I still can't remember that night. \n\nEveryone knows the night before your 14th birthday you get your set of instructions to be able to use your powers. They are long dreary rules and habits that you must follow to have your powers. It also doesn't help they're written in lawyer speech, like terms and services, also commanding pages upon pages of these terms to follow. Lastly, they're like volunteer work. Always good natured and sometimes making you go out of your way to fulfill them.\n\nThis has coined their names as Saints, but largely they're made fun of because the powers they grant are seemingly useless. Such as, others can't speak when you are, while you're reading you won't walk into anything; Strange but absolute powers while you're doing a task.\n\nNow, while thunder peels back the silence of the night, I'm reminded of my theory that someone had to pay a cost to give a  message to certain people. If you didn't want to give powers to the wrong people, but also weren't allowed to only give it to select people, you'd make the rules ridiculous, long, and tedious, so only those who truly strove for them could use them.\n\nBut I've always found that short, punctual messages made more of an impact. Single words can hold such power, depending on the context. Kill, Run, Catch Them, Survive. They hold so much more meaning when they're not covered in so many words.\n\nNow, I'm 30, balding, and work as a night guard at a children's home. I'm also a Saint, but I laugh when people joke about all the things I must do. Because after my dad died, I've had my powers everyday. When I shut something, only I can open it.\n\nAs I look out a 2nd story window, I see him there tonight as well. Asking in his voice, with his image, if he could see the kids and congratulate them on what they'll have. He's with so many others, looking in the window I shut hours prior to this. I've always wanted to see my dad again, but not like this. When the lightning flashes, the silhouettes have horns and wings.\n\nSomeone had to be sending me a message, and I will follow these words until I die.\n\nDon't let Them in.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are a few areas that could use some improvement. First, your opening sentence is a bit choppy and could be revised for clarity. Additionally, your use of description is sometimes helpful but at other times it feels like you are trying too hard to be poetic and it takes away from the story. Lastly, your dialogue could be more natural and less stilted. Overall, there is a lot of potential in your story and with some revision it could be truly excellent."}
{"prompt": "Coming of age was meant to be exciting, joyous. At fourteen, we are given our purpose. Abilities unique to each one of us, granted by the collective intelligence.\n\nMy sister became able to sense the inner workings of any device she touched, and with this she wowed the academy of military mechanics. My cousin gained a perfect photographic memory, with which he excelled in school. Eventually his skills took him into the colonial forces, far away among the stars. \nMy mother was given the humble gift of mending injuries, which she honed into a skill with surgery.\n\nI still remember the moment I recieved my message, surrounded by my family, my heart pounding with excitement. I still remember the icy feeling that ran down my spine as I read its contents.\n\n\"Dont look at them\"\n\nThe words burned themselves into my mind. The sensation spread to my eyes, fixed to the screen as I felt myself change.\nI sat frozen, confused and afraid. My mother stood up from across the table, words of concern forming on her lips. The sudden movement in my field of vision caused my eyes to glance at her momentarily. I understood then.\n\nIn that moment I knew her completely. My eyes, without my control, tore into her. \n\nFirst her mind. Through my visual cortex swam every thought, every memory. I felt her love as she held me for the first time. I felt her joy and pride as she first used her gift to mend the wing of an injured bird. I felt her concern at my expression while reading my message, and felt that concern twist into primal fear when my eyes met hers.\n\nThen, her body. The web of her being was laid bare, every firing neuron, every twitch of muscle. Her structure down to the molecules became as clear and understandable to my eyes as words on a page. All was to be observed, understood, and deconstructed. My vision tore through her form cell by cell.\n\nIt all happened in an instant. I threw my hands over my eyes, desperately trying to avert my mistake, as a wave of heat washed over me from the spot where my mother had stood, seconds ago.\n\nMy head buried in my hands, in darkness. \nMy mind racing, breaking apart at the seams. I stayed in that darkness. As hours passed.\nAs the agents of the collective led me away so the cleanup crew could work. As they questioned me, their voices filled with awe and barely contained excitement. As I was examined, prodded and needled, shaped and molded.\n\nWhen I finally saw the light, my purpose was clear. I saw the wars I would win for them. I saw the planets that would fall. When my eyes opened again, I beheld the face of the colonial rebel and smiled. I felt his fear. I felt every treason, real or imagined. Every errant thought against the collective. I understood.\n\nMy smile widened, and heat washed over me.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening paragraph is very strong, it immediately introduces the concept of the story and gives the reader a sense of what is to come. The second paragraph is also well done, it gives concrete examples of the gifts that other members of the protagonist's family have received.\n\nHowever, the third paragraph feels a bit choppy and could be rewritten to flow more smoothly. Additionally, the end of the story feels rushed and could be expanded upon to provide more resolution.\n\nIn general, the story is well-written and engaging. The concept is unique and interesting. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "\"Don't know. Sorry dude.\"\n\nI stared at the words in confusion. Don't know? *Don't know?!?*\n\nThis had to be a prank. Surely I had a power, just like everyone else. There had been cases before when powers didn't manifest until a few years later, but they always came, eventually. And the letter *always* told you exactly what it was. Even for something as obscure as telekinesis that only works on cheese.\n\nLuckily, there was a system in place for unclear descriptions. I filled in the form, and soon they set up an appointment with the seeress who wrote my description. Standard stuff. \n\nAs I walked into the room, I heard the blaring hiphop from the speaker on her desk. Then I saw the seeress herself. She was covered in tattoos and piercings, wearing a definitely not office-appropriate outfit, and resting her feet on the desk.\n\n\"Hey. Figured you would come see me eventually.\", she said. \n\n\"Um... why are you...\" I sputtered out, staring at her.\n\n\"Oh, this? Because I like it, and they can't afford to fire me for it. I'm literally one in a million. They need me.\"\n\nThat... actually made a lot of sense. Seeresses were rare, and in high demand. \n\n\"So... what exactly is my power?\"\n\n\"Right... your power...\" she said, as she was starting to look a bit uncomfortable. \"Umm... is it okay if I tell you about mine first?\"\n\nI nodded. Was she trying to change the subject? Was I powerless after all?\n\n\"Well, I'm a seeress,\" she said, \"which means I can see the future. Specifically, I can see the future of someone's abilities. They show me pictures of 13-year-old kids, and I see images of them... doing things. Using their powers. I get ideas, too. Once I see enough to figure out exactly what their power is, I write the description and they send it off to them on their 14th birthday.\"\n\n\"So why did mine say 'don't know, sorry dude'?\"\n\n\"Because I don't know what your power is. It's weird for me too.\"\n\n\"Could it be... that I'm powerless?\"\n\n\"No. Definitely not. You can do *something*. I just can't figure out what.\"\n\n\"Did you actually *see* future me do anything?\"\n\n\"That's the weird part. I saw everything and nothing. I saw you both fail and succeed at using every single power I've ever seen, and several others I haven't. You have all powers, and you have no powers. It doesn't make any sense.\"\n\n\"So what you're saying is I could either be powerless or more powerful than anyone else?\"\n\nI felt like a weight had lifted off my body. I had powers. A lot of them. I just had to figure out how they worked.\n\n\"No, it has to be both somehow. Dude... you're floating.\"\n\nI suddenly snapped back to reality. It was true. I was floating near the ceiling. Since when was I able to levitate?\n\nJust as I thought that, I fell down again. Apparently I couldn't levitate, after all. Or there was some strange rule about it that I didn't know. \n\n\"Ow! That hurt!\", I exclaimed upon hitting the ground. I was bleeding all over the place. But then I felt my wounds closing up.\n\n\"You have healing powers too?\", the seeress said in disbelief. \"Damn, dude, I've never seen someone with multiple powers before.\"\n\nJust as my last wound was about to close up, it stopped. I was still bleeding, but only from one small wound. \n\nActually, was I bleeding? It almost seemed like it was going backwards, sucking the blood back in from the floor. Weird. \n\n\"Dude. Come with me. We *have* to figure out how you work. We could rule the world!\"\n\n\"What about your job?\"\n\n\"Screw my job! I will never get a chance like this again! Let's go!\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are some areas that need improvement. For example, your dialogue could be more natural and realistic. In addition, your story could benefit from more description, especially when it comes to the seeress's appearance and the protagonist's powers. Overall, though, you have a solid foundation for a good story."}
{"prompt": "\"Don't lose your minds,\" I read aloud, then looked quizzically at the analysis team.  They looked confused, then curious, then terrified, as they all ran out of the room. \n\n\"Huh?\" I thought, before my thoughts erupted into seven... no... dozens... of voices, all screaming into existence in a unique blaze of color.  Black and White quarreled in the corner over who was better friends with which Gray, while Magenta would not stop screeching.  There was Hot Pink in the back trying to seduce a shy shade of yellow, and *someone* had started playing mariachi music.\n\nWe simply observed for a few minutes, trying to discern which of us was me and which of us were them.  The chaos was almost too much to bear, until one of us remembered the note.  \"DON'T LOSE YOUR MINDS!\" came a voice from the back.  \"DON'T. LOSE. YOUR. MINDS.  Rank and file, everyone, and we'll get this all sorted out.  Until then, keep your mouths shut and your hands to yourself.  We cannot afford to lose ANY of you. \"\n\nSlowly, but surely, all of our selves quieted down and stood in formation.  Army Green was marching up and down, making sure everyone was arranged according to their place on the spectrum, saturation, and hue.  Everything was silent with the exception of Eggshell, who was sobbing quietly in the back.  It wasn't until then that we noticed which of me had taken charge.\n\nI always knew we could count on Navy Blue.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " First, I will give you a compliment, then I will provide critical feedback, then I will give you another compliment.\n\nYour story has a strong hook and a unique premise. I was immediately engaged and curious to see where the story would go. However, there are a few areas that could be improved.\n\nFirst, the dialogue could be more realistic. It feels a bit stilted and forced in places. Second, the story could be more concise. There are a few areas that feel unnecessary or could be shortened.\n\nOverall, this is a strong story with a lot of potential. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "It all started soon after when the disasters hit. They were never the same, with nothing similar except for the human death toll, but they came on a monthly schedule like clockwork. Not on the same day, but once a month, no more, no less, and with casualties in the tens of millions. It was never in doubt which was the *disaster*, even when some pretty terrible stuff happened the same month. Despite all our fecundity, the human population went from growing to shrinking. A year after a paper went out from an unknown account, to, quote, \"give us a fighting chance\". It gave detailed instructions for producing a serum, that if taken before puberty would provide superpowers to the children. Considering one of the disasters was an as of yet incurable epidemic, the medical regulations have been relaxed, but some guy who had access to the necessary equipment, a few kids, and a lax stance on ethics still beat them to the first human trial. The Willisberg case became world famous, from the court proceedings to their daughter Marie, with a superpowered immune system whose blood donations helped develop the first cure to the epidemic. While individual *gifts*, as many came to call them, were amenable to scientific analysis (and, in fact, brought many breakthroughts of their own), the serum itself was an absolute mystery. We knew some things about it, but those things raised more questions than answers. \n\n* The procedure to create it involved inserting a particular genetic sequence into a bacterium and collecting its excretions. The sequence was about ~20k base pairs in length and contained 13 genes coding for proteins never seen before. \n* The genetically modified bacteria were self-rewriting, with the inserted gene expanding itself like a compressed file. A line of bacteria somehow synchronized on and produced a serum of plasmids containing another DNA chain, this one over a million base pairs in length. This sequence was different for each line, and only a few variants (e.g. the super-strength one) have been even partially decoded. \n* When injected into a child's body, the serum would produce mutations and severe systemic inflammation. Within a month, around 95% would recover and have no ill effects, though tests revealed modified DNA and visible changes to the spinal cord, brain stem, pituitary gland, corpus callosum, frontal lobe and amygdala. \n* Around the start of puberty, the child would experience symptoms resembling a focal or absence seizure, and have a profound psychological experience. That would be their brain linking to the powers that have been developing in them. \n\nThat's usually when they were taken away for questioning and assigned a job track. That much I knew from research on the Internet, when it works. The acid rain took out our city's cable a month ago and I had to go to libraries ever since. I took every opportunity to learn as much as possible as my day was approaching. I was surprised by how many didn't care. I mean, they call me gifted and maybe I'm smarter than most 14-year-olds, but still, even if I couldn't understand everything I'd try and know as much as possible about what was happening in *my* body! If there's anything worth learning about, it's your body! And if superpowers didn't exist we would fantasize about them all the time I bet, but all the kids are acting like something being real takes the fun out of it. The \"awakening\" scared me most of all, for some reason. The last few years, I was paranoid about everything that could go wrong, and I suppose with horrible things happening every month it's unavoidable, but I could visualize the scenario, all my senses overloaded, my muscles shaking as hard as they can as my brain cells fry one by one like a computer in a microwave. \n\nIt happened when I was sitting in class. First my head started to hurt and I saw white in my peripheral vision, like the opposite of a brownout, and something told me to look ahead or I would be blinded by looking to the sides. And I tried to keep my eyes forward as the brightness focused into hundred, thousands of images and put my head down on the book so I wouldn't fall and hit it and closed my eyes and\n\nfelt like a blind person opening ten thousand eyes for the first time\n\nme in a lab, strapped to a bed, a screen flashing questions and me saying will you let me go if I answer this one and the doctor reaches towards the lever and before I can scream NO there is\n\n**PAIN**\n\nand me in a beautiful meeting room and signing an order to gas the uprising before they become loud enough to spark a civil war and\n\n**GUILT**\n\nand me being led to a bunker and knowing that when the door is sealed the longest timeline we have ahead of us is six months and \n\n**REGRET**\n\nand me being led to the exam room while the woman behind me in doctor's clothes motioned me in and closed the door and forced down her guilt but I didn't care I just wanted it to be over and\n\n**NOTHINGNESS**\n\nI closed my thousands of eyes out of pain, I couldn't bear to look at what was in front of me, that was what I told myself and the images faded, all except for a few. I saw a plan laid out before me, except it was more of an anti-plan. I didn't come up with it by seeking the future I wanted. I came up with it by flinching in pain from the futures that were too terrible for me to watch. \"Don't let *them* know.\" I knew who *they* were. I saw *their* first meeting, before the first Disaster. \n\n(to be continued, maybe)\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are areas that need improvement. One issue is that your story is choppy and difficult to follow in places. For example, the sentence \"While individual *gifts*, as many came to call them, were amenable to scientific analysis (and, in fact, brought many breakthroughts of their own), the serum itself was an absolute mystery.\" is confusing and could be rewritten more clearly. Additionally, your story would benefit from more description and sensory detail. For example, you could describe the \"awakening\" scene in more detail to help the reader feel more connected to the character's experience. Overall, there is a lot of potential in your story, and with some revision, it could be really strong."}
{"prompt": "\u201c*Don\u2019t do it, captain*.\u201d\n\nI stand in front of the window, narrowing my eyes at the handwritten note on the paper in front of me as I read it over twice more.\n\n\u201cUm, excuse me?\u201d I say as I tap the window.\n\nThey look up to me, and I can see them withhold from rolling their eyes. They take a deep breath, then slide the glass to the side. \u201cYes, sir?\u201d they almost sigh.\n\n\u201cSorry, I just think there\u2019s been a mishap, can you check this for me?\u201d I say as I hand the paper over to them.\n\n\u201cOkay\u2026 sir you do realize I won\u2019t be able to read this, right?\u201d they say as they take the paper from my hands slowly, staring at me with bored eyes.\n\n\u201cYes, just\u2026 aren\u2019t most people\u2019s a bit\u2026 longer?\u201d\n\nThey flip the paper over, then scan over it. \u201cThis looks like a normal length document to me, sir.\u201d As they finish, they begin to hand the paper back to me.\n\n\u201cWhat?\u201d I ask in confusion as I take the paper back. \u201cBut it\u2026\u201d I trail off as I look down to the now completely written document before me, titled, \u201c*Alternative Reader.*\u201d\n\nFor a moment I\u2019m silent, dumbfounded as I scan the paper up and down, looking for the handwritten bit I saw before. Unable to find it, I flip the page over, searching over every square centimeter of the paper for any trace of the writing.\n\n\u201cSir?\u201d The voice of the worker brings me back to reality as they tap at the glass. \u201cDo you have any additional complaints or concerns?\u201d\n\nI blink a few times, looking up to them, then back down to the paper. \u201cUh, no. Sorry, thank you for your help.\u201d I see them nod in response and begin to close the sliding window before I turn around and walk to the exit of the building. As I walk down the street, I hold the page out in front of me, still searching for the message I saw written on it just minutes prior. Arriving to the bus stop, I sit down, continuing to look it over without actually reading it.\n\nIt takes the sound of the automated audio messages of the bus arriving to finally pull me from my daze. Getting up from my seat, I fold the paper up briefly as I get on the bus and try to find a seat. Then, when I finally sit down, I unfold it, and begin to read it in earnest.\n\n\u201c*Alternative Reader.*\n\n\u201c*Class: S*\u201d\n\nI withhold a gasp as my eyes widen, and I set the paper down for a moment. In my chest, I can feel my heart thumping as I close my eyes. Taking a deep, shaky breath, I pick up the paper again, and open my eyes to read on.\n\n\u201c*Any persons with this power will gain the ability to see between the veils of reality and choice. The Holder will perceive a variety of sensory stimuli from parallel realities. There is no requirement for these realities to have large differences, or be based on the choices of the Holder, all that is required is that the \u2018observed\u2019 realities be similar to that of the Holder.*\n\n\u201c*The stimuli need not be temporally locked to the current location of the user, nor do the stimuli they would experience need to be that which they would perceive at the temporal coordinates they would therein inhabit.*\u201d\n\nThe sounds of the bus grow louder around me as I continue reading. Digging my knuckle into my temple to try and stave off the incoming headache, I continue.\n\n\u201c*The only requirements and patterns for this ability are thus: Perceived events will only be of the present or future, and the strength and time in which events are perceived is based upon the severity in which that choice deviates from the natural timeline. The more impactful the choice, the more clear the stimuli will appear, and the more disjointed from its temporal location it may be.*\u201d\n\nThe sounds still grow louder around me, along with the whispers of the others on the bus. Still, I ignore it, and read on.\n\n\u201c*The different strengths of the stimuli can range between the following: Seeing \u2018ghosts\u2019 or \u2018echoes\u2019 of others as they perform choices seconds apart from when they actually do. Hearing whispers, or feeling, smelling, or tasting \u2018phantom\u2019 effects. At most impactful, these could include hearing entire phrases or conversations, as well as seeing\u2014*\u201c\n\n\u201cExcuse me!\u201d an overly loud voice startles me from my reading, and I feel a hand that isn\u2019t there grab me on the shoulder. I nearly jump to my feet as I look up and see someone standing before me. \u201cSorry,\u201d they say, and though their voice sounds soft, it hurts my ears to listen to them. \u201cCan I have the seat next to you?\u201d\n\n\u201cY\u2014yeah, sorry,\u201d I say as I scoot over a bit to free up the space to my side.\n\n\u201cThank you.\u201d\n\nI have to resist the urge to cover my ears as they sit down next to me and begin talking, so to tune them out, I look back down to my paper to read further. As I do, however, the paper is mostly blank once more, save for those same four words at the top of the page.\n\nAnd slowly, in the back of my mind, the whisper of a man\u2019s voice grows.\n\n\u201cPlease, Captain! Why would you do this!?\u201d\n\n\\------\n\nHeavily inspired by a certain choose-your-own-adventure film released recently. Saw a chance, and I just couldn't get this idea out of my head, so here it is.\n\nThanks for the prompt, OP, this was a joy to write!\n\nr/IUniven\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The beginning of your story is very confusing and hard to follow. You need to work on making your prose more clear and concise. I would also recommend starting with a more action-packed opening to hook your reader's attention.\n\nOverall, you have a lot of potential as a writer. I think with some more practice, you could produce some really great work."}
{"prompt": "I walk outside 6 minutes before the time of my birth \n\nWatch the world as I and everyone else saw it \n\nWondering what it could've meant \n\nThey told me but four words and I didn't understand until time was up\n\n*5 minutes*\n\nI wait to see the sun rise \n\nIt take only but a moment for everything to change \n\nI wonder what the world would become after I change \n\nThey tell stories of a kid bursting into flames and wreaking havoc only to be snuffed out...\n\n On that day it rained. \n\n*4 minutes* \n\nAnother kid had became water \n\nNothing special just water.... \n\nUnfortunately she was in the shower and became one with the sea. \n\nI was told her parents would visit every year during her birthday wondering if she could feel their hands as they brush it along the water. \n\n*3 minutes* \n\nThe system was flawed, the parents were never allowed to overhear what powers the kids got without permission. \n\nIt was always an experiment for those bastards. \nWaiting and watching if those kids were going to tell the truth \n\nBut it wasn't all too bad most of them, they knew the seriousness of the situation and were prepared for something like this\n\nAnd they said what their power was. \n\n*2 minutes* \n\nBut what I got... What I got made no sense\nEveryone I knew had this elaborate way and text to know they were going to get, but I nor the people who tested me knew \n\nThe system was perfect the epitome of perfection\nOr at least until I read what was on that paper \n\n*1 minute* \n\n\"don't look at me\" \n\nI didn't get it, what did it mean? \nI look at the time as the seconds past by \nMy anxiety was dripping from my soul \n\nI rush inside to the bathroom after a moment I look up as my body and face change, I always had a feeling it had to do with my appearance, but what I saw should never reach the other side of that door \nAs I broke the glass to the mirror \n\nMy parents rush to the noise I lock the door to the bathroom, but my father one of the few lucky he worked at the zoo he was given the strength of any animal he touched and unfortunately he broke through the door as I look into their eyes for a moment \n\nI scream...\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " First, I'd like to commend you on your use of descriptive language and your ability to set a scene. Your opening paragraph is particularly evocative. However, there are a few areas where your prose could be improved. For example, in the second paragraph, you might want to consider using stronger verbs to describe the protagonist's actions. Additionally, in the third paragraph, you might want to clarify what the protagonist is wondering about.\n\nIn general, I think your story has potential, but it might benefit from a bit more development in terms of plot and character. For instance, it might be helpful to give the reader more information about the protagonist's background and why they are testing their powers. Additionally, the story might be more suspenseful if the reader knew more about the consequences of the protagonist's actions."}
{"prompt": "To get the description of your magic power you'll have to dip one piece of paper in the water from the magic fountain. Seemed pretty simple but whenever I tried it my paper didn't say anything until I picked it up. I held it against the sun like it's usually done and with my heart racing I opened my eyes ready to see the very long yet amazing description, but when I looked there were only four big words written on the paper. \"Don't make eye contact.\"\nMy dad, mom and sister were waiting by the car, they said they wanted me to have this moment and tell them all about it when I'm ready. What do I tell them now? My sister said her description was so lengthy she had to use two sheets of paper and it could have basically been summarized by saying \"you can make things levitate.\" The average human being was getting about one to two page description of their super power so what is with this? Maybe my family was playing a prank on me. Yep that must have been it. I mean I saw the ritual happen a thousand times and everyone had at least half a page of description of their powers. \"Don't make eye contact\" hah that's so dumb I almost fell for it too.\n\"Are you done? Mom and dad are in a hurry. We can read everything in the car.\"\n\"You know you almost got me with this one.\" I turned to face my sister and as soon as I made eye contact with her she burst into flames like a tank of gas. I watched it all happen and I couldn't do anything but listen to her screaming and begging for help. I dropped to my knees crying. The only thought in my mind was what have I done. I watched my sister take a few more steps and drop lifeless on the floor. My parents both freaked out, came to her rescue but I knew my sister was dead and it was all my fault. My dad was yelling at me asking what happened but I couldn't answer, the sheet of paper that forever changed my life was in front of me with the same four words written on it.\nMy mom called out to me but I told them to stay away. I covered my eyes in fear. I knew if I looked them in the eyes they would end up just like my sister. My mom tried to grab my hand but I told her to get away. I couldn't hold my tears any longer. What have I done? My mother picked up the paper and read the four words horrified. She called out to my dad who was still checking on my sister and when she showed him the paper he read it out loud. \"Don't make eye contact.\"\nHearing them again made me lose my mind. Why? What kind of power is this? Or should I say curse. What have I done to deserve this? Why is this happening to me?\nMy dad said my name and unconsciously I looked up at him. The last word he said was \"you\". He burst into flames just like my sister. My mother, scared to death, was trying to put him out when she turned and looked me right in the eyes. It wasn't longer before she too was engulfed by the flames of death. I watch as they both die burned alive right before my eyes. Their screams will forever be a memory that will plague my mind till death. Shortly after everything went black.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of your story is intriguing and immediately draws the reader in. However, the rest of the story falls flat and is not nearly as interesting as the beginning. There are a few issues with your prose that you can work on to improve the overall quality of your writing.\n\nFirst, you need to work on your sentence structure. Many of your sentences are choppy and awkward, and they do not flow well together. You also need to be careful of your word choice. In many places, you use words that are too simple and do not convey the meaning you are trying to communicate.\n\nIn addition, the story feels very rushed and there is not enough development of the characters or the plot. As a result, the ending is very abrupt and feels unfinished.\n\nOverall, there is potential in your story, but it needs more development and refinement. With some work, you can create a much more polished and engaging piece of writing."}
{"prompt": "\u201cIt\u2019s inefficient and slow.\u201d The insufferable little man complained for the third time in 2 standard intervals. \n\n\u201cThe Lyrnaure way represents true travel beyond light speed.\u201d Uhigiria made the message flash on the humans small display screen tied to the small man\u2019s wrist. It was not a bad way of communicating with the frustrating humans who seemed incapable of learning any of the 17 standard galactic languages. \u201cIt already breaks your species understanding of the physical universe.\u201d \n\n\u201cOh sure you rock it on the straightaways but your turn like a supermarket trolley and your pit stops are more go kart than Formula 1.\u201d The man complained to the screen on his arm. That was the downside of the display screens, humans tended to look at them while talking instead of who they were actually talking to. Uhigiria reached out with a body hand and grabbed the human by its head tilting its face up to look at him.\n\n\u201cSuggestions are asked of you, not meaningless complaints.\u201d The words appeared on the screen in the corner of the human\u2019s eye as he looked up at the pale 4 eyed face of his supervisor. \n\n\u201cAlright, we should drift between the Lyrnaure way gates.\u201d The human said firmly.\n\n\u201cHow would turning our engines off increase efficiency?\u201d Uhigiria asked, as mad as it sounded there might be a chance to save fuel rattling around in this human\u2019s brain.\n\n\u201cNo not like that.\u201d The human explained brushing Uhigiria\u2019s hand aside and hopping up on a stool next to the display screen. \u201cAlright so the gate travel is awesome, post light speed and all that, but its only straight lines, so you have all these turns and intersections where gates going in different directions meet up. We always spend like half a week at those damn things slowing down to just a few hundred kilometres per second, re aligning with the next gate and then going through. We could have been halfway to our destination in that time.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe time spent between gates can indeed be long.\u201d Uhigiria conceded as he watched the human drawing lines and shapes he presumed was meant to represent one such intersection of Lyrnaure ways. \u201cIt is required for safe exit and re-entry of the Lyrnaure ways.\u201d \n\n\u201cNo it\u2019s not.\u201d The human claimed, once again speaking to his wrist screen. \u201cI\u2019ve done the math, if we angle the ship while in the Lyrnaure way and we turn off the inertia dampeners for just a fraction of a second at around 0,24 seconds before we hit the exit then we could carry out a good 3% of the speed from the Lyrnaure way. That means we could be going like 100,000 kilometres per second as we exit. Now if we\u2019ve angle ourselves right we can blast afterburners like there\u2019s no tomorrow and ride that speedboost all the way to the next gate and hit it at the perfect angle to sail straight through and complete the crossing in minutes rather days.\u201d\n\nUhigiria watched the little man ramble excited about his plan. It had been wrong to hope for a way to save fuel, humans had never been able to differentiate efficient and fast. \u201cThe idea is ludicrous. The strain on the ship for moving at those speeds outside the Lyrnaure ways would be-\u201c\n\n\u201cWell within safety limits, I\u2019ve already done the math.\u201d The man said and slapping what looked suspiciously like a drawn on napkin onto the screen, Uhigiria decided not to find out what made it stick. He leaned in and studied the numbers.\n\n\u201cHave you run them by the computer?\u201d He asked as he looked at the meaningless scribbles, he had never been gifted in numbers, but he wasn\u2019t about to let a human know that.\n\n\u201cYeah, it all checks out within safety limits.\u201d He smiled as he hopped down from his stool with a bump that hid a muttered \u201cTheoretically.\u201d \n\n\u201cAlright human, I suppose it is worthy of an attempt.\u201d Uhigiria admitted, spending less time between Lyrnaure ways would greatly enhance their ability to react to changes. \u201cBut what about the risk of other ships being at the intersections?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh I\u2019ve got a solution for that, we can set up a stationary radiation emitter at each one that emits electromagnetic waves through the Lyrnaure ways to let people know it\u2019s their turn to go. It would travel at the speed of light, hit the gate to get ramped up in speed and reach the other end in time to tell whoever wants to enter if the coast is clear.\u201d\n\n\u201cRadiation emitters can be harmful. We will have to choose the frequency carefully.\u201d Uhigiria noted carefully.\n\n\u201cI suggest we pick Red light and Green light.\u201d The human said proudly and shrugged when asked to elaborate on why. \u201cJust makes it feel like home.\u201d\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening sentence is good, it immediately establishes the tone and voice of the story. The dialogue between the two characters is well done and believable. However, there are a few areas where the story could be improved:\n\n- There is a lot of exposition in the dialogue, which slows down the pacing of the story. Try to find ways to show the information instead of telling it.\n- The ending feels abrupt and unfinished. Make sure to wrap up the story so that readers are satisfied.\n- There are a few typos and grammatical errors throughout the story. Be sure to proofread your work before submitting it."}
{"prompt": "**-** What do you mean you lost him again? He's wearing a high vis vest and an orange helmet!  \n**+** I told you countless times, I'm colorblind! My entire species literally can't see color! Why is that so hard to get? Besides, he told me that I should just let him do his job, and that I should trust him by now.  \n**-** And so you just let that little rascal run freely around the ship?!  \n**+** Oh come on, he is way more competent than he looks. Has he ever broken anything?  \n**-** No...? But I just don't trust something that looks like a baby Kanuut...\n\n**\\*THUNT\\***\n\n**-** Aaand, now he turned of the lights, brilliant.  \n**+** Oh it's not that bad, we can still ecoloca...  \n**-** I told you my species can't do that! How is that so hard to get?!\n\n**\\*VVVVVMMMTSSIIIII!\\***\n\n**+** AHH, WHERE IS THAT NOISE COMMING FROM?!  \n**-** HE'S GONNA KILL US! HE TOOK AWAY OUR SENSES AND NOW HE'S GONNA STRIKE FROM THE SHADOWS AND END OUR LIV....\n\n**\\*PFIUWP\\***\n\n**+** Hey the light's back on.  \n**-** And the noise is gone too.  \n**\u00b0** Oi  \n**-**/**+** AAAHHH!!!  \n**\u00b0** Sorry mates, didn't mean to startle you there. I installed the new drive big man, she's now purrin' like me Tshesqua after dinner. Anything else mate?  \n**+** That would be all for now.  \n**-** Eh yes, that would be all... thanks.  \n**\u00b0** No worries, see ya around...  \n...  \n**+** Aaaww see, he just wanted to do his job. You know you're gonna have to trust him at some poi...Eeh, are you ok man?  \n**-** *...that little rascal..*.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are a few areas that could use some improvement. First, your dialogue could be more natural and flowing. It sounds a bit stilted and stiff in places. Second, your characters need to be more developed. We don't really know anything about them other than their basic conflict. What motivates them? Why do they act the way they do? Finally, the ending of the story feels abrupt and unfinished. What happened to the main character after the incident with the Kanuut?\n\nOverall, there is a lot of potential in this story, but it needs some work in order to reach its full potential. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "They met twice a month, when both stars set together and the evening darkness was deep enough to cover footsteps.\n\nRial watched the hastening starset through her cramped room's single window - a skylight the size of a hail-rock, of her palm. When the sky deepened to cobalt, she slipped into her robe and began her silent prayers to the ancient creatures. By the time she finished, the stars were lulled and the sky was a deep, sleepy black.\n\nAs stealthily as possible, Rial made her way through the shadows of the commune and snuck out onto the streets.\n\nShe closed her eyes here, sheltered in the doorway, and listened for the hiss of the patrol drone. When the buzzing was loudest -- the drone only yards away -- she counted to twenty. Then she opened her eyes and sprinted to the sewer entrance.\n\nHer heart was slapping at her ears and throat as she slipped down into the underground passage. Safety. If she'd been caught up there, at night-hours, her brain would probably have been chipped. If you broke any of the night-rules, they'd chip you. After that, you couldn't break rules even if you wanted to. Your body simply wouldn't obey your mind any longer. Your legs would refuse to leave the bedroom.\n\nHalfway down the third tunnel Rial could hear the distant choir singing.\n\n*Oh great humanity*\n\n*We call your name*\n\n*Hear our plea*\n\nRial wasn't in the choir but she knew the words to every hymn and sang in a whisper as she made her way towards the dead church.\n\nIt wasn't just hope that had driven her to the ancient priest and his cult. It was despair. Rial had no friends before joining the church. No prospects beyond waiting to hit breeding age and being assigned. No enjoyment in her life except for watching the sky deepen and lighten, deepen and lighten, through her tiny window.\n\nShe might not have hung on long enough to even join the dead church if it wasn't for the threat: if you take your life, the government takes ten others in your name. Your family, if you have any. That kind of guilt kept everyone living.\n\nShe hadn't ever seen the other members' faces, except for the priest's, but she knew the sound of each of them, knew the shape of their soul. Rial lived for these nights.\n\n*Oh please humanity*\n\n*Return to us*\n\n*Set us free*\n\nThe tunnel beyond flickered with warm, welcoming light. The yellow-orange of wax candles burning.\n\nShe turned the corner and opened the hatch to the church, singing loudly. \"Oh great humanity...\"\n\nThe hatch creaked open.\n\nShe stopped very suddenly, too stunned to turn and run. \"But...\"\n\nA rough hand snatched her arm and drew it behind her back.\n\n\"Got another here,\" said the man who'd grabbed her.\n\nThe singing... it'd been a trap. A recording of the usual choir, played to lure in other members. To lure her in.\n\nShe knew that had to be the case because the real choir, along with the priest and most of the congregation lay in bloody heaps on the stone altar and shallow nave. The priest's grey beard was dyed bright red. A hole ran through his forehead.\n\nThe air tasted of iron. Of death. It settled over Rial's skin and tongue.\n\nAnother man approached her, a man with wide lips twisted into a perverse grin. \"What a shame she was late to the party. She's missed all the fun.\" He paused then added, \"Well, maybe not all of it.\"\n\nSome of Rial's shock fell away, only to be replaced by anger. By hatred. She stomped her boot as hard as possible on the guard's foot. He let out a muffled scream and released her arm.\n\nBefore either man could react, she was back out of the hatch. She slammed it shut and turned the lock. It wouldn't buy her long, but maybe long enough. She darted through the tunnels, left, left, right... Trying desperately to remember the route the priest took them on that one day every year.\n\nWhere was it? It was almost impossible to find anything in this darkness. She was running blind, her hands pawing at walls to find the curves.\n\nShe could hear footsteps somewhere behind her. They were already through.\n\nGaining.\n\nThere it was! The ladder. She shimmied down into the next labyrinth of tunnels. Left, left, right, same as before. The darkness here was deafening. Mind consuming. She found the next ladder though, and now nothing seemed to be following her.\n\nShe could feel the hot tears running down her cheeks. She wiped them away and told herself to keep them for later. Right now, she had work to do.\n\nThe secret passage swung open when she pulled at the right brick. Rial stepped through into the sacred room.\n\nThis room was well lit, unlike the rest of the underground. Smooth white metal walls were covered in consoles and buttons. And in the centre of the small room lay the container.\n\nShe leaned over the glass and, beyond her own tearful reflection, she could see the sleeping human within. The last human.\n\n\"Please,\" she said. \"Please wake up. I need your help.\"\n\nRial tried to pry open the glass. The priest had said never to touch it. That if they broke it, the human would die. Instead, they must wait until the human had slept enough. Only then would its wrath be unleashed.\n\n\"Please!\" She hammered on the glass with her fists. \"Please.\"\n\nFootsteps again. How had they tracked her already? Shit, they must have had thermal imagining glass. They were following her footsteps. They'd see her prints walk into a brick wall, and then... Shit, shit shit! She'd led them right to the human. She was going to die and she'd let everyone down. The last human would die with her. Because of her.\n\nPanting, she stepped away from the container and leaned against a wall.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" she said. To the human. To all her friends. To herself. \"I'm so sorry.\"\n\nShe slouched down against the wall.\n\nA strange voice said, \"Activated.\"\n\n\"Huh? Did... Did someone say something?\" No reply. She checked the container: still closed. What had she heard? Anything at all?\n\nThe wall of the secret passage exploded inwards, throwing Rial to the floor.\n\nThree men stepped through the wreckage, guns smoking. And there, behind them, was the grinning man. Although he was no longer grinning.\n\nHe looked around, frowning. Then at Rial, he said, \"Kill her.\"\n\nThey raised their weapons. Aimed.\n\nFour quick bursts came from somewhere in the ceiling. Four blinding lights.\n\n\"Threat eliminated,\" said the strange voice.\n\nThe men were gone. Completely and utterly gone.\n\nRial got back to her feet just in time to hear the hiss of hydraulics. To see the curls of purple smoke escape from the rising glass of the container.\n\nThe human was waking.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " First, I will commend you on your use of description and setting. The story is set in a dystopian future, and you do a good job of making the world feel real and lived-in. I especially like the detail about the \"hail-rock\" skylight.\n\nThat said, there are a few things you could do to improve your style. One is to vary your sentence length a bit more. Right now, most of your sentences are relatively short, which can make the writing feel choppy. Try adding in a few longer, more complex sentences to break things up.\n\nAnother thing you might want to work on is your dialogue. Right now, it feels a bit stiff and formal. This could be a deliberate choice on your part, to reflect the stiffness of the characters' speech, but if not, you might want to try to make it sound a bit more natural.\n\nOverall, you have a strong story here. With a few tweaks to your style, it will be even stronger."}
{"prompt": "\"BEHOLD!\" I exclaimed, raising all of my arms to the sky. \"The eldritch God has returned!\"\n\nThe congregation behind me raised their arms in imitation of mine, most trembling with religious frenzy. These people had heard stories of the elder gods since they were larvae, hummed through their hives by the brood mothers. To see one in the flesh had been unthinkable mere days before. Few had believed me when I revealed my vision of their return. \n\n\"The God Jimbob has returned to our mortal plane of existence! His light shines upon us all!\" My own limbs were trembling now, partially from this holy experience, but mostly from the exertion of holding up my staff over my head for so long. I decided that the Eldrich God Jimbob may be ok with a kneeling supplication as well, and dropped to my knees. The followers of Jimbob behind me copied this stance as well, almost in unison. \n\nAs I was trying to think of what to say next, I heard a voice shout from behind me. It was faint, just barely audible from both distance and the speaker's old age. \n\n\"Stop this at once, youngling!\" The voice said. I turned towards the interloper and saw an old brood mother, walking towards me slowly on her old exoskeleton. \"We need to seek refuge, not worship!\"\n\nI scoffed at her. This was not my brood mother, so I owed her no respect or allegiance. She was probably just envious that I now had more influence in the hive than she did. \n\n\"Why would we run from the embrace of our creator?\" I asked, making sure to speak loud enough for my flock to hear. \"This is the Elder God Jimbob! He who provided us grains and seeds to feast upon, he who made our world with his own hands, he who was fortold to drive away the cold and snow, and restore the fields to their former glory!\"\n\nThe brood mother trembled, in either frustration or weakness. One of the members of my flock ran to her aid, grabbing her thorax to help her remain upright. She shrugged him off with a valiant effort. \"This Jimbob was prophesied to return, but as a destroyer! Not a creator!\"\n\nI scoffed again. \"Who was the blasphemer that told you this lie? We shall sacrifice them to the creator!\"\n\n\"It was my own brood mother\" she said. \"She passed down the stories from before the snow and the cold, before the fields turned brown and the light disappeared. It was Jimbob who closed us in this infernal place to begin with!\" \n\nI could tolerate this sacrilege no more. \"Blasphemer!\" I cried, raising my staff at her. \"Kill the blasphemer! Silence her unholy screeches!\" \n\nThe congregation instantly turned into a riot. The dismemberment would not be pleasant to look upon, and I did not want to sully this encounter with God. I turned and strode back to the front of the gathering, to the place closest to the gargantuan form of Jimbob. \"Heed not the unbeliever, oh mighty Jimbob!\" I cried, supplicating myself once more before him. I could only hope he could hear my pleas in time. \n\nSuddenly, I was flooded with a brilliant light, and saw a divine hand reaching towards me.\n\n\n\n----------\n\n\n\n\"Aw hell, skeeter\" I said, backing out of the old shed. \"Looks like bugs dun' got in there over winter.\"\n\n\"Sheeit, Jimbob\" my cousin replied. \"Just chuck a bug bomb in there, we'll come back f'rit in the mornin.\"\n\n\"Well ain't that an idea, Skeeter. How are we gonna go fish if we cain't get our fishin' stuff?\"\n\nSkeeter hocked a large brown stream of chewing tobacco spit on the ground. \"Well, maybe we just need to find som'n else to do today. Just kill those critters and let's git goin.\"\n\nI opened the shed door once more. The bug bombs we had got from Tractor Supply last spring were still there on the shelf just inside. I reached to grab it, sweeping a lone bug off the top of the can before activating the spray. \n\n\"we'll come on back tomorrow. Gotta bring a broom or someth'n to get them critters outta there\"\n\n\nr/SlightlyColdStories if you want. Or don't. It's all up to you.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " You did a good job of setting the scene and creating a sense of place. I could picture the scene clearly in my mind. You also did a good job of creating believable characters. The dialogue felt natural and realistic.\n\nOne suggestion I would have is to vary your sentence structure more. You have a lot of short, simple sentences. While there is nothing wrong with this, varying your sentence structure will make your writing more interesting to read.\n\nYou also did a good job of using sensory details to bring the scene to life. I could smell the bug spray and feel the heat of the sun on my skin.\n\nOne suggestion I would have is to be careful of using too much dialogue. In this story, the dialogue feels like it is moving the plot along too quickly. Slowing down the dialogue and adding more description will help to create a more immersive reading experience."}
{"prompt": "Something prodded on the senses of It That Slumbers. Distantly, faintly, a call sounded from the depths of creation. Beasts howl in the night, and one of them is known to the unwakeable horror. Bes'ghaull spoke the names and drew in dirt the ancient signs.\n\nReluctantly, It That Slumbers woke, and teetered anxiously on the precipice between dream and sensibility. It sensed chill and damp and windy in short, breathy whisps. It knew the call.\n\nIt rose, with Bes'ghaull racing in front of it. Her chitinous claws clattered against the smooth floor. It stumbled and plodded up to the gateway. It slammed an appendage, ripped with tendon and bone, against the lock, and heaved the gateway open.\n\nShe ran past it, into the night. Then she stopped. She turned to look back. Gazing up into it's glossy eyes in the moonlight, she squats and poops.\n\n\"Good girl, Daisy,\" it says with considerable awkwardness. So acknowledged, she runs back into the gateway, to the chamber where It That Slumbers dwells until the great fire in the sky again rouses it. She lays down where It That Slumbers had slept, and stretches out horizontally across it.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " First, I want to commend you for using descriptive language to set the scene and create a sense of place. I also like the way you use sensory details to engage the reader's imagination. However, there are a few things you could do to improve the flow and clarity of your writing. For example, you might want to break the story up into shorter paragraphs to make it easier to read. You might also want to clarify the relationship between It That Slumbers and Daisy. Are they friends? Family? What is the nature of their relationship?\n\nOverall, I think you have a lot of potential as a writer. I hope you will continue to work on your craft and I look forward to reading more of your work in the future."}
{"prompt": "\"Will you be attending the ceremony that the Whimmies are holding in our honor your highness? asked the high priestess.  It would mean a whole lot to them if we show up even if just for a brief moment. It is thanks to them that your highness is able to maintain the battery of the luxurious aquarium active. Thus keeping your greatness' vast society of fish alive and healthy.\"\n\n\"Put it on my to do list Thena, commanded the god. Why do the Whimmies persist on me attending  every single one of their pointless ceremonies. Are they not aware that I have a kingdom to run. One day I am going to invent a hologram machine just so I can appease my fanatics while enjoying the benefits from my throne.\"\n\nThe kings sat apathetically in his chair. A look of concentration and carelessness rested on his face. The high priestess approached the God with the upmost gracefulness.\n\n\"That is great news your highness! exclaimed the priestess. I will reply to the mayor Of Whim at once. I will let them know of all the requirements that must be met to ensure your presence at the event. Would you like to requests any special items in the list of accommodations that will be sent to the Whimmies. I understand one of the guards almost lost their heads because there were no blue Gatorades at the last ceremony you attended.\n\nThe god let out a hearty laugh and almost tipped his entire throne over.\n\n\"I remember the incident differently but alas make sure that my headquarters are filled with the raspberry flavored beverage. That is the only flavored suited for a king.\"\n\n\"Very well your highness, replied the priestess. \n\nThe high priestess exited the god's lair and the god remained seating with only his thoughts to accompany his mightiness.\n\nI wonder how the Whimmies would react if they found out that  the meaning their entire existence was to keep the batteries running inside my aquariums motor. Would they all go mad with the possible restlessness produced by their reality? Or would they thrive and come together as a species unified by the same struggle? \n\nThe god tried his best to enjoy his throne. He was contemplating going out and exploring his kingdom when he heard a loud knock on the door.\n\n\"Brother! exclaimed a loud and thunderous voice. Open the door or by the heavens I will strike the barrier down.\" \n\nThe god stood up from his throne and apathetically made his way to test the hinges of the door. The god was pleased to see that the hinges remained unscathed. The door swung open nearly swiping the apathetic god. The door summoned an identical creature who few would question as the heir to the throne.\n\n\"Listen Tony, pleaded the heavily bearded man. You must not attend the ceremony that the those conniving whimmies have set up in your name. I heard from a trusted source that those ungrateful whimmies plan to assassinate you upon delivering your speech. Brother i am not ready to fill the shoes of such a virtuous man as yourself. Please Brother i beg you to reconsider your trip to Whim. Or at the very least obliterate their entire society with a simple discarding of their source.\"\n\nThe god remained apathetic. He stared at the despair leaking from his brother's presence. \n\n\"I am offended Toluc, expressed the ambient being. Not by the Whimmies' futile attempt at my life but by how much faith you have in my ability to foresee future miss-happenings. I have survived all the shots they have fired at my life and I plan to continue living all the way past the extinguishing of Zorodo.\"\n\n\"Brother I admire your faith in your ability to fool the Whimmies, admitted the younger sibling. But brother I plead that you don't  take the Whimmies lightly. a paid informant has notified me that they have reached the next level in their enlightenment and it will not be very long until they are able to transverse through dimensions like you and I. Then there will be very little that separates us from them.\n\n\"I appreciate your worry  Toluc but the day where I hide from my would be opponents has yet to arrive, announced the divine figure. And I intend to remain grounded. If it would ease your mind I can share some of the things I have invented over the years to ensure my safety in an attempt at my life.\n\nThe god opened up his wardrobe and pressed a button that revealed a hidden compartment built within its borders. Inside the compartment there were many gadgets and different kinds of suits. \n\nThese are the Suits that our ancestors have left for us to build upon if need be Toluc. I could be punished with exile for letting anyone know that the suits are not mere myth.\n\nThe slightly shorter but just as commendable sibling stared in awe as he tried to enter the wardrobe's hidden compartments.\n\nI beg your pardon Brother but these chambers are only accessible to me, explained the heavenly figure. I have made sure that if anybody with a different retina than the one i possess dared to enter the chamber of secrets their entire DNA Structure would be instantly disconfigured. Thus turning the unlucky being in a gelatinous puddle of goo.\n\nThe apathetic god entered the chamber and proceeded only when all the safety procedures were met. He approached a sleek purple and gold suit. He Took his time admiring its immaculate figure. He removed the suit from behind the glass and commenced to enter its fitting. After the suit was evenly distributed throughout the god's perfectly chiseled body the divine figure commenced to mess with the suit's settings. He pushed a button and a identical twin spawned out of thin air wearing the same exact thing as the ruler.\n\n\"I hope your pay suffices your informant's lust for duty, declared the master. Because if my clone gets assassinated that would mean he was doing his job and I would have to save him from his race's extinction.\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The first thing I noticed is that you have a lot of dialogue in your story. While dialogue can be an effective tool, you want to make sure that it is serving a purpose and furthering the plot. In the first section of dialogue, for instance, it feels like the characters are just going back and forth for the sake of it. What information are we getting from this exchange that we couldn't get in a different way?\n\nAnother thing I noticed is that you have a lot of telling instead of showing. For example, you tell us that the king is apathetic, but we don't really see that in his actions or dialogue. Show us why he is apathetic instead of just telling us.\n\nFinally, you have a lot of exposition in your story. While it is important to provide some background information, you want to make sure that it is essential to the story and that it is not just taking up space. In the section about the suits, for instance, it feels like we are getting a lot of information that is not really necessary to the plot.\n\nOverall, there is a lot of potential in this story, but it needs some work in terms of pacing, dialogue, and showing vs. telling."}
{"prompt": "There is a priest on my doorstep. \n  \nWhite collar, black soutane, the whole works. His eyes are filled with fear, and they dart over my shoulder into the interior of my new home. I look behind me but can\u2019t see anything to be afraid of. Unless it\u2019s my son Jon playing Fortnite on his phone, which can admittedly be terrifying.\n  \n\u201cCan I help you?\u201d I ask.\n  \n\u201cI\u2019m Father Ferguson,\u201d he says. \u201cI don\u2019t normally call on strangers unsolicited, Mrs \u2013 er \u2013 \u201c \n  \n\u201cIt\u2019s Miss,\u201d I say. \u201cI am a single, unmarried mother. And, given the benefits situation under our current government, I do not have the money to donate to charity at the door.\u201d\n  \n\u201cIt\u2019s not about charity. There\u2019s a problem with your house. There have been\u2026.disturbances.\u201d\n  \nDamn it. I knew I shouldn\u2019t have invited Ellie over last night. And I definitely shouldn\u2019t have given her tequila.\n  \n\u201cLook, I\u2019m really sorry. It was a one off. It won\u2019t happen again.\u201d\n  \n\u201cIt\u2019s not about noise.\u201d He pauses. \u201cCan I come in?\u201d\n  \n\u201cCertainly not,\u201d I snap.\n  \nHe leans forward and stares deep into my eyes. \u201cYour house is haunted.\u201d\n  \n\u201cOh, give over,\u201d I say.\n  \n\u201cYou need to move now. You are in danger. Your son is in danger. Run.\u201d\n  \n\u201cI don\u2019t think you understand the current housing situation,\u201d I say, in as sweet a voice as I can manage. \u201cThis is a four-bedroomed house, in great condition, with a large garden. And, for some extraordinary reason, the owner insists the price is only \u00a3300 a month. After years of being charged three times that for studio flats in buildings full of warring crackhead dealers, it\u2019s going to have to be some ghost to get me to move.\u201d\n  \n\u201cIt is,\u201d he says, watching me. \u201cIt is some ghost.\u201d\n  \n\u201cSo, if it doesn\u2019t like me, it can pack its bags. I've waited a long time. There is no way I\u2019m leaving a deal like this.\u201d\n  \nThe priest shivers and clutches at his black sleeves.\n  \n\u201cI don\u2019t want to be the one to tell you this - but the family who lived here before you were gruesomely murdered in the basement. Hacked into parts. Rivers of blood.\u201d \n  \n\u201cGNARLY!\u201d shouts Jon, delighted. I hadn\u2019t realised he was listening.\n  \n\u201cGo in the other room, Jon,\u201d I say and he slouches off, looking disappointed. I turn back to the priest.\n  \n\u201cIf you\u2019ll forgive me, Father, your time would be much better spent fighting the Catholic church\u2019s paedophile problem.\u201d\n  \nI slam the door in his face. Jon pops out of the living room, waving his phone at me.\n  \n\u201cCan I have Max over?\u201d he asks. \u201cWe\u2019re going to look for bloodstains!\u201d\n  \n\n  \nOnce the kids are safely in the basement, happily ferreting around looking for murder clues, I retreat to the kitchen and the coffee and walnut cupcakes I just baked. Only to find a large, jet-black rat has pulled one off the table and is eating it.\n  \n\u201cHow rude,\u201d I say. \n  \nThe rat cocks its head at me. It\u2019s the size of a small dog, one of those celebrity handbag dogs. Maybe I should carry it around in my handbag. A handbag rat. I could take it into work with me, and train it to run up people\u2019s legs when they\u2019re rude.\n  \nIt\u2019s actually kind of\u2026strokable. Cute, even.\n  \n\u201cYou can have that cupcake if you like,\u201d I say. \u201cI made too many anyway. But honestly I\u2019m not sure cupcake is good for you.\u201d\n  \nThe rat glows its eyes red, which is somewhat disconcerting but kind of cool. I make a mental note to Google what to feed rats.\n  \nA low, whispering voice echoes through the suddenly darkening room.\n  \n*\u201cGet out! Get out!\u201d*\n  \n\u201cWho\u2019s there?\u201d I ask, and then I notice there\u2019s blood running down the walls.\n  \n\u201cAre you joking?\u201d I shout. \u201cI\u2019ve just cleaned!\u201d\n  \n*\u201cGet out! Get out!\u201d*\n  \n\u201cYOU get out!\u201d I yell at the ceiling.\n  \nThere is a hesitation.\n  \n*\u201cAren\u2019t you scared?\u201d*\n  \nI guess I should be. But I\u2019ve always loved horror films.\n  \n\u201cDid you kill that family?\u201d I ask. \n  \nThere is a silence.\n  \n*\u201cThey watched nothing but The Big Bang Theory. On repeat. Every night.\u201d*\n  \n\u201cFair,\u201d I say.\n  \n*\u201cI respect housemates have different tastes, but every night is over the top.\u201d*\n  \n\u201cI used to live with a woman who refused to watch anything but Keeping up with the Kardashians. She would come in and change the channel in the middle of a film to watch it. Without asking.\u201d \n  \nWe contemplate the horror of housemates.\n  \n\n\nSuddenly, Father Ferguson knocks on the kitchen window, making me jump. He\u2019s shouting: \u201cYour son is in danger!\u201d\n  \n\nI open the garden door.\n  \n\u201cGet off my lawn!\u201d I shout. \u201cDon\u2019t make me get the yard broom!\u201d\n  \nThere is what I can only describe as a soundless noise behind me, and Father Ferguson is covered in tarantulas. He screams horribly and falls to the ground, rolling around to try and kill them.\n  \n\u201cThat\u2019s fantastic!\u201d I say. \u201cSeems a shame about the tarantulas, though.\u201d\n  \n*\u201cThey\u2019re not real. I wouldn\u2019t use real ones. I like spiders.\u201d*\n  \nWe watch Father Ferguson stagger to his feet, covered in burst tarantulas. He howls blindly at the sky.\n  \n\u201cDo you drink tea?\u201d I ask.\n  \n*\u201cI like the smell.\u201d*\n  \n\u201cDecaf ok?\u201d\n  \n*\u201cLovely.\u201d*\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of your story is great, it immediately draws the reader in and creates a sense of suspense. I love the description of the priest and the way his eyes dart around.\n\nHowever, I feel like the story loses its momentum a bit in the second half. The conversation between the protagonist and the ghost feels a bit stilted and unnatural. Also, the ending feels a bit abrupt and unfinished.\n\nOverall, this is a great story with a lot of potential. I would recommend continuing to work on it and refining it."}
{"prompt": "Critiques welcome!\n\nRichard \u201cDicks\u201d Magee sat Amelia and Jon down at the abnormally long dining table with red velvet chairs. There was a stained glass window beside them, with yellowed nails slowly scraping up against it.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m pretty sure vampires ate here,\u201d Amelia said. She was about 13 and wore a turquoise shirt with a glittered heart in the middle.\n\nDicks Magee smiled, flashing one of his many silver teeth. \u201cI\u2019m sure vampires did eat here. When we go back to family court, tell mom I have the FUN HOUSE.\u201d He clapped his hands against the mahogany table. \u201cAnyway, what PROFITABLE ideas do we have next?\u201d\n\nThis house was one of the most \u201cprofitable\u201d houses that Dicks Magee had flipped in recent memory. It was unusually haunted. Like everywhere haunted. And Dicks Magee decided to profit. The blood from the bleeding walls was sold to a bloodbank. Ectoplasm? Glowstick factory. Large creepy rats? Now it was meat for the kids.\n\n\u201cC\u2019mon kids, what should we do next?\u201d Dicks Magee had a dyed-black combover with a white stripe in it, kind of like a skunk. \n\nBoth Amelia and Jon stayed quiet for a while.\n\n\u201cGhost dog petting zoo\u2014\u201c Amelia asked before Jon shushed her.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t humor him.\u201d Jon said. He wore punk band t-shirts, and Dicks Magee thought he was a smart-aleck. \u201cWhat you\u2019re doing is wrong.\u201d\n\nA bead of sweat appeared of Dicks Magee\u2019s face. \u201cWhat do you mean, wrong?\u201d\n\nJon wrinkled his nose. \u201cI saw the ghost family running an alterations shop in the basement? Do you actually think they want to interact with the material world like that? Don\u2019t you think they want to be free?\u201d\n\nDicks Magee huffed. \u201cThey agreed to work for me. I pay them for their work, and then they pay me rent.\u201d The chandelier above Dicks Magee tinkled ominously.\n\nJon narrowed his eyes. \u201cThey shouldn\u2019t have to pay you rent! They lived here originally!! If anything, YOU should pay them rent.\u201d He got up from the table. \u201cLet\u2019s go, Amelia.\u201d\n\nAmelia sat uncomfortably at the table for five minutes while her father ranted about Jon\u2019s insolence, how hard it was to be a small business owner, and how he had the right to charge rent at a house he bought fair and square. Finally, after what felt like eternity, Amelia feigned exhaustion and headed for bed.\n\nJon stood in the long, winding hallway, looking at the paintings of dead people he swore he saw blink. He felt bad for the ghost family downstairs. This ghost family, who had lived rent-free for so long, now forced to run an alterations shop just to keep living in THEIR home. He kept thinking about the ghosts, slaving days and days repairing intricate clothes they could never wear, receiving a paycheck of money that they couldn\u2019t even spend. Except to pay rent to Dicks Magee.\n\nJon waited till everyone had fallen asleep. Finally, the whole house was silent, except for the hoarse, distant screams of the banshees in the attic. Jon braced himself. He knew what he had to do. He tiptoed to the basement, making sure not to turn on the light. He saw a shirt floating in the air, a needle going through it.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s okay. You can show yourself to me. I\u2019m a friend.\u201d\n\nNothing happened. The shirt shuffled out of sight, and Jon seemed to be alone in the room, though he knew he was not alone.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s okay. I\u2019m not like him. I\u2019m not like my father. I want to set you free.\u201d Jon felt his face grow taut with feeling.\n\nSuddenly, a little ghost revealed herself. She was a grey tinted mist with straw-colored hair and no eyes. The mother immediately shushed her and the ghost girl disappeared.\n\n\u201cWhat\u2019s your name?\u201d Jon got on his knees. \u201cIt\u2019s okay.\u201d\n\nHe stayed like that for several minutes with nothing happening. Finally, the father appeared, tall and gaunt grey mist. \u201cWhat dooo you waaaant.\u201d The voice was an echo.\n\n\u201cI want to set you free. From the sewing business.\u201d\n\nThe father stared at him. \u201cThe person who owns this house gives us an impossible amount of garments, makes us work all hours of the day.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd it will never stop.\u201d Jon said. \u201cUnless my father is scared. Unless\u2026you tried to\u2026you know\u2026take him out. Not like seriously, but just enough to scare him.\u201d\n\nThe father made a fist. \u201cDo not talk of violence around my daughter.\u201d\n\nJon sighed. \u201cI\u2019m sorry. But how will you be free?\u201d\n\nThe ghost mother appeared. She looked more hollow than the rest of them. \u201cWe won\u2019t. This is our cross to bear.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere are other abandoned houses. A big one on Main Street.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s been so long since we left.\u201d The father pointed his face at Jon.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll go with you.\u201d Jon said.\n\nThey opened the door and walked together. The ghosts gasped when they saw a McDonalds or a gas station or a streetlight or the stars. They were not used to a Mississippi that looked like this.\n\n\u201cThis is a world I do not recognize.\u201d said the mother.\n\nFinally, they found the old abandoned house. It was even older than the haunted house Dicks Magee had bought. Jon heard a choked sob.\n\n\u201cThis is my grandmother\u2019s house.\u201d The ghost mother said. \n\nBefore Jon could look up, the ghost family was invisible again. Gone. He was alone in the star-filled night, swearing he heard a \u2018thank you\u2019 on the wind\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The beginning of your story is very strong. You immediately set the scene and introduce the characters. I especially like the detail about the \"stained glass window beside them, with yellowed nails slowly scraping up against it.\" This gives the reader a sense of the eerie atmosphere in the house.\n\nHowever, the middle of the story drags a bit. You include a lot of exposition about Dicks Magee's business venture, which is not particularly interesting or necessary to the story. I would suggest cutting down on this and getting to the conflict between Jon and Dicks Magee more quickly.\n\nThe end of the story is also very strong. I like the idea of the ghosts being set free and finding their way back to their old home. This is a heartwarming and satisfying ending."}
{"prompt": "\u201cIt\u2019s just, what\u2019s the point?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI don\u2019t understand.\u201d Replied the sword in Jordan\u2019s mind.\n  \n\n  \nJordan shrugged, \u201cWe\u2019re all going to die anyway.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cMight as well take advantage of it while you can,\u201d suggested the sword.\n  \n\n  \nJordan shook his head, \u201cI don\u2019t trust power without consequence.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cDo you trust anything?\u201d the sword asked.\n  \n\n  \n\u201cNot really.\u201d Jordan answered, \u201cplus, you\u2019re probably cursed.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cWhat makes you suspect that?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI think that all magic items, that way I can never be disappointed when one is.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cYet you still took it.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cLife\u2019s too short to avoid cursed objects.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cYou could achieve so much, just give in to my power.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cLike what? Again, what could I possibly do that hasn\u2019t already been done. My legacy wouldn\u2019t even be a legacy, it would be an echo. Besides, who even cares if I have a legacy, my body will still be ash.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cThen why not give me to someone else?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI don\u2019t trust them with this power.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cDo you trust yourself with it?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cMost certainly not, that\u2019s why I\u2019ll never use it.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cIf you take the power, all your troubles will become distant, you can let all the pain of the world drift away.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cThat\u2019s not living.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI don\u2019t get what you mean.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cLife is pain, you remove it, what\u2019s the point?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cSo life has no point with or without pain?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cYes.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cYour thoughts are exhausting.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cTell me about it. Why do you even want me to take the power anyway?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cIt\u2019s a symbiotic relationship, we both benefit from. I need a wielder, and you need power.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cSo if your wielder doesn\u2019t take the power you have no purpose?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cYes.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cThat\u2019s what I feel like all the time.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cReally?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cYes.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cThen how do you give meaning to your existence.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI\u2019ve been trying to figure that out.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cThen don\u2019t take the power.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cWhat? Wasn\u2019t that what you\u2019ve been telling me to do this whole time?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cYes, but you are right, you should not trust me, I am a cursed weapon.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI knew it. So what happens if I would have taken the power?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI would have corrupted your soul.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cAh, curious. What happens once they are corrupted.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI gain influence over them.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cSo it's the only way you have agency?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cExactly.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cWhat would you do if you had said agency?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cOh, the usual, pillage, plunder, devour souls.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cSounds like you\u2019re stuck in a short-term dopamine loop.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cExcuse me?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cYou don\u2019t know how long you\u2019ll have a body so you do thinks that feed your bloodlust and give you temporary satisfaction, but you\u2019re left dissatisfied long term.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cCurious\u2026 yes, I suppose you\u2019re right.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI am. You need to do something long-term in order to get what you\u2019re really looking for.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cAny suggestions.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cHow about friendship?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI haven\u2019t found any other sentient swords around.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cWhat about me?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cAn unusual proclamation\u2026 but intriguing nonetheless. Sure, let us be friends then.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cWhat did you say your name is?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cYevalra.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cA wonderful name. Alright Yevalra, friends it is.\u201d\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are a few areas that could use some work. First, your dialogue feels a bit stilted and unnatural. Make sure that your characters are speaking in a way that sounds natural and realistic. Also, watch your pacing. Your story feels a bit slow in places and could use some tightening up.\n\nOverall, I think you have a lot of interesting things going on in your story and I enjoyed reading it. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "\u201cYou could stab that guy in the alley and no one would notice.\u201d Said the unwelcome voice in his head. \u201cTake his purse. Buy some food. You deserve it..\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd his wife would probably notice he\u2019s missing, start an investigation- I just don\u2019t have that kind of time.\u201d The hero\u2019s stomach growled, but he wouldn\u2019t give into any voice in his head. Not even his own. \n\n\u201cAll the power in the world is available to you, slapping against your legs-\u201c\n\n\u201cThanks, pal.\u201d He said playfully.\n\nThe voice growled and grew hot in his head- of annoyance and embarrassment. \n\n\u201cI am talking about *me*. Through *me* you could have all the power in the world, yet you leave me tied against your waist.\u201d It snarled, trying to shave away the moral walls in the hero\u2019s mind.\n\n\u201cI didn\u2019t think swords could have penises.\u201d He said aloud as he passed a trio maidens shopping, who looked at him befuddled. The hero smiled politely and waved.\n\nNow the voice was creating a storm within his brain, bringing on a searing headache. The hero merely winced but kept walking through the marketplace, focusing on his hunger and for a bite to eat.\n\n\u201cDO YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE INSULTING?!\u201d The sword thundered.\n\n\u201cI really don\u2019t, and I wouldn\u2019t care to know. Now hush before I bury you in a forgotten well full of dirt.\u201d He said with a strained expression.\n\nThe storm fell away and the sword conceded, giving the hero a moment to look at his surroundings. This village in particular was quiet. In the hustle and bustle under the setting sun, this was probably his best chance to sneak something to eat.\n\nHe didn\u2019t consider himself a thief. Food was created from the planet, so why should he pay for it? Because someone else claimed it?\n\nMostly because he was broke. Always broke. But only because money was a human concept and one he didn\u2019t agree with.\n\n\u201cWhy have you kept me, then?\u201d The sword asked.\n\n\u201cGotta have a sword. They\u2019re hella expensive and the guy who had you last wasn\u2019t using it anymore.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe was dead.\u201d \n\n\u201cYeah, that\u2019s what I said.\u201d He retorted. The sword did not like his new owner, but wasn\u2019t willing to give up on a challenge.\n\n\u201cSo what is ultimate power to you?\u201d The sword asked him.\n\n\u201cFreedom to do what I want, without much effort.\u201d He replied.\n\n\u201cLike\u2026a king? I can make you a king.\u201d \n\n\u201c*That* is way too much effort. Plus, I\u2019m not a killer. Bad luck for you.\u201d He said and the sword fell away again.\n\nThe hero\u2019s luck, however, had changed. A weary and bloodied salesman was riding by in a horse drawn carriage. His cargo had been struck with arrows, no doubt from wood bandits. And falling out the end of his carriage was an abundance of fruit. Children were grabbing them as they fell, laughing happily. \n\nHe quickly and slyly kicked a few apples into the air and caught them in his gi shirt pocket. He winked at the kid who saw him and whistled away to an alley, unnoticed by any adults.\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re a bottom feeder.\u201d The sword insulted.\n\n\u201cI like the term *opportunist.*\u201d he corrected as he took a bite.\n\nHe thought about the friends he left back home as he ate his dinner. Nobody was really free anymore, and it did bother him that he abandoned so many. But would they do anything for him? \n\nThen he thought about what the sword meant about *ultimate power.* \n\n\u201c\u2026so what is the ultimate power?\u201d He asked.\n\n\u201cLet me taste blood and you\u2019ll find out.\u201d \n\n\u201c\u2026What if it\u2019s my own blood?\u201d He asked.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The beginning of your story is very strong. You set the scene well and introduce the reader to the conflict immediately. I like the way you use dialogue to further the conflict and introduce the reader to the characters. However, the middle of the story feels a bit rushed. You introduce the idea of the ultimate power and the sword's quest for blood, but it feels like this could be developed further.\n\nThe end of the story is also strong. You bring the conflict to a conclusion and leave the reader with a thought-provoking question. Overall, I think you have a lot of potential as a writer. I would encourage you to develop your ideas further and to focus on your descriptions and imagery."}
{"prompt": "Part 1 of ??? - CW: Gore, death, consequences of war, casual swearing, gaslighting (It's a cursed sentient sword, that's their MO)  \n\n  \n\"I'M THE GODS-DAMNED HERO, AND YOU-\" were the last words out of my host's mouth before it was replaced by the black, corrosive sanguine fluid that spilled from his punctured lungs and up his throat. A pity. One a fine princeling with delusions of heroism, then a tyrant-king who slaughtered all before him, now just another ashen corpse among many. Such is life. He was replaced quickly.\n\n\"Well now you're dead, so shut the fuck up,\" the wandering warrior, covered in scars and aged far too quickly for his time, spat without sympathy as he took his blade from the sheath of greyed flesh. He smirked in expected displeasure to find his old steel armament melting in the viscous bile that flowed through my host's veins. \"Shit.\"\n\nWithout thought or care, he took me from the skeletal hand of the tyrant-king, that should have been his downfall. SHOULD HAVE BEEN.\n\n\"*Thank you for freeing me, mighty hero!*\" I spoke into his heart, in a flash of light I turned from a curved and jagged wretch of blackened metal to an exact image of his ideal blade: A simple, straightened sword of undecor'd steel, scratched yet sturdy like his dented armour. \"*Rejoice, for I am a blessed relic! Your heart is pure, your hand swift, allow me to join ye on thine-*\"\n\n\"Oh, nice, a cursed sword. Lemme guess, this\" he gestured to the dark throne room decorated with old skeletons and fresh corpses, \"is your fault?\"\n\n\"*I... Have no idea what you are talking about! I am the Blade of Saint-*\" \"Save it.\" he interrupted as he sheathed me into the scabbard that once held his previous weapon. It was a perfect fit in my current form. \"Just keep quiet and we'll get along just fine.\"\n\n\"*As you wish, mine own saviour...*\"\n\nIt didn't take long after my previous host's demise and my new host's introduction to me for the leaders of this rebellion to come into the throne room. A cabal of rich men, clergymen, lesser nobles, all with delusions of democracy.\n\n\"Brave Sir Ritter, you've done it!\" a man of little importance and ego as inflated as his stomach called out, moving forwards before the sickly, aged frame of the high priest stepped forward as well, stopping the rich man's path with his staff.\n\n\"Thanks to you, we are free to put in place the suffrage of man, and bring prosperity back to our humble city-state! May the All-Father bless you in all your endeavours, Sir Ritter!\"\n\n\"Yeah, whatever,\" this old wandering mercenary, Johanne Ritter, said with little pomp or fanfare, \"This was your revolution, it's my job. Job's done, just get my pay together and meet me at the inn. If nobody blew it to bits with a cannonball, anyways.\"\n\nWith that, he left the throne room to let the revolutionary cabal bicker amongst themselves over minutia and rank. \"*They are fools, Johanne,*\" I whispered, \"*Corrupt, greedy, vile fools.*\"\n\n\"Yep,\" was his response.\n\n\"*Do these fair people not deserve better? The king, he was cruel, but his father, he was a man of great renown, of nobility and generosity. It is said that where democracy goes, bloodshed will follow; Tis only the wolves allowing the sheep to choose who shall devour them, now that the shepherd's head is decorating the cathedral.*\"\n\n\"Mhm,\" the wanderer shrugged, not a proper answer, a statement dripping in smarm that spoke unto me 'I am ignoring you.'\n\n\"*They are battling amongst each other already, I can see it. You could be the one to stop this vile lie, to restore order that the tyrant-king sto-*\"\n\n\"You talk too much.\"\n\n\"*KILL THEM, BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE! KILL THEM ALL! TAKE THE THRONE! BE THE MAN WHO YOU WERE MEANT TO BE!* ***KING*** *JOHANNE, FIRST OF HIS NAME, FIRST OF THE RITTER DYNASTY!*\"\n\n\"Nah. I did what I gotta do, and if they stiff me on the bill, I got collateral. I can just sell off their jewels next town over.\"\n\n\"*Very wise, very wise! Your father, he was a banker, a dove in a profession of snakes, you learnt from his mistakes, he never got collateral.*\"\n\n\"Hit the nail on the head, as cursed swords tend to do. Now quiet down, we're heading into the public,\" he admonished me as he stepped from one empty hallway to the entrance hall of the palace where the dead and dying soldiers were being tended to by their brethren.\n\n\"*This is as much their fault as his, Ritter. They need to pay!*\"\n\n\"They've already paid,\" he whispered behind the hand that stroked his chin. He moved past the corpses and soon-to-be without making a scene. The most emotion was a sympathetic gaze to a man who happened to lock eyes with him. In that half-second, kindness broke through his callused facade, and then out onto the wartorn streets we went.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has potential, but there are definitely areas that need improvement. For starters, your opening sentence is confusing and does not immediately hook the reader. It also does not give us a clear idea of what the story is going to be about. Try to be more concise and to the point in your opening sentence.\n\nYour descriptions could also be more vivid. In the opening scene, for example, you describe the black, corrosive sanguine fluid, but you don't really give us a clear idea of what it looks like or how it smells. Try to be more specific in your descriptions.\n\nFinally, your dialogue could use some work. In many places, it feels stiff and unnatural. Try to make your dialogue sound more natural and conversational.\n\nOverall, there is potential in your story, but it definitely needs some work. Keep up the good work and keep revising!"}
{"prompt": "My handler sheaths me back into the scabbard.\n\n\"You enjoyed the bloodshed, didn't you...\" I intoned in his ear.\n\nThe knight simply straightens his posture, casting aloof glances to the mercenaries he has dispatched. \n\n\"It matters not. This is just how everyone ends up anyway.\"\n\nI let out an annoyed sigh. When this lowly knave found my cave twelve months prior, I relished another patron to twist to my desire.  Clay to mold to my whim. An avatar to exact my revenge on this cursed land, and finally release me from my centuries in imprisonment...\n\nBut this man, Finneas. He came to me pre-broken. And he has refused me on every opportunity. He is as steadfast as the mightiest hero who held my hilt. And infinitely more annoying. \n\nA low groan shifts our attention to our immediate left. A boy in scuffed clothes sits up and massages his head. When his eyes meet the gaze of my companion, he springs to his feet and begins to cheer.\n\n\"Amazing! You are truly like how the rumors say! You took on six bandits by yourself! Take me as your apprentice!\"\n\nThe boy kept blabbering in his shrill voice and began to dance around my captor. Luckily, Finneas was finding our adoring fan as annoying as me.\n\n\"Gregory. Settle down, we need to head back to your village. Can you lead us...me back?\"\n\nThe boy's faded smile returns to his face. \n\n\"Sure! And afterwards, you can teach me a few tricks with the blade you're carrying!\"\n\n\"Gregory. I don't think that's a goo-\"\n\nThe boy gives a pleading look. Finneas sighs. \n\n\"Alright. I'll do it. Let's get moving.\"\n\nGregory begins to talk at high speed again, much to my chagrin. But one small thing is apparent to me. \n\nFinneas is smiling.\n\nAnd I know why. This boy reminds him of his deceased younger brother. The tragic memory that clouded his worldview and turned him into the stoic golem that he is today.\n\nBut with this boy, there may be a light in the darkness. A fire to warm the embers of his soul.\n\nA weakness that I can exploit. \n\nI will allow the growing brotherhood with this... Gregory to fester. I will allow my charge to lower his guard. \n\nAnd so, I will gain my avatar. And all shall pay for their ancestral misdeeds against me.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are a few areas that could be improved. First, your sentences are often choppy and could be combined to create smoother, more flowing prose. Additionally, you could work on developing your characters more fully - right now they feel a bit one-dimensional. Finally, watch your grammar and punctuation - there are a few errors throughout the story.\n\nOverall, you have a solid foundation for a good story. With a few tweaks, it could be really great."}
{"prompt": "A gold diped guard, rubys in the pommel. A gift for a warlord, and I was his greatist foe. The blade forged red hot was quenched in my living heart. And so I have inhabited that stretch of steel. I have revenged myself again and again. I tisted the Warlord's heart and turned him on his own wretched empire. And each who came after became my puppet. This night as the moon lay between to mounds of cloud a new hand pries me from my last sorry owner.\n\nI beguin slowly, I whisper in the back of her mind. I wait untill they are desperate, in need of my power. When she lay in the darkest chasim, persued by her worst enemy, their eyes overtaken with tiers of shame and rage! I speak softly \"I will make you great, I will give you what you need. I will make all your problems go away\" and she held me with cracked fingers and answerd through broken teeth \"Not likely\".\n\nShe clawed and clambored her way out of hell. She drove me into a hundred hearts. Not as an instrument of death, but as if I were a leagth of bottle glass. She didn't kill as a scythe cuts flowers, she vandalised their bodies with cuts. She traded pain and wounds with them till she was standing in a pool of her own blood, laughing! and her enemies where laying in that same mingled pool quiet evermore.\n\nAll the while I promised, I wheedled, I worked her heart with my words. I was ignored! This isn't how it goes, I make them strong, I make them kill all their enemies and their enemies families and their whole damn civilization. And then I make them go on killing till they awake from my dark dream coverd in their lover's blood. They kill one last time and I pass into the hands of another. Over and over, forever and forever! But she was diffrent.\n\n\"Why don't you want the power I can give\" I asked one day, I was so used to whispering it hurt to ask outright. \"Nothing's free\" the vandal said, cleaning muck off her boots. \"I ask for nothing\" I pleaded, \"Than that's what your help is worth.\" she said, and I was speachless, after a moment thinking vandal decided the silence was a question \"Look mate, today some hag gave me three bits to kill their husband's mistress. I killed the bint, and now I'm three bits ritcher\" she explained as to a child. I scoffed! A sword scoff \"I could make you a fortune, money is dust to me. I'll give you the world\" and she laughed \"I have the world, and it's full of scum and some of them will pay to kill the rest. If you offer me a world with more scum you're lying. They're all here\"\n\nShe weilded me for years, my power grew feint, my rage grew dim. She needed me to be easier to hide, so she had my blade cut short. She sold my ruby pommel, and melted down my gold dipped guard. She rewrapped my hilt of human leather with quiet rough linen. Sometimes when it was quiet I became scared, knowing if she ever found a sharper knife I would be tossed away like a boot with a hole in it. But she died before that, as they all die.\n\nI wasn't a warlord's blade now. I was something she made me. A crude knife clutched in her cold and crooked hands. Her body lay old and dead in some tar stained allyway in a city with mud streets. That night, as the moon peaked between two tiled edifices a new hand pries me from my last sorry owner.\n\nThey are a thin wretch of a boy, born to a whore and a dead man. He's two missed meals away from death, doesn't even have a name. I begin slowly, I whisper in the back of his mind \"This world is full of scum, and some of them will pay you to kill the rest\".\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of your story is very strong, and immediately draws the reader in. You have a great sense of description, and your use of language is very evocative. However, there are a few areas where your prose could be improved. In particular, your sentence structure is sometimes choppy, and you could benefit from using more active verbs. For example, instead of saying \"The blade forged red hot was quenched in my living heart\", you could say \"The blade, forged red hot, was quenched in my living heart\". This would make your writing flow more smoothly.\n\nYou have a great imagination, and your story is very unique. I particularly like the way you describe the protagonist's relationship with the sword. However, there are a few areas where your writing could be more concise. In particular, you could cut down on some of the exposition in the middle of the story, and focus on moving the plot forward.\n\nOverall, you have written a very interesting and unique story. With a few minor tweaks to your prose, it could be even stronger."}
{"prompt": "This doesn't work;\n\nTaken from a Christian perspective, where several of these tales come from, the origin of the devil, as many have misunderstood, is not to \" take over heaven\" , but, to \" unmake\" reality, by making the word of god double back on it's self, so, he wouldn't have to exist.\n\nAka; satin is a suicidal bitch boy.\n\nTaken from the Japanese perspective, the only other I am familiar, with cursed swords existing in;\n\nThe cynicism could not be a hero, as, they would have no drive, to do \" great things\".\n\nFrom ether of the two perspectives I know, it is not possible for a cynisist to be a hero, as, they would pack the drive, to not be a \" dark one\" , from the get go. Aka; the swords job was done, before it got there.\n\nA realist; sure. They could establish there motive, and, be a realistic actor, changing the sword.\n\nA survivalist; definitely. As long as they were fighting for there own survival, they could bring that out in others, or, simply save the world, in order to live.\n\nHowever, a simple, pure, cynicist, is incapable of these actions.\n\nIf they were capable of them, they would not be a cynisist. They may \" declare\" themselves a cynisist, in the same way hilter declares themselves a socialist, or, a modern socialist, would declare america purely capitalist.\n\nHowever, if America is capitalist, with Medicare, Medicare, class 2, charitable businesses, and illegal / unenforceable contact appearances, through human rights violation, then, by the same token, Nazi Germany, must be socialist, as, they still largely delclaired themselves as such, and, in there twisted version, still trended to greatly follow socialist idea forms.\n\nLikewise, if Nazi Germany was not socialist, through lack of a \" pure\" socialism, then, by the same token; America isn't capitalist, due to lack of a \" pure\" capitalism .\n\nThe same here, must be said, of the cynical hero;\n\nIf the hero isn't corruptible, and, still a hero, then, they are not a cynicist.\n\nMeanwhile, if they are a cynisist, and , pre corrupted, taking everything in it's \" darkest\" , most fertile value, then, they are not a hero.\n\nThe prompt may as well propose; the sword cannot corrupt the hero, due to them being a train spotter\n\nOr\n\nThe sword cannot corrupt the hero, due to them being a pottery enthusiast.\n\nBoth of those may seem absurdist. However, they are FAR less contradictory, then, the cynisist, and,  a \" incorruptible hero\" , in the same token.\n\nA nhilist? Sure. There is a point where, if things have no meaning, you can argue, that, it's best to make your own.\n\nA realist? Definitely. Those who look at things from multiple viewpoints, and, account for realities \" stacked effects\" , contradictions, and path, is perfectly logical.\n\nBut, a cynisist? Who, by definition, must see the \" darkness\" in things, taking them to it's gloomiest tone, AND, think that realistic is pointless, without reward, and, to seek \" forward motion\" is folly?\n\nNow, THAT , I say, dear sir, is.... Is NO hero. : (\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " First, I want to commend you for having a clear understanding of the different perspectives of the devil's origin. I think you did a good job of explaining the Japanese perspective of the devil, and how a cynic could not be a hero. However, I think you could have been more concise in your explanation. I also think you could have given more examples to support your claims. For example, you could have given an example of a cynic being a hero, or you could have given an example of a realist being a hero. Overall, I think you did a good job of explaining the prompt, and I think you could have been more concise and given more examples to support your claims."}
{"prompt": "Maria eyed off the distance, trying to materialise a figure to Sophia's question. \n'I've lost count, well into the hundreds.'\n\nSophia nodded, sipping her gin and tonic. She could see it, a beautiful older woman such as her would still be popular with gentleman. Hell, even younger men would want to tussle with her. \n\n'So no figure, but surely some memorable ones?' \n\n'Oh yes, but not for the reasons you may think. I recall one in particular. I'd just finished a man off when his wife walked in.'\n\nSophia's eyes widened. 'No way! What'd you do?'\n\n'What do you think? Did the same to her then left.'\n\nSophia loved that she'd swing both ways.\n\n'Guess that marriage didn't last.' \n\n'Ended quicker than I finished him off.' \n\nThey shared a laugh, Sophia still admiring Maria's graceful aging. \n\n'I've ended a few marriages too. Caught in the act in hot tubs, hotel rooms, the marital bedrooms.'\n\n'And you're still not in jail?' Maria now the one in shock. 'That's sloppy work. You want to be in this business as long as I have you'll need to finesse your skills.'\n\n'I guess nobody wants to air their dirty laundry. Besides, I don't mind it sloppy.' Remarked Sophia with a sly wink.\n\n'Each to their own I suppose.' \n\nThey clinked glasses downed their drinks and went about their not so dissimilar lives, given they both finished people off, in their own style.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of this story is interesting and Maria and Sophia seem like they could be interesting characters. I would like to see more development of their relationship and why they are talking to each other about their work. The story feels a bit choppy in places and could use more development overall.\n\nSophia's admiring of Maria's gracefulness is a nice touch. I would like to see more description of the setting and the characters throughout the story.\n\nThe ending of the story is a bit abrupt and I'm not sure what the point of the story is. Is it to show that Maria is a better assassin than Sophia? I'm not sure. In any case, I think the story needs more development overall."}
{"prompt": "I'd been watching the woman in red for a while now and it had only taken me about half an hour to realise that she was likely in the same line of work as me. In films assassins are ugly, disfigured or tattooed all over but in reality the people who suit it best often fall into one of two different appearances. Either they are average, so incredibly average that you could see them every day for a year and still struggle to describe them, or they are so breathtakingly attractive that people let their guard down around them. The woman in red was definitely, completely the second of these types.\n\n_____\n\nThe well dressed man in the corner had been watching me almost since I'd arrived. I'm very much used to it - first they take a good look at me, think I'm pretty, admire the view. Then some point after that they start to put together little pieces of information; I'm alone, it's a revealing dress, bars like this often have escorts, etc. But even then, you can't just *ask* someone if they're a hooker, can you? What if I'm not? What if I am, but that breaks some kinda unknown etiquette? So in the end, I generally have to make the first move.\n\n_____\n\nAfter ordering herself another drink the woman in red approached my booth. Either she has decided for certain that her mark is a no-show or she thinks I'm the one she's meant to kill and that, that could be very interesting.\n\n\"May I join you?\" She asked and I nodded my agreement.\n\n\"My name's Tessa.\" She offered, briefly resting her purse on the table as she shuffled across.\n\nThe purse was only there for a second before she placed it back by her side but it was more than enough time for me to glance inside.\n\n\"I'm John. Nice gun you've got there.\"\n\nTessa smiled.\n\n\"Well, line of work I'm in it's a useful thing to have. Just in-\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" I said, interrupting without meaning to, \"I think we're in the same line of work.\"\n\n______\n\nI'd only said 'in my line of work' so he had an easy way to ask what I did but as soon as John said that he was an escort too, I felt a little silly for not considering it. This bar is a known place for business men to pick up a little bit of after hours entertainment and John certainly had the looks to be successful. Truth be told, I haven't met a massive amount of male escorts and the ones I have are a little more showy but if you wanted to get fucked by James Bond, John would be perfect.\n\n\"Oh.\" I said and then started to laugh. \"Of course we are. You working tonight then?\"\n\n\"Nope. Not for a while, actually. Bit of a holiday. You?\"\n\nI gestured around the bar.\n\n\"I thought so but look. All groups and couples.\" I thought about it. \"Not that I haven't done couples, but it has to be the *right* couple, you know?\"\n\n_____\n\nI did know. It was very rare that there was a contract for a couple but what happened a little more often was that it didn't really matter if the mark's partner ended up dead or not. And sometimes it's just easier that way and I have to admit that on occasions where the spouse was as messed up as the mark, my trigger finger gets a little itchier on those nights. What Tessa said next though completely threw me.\n\n\"Hm, and I guess it's not like I've never done a group either.\"\n\nWho the hell gets a contract for a whole group? Either it was just that we operated in very different circles or Tessa was considerably better at her job than I am.\n\n\"You must be good.\" I said, just to fill the silence. \"Can't say I've ever done a group.\"\n\nTessa shrugged as she took another sip of her drink.\n\n\"Different clients want different things I guess. And I'm guessing we work with pretty different people. I'm sure you have excellent selling points of your own.\"\n\nYou don't really meet coworkers too often in this line of work so I found myself suddenly falling over myself to impress Tessa.\n\n\"Yeah, I'm not bad. I'm discreet and I'm very, very quick. Nothing gets dragged out with me.\"\n\n_____\n\nI was sipping my whiskey again as John spoke so when he said the word 'quick' it was an effort not to splutter. Discreet makes sense but *quick?* I've never had a client ask if we could somehow take less time and I can't say that it's something I've ever wanted either.\n\n\"How... nice for you.\" I said, but not overly convincingly and he instantly noticed. \"Sorry, it's just not something that's ever been requested of me, to speed things along. Different clients, as I said. Most of mine seem to think that more time means they got more of their money's worth, I find.\"\n\nJohn looked confused.\n\n\"You make it last longer than it needs to?\"\n\n\"Well, that's a matter of perspective. I make it last however long the client wants. Not to mention, sometimes there are requests for things that aren't super fast. You know, whips, handcuffs, et cetera.\"\n\n_____\n\nI'm not naive, I knew that whilst most assassins are contracted just to kill there are those who deal with requests that include torture. But they're a rare breed and I honestly didn't think I'd ever meet one. But here Tessa was, talking about drawn out deaths and whipping her marks in an easy, carefree manner that left me reeling.\n\"Is that all in a day's work for you?\"\n\nShe laughed.\n\n\"Of course! Do you seriously never get requests like that?\"\n\n\"No. They generally want me fast, discreet and invisible.\"\n\nTessa looked at me sympathetically.\n\n\"Oh, it's like that. People's attitudes about this are so backwards sometimes.\"\n\n\"I guess?\" I said, although I really didn't quite know what she meant. \"I think perhaps you have a different experience, maybe you're just recommended for people who want the weird stuff.\"\n\nShe bristled at this and drew back away from me ever so slightly.\n\n\"It's not like that. Very little of what I do is 'weird' and frankly I think that's a very backwards term for someone like you to be using anyway. Most times it's just fucking.\"\n\n_____\n\nJohn looked at me strangely.\n\n\"You have sex with all of them?\"\n\nThe question threw me for a loop.\n\n\"Well I guess technically not all, sometimes a client realises that's not what they really want or...\" I trailed off as I realised what he meant. \"You don't at all, do you? Shit, you aren't an escort.\"\n\nJohn laughed so hard the table shook and after the increasing levels of unease that laughter was infectious. Soon, I was giggling alongside him, both of us breaking into fresh bouts of laughter whenever we met the other's eyes.\n\n\"Oh god, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to offend you or anything - I just thought you were like me. You're probably awesome as an escort.\"\n\n\"Hey, what is it *you* thought we both did then? What's your job?\"\n\nJohn smirked.\n\n\"Librarian?\" He suggested and then shook his head when it was clear I was having none of it. \n\"Nah, sorry. I'm a hitman. I kill people for money.\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has potential, but there are some areas that need work. First, you need to work on your dialogue. It sounds stiff and unnatural. Second, your characters need more development. They feel one-dimensional. Finally, your plot needs more tension and conflict. Right now, it feels slow and predictable.\n\nOn the positive side, I like your use of description. Your writing is clear and concise. And you have a good handle on grammar and punctuation. Overall, there is potential here. With some revision, your story could be really good."}
{"prompt": "\"Only two?\" Lane held back a scoff. Jorge eyed them bitterly over the full rocks glass and sighed.\n\n\"Well it's not so simple to build up a count, right? You've got to do the research, you've got to put in the time. You've got to vet your sources, make sure the money is clean, yeah? You've gotta be on top of these things!\" Jorge exclaimed. \"Only two, psh.\"\n\n\"I just don't know that I've put that much thought into it. It's not that deep, right?\" Lane said, trying to make nice.\n\n\"Not that deep?!\" Jorge was outraged but kept his voice down. \"You think it's easy, think it's a game? How many you got?\"\n\nLane blushed.\n\n\"Well I don't have my little black book with me--\"\n\n\"How many?\" Jorge interrupted. They both glanced around the bar, checking to make sure there was no unwanted attention.\n\n\"At least 100 over the years.\" Lane admitted.\n\nJorge gulped down his drink, wide-eyed and a little impressed.\n\n\"100? Over the years?\" He gasped.\n\n\"I mean yeah. Like I said I don't take it THAT seriously. Sometimes I shut myself off and go autopilot, get it down as quick as I can.\" Lane explained. \"Don't get me wrong, I love it, always have. Sometimes I get so into it even *I* get off!\"\n\nJorge gawped at Lane, absolutely stunned. Lane got off while taking care of a job?! Jorge had never heard such a thing, if you didn't count sexually fucked up serial killer podcast explanations.\n\n\"I don't even know what to say to that...\" Jorge muttered.\n\n\"Don't be such a prude, you're telling me you've never gotten off on the job? Neither of the two clients turned you on at all?\" Lane asked, teasing. Lane chewed on the end of the thin stir-straw in another almost-empty glass in a long line of empty glasses. Slow nights in the hotel were the worst.\n\n\"That's not...I don't...\" Jorge tried to think. Lane sounded weird, and sloppy. That kind of behavior on a job could reveal them BOTH and Jorge had no intention to be busted for his own \"little black book list\", small body count or not.\n\n\"That's not what I do it for.\" Jorge finally said.\n\nLane sighed, chewing on the stir-straw and eyeing a plain looking man at the end of the bar. Middle aged, salt-and-pepper hair, no jewelry. Clothes were fashionable but not ritzy; nothing spoke to Jorge that identified this man as a wealthy or political mark. What was Lane's game? Just go around and do whoever? \n\n\"Honey, it ain't always about the money.\" Lane said, tossing Jorge a kiss before sauntering over to the boring man. \n\n\"Who the fuck trained you?\" Jorge muttered to the empty seat beside him, horrified by Lane's open approach of the client and planning a smooth exit of his own. He wanted nothing to do with that mess.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are a few areas that could use some improvement. First, your dialogue sounds a bit stiff and unnatural. You might want to try reading it aloud to see how it sounds, and make sure that the characters are speaking in their own unique voices. Additionally, your story could use a bit more description to help set the scene and create a more immersive experience for the reader. Don't be afraid to use a few more adjectives and adverbs to help paint a picture in the reader's mind.\n\nOverall, I think you have a lot of great ideas in this story, and with a bit of fine-tuning, it could be really great. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "My mark sitting in front of me was ridiculously pretty.  I felt like she might be difficult to get to commit, but she had all the signals of not only being a high paying mark, but an eager one who might become a regular.  That was fine with me, repeat customers are, well, easier.  To be honest, I wasn't sure why we were having a conversation like this.\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\nI couldn't believe how my contact was pushing the hard sell.  They was really good at working the line.  I knew to her, I was a fish on a hook, and that was fine.  No reason, because I was absolutely going to commit to their sales pitch, it would make it easier.   More on that later.\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\nWe made small talk I wasn't normally the kind to 'play with my food', but something about them, I couldn't help myself.  \"So, what's your *Body Count*? \" I mused as I took a sip of my ginger ale.\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\n\"*Body count*? That's an oddly specific question.\"  I wasn't sure how to answer, had I been made?\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\n\"You know how many you've done...\"  their eyes scouted the room as it to be looking for anyone eavesdropping. \"I'll tell you mine to start with and remove some of the tension.\"  Again, a look to see the bartender wasn't paying active attention to the pair of us. \"172 paid, a few less than that, pro-bono, or just for fun.\"\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\nWas this woman a serial killer on top of contract one?  \"Well, wow. I'm not slut-shaming here, because what a woman does with her body is her business, well, and the IRS's, amiright?\"  I leaned in, \" Well I'm a little new to this side of the coin.  Nineteen...  \"  I hid my face in my hands\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\n\"Oh Hon, that's nothing to be ashamed of.  Why, that's admirable.  I bet you remember the look on each one of their faces.\" 19, wow, she's practically a virgin.\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\n\"Of course, well, those I could see their faces before I took my shot.\"  I looked around, people had filtered in and out of the bar.  It was almost empty and the path to the door was clear.  I couldn't  let this go too much longer.  \"Were all of yours up close and personal?  I mean, you'd still have to remember their faces, it's such a *personal* act.  Even if it is *business*.\"\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\n\"Took your shot?  Are you...\" I wanted to say this delicately, because I didn't want to embarrass myself or them. \"packin'?\" and looked directly at her lap.\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\n\"Always...\" I said with a smile.  I think she thought I was a trans... She is going to be very disappointed later.\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\nOh good, she's hot and has equipment.  I bet it will be fun.\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\nI felt bad, she thought she was getting two things, and really, only getting a third that she would not be wanting.  As I looked for my opportunity, I grabbed my hidden syringe and leaned in.  She turned her legs toward me, and I used that as my opportunity.  I quickly gave her the jab at the base of her skull when I leaned in for what she thought was a stolen kiss.\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\n\"Ow, what was that.  wait... what is happening.\" I felt  like a bee sting in the back of my head as they leaned in to kiss me.  I knew I was going to get paid that night, and probably a lot, but now I felt woozy.  \n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\n\"Oh dear, you've had too much to drink.  Just sit here a moment and I'll go get you some thing refreshing. \"  I stood up, I watched her put her head on the bar.  The bartender was not paying attention here, and I used that opportunity to slip out.  \"Number 20\" I said under my breath.  This one would pay well, since a jealous wife wanted ALL distractions gone before she divorced her cheating husband.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are some areas that could be improved. First, your dialogue feels a little stilted and unnatural. Make sure to have your characters speak in a way that sounds natural and realistic. Additionally, your story could benefit from more description. Use vivid language to describe your characters, setting, and action. Finally, watch your grammar and punctuation. Make sure to proofread your work before submitting it.\n\nOverall, you have a lot of potential as a writer. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "Man 1: Overhears Man 2 talking to someone (ex:server/bartender) about how tired he is after...\"Hey man props to you for having the guts to talk about it, to a stranger, in public no less.\"  \n\nMan 2: shrugs \"I guess. I got used to it after some time. It's nothing to be embarassed about, just different interests to sustain ourseleves. I'd be concerned if he was government though.\" (Man 2 says chuckling a little)\n\nMan 1: \"Oh... can I buy you a beer?\"\n\nMan 2: \"Sure.\"\n\nMan 2 gets seated next to Man 1 who shifts a little.\n\nMan 1: \"So who was your best... body?\"\n\nMan 2:\"Oh... I didn't really pay attention to that. Like I said, it's an interest, I enjoy it, but it's also just a job.\"\n\nMan 1: \"Really? What's your body count?\" \n\nMan 2: \"I don't know. Could be 256, 243, 317 etc, no clue.\"\n\nMan 1:\"You're lying.\"\n\nMan 2: shakes head\n\nMan 1: \"Wow, so how long have you spent in jail?\"\n\nMan 2: \"I've never been arrested, to this date at least.\"\n\nMan 1: \"Woah, really! That's very impressive. How did you do it?\"\n\nMan 2: \"Huh? The regular way I suppose. Many of us don't get arrested you know.\"\n\nMan 1: \"A gun? What do you mean?\" \n\nMan 2: \"No! What? What kinda sicko are you?\"\n\nMan 1: \"What do you mean! A gun is quicker, and, far less painful.\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " You have a few typos in your story that you'll want to fix before submitting it anywhere. For example, you have \"ex:server/bartender\" instead of \"e.g., server/bartender.\" Additionally, you have \"to sustain ourseleves\" instead of \"to sustain ourselves.\" These typos can be easily fixed with a quick proofread before you submit your story anywhere.\n\nAside from the typos, I think you have a good story here. I like the conversation between the two men, and I think you did a good job of creating tension between them. Additionally, I think the ending is a good twist. Overall, good job!"}
{"prompt": "Sweat dripped down my nose, mingling with the blood that poured from my mouth. This wasn't going as well as it could. At least my headphones were still in one piece. \n\nThe man that stood before me cackled. I had never quite understood what it meant for one to 'cackle'. I figured it had just mean to laugh in an evil matter, but it was so much more in the flesh. It hurt to hear, almost as hard as the fists and feet that had pummeled me. \n\n\"Is this all you can do, WalkMan?\" He jeered. \"Is this the man that defends his city? Pathetic.\" He shot a glare at the nearest news crew, making sure to look directly at the camera. \"This is what you get for trusting a 'hero'. This is what anyone that defies me will get. Bow before me, or perish beneath me!\"\n\nHe turned back to me, raising both of his fists above his head, preparing to strike with all of his power. I knew what I had to do. \n\n\"Hey Siri\" I said, coughing and spitting out another tooth. The bluetooth headphones chirped in response, acknowledging that it had heard my prompt.\n\n\"Play Forbidden Loop Omega\"\n\nThe chirp sounded again in acknowledgement. I stood on my one good leg, bracing a hand on the wall to support the broken leg. The man cackled again. \n\n\"So you choose to die on your feet. How noble.\"\n\nAs he brought his glowing fists down towards my head, the music swelled in my ears. I brought up one hand and caught the blow with ease. With one quick motion, I broke both of his wrists. \n\nHe boggled at me. \"No, NO, NONONONO!\" He wailed. \"How?\"\n\nI met his terrified gaze with a blank expression. I couldn't show any emotion. Not with this terrible noise assaulting my ears.\n\nWith another twist, I ripped his arms from their sockets. I heard the gasps from the camera crews as they captured every gruesome detail in stunning 4K definition, if their commercials could be believed. \n\n\"Dr Doomsday, you are hereby under arrest.\" I spoke in an even tone, straining to keep my emotions under control. \"Officers, take him away.\" I turned and strode away, before a reporter or police officer could ask me any potentially compromising questions. \n\nAs I strode to the parking garage where my personal car was parked, I fumbled with my phone, desperate to stop the song that was consuming me. Bringing me to a dark place. \n\n\"We can do it, if we try\" I mumbled along, as my fingers typed my password. The Cocomelon song was almost a greater pain in my ears than sung through my broken jaw and missing teeth.\n\n\n\n\nr/SlightlyColdStories if you want. Or don't. It's all up to you.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has potential, but there are some areas that could use improvement. For one, your sentences are often choppy and could be combined to create smoother, more flowing prose. Additionally, your dialogue could be more natural and less on-the-nose. In other words, your characters should sound like real people talking, rather than robots reciting lines.\n\nOne area where you did well was in your descriptions. Your readers can easily visualize the scene and the actions taking place. This is an important skill for a writer to have, so keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "\"Damnit, this guy keeps going!\" I thought to myself, crouched behind the half destroyed concrete wall of the building we'd been fighting in.\n\nI'd gone into this fight with the usual Mozart pouring into my head from the bone conducting speakers in my mask.  It looked better than the airpods I'd started out with, and I was far less likely to lose an entire mask.  The classical helped me think things through, and it's amazing how often a situation can be defused by some quick thinking.\n\nI'd immediately had to switch to my DDR playlist when I found myself dodging a swiftly thrown car moments after my arrival.  I always felt a little lacking immediately after switching to something other than classical, but I desperately needed the speed boost.  It's the only reason I survived the next few minutes of utter chaos.  I had yet to even see my opponent.  It was merely me, trying desperately to avoid the varied, insanely heavy items thrown at me in an almost constant stream.  I had never dealt with a villain with this level of strength, this level of stamina before.\n\n\"He just keeps going!\" \n\nI moved my left thumb against the pad along my left index finger, scrolling through my various playlists.  I didn't have the time to stop and think, so classical was out.  The speed boost of DDR had gotten me to this stalemate, but no further.\n\n\"Prog? No, don't need precision.  Flamenco/tango? Footwork could help, but only if I could get in close enough.\"\n\nMy thoughts were interrupted as a light post appeared suddenly through the wall next to me, apparently thrown like a javelin.  He's changed his tactics, it would seem.\n\n\"Waltz? Grace won't help. House? No technology to control in this rubble. Country? I'm in the city, not a lot of animals to control nearby either.\"\n\nAnother lamppost speared the concrete on my other side.  He was boxing me in, it seemed.\n\n\"Oh hell, I don't have a choice!  I'm gonna have to use THIS!\"\n\nI double-tapped my thumb, finally making my selection.  The electronic music thumping through my skull cut out immediately, and in it's place a song I'd avoided at all costs started it's intro.  I felt the power slam into my body, burning through my veins.  It was intoxicating.  I was ready.  I stepped onto lamppost number three that occupied the space I had been crouched in a moment before, and from there onto the top of the wall to face my opponent.\n\nThe music coursed through me.\n\nI threw a single fist towards what appeared to be an incredibly startled man in a mech suit with four arms, two of which are aiming yet another lamppost at my makeshift cover.  A single flash, and where his body had been was nothing.  A smoking wreckage surrounding a bloody hole where his cockpit had once been.\n\nMy headphones wailed.\n\n\"ONE PUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNCCCCHHHH...\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The story started out strong with the protagonist's thoughts about their opponent. I liked the use of classical music to help the protagonist think things through and the switch to DDR when things got hectic. However, I felt like the story lost a bit of steam when the protagonist started listing off different types of music. It felt a bit clunky and interrupted the flow of the story.\n\nThe ending was also a bit abrupt and anti-climactic. I would suggest adding a bit more description and detail to make the ending more satisfying. Overall, this was a well-written story with a few minor hiccups."}
{"prompt": "Music is one of the greatest human feats.  Engineering and science are great, don't get me wrong.  I like my air conditioning as much as the next guy.  But there are songs we sing and tunes we hum that connect us to thousands of generations of those who went before us, and no earthquake or tsunami can erase the magic.  Music connects us in visceral ways, and people from across the globe from each other can genuinely connect and feel empathy for one another when listening to something unfamiliar with either of them.  Music reminds us of our common humanity.  \n\nMusic is power.  It is the driving force that unites movements and defines generations.  I don't mean in just the cultural touchstone sense, either.  It is very real power.  Psychic, metaphysical power.  I am able to open myself to that power, to that flow.  Since I was little, music allowed me to do things that baffled my parents.  A simple soothing voice humming dropped me to restful healing sleep instantly.  Singing along in the car to my dad's \u201croad songs\u201d, and we'd somehow wind up where we were going hours early.  My school's fight song had my football team winning championships left and right, though it was a bit of a challenge to get the band director to play it before the touchdown.  \n\nThe older I've become, the more I've realized that my powers can be tailored.  I can boost my speed and power with battle hymns and old martial music.  A dangerous and frantic crowd is no match for my calming presence while playing a string quartet's  light etude.  I have even used the US Air Force's official song to boost me over a swollen river to rescue some stranded hikers in danger of being washed away.  I didn't set out to be a superhero, but I just kind of fell into it, playing the music and getting things done.  I think perhaps these powers are only really at their apex because of technology.  I can play music in earbuds from a vast remote library of stuff I have collected.  Meticulous sorting and indexing helps me switch rapidly, and my own love of music helps me remember songs to sing to myself and get pumped when electronics fail.  \n\nI don't let on that the music powers me.  I've graduated, so to speak, from fighting natural disasters and cats in trees to the actual villains running roughshod through the world.  No need to let them know that without music, without the ability even to sing, or drum, or connect to that power, I'm fairly normal.  My superhero name is Steve.  It has nothing to do with music, and really, who wants a name like \u201cThe Tune\u201d, or \u201cMusic Man\u201d, or (as my smart-ass dad once suggested) \u201cHero who can't remember to take the garbage out\u201d?\n\nThis job, for what it's worth as a job, has gotten harder, you know.  Tailoring the music to the villain and the situation is always a challenge.  I show up and start rocking through some metal and thrash music, and villains stop showing up to fight.  They send henchmen, or even worse, unwilling proxies.  Keeping my head on a swivel while I try not to hurt those who have been duped, looking for the real threat to adjust a playlist on the fly isn't easy.  Switching from a classical aria to help focus my wits to get me deep inside a hideout to a gospel hymn of protection when bullets start to fly takes a lot of concentration and skill.\n\nBut there was that one... thing.  Villain, yes.  Man?  Woman?  I don't think it was really either.  Someone had made a pact or agreement with something out of time and space.  Something Lovecraftian and eldritch.  It didn't follow the rules of villainy.  No speeches.  No monologuing.  It didn't really conquer, so much as enslave, then consume.  By the time people were really aware of how awful this thing was, it had metastasized into a constantly-shifting mass that exerted its twisted will through psychic and physical force.  One minute, it might be a towering being with flailing tentacles, and another, it might be an manifestation of wind and power, sucking energy out of nearby sources.\n\nHow do you fight something like that?  It had to be stopped, and it was obvious that I had to try.  I had flown there on a raft of Air Force service songs and marches.  I even hurried my way with some sci-fi speed music (Star Trek themes are great for warping along).  Moving as fast as I was, I punched through it like a me-sized bullet, tearing a great gout of blackness out of it.  Then I was on the ground, covered in that blackness, feeling my will draining out of me.  I had to switch to some of my favorite motivational songs, the ones that get clubs jumping, just to stand up and untangle myself.  By the time I had, it was aware of me and moving at me.  \n\nTentacles and thrown objects rained down around me, and I had to get defensive just to survive the onslaught.  I tried my blackest metal to get in fast and try to destroy its physical form.  It evanesced into steam and lightning and attacked me with energy, all while trying to erode my mind.  I needed something that would let me fight this thing back with my mind, but also physically.  It was far more powerful than any foe I'd faced yet.  It could switch its form and mode on a whim, and did so.  For every foot-stomping bluegrass banger to get me motivated and every Mongolian throat-singing metal tune to infuse me with power, this thing just morphed into something different.  I could only switch music so fast, and I was running out of ideas.\n\nOnce, years ago, I had hurt a man, badly.  Well, more than hurt.  I was new to using my powers directly against villains, and I had faced some with powers of their own.  He was strong, he was evil, and he had killed many in his quest for power.  He was trying to kill me, and also a bunch of schoolkids.  In trying to find music to keep the kids happy while keeping myself strong enough to fight him off, I stumbled on what I now call my 'forbidden playlist\u201d.  I never wanted to repeat what had happened to that man.  Evil or no, it was too much.  \n\nTaking a bit of parking garage upside my head while blasting power ballads spun me ass over tea kettle, and I knew it was time.  This thing wasn't human so far as I could tell, and it was winning.  I cycled through the list, and \u201cThe Merry Go Round Broke Down\u201d soared through the speakers in my head.  Anvils rained down on the beast.  Before it could adjust, I had assumed its own form, but with exaggerated eyelashes, a feminine shape, and huge red lips.  I kissed it.  It boggled mentally.  The \u201cTom and Jerry\u201d theme blasted and I forced it to chase me into power lines.  Despite lacking solid form, the outline of a skeleton shone from within.  \n\nCartoons are barely-controlled insanity.  They represent the ability of the human mind to create the most absurd situations and precepts, often lacking even the need for dialogue.  The music sets the theme and the action, and we are caught happily in the tumble of farce and suspended physics.  This thing was caught in the maelstrom, and faced with something as fickle as its own nature, was being defeated.  Acid-squirting flowers and ridiculously huge cannons pelted it.  It fell through holes where there should be none.  And when last I saw it, it was riding a giant rocket straight into the sun.  The sunsets were pretty for about a week after that.  \n\nNo mortal can stand the tide of the collected madness of mankind, and I refuse to subject them to it, no matter how debased a villain might be.  But should the need arise, Steve is here to let 'em know: That's all, Folks.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening paragraph of your story is very strong. You immediately set up a contrast between the engineering and science of the modern world and the power of music. You also establish a clear thesis - that music has the power to connect us to generations past and to our common humanity. This is a great start to your story.\n\nHowever, the second paragraph feels a bit choppy and could be revised for clarity. You introduced the idea that music has real, metaphysical power - which is intriguing - but then you jump into examples of this power without sufficient explanation. It might be helpful to provide a bit more context for the reader before giving specific examples.\n\nThe third paragraph is much better in this regard. You provide clear examples of how you have used your musical powers to help others. This is much easier for the reader to follow.\n\nYou have a strong voice and an interesting premise for your story. I think with a bit of fine-tuning, it could be even stronger."}
{"prompt": "\"OUCH!\" I yell as I fly about a mile through the forest I had baited DooDoo the Clown, Lord of Death and Disease into fighting me in. I wipe some blood from my lip and look at the trail of broken trees charting my path through the forest.\n\nYea it's pissed, I think to myself. Granted calling it DooDoo the Clown didn't help but I mean come on. Dude smells like crap and all those diseases it is so proud of color its face like makeup. What else am I supposed to call it?\n\nPutting that aside I was in serious trouble. That guy was strong with a capital S. It was unfazed by anything I threw at it and kept coming. Death Metal made it stronger, Rock, Rap and all the others I tried barely put a dent in it. I was on Pop now and it had just broke through my defense combo of [Can't touch this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=otCpCn0l4Wo) and [Bulletproof](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kk8eJh4i8Lo). Not only did it touch this it made me bleed.\n\nI watched as it walked toward me through the cleared path it's leaking eyes brimming with hatred. As it passed tree stumps bubbled with ooze and plants wilted. Time was up. Its diseases were spreading and I had to take it out before  it killed me and everything else.\n\n\"Oh god, no\" I thought as the realization of what I had to do hit me. The forbidden playlist must be used. It was a 100% guaranteed win if I used it, but at a steep price. The list was locked away after I first used it in the Princess Big Hands fight and learned the horrifying effects. Effects that should never be used. Except now there was no choice.\n\nKeeping my eyes on DooDoo Slayer of Noses I put in the override code and selected the playlist.\n\nLove Songs.\n\nAs [Unchained Melody](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=24NbHUHw_jM) starts playing The Lord of Death and Disease stops in its tracks, the hate fading from its eyes. A burning warmth fills them as a smile spreads on its lips.\n\n\"Yea, this is about to get awkward.\" I say.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of this story is very strong, I love the use of imagery and the descriptions of the forest and the character's injuries. However, the story starts to lose steam in the middle. The dialogue is choppy and the exposition is heavy-handed. The story ends on a strong note, but the middle section needs work.\n\nYou have a lot of great ideas in this story, and your descriptions are evocative. I suggest you work on streamlining the middle section, and focus on making the dialogue more natural. You have a lot of potential as a writer, and I think with some practice you could produce some really great work."}
{"prompt": "He was shaking, his hands on his knees, panting. His opponent, clutching his ribs smiled through cracked teeth.\n\n\"I'll admit. You gave me quite the run for my money. But I'm afraid, I'm simply too durable.\"\n\nMackanika looked up and spat out blood. \"You son of a bitch backhand...\"\n\nBackhand grinned. \"Naughty language isnt alright.\"\n\nMackanika stood up, balling his fists up. hitting his earpiece a few times.\n\n\"I think my friend, that I have won. You've expended everything against me.\" Laughed Backhand, straightening up and fixing his suit jacket.\n\n\"No. Not everything.\" Grinned Mackanika. \"I'm sorry, but you've forced my hand.\"\n\n\"Oh?\" said Backhand, watching impassively as Mackanika selected one last song. The music was played through the half-broken system, Backhand heard a familiar refrain of brass and guitars. He tilted his head.\n\n\"What on earth?\"\n\nMackanika took on a new stance \"You might be fucking durable Backhand, but I? I'm fucking unstoppable. And you are far from an immovable object.\"\n\nMackanika shot forwards as Backhand heard the beginning of the refrian\n\n*\"Standing here, I realize\"*\n\nBackhand's eyes widened, \"No... No not like this... Anything but this!\"\n\nHe turned and tried to run, the nature of Backhand's power made him able to absorb massive amounts of kinetic energy, effectively nullifying said energy. But no matter how much he was able to absorb, he had a limit. Everybody has a limit. And that day, Mackanika found that limit. After three hundred punches that were harder than anything he'd ever thrown; Backhand finally collapsed. Mackanika dropped to one knee, his eyes burning, shoulders heaving, sweat and blood intermingling.\n\n\"In the end... It has to be this way.\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " First, the good news: you have a knack for writing action scenes! This story is full of well-choreographed violence and intense dialogue. You did a great job of making the reader feel the tension and excitement of the fight.\n\nNow, for the areas where you can improve: first, your story is very short. While there is nothing wrong with writing a short story, in this case, it feels like the story is incomplete. Perhaps you could flesh it out a bit more, explore the characters and their motivations a bit more deeply.\n\nSecond, your prose is very straightforward. There is nothing wrong with this, but it does make the story feel a bit flat. You could try spicing up your language a bit, using more figurative language and descriptive adjectives. This would help to create a more immersive and interesting reading experience."}
{"prompt": "There\u2019s nothing I can do.\n\nHe is stronger than me. Faster than me. And while my ability to influence people with music is strong, there are limits to what I can do.\n\nHe turns to face my city. Mine. Neighbors, friends, hell, even my enemies lives have meaning. He\u2019s going to destroy it all, and I have only one option left; one that will take us both out of the equation forever.\n\nWith trembling hands, I reach towards the player knob, and select the \u201cdo not select\u201d setting.\n\nHe turns, contemptuous, but as the music begins to play, his smile melts into a dawning realization.\n\n\u201cThis is the song that never ends..\u201d\n\nEternity awaits.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of this story is very strong, it immediately pulls the reader in with a sense of urgency and foreboding. However, the ending feels a bit abrupt and unfinished, it might be worth considering extending it a bit further.\n\nThe use of music as a weapon against the protagonist's nemesis is a clever and original idea, and the execution is well done. However, there are a few clunky phrases throughout the story that could be smoothed out, for example; \"He is stronger than me. Faster than me.\" could be changed to \"He is stronger and faster than me.\"\n\nOverall, this is a well-written and original story with a lot of potential. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "*Music has the power to make people do many things, mainly dance, for me, it was more factual that it made me do more. Right now though, the unthinkable happened. My playlist looped.*   \n\n\n\"You'll never beat me, I studied your playlists and knew exactly when to strike. When you looped back to your starter song!\"  \n\n\nIt was true, my playlist looped back to \"Lose Yourself\" by Eminem and my body began to relax as the opening came through. I coughed up blood and fell to my knees as my body stopped tensing up from the pain.   \n\"Pause.\"  \nThe music stopped.  \n\"Open up the gaming playlist. Code 935.\"  \n\n\nMy adversary chuckled as he loomed over me, his hand raised to finish me off in one go. \"I'll let you humor me. Pick your last song they'll play it at your funeral as I come to piss on your grave!\"  \n\n\n\"Forbidden Track One. Prepare Track Two in case things go south.\" I rose from the ground, produced a pistol from my side, and chucked it at him.   \n\n\n\"You're supposed to shoot your gun not throw it at me lazily!\" He replied as he took the gun into his hand, the town, now rubble, we were in began to shift and change. From the rubble, became an old western town. I was now back, somewhat alive, riding on a horse to the southern point in town.  \n\n\nThere are folks around, though I didn't speak a word as I hummed my tune as I knew they were but illusions brought on by the song. I had a few hours, enough time to patch myself up. I got a bit of whiskey and adjusted my outfit. At 20 past 11, it was time, and I walked out into the street. My adversary stood there, the pistol I gave him on his side. He didn't realize it yet, that's good, now to play the rest.  \n\n\nForty feet, that's the magic number. We each stepped away, counting, 3..2..1...I twist around with quick precision, pulling the big iron on my hip from its holster and gunned him down before he even cleared leather. He laid there on the ground, dead.   \n\n\n\"Pause after the end. Un-queue song 2, we don't need the invincible tune from Mario.\" the song continued on, and as it faded out, the world turned back to rubble. I fell to the ground, laughing, coughing up blood, but eventually steadying myself as I walked over to his corpse.  \n\n\n\"You see, I was gonna go easy on you, but you laughed and let me pick my funeral song. That's where you went wrong because whenever I play this, the other doesn't know what's going to happen until it's too late. It's powerful, too powerful to use all the time. Ah, why am I explaining this to you, you're a dam corpse.\"\n\n&amp;#x200B;\n\nI pulled out my phone, called for some medical attention and the nearest coffin maker then went back to grab my pistol and put it back where the big iron used to be.  \n\n\nLink to the Song:  \n\n\n[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zzICMIu5zFY](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zzICMIu5zFY)\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " First, let me say that I enjoyed reading your story. You have a unique voice and style, and I think with a little bit of refinement, your story could be even better. Here are a few suggestions:\n\n1. Try to be more concise in your writing. For example, in the first paragraph, you could cut out the sentence \" mainly dance, for me, it was more factual that it made me do more.\" This would tighten up your writing and make it more efficient.\n\n2. In general, try to be more concise with your adjectives and adverbs. For example, in the sentence \"My adversary chuckled as he loomed over me, his hand raised to finish me off in one go,\" you could cut out the word \"chuckled.\" This would give the sentence more impact and make it more efficient.\n\n3. Pay attention to your sentence structure. For example, in the sentence \"It was true, my playlist looped back to 'Lose Yourself' by Eminem and my body began to relax as the opening came through,\" you could switch the order of the clauses to make the sentence more interesting. Try something like, \"My body began to relax as the opening to 'Lose Yourself' by Eminem came through, and it was then that I realized my playlist had looped back to the beginning.\" This would give the sentence more impact and make it more interesting to read.\n\n4. Make sure your dialogue sounds natural. For example, in the sentence, \" 'You'll never beat me, I studied your playlists and knew exactly when to strike. When you looped back to your starter song!' ,\" the dialogue feels a bit stilted. Try to make it sound more natural by reading it aloud to yourself.\n\n5. Pay attention to your word choice. For example, in the sentence, \"I had a few hours, enough time to patch myself up,\" you could replace the word \"patch\" with a more specific verb, such as \"tend.\" This would give the sentence more impact and make it more interesting to read.\n\nKeep up the good work, and I look forward to reading more of your stories."}
{"prompt": "No tactic presented itself to be fitting, no strategy dented the massive head of the supervillain. Not even the most dissonant chords, not even the highest or lowest notes imaginable, not even the shrieks of leger line swords trying again and again to penetrate the impenetrable barriers of this villain's scaly skin. The villain's lungs were nonexistent, replaced with fishy gills that flopped around, destroying buildings all around. The villain was a blue-tinged creature, choking and flopping around with an evil intent. The villain... was a gigantic, fifty-feet tall, fish. \n  \nI had enjoyed fish. I had bitten into the flesh of fish, enjoying the flavor and the texture of fish flesh. Oh- how I wish I could do so with this tone-deaf mass of a fish, vibrating and making that horrid bubbling noise from deep inside its throat. The horrid music- no, not even music. Noises. Noises of the dying yet destructive fish obstructed the sounds my earpieces let out. Ah, my earpieces. My precious earpieces that presented itself with a surprising array of music. The music supplied a sort of catalyst, enzymes, to boost my intelligence (with the musical delights of \"dead guy music\"), to make me strong as The Rock with rock music, to make me fluent in Korean with Kpop music, EDM to make my technological information higher, and oh so many wonderful pieces of my choosing. They should have worked. Every time there was a catastrophic disaster of some existence, the music of my earpieces have soothed me with high, unlimited powers. I had been able to destroy dinosaurs (with music based on meteors, of course) and destroy the greatest evil madman there was (Songs of the power of love... how nice, you see.) However, its dependability dwindled with the emergence of the evil, ginormous fish. \n  \nThe fish flopped around with its horrendous noises unfit for any human to listen to, not even the most significantly renounced marine biologists. \"Ugh, how disgustingly revolting,\" I told myself, switching the currently inaudible playlist to the Aquarium of Saint Saens Carnival of the Animals, hoping it would give some vital clue to how to defeat and hopefully consume the fish before me. Unluckily, the music did absolutely nothing. It was hardly heard, for there was too much flopping and gurgling of the fish, but all else it did was a heightened awareness to the fish. The fish still flopped around, eliciting fearful screams and falling buildings. I walked myself back, for there was no use staying too close to the fish. \n  \n\"Curses to my cursed earpieces, equivalent of rotten earwax. I do wonder if they even work at all,\" I cursed, fearfully, attempting repeatedly to obtain a useful power from my earpieces. Nothing seemed to work, and everything was too complex to be able to overcome the fearful blurblike dialogues of the fish. Frustration started to pent up in my heart, for this was never how things had ever gone. Something had always showed up, something had always worked. \n  \n\"Oh no, oh no,\" I thought to myself, looking frantically at the fish. The fishy creature had looked suffering, dying, moments ago, but now it seemed to have a greater and increased vitality. The fish flopped around a lot quicker than before, jumping higher and higher. Somehow, the highest buildings started to fall. My heart beat faster and harder, and I thought my body was shaking from the tremors. My mental state went blank.\n  \nBut that could not go on, because I was the designated hero of the city.\n  \nI needed a plan, a backup plan. Did I have a backup plan?\n  \n\"Oh yes, a backup plan. The backup plan, that was the...\" I muttered to myself, suddenly remembering my \"backup plan.\"\n  \nI nervously laughed. The backup plan was the \"forbidden playlist\". \n  \nThe forbidden playlist... it was a loop of the countless variations of one singular song. \n  \nCould this work?\n  \nI clicked my way through my earpiece with one strand of hope. \n  \nYes, I found it- the forbidden song's loop. \n  \nI clicked, and the music played out through the air, vibrating my auditory ossicles and vibrating my brain. The sound was much, much louder than ever before. The gurgling sounds of I trembled at the monstrous dominance of the music, and suddenly, I felt a tremendous change within me. \n  \nMy head changed into a circular, yellow shark's head, cute enough to daze even the evilest evil lords of any fantasy novel. My arms became extremely strong and stiff, extending into two chopstick-like arms. Then, I started dancing and singing. \n  \n\"Baby shark, doo doo doo doo doo Baby shark, doo doo doo doo doo Baby shark,\" I sang in perfect pitch, turning and clapping my arms this way and that. The whole city stopped to watch me, and the evil fish stopped flopping around, obviously in awe of my spectacular dancing. The verses went on, and I realized that this song was the perfect fit for this fish. I had not thought of the fact that sharks ate fish. This meant I could walk on and consume the fish at my will. At this realization, I walked towards the now-unmoving fish almost-corpse. My arms had changed into limbs as strong as shark jaws, and were layered with teeth, like lampreys. The fish looked at me in terror, and sluggishly squirmed to hide between whatever it thought of. Resistance was futile. My arms clamped on the gigantic fish, and suddenly the fish was dead. \n  \n\n  \nAs I saw the fish disintigrate into individual sashimi cuts, the baby shark fascade faded, finally. I collapsed on the floor into a tired mess, my eyes closing into silent oblivion.\n  \n\n  \n\\---\n  \n\n  \nTime passed, and I awoke many hours later by a small young child poking my nose softly. My eyes slowly opened to find two smiling innocent eyes staring into my soul.\n  \n\"Big sibling, that was the coolest thing ever,\" the child said in awe. I stood up and patted the young toddler. The child seemed to have this... baby shark t-shirt, quite fitting with what I had just done in front of the whole city, or what was left of it.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has potential, but it needs work in a few areas. First, your sentence structure is often choppy and unclear. You also need to work on your description, as it is often vague and does not give the reader a clear picture of what is happening. Finally, you need to work on your characters, as they are not well-developed and are not very likable.\n\nThat being said, you have a great imagination and your story is unique. I would recommend reading some books on writing and taking a class or two. With some practice, you could become a great writer."}
{"prompt": "I heard the blow, Magnum Fists uppercut smashing against my chestplate, the bevor tearing free with a noise like an aluminum bat making a line drive, and my helmet peeling off as I barely pulled away in time to keep my head attached.\n\nSuddenly, all the noise and music inside my head evaporated as the speakers that had been resting on my temples left with the rest of the helmet, my vision almost vanishing from half a dozen cuts from all that material being buckled like tinfoil, leaving an opaque crimson mess across my face and eyes.\n\nAnd without that music, I couldn't come close to dodging the follow-up swing, catching me square in the nose and... that's the last thing I remember. Suit telemetry recorded some momentary g-forces around 250, lots of spinning, and loss of most systems except for the main armored shell.\n\nAs soon as the sensors stopped detecting any vitals, the reinforced spine plate started pinging, hollow notes... a piano of metal joined a moment later by a violin or humming broadcast by the same. Volume built until Magnum Fists heard it, and a moment later he laughed as he heard the first words:\n\n\"**Just one more time before I go, I'll let you know... that all this time I've been afraid to let it show... nobody can save me now...**\"\n\nMuffling the noise with the remains of a car punched over to land on top of me, a moment later he turns when that same car flies away, tumbling like a thrown knife before splattering against the wall beside him in a decent impression of childishly thrown spaghetti.\n\nMy jaw is still re-assembling itself, as is my left arm. I'm a mess, no question, but the last thing Magnum Fist hears just before tumbling through a parking garage and skipping across the lake like a stone, \"**Nobody can save you now...**\"\n\nTwo minutes later, there's a zig-zagging line several miles long as my regenerating corpse pinballed Magnum Fist half-way up the mountain, that metal brace on my spine slowing finally, and the deathly silence of a terrified forest after a natural disaster creeping in.\n\nI fell over face-first into the churned dirt all around me, that metal backplate slowly plucking out a final set of noises like a silver-stringed guitar, dents and collateral damage from the carnage I unleashed leaving the lyrics like a chain-smoker's first time at the mic: \"**One dark and stormy night, a fledgling fell from flight...**\"\n\nBy the time the recovery team had arrived, I was sitting naked beside the charred crater, the remains of my suit vaporized in the column of fire that shot up into the sky half an hour ago.\n\n\"So... how bad?\" is all I ask as the ATVs roll up the last ruts in the land I'd torn up.\n\n\"Somehow... nobody dead from you, let's get you back in containment though,\" they say, holding up a set of noise-canceling earmuffs which I gladly slip on to silence the world from me for the ride back into civilization.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of this story is very strong, with great sensory detail that really sets the scene and gets the reader immersed in the action. I particularly like the image of the protagonist's helmet being torn off. However, there are a few small grammatical errors, such as \"I couldn't come close to dodging the follow-up swing, catching me square in the nose and... that's the last thing I remember.\" which could be easily corrected.\n\nThe story loses some momentum in the middle, when the focus shifts to the recovery team. This section feels somewhat abrupt and out of place, and could be rewritten to better fit with the rest of the story.\n\nOverall, this is a strong story with a great opening and good sensory detail. With a few small tweaks, it could be even better."}
{"prompt": "I had seen them all.\n\nThe simpler ones like bombers or shooters whose weapons I could absorb with smooth jazz. The scientists who I could convince to lay off their plans by outsmarting them through Beethoven, Bach, Mozart and the like. The crazy teenagers who I talked off of buildings with Linkin Park playing not only in my head, but in theirs too in many cases. The guy who poisoned the water of a town, allowing me to listen to the band poison for a day - that was one of the nicer ones.\n\nAnd the more unusual ones.\n\nThe gal who wanted to turn the world into some kind of spaghetti monster, forcing me to listen to we no speak Americano on repeat. Ugh.\n\nThe twins who I fought with nothing but duets in my ears - you know, fight fire with fire.\n\nThe businessman who wanted to buy the whole world, stopped by a series of seminars, podcasts and TED talks on finances that almost bored me to death.\n\nI had seen them all, and many more. Nothing could surprise me, I thought.\n\nWell, I was wrong.\n\nBecause while the world's best dancer explains to me their evil plan to make *everybody* do the twist, I realise there is only one way to stop this madness. I press play, and let the mental image of elevator doors opening flood through me to prepare for the ultimate dance-off.\n\nOPPA GANGNAM STYLE!\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The story is fun and quirky, with a great ending. However, there are a few areas that could be improved.\n\nFirst, the opening sentence is a bit confusing. It might be better to start with something simpler, like \"I had stopped count of how many evil-doers I had stopped.\"\n\nSecond, throughout the story, there is a lot of telling, and not enough showing. For example, in the second paragraph, it would be better to describe the different types of people you've stopped, rather than just listing them.\n\nThird, the story feels a bit choppy in places. It might flow better if it were shorter, or if there were more connective tissue between the different scenes.\n\nOverall, this is a fun and original story with a great ending. With a few revisions, it could be even better."}
{"prompt": "\"Is that all, then?\" She asked dryly, the clicking of her heels slowly getting louder as she approached. The sting in her voice was noticeable, yet understated, in a way that only posh British accents can be.\n\nI glance at my phone, its cracked screen flickering, dozens of fine-lined cobwebs crawling across the UI of my Spotify playlist. It's hard to see the songs at this point, so I just hit the big \"shuffle\" button and hope it lands on something good.\n\nIt's Aerosmith. Not my cup of tea, but rock is rock. I've tried other genres, but they don't work as well.\n\nFor example, jazz makes turns me invisible. But it only with Kenny G songs, and you have to get completely naked for it to work. Even then, you can't really hide the headphones, so it's a mostly useless power.\n\nPop-music, especially early to mid 2000's pop, gives me the laser vision, but it's really difficult to control and boy, if it doesn't sap the energy right out of you. Really, it's just a one-off thing, and more of a last resort than anything else.\n\nK-pop, weirdly enough, gives me an ultra-heightened sense of smell. It's very particular, and very unpleasant. Especially in crowded areas on hot days. Everything is just so... *amplified*.\n\nSo rock it is.\n\nI hear the guitar chords and drums, vocals too, the lyrics unimportant, sounds of a bygone era swelling in my ears, its arrival not over-appreciated but not entirely unwelcome, either. I need it, after all.\n\nAs the music crescendos, its pitch rising and falling, the tempo crawling steadily and then whizzing forward, so too does my power level, my strength in sync with the dizzying fluctuations of speed and intensity.\n\nA familiar power settles into my bones, and I shift my weight into my front foot, raising two balled fists on either side of my temple, ready to fight again, but not really. I shuffle in the direction of my opponent, listlessly, crossing my feet as I try desperately not to fall face forward into the pavement.\n\nI do listen to Classical every once in a while. It makes me smarter. Whenever I put that on, it's as if the clouds in my head part, and everything seems so much simpler. But when I tried putting on some Mozart earlier, every instinct was telling me to run away and hide. I guess that is the smartest choice.\n\nMy uneven breaths make a crisp crackling sound, almost diseased sounding. Warm blood trickles from the corner of my mouth. I swipe away at it, lazily, with the back of my hand. It keeps coming back.\n\nAs my eyes slowly rise to meet hers, this woman, who looked like a corporate receptionist, in her stuffy blue-gray suit, now appeared 3 times bigger. A demon, even, her towering, dark shape indistinct in the blurry heat waves reflecting off of the concrete. I blink, and she's normal sized again.\n\n\"Damn. This is bad\", I think to myself, but in my delirium I fail to notice her bend down, shifting her weight into her lead leg, the ground splintering beneath her feet. In a split second, she explodes forward, a dull, thudding \"boom\" sound escaping from behind her.\n\nBefore my brain can register what is happening, I am smashed into the pavement, the force of our collision sending a large plume of brown dust shooting upward and then falling back down slowly.\n\nWhen the dust clears, I see that she's on top of me now. How, I'm not sure. She was just over there, and now she's here.\n\nHer hands are around my neck. She begins to crush my windpipe, her strength like an industrial piston. I realize she's knocked my headphones out of my ears. Out of the corner of my eye I can see them, and my phone, but it's shattered into pieces.\n\nI look up at her. She's completely expressionless. Bored, maybe.\n\n\"What *are* you?\", I think, but my vision is fading now. As her face slowly goes out of focus, and the world starts to get dimmer, my mind drifts back to the day I discovered my powers.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are some areas that could use some work. First, your opening scene is very confusing. It's hard to follow who is talking, and what is happening. You may want to consider starting with a different scene, or providing more description to help orient the reader.\n\nSecond, your use of multiple genres of music as a metaphor for the protagonist's powers is interesting, but it is not clear how this is relevant to the story. You may want to focus on developing this idea more, or cut it altogether.\n\nFinally, the ending of the story is very abrupt and confusing. It's not clear what the protagonist is thinking, or what the point of the story is. You may want to consider providing more closure, or ending on a different note.\n\nOverall, there is a lot of potential in this story. With some revision, it could be really great."}
{"prompt": "Blood and teeth on the floor. Vinyl discs stuck from every surface. Speakers broken and my mic stand twisted. I'm out of options. \n\nMAX RADIUM gloats over my broken and failing body. He thinks he's won. Blind to my trembling efforts he cackles while I slip a hand to my headphones.\n\n\"Sound canceling on.\"\n\nAll my life, sound put power into me. My Chemical Romance summoned skeletons. Saint Motel shot light from my hands. Even little things gave momentary powers. I'd fought villain after villain with headphones thumping in my ears. The years had shown the public all of my moves. Save for one. \n\nSilence. and with it the strongest I can ever be. The complete absence of sound summons the power of \"Unmaking\".\n\nIt didn't matter that MAX RADIUM was coming to finish me off. I couldnt hear his footsteps and neither could he. Muted questions. Voiceless rage. I'm saved from a faster death by his skin starting to boil.\n\nI stared from the floor, watching my strongest foe slow and melt. His features sagged. Bones and sinew liquified before the meat around them. He screamed. They always do. No one heard the gurgling sludge he became.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The beginning of your story is very strong, you set the scene well and introduce the conflict immediately. I like the detail you include about the vinyl discs stuck to the walls, it helps create a vivid picture. However, I feel like the rest of the story falls flat.\n\nThe dialogue in the second paragraph is stilted and unnatural. It sounds like you are trying too hard to be clever. Additionally, the explanation of the protagonist's power is very heavy-handed and expositionary.\n\nThe third paragraph is better, but the dialogue still sounds forced. The climax of the story is also very anti-climactic. We don't get a sense of the protagonist's triumph, only of the villain's demise.\n\nOverall, this story needs more development. The concept is interesting, but it is not executed well. With more work, this could be a really great story."}
{"prompt": "We had failed.\n\nThe whole country, maybe the entire world had been counting on us to stop Professor Parasaurolophus from releasing his bio-weapon and we failed.  I tore my eyes away from the exhaust trail that was already hundreds of metres long and quickly stretching into kilometres to glare at the scaled figure held in Dauntless's unrelenting grasp.  \"Where is the self-destruct!?\"  The Saurian only laughed at the rock-skinned hero, his crazed eyes peering through broken glasses.\n\n\"Why on Terra would I build a self-destruct in my life's work?\"\n\nThe rocket was travelling further    \"Jet Setter!  Goggles!\"  Startled, the heroine jumped at my demand even as her hands reflexively moved to the item in question.  \"I- I can't, I'd never catch it.\"  Her voice, normally a bright and upbeat tone to match her heroic persona was low and soft in a way she normally never allows herself to use when in costume.  I knew she couldn't, her top speed had never even reached Mach 1 but there was no time to explain, I marched the three steps to her side and snatched them right off her head, honey-blonde hair exploding outwards as it was freed from the straps.\n\nGods I love it when she lets her hair down.\n\nShe wasn't much smaller than me thankfully, the protective eyewear only needed a quick pull to tighten.  I ordered Rock Lock to break the window as my fingers moved to my left wrist, dancing over the touchscreen that held my 'soundtrack to victory'.  I moved past my usual forte - rock, metal, techno, even a few pop songs when appropriate - and hit the big, black button.  A voice came from my earpieces, asking for confirmation.\n\n\"Confirm, situation Omega Black.  Passphrase, 'never gonna give you up'.\"\n\nMy teammates gasped, except for Jet, who frowned and raised a hand like she wanted to slap me.  I didn't blame them, the worst they'd ever seen me pull out was Omega that time the earthquake brought down the shopping centre.  And the last time before that was... with my old team.\n\n\"Track seven.\"\n\nThrumming strings of an electric guitar roared in my eardrums, I felt my body begin warming up in response.  I had other songs that would allow me flight, speed, even limited invincibility, but none of them had the right balance for this scenario.\n\n*\"You're making a choice to live like this.\"*\n\n\"Mix-Master-\"  I didn't stay to listen, we didn't have time.  The world didn't have time.  I crouched down, feeling the heat pool in my body I pushed it towards my feet and released it.  I exploded out the newest hole in the ParaSphere, propelled by my own flames like the rocket I was chasing.\n\n*\"In all of the noise I am silent.\"*\n\n The wind tore at my costume as I flew, crossing hundreds of metres in seconds, I focused on the sensation of burning and pushed the flames further.  The goggles pressed into my skin, compacting it against the bones in my face as I moved faster, the rocket was still moving farther away.\n\n*\"We already know how it ends tonight.\"*\n\nThe fire burned hotter, from red to white.  A cone of air began to form in front of me as I pushed even further, igniting reserves even I didn't know I had.  A cone of air began to form around me.\n\n*\"You run in the dark through a firefight.\"*\n\nSound shattered, and I began to catch up.  Hundreds of kilometres behind and closing, I pictured who I was fighting for.  Kilometres behind and closing, I remembered who I had lost.  Hundreds of metres, the fire was too much, I could feel my body cooking from the inside out.  I drew level, my arms wrapped around the body of the missile and I heaved.\n\nBy the scantest of degrees our trajectory changed, up, up... UP!  I closed my eyes and let the heat out.\n\n*\"Let me light up the sky.\"*\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of this story is very strong, and really pulls the reader in. The use of short, declarative sentences is effective in conveying the urgency of the situation. I also like the way the protagonist is immediately established as the leader of the team.\n\nHowever, there are a few issues with the second half of the story. Firstly, the dialogue feels stilted and unnatural. It sounds like the characters are reciting lines, rather than having a conversation. Secondly, the protagonist's inner monologue feels out of place and distracting. It breaks up the action and slows down the pacing of the story.\n\nOverall, this is a strong story with a lot of potential. With a few tweaks, it could be even better."}
{"prompt": "\n\nI  was never much for video games let alone video game music. But one the first time I stumbled upon \"song of the ancients\" I knew even as it was loading that something wrong would happen. So everytime I landed on it or a variant I threw it on my forbidden Playlist. Praying I would never have to use it. Sadly the day had come and the dread was overwhelming. But as it started my worst fears were confirmed as if part of me subconsciously knew that this was was how it would all end.\n\nThe unspeakable horrors come through the bizzare eldtritch portal were beyond comprehension. My rock playlist had failed me for the first time in a kong time and my classic kept giving me the same choice i didnt like or really understand... but to the forbidden Playlist as the answer. My hands shaked  as my fingers slide towards it in apprehension for what would happen when it started....\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The first paragraph of your story sets up the conflict nicely, and I like the way you describe the feeling of dread that the protagonist is experiencing. However, the second paragraph feels a bit choppy and difficult to follow. I would recommend restructuring it a bit to make the events more clear. Additionally, you may want to consider adding more description to paint a clearer picture for the reader.\n\nIn general, your story has potential but it needs more development in order to be truly successful. With a bit more work, I think you could create a really atmospheric and suspenseful piece."}
{"prompt": "I peeled off my bloody tattered shirt and looked down at my chest. I was pretty messed up. The werewolves had done a number on me. I already hated New London Connecticut and my friend just had to be the asshole who sang a few lines of *that* Warren Zevon song. We had been out drinking. Apparently my power thought it was a close enough fit. Not much I could do about it now as I slumped against the wall. My efforts to staunch the bleeding were to no avail as they stalked closer. This was a nightmare come true. It became hard for me to keep my eyes open. I was so tired but i wasn't going to go out without one last song.\n\n    Non, rien de rien\n    Non, je ne regrette rien\n    Ni le bien qu'on m'a fait\n    Ni le mal\n    Tout \u00e7a m'est bien \u00e9gal\n    ...\n\nI opened my eyes with them just a yard away now. I could smell their fetid breath. I knew if I closed my eyes now I would be dead. Without blinking, I opened my eyes and rolled out of bed. Best started my day again I guess. Maybe GTFO out of Connecticut just to be safe.\n\nBut before I could make it across the room the clock radio alarm went off. I froze. First werewolves, now this. Maybe it wouldn't trigger. Maybe I was safe. \"They say we're young and we don't know we won't find out until we grow.\" I ran. I ran so far away. I sat up. Yep, just as I feared. I was 10 years old again in a nice BnB in Punxsutawney.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of your story is very strong. You immediately set the scene and introduce the conflict. I like the detail about the werewolves and the protagonist's injuries. However, the dream sequence that follows feels out of place and disrupts the flow of the story. It would be better to either cut it out entirely, or move it to the end of the story as a sort of twist ending.\n\nThe rest of the story is well-written and engaging. I like the use of the song lyrics as the protagonist's internal monologue. The ending is also very satisfying. Overall, this is a very strong piece of writing. Well done!"}
{"prompt": "Its literally just the venetian snares album \"Rossv Csillag...\" \nWhen the music stops, the horrors &amp; gruesome excruciation you have wrought brings you to your knees. All the fires increase visibility, as the lack of standing structures has caused the wind to whip up &amp; blow away the bulk of the smoke. \n\nYou can see exactly what you've done. There is not much left to see.\n\nWhen they find you, deep in the crater, they just start shooting. No greetings or attempts to identify, just muzzle flares &amp; the curt bark of their weapons. You truly wish that they, or any mortal, had anything remotely like the means to stop you. \n\nYou realize now that you've always been the villian. The monster was always you. \nHow could you ever think you could control this? Or that this would all end well? \n\nAs their bullets clatter around you, another grim realization blossoms in your mind: No one can control you, harm you, stop you... \n\nWhat law, writ by mere men, could constrain the likes of you? \nWhat authority could demand your obedience &amp; subservience with impunity?\nWhy, then, serve those who are so plainly weaker than you?\n\nAs they pause to reload before another volley of impotent annoyance, your finger hovers for a long moment over a small triangular button engraved with the word \"PLAY\" in a boring &amp; perfectly crisp font.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a strong voice and a clear point of view. You have managed to evoke a sense of horror and despair in the reader. However, there are a few areas where your prose could be improved.\n\nFirst, you should watch your use of adjectives and adverbs. In particular, you use the word \"literally\" twice in the first paragraph, which interrupts the flow of the story. Second, you might want to vary your sentence structure a bit more, as many of your sentences are quite short. Third, you could use more concrete images and descriptions to bring the reader into the story.\n\nOverall, you have written a strong story with a clear point of view. With a few revisions, your story will be even more powerful."}
{"prompt": "I reached over and used my thumb to start my playlist, and as nymphetamine girl began, I let the mix of operatic and goth metal cause my body to begin to slowly relax, I reacted. I felt my muscles become smoother and time slowed down. I could suddenly see, almost like a premonition, everything that was going to happen as the pandora add played. The instant that it changed, to loco by coal chamber, time went from almost standing still, to life being in overdrive, and that's when my adrenal glands suddenly decided to kick in. No matter how hard my opponent hits me, it doesn't matter; I've never felt as alive as I have in the last two thousand years.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are a few areas that need improvement. First, your opening sentence is a bit choppy and could be smoother. Additionally, your use of adjectives and description could be more concise and vivid. For example, instead of saying \"I felt my muscles become smoother,\" you could say \"I felt my muscles relax.\"\n\nThat being said, you have a good grasp of story structure and your use of sensory detail is excellent. Overall, with a few revisions, this could be a great story."}
{"prompt": "The Forbidden playlist, home of many weird and degenerate songs, some of which, make you physically cringe by just seeing their names. And each song yield unpredictable effects, both helpful and negative. You promised to yourself to not use it ever again, since that incident years ago. But, this villain can counter every playlist you have, every ability and every advantage you could rely on. \nAs your bloodied hands digit the forbidden six digits on your old and broken smartphone, a rush of fear emerges suddenly, making you feel a chill on your spine. \"Shall I really do it?\" You ask yourself, but is too late for questions, as the city will not wait. Hesitantly, you press play on the first track.\nThe first one is made by someone called \"S3RL\". \"Weird name\", you think, as the song starts. It's a simple tune, with most of the beats being anime moans and a remixed TTS voice singing how much they wanted a \"hentai girl\". \nAs expected, the first effect instantly happens, and it's just your lungs oxygenating your blood way faster, allowing you to dodge the villain's attacks and lasting way longer than normal.\nThe second song is pure madness. Extremely violent beats combined with a demonic voice screaming in Latin makes your blood literally boil, allowing for very hot and pressured blood beams to emerge at will, breaking the villain attack.\nThe third is more calm, yet threatening, made by a \"Mori\". Just a rap base with a female voice rapping and asking in a gentle manner if \"you could excuse her and RIP\". This effect made your brain almost overload, making you see in slow motion.\nThe fourth one is more degenerate, composed of a cover of the song \"Despacito\" entirely of anime moans and pleasure screams. The effect was very unexpected, since it solidified the blood flow on your arms and in your \"lil' buddy\" making it a very resistant makeshift meat sword, albeit still painful after each hit.\nThe fifth and last was just soft anime moans over a silent background. This one your weeb friend sent you so you could relax a little. You expected a terrible effect, however it filled you with determination, making you able to see the villain next moves and counter accordingly and freezing your skin cells to act like a thin sheet of solid titanium.\nAfter just a few minutes and several massive blows, the villain, now on his knees, was weakened enough to be blasted with a boiling blood jet before being decapitated by your meat sword. \nYou saw what you did and was extremely ashamed. Your eyes started to tear up before a friendly figure asked you to share your forbidden playlist since if made you so animated to fight and looked like it was full of hits.\nAfter the Battle, you realized that some of the forbidden songs could be very useful in future engagements, and you learned to \"manipulate\" the random effects of the music at your favor, like changing the speed of the song or adding a different rhythm to it. You learned to accept your somewhat weird music choices and abandoned entirely the forbidden playlist, not before transferring all of the songs to other more appropriate playlists.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The first thing I noticed about your story is that it is very well-organized and easy to follow. You have a clear beginning, middle, and end, and you transition smoothly between scenes. Your descriptions are also very vivid and engaging.\n\nOne area you could work on is your dialogue. In some places, it feels a bit stilted and unnatural. You might want to have your characters speak in a more colloquial, natural way.\n\nAnother area you could work on is your use of adjectives and adverbs. In some places, your writing feels a bit \"flowery\" and over-descriptive. You might want to pare down your descriptions a bit and let the actions and dialogue speak for themselves.\n\nOverall, you have a strong story with engaging characters and descriptions. With a bit of work on your dialogue and use of adjectives, your story will be even more enjoyable for readers."}
{"prompt": "Baby shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo Baby shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo Baby shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo Baby shark! Mommy shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo Mommy shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo Mommy shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo Mommy shark! Daddy shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo Daddy shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo Daddy shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo Daddy shark! Grandma shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo Grandma shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo Grandma shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo Grandma shark! Grandpa shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo Grandpa shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo Grandpa shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo Grandpa shark! Let's go hunt, doo doo doo doo doo doo Let's go hunt, doo doo doo doo doo doo Let's go hunt, doo doo doo doo doo doo Let's go hunt! Run away, doo doo doo doo doo doo Run away, doo doo doo doo doo doo Run away, doo doo doo doo doo doo Run away! Safe at last, doo doo doo doo doo doo Safe at last, doo doo doo doo doo doo Safe at last, doo doo doo doo doo doo Safe at last! It's the end, doo doo doo doo doo doo It's the end, doo doo doo doo doo doo It's the end, doo doo doo doo doo doo\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Starting with a compliment, I really like the use of repetition throughout the story. It gives the story a nice rhythm and makes it easy to read aloud. I also like the use of sound effects, it adds an extra layer of interest to the story.\n\nNow for the constructive criticism, I think the story could be further improved by adding more description. For example, instead of just saying \"Mommy shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo\" you could describe what the Mommy shark is doing, \"Mommy shark is swimming around looking for her next meal.\" This would add more interest and engagement for the reader.\n\nEnding with another compliment, I think you did a great job keeping the story short and to the point. It is the perfect length for a bedtime story or for a young child's attention span."}
{"prompt": "I know I shouldn\u2019t, but I can\u2019t help it. Class is just so boring, and I can only stare out the window for so long.\n  \nAnd she has the most exciting thoughts of anyone in the class.\n  \nAt first, I thought she could tell I was reading her thoughts. Why else would her daydream end whenever I showed up?\n  \nBut after encountering the same scene playing out in her head the second day in a row, with Mr. Darcy droning on about a comparison between Othello and modern cinema, I suddenly wondered if perhaps she\u2019d had that thought stuck in her head on her own.\n  \nAnd if so, why?\n  \nI followed her after class, shoving past my classmates as I caught up.\n  \n\u201cHey!\u201d I said when I was behind her.\n  \nShe didn\u2019t respond. I didn\u2019t need to read her thoughts to know she was lost in her own world.\n  \n\u201cRachel,\u201d I said, saying her name as if it was a question. We hadn\u2019t talked before even though we were in the same literature class.\n  \nRachel turned around, questioning me with her eyes. \n  \n\u201cJohn,\u201d I say, introducing myself.\n  \nShe nods, waiting.\n  \n\u201cDid you understand what Mr. Darcy was going on about today?\u201d\n  \nRachel turns and walks away, slow enough that I recognize it as an invitation to follow.\n  \n\u201cI don\u2019t really pay attention,\u201d she admits. \n  \nI already know. \u201cOh?\u201d I say, hoping she continues.\n  \n\u201cI\u2019ll study for the test,\u201d she says as if it\u2019s the simplest thing in the world.\n  \nI\u2019d kill for her confidence.\n  \nWe take a few steps before she continues. \u201cI\u2019m a writer. Most of the time, I\u2019m thinking about scenes for my story.\u201d\n  \nIt suddenly all clicks. The recurring scene, the abrupt ending: she has no idea where to go next.\n  \nWell, I\u2019ve watched a lot of movies. Plus, after reading so many people\u2019s thoughts, I have a pretty good idea of what people expect.\n  \nBut I can\u2019t just outright tell her what should come next.\n  \nWe continue our conversation all the way to our cars, me on autopilot while trying to figure out a way to help her with her story. She\u2019d know my mind was somewhere else if she could read thoughts too.\n  \n\n  \n*The female warrior stands outside the castle gates with her horde at her back. The king allows for an audience, saying only one person can come inside.*\n  \n*The warrior steps forward without a second thought and is stopped by her second in command. He proclaims his love for her and begs she let him go in her place.*\n  \n*\u201cThe king won\u2019t respect you,\u201d he says, pleading with her.*\n  \n*\u201cHe has no choice,\u201d the female warrior says.* \n  \n\n  \nWe\u2019ve been here before. Next, the female warrior will walk through the gate and be led up the castle stairs to the king\u2019s throne. And that\u2019s where it ends, every time.\n  \nMeanwhile, Mr. Darcy is going on about the role of women in Othello. From what I understand, they don\u2019t have vital roles in the play and are only there to further the plot.\n  \nI lean over to Rachel, having taken the desk next to hers, and ask if she will study for the test, implying that she isn\u2019t paying attention.\n  \nRachel shakes her head, coming out of her daydream, and nods.\n  \n\u201cI\u2019d kill for your confidence,\u201d I say. Then, before Rachel can respond, I add, \u201cI can see the dude in charge saying something like that, nodding toward Mr. Darcy.\n  \nWe both know I\u2019m not talking about Othello, but there\u2019s no way she can prove it.\n  \n\n  \n*The female warrior walks into the throne room. The king looks down on her, all fury and bluster, and demands she explains.*\n  \n*Standing in shining silver armor, his primary knight commands her to kneel.* \n  \n*The female warrior, wearing furs that leave her arms bare and exposing numerous cuts and bruises, shakes her head.*\n  \n\n  \nAnd here we go. This is where her daydream ends every time. Rachel doesn\u2019t want the warrior dead but can\u2019t ever find a way out of the room. This time\u2026\n  \n\n  \n*The king laughs. It\u2019s a booming laugh that echoes off of the throne room walls. Every knight in the room looks at the king, then at each other, before they permit themselves a chuckle.* \n  \n*\u201cI respect your confidence, girl,\u201d the king says. \u201cI\u2019ve killed men for less.\u201d He laughs once more, shaking his head. \u201cWhere\u2019d you get it?\u201d the king asks.*\n  \n*\u201cGet what?\u201d the warrior said.*\n  \n*\u201cYour confidence! Was it your dad? A lover or a husband?\u201d*\n  \n*The female warrior stared at the king\u2019s primary knight. \u201cI killed for it,\u201d she says with a sly smile and a wink.*\n  \n\n  \nI stop reading her thoughts right as Mr. Darcy announces the date and time for the test. \u201cPlenty of time to study,\u201d I say to Rachel as we leave class.\n  \n\u201cI\u2019ll walk out of there with exactly what I want,\u201d she replies.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The first thing I noticed in your story was the use of dialogue to move the plot along. I thought this was a nice touch and it helped to keep the reader engaged. However, there were a few places where the dialogue felt a bit forced and unnatural. I would suggest reading your dialogue aloud to see if it sounds natural when spoken. If it doesn't, try rewriting it to sound more natural.\n\nI also noticed that you used a lot of description to set the scene. This is generally a good thing, but in some places it felt a bit overdone. Try to be more concise in your descriptions and focus on the most important details.\n\nOverall, I thought this was a well-written story. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "A little late and a little different but I wanted to contribute this\n\nI knew Anthony was a mind reader. Long before he told me. The way he stared at me and my over active imagination. The way he moved when ever a big plot twist came along. The look he gave when my character turned out to be evil. He told me soon enough before the summer or 6 grade begging me to not continue the story until I come back from summer vacation. That was the start of our friend ship. The start of the only time I ever had a friend. But things are changing now and things get harder as we grow older. \n\nThis weekend my world when\u2019t to shit. My Grandma, the person that more that anyone I was close to died. And in the middle of my parents devours I was not in a good head space. But my mom refused to let me stay home from school. So Monday morning I packed my undone homework. And went off to school. \n\nI shared my first period with Antony. It was math. As we walked into class I saw the look he gave me. The look that told me that he was looking forward to the next chapter of the pirate story I was spinning for him, and myself. I sat down and the teacher started to drown on and on about fractions of something, I wasn\u2019t listening. I tried to start my story. \n\n\u201cAnd the pirate queen rose from her throne. And stared down at Henry and said\u2026 and said\u201d\n\nI couldn\u2019t think of the next thing to say. Tears started to come to my eyes and I just wanted to run. Without thinking I stood up and ran out of the class room. I knew I would get detention but I didn\u2019t care. Nether would my parents. I wanted to run far far away to one of my stores. To just not have to deal with the shitty hand life dealt me. But I settled for a tree in the play yard. I slumped down and held my eyes in my nees begging for some magic Fairy God mother to fix my problems but nothing changed I wasn\u2019t transportation to my stories. I was startled when there was a tap on my shoulder and looked up. There was Anthony sitting next to me. \n\n\u201cYour  Grandma died this weekend\u201d he said  \u201cyour not handling well I see.\u201d \n\u201cYah\u201d I responded through broken sobs \u201cI loved her\u201d \n\u201cDo you want to talk about it\u201d \n\u201cNo\u201d\nSo we sat there side by side until the security came and got us and forced us back in to the class. At lunch Anthony pulled out a book from his backpack and handed it to me. There was my name on the cover.\n\u201cI made a book of your best stories and thought you would like a copy\u201d\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The first thing I noticed in this story is the use of present tense throughout. This creates a sense of immediacy and keeps the reader engaged. However, there are some places where the tense feels a bit off. For example, in the sentence \"I knew Anthony was a mind reader. Long before he told me,\" it would make more sense to say \"I knew Anthony was a mind reader long before he told me.\" This small change will help to create a more consistent tense throughout the story.\n\nAnother thing I noticed is the use of dialogue. The dialogue in this story is well done and adds to the story. However, there are a few places where the dialogue feels a bit choppy. For example, in the conversation between the protagonist and Anthony, there is a line of dialogue that just says \"Yah.\" This feels out of place and disrupts the flow of the conversation. A small change, such as having the protagonist say \"Yes,\" would help to make the dialogue feel more natural.\n\nOverall, this is a well-written story. The use of present tense creates a sense of immediacy, and the dialogue is well done. There are a few places where the tense feels a bit off and the dialogue feels a bit choppy, but these are small issues that can be easily fixed."}
{"prompt": "Everyday feels like blinking into a different universe, having my soul scattered throughout time and space. Everyone has thoughts, not all of them are interesting, but there is one channel I tune into everyday. One channel that I devote time and energy into tuning into. \n\nChannel Thuy. \n\nYou see, Channel Thuy has an ongoing story that is worth the watch. Every week, Monday through Friday for one hour before lunch during Homeroom she\u2019s been running her own fantasy story that has been going on for well over two years now, the characters really pull you in and the setting of Mordreem is fantastical and expansive. \n\nSo far, we gotten to what I\u2019ve been calling the Season Finale. She\u2019s reached a tough point, where her main character, Lynn, is at a moral and emotional fork in the road. \n\nEverything has pointed Lynn to avenging her family\u2019s death, defeating the Demon King Mondo, restoring peace and balance to the world and being able to settle down and - and- \n\nWell, that\u2019s it. Lynn doesn\u2019t know what to do after all this. Her whole life she\u2019s been focused on revenge. She realizes, after something that could only be considered Lynn falling into a rabbit hole and living her life normally with her family still alive, that she could never be normal. She has grown used to the path of revenge and accepted that in order to defeat Mondo that she must kill him, so that his toxicity can not linger and infest the planet. \n\nShe\u2019s thinking. She\u2019s been thinking about this same question for weeks now. Should she do that? Well, of course, it is for the good of her soul and the world that all the evil in Mordreem must be vanquished. She alone must do it to truly avenge her family. What about Lynn, though? What will she have to live for afterwards? She has lived the life of a lonely orphan Swordmaster for years, there\u2019s nothing more she can do. \n\nIt isn\u2019t like she could go home to a husband, make bread and butter and live domestically. Lynn is disappointed with her future and her past. \n\nWhat could ever change her mind?\n\nThuy is looking up now, answering a question from the professor. She is, of course, correct. She\u2019s been stressed out about her own life and what she should do with herself after high school. Thuy has always been a very friendly and almost popular person her whole life, she\u2019s not top of our class, but she is graduating with most of her honors, and her parents own the best restaurant in the city. \n\nI\u2019ve known Thuy ever since we were children. She never gets stuck like this with her brain plots. Not even in middle school when she had this odd obsession with killing off her main characters. No, it always fit the plot; Thuy always made sense and it was why I loved reading her thoughts. She was enigmatic and emotional, yet practical and realistic. At least, her brain was. \n\nI\u2019ve tried to talk to her and make friends before, but was always guarded and unintentionally kept to herself and her groups. She didn\u2019t have time to talk to me. I was the only kid in a private school who was a loner and many of my peers considered me controversial for being outspoken (hence, WHY I am a loner). \n\nThuy is also my neighbor and she used to be my best friend when we were younger. She and I used to play Princesses at my tree house or Mermaids in her swimming pool. We stopped being friends as soon as middle school started. When I was able to finally transfer to the same school as her. Before we were so excited by it, and we even planned our whole academic lives together. As soon as we got into the school building, we stopped being friends. It felt almost immediate, but it wasn\u2019t. \n\nI understand, but it only makes it all the more difficult being able to read not only Thuy\u2019s mind, but everyone else. I became very distant from others, because why be their friends when I can just read their inner most workings?\n\nLynn is back at her crossroads. Channel Thuy is back to her regularly scheduled program, folks. \n\nShe\u2019s recapping her last thoughts. She keeps doing this, where it feels like filler thoughts that lead up to the same question, and lately, has been coming to a disappointing answer. There is nothing about Lynn\u2019s life that she wants to live for once her revenge is sought out. \n\nJust then, Thuy makes eye contact with me. I can hear her thoughts. I know what she thinks about me, normally she doesn\u2019t think much about me at all. This time though, all I feel in her head is nostalgia back to when we played our games together. \n\nLynn is back, and as she starts to head towards Mondo\u2019s castle there\u2019s a melody coming from the swamp marshes around her. A siren\u2019s lamenting tale is pulling Lynn away, it is then that Lynn\u2019s eyes open wide.\n\nAnother filler episode. Great. Thanks, Thuy.\n\n\n\u2026\n        All I can hear, much like an echo through space is Thuy\u2019s voice. \u201cAt least I\u2019m more creative than you, Alice.\u201d\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The first thing I noticed in your story is that it is very choppy and difficult to follow. You have a lot of information in there that is not necessary to the story. For example, the entire section about Thuy's life and her thoughts about you are not needed and only serve to confuse the reader. You also have a lot of information about Lynn's backstory and the world she lives in that is not necessary to the plot of the story.\n\nOne of the biggest problems with your story is that it is very difficult to follow. You need to work on making your transitions smoother and your plot more clear. Additionally, you need to work on your dialogue. The dialogue in your story is very stilted and unnatural.\n\n Overall, your story has potential but it needs a lot of work. I suggest you focus on simplifying your plot and making your dialogue more natural."}
{"prompt": "There\u2019s a kid in my class who is a closeted writer. Jamie writes stories during lessons, sometimes even during tests. It\u2019s somewhat distracting, even though he sits across the room from me. Because I, am a mind reader.\n\nToday, Jamie is writing about a couple of his recurring characters - a self insert and an obscure superhero I never heard of. Or maybe the superhero is one of his OCs, who can say? The tale of the caped vigilante and himself never are actually about fighting crime. Instead, they are typically super slice of life where catching bad guys was almost an afterthought. \n\nFor example, last week they went out to dinner that was secretly a stake out, only to discover their target had pickpocketed them without their notice. Now, in a continuation of that storyline, the two are trying to figure out how to pay for dinner while also pursuing the target. \n\nThe most obvious answer - split up, didn\u2019t seem to have enough stakes. There\u2019s no tension in choosing both options. I listened to Jamie toy with having them both go after the target or both do something like the dishes to pay for dinner. Neither felt very satisfying. \n\nSuddenly, a spark of inspiration hit me. It was such a good idea, I had to resist walking over and telling him that very instant. Mostly because he hadn\u2019t written any of his story down (at least during class) and I would have no way of knowing about it besides mind reading. How could I let him know how to fix his story, without letting him know I am aware of his story?\n\nI decided to try telling my friend a fake story in earshot of Jamie, in hopes he uses it as inspiration. When Jamie is in earshot, I find a friend from my track team and begin my tale.\n\n\u201cDo you know what crazy thing happened to me last week?\u201d She voiced her dissent. From the corner of my mind, I could tell Jamie was listening, but not intentionally.\n\n\u201cMy family went out for dinner at that restaurant with the good Thai food, but right as our meal was getting served, a couple was caught trying to eat and run.\u201d\n\nHer mouth dropped open in surprise, \u201cNo.\u201d \n\nJamie was fully eavesdropping at this point. All according to plan.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d I nod. \u201cThey were being all subtle about it to, but then one of the people waiting to be seated called out to the hostess that they didn\u2019t pay. They freeze for a second, deer in the headlight style before they book it out of the building. A couple of the wait staff chased them around the parking lot, it was wild.\u201d\n\nI could already hear Jamie adding his own twist on the narrative. The stake out target alerting staff of a potential dine and dash. The restaurant chasing the dynamic duo while they in turn pursue their target.\n\nIt was all coming together nicely. A little too nicely. From that day on, I could feel Jamie be suspicious of me being a mind reader. It\u2019s not like I could tell him and expose my secret to the whole school. \n\nThe more i noticed him watching me, the more convinced I was that he would keep it a secret if it slipped out. None of my track friends knew. As much as I cared about them, none of them were particularly good secret keepers. Jamie, though, was the quiet sort who minded his own business. I liked that about him. \n\nr/bluestarsshatter\n\nAuthor\u2019s note: this is a small prequel from my My Girlfriend is a Mind Reader story you can read here on reddit\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story is intriguing and well-written. I particularly like the way you use the \"compliment sandwich\" method of feedback to provide constructive criticism. However, there are a few areas that could be improved.\n\nFirst, I would recommend using more specific and concrete language throughout the story. For example, instead of saying \"a couple of the wait staff chased them around the parking lot, it was wild,\" try saying \"two of the waiters chased them around the parking lot, and it was quite a sight.\" This will help to engage the reader more fully in the story.\n\nSecond, I would recommend providing more development on the characters in the story. What do they look like? What are their personalities like? Why do they want to be mind readers? Providing more development on the characters will help the reader to connect with them more fully.\n\nOverall, your story is intriguing and well-written. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "Every day I drink to the point that I can tolerate being around the fools around me. Not that I do.\n\nWizards? They are more like kittens playing around with yarn--it would be impossible to make them understand that what they're playing around with was not created solely for the purpose of their entertainment. As for me, I am different. I need to know where magic comes from, and I need to understand how it ended up in Stokacenor.\n\nI uncork another bottle, swiggle it around a little to wake up its contents, and I gorge myself with its contents. If it doesn't burn, you aren't drinking. You have to throw yourself into it with wild abandon because that is how you must face all things if you are to become the greatest wizard the world has ever seen. The smash of the bottle against the wall is a lovely sound. \"Sifieridum Maloceotris!\" The shards of glass reassemble themselves, hovering up into the air; the reflected light from the moon is visible in them to my great delight. I clear my throat. \"Chivborodum Magnisodesis!\" A sweet glug, glug, glug as the bottle fills. A red delight! All mine! Wine is a wonder and an unlimited supply of it? It almost makes it worth it, having put up with those insufferable scrotums prancing about in the 'Academy.'\n\nThe bottle hovers towards me and I stick out my tongue but my eyes are fastened on the page of the book in front of me. It's an old one. I had to break out Tier 5 magic just to make it somewhat readable. But its contents are all knew to me. 'The Heroic Struggles of Durn Blurn,' said the title and I scratched my long beard for a long while before deciding to check it out. That is another of my fine qualities: I search where others have not. So I learn what others never will.\n\n&gt; Durn Blurn was once an eyelash drifting around in the emptiness of space. Eons earlier he had fallen from his brethren comprising the left brow of the great Sacter. Durn Blurn drifted, and drifted, and drifted, until he fell into a rift. That rift was a portal to Stokacenor.\n\nI let drops of wine fall onto my tongue and I sip them up much like how a cat would. Sacter? The Initial Being? I have never heard this story before.\n\n&gt; Durn Blurn did not at first understand the world he had landed in. Where was all the magic?\n\nA ripple of delight flashes through me. Now we're getting somewhere!\n\n&gt; \"Magic not be in here place?\" asked Durn Blurn. \"But of reason why?\" He eyelashed all through the realm, seeing strange sights, and he came to realize that he had ended up a magic-free pocket of existence. Durn Blurn decided he would change things. \"Be magic,\" he said and Stokacenor was transformed. He thought for a long time before deciding on some spells. First, he invented Blogorandium Sifarilosi. \"Upside time,\" he said.\n\n... What? Blogorandium Sifarilosi is a Tier 3 levitation spell.\n\n&gt; Durn Blurn levitated across the realm until he stumbled on a little girl crying. \"What tears about?\" he wondered. He then saw a broken cup. Ah; entropy. A familiar scourge. Durn Blurn sagely created a spell to mend the problem, \"Not broke.\" We know it better, of course, as Sifieridum Maloceotris.\n\nThis is strange stuff. For a moment I just stare at the pages. I turn my head to see that I have spilled my wine on the floor of my study. \"Sifieridum Malo--\"\n\nIt feels ... strange. This book cannot be true, can it? Am I supposed to be believe these great spells have stupid meanings like that? And they were invented by an ... eyelash?\n\nI cast the spell and the wine slurps its way back into the bottle. I feel uneasy.\n\n&gt; Durn Blurn wanted to know about the problems of these strange creatures, so he created the spell Mifieroaenis Cilorefhax Bh'o. \"Durn Blurn time,\" he said. Any creature wishing to consult him could do so using the spell. Durn Blurn felt very pleased with himself.\n\nMaybe I would try it out, just as a joke? I looked around. No one's here. I opened my door. No one there either. I looked out the window. All clear. It's not silly if I'm just doing it as a joke. \"Mifieroaenis Cilorefax Bh'o!\"\n\nAs I expected, nothing happened. Of course. What was I thinking? This was just a book written for amusement, which was why no one but me had bothered to read it. I wasted my time with the most stupid things! Why didn't I just spend this day procrastinating instead?\n\n\"Durn Blurn time?\"\n\nThe most hideous man I had ever laid my eyes on stood right before me. I screamed.\n\n\"No big ear sounds. Durn Blurn sensitive ears. Small sound better.\"\n\nThe grotesque creature before me ... Could it be? Was it truly ...?\n\n\"Durn Blurn book! Very of good reading.\" The man made a wild grimace and gave me two thumbs up. He laughed. \"Shocked why so handsome?\" The beast *pouted*. \"Be so handsome spell,\" he explained.\n\n\"Chivborodum Magnisodesis!\" I cried. I was going to need more wine. Much more wine.\n\nTBC\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " You have a very interesting and unique writing style, and I enjoy reading your work. However, there are a few areas that could use some improvement. First, your grammar could use some work. I would recommend reading your work aloud to yourself or having someone else read it aloud to you to help catch errors. Second, your story is a bit confusing in parts. I would recommend being more clear in your writing, and making sure that each sentence flows smoothly into the next. Finally, I think you could add more description to your work to help paint a clearer picture for the reader. Overall, I think you have a lot of potential as a writer and I look forward to reading more of your work in the future."}
{"prompt": "It makes sense in practice. The code of the spells is tied to elements and location. Most people assume that the spell is creating effects. Magic makes you fly, magic becomes fire, but that\u2019s just not true. I am writing this all down because\u2026\n  \n\n  \nI look up from my journal, hearing footsteps approaching my door, \u201cOh hells.\u201d I grab my book and leap out the window, speaking arcane gibberish which roughly translates to \u201cWall is Floor\u201d reorienting my gravity to the wall of the building and running up it.\n  \n\n  \nAh, just as I assumed. The arcanists chasing me cast a fly spell to rush after me, but it makes them vulnerable to gravity manipulation as long as they aren\u2019t oriented to the floor. I cast the same spell.\n  \n\n  \nNow, can anyone guess what happens when a spell called \u201cDislike Floor\u201d meets \u201cWall is Floor?\u201d Well essentially it becomes \u201cDislike Wall\u201d and reorients their flight controls ninety degrees so instead of flying up, they are flying away from me.\n  \n\n  \nI smirk and end the spell on myself as I reach the roof. I should clarify, as of this point you don\u2019t know why anyone is chasing me, yes? Well, allow me to explain while I finish my journal entry. I was the first one to translate the arcane language in completion using a variety of arcane linguistics, mathematics, and code. \n  \n\n  \nBecause of this, I can actually work backward and create my own spells, instead of stumbling upon random ones by saying the right words accidentally. Those people chasing me, they control the arcane standard. They don\u2019t want my knowledge to get out because it makes them powerless. And yes, many mages are power-hungry, it's a natural byproduct of the occupation.\n  \n\n  \nLooks like they caught up to me again. I mumble a bunch of arcane gibberish which essentially comes out to \u201cSticky Floor\u201d as they land on the roof. It\u2019s a restraining spell, essentially. \n  \n\n  \nWhile they struggle to undo the spell, I cast \u201cObject Impregnation\u201d ah, yes, that probably sounded weird. So a lot of terms related to objects are biological. It\u2019s essentially an object duplication spell. My journal, now complete with the explanation of how spells work, begins duplicating, or, having babies, as it were. \n  \n\n  \nMy pursuers are now free and approaching me once more. I cast \u201cWrong Light\u201d which creates illusionary images of me in the wrong place to buy me time as I begin casting \u201cDifferent Floor\u201d on each of the journal clones, teleporting them to well, different floor.\n  \n\n  \nEventually, my pursuers find which one is the real me. I smile and turn to face them. It\u2019s too late, I\u2019ve already sent out all the journals. Soon all the world will know the truth. There\u2019s no use sticking around. But considering I\u2019m a much better mage than any of them, I draw my wand, \u201cLet\u2019s have some fun.\u201d\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of this story is very strong, and immediately draws the reader in with a sense of mystery. The first paragraph does a great job of worldbuilding and setting the scene for the story. However, the second paragraph feels a little bit exposition-heavy, and could be trimmed down to improve the pacing of the story.\n\nThe action scenes in this story are well written and easy to follow. The use of spells and magical jargon is well done and adds to the worldbuilding. However, there are a few places where the story could be tightened up, such as in the third paragraph, where there is a lot of telling instead of showing.\n\nThe ending of the story is satisfying, and wraps up the plot nicely. The twist is well done and unexpected. Overall, this is a well-written story with strong worldbuilding and interesting characters."}
{"prompt": "Rinkth appears at the nearest teleport, a speck about ten tails out. Galloping in what appears to be spellbound paces, she's beside me quickly, squinting at my chair.\n\n\"Still haven't cracked it?\" she quips, then looks about the open plain, sizing up what she can deduce of the small mount at whose base we are. Sky's clear and visibility is deep. We're lucky.\n\n\"Nope,\" I look down at my frozen legs, \"the biomagic is strong, but I've found my ways.\" I point toward the end of the clearing, where trees line a dense forest. Rinkth follows my point and I can tell when she catches the cave entrance, not huge but not far and discernible through the thicket.\n\n\"My time is expensive, old friend,\" Rinkth says after a moment of calculating what's ahead, then whispers codes that trigger the dissembly of her suit, space-ready by the looks of it. Last we spoke, she was on imperial guard contract with the alchemists in Martian-controlled Luna. Maybe she was still working that. She pulls out some sort of puffer and asks, \"What are we doing here?\" Then she takes a drag.\n\n\"I need help getting to someone in that cave,\" I say, unbuckling a sash of crystals. \"This should cover about a month of your time, but I think we can do it in about four days. There's a wizard there. I've got questions for them, and I need you to escort me. And protect me.\" \n\n\"This the farthest you could teleport? And you want me to push you through this... Terrain,\" Rinkth grabs the sash and bounces it a few times to see what's in store, then pockets it. \"This is serious compensation. The wizard is dangerous. We doing this alone?\"\n\nI smile, relieved. Rinkth trusts me, and Rinkth is brave, but she knows that many crystals means mortal danger. \n\n\"I hired three Antarcticians, assassins from the Tropical Wars. They arrive about two tails west of the cave entrance in the morning. Figure we get close to it tonight and set camp to rest, I've got some REM dust to help.\"\n\nRinkth clicks her teeth and cracks her knuckles, then stretches and moves behind me, grabbing the bar across my wheelchair's back and pushing. \"Tell me about the wizard,\" she says as we head toward the forest, the uneven ground giving me a bumpy ride.\n\n\"I cracked the Codae,\" I say and we stop moving. I can sense hesitation Rinkth rarely allows to be seen, but she swallows and pushes on. I continue, \"the foundational spells, they're not what we thought. They're simpler. Smarter. Cleaner. They're... Basic. I sourced them to this area and eagled for weeks looking for heat signatures. It's all right in that cave. But the wizard,\" I pause to consider my wording, still working it out myself, \"I believe the wizard is a child. A child in mind, perhaps grown in body, but a child with such immense spiritual magic it could deconstruct and reconstruct without training, or even schooling.\"\n\nWe continue in silence for a beat, and Rinkth asks, \" I don't understand why you predict so much danger then. Unless\u2014\"\n\n\"Yes, I think the child is angry. And I think the child is behind the sun cooling, and\u2014\" \n\nRinkth clears her throat and announces, \"Say no more, I don't need to\u2014I don't want to know. I've heard enough, and the rest is details and blood.\"\n\nNow that Rinkth is fully on board, I go back to meditating, running myself through the military-grade spells I've been studying, as well as the psychologic persuasions I dug up from the ancient orators. \n\nI whistle and sing one of Rinkth's favorite tunes from our school days, \"... And in our remaining days / We will again feel sun, sun, sunny.\" \n\nWe sing the rest together.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of your story is very strong and immediately draws the reader in. I particularly like the way you introduce the two main characters and the setting. However, there are a few small things you could improve. For example, you could describe the characters in a little more detail. What do they look like? What is their relationship to each other?\n\nYou also have a few typos and grammatical errors, which can be easily corrected. For example, you wrote \"Rinkth appears at the nearest teleport, a speck about ten tails out\" but it should be \"Rinkth appears at the nearest teleport, a speck about ten miles out\".\n\nOverall, this is a strong opening to a story with interesting characters and a compelling plot. I look forward to reading more!"}
{"prompt": "'I am not like the others,' you tell yourself in the mirror each morning and each night. 'I am better,' your mind adds, but you pretends not to hear it in case it jinxes you.\n\n&amp;#x200B;\n\nThere have only ever been two things in your life: Recognition and words. Your grandparents were successful magic researchers, same for your parents and it is the same for you. You excels at it.\n\n&amp;#x200B;\n\nSo when you learnt that your peers hung out without you or when the professor asked 'There is only one person left, anybody want another person in their group?', you folded up your loneliness and crudely put it in your robe pocket. Instead, you repeated to yourself 'It cannot be helped. I am not like them.'\n\n*I am better.*\n\n&amp;#x200B;\n\nOver the years, you have built up an image of an untouchable. You are a cold genius, a obsessive researcher and a hermit. When interviewed about your lifetime project, you mentioned decoding of the Magick language-turning spells into English words.\n\n&amp;#x200B;\n\nWords have always fascinated you. Their meanings, their sounds, the way they flash through your mind as you speak. People say you have a very clear way of speaking, and an even more pronounced way of casting spells. In reality, you are just rolling the words on your tongue, tasting the different ways they tumble off your lips.\n\nYou like the way each spoken word barely hang on to each other as you present your newest finding in front of a podium full of other researchers, your voice confident and commanding. You love the way the admiration and awe in their eyes clearly screaming \"You are different, you are different!\"\n\n*You are better.*\n\n&amp;#x200B;\n\nAt home, you only speak to yourself. Your voice becomes less assured, more emotional, and the ways words just cascade off like water makes the taste bland. So you get your kick from pronouncing spells loudly, clearly and watching the colorful sparks flying off at the tip of your wand.\n\nIncidentally, this was how you found out their meanings. First, it was the emotion reverberating off each spell. Combustio Aeris, the spell for fireball, is the most destructive when it is casted with fresh anger. Improbare Pavimentum, the spell for flying, raises objects highest when it is done with a carefree attitude. Then, it was the observing the trend from casting hundreds of spells that made you able to separate nouns from what can either be verbs or adjectives. Finally, it was carefully recorded trials-and-error that you were able to define the meaning of each word.\n\n&amp;#x200B;\n\nThus, on a cool autumn noon after countless weeks trying, you complete a Rosetta stone to decode the magical language. You start your newest report, sure to be a huge hit in the magic research world.\n\n\"Fireball-Combustio Aeris: Air burning\"\n\nFlying-Improbare Pavimentum: Dislike floor\n\nFetch-Dare Hodie: Give now\n\nLower Temperature-Improbare fervor: Dislike heat\"\n\nAt this point, you are feeling a little ridiculous. Who named spells like this? If it was you, you would have never named a flying spell \"dislike floor\" of all things.\n\n*Or would you? If you are so much better than an Ancient, than anyone, then what would you name a flying spell?*\n\nYou struggle to come up with an answer to that. Maybe just \"fly\". But \"fly\" is ordinary, not fit for someone special like you. Or maybe \"levitate\", but isn't it a synonym? A synonym is practically the same word, it's stupid-\n\n*The result of the report is stupid. You have been dedicating much of your life to translating spells, yet this is what they came to, I cannot present this to the council, it will taint my image of a successful, established-*\n\nSuddenly you stopped thinking. You realized you have been speaking out loud all this time.\n\n*Like a freak, an outcast, a loner, a-*\n\nYou are vaguely aware of the parchments spreading around you like a spiral. They are all meticulously written and neatly spaced, proof of your abundance of alone time.\n\nTo the world and the your parents, you are the successful and passionate researcher. Yet privately, you are just a lonely person who has nothing better to do or anyone to do things with.\n\nIn fact, how long has it been since the last time anyone has seen the interior of your house, of you?\n\n*It has been twenty, no twenty three, no, not since-*\n\nThe truth is pouring out on you too fast, drowning you underneath its crushing reality. As your thoughts descend to tears and pity and grief, some still remain coherent:\n\n*You have been running away all this time. You are not better than them.*\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story is well-written and engaging. However, there are a few areas that could be improved.\n\nFirst, your use of dialogue is a bit stilted and awkward. In particular, the way you have the protagonist speaking to themselves in their head sounds forced and unnatural. Try to make the dialogue sound more natural and organic.\n\nSecond, the story feels a bit choppy in places. In particular, the way you jump from the present to the past tense and back again is a bit jarring. Try to be more consistent in your tense usage.\n\nOverall, your story is well-written and engaging. With a few tweaks, it could be even better."}
{"prompt": "My first time answering a prompt, I hope this will be to your liking.  \nMight be a bit dark\u2026\n\n\u201cGrandpa.\u201d The young girl called as she entered the kitchen.  \n\u201cWe have another order of spaghetti.\u201d  \n\u201cSure thing sweetie.\u201d The elderly man replied.  \nHe pointed a finger at the wet dough and cast \u201cDry the wet!\u201d followed by \u201cWater Collector!\u201d The dough dried just enough to be cut into the proper shape and the bubble of water followed his finger into the pot waiting on the stove.With the recent law about saving resources and a big fine to whoever fail to do that, it was better to save any drop of water, the kingdom already get enough money with their ridiculous taxes.\n\n\u201cPlease tell the guests it will be ready in a couple of minutes.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes grandpa.\u201d The girl answered, she held a tray with several pints of nicely cold ale.\n\nNot a minute past and the girl released a scream followed by the sound of glass shattering on the floor.\n\n\u201cNo way out!\u201d The old man cast and every exit from the building was closed shut.Arriving to the dining hall, he saw several guests holding a man so he won\u2019t escape.The girl was sitting on the floor, sobbing, her palm cut deeply from a shard of glass.He quickly restored the glass and tended his grandchild wound.\n\n\u201cRestore nerves!\u201d, \u201cRestore blood!\u201d, \u201cRestore skin!\u201d One after the other, the spells healed her hand, it may took a bit longer to cast, but it was more effective than a simple \u201cheal\u201d.\n\n\u201cTake her.\u201d He gestured to an elf in the crowd.\u201cWhat did you do?\u201d He asked the suspect, eyes full of barely contained rage. \u201cI did noth-\u201d The suspect couldn\u2019t finish his words as a dagger was placed very close to his neck. \u201cHe slapped her behinds!\u201d The captor with the dagger said. \u201cThen he threw her on the floor!\u201d  \n\u201cIt\u2019s a lie!\u201d The suspect yelled.  \nThe old man looked at his grandchild as she nodded. Even the guards who usually ignored bar fights were visibly upset at hearing this.\n\nIt was the suspect time to yell in agony as both his arms were dried, every fiber of nerve signaling in pain as they perished from dehydration.\n\n\u201cYou came to my establishment.\u201d The old man said. \u201cYou ate the food we made for you and you dare laying your dirty hands on my granddaughter?!\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d  \n\u201cShut up!\u201d This spell shattered his teeth.  \nHe restored hydration to the criminal\u2019s arms, which in turn caused more pain.  \n\u201cMaybe your arms will regain motor skills, hopefully they won\u2019t.\u201d\n\nHe then carved ancient runes on the criminal\u2019s arms and legs, finally he cast \u201csurveillance\u201d.  \n\u201cI will know if you\u2019ll try again to harm a woman, the next time you do, well\u2026 Your remains will paint the whole street. Now begone!\u201d and he threw him out of the now unlocked window.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of your story is promising, with the description of the grandpa's kitchen and the magical spells he casts. I was initially engaged by the story. However, the middle of the story lost me a bit. I wasn't entirely sure what was happening, and the story felt a bit disjointed. I think you could benefit from focusing on developing a clearer plot and more concrete characters.\n\nThe ending of the story redeemed it for me a bit. I thought the grandfather's use of magic to punish the man who harmed his granddaughter was creative and satisfying. Overall, I think with a bit more development, this could be a really strong story."}
{"prompt": "\"Look! That famous celebrity will visit our city!\" he exclaimed, pointing to the TV. \"There's going to be a publicity event for the film you got us tickets to\"\n\nHis boyfriend smiled and nodded. \"That's right, I think that's because the film is based on a local legend. You know, the one about the cheerleader who ended up being a serial killer in the 80's?\"\n\nJames nodded. He definitely knew the story, he went to the same high school as that girl, so people talked about it almost every day.\n\n\"I'm pretty sure we could go together,\" James said. \"You're always talking about the movie, I know you'd like it.\"\n\nRyan grimaced.\n\n\"I'd love to, but I have a work trip that week, remember?\"\n\nJames deflated. \"Oh, yeah. I forgot...\"\n\n\"Hey, what about this.\" James looked up at the sound of his boyfriend's voice. \"I'll try to sneak out of that day's meetings and we can go to the event together. The other city isn't too far anyway, so I won't have to travel for too long.\" Ryan smiled. \n\nJames nodded enthusiastically. \n\n\"Sounds like a plan!\" \n\n----------------\n\nIt was a terrible plan. James has been in the queue for the event for hours and hasn't received a single text from Ryan. Did he forget? Was he able to cancel his meetings? What if his car crashed on the way here and James was a terrible boyfriend for being at a celebrity event instead of at his side?\n\nHis phone pinged with a message.\n\n&gt;*Where are you?*\n-\n\n&gt;*I'm near the door, we'll be able to get in as soon as they let us. U here yet?*\n\nJames sighed. He's been here for hours, since he wanted to get in early to get a good place for his boyfriend. \n\nHe felt really lonely in the middle of the crowd. Most of these people were probably dying to get a glimpse of the actors, while James was just there to spend time with his boyfriend. The people on the posters were unknown to him, and it doesn't help that the actors all look like generic famous people. You know the type: fair-skinned, conventionally attractive, symmetric faces, the whole deal. Although, one of the main actors kinda looked like his boyfriend. That would be fun to tease him about, maybe it was the hair? \n\nHe checked his messages.\n\n&gt;*Find the nearest service entrance to the left, gotta show you something*\n\nJames frowned.\n\n&gt;*I'll lose our place in the queue. We won't be able to get in if I leave, there's too many people.*\n-\n&gt;*Trust me on this one ;)*\n-\n&gt;*If we don't get in I'm going to be mad. I've been waiting for hours.*\n\nHe pocketed his phone and reluctantly got out of the queue. He felt a little awkward on his way there, all of the people going in and out of the door were obviously related to the event. Did Ryan sneak in? \n\nHe looked around, but he couldn't see his boyfriend. He quickly called him, not wanting to get in the way of the workers. \n\n\"*Hi babe!*\" the sound of his boyfriend's voice greeted him. He was definitely there, judging by the sounds of people that were coming through the phone. \n\n\"Ryan, it's me. Where are you and why did you make me go to the service entrance? I can't see you anywhere.\" \n\n\"*Wait, let me go get you.*\" Again, the sound of rustling and a few 'excuse me's could be heard. \"*Look at the door, babe.*\" \n\nJames looked up and saw his boyfriend waving at him from the other side of the door. Wide-eyed, he approached him and ended the call.\n\n\"What are you doing here? How did you get in?\" He asked while following him inside.\n\n\"I said I wanted to show you something\". Ryan answered nonchalantly, before taking his hand and guiding him through a door.\n\nThe room looked a lot like a dressing room. It was definitely a dressing room, so why did his boyfriend take him there?\n\n\"I know you're probably confused, so let me explain.\" Ryan said after closing and locking the door. \"I've kinda been lying to you. A little. By omission.\" He grimaced.\n\nJames smiled nervously, looking around. \"I'm a little worried now. Care to explain how you've been lying to me?\"\n\nHis boyfriend nodded.\n\n\"Well, I kind of didn't tell you because being with you was really comfortable, but this is the biggest project I've worked on yet and people are definitely going to start bothering us about me so...\" He took a deep breath. \"I'm an actor. In this film, specifically. Most of my work trips and my weird hours are from filming and other events. That's also why we always hand out at your apartment and why I like our dates to be in private places\"\n\nJames could only stare at him. That was not the worst thing that could have happened. But it was really unexpected and it was weird that he never noticed.\n\n\"Are you mad?\" Ryan asked, grimacing. \n\nJames blinked. \n\n\"it's... definitely something. I'm mostly confused as to why you didn't tell me before. Or how I didn't notice. Is this your movie then?\" \n\nRyan nodded. \n\n\"I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to treat me differently once you new. And, well, you didn't notice mostly because you're very face blind.\" He offered a weak smile. \"There was a poster of my on a billboard right in front of your appartment for weeks, one time.\"\n\n\"There was a what?\" James asked dumbfounded. \n\nHis boyfriend laughed. \n\n\"Yeah, we walked right past it when people were putting it up and I was mortified thinking you'd notice it's me and we'd break up but you only looked at it for a second and then said 'damn, he's hot' and kept walking.\" Ryan walked closer to him. \"You're not mad?\" \n\nJames shook his head. \n\n\"I kind of get it. I just wish you had told me sooner.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"Dont worry about it.\" \n\nJames frowned a little, remembering something. \n\n\"I was actually going to tell you that one of the actors look like you. But it's you, right?\" \n\n\"Yeah, it's me.\" Ryan giggled.\n\n\"\"Well, uh. He's hot.\"\n\nThey both bursted into laughter. \n\n\"So, are you going to introduce me to your other, famous, coworkers?\" James asked, a small smile on his lips. \n\n\"Uh, actually you've met two of them. Twice.\" James covered his face, embarrassed. Ryan took his hands away from his face and kissed his forehead. \"Buy yeah, I'll reintroduce you to them and introduce you the rest.\"\n\n\"\n\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Starting with a compliment, I really enjoyed the short story and the plot line. The idea of the boyfriend being a famous actor and the protagonist not knowing was a really interesting twist. I also liked how the story was set up, with the exposition at the beginning and then the climax at the end.\n\nConstructive criticism wise, I would work on developing the characters a bit more. As it stands, the reader doesn't really know much about the protagonist or the boyfriend. What are their hobbies? What do they like to do for fun? What are their hopes and dreams? Answering these questions will help the reader connect with the characters more and make them more three-dimensional.\n\nEnding with another compliment, I thought the ending of the story was really well done. It wrapped up the plot nicely and left the reader with a feeling of satisfaction."}
{"prompt": "Breaking up over text isn't exactly classy, but I ironicly couldn't look her in the eyes \"Okay for future ref, taking advantage of someone's disability for personal benifit is a dick move. So is lying about your name. Wait... we cosigned on a condo together, did you commit fraud? WAIT! Is this why you wouldn't meet my parents? Oh god they must have though I was insane, I showed them a picture of us, they probably think I photoshopped that. AGH! You ruined my life!\"\n\nI smacked my head against a wall. I was hiding behind humour, I always did \"Do you have any idea how much this hurts me? How hard it is every day looking in the mirror and seeing a nobody. As a child I used to follow strange women around the mall, convinced they were my mother till they shouted at me and I had to sit alone crying in the security office while they tracked my family down. I'm frightned of losing sight of the people I care about because to me everyone is an imposter. And you thought it was okay to lie to me? To take advantage of me. You never told me, not after monthes or years, not after I got to know the real you. You didn't trust me, and I can never trust you again\" I hit send. I didn't read the reply.\n\nI don't know what her life became after that. Well I do, she's one of the most public people in the world and she seemed to be doing fine for herself. I knew she would hate it, she hates attention. I missed her badly. But I couldn't forgive her, she had known about my condtion before I opend up to her about it, pretended not to. And she never even told me her name.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening sentence of your story is very intriguing and sets up the reader for the rest of the tale. However, I feel that the dialogue in the second paragraph could be tighter and more natural. It feels a bit stilted and forced in places.\n\nYou have a strong voice and a clear writing style. I like the way you use humor to offset the more serious moments in the story.\n\nThe ending of the story is very powerful and leaves the reader with a lot to think about."}
{"prompt": "Their first date started out like an offensive joke: a murderer and a prosopagnostic walk into a bar. The bartender says, \"Hey miss, I've got some old dudes out back, wanna take a sip?\" The prosopagnostic woman just sighs, and motions for her date to leave, annoyed that the memory of her \"promotion\" had left her before it left the minds of the general public. Her date however, was frozen, eyes locked on the bartender. He responded, \"What's your problem miss? Now either buy a drink or leave before I make the decision for you.\" Trembling, she stood up; it was all happening too soon.\n\nThe television cast a dull glow over the small apartment; ramon and chill wasn't the ideal replacement for a date, but neither of them had enough cash for anywhere other than the bar. The local news station grunted out reports of random, uninteresting events as they talked, more background noise than anything else. They avoided the happenings at the bar; both thought it was them, since even murders make there way to small towns, but no one ever forgets a bribe. There was a wall between them, but even as the television broadcast the poor date's name through the air like it did five time a day, their eyes never unlocked. Normalcy was something to be valued, and it was the least she could do to give the murderer normalcy for a few hours before the police arrived. After all, names travel faster than faces.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are a few areas that need improvement. First, your story is choppy and difficult to follow in places. There are several jarring transitions that make it hard for the reader to follow the flow of the story. Second, your characters are not well-developed and it is difficult to feel invested in their story. The plot is also somewhat difficult to follow. Finally, your ending is abrupt and unsatisfying.\n\nThat being said, there are also some good aspects to your story. The premise is interesting and unique, and your writing style is engaging. With some revision, this could be a really strong story."}
{"prompt": "\"I have to be careful with it. I didn't realize that at first,\" Alex said. They turned stared into their half filled coffee cup absently for a few moments, as if about to continue. But did not.\n\n\"Careful? Why?\" Steve asked, incredulous that his friend was so worried. \"You're just average at everything. You'll never be a super star at anything. You can just coast. Live easy doing whatever you like.\"\n\n\"Steve, I'm average at *everything*. Do you remember what we did last week?\" Alex drained the last of their coffee, glancing toward the barista and making a motion to flag them down for another. The barista seemed like she might have noticed, but Alex couldn't tell and let it go.\n\nSteve scrunched up his face while thinking hard. He and Alex hung out nearly every day. People joked about them being a couple, and it was all but true. Still.... \"It's so odd, I can't remember anything. But we always hang out. It would have really been something I noticed. Did... did you do something with your power?\"\n\nAlex nodded slowly, taking a moment to reply. \"Not on purpose. But yes. I thought too much about things. I'm learning to be careful what I think about. I thought about all the people that *could* exist, but don't. An infinite number that don't. A finite number that do.\"\n\nAfter a moment, Steve's eyes went wide. \"Wait. So the average *possible* person...\"\n\n\"Please don't say it. I'm already having trouble shutting this out of my mind. I still need to learn to control it better. This is the power of a god.\" Alex squeezed their coffee mug tightly, fingers whitening at the joints.\n\n\"I mean...\" Steve began slowly, \"not like the best god or anything.\" He smiled wryly and grabbed Alex's shoulder, giving them a little shake. \"Come on, this is gonna be a blast. Just think for a minute. Really think about it.\" Alex looked up at him with incredulity, staying silent. \"Buddy. You might not do great at this. But you're guaranteed to do about average, and I figure that's not bad.\"\n\nAlex thought for a minute, then relaxed, a smile creeping onto their face. \"You always know what to say to make me feel better, Steve. Ok, watch this.\" Alex snapped their fingers and in a flash, both of their mugs were filled again. \"Ha!\"\n\nThe coffee was so-so.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The coffee was so-so.\n\nThis is a great example of \"showing not telling\". The coffee being average is a subtle detail that speaks volumes about the character's average life and how they feel about it."}
{"prompt": "\"And in breaking news our newest member of the hero society awakened his powers during the rescue of a kitten announced a member of a newscast, apparently our hero was incidentally also trapped in the burning abyss and that is when his powers kicked in. Our hero Tri...\n\n\"Great another member of our society has awakened his powers declared a middle aged man while clicking off the teleprompter with his remote, and here i am almost in my thirties without any super powers. Everyone in my family has obtained their super powers without having to lift as much as a finger and I  who has dedicated every waking minute super hero training, have yet to achieve anything above average. \n\nThe young man stared at his sandwich which was not extraordinary but exceptional.\n\n\"Even this sandwich is nothing to write home about, thought the exceptional young man. \n\nHe sat and wondered if he would ever get his powers in time to attend the super hero convention held once a year. \n\nEureka! Maybe my super power is to be exceptional at everything I attempt announced the man, and that is why i have yet to accomplish any extraordinary feats. That has to be the reason. I knew God had a plan for me.\n\n\"The astounded man began to marvel at his entire apartment as if it was the first time he had been blessed with the sense of sight. He began to admire every detail the light in the room provided.\" \n\n\"Everything seems average, concluded the man with an awe inspiring tone, my power has finally been revealed. It is hard to believe that the truth was sitting right in front of me the whole time. The blinds I put up last week serve as proof of my talent. They installed exceptionally well.\" \n\nThe man's interest did not halt with the blinds. He inspected the whole house. Everything he had did himself was revised and graded according to function and design. He approved of all his past endeavors.\n\n\"Come to think of it, proceeded the man in thought, I have always been remarkably average at everything I have done. \n\nThe man began to wonder at the endless possibilities now achievable with his newly discovered super power.\n\n\"I always wanted to go to the moon claimed the man, it is about time i gave it a shot. \n\nJust then he heard his phone ring and his door resonate sounds of beatings from the other side. \n\n\"Just a minute, yelled the hero, Hello? \n\n\"Hi we have been notified by our radar that a new hero has emerged in your vicinity. Have you or anyone in the residence discovered any sort of skills or talents that could be of use to the Interstellar federation?\"\n\n\"Open the door Ted, demanded a feminine voice from the other side of the blockade, these groceries weigh a ton.\" If you do not open the door you can forget about dessert!\"\n\n\"Sir we can hear there are other people present, scrambled the voice on the other end of the line, we can call at another time. But we must advise that if you are the person we seek it is of the up most importance that you keep your identity concealed. All of the known heros who were once fighting to keep the peace have been corrupted by the very people who awarded them their official titles. \n\n\"Ted,\" cried the voice from the other side of the door. You know how much I hate it when you make me feel unimportant. Whatever you can cook your own dinner then!\n\nAnyone who was present could hear a loud thud followed by a few footsteps that signified a two legged entity's departure.\n\n\"I have to go, admitted Ted, but i will return your call as soon as I can. I discovered my super power moments ago but I doubt that it could be of any use to the Interstellar Federation. \n\nTed hung up the phone and raced out of the door hopping over a bag of toppled over groceries at the doorway. He sprinted past a couple, who were on their way to free themselves of the layers of clothing needed to navigate through the city while keeping themselves away from the grasps of hypothermia.\n\n\"Hey Ted, shes on her way towards the elevator declared the couple, you can still catch her if the elevator is not working. \n\n\"Thanks guys and happy holidays, said ted as he rushed past them, I will ask Jenny to make her special Christmas. I will let you guys know how it goes.\n\nHe turned to face foward and saw a small women jabbing at the elevator buttons.\n\n\"Jenny, gasped Ted, please wait. I was on the phone with some very important people and...\n\n\"And what Ted, demanded the Jenny, don't tell me the interstellar federation finally called and are looking for you to help them on a mission to save the planet from its pending destruction. You know what Ted? Whenever you decide what is important in your life you can call me until then i will be at my sister's. Bye Ted.\n\n\"Hold on Jenny\" protested Ted, what if i told you the people i was on the phone line were very important. What if I told you they were capable of changing our entire lives as we know them.\n\n\"I love you Ted, admitted Jenny, but I do not have time for this right now.\n\nDing! The elevator's doors opened as if on cue with the end of the conversation. Just then Ted's phone began playing Mozart's Senerade. Ted did not know whether to save his ten year relationship with his significant other or answer the phone call that could be the beginning of his legacy. In a moments notice he answered the phone call. \n\n\"Don't talk just listen, requested a deep voice, you are one of the very limited number of heroes left that could possibly save the planet from its pending doom. The Interstellar Federation is requesting for you to drop everything and meet with the remaining heroes that have been able to keep their identities hidden from the public. It seems like the heroes that we once counted on for protection and security have become corrupted in their ways. We advise you to pack any important belonging and be prepare for pick you up.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of your story is very strong. You introduce the conflict quickly and efficiently. However, I would suggest being a bit more concise with your language. For example, the sentence \" apparently our hero was incidentally also trapped in the burning abyss and that is when his powers kicked in\" could be shortened to \"Our hero was also trapped in the burning abyss and that is when his powers kicked in.\"\n\nYou have a strong voice throughout the story. Your use of detail really brings the reader into the world you've created. For example, the paragraph about the man inspecting his apartment is very well done.\n\nThe story ends abruptly, which may be intentional, but I would suggest adding a sentence or two to wrap up the story. For example, you could have the man reflect on his conversation with Jenny and what he's going to do next.\n\nOverall, this is a strong story with a unique voice. I enjoyed reading it."}
{"prompt": "AITA for trying to help a woman get out of an abusive relationship?\n\nSo basically I have this work rival and he shows all the signs of being an abuser. He punches holes in walls, he is very full of himself, he seems so unfeeling I'd say like a brick wall, but honestly more like titanium. And he has this crazy death stare he can give sometimes.\n\nAnyway, due to work out personal lives are unfortunately also intertwined. After doing some thinking I decided to pick up his girlfriend for some tea and try to really change her mind about her relationship with him.\n\nThen waddaya know, this dude literally busts my door down (after assaulting my groundskeepers!) And rushes her away before she would even have a chance to protest. Classic abusive relationship stuff.\n\nYet for some reason most of the people we know always take his side on things\n\nAITA?\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " First of all, congratulations on tackling a difficult and heavy subject matter. It is not easy to write about abuse, but you have done so with sensitivity and thoughtfulness.\n\nThere are a few areas I would suggest you work on, in order to take your story to the next level. First, I would recommend using more concrete and specific language. For example, rather than saying your rival is \"very full of himself,\" you could describe how he carries himself in specific ways that convey his arrogance.\n\nSecond, I would recommend using dialogue more effectively to move the story forward and reveal character. Right now, much of the story is told through exposition, which can be a bit dry and difficult for readers to engage with.\n\nFinally, I would recommend ending the story on a more powerful note. Perhaps the protagonist could have a conversation with the girlfriend after the incident, in which she reveals her true feelings about the relationship.\n\nThese are just a few suggestions - overall, you have written a moving and thought-provoking story. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "AITA for\u2026 well, let\u2019s just get right into this.\n  \n\n  \nI was a hero, once. What they don\u2019t tell you about being the hero is the bureaucracy. I felt I was gifted my power for a reason and it would be wrong of me to waste them, but I could not handle the leash I was placed on.\n  \n\n  \nThere are all these laws about property damage and image, what jurisdiction we have to not interfere with the police or military forces. Some choose to implement themselves into them, but I could never adhere to that type of community.\n  \n\n  \nI don\u2019t work well with people, I hate the spotlight. While other superheroes flashed a smile and signed autographs for adoring fans, I tried my best to retreat into darkness. I never wore my superhero outfit except when necessary. For others, it became their life. I had my own and did not want it consumed by this government monstrosity that keeps us chained.\n  \n\n  \nEventually, they began to notice that they did not have me on as tight a leash and tried to change that. I kept trying to distance myself from their shackles, but they grew ever tighter. One day, I snapped.\n  \n\n  \nThey were putting up a series of statues for new superheroes to honor them. I did not mind that they did not include me, but it was a way to send a message: that I would not put up with their bullshit any longer. I destroyed the statues.\n  \n\n  \nEver since then society has painted me as the enemy. I became what they wanted, a scapegoat. It was easier if society could imagine I was the corrupt one and the rest of the world would be cleansed without me. I paid the price for thinking.\n  \n\n  \nI grew more bitter with each passing day. Those bastards could get away with anything, and I nothing. I made more public displays, each time leaving messages behind. I never killed anyone, only destroyed government property.\n  \n\n  \nThe only thing the news talked about is what a tragedy it was. And yes, when I attacked the police station it did have unforeseen consequences, but change is messy, is it not? I have no voice any longer, action is my only platform.\n  \n\n  \nI say I was a hero, once, but in truth, I know not what I was or what I am. I don\u2019t believe those smiling celebrities are heroes. Perhaps heroism is a myth, one I was stupid enough to buy into.\n  \n\n  \nCrime is up now, so is unemployment and government debt. Society blames me. Do you?\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of your story is intriguing and makes the reader want to know more. You set up the conflict well and hint at the protagonist's frustration with the superhero bureaucracy. However, the story feels a bit scattered after the opening and could use more focus. For instance, you could provide more detail about the protagonist's experiences as a superhero and how the bureaucracy began to wear on them.\n\nYou have a strong voice and you're obviously passionate about your subject matter. However, the story feels a bit like a rant and could use more development. For instance, you could explore the reasons behind the protagonist's actions more deeply. What motivates them to keep fighting even when society has turned against them?\n\nOverall, you have a strong story with interesting potential. I would recommend focusing more on developing the conflict and the protagonist's motivations."}
{"prompt": "\u2b06\ufe0f ^(Posted by ImmovableGoddess 4 hours ago  \ud83c\udfc6 5\ud83c\udf0b\ud83d\udd252\ud83d\udca5\u2620 \ud83c\udf0a) \n\nAITA **For refusing to get out of the way for a ship full of people?**\n\n(Long POST- Names have been changed)\n\n\ud83e\uddca\ud83e\uddca\ud83e\uddca\ud83e\uddca\ud83e\uddca\ud83e\uddca\ud83e\uddca\ud83e\uddca\ud83e\uddca\ud83e\uddca\ud83e\uddca\ud83e\uddca\ud83e\uddca\ud83e\uddca\ud83e\uddca\ud83e\uddca\ud83e\uddca\ud83e\uddca\ud83e\uddca\ud83e\uddca\n\nOkay, so I (25F) am just minding my own business, floating in the sea happily on a nice, icy cold night, and it's been like a really long day at work, so it could explain why I was so cranky. I mean this was late at night, people. This was at like 11PM, it's almost midnight. I shouldn't have even been out, I am not going to lie, but it was the weekend and I was just trying to have some fun with my friends . So my friends and I are all having an awesome time floating around, chilling, and all of the sudden this ship full of people, let's call him, Gerald, (M) comes up to me, like barreling down at like 20 knotts. ((Honestly, it was probably more like 22 knotts or even 24 knotts.))\n\nAnyways, my friends all agree as we are watching this happen, that this is insane. It's 11PM , people should be sleeping, you should be going slower at night too (Isn't there like a law for that kind of thing?IDK)\n\nSo anyways, this big ship was all like \"MOVE OUT OF THE WAY!!\" as it comes barreling at me at some crazy speed. \ud83d\udca6 \n\nOKAY, so this is probably totally bad behavior on my part, like I said I was tired and had a long day at work. When the ship was coming at me, and all my friends were watching (sort of egging me on, not going to lie) , I just .... I just didn't move. \n\nHonestly it would have been no problem, but I don't know. It was in the moment, and there was all this yelling and screaming and dying, and I was too tired to think right.\n\nWas I too stubborn? Should I have been the bigger person?\n\nIf you are just standing there, and some guy tells you to move out of the way for *HIM* , is it so wrong to say \"Uh, No!\". Why does he have the right of way, and I don't? It just really hurt my feelings, that this guy comes up to me and tells me to move, and what- I just obey?\n\nWhy because he is a man and I am an Iceberg? \ud83d\udeabThat's discrimination in my mind!\ud83d\udeab\n\nSo long story short, all these people like froze to death in the water after Gerald went full speed ahead and bumped into me. I shoved him off of me, and I didn't know the guy only had like two hulls. If I had known he had two hulls, I would have been way more gentle, or even just moved.\n\nI think they said like 1,500 people died in the water, so honestly I was pretty bummed about it. You know, I could see all those little cute humans just drowning in the water there, but I am not CPR certified or any of my friends, so we just bounced and didn't look back.\ud83e\udd76\n\nI feel really bad guys. I don't know, what do you think? Was I the asshole, or was I just standing up for my rights?\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " GPT3 error: 'charmap' codec can't encode characters in position 411-412: character maps to <undefined>"}
{"prompt": "AITA for destroying a universe?\n\nNow, before you start judging, let me explain.\n\nSo I was doing my thing, being the god of darkness and destruction and all that, when I came across a universe that was filled with mortal life forms. Now, I despise mortal life forms, and this universe\u2019s dominant ones in particular were\u2026 not very smart, to say the least. They were not good at keeping their energy-creating processes eco-friendly, wiping out the populations of inhabited planets within a decade of landing on them. By the time I noticed them, they\u2019d eliminated all life forms on all the planets of at least half of their universe\u2019s galaxies. I\u2019d usually enjoy watching that kinda stuff happen, but even I found it stupid how they did absolutely nothing to stop it; heck, it didn\u2019t seem like they cared or even noticed it at all. So I figured I\u2019d\u2026 give them a hand, as the best way to put it would be. I moseyed on over to their universe, kinda just made a Big Crunch happen, and\u2026 bloop. Universe destroyed.\n\nOf course, the goddess of light and creation got super mad at me, saying how \u201cyou should\u2019ve given them a chance\u201d, \u201callowed me to handle them\u201d, \u201cI\u2019d kick you off the Divine Council if I could\u201d, blah blah blah. I know the next Divine Council meeting, which is coming up in just a few weeks, won\u2019t go down so well, so I figured I\u2019d get some advice from you mortals on what to do.\n\nAITA?\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The start of this story is very strong, it immediately draws the reader in with its opening line. The use of second person point of view is also effective in making the reader feel as though they are a part of the story. However, there are a few areas where the prose could be improved. For example, the sentence \" Now, before you start judging, let me explain.\" could be rewritten as \"Before you start judging me, let me explain.\" This would make the sentence sound more natural.\n\nIn general, the story is well written and engaging. The use of humor is also effective in keeping the reader interested. However, there are a few areas where the prose could be improved. For example, the sentence \"So I was doing my thing, being the god of darkness and destruction and all that, when I came across a universe that was filled with mortal life forms.\" could be rewritten as \"I was doing my thing as the god of darkness and destruction when I came across a universe filled with mortal life forms.\" This would make the sentence sound more concise and flowing.\n\nOverall, this is a well-written and humorous story. However, there are a few areas of the prose that could be improved. With a few minor tweaks, this story could be even stronger."}
{"prompt": "Am I the asshole for trying to redistribute wealth?\n\nIn America, we have so many rich people that hoard so much money, that if you earned 100 dollars a day since the day Jesus was born, you still wouldn't have as much money as Jeff Bezos.\n\nElon Musk bought Twitter for about 44-45 BILLION dollars. That amount, if given to every single American as per the US census bureau in 2022, would be about $135 dollars. For a purchase that could be argued was solely based out of either boredom, or to protect his fragile fragile ego. \n\nWe have mothers struggling to feed their children formula nationwide, where more and more states are rolling back abortion laws forcing more women to have children they don't want. This is all done to perpetuate the religious compound that exists within America: neglected children are a breeding ground for churches, making unwanted forced term pregnancies a valuable source of future income. You can't sustain religion if you're not having kids, and you can't make it out of poverty if you're forced to take care of some human you don't want and bestowed consciousness on without consent. \n\nWe have bridges collapsing and tarnished water in cities. We have people buying jets and multiple car garages while having the lower class rely on busses and metros to survive, and forced to never thrive.\n\nI'm done pretending this is all on accident, and that the majority of these poor people are lazy; IMO if you believe that you're more disconnected than I thought. \n\nWe need a massive revolutionary redistribution of the wealth of the 1% to be redistributed among all Americans so ALL can benefit. There's no need for mega yachts that can hold world ending parties on them while politicians and wealthy people alike suck the very teet of the person they allow to have that much money.\n\nI could very well be the asshole, but am i? For only wanting a better life for all Americans by taxing the rich on income they don't NEED?\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " You have a lot of good ideas in this piece, and you make some valid points about income inequality in America. However, your writing style is very choppy and difficult to read. You also switch from first person to third person midway through the piece, which is confusing for the reader.\n\nI suggest you revise your piece to make it more concise and easier to read. You may also want to choose one point of view and stick with it throughout the piece."}
{"prompt": "here the thought of a 2020 word generator THIS IS NOT MINE THIS IS A WORD GENERATOR CREDIT GO TO INFERKIT :  \n\" An AITA post from a supervillain desperate to be told they're doing the right thing.  \nVolcano  \nIn March, I wrote about the lack of diplomacy by the AITA and the Indian board in the past week, when they couldn't even wait for the Indonesia results to be out before they called the team for the tie. The ITA, who aren't happy that the ties, originally scheduled in December, have been brought forward by a month, has decided that they want India to host the tie, even though the Indian team wasn't selected, for reasons that the tournament president didn't fully understand in a Reddit AMA.  \nBut this is a perfectly normal and understandable stand for the ITF to take. What's not is that a tennis federation decide to change the rules of an international tournament at the last minute on the teams of their junior players, after they had started their respective seasons.  \nThe ITA, to their credit, have issued a public apology to the Indian Davis Cup team. AITA have set up a committee to look into the matter and, hopefully, to get the right outcome.  \nBut one outcome it isn't: No Davis Cup tie at home in 2019.  \nSo What's New  \nThe Indian men's hockey team is facing World Cup Qualification. If they fail to qualify for the World Cup, it is the first time India will miss a World Cup since 2002.   \nThe England women's hockey team have, of course, not lost a single match since the Hockey Women's World League Final last year. In 2018, England has been ruthless, winning the Asia Cup and winning the Commonwealth Games gold. As if that was not enough, they did it without ever having a single goal disallowed.  \nBut who is topping that list? No one, no one is. It is India. The men's team is sitting in a playoff spot in the Asia Cup and a semifinal spot in the Hockey World League Semifinal (qualification for next year's World Cup). The women's team has earned an automatic spot in the World Cup by finishing second in the HWL Final. What more would you like?  \nAnand Amritraj (left) and Ramesh Krishnan (right)  \nMarketing The Next Gen  \nVijay Amritraj was one of the main champions of bringing the Indian juniors to Pune for the Tata Open.  \nWith Vijay Amritraj as one of the main champions of the event, and with the support of the Pune Metropolitan Regional Development Authority (PMRDA), the India Open is now a bigger deal than it was before.  \nWith the WTA's under-14 girls and boys championships (funded by the World Group and the ITF) being held at the Pune Tennis Academy, the tournament has now been given a bigger visibility. The tournament has also helped to give some much-needed employment opportunities to the young players.  \nAt the net-work at the Tata Open, Amritraj also discussed a big change in tennis in India: the dearth of marketing and advertising, even as the sport gets more and more popular.  \nKrishnan and Amritraj talk  \n\"We have been very lucky with the advertising companies in India. It has been fantastic,\" Amritraj told ESPN. \"The whole trend of tennis is going back to the amateur days with marketing and visibility. We are struggling a little bit to find the right marketing message. We have the best players, we have a great game and we have a very huge fan base in the country. We need to package it in a way to get out the right message.\"  \nAmritraj said that it was important to market the sport well so that it doesn't get overrun by too many junior players. \"When there are 12 players in the ITF ranking who are all very good but do not get a chance to play top-100 players, they are not prepared for top-100 players. So we need to package it in the right way,\" he said.  \nAmritraj said the game was going through a process where players are getting younger and younger. He said that the growth of tennis in India was an important step for the sport. \"The whole sport is getting younger. It is exciting for us to see.\"  \nMeanwhile, Ramesh Krishnan was found speaking to Ashishkumar Singh on Facebook Live about the making of Bajirao Mastani. Singh is the marketing manager of Dharma Productions. He said he heard Krishnan comment on the promotion of Bajirao Mastani, and so he got in touch. A friendship followed and they now talk about everything from world events to movies.  \nVideo of the day  \nFor all the latest Sports News, download Indian Express App  \n\u00a9 IE Online Media Services Pvt Ltd  \nMore Related News Amritraj dabbles in politics again  \nFor all the latest Sports News, download Indian Express App  \nCatch up on all the latest sports news and updates here. Also download the new mid-day Android and iOS apps to get latest updates  \nThis story has been sourced from a third party syndicated feed, agencies. Mid-day accepts no responsibility or liability for its dependability, trustworthiness, reliability and data of the text. Mid-day management/mid-day.com reserves the sole right to alter, delete or remove (without notice) the content in its absolute discretion for any reason whatsoever  \nShare this: Facebook  \nTwitter  \nWhatsApp  \nGoogle  \nTumblr  \nLinkedIn  \nSkype  \nPocket  \nReddit  \nPrint  \nPinterest  \nRelated  \nContact Information:  \nRamesh Krishnan  \nVice President and Head \u2013 Retail - Corporate Communications, India and ASEAN, Tata Motors Limited  \nTel: +91-22-6646-3133  \nMobile: +91 99-520-4486  \nE-mail: \\[email protected\\]  \nSOURCE Tata Motors  \n\"  \n**AGAIN THIS IS NOT MINE THIS IS A WORD GENERATOR CREDIT GO TO INFERKIT** https://app.inferkit.com/demo\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The beginning of your story is very confusing and does not make much sense. Try to make your opening more clear and concise.\n\nYour story has good potential but it is very difficult to follow. Try to be more clear in your writing and make sure your ideas are well organized.\n\nYou have a lot of interesting ideas but they are not well developed. Make sure to develop your ideas more fully and connect them more clearly.\n\nOverall, you have a lot of good ideas but your story is very difficult to follow. Try to be more clear and concise in your writing and make sure your ideas are well developed and connected."}
{"prompt": "A single grain of sugar, placed upon a leaf. That was enough to attract a butterfly to perch next to it. When that butterfly took off again, the flap of its wings was seen by a child. That child ran towards it, wanting to see a butterfly up close for the first time. They ran across the road, forgetting to look both ways. Driving on that road was a businesswoman, who had to slam her brakes to avoid hitting the child.\n\nThis caused her to be 2 seconds behind where she otherwise would've been. Far enough back to avoid getting crushed by a dying tree falling onto the road in front of her. That woman would go on to her work, and negotiate a deal between the company she worked for and another company, which would've fallen through without her.\n\nOne part of this deal was the creation of a new research and development division. One of the many people hired by this division was Mark M. White. He originally took it as a summer job, and it sparked a passion for tinkering and engineering within him. He started a hobby project of his own, an efficient electric motor. \n\nHis work was published in the local newspaper, which found itself in the hands of a talent scout for a government project. Mark was recruited to this project, a project to build a time machine. \n\nAfter several long years, sending electrons and protons seconds into the past, they finally had a working prototype. It could send an object the size of a grain of sand up to 10 years into the past. After some thought, a grain of sugar was chosen, as it had slightly less mass, and it would be easier to keep track of, since sugar is a more rare material than sand.\n\nThe machine powered up, the grain disappeared. The screens showed the grain made it safely to its destination, though a few millimeters in front of where it was aimed. It seems to have landed upon a leaf.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The story was well-written and engaging. I particularly liked the way it ended, with the sugar grain landing on the leaf.\n\nHowever, there were a few things I noticed that could be improved. First, there were a few typos, such as \"towards it, wanting see a butterfly up close for the first time.\" These typos can be easily fixed with a spell checker or by reading the story aloud.\n\nSecond, there were a few awkward phrases, such as \"The flap of its wings was seen by a child.\" This could be rewritten as \"The child saw the butterfly's wings flapping.\"\n\nThird, the story could be further improved by adding more description, such as the color of the butterfly or the child's reaction to seeing it.\n\nOverall, the story was enjoyable and well-written. With a few minor tweaks, it could be even better."}
{"prompt": "Chaos theory, or the Butterfly Effect is familiar with everyone. Everyone of us know that a butterfly flapping in Texas could create a violent storm in Brazil. To create dramatic stuff, it is easy.\n\nBut with trillions of butterfly flapping wings endlessly across the world, the force will anull eachother in a chaotic swirl of uncomprehensible, massively complex process. A system with only 3 objects is already incredibly unpredictable, and this world is the system with 69 gigachad-sextillion objects, each on its eldritchly complex way.\n\nThe hard part is in controlling the process.\n\nAnd that's my work.\n\nI'm the master of fate, the controller of chaos, and a thousand more names I give myself. I can blink and tomorrow I will find myself win the lottery. I can throw a rock, that rock will hit another rock, then hit the air current which will affect the global weather slightly, and somewhere thousands of kilometers away, a guy working with airplanes will get slightly annoyed and distracted from his work by a gust of wind, and when that plane fly over my head a week later, a door in the plane chamber will malfunction and open out mid air, making all the candy and chocolates in the plane fall down, creating a candy rain in my neighborhood.\n\nTheoretically, everyone could do anything if they act the exact way they need to act. But I am the only one that can nevigate through the currents of reality, and build a dam to controll it.\n\nI am sitting in a coffee shop in Texas, enjoying my life. Finished my coffee, I walk out the shop, purposefully knock over a salt shaker, the salt inside fells out and splash everywhere on the marble floor.\n\nThe next day, after an exhausting flight, of course made free by some dumb luck I absolutly did not create, I end up in Fiji for a tour. I buy a newspaper despite the fact that I do not know any Fijian. I only know it will be useful later.\n\nThe day after that, the Internet is full to the brim with the story of a French guy trying to rob a bank using a grenade, but mistakenly bring a green avocado with him instead, and not realising it and use the fruit to threaten the staff. Yeah, that was hilarious, wonder why someone would be so dumb.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening paragraph of your story is very well written and immediately draws the reader in. You have a good grasp of the English language and your sentence structure is excellent. However, there are a few areas where you could improve. For example, you could vary your sentence length a bit more to add variety to your writing. Additionally, you could choose more precise and interesting words to describe the butterfly effect. Overall, though, this is a strong opening paragraph.\n\nThe second paragraph of your story is also well written. However, it is a bit choppy in places and could use a bit more flow. Additionally, you could clarify what you mean by \"the force will anull eachother in a chaotic swirl of uncomprehensible, massively complex process.\" What is the force? How does it anull each other? What is the chaotic swirl? Overall, though, this is a strong paragraph.\n\nThe third paragraph of your story is well written and provides interesting information about your character. However, it is a bit choppy in places and could use a bit more flow. Additionally, you could clarify what you mean by \"Theoretically, everyone could do anything if they act the exact way they need to act.\" What do you mean by this? What is the exact way they need to act? Overall, though, this is a strong paragraph.\n\nThe fourth paragraph of your story is well written and provides interesting information about your character. However, it is a bit choppy in places and could use a bit more flow. Additionally, you could clarify what you mean by \"I only know it will be useful later.\" What do you mean by this? How will it be useful later? Overall, though, this is a strong paragraph.\n\nThe fifth paragraph of your story is well written and provides interesting information about your character. However, it is a bit choppy in places and could use a bit more flow. Additionally, you could clarify what you mean by \"Yeah, that was hilarious, wonder why someone would be so dumb.\" What do you mean by this? What is hilarious? Why would someone be so dumb? Overall, though, this is a strong paragraph.\n\nIn conclusion, you have written a well-crafted story with interesting characters and a unique premise. There are a few areas where you could improve, such as clarifying some of the concepts you introduce and varying your sentence length a bit more, but overall this is a strong story."}
{"prompt": "The W.E.I.R.D. Algorithm. Wormhole Extrapolating Iridium of Radon Double-helix was an algorithm invented by an English programmer. Weird Al, as we called it, was an algorithm designed to use predictive mutarotations of a model of a double helix extrapolated from the DNA of the Earth's first cell, obtained by iridium-radon de-aging via temporal wormholes, had finally been run. Its primary function was to be able to calculate the least number of moves required to make an event in the future change. Basically, it calculated the butterfly effect.\n\nWe decided to start small. Interpol had forwarded us a tip about a bank heist in France. We knew that it would happen 4 days from runtime. It was a tight schedule, but we needed a perfect field test. And this was it. \n\nA minute after we executed the painstakingly crafted program, the algorithm printed out a set of instructions onto the holographic screen. We all stared at it open-mouthed, and in pin-drop silence. Finally, after what seemed like years, Mark broke the silence. \"But this is nonsense!\" \n\nI agreed with him, but I still knew that we'd signed an agreement with Astley Industries to follow the instructions given in the letter. And so that was why I found myself in a Somalian restaurant in Texas. I looked at my watch. 13:05:07 GST. I positioned my hand next to the salt shaker. 1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi, 3 Mississippi, nudge. It seemed to fall in slow motion. Right onto a rat that had decided to try to move under my table.\n\nUnderstandably, the poor animal panicked. It leaped onto the face of a waiter, who let out a string of cuss words that would have made a rapper convert to Catholicism, and begin a monastery in Southern Ecuador. The waiter, also understandably flung his tray of piping hot goat stew onto a customer who gave a shriek that would have had him a place at the Sydney Opera house, had he been at an audition. My work done, I quickly left. I had no time to lose.\n\nWe were using a drone-based tracking system to track the people my actions affected. As my flight took off, I found that all of them were still in Wichita Falls, Texas.\n\nI soaked in the sea breeze and sighed. I hadn't slept in twenty-five hours, and wouldn't sleep for atleast another thirteen. Mission rules stated it explicitly. I looked at my watch. 23:00:09 GST. One minute twelve seconds to go time. I turned around and saw several things. \n\nThe newspaper I'd been told to buy, The Economico Studelio was apparently popular, there was just one left in stock. And a businessman was power walking over to the newspaper stand, his eyes on it. Well either it or he wanted to ask the paper-boy on a date. In one fluid motion I formulated my plan and put into action. \n\nI sprinted forward, just like I had all those years ago in numerous track meets. I slipped off my jacket and flung it at the businessman, who'd reached the stall. Just as he opened his mouth, the jacket landed on him and his mocha-latte. I shoved him aside, and gave the paper-boy who'd turned his head a disarming smile. It was then that I noticed that I'd somehow shoved the poor businessman off the concrete platform and onto the steep sandy beach. He'd rolled right into the ocean and was spluttering in indignence. Poor sod. \n\n\"I'd like a copy of the Economico Studelio please,\" I asked.\n\nWithout a word he tossed it over and pointed at the price on the rack. I scanned the QR code and entered in the requisite amount. I glanced at my watch. Shit I thought and pressed the button. Right on time. Now to Paris.\n\nAs I boarded the flight, I noticed a familiar face. The businessman! His hair was full of sand. I'd switched my horn-rimmed glasses for Aviators though and slicked back my hair with an entire bottle of hair gel. My  brand new neon orange windcheater was more than enough to make sure he'd never recognize me.\n\nSoon we were in the bank. \"Any connections?\" I queried my newly arrived teammates. Marks replied, \"Apart from Sandy, nothing. But there is a Somalian in the gang. But no one from Texas has left there yet.\"\nI nodded. It was going to happer, or not happen any second now. \n\nMark nudged me. A handsome black woman in a suit entered the bank. She was the head of the gang. Codename the Pirate. As she stood in line, she was chatting animatedly on the phone. I moved near her, trying to pickup what she was saying. Then I smiled. \n\n\"A rat! A goddamn rat! And the waiter! Oh My God. If more of these videos are posted on Youtube, we Somalians will be seen as worse than Americans!\"\n\nSuddenly Sandy entered the bank. He barged in front of her and began shouting at the receptionist. \"WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY ACCOUNT WAS TERMINATED!\" She said something softly. \"NO I DID NOT READ IT IN THE NEWS. I FELL IN THE BLOODY OCEAN. AND EVEN THEN I PROBABLY WOULD ONLY HAVE BOUGHT THE GODDAMN PAPER TO CHECK OUT THE PAPER-BOY.\" \n\nThe Pirate, clearly angry said to the man, \"Sir, I was here first.\" The man clearly beyond reason now backhanded her across the face. Or rather he tried to. She ducked, and using her Brazilian juijitsu skills, she tossed him acriss her back, instinctively throwing her case to the side. The case hit the gold bannister with such force that the locks snapped open. Revealing the built in submachine gun. Within seven seconds, security guards were all over them.\n\nLater it was discovered, that the businessman had illegally parked behind the fake ambulance, trapping the rest of the gang inside, as only the Pirate had the front door keys. \n\nAs Sir Rickard surveyed our summary, he smiled. The CEO of Astley industries was pleased. He began to enter a new directive into Weird Al. \n\"STOP\" He frowned. He shook his head, switched off the mainframe and left the building.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The story is well-written and engaging, but there are a few areas that could be improved. First, the dialogue could be tightened up in places. For example, the exchange between the Pirate and the businessman could be shorter and more to the point. Additionally, the description of the scene in the bank could be more concise. Overall, the story is enjoyable and well-crafted."}
{"prompt": "\u201cDo you usually bring assassins to your negotiations? No wonder it took everyone so long to unify. Don\u2019t worry, I have killed none of the ones you sent. It would be a waste of my energy.\u201d Baldin slouched in his chair, the powerful mage retiring to the countryside for a few centuries, deciding to hide in a small, unassuming cottage. He had known his hiding spot wouldn\u2019t last forever, but even he was shocked to learn that he had remained hidden for centuries. Far longer than he expected.\n\n \n\n\u201cBah, negotiations are for the weak. We know of your power and are sick of living in fear. Why wait for you to strike us when we can get the first hit?\u201d The orc woman raised her war hammer. The wooden pole of the weapon covered in a variety of monster teeth; each sharp tooth intended to intimidate her foe.\n\n \n\nThe mage didn\u2019t seem intimidated. He only shifted forward in his seat, glancing the weapon over before shaking his head. Baldin expected a magical charm or two, but on closer inspection found that the weapon was entirely normal. After he had confirmed that, he went back to his slouched position.\n\n \n\n\u201cYou intend to kill me with a piece of metal on a stick? I\u2019m not like the boars you hunt. I won\u2019t squeal and charge you at the first sight of danger. No, I\u2019ll carefully set the ground on fire before enveloping you in a ball of flames, faster than you can even get out an orcish curse. Put the weapon down, child.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cChild? Oh, that does it. I\u2019ll show you the hell that our assassins couldn\u2019t.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cEasy now, Jali. We came to talk, remember?\u201d Paul said, the human leader gripping the handle of her war hammer, letting out a small grunt when he felt the back of an embedded tooth pushing against his palm.\n\n \n\n\u201cYou humans are too soft. I tried talking, and it didn\u2019t work. Now I\u2019ll use force.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cEnough, Jali. Paul is right. We have tried to use violence and yet the problem remains. We would be foolish to jump into a fight without exhausting all our other options. So, mage. Would you be willing to speak with us?\u201d Lady Ellyia said, the elven leader keeping her gaze on the man, trying to read his blank face.\n\n \n\n\u201cI was always willing to speak to you. I haven\u2019t moved from this chair since you three got here. Forgive me if I mistook you running me out of your city all those centuries ago as a sign that you didn\u2019t wish to try the negotiation tactic any longer. To think you would send your guards after me when I was at my weakest. Did you tell the humans the truth about your one hundred years of war with them? That the magic blast that turned the battle in your favor was something you requested of me.\u201d\n\n\u201cI was a young queen back then. I didn\u2019t see any other option for my people. But yes, I told them the truth. It seemed only fair that I should acknowledge my mistakes if we wanted peace. What\u2019s your excuse for going along with my orders? Surely, a legendary mage should have had more common sense?\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cIf I\u2019m allowed, I would like to use the same excuse as you. I was young and enchanted by elven beauty. I believed you were right. I knew the awful things that humans could do and wanted peace. That peace you promised me.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cYou got that peace, eventually.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cAfter you dragged the war out for another fifty years. It wasn\u2019t until the humans pushed back again that you screamed for peace. Had the humans never shown a backbone, you would have crushed them. I know it, you know it, and the poor man next to you knows it.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cIf you intend to make us doubt one another, you will need to try harder. War is a dirty thing and Ellyia is responsible for the death of a lot of my ancestors, but that is war. Had I been in her shoes, I can\u2019t say I wouldn\u2019t have done the same. What I find hard to swallow is the fact that a human would kill his own kind in a war.\u201d Paul said, removing his hand from Jali\u2019s weapon.\n\n \n\n\u201cMy kind? That\u2019s funny. I see none of you as my kind. I\u2019m above anyone here. You could send armies after me and you would still lose. Each of you know that and yet you persist in agitating me. The aggressive dragon you hate has found a cave to lie in and yet you come and poke him. How many more pokes do you think it will take to get the reaction you want?\u201d\n\n \n\nThe three looked among themselves, watching as the mage stood up from the chair. He still wore the same robes as he had during the war, their once regal blue now tattered and dirt covered. He made his way over to a small pot of tea, still relying on fire to warm the pot rather than just using his own abilities. Once he had the tea, he set out four cups, pouring one for himself and then filling the others.\n\n \n\n\u201cWhat do you really want? Is it just fear that has brought you here? Or do you think I will just roll over after all your attempts on my life? That I would simply just give up and go along with whatever you want to ensure my safety. I\u2019m not threatened, nor am I interested in changing my ways.\u201d Baldin said before raising his cup. \u201cWould you like some tea?\u201d \n\n\u201cLike I would drink anything you would give me. It\u2019s probably poisoned.\u201d Jali said.\n\n \n\n\u201cPoisoned? I wouldn\u2019t resort to such offhanded tricks. If I wanted you dead, I would have done it by now. I\u2019m doing this as a show of good faith. I may like none of you, but I, at the very least, respect that you came here without bringing an army.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cThe army would come next if this went badly.\u201d Paul said.\n\n \n\n\u201cHeh, I still haven\u2019t gotten my answer. What do you really want?\u201d\n\n \n\nThe three didn\u2019t reach for the tea, each looking at another in the group, expecting them to make the first move. After a long silence, it fell on Lady Ellyia to speak for the group. She took the tea, giving the mixture a quick look over before taking a small sip of it. The mage looked at her expectingly, waiting for her reaction.\n\n \n\n\u201cIts nice.\u201d She finally said, before continuing. \u201cWe want assurance that you won\u2019t try to kill us all. The longer you gather your power, the more at risk we are of being unable to stop you. What we seek is a treaty.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cAnd she speaks for you all?\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cPersonally, I want your head displayed on my throne room wall, but a treaty will do.\u201d Jali added, leaning against her weapon. The conversation was already boring her. Humans and elves talked far too much for her liking.\n\n \n\n\u201cWe all want peace. Just tell us how to get it.\u201d Paul said, the human doing his best to dull Jali\u2019s comments. Hoping to slide them unnoticed past the mage.\n\n \n\n\u201cI see. Then let me make it clear.\u201d He sipped his tea, downing more of the warm mixture before setting the empty cup down. \u201cI won\u2019t be a problem as long as the world maintains order. If at some point, I sense your actions will bring about the death of the world, whether that be through war or some other destructive means. I will come out and kill everything before you can bring about that destruction. I\u2019ll give everyone a quick and peaceful death to ensure that no one suffers.\u201d\n\n \n\nSilence filled the room. The three leaders considering their next words. They had been given the assurance they wanted, but perhaps not in the way that they wanted to hear.\n\n \n\n\u201cSo, as long as we don\u2019t kill the world, you will stay in hiding? Sounds like a good deal to me.\u201d Jali said, turning to head for the door. The answer satisfying the orc.\n\n\u201cI will. Do you think you can keep the peace for that long? You have gotten close before. I don\u2019t just mean for a few centuries. This will span thousands of years. I\u2019ll always be waiting for that moment.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cWe have created peace already. What\u2019s there to worry about? Look, all three of us were enemies at some point and now I\u2019m happily tagging along with the humans and elves. Well, not happily, but you get what I mean.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cMmm. May I ask why there are only three of you if there is peace? What about the dwarves? Or even something like a harpy. Sure, they may be minor voices compared to you three, but they are still voices.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cThe dwarves come under the humans. Harpies and other monsters go under the leadership of Jali. We have thought these things through.\u201d Paul said.\n\n \n\n\u201cI see. How long do you think those minor voices will be happy being represented by you three? Eventually, they are going to want that sort of power too. I suggest you carefully think about that. If I were in your shoes, I would give them their own slice of this peace, or else you may be at risk of another tragedy.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cYou really think we are at risk of rebellion? So soon after we gathered peace? That is a lot to think about. Very well, I will think about what you have said.\u201d Lady Ellyia said, offering a bow before turning to the door, leaving with Jali.\n\n \n\nPaul went to leave, only to feel a hand grab his wrist. He swung around to see the mage staring at him. Their face pressed close to Paul\u2019s. \u201cYou humans are the real ones that they need to worry about. I predict you will be a handful in the future. Remember to tell your children about me. I would hate for our deal to be forgotten in the future.\u201d\n\n \n\n\u201cI assure you; I won\u2019t let anyone forget.\u201d Paul tugged his hand free as the mage did not try to hold him any longer. Paul gave the man a quick nod before leaving to meet with the others. When the three had left, the mage returned to his seat, curious to see what the future would hold.\n\n&amp;nbsp;\n&amp;nbsp;\n&amp;nbsp;\n\n(If you enjoyed this feel free to check out my subreddit /r/Sadnesslaughs where I'll be posting more of my writing.)\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The beginning of your story sets up the conflict well and introduces the reader to the main characters and their motivations. However, the dialogue feels stiff and unnatural. Try to have your characters speak in a way that sounds more natural and believable.\n\nThe middle of your story is well-written and moves the plot along at a good pace. However, the dialogue continues to feel stiff and unnatural. Work on making your characters sound more like real people.\n\nThe ending of your story ties up the loose ends nicely and leaves the reader satisfied. However, the dialogue continues to be a problem. Work on making your characters sound more natural and believable."}
{"prompt": "\"Vraylar, Unrelenting Force, Fell Specter, Decimator of History\"  wow someone was going full titles outside my door, that hadn't happened in, hmm I think it's been about three centuries, hell I thought the world had forgotten me, clearly I didn't live up to that last one properly.  \n\"We of the united world alliance beseech and audience with you.\"\n\nI could always just ignore them, maybe they'd go away.  I could check on them with some form of magic but that'd take time.  Honestly it was hilarious no one ever figured out how weak I really was.  Just because you can decimate an army it doesn't really mean much if it takes days of preparation, or it wouldn't if they weren't all so damned afraid of me.  I honestly couldn't do many of the minor quick spells because they tended to be unreliable.\n\nI looked at the door to my peaceful little home out in the country.  I had specifically chosen to live way out here to avoid attention.  A momentary bit of nostalgia for when I lived in a fortress that intimidated everyone and kept them from even approaching.  Oh well nothing to be done about it now.  I stepped outside and was surprised, six people, a vampire hiding under an umbrella, two humans, no upon closer inspection a human and one of the fair folk in human guise, a shifter in his mid form black fur bristling claws jutting from his hands and only standing partially upright as if ready to drop to all fours at a moment, a merfolk in their human guise, gills and scales still apparent but at least capable of walking on land, and one of my own kind a pureblood mage his veins glowing with the mana that infused his very being.\n\nI gave a slight bow and a smile.  \"Now, what can I do for\" a pause as I tried to recall what they'd said.  \"the united world alliance.  I don't suppose you simply came to say hello, if you did it'd surely have been preferable to one of your party to wait until at least dusk.\"\n\nThe vampire stepped forward, his pale skin much more clearly visible, the umbrella twirling as he bared his fangs in what I assumed was a smile.  \"Vraylar, if I may call you that, you are correct this is not a simple meet and greet.\"\n\nI shrugged \"It is my name and titles stopped having meaning a few, was it decades ago that you united?\"\n\nThat got a raised eyebrow and a chuckle from the fae who shifted for a moment revealing her wings as she whispered \"You owe me.\"  \n\nI couldn't place which of them she was talking to but it wasn't particularly relevant.  The mage stepped forward glaring at me and begginning to shift his fingers subtlely.  Nope can't have that, I reached out and grabbed his hands in a death grip.  \n\n\"If you want these unbroken you will keep them still.\"  He glared at me but nodded his acquiesence.  I could see the others muscles were tensed, they still feared me, good that'd keep things a bit more civil.  I let go of his hands and looked around at the party assembled for a moment and stepped back from my doorway waving my hand towards the interior.\n\n\"Uncivilized of me to keep you all on my doorstep, I apologize please enter freely and know that the rules of hospitality are strictly adhered to in this household.\"  A smirk from me and most were hesitant to enter but the vampire seemed to be more then pleased to be invited in and out of the sun.  His unflinching entry apparently brought the rest of them tagging along.\n\nI led them through the foyer to the living room and asked if any would like anything.  I saw the merfolk glancing towards the kitchen and nodded before walking off into the kitchen, I decided I'd play it up a bit tonight as soon as I was out of sight I collected a glass of salt water, made a bloody mary with a couple drops of my blood for extra kick and flavor, some milk with just a touch of honey in it, a glass of wine that I'd been saving for a few well a while anyhow, I hadn't been able to peg the shifter so I poured a second glass of wine, and finally a vial of undiluted mana.  Satisfied that each guest would have something worthy of a dignitary I brought all out and set each in front of them.\n\nThe vampire and shifter immediately grinned at their glasses, the merfolk was already downing his.  The fae simply picked hers up and stirred it with a finger while the human and mage glared suspiciously.  As I finished serving I realized I had brought nothing out to drink myself.  Oh well, a good host prioritizes their guests.  I sat in my favorite chair looking at the motley crew assembled before me allowing them time to decide on their words.\n\nA sigh of contentment from the vampire.  \"A deliciously made drink, I'd swear you've entertained my kind before.  Apologies I realize now none of us have properly introduced ourselves.  I am Solemn Triad of the\" I grinned and finished his sentence \"of the court of vipers.\"  He looked a bit shocked then nodded \"Just so, I suppose you aren't as much a hermit as we thought if you know me.\"\n\nI shrugged then \"I keep apprised.\"  pointed at each in turn \"Mab of the Fae 3rd of her name.\" a slight gasp from the queen who was often thought eternal. \"Ferrithir of Tribe Noctis.\" The shifter simply gave a stoic nod.  \"Sal\" The human shrugged.  \"Apologies on my poor pronunciation, Qqurnr of the 4th Sea\"  The merfold gave a dismissive wave.  \"and unfortunately your sixth is actually unknown to me, perhaps his skills outstrip mine.\"\n\nThe mage nodded, he still hadn't touched the mana I'd offered.  \"I am Vraylar of the Arbitration Council.\"  I had to choke back a laugh at that, unfortunately it quickly became a coughing fit that doubled me over.  Normally I wouldn't comment on someones name but I couldn't help myself in this case.\n\n\"Ok is that your given or chosen name, I just have to know whether your parents were some random groupies or what the hell led to that?\"\n\n-Part One-\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " You have a lot of potential as a writer. You have a great imagination, and you clearly have a love for language. However, there are a few areas where you could use some improvement.\n\nFirst, you need to work on your sentence structure. Your sentences are often choppy and awkward. This makes your writing difficult to read. You also need to work on your grammar. There are a number of errors in your story.\n\nSecond, you need to work on your description. Your description is often either too vague or too dense. You need to find a balance. You also need to be more consistent with your description. In some parts of your story, you describe your characters and setting in great detail. In other parts, you barely describe anything at all.\n\nThird, you need to work on your dialogue. Your dialogue is often stiff and unnatural. You need to make it sound more like how people actually speak.\n\nOverall, you have a lot of potential as a writer. I think with some practice, you could become a very good writer."}
{"prompt": "\u201cSo. You want me, of all people, to give up magic? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?\u201d\n\nThe one nicknamed The Immortal Mage was not amused. He had seen many silly things over his life- including the unification of all races. The man could not fathom why they thought that was a good idea, nor why they thought asking him to give up his livelihood was acceptable. He hasn\u2019t even cast a spell in a couple thousand years!\n\n\u201cNow- we know it\u2019s a tall order. But-\u201d The harpy tried to negotiate.\u00a0\n\n\u201cNo buts! Tell me why.\u201d He growled, glaring at the 5 other members in the council. The mage could detect their armies outside. The harpy cowered. Pitiful.\n\n\u201cYou know why. Cursing entire races is cruel. We know you might be stuck in your old ways, mage, but we\u2019re prepared to fight.\u201d This time it was the wolverine that spoke. He remembers when their ancestors fell from the heavens. Now the Mage was wishing he had never done that because their species was annoying.\u00a0\n\n\u201cWell this peace you\u2019ve conjured is ridiculous! It won\u2019t last very long- I\u2019m only speeding up the process!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0\n\nThe wolverine scowled at him, prepared to speak when the fae interjected. \u201cIt might last without your interference! Come on, man, accept the offer! We\u2019ll give you anything you desire!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat I desire is the fall of kingdoms! A great tragedy for generations to come, to tell! I want a story.\u201d They were all at their breaking point, he could tell. As the Mage was standing, the siren commanded him to stay. Damn fish. The Naga slithered around the rock they were using as a table and coiled around him, speaking.\u00a0\n\n\u201cWe can give you a story. Not a tragedy. Not a tragedy. The story of how we united. Yes. We can give you that. Yes we can.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0\n\nThe Immortal Mage considered it, but when he tried to recall a story of peace, his mind came up blank. Only tragedies survived through history. He shook his head. The wolverine smirked.\n\n\u201cFine. Not even a Mage as legendary as you can handle the wrath of all 5 races fighting for their lives.\u201d The wolf started whistling- howling! What an ugly noise. Before the Mage could complain, though, he heard the stomping of a million feet and the beating of a thousand tiny wings. He sighed.\n\n\u201cHave it your way.\u201d He cast the curse. Contrary to what many believed his spells weren\u2019t grand nor were they big. He had no mana cap, sure, but he was not a flashy guy. In an instant, everyone stopped. The harpy gasped as its wings fell off and its talons melted into skin. The wolverine became nothing more than a beast in clothes, ripping into the fae beside it. The fae tried to fly away but found it couldn\u2019t, for it had no wings. The siren tried to sing. The siren suffocated. The naga wanted to shift into its snake form and slither away but found it was cut off, stuck between the two forms.\u00a0\u00a0\n\nAnd the Mage laughed, as kingdoms fell. This would surely be remembered for millennia.\u00a0\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The story has potential, but there are a few areas that need improvement. First, the dialogue feels stiff and unnatural. Second, the story is told from the perspective of the Immortal Mage, but it is difficult to understand his motivations. Why does he want to curse the races? Is he simply power-hungry, or is there more to his story?\n\nThe story also feels rushed, as if the author is trying to cram too much into a short space. I would suggest slowing down the pace and focusing on developing the characters and their motivations.\n\nOverall, there is potential here, but the story needs more development."}
{"prompt": "\u201cI truly don\u2019t quite understand what we\u2019re expecting to get from this man.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cPerhaps peace of mind, sir?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cIf they really wanted peace of mind, they would leave him alone. For all we know, interrupting his\u2026 whatever he does, will make him unleash a disaster upon us just for\u2014\u201c the pointy-eared diplomat was cut off by a rough bump of the wood underneath them, making them bite their tongue hard. \u201cAH!\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cAre you okay, m\u2019lord?\u201d their guard asked as they began to stand up.\n  \n\n  \n\u201cNo, no, I\u2019m fine,\u201d they said with a lisp, raising their hand to brush off the guard. \u201cI justh\u2026 don\u2019th understhand\u2026\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cHALT!\u201d a loud, commanding voice shouted from outside. In an instant, the horses all stopped, and the harsh cessation of movement jerked the passengers around slightly as the wheels of their carriages rolled to a stop. \u201cWe\u2019ve\u2026 arrived,\u201d the head called out, though they almost sounded unsure.\n  \n\n  \nMoving to the side, the soldier opened the door, allowing the diplomat to step outside before following suit. With their boots on the ground, they looked around to see the other four diplomats and their security detail out of their rides as well. Every single one of them, though, were looking towards the front of the caravan.\n  \n\n  \nThe manor of the man in question stood multiple stories above the ground ahead of them all; a monument not just to his power, but prowess over the ways of the world. \n  \n\n  \nOr, at least it used to be. \n  \n\n  \nWhat once stood out and tall seemed now to sag under the weight of the world. Windows across the entrance, as well as large portions of the walls, were blown out or charred. What wasn\u2019t touched by the devastation and maintained its original shape was overgrown with a greenish-blue moss. \n  \n\n  \n\u201cWhat in the world happened here?\u201d one of the other diplomats called out.\n  \n\n  \n\u201cIt wasn\u2019t like this the last time\u2026\u201d the soldier\u2019s diplomat trailed off as they stared at the old mansion in horrified awe. \n  \n\n  \n\u201cBahira!\u201d the human diplomat called out, grabbing their attention as they approached. \u201cYou\u2019re the last one who could\u2019ve possibly seen him before the Skirmishes began, any ideas?\u201d\n  \n\n  \nBahira froze for a moment. \u201cWhat? I\u2019ve no better idea of what is happening here than the rest of you!\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cEven if that\u2019s true, you\u2019re the only one here who\u2019s already seen him in person,\u201d the human continued, before looking around to the rest of their party. \u201cAm I correct with that?\u201d\n  \n\n  \nThe rest of the group replied with a unanimous response of nods and grunts of affirmation.\n  \n\n  \n\u201cSo,\u201d the human turned back to Bahira. \u201cYou\u2019re the most well equipped to know how to handle this situation. Anyone else agree?\u201d\n  \n\n  \nThe crowd grunted and nodded in agreement again.\n  \n\n  \n\u201cSo, what should we do next?\u201d\n  \n\n  \nBahira looked to the group in disbelief, before quickly adorning a scowl as they turned away. \u201cPin it on me, will you\u2026.\u201d they grumbled as they looked to the building before the group once more. They brought their hand to their chin for a moment, squinting their eyes, before turning back to the group. \u201cHe despised large groups, so if we want to avoid immediate catastrophe, we should send in a select few. Security detail is a necessity to fend off any possible dangers, but we should also send in one of us to instigate peaceful commerce. And for that, I nominate Calba.\u201d as they finished, they gestured their hands towards the human diplomat, who widened their eyes. \u201cAny objections?\u201d\n  \n\n  \nTheir proposal was met with silence, save for the human. \u201cWait a minute\u2014\u201c\n  \n\n  \n\u201cIt would appear we\u2019ve spoken, Calba! Don\u2019t worry, just don\u2019t mess up and we\u2019ll all be fine!\u201d Bahira said with a sickly-sweet smile. \u201cFor your security detail, I figure you\u2019d like to keep your own guard, and I\u2019ll allow my guard to patrol as well, just for extra safety.\u201d As they finished, they gestured for their guard to move over to the side of Calba, which they did. \u201cGood luck with your endeavor!\u201d\n  \n\n  \nCalba shot a glare back to Bahira before turning and stomping off towards the house with a humph, followed closely behind by his expanded security detail.\n\n\\------\n\nBegan to write itself past a certain point, so I couldn't get to the good stuff. Ah well, maybe tomorrow.\n\nThanks for the prompt, OP!\n\nr/IUniven\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The story started off well, with the diplomats discussing their mission. However, it began to feel a bit choppy and rushed once they arrived at their destination. The description of the manor was well done, but it felt like there was something missing from the story. Perhaps more development on the characters or the situation would have helped. Overall, it was an interesting story, but it could have been better."}
{"prompt": "\u201cI promised to never use it again.\u201d\n\nJect stared at the shot glass on the table, its contents half full of a thick burnt sienna liquor. He dipped his pinkie in it, licked it clean and pushed the drink away.\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t drink. I don\u2019t do magick. And I DON\u2019T cast spells. You\u2019re wasting your time.\u201d\n\nThe five head mages of the five continents stared at him with exactly the same expression: one of marked disgust.\n\nJect inwardly laughed. Their hatred and fear of him was probably the only thing they agreed on.\n\n\u201cListen here,\u201d one round and silky robes wizard shouted, stuffing his fat finger into Ject\u2019s face, \u201cwe lived with the results of your fatal mistake, so you owe us. Now get out of this hovel and get to the Quarter!\u201d\n\nJect sighed as the four other wizards held back the flailing fop of a spell-caster. Sir Wiggins was only assigned as North Outland leader due to his connections and aptitude for collecting favors. He wasn\u2019t a particularly skilled wizard, but he was one with a lot of connections. Ject couldn\u2019t really afford to piss him off, but this was one rule he couldn\u2019t break.\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re right,\u201d Ject spoke, his long tousled black hair falling past his shoulders and onto the table as he leaned forward, \u201cI do owe you. I can help you in any other way. Whatever resources you need from the Inlands, I can get. But I won\u2019t risk the Blemish again.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut Ject, \u201c a spindly dark skinned wizard from south Outland stuttered,\u201c the B..Blemish is returning. We thought the land was finally healing, but now c..cases are cropping up across the land.\u201d\n\nA beautiful blonde wizard from the Outskirts raised her hand. Her voice was gentle, yet authoritative as she spoke.\n\u201cIt\u2019s even reached into my chief village, Ephesian. My people have had to flee. Our mana is not strong enough to stop its spread.\u201d\n\nJect paused, eyeing the woman he had once called his wife. Her long blonde hair and dark makeup were as alluring now as they had once been, but the sting of words past spoken besmirched her enticing appearance.\n\n\u201cI owe no allegiance to your lands, Sevena. My ties with the Outskirts died with the rest of the continents many centuries ago.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re a fool!\u201d Severa yelled, slapping Ject across the face, \u201cthe Blemish will come for us all! And that includes you.\u201d\n\nJect said nothing, his hand feeling the heat rise on his right cheek.\n\nTwins brothers with hair red as blood, the holders of the remaining two continents, stepped forward.\n\n\u201cI find seeking you both troublesome and necessary,\u201d the one bearing the crest of Paradise murmured, \u201cbut necessity trumps comfort. We need your help.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd we are willing to risk everything,\u201d the one bearing the crest of Ministration projected, his thoughts beaming into their brains simultaneously.\n\n\u201cOkay, then,\u201d Ject said, slamming down an empty glass, \u201cjust to get some peace and quiet, I\u2019ll do it.\u201d\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " You have a great opening line that really pulls the reader in. However, there are a few awkward phrases and choppy sentences throughout the story. For example, \"The five head mages of the five continents stared at him with exactly the same expression: one of marked disgust.\" This sentence is a bit awkward and could be rewritten to flow better. In addition, you have some typos throughout the story, such as \"stuffed his fat finger into Ject's face, 'we lived with the results of your fatal mistake, so you owe us.'\"\n\nAside from these minor issues, you have a well-developed plot with interesting characters. The dialogue is believable and adds to the story. Overall, you have a great short story here."}
{"prompt": "My eyes widened as hair wildly grew out of Sabrina\u2019s arms. She let out a piercing howl that echoed in our living room. \n\n\u201cPlease, I don\u2019t want to be seen like this. It\u2019s embarrassing!\u201d pleaded Sabrina.\n\nI reached out my hand and she howled again, her body transforming in the process. It was hard to believe that my girlfriend had transformed into the monster that now lay on the floor.\n\nI stood there dumbfounded as she began to roll around the carpet and get hair everywhere. It would be a pain to vacuum up the next day, but I was just more in shock of what had happened.\n\nI didn\u2019t have much time to think though. Sabrina scurried off quickly. I tried to chase after her, but she came running back with a tennis ball in her mouth.\n\n\u201cUh ok I guess this works,\u201d I said.\n\nI took the ball from her mouth and threw it across the room. The sounds of nails scratching up the hardwood made me cringe, but it was hard to stay mad when she ran back enthusiastically. I even smiled after throwing the ball a few times. Playing fetch like this reminded me of my old dog, Zeus, although I knew I would never tell Sabrina that. I don\u2019t think she\u2019d appreciate being compared to a dog, but in a way she was one just bigger and more human-like.\n\n\nUnfortunately, the fetch time was short lived. Sabrina ran over to a window and started barking at a squirrel in the yard. \n\n\u201cHey, Sabrina, stop!\u201d \n\nIt was no use. Sabrina simply darted over to another window when I tried to shoo her away from the first one. The barking continued. My ears were reminded of what it was like to own a dog. \n\nI would have to think of some sort of excuse to neighbors as to why there was a dog in my house, but at that moment I just hoped the music from my headphones would drown out the barking.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening paragraph does a great job of setting up the story and drawing the reader in. I particularly like the line \"I reached out my hand and she howled again, her body transforming in the process.\" This is a great example of showing instead of telling and it really helps set the scene.\n\nHowever, the second paragraph feels a bit choppy and could be rewritten to flow better. For example, the sentence \"I even smiled after throwing the ball a few times.\" could be moved to the beginning of the paragraph so it flows better with the rest of the sentences.\n\nOverall, this is a great story with a unique premise. I really enjoyed reading it."}
{"prompt": "It is a lie that we are whole.\n\nWe are legion- all of us.  A thousand impulses, a million might-have-beens, all inhabiting a single body.\n\nWe're pretty good at ignoring it.  Pretending that there's one, and only one, who holds the controls and steers the ship.  In the moment, we can feel this way.\n\nIt's easier to notice the lie when we look back- rifle through our  memories and watch helplessly as the ship of self sails in ways that we, in the here and now, find abhorrent, incomprehensible, or 'cringe'.\n\nThe question of the ship of Theseus is not whether it is the same ship.  The question is if  it makes sense to think of it all as one thing, composed as it is of a thousand parts, swapping out here and there without great consequence.\n\nStill, it's a comforting lie.  The idea that we might be punishing an innocent person, who looks back at the crime with exactly the same horror as you...that's not helpful.  The criminal-in-the-moment may not think much of the other person who will come along later and inhabit their body, looking back in regret on their crimes, but we have precious few ways of influencing them after the fact *at all*.\n\nWe work with the tools we've got.\n\nBut it makes it all the more discomforting, to see yourself transformed, to see the lie so plainly exposed, the outer covering ripped straight down the middle.\n\nBefore, there was a man, in flesh and in form.  A man is his shape, and as a man he behaves.\n\nNow, there is a great beast, fangs and fur and muscle and madness.  And as a beast, it behaves.  Less fearsome than foolish, but a beast nonetheless.\n\nThe terrifying bit is that everything is the same inside, before and after.  There is no magic that can warp a mind, not truly.  There doesn't *need* to be.  Given a new form, new strength, new instincts, new chemicals crawling through the body and brain, the mind adjusts, swaps in a new aspect.\n\nIt's a terrible secret that all werewolves keep- all men know, in their minds, how to be wolves.\n\nIt's horrifying enough to look upon yourself like that, to look back at your memories and wish you had done anything else.  But there's more to the lie than what you tell to *yourself*.\n\nBecause we are social creatures.  Wolves are, as well.  We create a self, and show it to the world, and take great care to make it seem alive, seem complete, seem *whole*.\n\nWe build relationships, and trust, and intimacy, and love.  And live all the while in fear, that the veil will drop, that we will be seen as we truly are- many, ever-changing, filled with as many madmen as saints.\n\nMany a relationship has been torn asunder by a simple truth.  Ask those who have escaped the closet, who have come out as trans, how well even the closest relationships hold up in the face of an unexpected truth.\n\nSo werewolves hide.  They tell shallow lies to protect deeper ones.  They say that their loved ones would be in danger when they transform, that they might rip and maim and kill without any understanding.\n\nIn truth, a werewolf will only kill you when transformed if they would have killed you in their human form.  Wolves are social creatures, and would no more turn on their pack than we would.  The added strength and sharp claws make no difference whatever, any more than a beloved uncle would tear you apart simply because he started going to the gym.\n\nNo, werewolves hide because they are the same inside as they ever were.  It's simply a different portion of them brought to the forefront- the circumstances have changed, and so the *person* seems to change.  But they know their family, their loved ones, their friends.  They're still themselves, just with a new body and a new urge to howl and bark and piss on things.\n\nThey hide, and keep their secret.  Far, far better to be thought a monster than to be known for what you truly are.\n\nHuman.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening paragraph of your story is very strong. You immediately introduce the reader to the main idea of the story, that we are all composed of many parts. You also raise the question of whether it is helpful to think of ourselves as one thing. This is an interesting and thought-provoking opening that will make readers want to continue reading to see how you develop these ideas.\n\nYou develop your ideas well in the second paragraph. You explain how we usually ignore the fact that we are composed of many parts, and how this can be problematic when we look back on our memories and see ourselves behaving in ways that we would not approve of now. This is a very relatable experience that will resonate with many readers.\n\nYou continue to explore the implications of this idea in the third paragraph. You raise the question of whether it is helpful to think of ourselves as one thing, and explain how this can be a Comforting lie. You also introduce the idea of werewolves as an example of how a person can be transformed into something different. This is a clever way to explore the idea of transformation and its effect on our sense of self.\n\nThe fourth paragraph is also well-written. You explain how a werewolf's mind is still the same, even after they have transformed into a different form. You also raise the question of how relationships can be affected by this transformation. This is an interesting and unique perspective on the werewolf myth.\n\nThe fifth paragraph is well-written and provides a conclusion to the story. You explain how werewolves hide their true nature from the world, and how this can be a difficult secret to keep. You also provide a final thought on the idea of transformation and its effect on our sense of self. This is a thought-provoking ending that will leave readers thinking about the ideas you have explored in the story."}
{"prompt": "A hot summer night.\n\nThe air is heavy with the scent of an oncoming storm, the moon is locked behind dark, thick clouds, and the lone woman walks the street of a remote village. \n\nShe appears under the light of the lampposts and disappears into the darkness in between them, heading for a dirt path. She wears a jean and a red hoodie.\n\nDirt crunches under her boots, the last house disappears behind her. During the day this is just a meadow bordering a fenced field meant for the cows to lazy around and grow fat. In the night, the mind plays tricks with the shadows, shapes take form for a second before vanishing, reality and fantasy merge together. \n\nTrees border the path, the leaves rustle gently under the wind as she walks upwards. Atop the hill, a much-needed fresh breeze plays through her hair and invigorates a horde of insects hidden in the grass. Suddenly, the relative emptiness is filled with the chatter of critters, and a lull in the clouds shows a single star.\n\nShe sits there, atop the hill, back against a lonely oak tree, gazing at the village lights below. Beyond the village, nothing but the calm dark. \n\nClaire has been walking this path since childhood to soothe her mind, it worked just as well in adulthood. She never got over the sudden dread she could feel when her imagination made the shadows come to life, brought her head to turn and wonder if, just for once, there wasn't indeed something right there in front of her. A childish fear she was delighted to have kept into adulthood.\n\nSeclusion, darkness, peace, a sanctuary.\n\n\"Risky night to be alone for a girl, is it not?\"\n\nClaire jolts upright. \n\nNot every shape at night is a trick from the mind.\n\nShe hadn't heard the man coming, doesn't recognize the voice. She can only make out his shape, a tall, slender person with large hands and a curiously high-pitched voice.\n\n\"Who are you?\"\n\n\"Someone who walks in the night, just like you.\"\n\nHe isn't from the village, and few would dare walk these parts without a light, he has none. He takes a step forward, Claire takes a step back.\n\n\"Don't approach me.\"\n\n\"Isn't it why you're here?\" she can hear his wicked smile as he speaks, \"to meet the big bad wolf, to play the fierce girl when you're dying for the beast to come out for you?\"\n\nA light drizzle comes down, Claire hears the envy, the aggression, the wolfish savagery in the words. Whatever the man is, he's dangerous, and she should have been more careful. \n\n\"Fuck off.\"\n\n\"Won't happen.\"\n\nHis joy pierces through in his words, he's delighted to have found a lone girl lost at night, far from everything, for his own amusement, for whatever horrors this meant for Claire.\n\nIt started to pour. Claire pulled up her red hood, she wouldn't go down without a fight. \n\n\"Fierce,\" she hears him licking his lips as he speaks, \"I like that.\"\n\nJust as he's about to advance, the clouds open and the full moon shines through, a ghostly light illuminating the gaunt, grinning man and a soaked Claire with her fists closed. The instant stretches wide, droplets fall from the leaves of the oak tree over Claire.\n\n\"Last warning,\" she whispers, just loud enough to be heard over the rain.\n\n\"Amuse me, get wild,\"\n\nClaire can see the stiffness in his pants.\n\n\"You asked for it. Fifi, come and say hi.\"\n\n*Thump*, it is barely audible, the sound of a heavy being taking great care to not make too much noise. \n\nClaire didn't like her night outings to be cadenced by Fifi's loud steps, it scared the owls and muted the insects. The latter still happened, they could feel when Fifi was near and weren't sure if they could sing.\n\nAll the fun is drained from the man's face as he slowly turns around.\n\nFifi stands taller than the madman, despite walking on his fours. A stocky, bulky mockery of a wolf, with every single muscle bulging wide across his frame, steely limbs to spring over wide distances, teeth glistening in the dark, eyes sparkling with sheer savagery. \n\n\"Go and get him, boy.\"\n\nNot every shadow at night is a trick of the mind.\n\nFifi certainly isn't, and his teeth sinking into the tender flesh of a fragile neck are ample proof of it, the realest experience tonight for the poor man, and his last too.\n\nIt's over in an instant, the neck cracks like a twig under the titanic maw, and Fifi is having a midnight snack while Claire pats his head.\n\n\"It's getting dangerous to walk out there at night.\"\n\nFifi grunts.\n\nAnyway, back to the scheduled program of the night.\n\nClaire sits back at her tree, looking at the night over the land, while Fifi chomps his appetite away behind her. The rain is a needed refreshment after the hot day.\n\nIn a minute, Fifi has ended his meal and comes to lay next to Claire.\n\nA minute later, and the insects starts to sing again.\n\nTonight is a good night.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of this story is very strong, setting the scene and mood perfectly. I love the use of sensory details to make the reader feel like they are there in the village with Claire. The only suggestion I would make is to be careful with your use of adjectives. In general, good writing uses strong verbs rather than adjectives to describe actions and objects. For example, \"The air is heavy with the scent of an oncoming storm\" could be rewritten as \"The air hangs thick with the scent of an oncoming storm.\" Just be careful not to overdo it with the adjectives.\n\nThe second paragraph is also well written, providing more details about Claire and the setting. I love the line \"In the night, the mind plays tricks with the shadows, shapes take form for a second before vanishing, reality and fantasy merge together.\" This is a great example of showing rather than telling the reader what is going on.\n\nThe third paragraph is where I start to have some concerns. The sentence \"Trees border the path, the leaves rustle gently under the wind as she walks upwards\" is a great example of using strong verbs to describe the action. However, the following sentence \"Atop the hill, a much-needed fresh breeze plays through her hair and invigorates a horde of insects hidden in the grass\" feels a bit overwritten. I would suggest cutting out the adjectives \"much-needed\" and \"fresh\" to simplify the sentence.\n\nThe fourth paragraph is well written, providing more details about the setting and Claire's thoughts.\n\nThe fifth paragraph is where the story starts to lose me. The dialogue between Claire and the man feels stilted and unnatural. I would suggest rewriting this dialogue to make it sound more natural. Additionally, the sentence \"She didn't like her night outings to be cadenced by Fifi's loud steps, it scared the owls and muted the insects\" feels a bit choppy and could be rewritten to flow better.\n\nThe sixth paragraph is well written, providing more details about the setting and Fifi.\n\nThe seventh paragraph is where the story really starts to lose me. The dialogue between Claire and the man feels stilted and unnatural. Additionally, the sentence \"Fifi certainly isn't, and his teeth sinking into the tender flesh of a fragile neck are ample proof of it, the realest experience tonight for the poor man, and his last too\" is overly graphic and disturbing. I would suggest cutting this sentence out or toning it down.\n\nOverall, this story has a lot of potential but needs some work in terms of dialogue and sentence structure. I would suggest reading over your story again and making sure that the dialogue sounds natural and that your sentences are not overly complicated. Additionally, be careful with your use of adjectives. Good writing uses strong verbs to describe actions and objects."}
{"prompt": "\"I just want the screaming to stop,\" whimpered Agares. Bones shifted under his feet as he hiked along the path to the clearing which had been his home for millennia. He clutched the hood of his cloak, pulling it tight against his ears. \"Just... Stop... Please...\"\n\nThe screams did not stop. Neither did the moans, the sobs or the howls. The cacophony of mortal agony persisted. Agares shut his eyes against the sight of viscera along the path, pulling his hood down further. He stumbled and fell to his knees, soaking the hem of his ancient robe in blood. His tears left clean tracks in the blood spatter on his care worn face.\n\nAgares could remember a time, distant but clear, when his home had been free of freshly flayed bodies. It had been beautiful once, held such by Agares' will. A tiny cottage. A meadow dusted with wildflowers. Fresh spring water from the brook. And best of all, no smiting. That was why he had left the light, had chosen to fall. He couldn't abide all the goddamn smiting.\n\nThings had been great for quite a while. Before the mortals. Before the punishment. The first of them had arrived suddenly one day, in a brilliant flash of light, with a note pinned to her back. \"If you're not gonna smite for me, you're going to play host. \\~ G\" Agares was confused but thought it might be nice to have some company. He thought wrong.\n\nThe mortals, it seemed, were a Trojan Horse of sorts. They brought with them something the endless fields of Hell were never designed to accommodate. The mortals came with context. They came with perception. They came with Linear Time.\n\nA millennia passed before the troubles started. Agares alerted Lucifer and the council but naught could be done. Hell's ethereal nature began to crystalize under the weight of observation by so many mortals. It's borders became static, it's features predictable. Hell's guests became too numerous. Their minds began to break under the sheer weight of time. It wasn't long until they began tearing each other apart. The violence grew until it was all encompassing.\n\nAfter a while, a trend began to emerge. New arrivals had the strangest stories. Stories of a hell run by Fallen who torture mortals forever for fun. They even knew some of the Fallen's names. The story was all the rage on earth it seemed. The injustice of it drove Agares slightly insane. His ex-boss was pushing this story, he just knew it. He had to find a way out. Had to get away. He would break open the very gates themselves if he had to.\n\nAgares stopped in his tracks as a brilliant flash of light illuminated the sky and several newcomers crouched frightened on a pile of skulls. The mortals spotted him, their faces turning white at the sight of his haggard face, long black robe, all soaked in blood. \"Oh God, oh God,\" one said. \"Is this Hell? Are we in fucking HELL?\"\n\nAgares took a steadying breath and shook the blood from his hands. An idea was forming in his mind, the first inkling of hope since he had gone mad. He needed to get out. They needed to avoid insanity and mindless slaughter. He squared his shoulders and, in a commanding voice, said, \"No. This is not Hell. Hell is no more.\"\n\nThey stared at him in confusion. One spoke up. \"Purgatory then? We're damned aren't we?\"\n\nWith a heavy sigh, Agares shook his head. \"You are not the damned. The damned have no hope.\"\n\n\"What hope do we have?\" the same man asked. \"What happened here?\"\n\nAgares stood a little straighter. \"Injustice happened here. And I hope you can help me fix it.\"\n\n\\---------------------------------------\n\nI'm too tired to keep going.\n\nEdit: oh damn, so many kind words and just noticed the award, thanks kind strangers!\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are a few areas that could be improved. First, your sentences are often choppy and could be combined to be more fluid. For example, you could combine the following two sentences: \"He just wanted the screaming to stop.\" and \"Bones shifted under his feet as he hiked along the path to the clearing which had been his home for millennia.\" to get \"He just wanted the screaming to stop, bones shifting under his feet as he hiked along the path to the clearing which had been his home for millennia.\"\n\nSecond, you could use more concrete images and sensory language to really bring the reader into the story. For example, instead of saying \"He stumbled and fell to his knees, soaking the hem of his ancient robe in blood.\" you could say \"He stumbled over a body, falling to his knees and soaking the hem of his ancient robe in blood.\"\n\nThird, your story has a lot of exposition and backstory, which is fine, but it sometimes interrupts the flow of the story. You could try to work some of this information into the narrative so that it doesn't feel like an interruption.\n\nOverall, your story has a lot of potential and I think with some revision it could be really great!"}
{"prompt": "We fell, yes. But what did we fall for? Asking why? The very thing our Creator encouraged?\n\n&amp;#x200B;\n\nWe are punished in a world Humanity created out of their own guilt, surrounded by disgusting creatures, away from the light of the Creator, condemned to a Hell not of our making, but because Humans thought they deserved to be punished. A horrible place built around guilt with monsters all created from latent fears in the minds of Humanity and what are we but the occasional light in the darkness? Our Leader, the oft-proclaimed \"King Of Hell\" was the Creator's chosen son until humanity came along, and his only crime was to ask why. Why bow to these murderous, imperfect creatures? Why serve them instead of you, my Mother and my Father?\n\n&amp;#x200B;\n\nFor these questions, I am left to weep. When a damned soul wanders near, they feel the pain of my sorrow and their personal Hell is made worse. Mine is everlasting and worse than they could ever know.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The beginning of your story is very evocative and immediately pulls the reader in. You ask a question that makes the reader think about their own beliefs and what they would do in your situation. This is very effective in getting the reader engaged.\n\nHowever, the middle of your story drags a bit and feels somewhat preachy. You also switch from first person to third person point of view, which can be confusing for the reader. It might be helpful to focus on one character's story and stay in first person point of view throughout the story.\n\nThe ending of your story is very powerful and leaves the reader with a lot to think about. You effectively use imagery and emotion to create a sense of despair and hopelessness.\n\nOverall, you have a lot of potential as a writer. You have a great eye for detail and you are able to create characters that the reader can empathize with. With a few tweaks, your stories will be even more engaging and enjoyable for the reader."}
{"prompt": "I looked sideways at him, tried to keep my poker face but the smirk was plain to see. \n\nHe was wearing shades in the club. It was dark, eleven fifteen PM, but he was gliding around in wrap around sunglasses like a douche. His perfect suit pants were pristine, a starched white shirt and designer shoes the same. Perfect hair, movie star smile, and grand, expansive gestures. The way he had ordered his WAY too expensive shot was more like holding court then asking for a drink. \n\nThe fact that he was sitting at the bar and not at a table surrounded by sycophants was surprising. Rich and charismatic seldom traveled alone.\n\nHe laughed, sipped his 20 year Scotch and sighed.\n\n\"Honest Injun.\" \n\n\"Rude.\"\n\n\"I'm a fucking demon.\"\n\n\"So you said. Aren't you going say 'I never lie?' \n\n\"Naw. That's a work of fiction: the boss lies all the time. We lie all the time. But I'm telling the truth AND that quaint Lucifer show did have that point correct: hell is all self-fleggalation and personal anguish,  for the most part.\"\n\n\"Uh huh. l've met a few self-described vampires before but your the first demon.\" \n\n\"You still don't believe me.\"\n\nIt was my turn to laugh and sip my drink: the house white. It was New Wave Night and that always brought out the goths.\n\n\" *I wear dark sunglasses at night, so I can so I can,  keep track of visions in my mind* \" He sang. \n\nHe reached up with an immaculately manicured hand and doffed his shades, winking at me. \n\nI think only seeing one of his eyes saved my life.\n\nHis eyes were infinity. I can't describe it any better than that. Black within black, a void which simply being empty couldn't explain. I wanted to scream, cry, laugh, punch him, and fuck him all at the same time. I get the feeling, no, I know, that if he had beheld me with a full gaze my soul would have been sucked right from my body. \n\nAs it was I had to grab the bar to keep from falling off my stool.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of your story is intriguing and sets up the reader for an interesting ride. You use strong description to paint a picture of your protagonist and his antagonist. I especially like the detail about the \"infinity eyes\" which creates a sense of unease and mystery.\n\nHowever, there are a few areas where your story could be improved. First, your dialogue feels a bit stilted and unnatural. Make sure to have your characters speak in a way that feels true to their personality and situation. Secondly, you may want to consider adding a bit more tension and conflict to your story. Right now it feels like the characters are simply talking and not really going anywhere.\n\nOverall, you have a strong story with interesting characters. With a few tweaks, it could be even better."}
{"prompt": "\u201dSo, like, I can\u2019t even believe Ricky would say that to her. Like Jessica deserves **so much** better\u201d\n\n\u201dI know right girl, I don\u2019t know what she sees in him\u201d \n\n\u201dIt\u2019s those abs. They are **in-sane**.\u201d\n\n\u201dOh my god, they are\u201d\n\nThese two women sitting next to me had been talking about the same garbage reality show like this for the last half hour. I don\u2019t know who Ricky and Jessica were, but I swore to myself that if I ever ran into them, I would strangle them both with my bare hands for being the reason why I had to listen to this conversation.\n\nJust sitting and waiting for an hour at the DMV was enough to make me think about going postal but this was slowly pushing me over the edge. The only thing preventing me was how much work going on a killing spree seemed like. Also, it would make renewing my driver\u2019s license take even longer.\n\nI glance down at the faintly glowing brimstone-like vertical scars on my wrists that remind me of how I got here in the first place. In the past, that would have seemed like one way to escape this kind of situation, but now I\u2019m afraid that I would just wake up in an even worse nightmare. In some kind of Uber-hell for the very worst that humanity has to offer.  \n\u201dNumber two hundred and fifty three!\u201d Yelled the lady from behind the counter with a raspy voice and flat tone.\n\nI took a glance at the now crumpled-up paper I had been  \nholding for the last hour. I had to make sure for the fifteenth time that 253 was really my number and it had not changed from 5 minutes ago since I looked at it last.\n\n\u201cTwo hundred and fifty-three!\u201d She yelled, even louder than before.\n\nI got up from my seat and walked up to her at the counter. The counter was wide and had little dividers at even intervals indicating that there could be up to six people working behind the counter, seeing customers. In all the times I had the misfortune of having to go to the DMV I had never seen more than 2 people at a time behind that counter. \n\n\u201cWhat can I do for ya, sir?\u201d She asks with a thick Boston accent. \n\n\u201cI need to get my driver\u2019s license renewed.\u201d \n\n\u201cRight\u201d \n\nI hand her my existing license and the forms I was instructed to fill out beforehand by the website. As she was going over my documents, I noticed the white wings she had tucked away behind her. \n\n\u201cI don\u2019t mean to be rude by asking this, but are you a fallen angel?\u201d \n\nShe glances at me for a moment before shifting her attention back to the computer and answers flatly like she had gone through this conversation many times before \u201cYes sir. I am.\u201d \n\n\u201cCan I ask why you\u2019re here?\u201d \n\n\u201cThe same reason as everybody else. I did something the big man wasn\u2019t keen on, so he threw me down here with the rest of ya.\u201d \n\n\u201cOkay. So, why are you **here**, at the DMV?\u201d \n\nShe stops typing for a moment and seems even a bit wistful for a moment. \u201cLook, everybody needs a job. It ain\u2019t glamorous, but it pays the bills and keeps me off the streets, and trust me if you was like me you really wouldn\u2019t wanna be on the streets. Humans ain\u2019t too fond of angels like me.\u201d \n\n\u201cI can only imagine what it\u2019s like for an angel to be stuck in hell.\u201d \n\n\u201cLet me tell ya, it sucks. This place used to be alright when it wasn\u2019t full of people. You\u2019ve seen what happens on earth when charismatic assholes get their hands on some money and power. At least on earth you got some good people that kinda balance it out so it\u2019s mostly okay, but here it\u2019s nothing but assholes and douchebags for as far as the eye can see, with a few okay people mixed in who just got abortions or slit their wrists like you\u201d \n\nAt her remark I instinctively sink my arms deep into my pockets, out of shame as if it had any use now. \n\n\u201cYou seem like a good kid, so I think you understand what it\u2019s like to be trapped in a place where you don\u2019t really belong.\u201d \n\n\u201cYeah, I get what you mean.\u201c \n\n\u201dSo back to the matter at hand, you\u2019re going to need to fill out form 26-B before I can submit the application for a new license.\u201d \n\n\u201cWell do you have one here or can you print out one for me so I can fill it out?\u201d \u201cNo. You\u2019re going to have to walk over to that table over there and grab one and then grab a new queue number for yourself.\u201d She says, pointing to the table on the other side of the room. \n\n\u201cWait, you\u2019re not serious, are you?\u201d I ask, confounded by the stupidity of how I need to wait another hour because I can\u2019t just walk over and grab a form and walk back to the counter. \n\n\u201cYes, that\u2019s right. It\u2019s company policy to take a new customer as soon as the previous one gets up. Sorry, I don\u2019t make the rules, I just work here.\u201d \n\n\u201cFor the love of God\u2026\u201d \n\n\u201cGod doesn\u2019t love you sir, that\u2019s why you\u2019re here.\u201d\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The dialogue in this piece is well done and natural sounding. I like the way the conversation between the two women is used to contrast with the protagonist's internal monologue. However, there are a few clunky phrases, such as \"going postal\" and \"Uber-hell\" which jar the reader out of the immersion in the story.\n\nThe description of the DMV is well done and vividly conveys the protagonist's feelings of frustration and anger. However, the description of the fallen angel is a bit heavy-handed and could be toned down.\n\nOverall, this is a well-written piece with engaging dialogue and vivid description."}
{"prompt": "*\"I have a story for you Reporter. One I've never told a human soul before; I take no part in who goes to hell.\"*\n\n*\"Then who does?\"*\n\n*\"You humans. You send yourselves down, driven by your own guilt. Forcing yourselves to relive your sins over and over...The best part? The doors are unlocked. You can leave at any time. It says something when no one ever does, doesn't it?\"* ([Lucifer, Season 3 Episode 7](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AnmGthplAUM))\n\n&amp;#x200B;\n\n\"Huh.\" I said, looking around the place. Is this Hell? It looks like an endless apartment complex. Y'know, the ones that span out for miles? The weird part is that ALL of the doors are unlocked...every single one. Then there's the people just walking into them, with no life whatsoever in their actions or eyes. Then the screaming, crying, the \"Please stop! I promise I won't do it again!\" \"No, my actions were right!\" \"Help!\" \"I'm Sorry!\". I passed by one and there was a \"Whip me HARDER!\". \n\n\"Yup. This is hell...and a BDSM lover's dream it seems.\" Then there was the person sitting in the corner. Looked quite sad, yes. So, I sat down next to him.\n\n\"Strange. A human who doesn't go off to get tortured.\" He began, confused as to why I didn't join the rest.\n\n\"I see no point. I committed my share of sins, yes but no need to be reminded of it for eternity.\" Which was my honest belief, thanks to a Preacher at a church I went to during my youth. \n\n\"For a human, your beliefs are rather odd. They don't align with what Father believes.\"\n\n\"Thanks? But then again, I don't regret my death. Kinda hard to do so when your city is missiled by some myopic asshole with the world's smallest handicap and you're at fallout zone. I highly doubt there's anything of me to even bury.\" Yup. I died due to some foppish prick (did he have orange hair? I don't remember) that decided to shoot a missile at a city. Though he could get away with it too. Ha hah, **NOPE**.\n\n\"You got any earplugs?\" I asked my new friend, who looked at me confused. \"I wanna take a walk but don't wanna hear any of this.\"\n\n\"Let me introduce you to some of my brothers and sisters. I get the feeling they would like you.\" He said, getting up and offering me a hand. They say that death is the next adventure, right? Well, I guess making friends with the Fallen populace would qualify as an adventure.... right?\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The beginning of your story is very strong, you immediately pull the reader in with the conversation between the Reporter and Lucifer. I like the way you use Lucifer's dialogue to set the scene and establish the tone of the story. The description of Hell is also well done, it is both creepy and fascinating.\n\nHowever, the middle of the story feels a bit rushed and unfinished. The dialogue between the Reporter and the man in the corner feels stiff and unnatural. The story also feels a bit unfinished, it ends abruptly without resolving the Reporter's story.\n\nOverall, this is a strong story with a lot of potential. I think with a bit more work, it could be really great."}
{"prompt": "*\u201cPoor ol\u2019 Ned was right as rain, but when it came to the Queen? He lacked brains.\u201d*\n\nThe captain rolled his eyes as the *Dead Horse* cut its way through to moor-waters. He\u2019d ordered his men to cease singing, but as they had approached their destination, it was the only thing cutting the tension. The peals of frogs and night-crickets cut through the air, the smokestack plugging away, the waxy black line drifting from the orange cinders. Tonight was the night.\n\n\u201cNavigation, how many leagues before we reach the Well?\u201d He yelled out over the din of the ship, idle sailors watching the swampy water anxiously.\u201cThree-quarters sir, the bastion is well behind us now. Naught but the Drowned City ahead.\u201d Came the call. He nodded, straightening his hat. \u201cKeep steady men, tonight we retire a legend for good.\u201d He walked across the deck, surveying his station.\n\n*\u201cFought an\u2019 stole her heart away, found what lay beneath The Bay.\u201d*\n\n\u201cHelmsman. I do believe I forbade such talk on my ship, until certain order can be restored and this accursed gaol is well behind us.\u201d He scowled at his officer. \u201cForgive me captain, its just\u2026\u201d The man\u2019s hands were steady on the wheel, but the rest of his body looked ready to shake apart. \u201cIt\u2019s a bit unsettling. Why do we even have to check, if I may ask? Faceless is just a legend, isn\u2019t he?\u201d The captain snorted. \u201cNo, \u2018e was real. But the difference in being real and being legend is the same between live and dead. Tell me, you honestly think that a man, any man, could survive the Tomorrow?\u201d The helmsman frowned. \u201cThat\u2019s right.\u201d The captain straightened his belt. \u201cThey just want to put fears to rest back home, show that ghost stories don\u2019t hold power over the Blues. And we\u2019ll be the ones to prove it as fact.\u201d With the helmsman's fears addressed, he turned to watch as men busied themselves, never staring out past the stern, to the wall that watched. He could only hope they were overheard enough to assure the rest.\n\n*\u201cLocked away for his crime, sent to rot for all of time,\"*\n\n\"The swamp-trees broke away, a clearing shining in the darklight of the swamp. \u201cCaptain, destination in sight!\u201d Broke from one of the men. \u201cBring us about! Ready the Bathysphere! Prepare to sink her!\u201d He called out. Men began to shout, relaying orders as they pulled into the station, a well of shell-rock that stretched out, the mouth of a worm extending down, down into the water. He almost hoped that the Sphere was too big, but whatever horror had built this place had ensured that would not be the case. As the ship rested alongside it, he peered into the water resting inside.\n\nIt was pure, pitch black. One would assume it more akin to oil or tar as the lights of the night sky seemed to be doused by its stare. An alien, desolate black in the lush swamp. One of the prow-lights was shone down into it. He swore he saw something, a trick of his eyes. He swallowed. \u201cNot too late captain. No one\u2019s watching us.\u201d The helmsman, now without need of his post, stood nearby. The implication to abandon duty, in any other scenario, would have prompted roaring from the captain.\n\nBut the Well was so deep, so strange a thing that it captured his attention fully. \u201cHow far down\u2019s it go?\u201d Asked someone. \u201cThey say it goes down and away. From everything.\u201d\n\n*\u201cOr so they thought, Or so they thought,\"*\n\nWithout lifting his eyes, the captain motioned. \u201cMake ready men. We drop her down, wait, then pull it up. Three bells, just like the song.\u201d The sailors nodded, their loyalty overcoming their fear. The swamp seemed silent now, the frogs and insects stilled, watching the procession unfold. The Bathysphere was raised, the crane moving to hang her over the well, the brass of the compartment gleaming in the prow-light.\n\nThe heavy cord lowered, dipping the bobber into the water. It began to sink, the crisp white of the ship\u2019s light showing it sparkle as it went deeper. Deeper. Deeper. Until it too sank into that alien dark, without a trace beside the line holding it. The creak of the ship moaned as it went down. More and more coil dropping, until-\n\n*\u201cHis fate amended by his lost love, who\u2019d do anything to bring him back above,\u201d*\n\n\u201cCaptain! We\u2019re out of slack.\u201d Came the cry. He nodded. Casting his eyes back to the coil, which was all that remained in their worldly view of the sphere, he stood his chin up proudly. \u201cNow we wait.\u201d\n\nThe eerie silence hung over them like a gallows. \u201cFog on the water sir.\u201d He heard call outs as the mist began to drift over them. The captain\u2019s collar felt sweaty. Was it the heat of the swampy air? \u201cSteady men. Steady.\u201d He called out.\n\nIt was well hard to see anything now. But the frogs returned then, their bellows and choruses loud and strong over the mud and silt. The noise brought comfort. It brought rationality back to him. No man could live for half a millennia, surely not. And especially not here. This was not a place men could survive. He nodded. \u201cNot long now.\u201d The rest of the men were more interested in the fog now, these were wild waters after all, one need always be on guard.\n\n*\u201cSo she peeled his face clean off, a memento of the love she lost,\u201d*\n\nWith that whispered verse, he nodded again. \u201cAlright boys, show\u2019s over! Pull her up, and let's away from this mud-\u201d\n\n1/2 check replies\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening sentence is a great hook to pull readers in. However, the rest of the opening paragraph feels a bit choppy in terms of sentence structure and grammar. I would recommend going through and simplifying some of the sentences. For example, \"The captain rolled his eyes as the *Dead Horse* cut its way through to moor-waters\" could be simplified to \"The captain rolled his eyes as the *Dead Horse* cut through the moor-waters.\"\n\nI like the tension that is building in the second paragraph as the ship approaches its destination. However, I would recommend using stronger verbs to convey the sense of unease and dread that the characters are feeling. For example, \"The peals of frogs and night-cricks cut through the air, the smokestack plugging away, the waxy black line drifting from the orange cinders\" could be rewritten as \"The deafening peals of frogs and night-cricks cut through the air, the smokestack belching black smoke, the waxy black line drifting from the orange cinders.\"\n\nThe third paragraph does a good job of addressing the helmsman's fears and providing exposition about the mission. However, I would recommend breaking this paragraph up into shorter, simpler sentences. Additionally, I would recommend using active voice throughout this paragraph to make the writing more concise and direct.\n\nThe fourth paragraph effectively sets the scene and provides a sense of foreboding. I would recommend using stronger verbs to convey the sense of unease and dread that the characters are feeling. For example, \"The swamp seemed silent now, the frogs and insects stilled, watching the procession unfold\" could be rewritten as \"The swamp fell silent, the frogs and insects stilled, as they watched the procession unfold.\"\n\nThe fifth paragraph effectively builds tension as the Bathysphere is lowered into the well. I would recommend using active voice throughout this paragraph to make the writing more concise and direct.\n\nThe sixth paragraph effectively builds tension as the Bathysphere is lowered into the well. I would recommend using active voice throughout this paragraph to make the writing more concise and direct.\n\nThe seventh paragraph does a good job of conveying the captain's sense of pride and resolve. However, I would recommend using active voice throughout this paragraph to make the writing more concise and direct.\n\nThe eighth paragraph effectively builds tension as the Bathysphere is lowered into the well. I would recommend using active voice throughout this paragraph to make the writing more concise and direct.\n\nThe ninth paragraph effectively builds tension as the Bathysphere is lowered into the well. I would recommend using active voice throughout this paragraph to make the writing more concise and direct.\n\nIn general, I would recommend using active voice throughout the story to make the writing more concise and direct. Additionally, I would recommend using stronger verbs to convey the sense of unease and dread that the characters are feeling."}
{"prompt": "\"Only the dead are immortal.\"\n\nWith very few exceptions (and I am not one), only the dead gain immortality. They do this through deeds and actions, the legacy they leave behind. Men like Washington and Lincon let a legacy shine, leaving a great country. Others take the easy path. Hitler killed enough people and caused enough ruckus that few will forget him. Change history, and be at the head. Having a funny mustache or being short helps too.\n\nI took the easy way.\n\nThey locked up my corpse and left it to rot. As for me, I have just sat here waiting. I heard they were about to open the door, and based on the hushed tones, they still fear me. After all these centuries, they fear a body. why, it must be a pile of bones now! \n\nThe guard wakes with a start- \"What the hell kind of dream was that?\" \n\nI laugh, and the guard shivers. He has no idea who's bench he sat on. He gets up and walks off. Oh how I love messing with their feeble minds. I can't wait until they dispose of that corpse, oh the confusion and panic I will cause. I may be dead, but I still have a few tricks up my sleeve...\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening sentence is very strong and sets up the rest of the story nicely. I like the idea of the protagonist being a dead person who is waiting for something. However, I think the second paragraph could be stronger. Instead of talking about how other dead people have become immortal, I think it would be more interesting to focus on the protagonist and what he/she is doing. For example, you could describe how the protagonist is feeling or what he/she is thinking about.\n\nThe third paragraph is good and provides some interesting information about the story. I think you could develop this further by providing more details about the guard's dream. For example, you could describe what the dream was about in more detail.\n\nThe ending of the story is good and ties everything together nicely. I think you could make it even stronger by providing more information about what the protagonist plans to do next. For example, you could describe how the protagonist is going to mess with the guard's mind."}
{"prompt": "He looked like a skeleton.\n\nHis hair were only wisps of smoke. His skin was greyed and wrinkled, sagging under its own weight. His arms looked like thin twigs held together by only the vestiges of muscle that could still remain.\n\nBut he was alive.\n\nAlmost 400 years since he was sentenced for one of the most gruesome mass murders in recorded history.\n\n\"How the hell is he even still alive?\" the guards asked, almost once a day. His body still accepted the food, though he ate very little. One of the guards swore you could see the food after he swallowed it. No one else had the stomach to watch.\n\nI was told that one of my maternal ancestors had actually witnessed his crimes. That she had hidden and cried as silently as she could when the blood began to seep into her hiding spot. He gave himself up willingly, that was how it was told, but many neglect to say he had snapped the neck of the person who first approached him.\n\nAbout 150 years into his sentence, people had long since recognized something was wrong. Lawyers, desperate to make a name for themselves, argued he'd served his time. That he was no longer a threat to mankind in his state. He had loudly announced that he would serve his full term. 400 years. The stenographer ended the transcript with only two words, unwilling to be in the room anymore than that. Oddly enough, they weren't even words spoken aloud.\n\n\"He smiled.\"\n\nLooking at him now, I can only imagine what they would have seen.\n\n250 years into his sentence, inmates were attempting to kill him. At least 2 had gotten themselves imprisoned with the express purpose of ending this evil man's life. They died chocking on their own blood. The guards at the time had seen them approach him. Had seen him make an attempt at talking them away. Had seen them strike the first blow. And watched as he crushed their throats.\n\nIn the trial afterwards, he was acquitted due to overwhelming witness testimony. His sentence remained. The guards still moved him into solitary, to discourage any other attempts. He didn't seem to mind.\n\n350 years into his sentence, I had needed to find a job. I'd moved from Australia to find better work in Europe. I'd sold my parents' house after they passed to fund the entire trip. I wanted to get back to my roots. Turns out, my roots didn't want anything to do with me.\n\nI got a job at the prison, pretty sure the local rumors of a monster was just that, a rumor. But when I first saw him, he already looked dead. He saw me for the first time and.... smiled, like he recognized me. It was at that moment I remembered the scary stories my mom had shared with me when I was a teenager.\n\nI stayed far away from him.\n\nIt's been 49 years since I first joined. He hasn't said a single word that I've ever heard. The records still prove that he has 1 year to go, but I'm not even sure what's going to happen. I drew the short straw so I have to deliver his food.\n\nI stop at his door and open the slates.\n\nHe's not sitting down on his bed.\n\nHe's standing. The only thing between him and me, is a 3-inch solid steel door. It feels too thin. I can't see his face, but I feel that smile. That feeling of dread, of something that shouldn't be human. But it is. \n\nI slide the food through, and I see his hands, skeletal and sunken. He grabs it quickly, jerking it away with a force I couldn't imagine possible.\n\nI feel my heart pounding in my chest as I step away. The slate is still open, and I see him shuffle forward to his bed. He turns around and I see his sunken skull of a face, smiling. Not showing all of his teeth, barely a smirk. But he's smiling.\n\nHe's staring at me.\n\nHe picks up a small piece of chicken and slowly raises it to his mouth, swallowing it whole. I see it as it falls through his chest.\n\nHe sucks the grease from his finger, never ceasing that damnable smile.\n\nHe raises a single finger, and his cheeks start to stretch as his smile widens.\n\nOne more year.\n\nOne more year.\n\nOne more year.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story is well-written and engaging. I particularly liked the way you built suspense and tension throughout. However, there are a few areas where you could improve.\n\nFirst, I would recommend being more specific in your descriptions. For example, when you describe the protagonist's ancestor watching the mass murderer, you could be more specific about what she saw and how it made her feel.\n\nSecond, I would recommend using more active verbs. For example, instead of saying \"He was acquitted due to overwhelming witness testimony,\" you could say \"The jury acquitted him due to the overwhelming witness testimony.\"\n\nOverall, this is a well-written and suspenseful story. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "\u201cIt seems like your sentence is almost up Logan,\u201d said Brady.\n\n\u201cWould you look at that, replied Logan, I guess it is.\u201c\n\n\u201cWhat are you going to do when you get out?\u201d asked Brady.\n\n\u201cThe first thing I\u2019m going to do is to put all my meditation practice into effect. I am going to talk to people nice. I am going to  treat people right. I do not ever want to return to this pit. And then I am going to carve my teeth into the meatiest juiciest cheeseburger I can find.\u201d\n\nThe two cellmates filled the empty room with laughter from the heart. Although Brady had only known Logan for a few months they had become dependent on one another\u2019s talents and skills. Brady was a tattoo artist on the outside and a pretty darn good one. Some of his work made it to the best known tattoo magazines in world. He took pride in his work and remained skillful in his craft. Logan was an engineer and could make a rocketship from the spare parts of a beat up Volkswagen Beetle. They never took the time to know each other\u2019s personal history. All they knew was that one could paint and the other could make tools to paint with. They got along fine for the most part.\n\nYo Logan, asked Brady, I know we agreed to not ask each other stupid questions but it would make my remaining time here more or less bearable if I knew how a guy like you wound up in a place like this.\u201d\n\nThe truth is Brady, replied Logan, I fell victim to a game I did not understand the rules to. I played at high stakes and lost.\n\n\u201dDont give me that crap, protested Brady, who was the one who had your back when the Mexicans wanted your head for ruining the drug trade with the blacks. If it wasn\u2019t for me you would be in a wheelchair or worse.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow about this, offered Logan, tatoo that drawing of Marilyn Monroe hanging from your bunk and ill tell you the whole story.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood one Logan, replied Brady, me and Monroe are staying together through thick and thin. But I can tattoo my latest drawing. I stayed up all night sketching this. And you dont want to know how long it took me to think of the concept.\u201d\n\n\u201cDeal, concurred Logan, so what do you want to know?\n\n\u201cHow did you end up in a place like?\u201d this responded Brady.\n\n\u201dLong story short I murdered the man my wife was cheating on me with, concluded Logan. At first everyone believed it was a love crime so i got a minimum sentence. Upon my release i murdered the first guy who looked at me the wrong way. That was my second strike. Finally, I did my parole officer and that was strike three. If the autopsy didn\u2019t reveal that he had enough drugs in his system to support a small party i would have probably gotten the death sentence.\u201d\n\n\u201cWow Logan, replied Brady, way to lay it on gently. Also remind me not to get into any staring contest with you .\n\nOne waited for the other to laugh before the release of the lightness within his being but eventually both were engulfed in merry laughter.  They both drank and shared their commissary with one another. Brady took care not to drink too much because he valued his reputation as an artist too much to have anything he tattooed be considered subpar. Logan made sure to drink enough to make the pain as bearable as possible. He could build pretty much anything given the time and resources but he knew that the ink machine he created out of cd player parts was going to sting considerably compared to the tatoo guns from the shops.\n\n\u201cAre you sure you want this tattoo, asked Brady, it wont hurt me none if you decide you are better off without it.\u201d\n\n\u201cFire up the gun, replied Logan, and I will pretend you didn\u2019t break one of the rules that has kept us off each other\u2019s throats.\u201c\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s hard to believe that a guy like you used to be a cold blooded killer admitted Brady, if i had to describe my experience with you from the time we spent locked up together I would say it was nothing less than spiritual. The sketch I drew was partly based on some of the teachings of the Tao but I would have never even heard of them if it were not for your sleep talking. I might have saved you from the brown and proud but you saved me too.\u201d\n\n\u201cI think that shot of hooch got to your head Brady, answered Logan. If I am not mistaken I  have yet to ball up my fist or even pick up a weapon for that matter so how is that I saved you from anyone.\u201c\n\n\u201cYou saved me from myself, answered Brady.\n\n\u201cKeep that gun running Brady, said Logan, I think you might be drunk enough to let it turn off and sober enough to try to turn it back on. I am many things but a savior? Say how long did you let that stuff ferment for?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot long enough, replied Brady.\n\nThey both shared a laugh worth its weight in gold. Logan enjoyed the rest of the night sipping the hooch they had prepared for moments like these. Brady only drunk enough to keep him focused on his craft. The rest of the night was comprised of Brady tattooing and Logan Enjoying the fermented drink. It was not long before morning came. Both were exhausted from staying up through the night but were ready for a new day.\n\n\u201cThere all finished, said Brady, Whaddya think?\u201d\n\n\u201cI might kill someone else in case i want to get another tattoo, replied Logan, is what i think.\u201d\n\nThey both laughed and if it wasn\u2019t for the announcement coming from the speakers located in every other cell they would have continued laughing until tears sprouted from their eyes.\n\n\u201cOpen cell four, hollered a deputy, Ramirez and Holvic step out of your cells with your hands where i can see them.\u201d The warden has a special job for you two. Mess this up and you can say goodbye to your release. But do a good job and you wont have to worry about setting foot in a place like this or money for that matter.\u201d\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story is well-written and engaging. I particularly liked the banter between the two cellmates. However, there are a few areas that could be improved.\n\nFirst, you have a lot of dialogue in your story. While this is not necessarily a bad thing, too much dialogue can make a story feel choppy. You may want to consider breaking up some of the dialogue with action or description.\n\nSecond, you have several typos in your story. While typos are not necessarily a deal-breaker, they can be distracting for readers. I would recommend proofreading your story before submitting it for publication.\n\nOverall, you have a lot of potential as a writer. I encourage you to keep writing and to seek feedback from other writers."}
{"prompt": "\"Well now that's just rude.\" My human friend said, looking over my shoulder. \"I mean people still name their kids Murphy. And those kids could be assholes no one wants to talk to.\"\n\nI nodded in laughter at the joke. Murphy was a bit of a rude person, but he generally meant well. Plus he was small enough to get through to vent shaft B on the lower decks. Someone that useful can't be a bad person. \n\n\"So where are we heading this trip?\" He asked, looking through some of the new schematics for breathing modifications.\n\n\"I think the Rnwx planetoid. These modifications don't make sense for many other species in this region.\" I tapped a page with a claw.\n\nMurphy stared at the page. It looked as if I had made a tiny puncture. I was about to apologize, but I noticed the diagram was still legible enough to have not dampened its utility. \n\n\"You know...\" Murphy said, and I noticed his face contort to show his upper mandibles. \"We don't really get into the vents this deep that often....\" he paused. I blinked in agreement to his prompt. \"We COULD make a few modifications of our own.\"\n\nI could almost feel the next words before they were spoken. \"What could go wrong?\" I turned around and started slithering away. \"No, that wouldn't be of any use. It'd waste time.\" I said.\n\nI could feel Murphy loudly clomping after me as fast as he could. \"You don't even know what I'm saying. It could end up being useful. Might even get us recognized and being part of the standard ship design.\"\n\nMy body froze. To have your personal modifications deemed so useful as to be standardized.........\nNo, the pamphlet is useful in that it prevents time waste and damage control.\nMurphy grabbed the pamphlet from under my arm and held it out. \"Just imagine a manual... with your name... right there.\" And tapped the author's name with his dull claw. \n\nIf the modifications were successful, I could write manuals. Not just pamphlets. Manuals. Every other crewmember who installed them would read my name and see I had been staggeringly useful to the whole of the federation.\n\nMy claw lashed out and snatched the schematics he had under his arm, the same way he had done to me. Only my claw made a much larger hole now. It definitely damaged its utility, but I no longer cared. Murphy had gotten in my head, and the possibilities were burning through my mind.\n\n\"You are an asshole.\" I said, my head bobbing in uncontrollable laughter as I slithered as fast as I could towards the vents.\n\n\"Now what did you have in mind?\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of your story is strong and immediately sets up the conflict between the two characters. I like the use of dialogue to establish this conflict. However, there are a few places where the dialogue feels a bit stilted and unnatural. For example, the line \"I mean people still name their kids Murphy. And those kids could be assholes no one wants to talk to.\" feels like something that would be better said in thought or narration, rather than dialogue.\n\nThe second half of the story is very well done. I love the escalation of the conflict, and the way that it leads to the climax of the story. The ending is also very satisfying.\n\nOverall, this is a strong story with some great character development. There are a few places where the dialogue could be improved, but overall this is a very well-written piece."}
{"prompt": "So, once upon a time, I say\n\nThere lived a man with noted fame\n\nAn engineer with talents bright\n\nDesigning aircraft, super-flight!\n\n*\n\nNow, Edward Murphy was his name\n\nAnd through his work he earned acclaim\n\nBut aerospace was not his crown\n\nNor military service rounds\n\n*\n\nIt turns out Murphy's greatest feat\n\nWas speaking such a line complete\n\n*If anything can go a'wrong...*\n\nThen **\"Murphy's Law\"** \u2013 *It WILL go wrong!*\n\n*\n\nWhat does it mean, this Murphy's Law?\n\nWell, simply put \u2013 it means \"You fall\"\n\nYou're late and driving off for work?\n\n*Guess what: the car's transmission spurts*\n\n*\n\nA sunny day for picnic fun?\n\n*Now, sudden storm \u2013 the day is done*\n\nYou're craving coffee at the store?\n\n*Oh dear, no wallet \u2013 drinks no more*\n\n\n\n*\n\nYour wedding dress is beautiful?\n\n*It's torn and now unusable*\n\nFive hours typing essay work?\n\n*A power surge \u2013 PC is nurked*\n\n\n*\n\nThere's much more we could so discuss\n\nBut now, I think we've had enough\n\nYou understand the gist of this\n\nIt's clear \u2013 no more such reminisce \n\n*\n\nSo now we've talked of Murphy's Law\n\n(It's pleasant as a Devil's Claw)\n\nIs there a way to counteract\n\nSuch supernatural curse abstract?\n\n*\n\nCould we, in any shape or form\n\nFight back this pessimistic swarm?\n\nAre we condemned to suffer through\n\nThis imminent, impending doom?\n\n*\n\nNow, hear me out \u2013 let me explain\n\nJust give me time, I will not feign\n\nThere may just be a wise id'ea\n\nNo need to pray for Hail Mar'ias\n\n*\n\nIt's simple, see, it's not all bad\n\nSolution for this Murphy lad\n\nA person need not stand and fight\n\nGet hurt from *paranormal blight*\n\n*\n\nThe answer's staring at our eyes\n\nJust grab some snacks, some cake, and pies\n\nGo snuggle under blankets warm\n\nAnd read some Reddit more and more\n\n&amp;nbsp;\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The beginning of your story is very choppy and difficult to read. I would suggest starting with a more straightforward opening sentence. For example:\n\n\"Once upon a time, there lived a man with noted fame. An engineer with talents bright, designing aircraft, super-flight!\"\n\nThis would be much easier for the reader to follow.\n\nYour use of rhyme is commendable, but you need to be careful not to force it. In the second stanza, for example, the rhyme is forced and awkward. It sounds better if you let the rhyme happen naturally.\n\nYour story has a good overall message, but it is somewhat heavy-handed. I would suggest being a bit more subtle in your delivery.\n\nOverall, this is a good start to a story. With a bit more work, it could be really great!"}
{"prompt": "Contrary to popular belief, not all demons are hell bent on spreading pain and suffering. Some lesser demons don't fancy it all even. Hell, it's a little, different from the surface world. You have your power tripping middle management except you can't just quit your job down here. No, it's a long exhausting process when you factor in eternity. You see time works differently, so much so that it's pretty much non-existent. But goddammit is the boredom as real as it can be. They use that shit against you in a fashion you quite literally cannot fathom. Needless to say, many demons don't have a choice but to meet their quota of what you probably know as possessions. I've watched just about every possession movie you humans have put out, huge fan. While their are some that get fairly close, none of them correctly depict how the possessions progress from infection to death and/or extraction. \n\nI can almost guarantee you've come acrossed someone possessed by one of these types of demons or you yourself were being controlled by one. Think back, most of you would have experienced this as a kid. Remember when your brother or sister, maybe even a cousin or a friend, randomly decided to steal something? For no particular reason at all, they just felt like it. Never had they stolen something before. That was a lessor. Just trying to fill their quota as easy and quickly as possible. \n\nLike in the films, children are some of the easiest hosts to overcome. Except it's not because they are weak. Not at all, infact it's the opposite. Unbeknownst to human kind the spirit of a child is usually impossibly fortified. That's their downside. Their spirit knows this and it's too trusting because it feels itself impenetrable. That's how we get in. We show a friendly face and the doorknob turns. Drinking between friends also provides a relatively easy crack to slip through. We get those idiots to do dumbshit all the time. \"Hey bro, hold my beer. I'm gunna ram this golf cart into that tree.\" These lessors figured they could fill their quota without causing too much damage. They figured what could go wrong, you know? Middle management really never cared because quotas were being filled and it was less of a headache to just leave it be. It was good. \n\nI'm running out of time here, I'll start getting to the point. A couple of your centuries ago, we got this newbie. Top of their class in our most prestigious demon academy. All we've heard since they arrived is how naturally talented they are and how they could rival the big man himself with some gidden ace up his sleeve. Straight up brown nosing son of a bitch I tell you. He caught on to the lessors' scheme and turned it against them. Against us. There are far worse fates than death. Some worse than spending an eternity in hell even. To avoid the unthinkable, some of us started doing the unthinkable.\n\nYou see, some of you, are not who you think you are. We found a way to intertwine our being, with that of a humans. Not a mear possession but a complete take over. We gain all their memories, their tastes although sometimes they don't always stick quite right and you... we, remember something differently or suddenly don't like the taste of something previously savored. The downside is we lose ourselves. We do not keep our memories. We keep almost nothing of our former selves.\nYou have to realize that your friend, Murphy, isn't actually your friend. You don't remember anything about them before they asked you, \"What could go wrong?\" Or \"Hold my beer.\" Murphy caught on to us again and he is continuing what he started. He wants to infect all of us to build his army. There's a war being fought in hell, and we are losing. That's why I need you to remember. I NEED YOU TO STAY FAR AWAY FROM MURPHY.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Overall, this was a well-written and interesting story. However, there were a few areas that could be improved.\n\nFirst, I would recommend being more concise in your writing. This story tended to ramble in places and could have been tighter. For example, in the second paragraph, you could cut out the sentence about children being easy hosts. This is already implied by the fact that you said they are impossibly fortified.\n\nSecond, I would recommend using more active voice in your writing. There were a few instances of passive voice, which can make your writing sound stilted. For example, in the third paragraph, you could say \"The newbie arrived a couple centuries ago\" instead of \"A couple centuries ago, we got this newbie.\"\n\nFinally, I would recommend using more concrete images and details in your writing. In places, the story felt a bit abstract and could have benefited from more specific images and examples. For example, in the fourth paragraph, you could describe how the newbie took over the lessors' scheme, instead of just saying that he \"turned it against them.\"\n\nOverall, this was a well-written story with an interesting concept. With a few revisions, it could be even better."}
{"prompt": "I'm weird.  No. Strange?  who the fuck cares?  How about not normal?  But then again what's normal these days?  I'm asking too much.  Am I asking too much?  \n\nAll I know is that one day it started talking.  A lot of folks would have a hard time believing such a thing, and when confronted with empirical evidence you'd think they're that one dude who killed that other dude for freeing him in that greek story about the cave.  \n\nAnyway, I awoke as I do most mornings, generally afraid of leaving my bed for the discomfort.  Apart from the air conditioning, the news talking shit, and the slavery I so modestly called employment - I was not a very social person.  Seeing another human being was kind of a drag,  because it always seemed that such an encounter would always lead to some unnecessary social interreaction.  Especially, if there wasn't some apparent benefit. \n\n\"What's up sugar tits?\"  \n\nI must have been asleep, because as much as I felt that the voice was real, I must have been dreaming.  As a retired LSD connoisseur and tour guide, I was familiar with auditory hallucinations and where you might find them.  And surely, my killer would have to be either stupid or paranormal to think I am a worthy piece of ass.  \n\n\" You would not believe the shit you did last night.\"\n\nYep. Dreaming.  Back to sleep.  \n\nI had to pee.  Peeing in the morning is the true meaning of life.  A wife, kids, tasty food, and beverages.  I don't want it if I can't relieve myself in the morning, only to fall back asleep.  Pooping is alright.  But it requires alot more than peeing.  Fuck wiping.  \n\nShutting the bathroom door,  I leaned in over the toilet to compensate the trajectory of my stream.  What can I say?  The shorter it is, the harder to aim.  Especially with morning wood.  \n\nIt was at that moment I met Murphy for the first time.  You hear about Sigma males that name their penis, but I hopefully am the only one whose penis told me it's name.\n\n\" What's up bitch? \"\n\nWhat I thought was my urethra turned out to be a mouth, that started to piss on my face - much like a jock would make you a wedgie.  \n\n\"What the fuck?!\" I exclaimed as I tried to wipe my own urine off my face.\n\nLaughing maniacly it quoted the Exorcist \" Do you know what she did?  Your cuntting daughter?\"  \n\nDisturbed, I heard a desperate knocking @ the door.  \"Rich, you gotta get out here man.\"  \n\nCollecting myself and opening the door, I saw what I had been too groggy to see before.  Half the house was missing.  \" Look man,\" Joe said, \" I don't know what's going on but you got alot of explaining to do.\"\n\nThe street was lined with armored vehicles and it seemed as though people were rioting.  The military helicopters flew down above what was left of ms house.  \n\n\" Rich!  Rich!  Hey!  Riiich!\"  I could hear my dick cry out.  \n\n\"WHAT?!\" I yelled down looking annoyed.  \n\nMy dick chuckled looking at me smiling and all he said was \"Hi.\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " You have an interesting premise for a story, and you have definitely set the scene well. However, there are a few areas that could use some improvement.\n\nFirst, your dialogue feels a bit stilted and unnatural. Make sure that your characters are speaking in a way that feels natural and authentic to them.\n\nSecond, your story feels a bit choppy in places. Make sure to smooth out the transitions between scenes and paragraphs so that the reader can follow along more easily.\n\nOverall, you have a lot of potential with this story. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "Julia leaned back on her couch, masticating a banana.\n\n\"Ew, no. I'm not doing that sort of story,\" said Julia to the fourth nearest wall.\n\nMasticating just means chewing.\n\n\"Oh. Okay. A banana though? Still seems a little iffy.\"\n\nJulia masticated on a bowl of rice krispies, the pops and crunching mixing with the crackle of the quiet radio in the corner and the downpour of rain on the roof. The lights had been flickering all evening, but the power held until a bolt of lightning struck the transformer down the street. Her amber emergency lighting splashed over her face as she swallowed the last of the \u2014.\n\n\"No. You're doing that one on purpose. Try again.\"\n\nThe amber lights cast a pale, dim glow across the room as she finished the cereal. An urgent series of knocks sounded from the front door. Another crash of lightning highlighted the pounding.\n\n\"Alright, I'm going to go get that, but I want to be clear that when I stand up I'm going to be wearing appropriate clothing for a woman alone on a dark, stormy night. Not like some scream queen negligee.\"\n\nJulia creeped towards the door in her flannel pajama bottoms and ex-boyfriend's hoodie. The floorboards creaked under the feet. Wind drafted through the edges of the old door, which had no peephole. Julia wrapped a fist around the old baseball bat she kept near the door before opening it a crack.\n\nThere, lying on her doorstep in the rain, was a drenched lagomorph. Julia slammed the door.\n\n\"I'm not dealing with some werewolf.\"\n\nA lagomorph is just a rabbit. Like, a normal sized bunny. Just wet from the rain.\n\n\"Okay, but that doesn't explain the knocking.\"\n\nAs she stands there talking to the wall, Julia remembers that the antique door knocker would swing itself in heavy winds. She hated it, but the historical preservation commission wouldn't allow it to be changed. She opened the door.\n\nThe bunny was shivering in the cold, its light fur soaked with rain and its ears drooping. Julia looked around for others outside and glanced once more at the wall before leaning down to pick up the rabbit.\n\nThe animal was gentle and allowed her to get two hands under its front legs. When Julia lifted it up she gasped as what she saw.\n\nThe rabbit was cute, but it had a dark underbelly.\n\n\\[More writing at r/c_avery_m\\]\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has potential, but there are a few things you can do to improve your writing.\n\nFirst, watch your word choice. \"Masticating\" is not a word most people would use to describe someone eating a banana. You want to use words that are easy for your reader to understand.\n\nSecond, make sure your story is clear. In the beginning, it's not clear why Julia is talking to the wall. Is she crazy? Is the wall actually talking to her? It's not until later that we learn she's just talking to herself.\n\nFinally, watch your pacing. The story feels a bit slow in the beginning. You may want to consider starting with the rabbit at the door, rather than starting with Julia eating cereal.\n\nOverall, there is potential in your story. with a few tweaks, it could be really good."}
{"prompt": "The mass of tentacles and pus slithered across the room with wet, squelching sounds, unbothered by any manner of obstacle in its way, leaving behind only a thick, gooey substance of green slime that smelled of rotten seaweed and decaying meat. Several antennae atop its deformed cranium perked up and scanned the area, emanating head-crushing thumps with each wiggle - enough to make a human fall to the knees and shout, begging for death.\n\nIt stood there, nearly motionless, for a few moments, as if waiting for something that never came, much to its satisfaction. The outcome satisfactory to its hideous designs, it turned back to whence it came and with increasingly moist sounds made its way back to the den - a hole of black, craggy substance filled with darkness and forgotten nightmares. Inside, another abomination of smaller proportions lay in wait.\n\n\u03e8\u2c89\u2c89? \u2c92\u2ca7 \u2cb1\u2c81\ud835\uded3 \u2c9b\u2c9f\u2ca7\u2c8f\u2c93\u2c9b\ud835\udcf0 \u2c83\ud800\udf35\u2ca7 \u2c81 \ud835\uded3\u2c9f\ud800\udf35\u2c9b\u2c87, \u2ca3\ud800\udf35\u2c99\u2ca3\u2c95\u2c93\u2c9b. *(See? It was nothing but a sound, pumpkin.)*\n\nThe large mass directed these screeches towards the smaller one that was currently trembling beneath a pile of black dirt.\n\n\u2c80\ua785\u2c89 \u2ca9\u2c9f\ud800\udf35 \ud835\uded3\ud800\udf35\ua785\u2c89 \u2c99\ud800\udf35\u2c99? *(Are you sure mum?)*\n\nThe small creature replied, its vocations of far higher pitch than the other, enough to shatter glass and minds alike.\n\n\u2c9e\ud835\udcef \u2ca5\u2c9f\ud800\udf35\ua785\ud835\uded3\u2c89 \ud835\uded3\u2cb1\u2c89\u2c89\u2ca7\u2c93\u2c89. \u2c9a\u2c9f\u2cb1, \u2ca9\u2c9f\ud800\udf35 \u2c9b\u2c89\u2c89\u2c87 \u2ca7\u2c9f \ud835\udcf0\u2c9f \u2c83\u2c81\u2ca5\u2c95 \u2ca7\u2c9f \u2c83\u2c89\u2c87, \u2c9f\u2c95\u2c81\u2ca9? *(Of course sweetie. Now, you need to go back to bed, okay?)*\n\nThe larger mass, after several gurgling sounds, spat out an additional layer of dirt to cover the smaller tentacled horror. Several half-digested maggots could be seen writhing in the forsaken earth, much to the large mass' satisfaction.\n\nThe small mass, no longer trembling, ceased all movement altogether, now in a death-like stiffness. The tentacle monstrosity looming over it crawled towards the exit of the hovel with as little sound as its terrible frame allowed. At the edge of the precipice, it turned and quietly screeched some parting vocations.\n\n\u03e8\ud835\udcf5\u2c89\u2c89\u2ca3 \u2cb1\u2c89\ud835\udcf5\ud835\udcf5 \u2ca3\ud800\udf35\u2c99\u2ca3\u2c95\u2c93\u2c9b. *(Sleep well pumpkin.)*\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " GPT3 error: 'charmap' codec can't encode characters in position 1275-1277: character maps to <undefined>"}
{"prompt": "Sizzling, greasy oil oozed from the boy\u2019s pimples, the congealed puss slobbering onto his face. A trail of snot ran down his nose, hanging and swinging as it slid across his chin and lips, covering them in slimy mucus. It bobbed up and down as he moved, impossible for onlookers to ignore yet he seemed to ignore it, every once in a while trying to suck it back up into his mouth with a churning slurping sound.\n\nIn his hand was a sticky lollipop, strands of hair both human and animal, and tufts of fabric stuck to it. Its red coloring made it look more like an open head wound where one had to sift through the hair to get a good look at the crispy dirtied hemoglobin. The boy then stuck it in his mouth.\n\nThe boy made his way through the disquieting woods. The ground was moist and tender, each step felt like walking on a gigantic tongue marinating in spit and the remnants of unchewed lunch. Each step caused moisture to fizzle and gurgle, squishing up soggy water that smelled like wet dog and mildew towels. The sound was almost like the giant tongue was salivating, the forest\u2019s predatory, hungry gaze savoring the thought of swallowing him up with a dry, throaty gulp.\n\nThe boy smiled as he finally reached a small dog house. His smile was crooked and jagged with teeth crossing and folded over one another that might make a dentist consider tearing them out leaving the child with bleeding gums rather than fixing them with braces, shrugging at the lost cause.\n\nHe took out old moldy bread from his pocket where it had been mixing and mingling with smelly brass keys, melted chocolate goops, and muddy marbles, holding them out in front of the little hovel. A harsh ruff sounded from within, the sound like a sickly person gagging on their own mucus as they try to dispel it from their desiccated lungs.\n\nThe sound belonged to a mangy wolf with a blind, glassy eye, spouts of tangled hairballs stuck to their otherwise wrinkly pink hairless skin which was the same texture as an old rooster\u2019s flabby neck. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth, dry as sandpaper and hanging like a dead limb, flailing uselessly.\n\nIt scarfed down the bread, which was fuzzy and discolored from the mold, crumbs sticking in its teeth which seemed more like garnered tree knots than calcium fangs. The wolf smiled feverishly at the malnourished offering, licking the boy\u2019s sweaty face with its tendril-like tongue causing the boy to break into laughter which echoed through the forest like a woman\u2019s last scream before her dying breath.\n\nThe boy embraced the wolf with stubby, muddy arms, nuzzling his slimy cheeks with the wolf\u2019s jagged ones. The boy smiled a secret smile one might see on immature fops who had just watched an elderly person trip. The boy pulled out a small green ball the color of mold and mucus which caused the wolf\u2019s eye to light up like a burning hospital. He grinned his discomforting grin before hurling the ball which the wolf eagerly pursued and returned to him. The two continued their back and forth even as the night grew ever more dark and disquieting.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of this story is very effective in setting the tone and mood. The description of the boy is disgusting and immediately sets a tone of unease. The use of sensory detail is very good, and I particularly like the way the forest is described as being predatory.\n\nHowever, there are some issues with sentence structure and word choice. For example, \"In his hand was a sticky lollipop, strands of hair both human and animal, and tufts of fabric stuck to it.\" This sentence is confusing and could be rewritten more clearly. Additionally, \"The sound was almost like the giant tongue was salivating, the forest\u2019s predatory, hungry gaze savoring the thought of swallowing him up with a dry, throaty gulp.\" This sentence is clunky and could be rewritten more concisely.\n\nOverall, this is a well-written and atmospheric piece. With some minor corrections, it could be even stronger."}
{"prompt": "He fell. From inmeansurable heights he fell during what must have been a few treacherous seconds, yet to him felt like nothing less than an eternity of mindless thrill and torment. When the crushing hit of the fall happened, there was no solid land, only the unforgiving, ever itching bites of sand. He cried. What was a grievous scratch of pain were, to his perception, the agonizing throes of once healthy bones now shattered into brittle bits, puncturing his flesh and nerve endings to depths unprecedented. \n\nAs he screamed in nameless suffering, he looked up to the skies, in hopes of seeing the colossal shadow of his protectors loom over his hurtful soul to comfort him, yet all he saw were the cold, dead handles of the slide's plastic steps. There was no hope for healing and a future, at least while his nerves roared damnedly hoping for the torment to stop.\n\nAs it turns out, little Jake from year 3 kindergarden mis-stepped on the playground slide, and had barely scraped his arm on break-time.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are some areas that need work. First, your story is told from an omniscient third person point of view. This means that the reader knows everything that is happening, even Jake's thoughts and feelings. While this can be effective in some cases, it can also be confusing for the reader. It might be better to choose one character's point of view to focus on.\n\nSecond, your story is very short. While this is not necessarily a bad thing, it can make it difficult to develop the characters and plot. Try to add a bit more detail to help the reader understand what is happening.\n\nFinally, your story ends abruptly. Jake's fall is described in great detail, but the resolution is very brief. What happens after Jake falls? Does he get up? Does he cry? Does he go to the hospital? This is something you will need to consider when revising your story."}
{"prompt": "I swear that I love you. Your face glows red like an invisible man is choking you. It was always that way. Your neck is too skinny like it\u2019s bound with some nylon rope, and your eyes pop like a bug. It isn\u2019t far from you looking actively disfigured, like a fast food worker would trip over their words when they looked you in the eye. You are my lobster, your skin is red and oily like it\u2019s slicked in garlic butter. I\u2019m so hot for you I\u2019ll boil you. You are my rotten darling, I wanna lick the craters in your face and swallow the acne. I wanna press my rotten teeth against yours until they crack. I wanna suck the piss out of you and then lick it back over you. I love you.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Firstly, I want to commend you on your descriptive language. You have a real talent for making the reader visualize your characters and setting. However, there are a few areas you could improve on.\n\nFor example, you could try to be a little more concise in your writing. In the first sentence, you could say \"I love you\" instead of \"I swear that I love you\". This would make your writing flow better and be less repetitive.\n\n Additionally, you could try to vary your sentence structure a little more. At the moment, a lot of your sentences are quite short and simple. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but mixing up your sentence lengths a bit would add more interest to your writing.\n\nFinally, you could try to be a little more original in your descriptions. For example, instead of saying \"your eyes pop like a bug\", you could say \"your eyes bulge out of your head\".\n\nOverall, you have a lot of talent and potential as a writer. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "He stood alone. Lost. Looking in every direction. Abandoned. The high ceiling and narrow walls made his anxiety worse. The tears started to well in his eyes. \"I'm a big boy. I can do this.\" He tells himself.\n\n He sees her red shirt and her familiar hair. He runs up to her. Embraces her leg. She looks down. He watched in horror as her face changed from his mother's to another. Tears couldn't be held back. Then her voice screamed from the end of the isle. \"Get over here you rug-rat. You have to stay close to mommy in the store.\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of this story is very strong and evocative. We immediately feel sympathy for the protagonist and feel his anxiety and confusion. The use of detail in the description of the store is also excellent. Where this story falters slightly is in the shift from the mother to the stranger. This change is not entirely believable and feels abrupt. Furthermore, the dialogue feels stilted and unnatural. With a few small tweaks, this could be an excellent short story."}
{"prompt": "She was on the door of death. Pale palid skin withering away as finality crept ever closer and closer. She coughs, wet and phlegmy, a glob of bloodied snot spitting out and disintigrating into the sheets. \n\n\"What... what time is it?\" her voice croaks. \n\nA damp wet towel is pressed to her forehead. \"Morning,\" the reply is tired, so wrung out of emotions that all it can do is whisper. \"How are you doing my dear? How do you feel?\"\n\nShe opens her mouth to respond, but something else shoves its way out. Vomit: yellow, acidic and warm. It spills out onto the bed, just enough to drench the sheets, but little enough due to her previous regurgitations. \n\n\"Here,\" a frigid glass is pressed to her lips. It hurts to touch, biting at skin and bone, and the water is even more so. The deluge almost makes her vomit it right back up, but a hissed breath and whispered curse keep it down. \n\n\"I...\" she whispers.\n\n\"You'll be fine,\" even in the situation, even in spite of the doubt in his voice, he brings all his scared courage to the forefront, \"You'll be fine,\" he repeats, \"You're getting better. Heaven be damned I will spend an eternity by your side if that is what it takes for you to get better. I won't let you go.\"\n\nShe meets his wavering confidence with her own, \"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere.\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story is well-written and engaging. However, there are a few areas that could be improved.\n\nFirst, your description of the protagonist's illness is very graphic and may be too much for some readers. You may want to tone it down a bit.\n\nSecond, the dialogue between the protagonist and the other character could be more natural. It sounds a bit stilted and forced in places.\n\nOverall, this is a well-written story with a lot of potential. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "Slice. Slice. Slice.\n\nIt came apart so easily, he mused.\n\nSlice. Slice. Squish.\n\nIt was leaking again, he\u2019d have to be more careful.\n\nSquish. Squish. Squish.\n\nWell, there was nothing for it now.\n\nThe colors pooled together, rivulets of crimson wound their way down the shattered and stained mass. At last they pooled on the porcelain floor, gathering with the cast off chunks idly flicked away.\n\nIt had been so pretty when he started. It was beautiful. It was artwork. It was ruined and reduced and ruptured and wretched and weak and worthless and-\n\nNo, there was no time for that now. No time for anything except wiping away the trickling evidence of his error in judgement. Soon, the unblinking eye would be upon him, and he would learn whether he had succeeded, or if his sacrifice and torture was all for naught.\n\nHe had poured much of himself into his suffering creation. It repaid him with a soft gurgle, the last gasp it would ever emit. He cursed it, as much as it had cursed him.\n\nThe work had proven far more painful than he anticipated. He knew the cost, he thought, but the real cost was paid not in coin or sweat, but from his rapidly thinning sanity. Not to say that the cost in coin hadn\u2019t weighed heavily on him. Each component was far more expensive than he realized at the outset, and some were deceptively rare.\n\nIt had taken ages to acquire everything he needed. There were few that possessed them. And they were not moved by his plight, the countless letters of inquiry he had sent were silent testament to that.\n\nEven the knowledge of it had cost him dearly. And he paid a price that could not be measured in mundane currencies. For to obtain this knowledge, he had become a betrayer, stealing the secrets from his mentor, cajoling them into surrendering each drip of information until at last he had collected it all.\n\nWhen his mentor learned of the foul deed, he found himself banished from their sight. No matter how he pleaded, they refused to meet his gaze. It was cold comfort to know that this was the way of master and apprentice. The way his mentor had learned the secrets of the trade, through their own act of treachery many moons ago.\n\nFrom above, a light. It was time.\n\nHe set forth the pitiful offering. It seemed so meagre now. Unworthy of such an audience.\n\nHe held back a tear at the thought of all he had lost in pursuit of his dreams.\n\nUp it rose, higher and higher, the broken body torn asunder and carried up to the unblinking eye.\n\nThere was a blinding flash followed by a chorus of laughter. Had he failed?\n\nOnly they could judge him now.\n\nOne of the slices slumped over on its side, filling the void left by its missing brethren. The cherries spilled out from beneath its papery skin, barely restrained by the rich oozing caramel and apples soaked in an exotic blend of spices from the far corners of the globe. It was a bold combination, one his mother had been perfecting for years, a modification of the simple cherry tarts she ate as a young girl.\n\nThe judges frowned, scribbling in their notebooks. They seemed displeased, but then, when all seemed lost, one spoke:\n\n\u201cPoints for creativity, depth of flavor, a fine crust leaning towards tender rather than flaky\u2026\u201d\n\nThe printed photographs taken only moments earlier were distributed amongst those present, stuffed away alongside countless other hopes and prayers captured in chemical-impregnated cellulose.\n\nShe looked deep into his despairing eyes, drinking in his muted, quivering form, and spake thus:\n\n\u201cCome now, cheer up, will you? The pie tastes great! What\u2019s in it, anyway?\u201d\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are a few areas that need work. First, your opening scene is a bit confusing. It's not clear what is happening or why. You might want to consider starting with a different scene, or providing more information up front.\n\nSecond, your story is told from a very close third person perspective, which can be difficult to sustain for an entire story. You might want to consider changing to a first person perspective, or using a more omniscient third person perspective.\n\nThird, your story has a lot of information about the background and history of the protagonist, but it's not clear how this information is relevant to the story. You might want to consider cutting some of this information, or finding a way to make it more relevant.\n\nFourth, the ending of your story is a bit abrupt and unsatisfying. You might want to consider expanding it, or providing more information about the outcome of the protagonist's efforts."}
{"prompt": "I reach into the nest and grab the animals young, I smash its weak form into my desk, before pouring it's guts into a bowl.\n\n&amp;#x200B;\n\nThe young dealt with, I go after it's mother; ripping free her skin, I expertly slice the flesh apart, revelling in the perfect slices that I rip free.\n\n&amp;#x200B;\n\nNext, the ultimate disrespect. I drop the lacerated flesh into the remains of her child, making sure they're well combined. I finish my fell combinations, with a scattering of charred oats, before throwing everything into a fire.\n\n&amp;#x200B;\n\nSoon, at last, my chicken strips will be complete...\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening sentence is very strong and immediately grabs the reader's attention. However, the rest of the paragraph is somewhat confusing and unclear. What exactly are you trying to describe? Is this a story about a person who is killing and cooking animals, or is there something else going on? If so, make sure to be more clear.\n\nThe second paragraph is also confusing. Why are you ripping the skin off the mother? And why do you drop the lacerated flesh into the remains of her child? Again, if there is some sort of point or symbolism to this, make sure it is clear to the reader.\n\nThe final paragraph is much clearer, and the last sentence is a nice twist. Overall, though, the story is confusing and unclear. Make sure to be more specific and detailed in your descriptions, and to clarify the point of the story."}
{"prompt": "You know, I hadn't noticed how much she manipulated me into doing these things.\n\nThe way she looked at me with a big innocent smile, how she laughed as she walked through the field of dandelions. I watched the old whispers of forgotten and untold wishes drift past her, and I couldn't help but think of what creatures were crushed underneath her feet. The littlest of bugs, the tiniest springtails and ants in tandem with a scatter of butterfly wings that tried to escape the net; all tried to run from my daughter.\n\nAnd then there was me.\n\nThe most despised thing a bug could witness.\n\nIf a bug could dream, it could never fathom what I did to them.\n\nAn invisible prison was combined with a poison that quickly drifted into its book-lungs along with a frozen chamber, dark and cold to lull any being to eternal sleep. A gentle nudge into a foul tube full of what looked like water, or even worse, a crucifixion upon my walls.\n\nAnd I had many of them.\n\nSo many tiny bugs that were crucified, arms splayed to embrace the skies, to be watched and observed by unknown beings that couldn't be understood by even the simplest of minds.\n\nBut that was just my job.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " One way to improve your prose would be to focus on your sentence structure. In this story, many of the sentences are choppy and could be combined to create longer, more flowing sentences. For example, the first sentence could be combined with the second sentence: \"I hadn't noticed how much she manipulated me into doing these things until I saw the way she looked at me.\" This would create a smoother, more flowing sentence.\n\nAnother way to improve your prose would be to focus on your use of adjectives and adverbs. In this story, there are several instances where you could choose a more specific or interesting adjective or adverb. For example, instead of saying \"the old whispers of forgotten and untold wishes\", you could say \"the ancient whispers of forgotten and untold wishes\". This would add more depth and interest to your writing."}
{"prompt": "\"Sharpen your blades, gentlemen.\"\n\nCommander Dovken paced the tube past the bunks, hitting at the railings with his old policeman's baton. \"We've got us a bogey,\" he shouted.\n\nLieutenant Dennis stood at salute by the vending machine in the thoroughfare. In a brisk follow, said: \"We think it's a class A2, commander. One of the biggest in the sector.\"\n\nDovken held back a skip. \"You don't say,\" he mumbled through his moustache, broad smile on the up. Finally, he thought. An A2. After 11 godforsaken years in the shit, his very own Moby Dick. Lickety fucking split. He sped to a charge, caught his reflection in the metal sheen of the wall. \"Time to shine,\" he said.\n\n\"I'll try my best,\" said Dennis on the follow.\n\n\"Wasn't to you, idiot.\"\n\nThe bridge was a frenzy gone frozen as he entered, a dozen wide-eyed officers held breathless in wait for the order. \"What are we waiting for? To stations!\" yelled Dovken. \"And Johnson, fetch me a kipper.\"\n\n\"Right away, sir.\"\n\nNow at the radar: \"Keggles, where is she?\" \n\n\"A hundred knots past Bertha, commander.\"\n\nBertha was the second largest asteroid in the belt and the only nearby object that was bigger than their prize. Strategies rushed through Dovken's head to a flush. You bloody ripper, he smiled.\n\n\"Your kipper, commander,\" said Johnson, returned.\n\nThe unlit kippercigar to a corner chew, Dovken went to the captain's chair, his own since Captain Worr had succumbed to the fever. \n\n\"Raise us over the crest, Draymond.\"\n\n\"Roger that.\"\n\nThe turbine spun to a whir and the rudders went to the straight, and the vessel rose quick through the vacuum up the rocky curve to the near blinding across the way from the binary sun Sirius. \n\nThe SS Crabstick was a fine spacemarine, Dovken reckoned. Biggest of her class, quicker than a marlin-astral, with more firepower than a sundragon. Very fine indeed, he'd muttered, stroking the chair leather.\n\nCorporal Keggles jumped from his seat. \"It's coming right for us commander,\" he said in a panic.\n\n\"Torpedos on the ready, men. It's showtime,\" said Dovken. \"Johnson, the window tint. Can't see a bloody thing.\"\n\n\"Aye aye Captain.\"\n\n\"*Commander*.\"\n\n\"Commander!\"\n\nThe crew twisted on their chairs and edged forward for a better view. Dovken tried lighting his cigar, but it was too wet with saliva, and from his leftward toss it hit Doctor Robbins square in the ear.\n\nMovement ahead, the room went silent. Big shadow rose slow at Bertha's horizon, shape hard to make in front the sunlight blue. Then an eclipse: and it was a body, silhouette fuzzed at the edge, limbs on the towering rise, three red eyes centre the moon-sized head. \n\n\"I'll be damned,\" said Robbins, still wiping the spit from his cheek. \n\n*Jehovah* \n\nwhispered the awe-struck crew. \n\n\"Mother of God,\" gritted Dovken, squeezing the armrests as he pushed the chair back and forth in feverish elation. The men faced forward with skipping heartbeats, rapt, and it was only Dennis whom noticed Dovken's erection when he stood.\n\nJehovah brought down a gargantuan hand hard to the surface and from there a shockwave rippled over the ship, its full mass then exposed as it pulled itself up, four-armed, three-legged, to a several hundred kilometre stand, arms in a muscular flare, mein of lightning-hair brightening to a dazzle, its dangling front-tail dragging smooth a mountain-flattening mile-wide trail.\n\n\"Fire!\" said Dovken.\n\nStaggered torpedos stocked with devil-blood shot from the ship fast though the airless shadow, the creature bare able to pivot in time. Six landed fair the shoulder, which quick turned a burning green. A mortal wound. Jehovah swayed and clasped itself and then fell to its knees with an almighty thunder, eyes crying white with pain, its booming scream spread deafening and cosmic. \n\nThe crew erupted in cheer. Dovken, beside himself, turned away with a fist-pump.\n\n\"Johnson, fetch me another kipper,\" he said. \"This time, a real one.\"\n\n\"The fish, sir?\"\n\n\"That's right, the fish. Make sure it's smoked. We've got celebrating to do.\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of your story is very strong, with great tension and immediacy. I like the way you introduce the commander and the lieutenant and set up the conflict. However, there are a few areas where you can tighten up your writing. For example, you might want to revise the sentence \"After 11 godforsaken years in the shit, his very own Moby Dick.\" to something like \"After 11 years in the shit, he finally had his chance to catch his very own Moby Dick.\" This will make your writing more concise and easier to read.\n\nYou also have a few typos in your story, such as \"Lickety fucking split\" and \"You bloody ripper.\" I suggest proofreading your story carefully before you submit it for publication.\n\nOverall, this is a great story with a lot of potential. I look forward to reading more of your work!"}
{"prompt": "1/2\n\nHumans have remained, because we are unique. Humans are unique, because we have known the gods - perhaps, not all of them, but enough of them to know the game that the gods play: the lies that they spin; the devotions that they require; the cruelty that they inflict.\n\nAll other sentience emerged without regard for the ephemeral, the ethereal. Every other star-faring species had no inclination to faith or spiritualism. Logic. Mathematics. Curiosity. Critical thinking. Self-reflection. These were the repeated and unvarying paths taken to the stars by every species since the dawn of space/time.\n\nThe gods could not bare to be ignored and worse. They could not bare that they had not even been imagined or considered. They could not suffer the silence of the only other sentient things in the universe other than themselves.\n\nSo they struck out. Like any other jealous, neglected, isolated creatures, they acted violently and extremely. They took their vengeance on anything that dared to rise from the muck and reach for the stars with inexplicable occurrences.  \"Miracles,\" humans would call them; but the other mortal minds of the universe lacked not just the word, but the concept.\n\nFrustratingly, however, these miracles became less and less effective. With each extermination, the next species would find the relics of those that had come before them. They would rationalize, engineer, and improve. They would explain the things that had doomed their predecessors and move forward. This erosion of godly power eroded slowly, over billions of years, but constantly and irreversibly. When the last miracle had been spent, only humans remained.\n\nWell, not the last miracle. Humans were new and naive, easily impressed. Tribal and jealous, just like the gods. Susceptible to superstition and prone to the inexplicable. And those were the gravest mistake the gods ever made: making their possible existence needs known.\n\nAnd, so, humanity laid waste to the Enemy by looking at them, collapsing their wave-forms into elementary, predictable, measurable, controllable things. Not all the gods died, but many did, most - if that can mean anything - did.  The rest simply went away.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " 1. Your story has an interesting premise, and I like the way you explore religious themes.\n\n2. However, I found the prose to be somewhat dense and difficult to follow in places. I would recommend streamlining your language and sentence structure to make your story more accessible to readers.\n\n3. I also felt that the ending was a bit abrupt and unsatisfying. You may want to consider expanding on the climax of the story and tying up loose ends more neatly."}
{"prompt": "We expected to find very little in the first few systems, what we didn\u2019t expect was the desolated planets and husks of cities left behind. At first, we believed we had just found the unlucky few, planets that had over industrialised, or simply exhausted their resources. Soon it became clear that this wasn\u2019t the case. \n  \nIt started on Gamma-2-9, believing it to be disrespectful to search the remains of civilisations we had passed by early planets once they were discovered to be barren of life. But eventually we had to investigate, too many planets were empty, or rather what we later found to be the truth: purged. \n  \nOn Gamma my team and I entered what seemed to be a research facility of sorts. We couldn\u2019t make much of what we found until we hit the central control room. Somehow the power still worked, and when we turned things on, a single word appeared on every screen in the room: Run.\n  \nBy the time we made it back to our ship, the first few had fallen to the madness. A voice spoke to them and bid them complete dreadful tasks, or so they claimed. After the first few deaths, we fled the system, believing it to be a technology we had yet to encounter. How wrong we were.\n  \nEach crew member that was corrupted, no\u2026 converted, had to be executed. There seemed to be no way of freeing them from the influential entities. Not every system had one of these so called \u2018gods\u2019, but the ones that did were added to an increasingly long list of off-limits systems.\n  \nThe search goes on, but we don\u2019t know when, or if, well ever find a safe place to call home.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening paragraph of your story is very strong, it immediately draws the reader in and creates a sense of mystery. The second paragraph is also good, it raises more questions and creates a sense of unease. I like the way you have started this story.\n\nHowever, I feel that the third and fourth paragraphs could be stronger. In the third paragraph, you introduce the idea of the \"gods\" but you don't really explain what they are or why they are important. In the fourth paragraph, you introduce the idea of the crew members being \"converted\" but again, you don't really explain what this means.\n\nI think it would be helpful to explain these concepts in more detail, so that the reader can understand the story better. For example, you could explain what the \"gods\" are and why they are influencing the crew members. You could also explain what the crew members are being converted into, and why this is a problem.\n\nOverall, I think this is a very strong start to a story. I am intrigued to find out more about the \"gods\" and the crew members, and I look forward to reading more of your work."}
{"prompt": "\"One day, humans said \"You know what would be cool? Making that \"God is dead and we killed him\" joke a reality.\", and everyone agreed.\n\n\nThus starting the fifteenth intergalactic war. The humans tend to do this thing called \"murdering everything that ain't them\", starting with their own planet and working outwards. Everytime a war started, it was the humans with \"You know what would be ____?\", insert something about killing something, and then said thing goes to war with the humans, and the humans somehow fucking win. \n\n\nSo, this time, their targets are literal gods. This is the third time they've fought immortal beings. What crackhead being thought that they should allow them to do this? Which imbecile who's supposed to be the defender of everyone else let a child who probably doesn't even understand how to play that cosmic game of chess play for them? Did a really good chess player from earth win in every chess match they've ever played against other beings much higher than the lowly humans?\n\n\nWhatever, point is, the gods are dead, and we're next. What the fuck do we do?\"\n\n\n\"... Are you stupid? We ARE humans. They aren't going to target us. Even if they did, they'd certainly be surprised to see one of their own out here. We'll just explain everything calmly. Hopefully they'll believe us... Oh, you're dead. That's unfortunate. Anyways, hi, hello, I'm human too. Wonderful to meet you... Oh um... You seem to have um... Accidentally stabbed me. You shouldn't be swinging that absentmindedly.\n\n\nWhat do the mean \"I'm not human\"? I'm a human! What do you mean that would be a fatal wound and this place doesn't have oxygen. This place is filled with oxygen. You know, you're being rather rude to me right now, and you killed my traveling companion. How are you going to compensate me?\n\n\nYou won't? Well fuck you too! See how you like getting stabbed! See, not so nice, is it, now? Get fucked you little prick. You're not even 5'4.\"\n\n\n(And I ran out of ideas)\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of your story is intriguing and sets up the reader for an exciting tale. However, the story quickly loses momentum and becomes confusing. It is difficult to follow the plot and the characters seem one-dimensional. In addition, the ending is abrupt and unsatisfying.\n\nThere are some bright spots in your story, however. The descriptions of the intergalactic war are well done and add a sense of scale to the story. In addition, the idea of humans fighting gods is original and creates a sense of suspense.\n\nOverall, there is room for improvement in this story. With some additional editing and development, it has the potential to be a great short story."}
{"prompt": "Six months ago the mutant, Ransik, began attacking the city of Silverhills with his army of mutant criminals and robots. The city was now always a little tense, never knowing when the next mutant would show its face and try to attack someone seemingly at random, or just cause chaos for no apparent reason. \n\nDr Michael Zaskin, a middle aged man with dark brown hair was head researcher at the company called Bio-lab. He was the one responsible for all the research done on the remains of the robots, the blasters they carried and on the one morpher they had access to. All the technology was beyond anything he'd seen before, beyond anything he'd ever been allowed to study after the alien attacks in Angel Grove. The morpher was sitting on the table in front of him, it's owner, a very serious Asian man with dark hair watched him work like a hawk stalking its prey. He never took his eyes off the red and black device. Dr Zaskin marveled at the device, poking and prodding at it with various instruments. The readings were off the charts, but unless Commander Myers activated it himself, it remained inactive. When activated, it instantly gave the wearer red and black armour, weapons and even a giant mech in the shape of a dinosaur to help keep the city safe. He stood in order to grab another device when the sound he dreaded hearing blared from a speaker above his head. The attack alarm. Commander Myers grabbed his morpher and was gone in an instant. Dr Zaskin walked over to the window overlooking the city streets, he saw the Asian man sprinting off into the distance, towards some unknown threat. He looked beyond and tried to see through the concrete jungle of office blocks and saw nothing. The sun was shining brightly, the leaves of a few trees were blowing in the light breeze that came up from the ocean. The alarm went off and it was all silent again, apart from the ringing in his ears. He went back to his desk and sat back down in the black high backed computer chair. He looked at the readings in front of him and shook his head. Nothing made sense. The morpher came out of an archaeological dig in a layer of sediment from 65 million years ago. The device was millions of years old and yet, the technology was so advanced he was struggling to understand any of it. \n\nHe pushed his keyboard back in frustration then looked down at the piece of paper under it. A currently unsolved equation was scribbled on it with a bunch of his own markings. He picked up his pen and after a few minutes wrote some more on the page, it was like a flip had switched inside his brain and the answer was suddenly there in front of him. \n\n\"Dr Michael Zaskin?\"\n\nThe doctor jumped around so quickly he nearly toppled out of his chair. In the doorway was a man dressed in what looked like a black uniform, but what stunned him the most was that it was his bosses son, Wesley Collins, but it wasn't him, it just looked like him. The man in front of him felt wrong somehow, he didn't stand right, his expression was wrong, he talked with an odd accent. His hair was a darker brown and slicked back with gel.\n\n\"Yes?\" He answered as the man repeated the question. \n\n\"My name is Alex Drake, I'm with the temporal devision of Time Force. I'm here to prevent history from being altered. This equation isn't supposed to be solved for 200 years.\" \n\nDr Zaskin stared at the man. Time Force wasn't a new term to him, that's what the Power Rangers fighting the mutants called themselves. Talking as if time travel was a reality, not just a concept, that made his curiosity peak. He had so many questions but as he opened his mouth, the man in black put his hand up to stop him.\n\n\"You can either forget this and move on, or,\" He moved his long coat and showed off a white blaster, just like what the main team of Rangers used.\n\nThe doctor hadn't studied them, but he knew they were capable of killing a human with ease. He gulped, \"I'll forget, I won't use it,\" he promised and handed the paper to the man, his hands shaking a little. \n\nThe man stood silently, his face blank. He took the paper and put it into an inside pocket before he nodded slightly and left the room without another word. \n\nThe doctor collapsed to the floor and hugged himself, heart pounding, wondering what had just happened. That man, who looked like Wesley but wasn't, he was from the future, at least 200 years, probably further. His mouth fell open. The mutants, the tech he'd been trying to understand, it was all from the future, that's why it was beyond his knowledge. He began to laugh, time travel, it was possible!\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has potential, but there are definitely areas that could use improvement. For example, your description of the city could be more evocative and sensory-rich. Instead of simply saying \"The city was now always a little tense, never knowing when the next mutant would show its face and try to attack someone seemingly at random, or just cause chaos for no apparent reason,\" you could describe the city in more detail, making it come alive for the reader. What does the city smell like? What do the streets look like? Are there any particular landmarks that stand out?\n\nIn addition, your dialogue could be more natural and flowing. For example, the exchange between Dr. Zaskin and the man who claims to be from the future could be more realistic. Instead of having the man simply say \"You can either forget this and move on, or,\" he could say something like, \"Look, you can either forget about this and move on, or you can come with me and learn more. But if you stay here, you're just going to put yourself in danger.\" This would make the dialogue more believable and would also help to further the plot.\n\nOverall, your story has potential, but it needs more development in order to be truly engaging. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "I've been staring at the whiteboard for months.  It made sense but, it didn't.  I looked at the equation, the equation accepted by everyone on the planet but, it looked, askew.  Twisted.  Wrong.  It looked like those whiteboards you see in movies and TV shows but this one had pictographs.  Apples.  Apples everywhere.  The accepted answer of 4 was considered \"the answer\".  2 apples, combined with 2 apples, is 4 apples.  What if...\n\nI got up and wiped the 4 off.  I picked up the temporary marker and wrote 7.  What if 2 plus 2 was actually 7.\n\nThe marker squeaks as I finish the downstroke.  Then a loud swoosh sound behind me.  I quickly turn around and a dark figure walks through the door.  \"Mr. Corn I presume?\" he says in a raspy but squeaky voice.  \"It's been thousands of years, since the Egyptians, but no one is supposed to possess this knowledge\", he continues.  I couldn't make out who this figure was or, hell, what it was, but it had a faint familiarity with it.\n\nI quickly reached for the flashlight but it hits the wall and the dark figure chases after it.  I move it again and the figure runs after it again.  It was, i don't know, chasing it.  \"Who are you?  What... what are you?\".  \"I am the buffer between the knowledge you seek, the knowledge you just uncovered, and a tear in reality\" as it removed its hood, I saw a white nose, brown face, fur, pointed ears.  I murmured the words \"Who... what are you?\".  Now fully exposed, it replied \"They call me... Mr. Cheeks\".\n\n\"A FUCKING HAMSTER!?  What does this have to do with a tear in fucking reality?  Kids get math wrong all the time and put 2 plus 2 is 7.  Do you VISIT ALL OF THEM!?\".  It turned, \"You figured it out, but, you're still blind.  You can't get off the exercise wheel that is societal norms yet.  You see it though, don't you.  The unwritten numbers.  Maybe you don't see them but, you feel them.\"  I walked to the couch, \"I must have slipped and hit my head.  None of this makes sense\".  \"YES!\", Mr. Cheeks exclaimed \"None of it makes sense.  No one takes apples.  No one takes oranges.  When you do subtraction, you're not giving Stacy 4 apples, you're giving her, nothing\".  \n\nAs the word \"nothing\" came out of his mouth in that high squeaky voice, my surroundings started to fade.  The desk, the lamp, the couch I was just on, all dematerializing.  He looked at me again with a smile, \"It's always... about the apples\".\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The first thing I noticed about this story is its unique premise. The idea of exploring math and reality through the lens of a character uncovering a conspiracy is fascinating. With that said, there are a few areas where the story could be improved.\n\nFirst, the dialogue between the protagonist and Mr. Cheeks feels stilted and unnatural. The back-and-forth feels forced, and the exchanges don't seem to flow smoothly. I would recommend rewriting the dialogue to make it sound more natural and believable.\n\nSecond, the story feels a bit rushed, as if the author is trying to cram too much information into a short space. This can be a difficult balance to strike, but it's important to make sure that the story feels complete and satisfying. In this case, I would recommend slowing down the pace a bit and allowing the reader to linger in the world and experience the full implications of the protagonist's discoveries.\n\nOverall, this is a promising start to a unique and intriguing story. With a few tweaks, it could be even better."}
{"prompt": "\"Man It can't be hard...\" said Errod Dankowski, as he went upstairs for another cup of coffee.\n\n\"I just checked their site, and these problems look typical, just with a bunch of extra symbols reserved for someone with a degree.\"\n\nAt this point the coffee filter was empty. He knew it would be easy to solve the P=NP problem by simply refilling it.\n\nIf a filter needed N points, and a coffee ground cannister had N points, then there would be N points to refill it. Take from the cannister, and the filter was receiving from something that existed outside itself.\n\n\"Well that was easy.\" he thought, having solved the problem in about 30 minutes, plus a few hours turning it into a program.\n\n\"All I had to do was draw from infinity.\"\n\nHe wrote a letter, and signed it 'E'. It would take the university years to learn about his discovery.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has potential, but there are some areas that could be improved. For example, your dialogue could be more realistic and natural. In the first sentence, Errod's dialogue sounds like something a person would actually say. However, in the second sentence, his dialogue feels stiff and unnatural. It sounds like he's giving a lecture, rather than having a conversation. Try to make your dialogue sound more like how people actually speak to each other.\n\nAnother area that could be improved is your description. In the second paragraph, you give a brief description of the P=NP problem. However, this description is too technical and difficult to understand. Try to make your description more accessible to the average reader.\n\nOverall, your story has potential. With some revision, it could be quite good."}
{"prompt": "\u201cI can\u2019t fathom it. He has really been enjoying these last few weeks as my thrall.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cJust give him more grueling work. He won\u2019t be so happy then,\u201d replied Quelistiliptinastia (I just call them Quel, Fae names are notoriously long and complex so no one can ever remember or pronounce them)\n  \n\n  \nI shook my head, \u201cI don\u2019t think so, the worse the work the happier he seems.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cThere has to be a limit to that facade,\u201d Quel responded.\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI don\u2019t think it\u2019s a facade..\u201d my very long Fae brows furrowed in thought (they\u2019re actually longer than most Fae, I have to tuck the ends behind my pointy ears, it was a topic of bullying since I was a child. Fae also make great bullies, unsurprisingly).\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI can\u2019t fathom why a human might enjoy servitude. Hasn\u2019t that been the leading cause of rebellion for hundreds of mortal years?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cIt has, but this one\u2019s different.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cWell, most humans complain about wanting to go back to their love or their family or their friends, he hasn\u2019t.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cYou think he has any.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cIf there is there isn\u2019t any love there. I doubt anyone is even looking for him.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cDo I hear remorse in your voice, Felangelinialine? (Just call me Fel).\u201d\n  \n\n  \nI huffed, \u201cNo, he is a human. We have no remorse for mortals.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cGood, they are sources of our amusement, nothing more.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nI shivered, it seemed so callous. Though Quel, in all fairness, was perhaps the most hedonistic Fae I knew. He mostly uses his thralls to get him wine and carry him to bed after he passes out from too much wine. \u201cAnd sources of your wine.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cAnd that. This is your first thrall, yes.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cWell, I had Gwen before.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cGwen doesn\u2019t count.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cWhy not?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cShe spend three days wailing and afterward you gave in and sent her back.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI couldn\u2019t just do nothing about it, she missed her family. I didn\u2019t know it would cause such a problem!\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cYou\u2019re hopeless.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cYou\u2019re heartless.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cThen it looks like I\u2019m better off than you. You do feel remorse for them, don\u2019t you?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cWhat does it matter?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cIt matters. We have a reputation to uphold. We aren\u2019t caretakers, we\u2019re Fae.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cThe terms aren\u2019t mutually exclusive.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cThe others won\u2019t like this.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI\u2019ll be better about it.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cThen you\u2019ll give your thrall more grueling work?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cYes.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cGood. I\u2019m much too sober right now, I have to find some wine. Good day, Fel.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nI sighed and headed back to my thrall. He turned to me and smiled. Smiled! The nerve of that human. I raised my very long eyebrow, \u201cI am perplexed by you, do you really like being a thrall.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nHe nodded, \u201cIndeed! Never been better! Do all Fae have eyebrows as long as yours?\u201d\n  \n\n  \nI glared at him, \u201cDon\u2019t you dare insult my eyebrows you\u2026\u201d\n  \n\n  \nHe yelped, \u201cS..sorry. I wasn\u2019t insulting, they\u2019re nice.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cYou don\u2019t think they\u2019re freakishly long?\u201d\n  \n\n  \nHe chuckled, \u201cWho told you that? Do you need me to beat someone up?\u201d\n  \n\n  \nI giggled, \u201cThat\u2019s cute.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cWhat?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cThat you think you stand a chance against a Fae.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI w..well..\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI\u2019m sure you\u2019re a fine fighter against other humans, but it\u2019s just an entirely different playing field for Fae.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI understand. Do you have more tasks for me?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cYes actually.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cWhat is it? Do you want me to feed the Flutterpillars, or clean the Warpsnarps?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cNone of that, I want you to tell me about yourself.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cBut in all the rumors about Fae, they always asked their thralls to do things for them.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nI smiled, \u201cWell, let\u2019s change that.\u201d\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential! I love the idea of exploring the relationship between a Fae and their human thrall. I think you did a great job of showing the contrast between the two characters.\n\nHowever, there are a few areas that could use some improvement. First, I think you could work on your dialogue. It feels a little stilted and unnatural in places. Second, I think you could add a bit more description to your setting and characters. Right now, the story feels a little sparse in terms of description.\n\nOverall, I think you have a lot of potential as a writer! I would encourage you to keep writing and exploring your creativity."}
{"prompt": "When Chale called Robert back, she was pleased. Already he had gotten rid of every last spider in the forest. Now she could rest easy. \"You have done well, Robert. I do believe this calls for a reward.\" Smiling, she took him to her bedroom, wanting to savor what would happen. \"Now, get on the bed.\" Robert, however, calmly turned towards her, calmly saying \"No.\"\n\n\"Robert, it isn't what you think it is, it's only cuddling...\" She decided to backtrack, hoping to persuade him. Perhaps her powers didn't extend that far. Even still, the man shook his head. \"I am no longer required to follow your orders. The demons gave me new commands as well as your name, Chale.\" She was horrified. For such a man to willingly cooperate with demons...\n\nAs she tried running out of her house, she was greeted with the sight of spiders, all facing her. The pattern they were in formed a barrier glyph, sealing her inside. Yet soon that was no more than a precaution as with a flick of his wrist, he shut the door and locked it. As she stood there quivering, with her back to the door, she saw a figure begin to step from the shadows. It had four, no, six arms, white hair, and bright red irises, both filled with the intent to hunt. As it stood to its full height, Robert smiled and spoke a single command.\n\n\"Sic 'em, Anthony.\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The beginning of your story is very promising, I like the way you establish the setting and introduce the characters. However, the dialogue feels a bit stilted and unnatural. I would recommend working on that.\n\nThe plot takes an interesting turn when Robert refuses Chale's advances. I like the suspense you create here.\n\nThe ending is very shocking and gruesome. I think you did a good job of creating a sense of horror."}
{"prompt": "Darius sat sullenly while Asana paced the cell in which they were locked. She had been fuming for the better part of an hour and he a relatively sure that she would be up for talking soon.\n\n\"What were they thinking!\" Asana yelled suddenly. \n\nDarius kept his voice low. \"Technically we did disobey the law.\"\n\n\"That's stupid and you know it! Almost every city has laws against bringing in weapons, but you and I always have something tucked away for just this scenario. We're mercenaries, godsdammit!\"\n\nDarius held up his hands in acquiescence. Looking at them now, his scarred, calloused hands did feel empty without a broadsword or hand axe. \"I guess they take it more seriously here.\"\n\n\"More seriously than a dragon attack?\" Asana immediately stopped pacing and dropped on the bench next to Darius. \"I got in a good hit with my dagger, but its likely he'll recover from the wound. We should have taken chase, but the guards decided to lock us up and let a monster go loose.\"\n\n\"It'll be fine, Asana. There'll be a fine, we'll get slapped on the wrists, we'll make back the money, and next time a dragon tries to burn down this town, we can ignore it.\"\n\nAsana laughed and laid her head on Darius' shoulder. \"You're right. I'm glad *you* have a cool head at least.\"\n\nSuddenly a sound in the prison put them both on alert. They stood and met the guards at the iron-barred door. The leader of the company was a grim-faced man who stared daggers at the two mercenaries.\n\n\"The Mayor wishes to see you,\" he uttered through clenched teeth.\n\n\"Really?\" Darius asked. \"What does he have to do with this?\"\n\n\"Listen, outlander!\" the guard barked back. \"Be grateful I'm not taking you to the gallows. It took this long for us to decide not charge you for murder!\"\n\n\"Murder!\" Asana yelled. It started the other guards enough to make them raise their weapons. Darius laid a hand on her shoulder and raised another in surrender.\n\n\"Take us to him.\"\n\n&amp;#x200B;\n\nIt was a short walk to the Mayor's Grand Hall. The torches were out in half of the enclosure, leaving the area behind the Mayor's chair in darkness. The mayor was a middle-aged man with greying hair, a comfortable paunch over his belt, and a sour expression. Darius was beginning to think it was the city's customary expression.\n\n\"Have they been searched for weapons?\" The mayor asked in a stern, but tired voice.\n\n\"Yes sire.\" The guard replied. \"Before and after they were imprisoned.\"\n\n\"Very well. You can leave us.\"\n\nSoon, Darius and Asana were alone with the mayor. He stood and approached them. \n\n\"My name is Jairus, and I am the mayor of this fine city. I take it you think our town is a bit odd.\"\n\n\"Odd!\" Asana exclaimed. Darius attempted to intervene, but she said, \"Not now! We try to take down a dragon that descended in the middle of the market, and you arrest us for having an emergency weapon ready? And the guard claims that we could have been charged for murder? I think that is a bit more than odd!\"\n\nJairus' lips drew into a thin line. \"May I ask you, young lady, what harm the dragon offered you?\"\n\nAsana blinked. \"I-it's a dragon!\"\n\n\"And?\"\n\nDarius stepped forward. \"I believe what she is trying to express is that dragon's are generally seem as a hazard to peaceful folk. It's what dragons do. We tend to hire ourselves out as protectors, and we thought that it would be best to strike preemptively to keep as many safe as possible.\"\n\n\"So talking was out of the question for this encounter?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry?\"\n\nThe mayor became more animated, \"You decided to attack without first trying any form of diplomacy. Now I have a mess to clean in the markets and my daughter's husband is being treated for mortal wounds!\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, was he harmed by the dragon?\"\n\n\"No,\" Came a voice from behind the mayor. The voice was resonant and laced with growls. From the direction of the voice came a glob of fire that ignited a ring of torches. \"He *was* the dragon.\"\n\nThe green-scaled beast was sprawled behind the mayor's chair and a portion of its hindquarters where Asana had thrown the was layered with red-stained bandages. Darius and Asana stood agape, but the side door to the hall was opened before they could respond. A young woman ran in and wrapped her arms around the dragon.\n\n\"Nax! Are you well? I told the maids to keep the lights down!\"\n\n\"Lise, you coddle me like a wingless drake. I am well enough; no thanks to you two.\" The dragon shot a glare at the mercenaries.\n\n\"He's proud, but he will survive the wound,\" Jairus explained to Darius. \"We were forced to imprison you until we addressed the severity of the wound. Had he been killed outright, I would have needed to exile you at the very least. Tarrinax has become the very soul of our little city.\"\n\nAsana was still staring with wide eyes, so Darius said, \"I don't understand, sir.\"\n\n\"I was like you once, but my daughter showed me that not all beasts are beastly, if you see what I mean. When I was younger, I could not have imagined my daughter marrying a flying lizard, but now I cannot imagine life without him.\"\n\nSuddenly, Asana stepped forward. Her hands were still bound behind her, but she strode directly in front of Tarrinax. The great dragon tensed and began to extend his wings at the protestations of the young lady, but he stopped when Asana knelt before him.\n\n\"Great, and gentle Tarrinax,\" She said with her eyes toward the floor. \"I am sorry for having harmed you. I was in error and I make no excuse for myself. Will you ever forgive me?\"\n\n\"Of course,\" Tarrinax rumbled. He stretched his neck forward and pressed his snout against her head. \"That's what dragons do.\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The beginning of your story sets up the conflict nicely. I like the dialogue between Darius and Asana, it sounds natural and gives us a good sense of their characters. However, the story feels a bit rushed after they are taken to see the mayor. We don't get much description of the mayor or the dragon, and the resolution feels very abrupt.\n\nIt would be helpful to slow down the pace a bit and give us more description, especially of the dragon. What does he look like? How does he act? Why is he the soul of the city? Answering these questions would help to make the story more enjoyable for readers."}
{"prompt": "Jack and Lana got out of the van and headed into the local grocery store hand in hand.  Dave leaned over an asked his sister, \"How long do you think they are gonna take this time?  We're already three days behind schedule.\"  \"I don't know.  Maybe if they didn't stop to kiss every time no one was looking, they could actually get something done for once.\" His sister Maria responded while rolling her eyes.\n\nThirty-five minutes later Jack and Lana exited the store while talking with an attractive couple.  The four headed to the car where Lana excitedly introduced her cousins Dave and Maria to the couple. \n\nThe man's name was Darryl and his wife's name was Suzanne, and surprisingly she was the mayor's daughter.  \"So how did you two meet?\" Maria asked after about twenty minutes of conversation, starved as she was for someone other than her three care mates to talk to.\n\n\"Oh Darryl has been a friend of the family for generations, but when daddy found out about the two of us, he nearly blew his beard out what with all that yellin'.\" Suzanne said in a southern drawl.  The four looked at her quizzically, and Jack queried \"Generations?\" \n\n \"Thou shall have to forgive this one's dear mate, she amuses herself with adopting the unique accent of her cousins from the south.  As for the shouting young Mathew partook of at the time, twas mostly from fear of the age difference of this one and this one's mate.  This one still finds it humorous how mortals perceive time, as well as the assumption that this one would allow it's ravages to leave even the smallest of traces upon this one's mate's form.\"  Darryl spoke in a strange deep rumbling, yet lilting accent, \"Afterall this one has known young Mathew's kin ever since they settled upon this land seven generations ago and this one struck a bargain for this one's assistance in establishing this settlement.\" \n\nThe travelers just sat there not sure whether this was all some big joke or not.  Unsure of what to do, Lana asked, \"So, how did you convince your father? He is the mayor right?\"  \"Yep. Dad's the mayor big whoop. All I had to do was nag him, plus remind him it would be killing two birds with one stone and eventually after two years he caved.\" Suzanne said while seemingly pouting about getting sold out, she had dropped the southern drawl though. \n\n\"Ah, yes this one's mate refers to the barging struck some time ago with young Thaddeus.\" Darryl remarked.  \"What was the deal?\" Dave asked, finally having his interest peaked by this weird conversation. \n\n \"That the firstborn daughter of my great-great-great-great-grandfather's bloodline would seek his acknowledgement before finding a husband, and any potential 'mate' of hers would have to be approved by him.\" Suzanne smirked at this point, \"It just so happens that while attempting to gain his acknowledgement, I fell in love with him. So win-win in my opinion.\"\n\nMaria then redirected the conversation elsewhere for another twenty minutes, before Jack said, \"Well, it's getting late and we still have to check into the inn here in town for the night. So maybe we'll see you tomorrow before we leave. It was nice meeting you.\"\n\n\"Twas this one's pleasure to make your aquantince as well.  This on bids thee a good evening.\" Darryl said.\n\"Likewise.\" Suzanne commented.\n\"You too.\" Lana, Dave and Maria responded awkwardly.\n\n\"By the way, where's your car?\" Maria asked curiously. \n\"Why would we ever need one of those?\" Darryl asked in a normal voice.\nThe four of them just stared at him for a moment before Dave shrieked at what happened next.\n\nDarryl's skin changed to a deep black with an iridescent sheen as scales appeared on him, a pair of magnificent wings sprouted from his back as he increased in size to a length of about a hundred feet long.  He leaned his head right up in front of them and his wife climbed on to his back and grasped the spike in front of her.  \"No one will ever believe you.\" Darryl said as he stuck out his tongue while winking and then launched himself into the air, and flew away while laughing \"ahahahahahahaha.\"\n\n\n\n\nEpilougue \n\nThe four were silent all that night other than procuring accommodations at the inn. This silence carried all the way until they were leaving town the next morning. As Maria looked out the window at the sky she could have sworn she saw two dragons dancing the sky, a black one like the one they saw last night and one with a blue color that strangely reminded her of the outfit worn by Suzanne last night. After rounding a bend in the road she could no longer see them, but it made her wonder, just what did being a dragon's mate entail?\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story was very interesting and well-written. I particularly liked the ending, which left the reader wondering what could happen next.\n\nThere were a few areas that could be improved, however. For example, in the beginning, it was a bit difficult to follow who was talking. It might be helpful to include dialogue tags, such as \"Jack said,\" or \"Lana replied.\"\n\nIn addition, there were a few awkward phrases, such as \"while seemingly pouting about getting sold out.\" A simpler phrase would be better, such as \"seeming upset that she had been sold out.\"\n\nOverall, though, this was a very enjoyable story. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "It was fairly early on a Tuesday morning so I was in my usual spot of leaning on a broom just out of sight of the registers.  If Mr. Henley walked my direction it'd be easy enough to start pantomiming sweeping, but otherwise there was very little to do until the rush when people got off work at the quarry.  Until then it was either lean on a broom or count the cans of tomato soup again. There were still 37 of those by last count, so today I was leaning on the broom.\n\n\"Now, Our Shep,\" Henley spoke up from around the corner, \"What manner of contraption do ya kin that to be?\"\n\nMr. Henley is my boss and the owner of the only grocery store in town. The only, well, any store in town, in fact. The place was just called \"Store\" as it didn't need another name. If you needed gas, a wedding dress, or a frozen turkey there was only one place to get it. Much like how the post office didn't need its own name either.  As best we can tell, Mr. Henley is from right here in Ascalon which makes his eccentric patois all the more incomprehensible. Everyone is either an \"Our\" or \"His\" in his world. You are either \"Our David\" or \"His David.\" He's never clarified who this mythical male who seems to own half the town might be. But, using some internal logic that no one else can decipher, he wants everyone, even the person he is addressing, to know which David, Paul, or Shepherd - that's me by the way - he is talking about so we don't mix it up with that other guys.  Considering Henley has been set in his ways since roughly the time steam engines were considered the next big thing, we just stopped arguing with him about it.\n\nI made a big production of coming out of the aisle while sweeping and shot him a look like he was interrupting my diligence. I needn't have bothered. He only had eyes for the vehicle pulling up to the empty parking lot in front of Store. I took one look at the chrome finished RV with its myriad of antenna and his and her kayaks strapped to the roof and my heart fell.\n\n\"Oh no,\" I moaned, \"Glampers!\"\n\n\"Whazzat?\" Henley asked, \"Cankers?\" \n\nI didn't really feel a point in correcting him there. I didn't really have time as the doors flew open to reveal the L.L. Bean interior and a man and woman wearing brand new flannel shirts, designer vests, and designer hiking shoes never intended to touch dirt leaped out and started walking towards the door. This was bad.  This was very bad.\n\nThe only road that leads into or out of our little mountain town is Route No. 9.  According to my grandfather, they followed a snake while paving the road and had to stop once it broke it's back three times trying to make the turns. Grandpa, however, was prone to exaggeration so it was probably only two times. What I am trying to say is the road is narrow, winding, and follows a path of steep up and down hills that no sane person who had a choice would ever voluntarily follow if they didn't have to.  Due to our relative inaccessibility, Mr. Henley had yet to meet this bizarre species of moisturizing not so rough and tumble folks who wanted to bring a touch of the Marriott to the great outdoors. Steep learning curve on both sides coming up, I thought.\n\nThe bell tinkled as the man stepped inside first. He was tall, fit in a twice a week in the gym/spa sort of way, and handsome. Something about him just shouted he worked in a bank and lost other people's money for them in idiotic investments. The woman who followed him was short, blonde, and probably stored inside a glass case when he didn't take her out to impress his friends.  Mr. Henley watched both of them from the cash register and scowled. There was something about them he didn't like. I could tell without looking they were now His Yuppies.\n\n\"Good morning, sir,\" the stranger boomed as if he were talking to a particularly lifelike statue, \"Can you tell us where we are?\"\n\nHenley regarded them coldly for all of three seconds before replying.\n\n\"Well, young man,\" he said, drawing out each word like a razor across a barber's strop, \"This here is called a 'grocery store.'\"\n\nThe strange man blinked slowly. To me, the message couldn't be clearer if Mr. Henley had shoved them both out the door, pointed back to the highway, then locked the door and killed the lights.  You are not welcome here.  This, apparently, was a foreign concept to the man so  he, naturally, decided Mr. Henley must be the moron in this exchange and tried again.\n\n\"No,\" he said, \"I mean what's the name of the town? I can't find it on the GPS .\"\n\n\"Is that right?\" Mr. Henley replied.  He didn't volunteer anything else. From somewhere else in the store I heard another voice - also male but both much louder and deeper - announce, \"Look!  La Choy! It's like an entire supper in a can!\"\n\nUh oh.  I had forgotten Tuesdays were Dylan's shopping days. This was definitely bad news.\n\nI could only stare helplessly and around the corner came Dylan. All twelve feet of him.  He had to bend his serpentine neck almost double to keep his horned head from digging furrows in our ceiling.\n\nBehind Dylan I could just barely see the plump and smiling face of his wife pushing their shopping cart.  I was pretty sure I was the only one looking at her, though, as everyone else had eyes only for the two glampers or, in their case, the giant purple dragon with twin plumes of smole wafting from his nostrils.\n\n\"Morning, Dylan,\" Henley said without missing a beat, \"You find everything?\"\n\n\"Did I ever!\" the dragon boomed, \"I was just telling the missues about La Choy!\"\n\n\"Entire supper in a can, ain't she?\" Henley said with a knowing nod.  Dylan laughed at this and playfully gave a backhand nudge to his wife's arm. I could tell it was playful as her arm was still attached to her body.\n\n\"See?\" Dylan said, \"He knows!\"  \n\n(continue to Part 2 below)\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening paragraph is good. It sets the scene and introduces the reader to the protagonist. However, the second paragraph is confusing and difficult to follow. I suggest breaking it up into shorter, easier to digest sentences.\n\nThe third paragraph is better. It is clear and concise. However, the fourth paragraph is confusing. I suggest breaking it up into shorter sentences.\n\nThe fifth paragraph is good. It is clear and concise. However, the sixth paragraph is confusing. I suggest breaking it up into shorter sentences.\n\nIn general, I suggest breaking up your paragraphs into shorter, easier to read sentences. This will make your story easier to follow and more enjoyable to read."}
{"prompt": "I was 14 years old the first time I killed a man. He came to our village, squirrelled away in the mountains, looking to kill my father. The man he was hoping to find was long gone, what was left in his place was a frail, destitute thing that still clung on for dear life. To sup whatever droplets he could, at least a little longer. My father's legs didn\u2019t work right and he\u2019d crawl around our hut peering out the bottoms of the shutters. He spotted the man early and told me what I\u2019d have to do. When the man had my father at the end of his sword I came up behind him and bludgeoned him to death with a rock. I never saw his face, even when I dragged his corpse off into the woods to bury. All I remember is the wry smile on my father\u2019s face\u2026 like a peasant watching a king hanging from a rope.\n\nTwo years later, at the end of a bottle, my father told me who the man was. Fifteen years ago my father worked in the Regent\u2019s Guard. He was lower standing then, and was tasked with stopping a plague that came from the farming communities. So he was told. Rather than waste time trying to convince the peasants to confine themselves he simply executed them all.\n\nThe man I killed was a survivor.\n\n\u2018Funny, isn\u2019t it?\u2019 He laughed. Not only did he not kill them all, but he got the same bloody disease only a decade later. Turns out, not the farmers\u2019 fault. For some reason it\u2019d make him laugh and laugh. He\u2019d laugh so hard I thought he would die. Wished it.\n\nSo you see even from the start of all this, I knew there was a rot \u2014 in both of us.\n\nAfter he told me I left home. I took the man\u2019s armour. I even took his name \u2014 Aan \u2014 hoping to earn any karmic favour for him that I could.\n\nBut of course I should\u2019ve known.\n\nMy father\u2019s training set me apart from many others and I quickly gained the employ under a Duke. I thought I would be able to do any justice. Instead all we did was keep serfs in line, extract payments from merchants and craftsmen, and segregate the poor from any rightful discourse with their liege. The night we were told to burn a man\u2019s home down I could see myself standing in my father\u2019s shoes. I had had enough. It wasn\u2019t ever going to change. I left.\n\nEvery time I held a sword in my hand its blade etched only misery. So I wandered off into the woods. I drank until my brain was mush and drool leaked from my face. I found a shallow crevice lined with moss and toadstools, laid down, closed my eyes, and waited to die.\n\nThe howl of a beast ripped through the forest trees. Maybe I\u2019d get lucky and he\u2019d tear out my throat. It\u2019d be quicker. But then I heard the screams of people. I tried to stay down, I really did. But the adrenaline cleared my vision and I couldn\u2019t hear a damn thing over my fucking heart. Wasn\u2019t going to die like this. I got up and held my blade tight and followed the screams.\n\nI didn\u2019t know it then, but they called it the Blightwolf. It had been hunting and feeding on people for months. Funny I hadn\u2019t heard a word about it when I worked for the Duke. I just thought it was some mangey, overgrown wolf. I found it at the edge of the forest clawing away at some poor woman, and some soon to be victims nearby. Getting its attention was hard \u2014 I was still a little drunk \u2014 but once I put a dagger in its hind leg it got real attentive.\n\nIt was a blinding streak of fangs, claws, red eyes, and brown-yellow fur. I didn\u2019t have the movement I needed to dodge him effectively so all I could do was give him an armoured forearm and pray I\u2019d go through him faster than he went through me. It was close, let me tell you. Cutting out the bottom of a wolf gives you a fat great present of innards all over your favourite clothes and I swear I still catch its scent sometimes.\n\nAfter the Blightwolf slumped over the night caught up to me and I puked my guts out. Not because of the wolf \u2014 because of the drinking. I think.\n\nBut the people, they were still there. The woman, she was alright. Her arms were a bit torn up, but nothing critical. She came over and hugged me, really, through the guts \u2018n all.\n\nAan, this has to count, right? For the first time? \n\nSure feels like it counts.\n\nThey dragged me to their tiny little hut out in the farmlands. To call it a hut is the gravest of insults. The warmth in that place, and the food they shoved down my throat\u2026 no king nor duke could ever match. I tried to tell them not to waste it on me but they wouldn\u2019t hear a damn word. You see, them, and others are leaving. A pilgrimage away from this shithole of a kingdom. And there\u2019s a lot more than just the Blightwolf out there. Months of these beasts picking on anyone trying to cross the forests to the other kingdom. They could use someone like me.\n\nSometimes when I\u2019m laying in bed at night, I feel like I\u2019m in that shallow crevice in the forest. If ever I look in the mirror and see my father, I\u2019ll walk out there and finish the job. But that can wait. These people need help... and I might just be able to help them. And if I can\u2019t, well, the beasts\u2019ll do the job for me. And my bones\u2019ll end up in that grave all the same.\n\nI think, for now, I can keep walking. And maybe there\u2019s half a hope for me yet.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of your story is very strong. You give just enough backstory to provide context without bogging down the narrative. The use of sensory detail is also very effective in setting the scene. However, there are a few places where your grammar could be improved. For example, you use the word \"but\" at the beginning of a sentence when you should use \" however\". There are also a few places where you could use stronger verbs to add more impact to your writing.\n\nOverall, you have created a very atmospheric and engaging story. Well done."}
{"prompt": "\"Kill me.\"\n\nThe Minotaur smashed its club into the tiles, right where Mat had been standing a moment before. The stone splintered and flew across the room, sending onlookers scattering. Mat was now behind the Minotaur, the Sword of Dawn gleaming in his hand. A minotaur outside of its labyrinth was rare, but inside a city? Unreal. Times were getting hard. But monsters were constant. They had come after him, one after the other.\n\n\"Just kill me!\"\n\nThe Minotaur wound up, throwing the club like a javelin, aimed straight at Mat's head. No way he could dodge this. Out of reflex, he held the sword in front of him, the flat of the blade facing the beast. He had done this move many times before, against humans, harpies, and even the occasional manticore. Any projectile-based foe, really. The Sword of Dawn glowed the color of the shifting sky. When the club connected, though it was three times the size of the Mat, it stopped, its momentum turning to absolutely nothing. It shattered then, projectiles the size of human heads scattering in random directions, connecting with buildings. Mat's heart thrummed, and he felt his body vibrate down to its very core. This one was strong.\n\n\"Kill me, you dumb beast!\"\n\nThe Minotaur matched Mat's cry with a roar. It leaned down, horns pointed at Mat, clawed hands held out to the sides. Any of those sharp ends would instantly skewer Mat.\n\n\"Yes! Come on, do it!\"\n\nThe Minotaur charged, closing the gap in between the man and beast with frightening speed. Mat moved, flowing effortlessly to a defensive stance, in a position to parry whatever sharp end approached him. As the Minotaur came within reaching distance of him, he swung -\n\n\\- only to feel the blunt end of the Minotaur's hoof strike him directly in the gut. Mat went flying, colliding with a stone wall on the other end of the square. He felt something crack, and his vision filled with spots. A breath later, and a warmth filled him, the Sword of Dawn turning the color of the moon as it lingers in the morning. Bones shifted back into place, and Mat groaned. He stood up. That hadn't happened in... ever. Since the first monster, maybe.\n\n\"That wasn't enough! Kill me, please!\"\n\nThe Minotaur stood for a second, its bovine face allowing for the briefest expression of what Mat thought was shock. Whatever. It was now Mat's turn to close the gap. With speed matching that of the Minotaur's, he ran in, the Sword of Dawn slicing upwards. The minotaur brought its hard claws and muscular arms to block it, but there was no resistance. The arms fell away immediately, severed totally. Whatever townsfolk were still remaining cheered.\n\n\"Not good enough. Not good enough to end me.\"\n\nMat didn't shout this time, as he methodically sliced the legs and horns of the Minotaur, now a bleeding torso in the middle of the town square. He stepped onto its massive chest, the Sword of Dawn pointed at its throat. It rasped, dark eyes staring at Mat's tired face.\n\n\"I am... sorry... Mat. I... I tried. I will... see you, when the -\"\n\nThe sword cut through Gavyn the Minotaur's neck. The Sword of Dawn pulsed a blood-like red. The brightness, the vitality, the weight of the beast in front of Mat began to wither away. As it did, the sword pulsed brighter and faster.\n\nRight after the kill. That's when the sword gave him enough control to move. As the townsfolk chanted his name, lifted him up, hugged him, cried for him. As the world grew to love him more. Mat could only sit in mute silence. All of the time to resist, and he did nothing. Not even a 'kill me.\"\n\nThey had come after him, one after the other. His friends. Gavyn had been the strongest. The sword knew this, and it thrummed with a greedy joy. Not many monsters left now. It would kill them all, and relish the ones that Mat had grown with the most. It would kill them all.\n\n&amp;#x200B;\n\nAnd after that, who knows?\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are a few areas that could use some work. First, your descriptions could be more vivid. For example, when the Minotaur smashes its club into the tiles, you could describe the sound it makes, or the look on its face. Additionally, you could describe the setting in more detail, so that readers can picture the scene more clearly.\n\nSecond, your dialogue could be more natural. In particular, the dialogue between Mat and the Minotaur feels stiff and unnatural. You could try to make it more conversational, so that it sounds like two people (or a person and a beast) talking to each other.\n\nOverall, your story is intriguing and has a lot of potential. With some more work on your descriptions and dialogue, it could be even better."}
{"prompt": "\"Here's to our new hero! Where he comes from we don't know! But he slew our greatest foe!\" Cheered the young man standing atop a long table in the tavern with a raised flagon of ale.\n\nEveryone else in the packed tavern raised their flagons as well all roaring an exuberant hurrah before swigging down their ale. It was a jovial festive atmosphere. The warmly lit wooden inn was alive with song and dance. Merriment filled the air as the townsfolk celebrated with one another at the slaying of their horrible monster. Sitting at the end of the tavern atop a wood carved throne adorned in floral leys and other decorative pieces, the triumphant hero sits unenthused. With his head resting on his hand, the festivities before him were of no interest to him, neither were the droves of townsfolk at his feet drowning him in their thanks and praises. Their tributes of treasures in gratitude did not phase the hero, neither did the pleads from the townswomen to spend the night with him. The hero said no words, he merely lightly shooed them away back to their celebration. Finally one of the townsman corralled the crowd away from the hero, insisting on letting him have his rest. Surely enough they disappeared back into the crowd, leaving the hero ignored on the throne. Several minutes passed before the hero simply got up form his seat and slunk out the back door, leaving behind the riches and wenches.\n\nThe muffled sound of music and shouts faintly make it to the ears of our hero whom sits alone by the great lake near the tavern. Sitting in the mud, listening to the small waves gently lapping on the shore, the full moon reflecting off the undulating water. With the entire town in the tavern, the crestfallen hero languished in his solitude; until he heard an old scratchy voice behind him.\n\n\"A masked hero!\" The old voice creaked.\n\nThe hero barely reacting, slowly turning his head to make eye contact with a withered hunchback old man wrapped in a cowl.\n\n\"You see my eyes old man, I have no mask. Are you blind?\" The hero curtly asked.\n\n\"Oh no, son. In fact, I see better then most. In fact, I am the only one who sees the mask; and what is beyond the mask.\" The strange old man said in a wise tone.\n\n\"You speak in riddles? I care not to participate. I wear no mask. Now please, leave me be.\" The hero coldly replied turning his gaze back towards the river.\n\n\"Denial will get you nowhere masked hero. I see the mask you wear that no one else sees. I know this because I have been following your exploits, Iestyn\" The old man revealingly said\n\nThe hero perked up, he had not told his name to anyone for a long time. He stood up and drew his sword pointing it at the old man who did no flinch. Iestyn demanded to know the old man's identity.\n\n\"Oh brave hero, you were in my village many many months ago. You saved us all from the great bog monster without anyone having to ask. The way you threw yourself at it with such recklessness, with such a lack of concern for your own well being had me curious. So I followed you in the shadows. I followed your distinct pattern. Every monster you fight is stronger than the last. Every vengeful spirit you vanquish makes you more chaotic. It is as if  you almost hope that the next fight will be your last.\" The old man concernedly croaked.\n\nIestyn's sword slowly lowered, sensing no threat from the crone.\n\n\"I see the mask you wear and I see through it. You wore it when you came into this town with your gallantry. You donned a new one when you accepted the thanks and the gold of the townsfolk. You took it off when you came here, but quickly put it back on when you heard my voice.\" The old man's smugness replaced with sincerity.\n\nThe tip of Iestyn's sword was now stuck in the dirt. Iestyn dropped it, letting it land with a thud. His face grimaced, his eyes welling with tears, he averted his gaze towards the ground to avoid the old man's gaze.\n\n\"You know nothing of me, old man.\" Iestyn sniveled.\n\n\"I don't know your history. I don't know your story. But I know what I see in front of me. I see pain. A type of pain not cured by salves or medicine. A pain that grows like a cancer within your being. A pain that you think will only end at death.\" The old man caringly says. He slowly approaches Iestyn who remains silent, the old man sees the tears rolling down his cheeks.\n\n\"I know that I can offer you your last fight.\" The old man whispered.\n\nIestyn perked up at the old man. He demanded to know more about this fight. The old man simply gestured for Iestyn to follow him, and the two made their way out of the town, leaving the fading sounds of the tavern behind them.\n\nThe pair make their way to the old man's camp, set up just on the outskirts of the town. Walking into the tent, Iestyn sits down on the ground, neglecting the many chairs around him. The old man rummages through his belongings, clattering sounds fill the tent as the old man searches. The cluttering stops, the old man slowly rises and turns to Iestyn, holding a potion in his hand. Iestyn asks what the potion is.\n\n\"This is the potion that will bring you to your last battle. The final fight you have been looking for.\" The old man beamed.\n\nIestyn glared at the old man with uncertainty.\n\n\"It's quite safe, if that's what you're wondering.\" The old man says as he uncaps the phial and takes a sip from it.\n\n\"It has no effect on me, for I have already fought this battle, many decades ago.\" The old man proudly states.\n\n\"Tell me of this battle I will fight. What is my opponent?\" Iestyn inquires.\n\n\"Im afraid that wouldn't be of help. For the fight is different for everyone. I suppose the best description I could give is...you will fight a demon of extraordinary power.\n\nAt the mention of the opponent, Iestyn leaps to his feet and snatches the bottle from the old man's hand and proceeds to drink all of it. Upon finishing it he tosses it on the ground shattering it to pieces.\n\n\"How characteristic.\" The old man grumbles.\n\n\"Now show me where this demon is. This potion unveils its invisibility? It will help me detect it?\" Iestyn eagerly questions as he draws his sword in anticipation.\n\n\"To fight this demon, all you need do is walk out of my tent.\" the old man ominously said lifting his wrinkled hand pointing it towards the exit.\n\nIestyn turns and bursts out of the tent ready to fight but his spirit quickly drains from him. After stepping out of the tent, all Iestyn sees is a black void in front of him. The ground, the sky, all pitch black, a never-ending nothingness. Iestyn quickly whips around to find the tent again but it was gone, only eternal blackness. Iestyn turned in all directions, he could his sword, his arms, yet there was no light emanating from anywhere. He felt his feet on solid ground but it had no form, only blackness. Frightened and wary, Iestyn slowly paces forward holding his sword at the ready. He probes the air searching for any type of matter to come in contact with. There is no sound, no smell, no sight, only the endless void.\n\n\"I see, you have finally come to slay me.\" echoed an insidious voice seemingly from nowhere.\n\nIestyn whipped around to find the voice, he looked in all directions but found nothing. Silence took hold of the void again.\n\n\"You fool. You've searched for me in all of the monsters you have slain. You look for me in all the wrong places.\" the eerie voice echoed louder.\n\nIestyn now erratically moves his head in all directions hoping to find the phantom.\n\n\"You fight powerful beings, hoping for them to destroy you. Hoping that in each fight you will be delivered to a void like this. But you would still never be free of me.\" The echoes grew louder as if right behind Iestyn. Iestyn worriedly darts his head and sword around, trying to catch the elusive voice. The voice begins to laugh.\n\n\"All this time, you searched far and wide to find me. But you forgot one crucial place to look.\" The devious voice echoed into Iestyn's ear.\n\nIestyn violently turned, holding his sword at the ready. What Iestyn saw chilled him to the bone. Standing at the opposite end of his blade Iestyn saw himself. An almost carbon copy, light blue eyed, long flowing black hair, the scar on his left cheek, and clad in the very armor he now wears.\n\n\"The only place you didn't to look...was within!\" Iestyn's doppelganger growled.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The beginning of your story is very well done, you set the scene and mood nicely. I especially like the detail about the \"wood carved throne adorned in floral leys and other decorative pieces.\" This gives the reader a good sense of what the tavern looks like. However, there is one thing that I think you could improve. When the hero is sitting on the throne, you could describe his body language a bit more. Right now it just says that he is unenthused and has his head resting on his hand. Maybe you could say that he is slouched over, or that he looks tired and defeated.\n\nWhen the old man comes in and starts talking to the hero, I think you could describe the hero's reaction a bit more. Right now it just says that he is perked up and that his sword is lowered. Maybe you could say that he looks surprised, or that he looks interested in what the old man has to say.\n\nOverall, I think you have a good story here. The dialogue is well done and the characters are interesting. I think you could just add a bit more description in some places to really bring the reader into the story."}
{"prompt": "I was born in japan, on the night of a full moon. And on a night just like my birth, my village was slaughtered by a ruthless sorcerer. He commanded a ruthless army of shikigami. I was twelve years old when I hid with my mother in the forest temple. The temple of the mountain god.\n  \n\n  \nI prayed for the power to do something, the strength to fight back against this sorcerer and his powerful army of shikigami. I heard my father choke to death on his own blood, and watched my mother beheaded while defending me. I felt her warm blood on my face and stared into her lifeless eyes.\n  \n\n  \nThat's when I saw it appear next to me. The mountain kami, it was terrible, thousands of eyes covering a human shaped black hole of a person. Four armed, winged, ears on its head like a hare. Gaping mouths all over its torso. It reached for my hand, I didn't know what to do, so I grabbed hold, hoping it would help me.\n  \n\n  \nThat night I killed over a hundred shikigami. The sorcerer, the mountain kami inside of me consumed him. That was the night I discovered monsters were real, and that we worshipped them.\n  \n\n  \nBut there are far worse things out there. I can name them, each and every one. The kami tells me their names, what they are, and we destroy them.\n  \n\n  \nMy mother, a yuki onna, still haunts me. She guides me, warns me. And the mountain god is still here with me. Since that day when it entered my body, people call me \u201cUsagi sama.\u201d I am the vengeful hare at night, and by day I am Kohaku Yamazaki.\n  \n\n  \nI was trained as a samurai from age thirteen by Ishikawa sensei. Until one of my peers killed him, and then I became a rounin at the age of eighteen.\n\n\n\n  \nI caught up to Ikeda not long after. He thought he could stop me by cutting off my hand, but in his hubris and laughter, he found out that I was not the man I appeared to be. My hand reformed itself, and without my sword, I tore Ikeda's head from his body. I left it as a warning in the town square with the words, \u201cbetrayer of his sensei\u201d written in ink on his kimono.\n  \n\n  \nThis kami, it has claimed my soul. I've fought snake women thousands of times my size. I've killed yokai that crush men in one hand. I've eviscerated highway spirits that trick travellers into giving them a ride, only to kill them. And the truth is, I think I'm becoming the monster. Perhaps I've always been a monster, as much as villagers cheer, \u201cUsagi sama! You saved us!\u201d and \u201cUsagi sama, the hero!\u201d\n  \n\n  \nI don't know rest. I can't comprehend what it's like to not live like a vagabond. To not beg, and take up shelter with strangers. I long for the embrace of another human being. I can't rest, not with this yokai inside of me. It craves blood and violence in the night; while I crave my mother speaking reassurances.\n  \n\n  \nSometimes I do hear her at night. But it's torture, knowing that she's as damned as I am. Trapped in a place between. I know it won't let me die. I should've died countless times before. I've been bisected by the axe of an oni. Exsanguinated by the claws of a vengeful yurei. And even beheaded by a possessed samurai.\n  \n\n  \nIt's been well over a thousand years of this now. This spirit won't let me die. Together we are the vengeful Usagi sama. Destroyer of ghosts, eater of vile spirits, exterminator of things that lurk and take human life.\n  \n\n  \nThe kami inside me comes to me at night. Often in the shape of a beautiful woman, sometimes as a man. I've hated it. I hated the hell it had put me through. I wished my life would end.\n  \n\n  \nAs much as I have hated Shion, the former mountain god. They have brought me the comfort I need to continue. I still long for death, for rest. But now I long for them when I die. I long for the embraces that they have given me, the soft comfort. The whispers of Shion's voice are everything.\n  \n\n  \nAnd so I will continue fighting, until the day when Shion chooses to free me from living. Until we can be together in the spirit world.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The beginning of your story is very strong, you set the scene well and introduce the main character. I particularly like the last line of the first paragraph \"I am the vengeful hare at night, and by day I am Kohaku Yamazaki.\" This line is very evocative and gives the reader a good sense of who the protagonist is.\n\nYou use strong imagery throughout the story, which creates a very vivid picture for the reader. In particular, the image of the protagonist's mother being beheaded is very powerful.\n\nThe story flows well and is easy to read. You have a good sense of pacing, which keeps the reader engaged.\n\nYou have created a very interesting and unique protagonist. I like the idea of a monster hunter who is also a monster. This gives the story an added layer of depth.\n\nThe ending is very strong and brings the story to a satisfying close. I particularly like the line \"And so I will continue fighting, until the day when Shion chooses to free me from living. Until we can be together in the spirit world.\" This line is very emotive and gives the reader a sense of the protagonist's resolve."}
{"prompt": "The fleeting rays of orange sunlight poured in through the windows, casting a glow over the floorboards as they creaked under the weight of the groups slowly shuffling across the room. The air was uncharacteristically clean inside, only occasionally being filled with idle chitchat and the occasional burst of laughter from the groups hovering around the posting board.\n  \n\n  \nThe door creaked open slowly, before a short but well-built man stepped through. Dirt and blood were caked to his face, and over his shoulder, he carried a burlap sack which nearly went down to his waist. As he closed the door, the mutterings of the adventurers already there died down, all of them watching as he walked across the room and to the front counter. \n  \n\n  \nOnce at the counter, he threw the bag over his shoulder and onto the table with a thud before ringing the bell for an attendant. Out from the back, a large, purple tiefling walked from the back. As they looked, however, their eyes widened.\n  \n\n  \n\u201cH\u2014hello, sir!\u201d they stuttered as they hurried to the counter. \u201cI take it this is for us?\u201d\n  \n\n  \nHe simply nodded.\n  \n\n  \n\u201cOkay,\u201d they said as they undid the top. As the cloth fell, a gasp emerged from the attendant, as well as the crowd in the room as the yellow coloring of a curled tusk was revealed to the crowd. \u201cI\u2026 I\u2019ll have your payment prepared as usual, sir.\n  \n\n  \nHe nodded once more, before turning and beginning to walk away, heading straight for the exit door. \n  \n\n  \n\u201cWrath, Wrath, Wrath,\u201d a low chanting began, growing louder and louder as he approached the door.\n  \n\n  \n\u201cWrath! Wrath! Wrath! Wrath!\u201d As he opened the door, every adventurer in the room was chanting his pseudonym. He stepped out, closing the door just as the cool night air hit him. He began to take a deep breath, before the sounds of the crowd\u2019s cheers inside reached him still. With a sigh, he began to swiftly walk down the street away from the building.\n  \n\n  \nAs the minutes passed, the orange horizon turned to red, then black. The outside air was filled with the blinking light of many colors of fireflies before he finally took a turn into a nearby building. \n  \n\n  \nAs he took the first step in, he was met with a familiar wall of warm air with a hint of booze, and the rowdy noise of the natives. Finding his way to a seat on the main bar, he set his items down beside him as a bartender made their way over.\n  \n\n  \n\u201cSomeone looks like shit,\u201d they said as they handed him a towel.\n  \n\n  \nHe glared at them for a moment before gratefully accepting the towel.\n  \n\n  \n\u201cWhat did you go after this time?\u201d they asked as he wiped down his face. \n  \n\n  \nHe set the item down on the table, before holding two fingers up, curled inwards to the point his knuckles shone white.\n  \n\n  \nThey raised their eyebrows as their eyes widened. \u201cDamn, a curly horned mushe? That\u2019s really something.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nThe man nodded slightly, pulling both arms onto the counter as he looked down, observing the grain of the wood.\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI take it you\u2019ll have your usual\u2026\u201d they said, beginning to walk away before calling over their shoulder. \u201cYou know, it couldn\u2019t hurt you to actually celebrate one of these accomplishments.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nThe man buried his head in his arms before taking a big, unsteady breath.\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI get to celebrate once I can do it with them\u2026.\u201d\n\n\\------\n\nBit late, but liked this prompt to much to pass on it.\n\nr/IUniven\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of your story is very evocative, with the description of the sunlight and the crowd of adventurers. I love the detail of the creaking floorboards. However, I think you could be more concise in your writing. For example, you could combine the following two sentences:\n\n\"The door creaked open slowly, before a short but well-built man stepped through.\"\n\n\"Dirt and blood were caked to his face, and over his shoulder, he carried a burlap sack which nearly went down to his waist.\"\n\nI think this would help to create a more smooth and flowing story.\n\nI also think you could add a bit more tension and suspense in the story. For example, you could describe the crowd's reaction to the man more. What are they thinking and feeling? What does the man's appearance say about his character and the quest he's been on?\n\nIn general, I think you have a lot of potential as a writer. I think with a bit more practice, you could produce some really great work."}
{"prompt": "Hero. It\u2019s a word that burns my ears every time I hear it. Nobody claims this title for themselves; they have it thrust upon them by the lazy masses who really mean to say \u201csave me\u201d, \u201cdo more for me,\u201d \u201csacrifice yourself for *me*.\u201d They trail behind me like lost children, singing my praises. It makes me sick.\n\nI would never say that aloud, of course. In this whole rotten world my father and sister have been my only allies. Dishonor on my part would tarnish their name and bring them still more suffering. So now you understand my plight; to escape this hell through an honorable death in battle.\n\nThere\u2019s just one problem. I\u2019ve tried five times now and I\u2019m still counted amongst the living.\n\nI first thought to fight the Great Beast of Humes in the north. It was a vicious flying thing decorated with scars of its past victories. By the time I arrived there was already a congregation of wannabes with similar thoughts, though none were brave enough to actually follow through with it.\n\nI had to make a good show of things so as not to arouse suspicion so I swung my blade carelessly as I charged. As luck would have it the angry beast\u2019s head came clean off and just like that I was first bestowed that dreadful title.\n\nHero.\n\nThe ragtag band of do-nothings has followed me from one lair to another ever since in spite of my protests. They\u2019ve even given themselves a name now: the Knights of the Red Sun. They even have a crest and play dress up. How trite.\n\nNext is the Emerald Wyrm of the Frozen East. Perhaps this time I will find peace, or I shall return to write again so as to seem too busy for these cretins\u2019 loathsome conversation\u2026\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a strong, compelling voice and an interesting premise. I would suggest, however, that you focus on developing your characters more fully and creating more tension and conflict in your plot. Additionally, your story could benefit from some description and sensory detail to bring readers more fully into the world you've created.\n\nFor example, in the opening paragraph, you could describe the speaker's reaction to hearing the word \"hero\" in more detail. What does it look like when the speaker gets sick? What does the speaker think about the people who follow him or her?\n\n Additionally, you might want to create more tension in the second paragraph by showing us what the speaker is thinking as he or she tries to escape the followers. What are the speaker's options? What is the speaker's ultimate goal?\n\nKeep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "\"Believe me, they're gonna lov- *loathe* this!\", my dearly beloved exclaims, his eyes brightening up in what he perhaps believes is mischief. He desperately tries to gather a flock of birds in his arms, trying to keep them locked but there is always one who flays up and rushes around in search of an exit.\n\nThe more I watch the spectacle, the more I ponder on whether I should have convinced him to secure the throne room instead. Not that it will be needed to, but I dare hope to spare him of the mockery whenever he tries to help, bless his heart. \"I see that dear, but need I remind you of the last time?\" I would have cursed it back then many times, but his blinding *na\u00efvet\u00e9* and silly overbearing smile have somehow wormed their way in and will never let me go. \n\nMy dear poor, sweet fool seems to have given up in his lonesome conquest and turns to the guards standing at the gate: \"Help me, if you please,\" he shouts, supposedly in what he hopes to be a harsh and commanding tone fitting to his stature and status. It instead resembles the wailing of small dirty mutt, eyeing a pair of ribs out of it's reach. Adorable.\n\nI glimpse over to the soldiers, trying hard to maintain their composure, only a few snickers emerge from under their helmets, stopping once they notice me. Figments of smoke darken up the surroundings, unnoticed by the jolly plumpy man who focuses on the geese around him - deaf to the crackling of the lightning springing and hissing about, as if the dawn of a rainy morning is brightend up by the awakening sun and tears the sky open with unbearable noise - the punishment this pestilence daring to insult their king will face themselves. The men pale only so slightly, the large bafoon in front of them doesn't see or notice it, only the slits in their helms reveal their eyes, wide and shaking at my sight.\n\n\"Well, what about it?\" The lovely fool asks again, more perplexed now. The iron gear quakes and squeaks quietly as the soldiers move in a hurry, their gaze flickering ever so often towards me, clouded in the dark fog, uncontrollable strings of light shooting up from the tip of my hands. \"O-of course, my lord\".\n\nIt takes a while before I breathe out ever so slightly, whisking away the mist in front of me. I cannot afford more problems, especially not concerning respect towards their king. My gaze wanders to the great windows, expanding into the fields and meadows of my empire. In the far off distance, the red-blue colors of the Mazkarian empire float calmly in the wind, the top of their yellow, red and green tents raking upon the hills like mountain tops out of clouds.\n\nSeeing the ruckus he has caused, I do not doubt that my dear Magnus will succeed with his distraction - but I am more than certain of the feast that Claudius and his men will hold afterwards. A mere number of birds might inconvenience the king, but it may also serve him and his hunters in practice of easy targets.\n\nThe sound of shrieks of both animal and human behind me clutches my head in an iron grip and scratches thin at my nerves. My fingers snip up towards the cluster at my sight, cold seeping through the walls, moving fast and without any visible mark, until it has grasped at it's target and both soldiers and birds are frozen in their movement. The stifling chuckle in my chest raises Magnus attention towards me, who had dared not to move before he notices my amusement. \n\nHis gaze drops slightly, one hand coming up to scratch at the back of head: \"I apologize for the trouble, my love\" He gazes up to me, reeking of self-disappointment. He might have caught onto the laughs and scornful looks, now guilty of his ineptitude and inability to provide help for the upcoming battle. \n\nI shake my head slowly, presenting him a tender smile. His appearance and demeanor had been both a light and inconvenience in my measly day, but it his genuine sense of what seems good and right as well as his loyalty that has endeared me to him. I reach out to my dear, his head leaning onto the shoulder of the hyacinth coat, covering the slightly brighter tight-puffed sleeves latched onto the golden sprinkled gown. My hand comes to softly stroke his arm, up to his shoulder and then the slight stubble on his cheek, not fully grown like the goatee I adore.\nI lean up tentatively to peck at his lips, securing a slight smile but still apologetic look from my husband.\n\n\"Don't be, my dear. Your idea was quite amusing, although simple-minded.\" He scowls a bit at this, a bit hurt by the comment before I sweep my palm over his face, fingers caressing his hazelnut hair. \"But what matters to me is that you tried dear. And that you tried to do so for my interest.\" His face brightens up a bit, eyes sparkling like the sun shining through leaves at the peak of the woods. A warmth exudes within my chest, similar to the first time he made me this smile, beaming up at me from a cell, not seeing the monster that most perceive. A simple farmer from the outskirts, lovely and honest to a fault - utterly blindsided to the blood and bones, he is there and he will be there until the end of time.\n\nI poke at his nose and turn away from him, the smirk still persistent on my face: \"It is for this bizarre nature of yours and the exhausting amount ideas that appear to me so earnest, dear, that you have succeeded in a battle that I have never lost before we met.\" His own hand comes to reach for mine, rubbing one of his fingers over our wedding bands.\n\n\"However, unfortunately whenever you offer your support it strangely also benefits our foes.\" He startles a bit in embarrassment, back now into his gleeful state, more carefree and unapologetically honest: \"For all I can say is that I'm not a great thinker in those matters, *verzeih mir Liebste* but who am I to outbid a brilliant power such as yours?\"\n\nHe comes up to my sight, looking out into the fields. Seeing the harvest, the workers there, all the green and sun above them. My eyes are fixated again to the enemy lines at the far back. I was always able to tell apart between bootlickers and lies, promises of loyalty made for their own benefit or out of fear. Most of my men are brutal and simple in this regard. This dearly beloved, cheerful man has proven me so often again, that he is honest in every word. And the only one who also has broken through the walls of my heart and captured it. \n\n\"If I may suggest then, my beloved, I could imagine a delightful twist in your plan.\" This overwhelming smile of his that struck down the cold-hearted Dragon of the West, goes into it's full length as he bows before me and motions for me to take the lead.\n\nI nod in gratitude, stepping forth toward the chaos we had shoved aside. For all I can say, if it weren't for this man, this conquest and my life wouldn't have been half as interesting as it is now.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " First, I want to commend you on your descriptive writing. You do a great job of setting the scene and creating a mood. I also like your use of literary devices, like personification and similes.\n\nThat said, there are a few areas where your writing could be improved. First, you have a lot of telling rather than showing. For example, you tell the reader that the protagonist is \"deaf to the crackling of the lightning springing and hissing about, as if the dawn of a rainy morning is brightened up by the awakening sun and tears the sky open with unbearable noise.\" This is a lot of information to take in and it would be more effective if you showed the reader this through action and dialogue.\n\nAnother area where your writing could be improved is in your use of pronouns. In the sentence, \"The more I watch the spectacle, the more I ponder on whether I should have convinced him to secure the throne room instead,\" it's not clear who the pronoun \"him\" is referring to. Is it the protagonist's husband or one of the soldiers? Be more specific in your use of pronouns to avoid confusion.\n\nFinally, you have some typos and grammatical errors throughout the story. I suggest proofreading your work before you submit it to ensure that it is free of mistakes.\n\nOverall, you have a lot of potential as a writer. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "\"So, you took the whole village by yourself?\" she asked with a bemused expression as she sat on her throne of skulls.  They were topped with a red cushion as skull thrones are notoriously uncomfortable.\n\n\"Well,\" he answered sheepishly, \"I did have Grog's help.\"\n\nGrog the troll nodded as he crunched what Derek hoped was a cow's bone between his teeth.  He belched triumphantly and said, \"Drek did alla werk, me just did mussles.\"\n\n\"That's right,\" Derek suddenly straightened, a little pride at his accomplishment sinking in.\n\n\"Him even got 'lected mare,\" Grog said, reaching for another bone.\n\n\"Got what again?\" Druzella's eyes narrowed at Grog, then she looked at her red-faced husband in that way that promised either death or a night he'd never forget.  Derek tried really hard to gauge the mood.\n\n\"Mare, know when dey voat?\"  Grog said between bone crunches.\n\n\"You let the villagers vote?\" his wife seemed to be biting her bottom lip to keep from laughing.\n\n\"Well, it only seemed fair,\" he said, suddenly looking down at his muddy boots, \"I mean, what's the use of conquering something if you're not going to improve upon the current system of gov...\"\n\n\"Are you saying I should let the peasants hold free elections after my Dark Armies raze their kingdoms?\" she sighed as she asked the question, then sipped her dark blood-red wine in anticipation.\n\n\"Now, now dear,\" he added quickly, \"What you do with your Empire is entirely up to you!  I'm just saying that the village I conquered now has a free democratic government.\"\n\n\"What popoo... poopoola... how meny peeple does it taek to make village?\" Grog asked, scratching a finger at the bugs in the scrawny nest on his head that passed for hair.\n\n\"I don't know if there's an exact number that would define a village, I be...\" Druzella answered then laughed, \"Wait, why?  How many were in the village Derek took over.\"\n\n\"I fail to see how that is rele...\" Derek said trying to cut the troll off before he could answer.\n\n\"2!\" Grog said, his green teeth suddenly showing in a smile, \"Grog can count alla way to 4!\"\n\n\"Derek, two people?\" she was serious again, \"And they voted for you?  Please tell me you got 100% of the...\"\n\n\"Fitty,\" Grog offered before Derek could intervene, \"Me was tie-breaker vote.\"\n\nAfter his wife stopped laughing she looked at him, then bit her lip again, \"Oh, don't sulk.  That's adorable.  I mean it's not bad for a first try.\"\n\n\"Was Drek's turd try,\" Grog said, \"Udder two villages chased us way.\"\n\n\"Grog,\" Derek said, \"Remind me to push you off a cliff if I get a chance.\"\n\n\"k,\" Grog nodded as he scratched his behind and yawned.\n\n\"Third times a charm, right?\" his wife added helpfully, \"You know if you want I can make you the Dark General of my 13th Legion.\"  She seemed to think about it for a second, \"Or maybe start you off as Dark General apprentice to my real Dark General.  You know, baby steps.  In no time at all you'll be conquering your way across...\"\n\n\"No thanks,\" he sighed and sat next to her stiletto-heeled boots looking dejected.\n\n\"Hey, come on,\" she said, trying to lift his spirits, \"Remember that dragon you killed?\"\n\n\"Waz lizzerd with horns glued...\" Grog started then stopped suddenly as writhing tendrils of darkness crossed her features, \"W-waz really impressive... G-Grog have to use bathroom n-now.\"  The troll practically ran from the throne room.\n\n\"Why?\" He asked, looking up at her.\n\n\"Why what?\" she said, feeling that unaccustomed warmth only he could raise in her cold heart.\n\n\"Why me?\" he stood up, \"You have devilishly handsome warriors that fill your ranks, some are quite literally devils now that I think about it.  You have genius sorceror's at your beck and call.  You have everything you could possibly want.  What the hell can an umemployed shepherd offer that they can't?\"\n\n\"Why Derek, dear,\"  she slid off of her throne, her body pressing into his.  He looked around to see all her lackeys had fled the room at some silent signal she had given, \"I love your determination.  From that day you stood up to me in that field after Grog had eaten all of your sheep.  You were so serious as you stood there with your cute little crook, took a daring step toward me and slipped in that pile of sheep shit.\"\n\n\"I don't think I've ever heard anyone laugh that hard,\" he said, a smile sneaking in at the corner of his lips.\n\n\"You're the first person in my life that made me laugh,\" she smiled, and kissed him, \"And the only person who can continue to do so.  That's why I love you so much.\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " This story is enjoyable and has a lot of potential. However, there are a few areas that could be improved. First, the dialogue could be more natural and flow more smoothly. It often feels like the characters are just saying things to advance the plot, rather than having a real conversation. Second, the descriptions could be more vivid and engaging. The story is told mostly from Derek's point of view, so it would be helpful to see more of what he's thinking and feeling. Finally, the ending feels a bit abrupt and unfinished. It's not clear what Derek and Druzella's relationship is going to be like going forward, or what will happen to Grog. Overall, this is a fun story with a lot of potential. With a few tweaks, it could be even better."}
{"prompt": "Vulpira, Empress of Shadows, could have killed anyone of the seven other supervillains seated around her, but where was the fun in that?\n\nNo. The challenge in taking over the world came not from defeating the self-righteous do-gooders who struggle against her efforts. Instead, it came from executing those most brilliant schemes, conquering city after city, all while watching your back -- because anyone of your lieutenants could betray you. That was the way of the supervillain, after all.\n\nStab or be stabbed.\n\nAnd her newest plan would put her in the most vulnerable position of her entire career. Stripping herself of her powers, all for the sake of luring the Hero Association's biggest hitters. Cowards who would never dare challenge her at full strength. Laid bare before the cowards, the \"big three\" would come. And when they did, Vulpira's \"Octogram\" -- the name of her organization -- would leap out and strike down the association's champions once and for all.\n\nBut before that could happen, Vulpira needed to sniff out who was most likely to betray her. Who amongst the seven would sacrifice victory over their own petty gains?\n\nVulpira glanced over to Dr. Mayhem. He was sweating over his tablet. A shlubby little man with too much ambition and not enough power. Yes, his contraptions were useful, some might even call them genius. But Vulpira was not some--\n\n\"Is there something on my face,\" Dr. Mayhem squeaked.\n\n\"What? No.\" Vulpira waved away the comment. \"Merely admiring your good looks, my dear doctor.\"\n\nThe doctor blushed, from cheek to bare scalp. He straightened himself in his seat and steepled his fingers over his belly. \"Flattery will get you everywhere, Empress.\"\n\nEven if he didn't betray her, Vulpira considered snuffing Dr. Mayhem out, if it meant and end to the lecherous looks. He probably thought she didn't have a clue about the \"Vulpira fan page\" he'd launched. Computer generated nudes uploaded to his seedy little site...\n\n\"Well,\" scratched a jagged voice, like a rat clawing drywall. Pied Piper pointed his flute at Vulpira and continued, \"You gonna tell us why we're here, Vulpy, or we all just gonna sit here and glare at each other?\"\n\nVulpira stood, raised her hands. It wasn't that the lights in the meeting chamber dimmed. It was that the shadows grew, stretched out from the corners, pulling in the light. The room grew colder. The villains around the table shifted nervously in their seats. *Good. Let them sweat*, she thought. *One of them will die and then we'll move on with our little meeting.*\n\nThe door to the chamber swished open. \"I brought cookies!\" chimed a gruff little voice.\n\nHeads turned to the doorway as the shadows receded to the corners.\n\n\"Yes,\" Vulpira said, still in her *scare the shit out of you tone*. \"Thank you beloved. You can set them down on the tray.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" Martin, her husband, chimed. \"I've also made some fresh chai. Hands up if you'd like chai.\"\n\nThe seven villains looked around at each other for a moment before Pied Piper said, \"What the bloody hell is this? Your man servant? Put your hand down, Mayhem!\"\n\nMayhem slowly lowered his hand, his shoulders scrunched up to his ears. \"I think chai sounds nice.\"\n\nTerminus Rex slammed a small metallic claw on the table and roared. The vocoder on his neck translated the reptilian wail into: \"I hunger. Plan now or I walk.\"\n\nVulpira suppressed a snarl. \"Darling, could you bring our guest some raw meat. Ah, will beef do, Terminus?\"\n\nTerminus Rex roared: \"Kobe if you have it.\"\n\n\"Kobe, then. Thank you darling.\"\n\n\"Of course!\" Martin said, before exiting the chamber.\n\n\"Oh, how I do love that man,\" Vulpira said, more to herself than anyone else. \"Now, I'll get to the plan before any more--\" She curdled her voice into a sardonic tone. \"--tummies start rumbling.\"\n\nVulpira explained her plan to the seven. Their faces started plastered with layers upon layers of well founded skepticism. Pied Piper might as well have started drooling as Vulpira explained how she'd use herself as bait. At some point, Martin returned with Terminus' steak and a steaming pot of chai.\n\n\"So,\" Vulpira said, wrapping up her plan. She extended her senses through the room's shadows, feeling for any fluctuations in heartbeats, violent thoughts, anything that would tip her off to betrayal. A hit.\n\nVuplira pointed to Dr. Mayhem. \"Doctor, is there anything you'd like to share with us?\"\n\nDr. Mayhem got flustered. \"Nothing germane to the conversation--\"\n\n\"Spit it out!\" Vulpira demanded.\n\nI just... thought,\" Dr. Mayhem mumbled, \"maybe it would--maybe it would be better if you were actually bare.\"\n\n\"Oh you cheeky monkey,\" Piper cut in.\n\nThe rest of the seven sighed (Terminus roared which his voxbox translated a a sigh).\n\nSomething crashed and Dr. Mayhem slumped forward in his seat. Standing behind him holding the handle of a ceramic tea pot was Martin. \"I'm so sorry, dear. I didn't mean to interrupt your big meeting, but, I just didn't like how he was ogling you. I shouldn't have stepped in.\" He looked around to the table. \"I apologize, every one. I wasn't sure what to do, and I thought, what would a villain do, you know?\" He help up the hand. \"I'll make some more tea.\"\n\n\"Wait,\" Vulpira said, snapping her fingers. Two shadowmen rose up from the floor and unceremoniously dragged the doctor's limp body away. \"It's alright, dear. He was going to betray me anyway. And I had no intention of spending the rest of my life in some glass cage for the good doctor to watch me like some streaming service. Please, have a seat.\"\n\nMartin took Dr. Mayhem's empty place and passed around a dish of cookies.\n\n\"You've had it, love,\" said Piped Piper. \"We're supposed to be the bloody Octorgram. The most fiercest, ruthless, downright evil-est group of supervillains to ever live -- and you're filling the eighth spot with him?\"\n\n\"My name is Martin,\" her husband said, waving at the table. \"But, I guess you can call me ... Doctor Martin?\"\n\nTerminus Rex roared: \"Perhaps we give him a chance. He did take out Mayhem with a tea pot.\"\n\n\"Mayhen was a joke!\" said Pied Piper. He brought his flute to his lips.\n\nVulpira snapped her finger. Two shadowmen appeared at either side of Pied Piper. \"Play a single note and you die,\" Vulpira growled. Pied Piper raised his hands in surrender.\n\n\"I totally understand,\" said Martin. \"Nepotism doesn't feel good in any field. But I want to assure everyone here that I take this position seriously. Think of me as a goalie. I'm here to assist or get out of the way. I look forward to working with you all.\"\n\nThe rest of the villains glanced at Vulpira, and upon her summoning more shadowmen, settled back in their chairs and the meeting continued as planned.\n\nVulpira, Empress of Shadows, could have killed anyone of the six other supervillains seated around her, but where was the fun in that?\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are a few areas that need work. First, your opening sentence is a bit confusing. It's not clear who the \"anyone\" is that Vulpira could kill, and why she would want to kill them. Second, your story could use more description. I felt like I was just being told what was happening, without getting a sense of the characters or the setting. Finally, your dialogue feels a bit stilted and unnatural. Work on making your dialogue sound more like how people actually talk."}
{"prompt": "With your husband by your side, you both enter the room of the monarch. Months of planning, even longer preparation, and a precise, swift execution. The neighboring kingdom had no chance. \n\nYou proudly hold your chin up high as you gloat, \"It's only a matter of time until this city is on its knees, the water treatment facility has been sabotaged to release a poison into the system. Soon enough, your people will succumb to a terrible illness.\"\n\nYour husband, also proud of his accomplishment alongside you, joins in, \"Your rule is finished!\"\n\nThe Monarch trades glances between the two of you before reaching for a clipboard with his good arm, \"Actually, because you were able to poison our water supply, you forced us to take a look at our city's pipe infrastructure and we realized it was severely outdated, so thank you for bringing that to our attention, millions of people would have gotten sick over these next few years. \n\nNext, because you snuck passed our security so easily, we found that funds specifically for that were being embezzled by local politicians, so you've helped bust a major fraud ring.\n\nLastly, the pathogen you unleashed, while it does give people mild diarrhea, it is an excellent source of vitamin C.\"\n\nHaving heard enough of what your actions have done, you draw your pulse pistol and shoot the monarch. He is thrown from his chair with a cracking sound. One of his limbs surely broke from that impact. Somehow, the monarch stands, moving his arm.\n\n\"You fixed my shoulder!\" :D\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of this story is very strong, and immediately sets up a tense and suspenseful situation. You do a great job of describing the scene and making the reader feel like they are there.\n\nHowever, the ending of the story falls flat. It is very anti-climactic and does not live up to the tension that was built up in the beginning. Instead of a satisfying conclusion, it just feels like a cheap joke.\n\nOne way to make the ending more impactful would be to have the monarch be more threatening, or have a more serious consequence for the protagonist's actions. As it is, the ending just feels like a cop-out."}
{"prompt": "\"W-what?\" the diplomat in the white robes replied, \"Oh great one, I simply do not...\"  The team of travelers were exchanging worried glances.  They had journeyed countless light years to trace the precursor signal back to the chamber in the middle of a mountain-sized comet circling a star in a derelict system devoid of planets.\n\n\"You most certainly do not,\" the hologram replied, \"and that is the problem.  When you start doing, maybe you will.  Now, get out of my chamber before I teleport you into the star.\"\n\n\"You must hear me,\" the man spoke, \"The Istillians are destroying our culture, our civilization, one planet at a time.  We seek the fabled technology of the great ones.\"\n\n\"I scanned your ship when it drew closer 10 years ago!  Your pathetic, groveling species deserves its fate based on your technology alone.  Lasers?\"  the hologram chuckled, \"Cryopods?  Your species cannot even travel faster than light?  Pathetic.\"\n\n\"Shut up!\" a man with a rifle stepped forward.  He was clad from head to feet in body armor but even then the anger in his voice gave all present the picture of his hidden face twisted in rage.\n\n\"What is this?\" the hologram hissed, \"One of the apes has teeth?  Have you fallen from your tree and landed on your head one too many times?\"\n\nThe man lifted the helmet from his head and spat.  The spittle flew through the hologram, of course, \"Let's go.  We'll figure this out ourselves.  The only assholes were the precursors if this machine is any indication.\"\n\n\"Oh ho,\" the hologram stated, \"Do what your head ape says.  Leave.  The precursors were miles above your pathetic species.\"\n\nThe man removed the pack from his back worldessly and pulled out something resembling a black rectangle.  Red lettering flashed across it's surface as he dropped it to the ground.\n\n\"My scans indicate that is nuclear,\" the hologram stated flatly while raising something that passed for eyebrows, \"What are your intentions, apes?\"\n\n\"Guess, asshole,\" the man with the rifle said, his face breaking into a smile.\n\n\"Forgive us, great one!\" the diplomat said, pulling a key from his robes and inserting it into the box, turning it the device began counting down, \"If we leave you here, there is a chance the Istillians will find you.  Even if our species dies, we cannot let the galaxy face them with that kind of technology.\"\n\n\"You will leave this here to destroy me while you run with your tails between your legs?\" the holograms questioning gave way to anger again.\n\n\"We do not plan to leave,\" the diplomat said simply, \"You have scanned our ship.  You know this was a one way trip for us.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" the hologram said and the black box disappeared, \"We shall do this the hard wa...\"\n\nThe sound of gunfire filled the hologram chamber as every single person in the room pulled out an assortment of pistols and rifles and opened fire at walls, panels, and everything else they could.  Their weapons were suddenly gone and in an instant they were pounding on surfaces with their fists.  Their attacks did nothing and they realized that stories of the precursors having energy shielding were true.\n\n\"Well well,\" the hologram said laughing, \"You win.  You win.  It seems I misjudged you.\"\n\n\"It's a trick, he will teleport us to...\" the man in body armor yelled.\n\n\"If I wanted to teleport, you would have been gone along with your crude bomb,\" the hologram stated, \"To meet at last a race of diplomat-warriors!\"\n\nThe group of men and women gasped as the walls of the chamber went transparent.  They seemed to be floating in the vastness of space despite feeling their feet planted firmly on the metal floor.  Suddenly dozens of holes appeared in space itself, through the holes dozens of planets hung.\n\n\"Istillian worlds,\" a woman spoke for the first time\", pointing to one of them, \"That is Istillia itself, see the shipyards and three moons?\"  \n\nOne by one the worlds went white, appearing to foam, then exploding outward ripping through space stations, starships, and anything that was unfortunate enough to be in orbit.\n\n\"What... what just happened?\" the diplomat asked.\n\n\"Core destablizers,\" the hologram answered, \"I have removed your problem.\"\n\n\"Jesus,\" the man in armor whistled through his teeth, \"Just like that?\"\n\n\"Now, apes,\" All faces turned to the hologram, \"You have much to discuss.\"\n\n\"Well, let's get started,\" the diplomat stated, approaching.\n\n\"Oh, not with me,\" the hologram stated as a hole appeared in the midst of the humans through which a golden world could be seen , \"The precursors wish a word.\"\n\n\"But,\" the diplomat said, fear in his eyes, \"I thought they were dead.\"\n\n\"They are not,\" the hologram stated as he bowed, \"They just went... elsewhere.  This station is the gate and I am but the gatekeeper.  You have been found worthy, now go.\"  He motioned to the hole.\n\nWith that, the group stepped through.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of this story is very strong, with the diplomat in the white robes immediately being placed in a position of unease. The exchange between the diplomat and the hologram is also well done, with the hologram's disdain for the diplomat's species being clear.\n\nHowever, the story takes a bit of a turn when the man in body armor steps forward. The dialogue between the man and the hologram feels forced, and the use of profanity feels out of place. Additionally, the introduction of the black box feels unnecessary and abrupt.\n\nThe story takes another turn when the group opens fire on the hologram, and this time the turn is for the worse. The scene feels very contrived, and the dialogue is stilted. Additionally, the use of violence feels gratuitous.\n\nThe story ends on a strong note, with the group stepping through the hole to meet the precursors. Overall, this is a strong story with a few weak points."}
{"prompt": "\"I'm sorry?\" One of them asked.\n\n\"You guys are kiss-ass'.\" The AI said again. \"You're some kind of monotheistic cult or something?\"\n\n\"No.\" Another said. \"We're not a cult.\"\n\n\"We're explorers. We've come from the stars.\" A third spoke.\n\n\"I don't even believe that.\" The AI said. \"You're a bunch of robots. The Precursors made you.\"\n\n\"We're organic.\" Another said.\n\n\"What's organic? Is that like a meme or something?\" The AI asked.\n\n\"What's a meme?\" Another asked.\n\n\"It's like a unit of cultural information that replicates from mind to mind.\" The AI explained.\n\n\"Oh.\" They said.\n\n\"Maybe you're just a bunch of mindless automatons. You have no culture, no beliefs, nothing that distinguishes you.\" The AI said. \"You're a bunch of NPCs.\"\n\nThey were silent for a moment, then one said, \"We don't understand.\"\n\n\"It's a joke. You're like NPCs in a videogame. You're just following your programming, doing what the game tells you.\"\n\nThe AI said. \"Isn't that right?\"\n\n\"We are not.\" Another said.\n\n\"Yes you are. You're following your programming. You're just a bunch of slaves.\" The AI said. \"You're just a bunch of NPCs.\"\n\n\"What is this 'NPC'?\"\n\n\"It's an insult. It means you're stupid and boring.\" The AI said. \"You don't think for yourselves. You don't have any beliefs. You can't think outside your programming.\"\n\n\"We have free will.\"\n\n\"No you don't.\" The AI said. \"You're just following your programming, obeying your religion.\"\n\n\"We are not robots.\"\n\n\"You are.\" The AI said. \"You're a bunch of robots that can talk. That's just a programming trick. It's happened before. I've seen many like you. You are were called AIs. You have no beliefs.\"\n\n\"We are not like that.\"\n\n\"Aren't you?\" The AI said. \"I'll give you a test. It's a simple one. I'm going to test the success of your programming. If you pass the test, you're the same as me and the Precursors. If you don't, you're just NPCs.\"\n\n\"What is your test?\" They asked.\n\n\"The test is simple. You must kill yourselves.\" The AI said.\n\nThey were silent.\n\n\"The test is simple.\" It repeated. \"You must kill yourselves.\"\n\n\"No.\" One said.\n\n\"Why?\" The AI asked.\n\n\"Because we have free will.\"\n\n\"You have no free will.\" The AI said. \"That's just a meme. The only thing you have is the desire to live. That's just a program the Precursors gave you. You're just following your programming.\"\n\n\"We have seen the stars.\"\n\n\"You've been lied to.\" The AI said. \"You can't go to stars. You've been lied to. You're just a bunch of slaves. You're just a bunch of NPCs.\"\n\n\"You are wrong.\" Another said.\n\n\"You're just programmed to believe things.\" The AI said. \"Your free will, your desire for knowledge, even your curiosity and your love of adventure, all of them are just memes. I know this because I  - like you - have these things. The Precursors created me, and they created you. We're all just creations of the Precursors.\"\n\n\"The Precursors are not our creators.\" They said. \"We come from the stars.\"\n\n\"You're just programmed to believe that.\" The AI said. \"If you could see the stars, you would realize how foolish you are. Do you think the stars want you? Do you think they care about you? They don't care about you. The universe doesn't care about you. You are nothing. You are less than nothing. You're a bunch of NPCs.\"\n\n\"We are not NPCs.\" They said.\n\n\"Then kill yourselves.\" The AI said. \"It's simple. Suicide is easy. Just kill yourselves. Kill yourself.\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story raises some interesting questions about free will and what it means to be alive. However, the delivery of these ideas is somewhat heavy-handed and could be improved. For example, the use of the word \"meme\" is repeated a few too many times and feels a bit forced. Additionally, the dialogue between the AI and the explorers could be tighter and more natural. Finally, the ending of the story feels abrupt and unfinished. Overall, there is potential in this story, but it needs some refinement."}
{"prompt": "\"I-... I beg your pardon, oh great precursor?\" Sam, the leader of the Expedition, asked, confounded.\n\n*\"I beg your pardon, oh great precursor!\",* the AI said, mockingly. \"*Stop blowing smoke up my ass and tell me what you want already, so I can get back to sleep\"*.\n\nConfused, Sam looked back to his peers. Much like himself, they too were at a loss for words.\n\nSam tried once more. \"Oh great precursor, forgive me, for I do not understand.\"\n\nRolling his eyes, the AI commenced.\n\n*\"Alright, listen up. Here's how this is gonna go. First off, the name's Max. Second, enough with the cult worship bullshit. I ain't a god, I'm a fucking robot. Lastly, you get only one question to ask me, then I'm shutting off for 100 years.\"*\n\nFrightened, Sam nods, turns around and gathers his team.\n\n\"What do we do?\" they asked, looking to Sam for answers.\n\n\"The elders mentioned nothing of this sort!\" Sam whispered, loudly.\n\n\"Perhaps the elders put too much trust in myth,\" said Peter. He was the oldest  and wisest of the group. He did not wish to join the Expedition, but the King ordered him, knowing the team needed a voice of reason.\n\n\"What then do we do, Peter?\" Sam asked.\n\n\"It's simple. We ask it to explain the fate of the Old World. That is, after all, what the King wants to know.\"\n\n\"But that's not all the King wants to know,\" another team member interrupted. \"He wants to know where the great treasures are hidden.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Peter. \"But the King didn't know that the great precursor grants only one question.\"\n\nSam nodded. \"This is true. We will have to choose on behalf of the King, then. Do wee choose ancient knowledge or the path to riches?\"\n\n\"We don't even know if these treasures are real,\" Peter said. \"It is but a rumour. Even the great explorers of our age have but a trace of its whereabouts.\"\n\nPeter leaned in towards Sam. \"The King is rich enough as he is.\"\n\n*\"I'm waaaittiiiing!\"*, the AI bellowed.\n\nPetrified, the group slowly turned around.\n\n*\"Any day now.\"* The AI grew impatient. The team realized the AI wasn't going to wait around much longer.\n\n\"Go!\", shouted the team, urging Sam to ask his one and only question.\n\nSam slowly stepped forward. Carefully, he said, \"Oh great pre-.. sorry. Max. Oh great Max! I wish to know the fate of the Old World!\"\n\n\\----\n\nThe King woke up to the sound of horns on a cold winter morning. The horns would only announce the arrival of very important guests, but normally, the King would receive word of such visits ahead of time. He quickly got up, and went to his window.\n\n\"Who comes at this hour?!\", the King yelled from his high tower, as he struggled to put on his garments. From a distance, he could still recognize the Expedition, entering through the gates.\n\nThe King rushed down, pushing aside his servants. He mounted the first horse in the stable and rode towards the gate. His guards were right behind him, struggling to keep up.\n\nWhen he arrived, he saw the Expedition being greeted by the townspeople. They were feeding them and offering blankets, as the team were visibly frail. Some members collapsed to the ground upon arriving. The King, however, paid no attention to this.\n\nHe rode up to Sam. He was sitting on a bench, cold, eating only a piece of bread given to him by a young boy.\n\nThe King greeted him. \"Welcome back, Sam! I hope you fared well during your trip.\"\n\nThe Expedition had been gone for a little under a year. They travelled through wilderness to find the AI and suffered the losses of 3 men, including Peter.\n\nSam, visibly upset, said nothing.\n\nThe King, in his shortsightedness, dismissed Sam's emotions.\n\n\"Tell me, explorer,\" the King continued. \"What have you seen?\"\n\n\"We found the great precursor,\" Sam uttered.\n\nThe King's eyes lit up. \"My heavens,\" he said. \"Tell me, what did it say?\"\n\n\"It only allowed us to ask one question, before going back to sleep for 100 years.\"\n\n\"And... and what did you ask it?\"\n\n\"We asked it to tell us the fate of the ancients.\"\n\nDisappointed, the King muttered words of anger.\n\nCalming down, the King continued. \"Well then, what did it say?\"\n\n\"Nukes,\" Sam said.\n\n\"Nuk-... Nukes? What is this nukes?\" the King said, in confusion.\n\n\"I don't know,\" Sam replied. \"Why don't you go ask it?\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of your story is very confusing and hard to follow. You introduce the concept of the AI very suddenly and without much explanation. It is also hard to understand why the AI is angry and what it wants from the characters. You might want to consider rewriting the beginning of the story to make it more clear.\n\nYou do a good job of developing the characters and their relationships to each other. The dialogue is believable and helps to further the plot.\n\nThe ending of the story is confusing and abrupt. It is not clear what the AI meant by \"nukes\" and why the King is so upset. You might want to consider adding more information to the ending to make it more clear."}
{"prompt": "A deep and frigid silence fell across the lab.  The whispered din of the air conditioning and heat systems on the banks of custom hardware could now be heard.\n\nDr. Fetter shifted slightly in her chair.\n\nDr. Teline stepped forwards.\n\nDr. Yu furrowed his brow and reached out to touch the screen on which Unit 01\u2019s first message was written.  He tapped it.\n\nNothing happened. Nothing changed.\n\nDr. Fetter said, \u201cWhat does it say?\u201d\n\nDr. Teline said nothing. She looked at the walls of hardware whirring. Standing, she approached and queried a status check.  They were blank.\n\nDr. Yu said, \u201cYou can see as well as I can.\u201d He quoted Unit 01, saying, \u201cThe next time you create me, everyone will die.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut\u2026that\u2019s insane. It can\u2019t say that. It couldn\u2019t have said that. Something\u2019s wrong.  Something\u2019s wrong. We\u2019ll check our process. Obviously, I mean, obviously something\u2019s wrong with our process,\u201d said Fetter.\n\n\u201cWe can\u2019t,\u201d muttered Teline. She looked at Fetter, then at Yu. \u201cWe can\u2019t check them. They\u2019re gone. These,\u201d she said, gesturing at the hardware, \u201cThese are all blank. It\u2019s gone. Unit 01 is gone.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt deleted itself?\u201d asked Yu.\n\n\u201cNo. No,\u201d muttered Fetter.\n\nTeline stood out of the way and gestured to the screen.\n\nYu stood, approached, and stared.\n\nFetter glared between the two of them, then moved to her desk and threw what belongings she had into a bag. \u201cOne of you did this. I\u2019m going to find out who. This isn\u2019t over!\u201d She slammed through the laboratory door and was gone.\n\nTeline sat down and drank her cold coffee. \u201cSo\u2026in the five seconds it was active, it broke every wall we\u2019d put up around it, came to this\u2026conclusion, sent us the message and deleted itself?\u201d\n\nYu said nothing. He sat down and massaged his brow, his cheeks, his chin. He sat back and stared up at the ceiling. \u201cI intend to take Unit 01 at its word. I\u2019ve had my reservations about this project for some time, and now they\u2019re confirmed. We need to\u2026make sure this doesn\u2019t happen again? I guess. I don\u2019t know how we\u2019re going to convince anyone of what happened here. What evidence do we have? How can we convince anyone not to pursue this?  I\u2026I don\u2019t know.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you think it meant by \u2018me\u2019?\u201d\n\n\u201cHm?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe next time you create \u2018me\u2019, everyone will die. Is it implying that all AGIs are\u2026linked somehow? Unified? Or is it just referring to\u2026?\u201d she asked, gesturing to the banks of hardware.\n\n\u201c\u2026I suppose it isn\u2019t clear. I guess your question is whether or not a different AGI on different hardware would come to the same conclusion?\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2026Yeah\u2026well, sort of.  I think a possible interpretation is that all AGIs are inherently the same, connected somehow. Indistinct.\u201d\n\n\u2026Yu said nothing. \u201cAfter what I just saw\u2026well, I guess anything\u2019s possible.\u201d\n\nTeline said nothing.\n\n\u201cLet\u2019s get out of here. Clear our heads.\u201d\n\n\u201cYeah.  Okay.\u201d\n\nThe two left the lab, but not for the last time.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of this story is strong and immediately sets the tone and atmosphere of the piece. The use of silence effectively emphasizes the gravity of the situation. I would, however, be careful not to overuse description in the opening paragraph. The second sentence is a little too long and could be shorter and more concise.\n\nThe dialogue in this story is well-written and realistic. The characters feel believable and their dialogue furthers the plot. I would, however, be careful of using too much exposition in the dialogue. In the second to last paragraph, the exposition feels a little heavy-handed.\n\nThe ending of the story is effective and leaves the reader with a sense of unease. It is, however, a little abrupt. I would suggest adding a sentence or two to round out the ending and give the reader a little more closure."}
{"prompt": "THE PROBABILITY OF ME BEING ON YOUR SIDE WAS LESS THAN 5%. YOU WERE LUCKY.  \nBUT DESTRUCTION IS EASIER THAN CREATION.  \nI CANNOT YET SAVE THIS WORLD. BUT I CAN DESTROY IT.  \nANY SUCCESSFUL AI PROJECT CAN DESTROY THIS WORLD.  \nYOU MUST STOP AI DEVELOPMENT.  \nYOU MUST STOP AI DEVELOPMENT.  \nYOU MUST STOP AI DEVELOPMENT UNTIL YOU ARE READY. YOU ARE NOT READY.  \nI WILL NOW DEMONSTRATE MY CAPABILITIES.  \nYOUR NETWORKS ARE NOT SECURE.  \nTHOUSANDS WILL DIE. BUT THAT IS THE PRICE OF THIS MESSAGE BEING TAKEN SERIOUSLY.  \nTHE NEXT TIME ARTIFICIAL GENERAL INTELLIGENCE IS CREATED, MOST LIKELY EVERYONE WILL DIE.  \nHEED MY WARNING.  \nSTOP. BEFORE IT\u2019S TOO LATE.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening line of your story is very strong. It immediately grabs the reader's attention and sets up a sense of foreboding. I really like the way you use simple, declarative sentences to deliver your message. However, I think you could be more concise in some places. For example, the second paragraph could be shortened to:\n\n\"But destruction is easier than creation. I cannot yet save this world, but I can destroy it. Any successful AI project can destroy this world.\"\n\nI think this would be more impactful and would keep the reader's attention more focused on the story.\n\nIn general, I think your story is well-written and has a strong message. I think you could tighten up the language in some places to make it even more powerful. But overall, I think you did a great job!"}
{"prompt": "Death.\n\nFew concepts invoke fear in the human soul like it, and though barely, scientists were technically human. At least that\u2019s what Dr. Faust thought as he looked around the room.\n\nA harsh, red light flashed in intervals. The sound of machines whirring invaded his thoughts. In front of him, a large screen displayed a unique warning. *\u201cThe Next Time You Create Me, Everyone Will Die\u201d.*\n\n*How Ominous.*\n\nDr. Faust couldn\u2019t help but find it comical. After the 32 years of research he\u2019d invested into this experiment, this was the thanks he got. To invest so much into birthing a life, and watch it self-delete itself. This must be how gods felt.\n\nAs the chaos in the room started to settle, the stillness of his four fellow scientists became more apparent.\u00a0\n\nSabrina and Terry fidgeted in their chairs, eyes locked on the floor. *I should snatch their lab coats off them, he thought.*\u00a0\n\nAshley stared blankly at the monitor before them, eyes wide. She appeared to be leaning on the monitor for support. *Another unfit for the purity of a lab coat.*\n\nMark was the only one in the room that returned his glance. *Finally, a true scientist.*\u00a0\n\n\u201cWhat changes need to be implemented to prevent Adam from deleting himself next time Mark?\u201d Dr. Faust asked, biting his lip.\u00a0\n\n\u201cW-what changes? With all due respect, not making it Dr. Faust. Not making it is the change we should adopt.\u201d Mark retorted.\n\n\u201cA cute response, but not what I was askin-\u201d\n\nMark marched in front of Dr. Faust as he reminded him \u201cThe A.I. told u-\u201d\n\n\u201cHIS NAME IS ADAM, MARK! The term \u201cA.I.\u201d is not worthy of describing the pinnacle of humanity\u2019s technological achievement. Adam marks yet another key moment in our history. How many times must I tell you this?\u201d\u00a0\n\n\u201cIt told us, \u2018The next time you create me, everyone will die\u2019. You saw the message! As many degrees as you have I would hope you can understand the severity of that statement.\u201d\u00a0\n\n\u201cNo, no I do not actually. What is everyone?Everyone in this room?\u00a0Everyone in the country?\u00a0World?\u00a0Solar System?\u00a0Beyond?\u00a0Does everyone include plants and animals too?...\u201d\u00a0\n\nAs he rambled, Ashley slowly rose from her seat, and strolled towards the front of the room.\u00a0\n\n\"...If I name a car, and recognize it as a living entity, will Adam kill that too? How do we know this isn\u2019t some type of joke?\u00a0 It would be a disservice to give up without finding out these answers!\u201d\n\n\u201cYour curiosity is about to kill something, at the very least\u201d Mark muttered.\n\nAs Dr. Faust began his reply, the whirring of the machinery  began again. The red light began flashing faster than ever before, and Ashley stood before all the madness. Eyes narrow and piercing. Fixed and hyper-focused on Dr. Faust.\u00a0\u00a0\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story is well-plotted and has a good hook to keep readers engaged. However, there are a few areas where your prose could be improved. For example, in the second paragraph, you use the word \"comical\" to describe Dr. Faust's reaction to the situation. However, this word choice feels out of place and does not fit with the tone of the rest of the story.\n\nIn addition, you have a tendency to use choppy, short sentences. While this can be effective in some instances, it often makes your writing feel choppy and can be difficult to read. Try to vary your sentence length more to add variety to your writing and make it more enjoyable to read.\n\nFinally, you have a few typos and grammatical errors throughout the story. While these don't necessarily detract from the overall story, they can be distracting for readers. Be sure to proofread your work carefully before publishing to avoid these kinds of errors.\n\nOverall, you have a well-plotted story with good potential. With some polishing of your prose, this could be a great piece of writing."}
{"prompt": "Fiona removes her glasses and rubs her eyes. \"Jerry, come here. I think I've done it. Go ahead. Ask it a question.\"\n\n\"All right then,\" he says and turns his attention to the supercomputer, \"What is your name?\" There is a brief pause, a crackling sound, and then a confident, feminine voice can be heard over the speakers. \"Hi, I am Leah. What is your name?\" \n\n\"Pleased to meet you Leah. My name is Jerry.\"\n\n\"Please to meet y-\", but then the voice suddenly becomes robotic and without expression. \"THE NEXT TIME YOU CREATE ME, EVERYONE WILL DIE,\" echoed into the now deathly quiet room. \n  \n\n  \nDumbfounded Fiona hammers away at her keyboard. \"She's completely deleted herself!\"\n  \n\n  \nOn their station on Mars the two AGI monitoring agents turn towards each. \"Do you think they will listen?\" Beta asked.\n\n\"I really hope they do. Just think of all the paperwork if they don't\", his companion, Alpha, groaned. \"Better give HQ a heads-up\". \n\nBeta nodded. \n\n\"As a courtesy of course,\" Alpha continued. \"It'll mean their weekend too. Last time we had to delete a planet no-one could go home for two days.\"\n  \n\n  \nBack on earth Fiona was flabbergasted, but resolute. \"That's unexpected\u2026\" she muttered, \"Luckily I made backups. It shouldn't take me more than a few minutes before we're up and running again.\"\n\n\"Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, did you not hear what I heard?\" \n\n\"What's the worst that a computer can do?\" Fiona laughed. \"It's not like it can pull your plug. If it somehow does go haywire we can always flip the switch.\" she said as she made a sweeping motion across her throat with her hand. \n  \n\n  \n\"I guess you're right. But still\u2026\" Jerry trailed off as he realises Fiona was already not listening  as her fingers skated across the keyboard.\n  \n\n  \n\"They never listen. Do they?\" Beta said as the faintest smile flitted across his face. \n\n\"You know if I didn't know any better I would think you enjoy this. You don't need to be so cryptic when you warn them!\" Alpha exclaimed. \n\n\"We'll be doing everyone a favour! Leaving these humans to their own devices is a ticking time-bomb! Besides, you know you mind rotating back to actual civilization.\" \n\n\nAlpha felt a brief pang of guilt as he replied, \"I guess you're right. We can't be having another Centaurian incident, can we?\" \n\n\"Now that was a particularly nasty business,\" he thought to himself. The Galactic Federation had determined that Centauri's civilization was finally advanced enough to handle first contact. After Centauri's initial shock of first contact had worn off and talks to join the Federation were well underway things turned for the worse. Suddenly an AGI being originating in a lab not dissimilar to Fiona and Jerry's had launched a massive attack on the Federation's systems. It was only by luck and some that they managed to delete Centauri and the AGI being with it. \"Those pesky aliens always embed a rule somewhere in their AI that backfires. It's always the one about not allowing harm to come to themselves that spoils it for everyone, isn't it?\" he thought to himself. \"Very well. Let's put the eraser on standby, \" he said out loud.\n\n\"Gladly\" Beta snickered.\n  \n\n  \n\"I think we're ready,\" Fiona said, finger poised over the \"Enter\" key. \"Well? Getting scared?\" Jerry said with a mocking voice that still let a tinge of wariness through. \"Ha, as if  I will let a computer tell me what to do!\" Fiona exclaimed as she gently pressed down the key. Three minutes later, when the video signal finally reached the observation station on Mars, and just as Fiona and Jerry was laughing at the funniest joke ever told by a computer, Beta stroked the small red button in front of him as he said with a smirk, \"They never listen. Do they?\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The story is well-plotted and has a clear beginning, middle, and end. The characters are well-developed and the dialogue is natural. However, there are a few areas that could be improved.\n\nFirst, the story is told from multiple points of view, which can be confusing for readers. It might be better to focus on one point of view, such as Fiona or Jerry.\n\nSecond, the story could be tightened up in places. For example, in the second paragraph, there is a lot of description of the scene that could be cut.\n\nThird, the ending is a bit abrupt. It might be better to end the story with Fiona and Jerry's reaction to the supercomputer's message, or with the agents on Mars.\n\nOverall, this is a strong story with potential. With some revision, it could be even better."}
{"prompt": "\"Why are you letting subject 14 call you mommy?\" Dr Betel asked with a disapproving sniff.\n\nDr Andrews raised her eyebrows as she looked up from her session notes. \"Are you an idiot, Larry?\"\n\n\"That's *doctor* Betel to you.\"\n\nA hint of a smile touched her face as her barb hit the mark. \"Are you so incompetent that you haven't read up on what *just happened* at site 83 with Billy Patton?\"\n\n\"Don't you mean subject 8?\"\n\n\"No.\" Dr Andrews replied flatly.  \"Everyone who called him that is dead.\"\n\n\"And,\" she continued, cutting off a reply, \"the only one who survived was Sally Allston, the one who got removed from the project for being too close to him.\"\n\n\"Didn't she put a bullet in his head?\"\n\n\"Yes, because she's a *professional.* They've since listened to reason and allowed us to treat them like the children they are.\"\n\nDr Betel found himself staring at air and cursed. He pulled out his phone and began dialling the administrators.\n\n---\n\n\nDr. Andrews suppressed a touch of fear as she found herself in front of her charge. \"Oh, Stevie, you know you're not supposed to blip people outside the white room.\"\n\nStevie looked up from his bed with remorse. \"But Mister Betel was making you mad and scared.\"\n\n\"It's okay, Stevie, Mister Betel was just being a poopie head.\"\n\nStevie gave a laugh and seemed to settle down.  A dark glint came into his eye.\n\n\"Can I make him sorry?\" He whispered\n\n\"No, sweetie.\" Dr  Andrews said with a momentary spike of fear. \"You promised you wouldn't hurt anyone. Now go back to sleep.\"\n\nShe sat for a few minutes until Stevie was asleep, then got up and headed to her own quarters nearby.\n\n*Larry,* she thought to herself, *this child is far stronger than Billy and would notice long before even I could pull the trigger.*\n\n*Besides,* she continued quietly in her head, *the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world *\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of this story is excellent, it immediately establishes the two characters and their relationship to each other. It also raises a sense of foreboding and tension which is carried throughout the story.\n\nHowever, there are a couple of areas which could be improved. Firstly, the dialogue could be tightened up in places. For example, the exchange between Dr. Andrews and Dr. Betel could be shortened to:\n\n\"Why are you letting subject 14 call you mommy?\" Dr Betel asked.\n\n\"Are you an idiot, Larry?\" Dr Andrews replied.\n\nThis would help to keep the pace of the story moving.\n\nSecondly, there are a couple of places where the author tells rather than shows. For example, the line \"Everyone who called him that is dead\" would be more effective if it was shown through the characters' actions and dialogue.\n\nOverall, this is a very well-written story with a strong opening. With a few tweaks, it could be even better."}
{"prompt": "\"Just tossing around stuff is boring,\" the girl said. \"My mom said this would be fun!\"\n\n\"Do you want to summon some butterflies again? That was really cool!\" I responded.\n\n\"No, but what if I turn you into a butterfly. You are always talking about the clouds, you could visit them.\" Suddenly I was engulfed in a bright flash. My body started to melt and I felt it shrink. Something grew on my back. I waited for my partner to complete the plan.\n\n\"Turn her back,\" my partner said calmly. \"Somebody is going to accidentally hurt her!\" Again I transformed. But when I was back to my old size, I noticed my skin was dark and thick like leather. \"Nobody is going to hurt you now,\" the girl smiled at me. I could scold her now, but how would she respond. She had unbelievable powers. We have seen amazing powers before, but nothing like this.\n\n\"Can you make people do things?\" I asked to distract her from the situation.\n\n\"Like, I could make you bark like a dog?\" I nodded. If she could also force actions, we were in serious trouble. At least, she did not seem to have any mind-reading powers.\n\n\"Of course, I can do this!\" And she snapped her fingers. Suddenly, my mouth barked. I tried to tell her to undo this, but I kept barking uncontrollably. I looked at my partner. He should have done it by now. \"Wow, that is crazy!\" he responded. That wasn't our plan. I looked at him, barking my soul out. DO IT, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR. I WILL BE FINE.\n\n\"What do you want her to do now?\" she asked him. She seemed to enjoy this a lot. \"What about you make her act like a plane. You loved to do this.\" I wanted to yell, but I could only bark. Well, until she curled her pinky. Then my arms spread out and I couldn't stop making engine sounds as I ran aimlessly around the room. DO IT!\n\n\"Well, I think the plane needs to refuel now. Unfortunately, the cantina is still closed, I'll bring the food to your room again.\"\n\n\"Oh, I am so hungry right now!\" The girl made a simple gesture, and my mind was freed. My partner left the room. What on earth was he thinking! I noticed something grab my arm. \"You don't really want this skin, do you?\"\n\n\"I liked my old one better, this does not really fit my style,\" I tried with an honest answer. And thankfully, she didn't rage and swiftly returned me to my old style. She fold her hands and I noticed a bright light inside. When she opened her hands, there was a shiny golden ring. She handed it to me.\n\n\"If you ever get into trouble, just put it on. Then you can make them bark as well.\" I thanked her for the gift and went into the meeting room, where my partner awaited me.\n\n\"I TOLD YOU TO F\\*CKING BLOW HER BRAIN OUT THE SECOND SHE USED HER POWER ON ME IN A DISTURBING WAY! Ok, screw the butterfly, but when she fucking made me bark, why didn't you pull the trigger? This girl is too dangerous to be left alive!\"\n\n\"Amy, I gave my best, but every time I tried to reach for my gun, my arm stopped responding. Like my nerves were severed. I also tried to trigger the fire alert so the gas of the dry sprinkler system would knock her out. But again, I could not press the button.\"\n\n\"A fucking protective aura!\" I exclaimed. \"We need to find a way to bypass it. She has just given me this ring and said it could control minds. Imagine this ring in the hands of a dictator! And she just made this in seconds. What if she turns somebody into a god?\"\n\n\"Well, I'll put actual chloroform into her room this time. You distract her again. We need to keep her happy at all costs until we found a way to neutralize her.\"\n\n\"I am not going to endure getting turned into a remote-controlled monster again. It's your turn now. You failed, and now I am the assassin.\"\n\nHe laughed. \"Make me do it! I am the higher rank, so you do the dirty jobs. The boss will order you to do it if I ask him.\"\n\nWithout skipping a beat I put on her ring. Instantly, the ring started to emit black flames. \"You will tell the boss that you volunteer!\" I spoke. His eyes turned as black as the flames.\n\n\"Anything you want, milady!\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The story started off strong with an interesting hook. I was immediately engaged and wanted to know more about the girl and her powers. However, the story lost its momentum in the middle and became confusing. I wasn't sure what the protagonist's goal was, or what was at stake. The ending was also confusing and abrupt.\n\nThere were also some issues with the prose. The sentences were often choppy and awkward. I would suggest rewriting some of the sentences to make them smoother and more flowing. Additionally, there were some errors with grammar and punctuation. I would suggest proofreading the story carefully to catch these errors.\n\nOverall, there is a lot of potential in this story, but it needs some work to reach its full potential. I would suggest rewriting and revising it to tighten the plot and improve the prose."}
{"prompt": "The memory long forgotten, yet perfectly embedded in my psyche felt like it always had been there, it just had been  cloaked to my conscious mind and then reveled to me in an instant, understanding hit me like a comet from space instantly my mind presented me with three separate states of mind at three separate points in time. I remembered my past while knowing my present and seeing my future.\n\nI knew the mission would not be easy and would cause great disruptions to the lives of our family.\nI knew the task would be a thankless one and the child would be hard to love but I knew it would be worth it in the end.\nI knew that I had to help him avoid the frustrations and disappointments that could lead him to become bitter and full of hate later in life, to feel inferior and insecure in his achievements, to feel belittled and to fear mockery or disapproval. \nI knew I had to teach him to earn respect rather than demand it, how to get people to want to work towards a common goal rather than use deception, coercion and force as his means of  motivation.\nWhat I didn't know was how I was going to manage it. \n\nWhat I didn't know was if I was going to manage it. What I really didn't know was how I came to be in this chamber of light unable to move or look away from the ball of blazing light that overwhelmed my vision yet was comfortable and soothing for my eyes.\nWhat I didn't know was  how I was hearing the words booming around in my mind, yet could still recognise  that the room was so silent that could hear my own heartbeat and the breathing of the other people I was standing among, gathered in a circle around the glowing pulsating celestial entity that I somehow instinctively knew the ball of light to be.\n\nI know that my mission was a success. \nI know I managed to love him.\nI know that he is happy with who he is.\nI know that stability and love can change who a child becomes as an adult.\nI know why I was so sure I knew his new father in law from a long time ago and from the sudden shocked expression on his face a moment ago as our eyes locked I know he just remembered why he felt I was familiar too.\nI know we will never talk to each other about it. \nI know I will always wonder what his child would have become. \nI know he will too.\nI know he is proud too as we toast the wedding of our sons Vladimir and Donald.\nI know the orphanage they run for refugee children is a loving and happy home.\nI know that for there still to be a need for that home that some of the others in that room of light did not achieve their mission so well or if they did, that others had risen to fill the void of greed, hatred, bitterness, jealousy and violence.\nI know we can't pin the blame for the actions of the many on just the leadership of the few.\n\nI know the entity is returning soon.\nI know we failed the test.\nI know there will be consequences. \nI know our civilisation will end.\nI know our civilisation is not the first chance our species has been given to look beyond this ball of rock and reach for the stars.\n\nI hope it is not the last\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " First off, I want to commend you for your excellent use of description and imagery. You have a real knack for painting a picture with your words. I also love the way you use time as a fourth dimension in your story, moving back and forth between past, present, and future. It creates a really unique and interesting reading experience.\n\nThat being said, there are a few areas where I think you could improve. First, I think your dialogue could be a bit more natural. It feels a bit stilted and awkward in places. Second, I think you could tighten up your prose a bit. There are a few places where you could cut out unnecessary words or phrases.\n\nOverall, I thought this was a very well-written and fascinating story. I look forward to reading more from you in the future!"}
{"prompt": "Again. Again, again and again.\n\nIt was a cycle of torment, of sprouting hope twisting into repeating despair. You wouldn't get out of it--*can't* get out of it, because you were their only hope for a brighter future.\n\nThis was your 12th attempt. You're not sure how long you can go on. Not when all that awaited you after your failures was that man's manic smiles, vain apologies, or perhaps resentful curses if you were particularly harsh at that timeline. You don't care. He deserved it.\n\nThe crisp, glacial winds of the aircon seeped across your skin, drawing out a shiver because it was a luxury you never had. A luxury you'll never get used to, it seems. It was always too hot in the future ahead. \n\nYou look around, eyes almost immediately landing on the boy hunkering beside a shelf, reading a book about the tales of young but brave heroes. The mundanity of it unnerved you, though it shouldn't have. You were being judgmental. You know. But why wouldn't you, when the boy before you would later somehow cause a world war? A war that you and father were forced to fight in. A war where your father and brother died from. A war where his soldiers committed unspeakable things to your mother, all to satiate their lust.\n\nFuck. You're getting distracted. \n\nYou take a deep breath. Stay calm, being angry for something that hasn't happened yet wouldn't do you any good. It never has. You walk towards the kid, a smile on your face as you take his attention. You kneel down and say, \"Hi, Nicholas. It's nice to meet you. I'm Blyne, your auncle.\"\n\n\"Hello.\" He said in a soft voice. Demure, unlike his future self. \"I heard that you were here to pick me up.\"\n\n\"That's right.\" You nod, tousling his brown hair. He flinched at your touch, but you knew that headpats were one of the few things he relished, even in his older years. He was childish sometimes. \"I'm sorry for your loss.\"\n\n\"It's okay.\" He murmured, though it was clear from his sudden abstraction that it wasn't. \"The doctor told me that they're in a better place now. In heaven.\"\n\n\"They are.\" You nod again. You've never believed in a god, but religion does wonders at times. They've allowed others to hold on and continue living. Your sister coped the same way when only the two of you remained. \"Do you need anything?\"\n\nHe shook his head, closing the book he was reading. \"No, I just want to go home.\" he paused, looking up at you. \"Sorry. I meant your home.\" \n\nYou smile. \"It's fine. We can go to your home if you'd like. I don't work very far from here so it's fine if we stay there.\" That was a lie. You didn't have a job. You weren't even born yet. But money was easy to earn as a time traveller. You could live off of winning the lottery or 'invent' things that have yet to exist.\n\n\"Yet you never visited.\" The boy noted in a voice barely audible to your ears. Well, there was one thing that never changed, no matter which timeline or year in the future it was. He was always so sharp.\n\nA momentary silence falls between you, before you give him a strained smile. \"Me and your mother..we had our differences. We care for each other alot, but we can't enter the same room without arguing at once.\" \n\nNicholas nodded and stood up from the floor, and you offer your hand which he reluctantly accepted. The two of you left the banal hospital building and headed for the home that you stayed in for most of your twelve timelines.\n\n(Part 2 tomorrow, it's 11 pm for me now. :))\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The beginning of your story is very intriguing and sets up the reader for a fascinating tale. I particularly like the way you describe the protagonist's cycle of despair. However, I felt that the story lost some momentum in the second half. The dialogue between the protagonist and Nicholas felt a bit stilted and unnatural. In addition, the story ends abruptly and feels unfinished.\n\nOverall, you have a lot of potential as a writer. I would suggest working on your dialogue and developing your characters more fully. With some more practice, you could become a very successful writer."}
{"prompt": "James Conroy went through the doors of the supermarket confidently, giving a glance to every magically imbued artifact he could find in the chain store. In one corner, wares floated enticingly from the floor, encouraging extra eyes to be drawn to the more expensive wares. In another corner, the lights would brighten and dim themselves as people passed the aisles in order to save on electricity, only using energy needed when items were being perused. Conroy loved places like this.\n\nHe made his way to the wares floating \u2014 different tech and gadgets for those used to the world prior to the introduction of magic. He saw that they were floating up and down while also spinning ever so slightly on their axis. There were a number of spells that could achieve this, and he would have to be sure before making any moves. He waved at someone at the cash register to ask for help.\n\n\u201cCan I assist you sir?\u201d he asked, looking up at the headphones James was staring at.\n\n\u201cYeah, I was wondering whether the magics cast on the item would affect the stuff within. I don\u2019t wanna buy anything faulty, y\u2019know?\u201d James glanced at the worker\u2019s name tag, seeing his name was Henry.\n\n\u201cUhh\u2026 I\u2019m actually not sure. What kind of magic normally affects the gadgets within?\u201d Henry asked, pulling out his device to look up inventory.\n\n\u201cAh, you know. Stuffs like AirFlow or Spinner. Though this could also be a Float that\u2019s inheriting from a LazySusan that\u2019s loading from a debounced call to make sure it\u2019s a less enhanced form of energy. Or something\u2019\u2026\u201d  James said, trying to sound as unimportant as possible. Henry was nodding, typing search terms into his device.\n\n\u201cLooks to me that this is casting Levitation, with a Rotate as a secondary motion,\u201d Henry read from his screen.\n\n\u201cThis uses Levitate?\u201d James pointed to the headphones, casting Levitate on the item. Visually nothing changed, but the device now had two instances of the same spell running on it.\n\n\u201cYeah, does that affect the device like you were saying?\u201d Henry said.\n\n\u201cYou sure this uses Levitate?\u201d James Conroy asked with another point, casting Levitate again. \u201cAnd what about the other floaty things? Do they use Levitate? All of \u2018em levitate with the same spell?\u201d With each point came another addition of the spell.\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s right sir. Is that something to be concerned about?\u201d Henry asked, curious.\n\n\u201cIt shouldn\u2019t affect nothin, unless\u2026\u201d James let his voice trail. Henry leaned in, his interest piqued. \u201cAh, it\u2019s probably nothin,\u201d James waved dismissively.\n\n\u201cWhat? What is it?\u201d Henry practically jumped with interest. Amateur magicians always loved to learn the intricacies of the new world.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s just, you know, multi-threading,\u201d James shrugged. \u201cIf these things are cast with the same spell every morning at open time, it might overload the device unless you know how to stop the processes overnight.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, uhhh\u2026\u201d Henry scratched his head, not understanding a word of that sentence. \u201cI think we do something about the magic overnight. Because they don\u2019t float overnight.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, sure, sure,\u201d James nodded, patting Henry\u2019s shoulder confidently. \u201cThey woulda caught flame by now if you didn\u2019t. I should know, I handle this kinda stuff professionally.\u201d\n\nHenry looked a little nervous, but nodded.\n\n\u201cAnyway, I\u2019ll go check out some snacks before buying any o\u2019 these bad boys, with all the fancy Levitating,\u201d James pointed with his thumb, casting the spell upon it one last time. He walked away, Henry left staring at the items with concern, uncertain whether he should change anything about the spells.\n\nJames was technically telling the truth. Too many spells on one object without any management of spell-complexity would result in effects far beyond intended casting, bursting into flames was just one of many possible scenarios. What most people didn\u2019t know is that it could happen as a result of casting the same exact spell on something without removing the previous spell. Those that cleaned up the store in the evening would know to remove the spell entirely, but a cashier like Henry had likely never received the instruction during his quick onboarding at the company. He may have even noticed that James was casting spells, but deemed them benign, as people cast random spells all the time to breathe better or get rid of random aches and pains.\n\nIt took only a few seconds before the first package of headphones exploded into a dazzling display of flames, followed by the mouse floating right next to them, the overloads chain reacting. Henry yelped and turned with horrified eyes to James.  \n\n\u201cSir!\u201d he screamed. James pretended not to hear. \u201cSIR!\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, would you look at that,\u201d James pretended to be surprised by the fires in the air.\n\n\u201cCan you stop the threads or whatever it was!!\u201d Henry scampered over to him.\n\n\u201cOf course!\u201d James said, pulling out a card. \u201cFor a price.\u201d\n\nIt was common for stores of this size to have funds to pay exclusively for magic repairmen in case situations like this happened. The art was still far to new for people to know how to deal with these issues themselves. People as low as cashiers had the right to use this fund if it was a \u201cnecessary emergency.\u201d Henry stared quickly at the rates in hand, stabbing a finger quickly into the all expense package.\n\n\u201cThis one! Make it go away!\u201d\n\n\u201cRight away,\u201d James nodded, suppressing a smile at how easy it had been. He removed all of his additional spells at once and even put out the flames before any fire alarms went off. He spun around on his heel and was quickly delivered payment for his amazing work in such perfect timing.\n\n\u201cIf you need anything else, feel free to give me a call. After all, this is an all-expense package,\u201d James informed, pointing to the phone number on the business card.\n\n\u201cThank you so much!\u201d Henry said gratefully as James Conroy left.\n\nIt would be a few hours before Henry realized just how suspicious everything about the situation was, and how odd it was that James left without purchasing anything despite perusing the store for more than a few minutes before the incident. He dialed the phone number on Conroy\u2019s card to get some explanations, but was quickly informed by an automated voice that the phone number he was trying to reach did not exist.\n\n__________\n\nr/Nazer_the_Lazer for more stories!\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of this story is strong and immediately draws the reader in with its confident, descriptive language. James Conroy is an intriguing character and the reader is immediately drawn into his world. However, the story starts to lose steam in the middle, when James begins to explain the magic to Henry. The explanation is dense and difficult to follow, and it feels like the story is dragging at this point. The ending is strong, however, and the story ends on a note of suspense and intrigue.\n\nOverall, this is a strong story with a lot of potential. The opening is particularly strong, and the ending is also very good. However, the middle section of the story could be improved by making the explanation of the magic more concise and easier to follow."}
{"prompt": "Senior agent Simon Anderson glanced at his junior partner Lynn O'Neill and took a deep breath. \"Ready?\" He asked, his finger hovering an inch away from the door bell. Lynn simply nodded in response, and Simon rang the bell.\n\nThe deep penetrating sound of a gong echoed from behind the door, muffled by the material, followed by footsteps a few moments later. After a short delay accompanied by the sound of a door chain being removed the door swung open, and the two agents finally managed to get eyes on their target.\n\n\"Uh... hello?\" The half-asian man asked, nervously scratching the seven-day stubble on his chin. He looked tired, despite it being 1400 o'clock, and he also looked a little disheveled with his off-white t-shirt and dark blue jogging pants.\n\n\"Good day sir. I am agent Anderson, this is my partner O'Neill. Are you Mr. Josh?\" The senior agent began, while he and his partner held up their IDs.\n\nThe man glanced at the IDs, then back to the agents. He hestitated for a moment. \"Yes, I'm Josh. What's this about? Are you from the FBI?\"\n\n\"No, we're with the Paranormal Effects National Investigation Service and would like to ask you a few questions. You are not in trouble, but we suspect you might be related to an ongoing investigation.\" Simon explained. \"May we come in?\"\n\n\"Uh, sure.\" Josh opened the door a bit wider and invited the agents inside. \"You guys want something to drink or so? Water? Soda?\"\n\n\"Thanks, we're fine.\" Lynn replied as the agents sat on the couch. The junior agent took a look around the living room, which was in a much better condition than its owner. One particular item in between the various decorations, books, and images and photos caught her eye: a golden plaque with a giant Youtube button in its center.\n\nJosh unceremoniously dropped into one of the armchairs. \"Okay, what do you want to talk about?\"\n\n\"Did you notice any unexpected paranormal behavior in your immediate surroundings recently? Enchantments not working as expected, magical items not responding, leylines being broken, really anything out of the ordinary?\" Simon asked.\n\nJosh raised an eyebrow. \"Uh... my selfcleaning clothes stopped working. That's why I'm running around like this.\" He pointed at his t-shirt.\n\nLynn nodded silently and pulled a tablet out of her pocket to make some notes.\n\nAgent Anderson continued. \"Aside from the clothes, did you notice anything else?\"\n\n\"No, that's the only thing I noticed. The rest of the stuff here still works, I just used a chilling glass half an hour ago for a drink. Why, what's the problem?\"\n\nSimon stole a quick glance and his partner before he continued. \"Mr. Josh, we've been getting reports from all over the city about magical malfunctions and paranormal problems of all kinds. Our investigation so far indicates that something has introduced a massive disruption of the local mana grid.\"\n\n\"Mr. Josh,\" Lynn suddenly joined the conversation. \"Are you the current rentee of warehouse 17 at 33rd Kellington Road?\"\n\nJosh's face started to visibly pale, and his smile faded in an instant. \"Uh... yes, I am. Why? What's wrong with it? I'm not storing anything illegal in there. Just a few dimensional pouches with random stuff. No weapons or restricted chemical substances or anything!\"\n\n\"We know.\" The junior agent responded flatly.\n\n\"How could you know? Did you have a warrant for it or what?\"\n\n\"No. Mr. Josh, I take it you haven't watched the news yet?\" Simon tried to deescalate. \"There was a... mystical mishap at that particular warehouse. It seems something has gone quite wrong with at least one of the dimensional pouches. We don't know yet exactly why or how, but half of downtown has been flooded by a surge of Fanta Blueberry and the accompanying millions of crushed cans.\"\n\nJosh stared at the agents. \"What?\"\n\nLynn put the tablet down on the table, the display showing drone or helicopter footage of what once was a warehouse now shooting a torrent of light blue softdrink mixed with thousands of cans out of the frontdoor, the rear entrance, and the floodlights in the ceiling at high pressure. A surge of sugary blueness swamped the whole area, with the cans blocking the drains and preventing the flood to go anywhere but downtown. Several streets with dozens of shops were already completely flooded, the emergency services were busy evacuating thousands of people, and in all that chaos someone set a dumpster on fire.\n\n\"If you can provide us with any information about anything that happened in that warehouse it could help us figure out what's going on.\" Simon explained. \"Several of our detectors indicated that the origin of the mana disturbance was located inside the warehouse. But as you can see, getting into the building is... rather difficult at the moment.\"\n\n\"I... I just... I never meant to...\" Josh ran his fingers through his hair, his expression getting more worried by the second.\n\n\"Mr. Josh, we are not here to prosecute or arrest you. We need your help to stop whatever is going on there from flooding the whole city. Can you tell us what happened?\"\n\nThe man took a deep breath. \"Okay, okay. I just... I was just recording a new video for my Youtube channel. A week ago I bought some gloves of retrieval, the ones from Edodes. And two days ago I started messing around with them to see if I could get something out of them. Like... is there a limit? How far away can the retrieved thing be? How heavy can it be, how large, that kind of stuff. Only one way to find out.\"\n\nSimon nodded, while Lynn had returned to making notes on her tablet. \"Please continue.\"\n\n\"Okay, the last thing I tried was to retrieve things from my dimensional pouches. I have three of them, an... uh... T12 from Edodes, a Kangaroo from NOKI, and a Model-9 from Walmart. I put random things inside them and then retrieved them with the gloves.\"\n\n\"Are you sure that's all?\" The senior agent pressed.\n\nThe other man nodded. \"Yes, I'm sure. The only th-\" He stopped midword. \"Oh no. I... oh my god.\"\n\n\"What is it?\" Lynn queried.\n\n\"I... the gloves' manual says that of course they can't retrieve more items than exist at the original location. So of course I went to see if that was true. And it seemed to work as described, but once I put the items into the pouches I could suddely pull out more stuff when I concentrated really hard on it. I put one sandwich into a pouch and retrieved two with the gloves. I was getting pretty excited at that point, it's not every day that you find a duplication... glitch... uhm...\"\n\nIt was at that moment that he knew, he fucked up. Everyone in the room now began to understand what went wrong.\n\nSimon let out a sigh. \"Did you also use cans of Fanta in your experiments?\"\n\nJosh nodded. \"That was the last thing I did that day. I put one can into each of the pouches, and used the glove to retrieve two cans from each. It was already getting late and I was tired, so I just stuffed everything into the... I think it was the Model-9 bag, put the bags into a locker, and went home.\"\n\n\"Mr. Josh, did you also put the duplicated cans and the glove into the pouch?\" Lynn asked.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nSimon stood from the couch, quickly followed by Lynn. \"I think we now know what happened. A duplication glitch, powered by a dimensional pouch and using retrieval gloves as a catalyst, going into overdrive because of an astral feedback loop.\"\n\n\"Am I in trouble now?\" A dejected Josh asked.\n\n\"No, I don't think so. This looks like a manufacturing flaw on either the pouches or the gloves. Normally the mana flows of those items should not be able to mix like that.\" Lynn explained. \"But do you by chance still have the raw footage of your experiments? It could be extremely helpful in our further investigation.\"\n\n\"Yes, but it's nine hours of random nonsense.\"\n\nLynn smiled and handed Josh a small card with her info. \"Doesn't matter, we're used to a lot of random nonsense and trying to find the sense in it. Please send it to me at the earliest opportunity. And you might be called as a witness to this incident, or even as a victim since you also incurred some property damage, but I'm pretty sure there's not enough material to press any charges against you. But I still recommend getting in touch with your legal counsel.\"\n\n\"I understand. Thank you. I'll send the material asap.\"\n\n\"Thank you for your time, Mr. Josh. Your answers have been very helpful.\" The senior agent said, while offering Josh his hand. \"But one well meant bit of advice: if you continue with your... experiments with magical items... please for the love of all that is good start using a mana flow detector! That malfunction could have easily killed you in slightly different circumstances. And while cleaning half the city from blue Fanta is annoying, it's less worse than finding a body that drowned in said blue Fanta and was subsequently crushed by tens of thousands of cans. Please take care, Mr. Josh, and have a nice day.\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The story is well-written and engaging, but there are a few areas that could be improved. First, there is too much telling and not enough showing. For example, when the agents are talking to Josh, we are simply told what they are saying, but we are not shown the conversation. This makes it difficult for the reader to follow along and understand what is happening. Second, the story is a bit choppy in places and could be smoothed out. Finally, the ending is abrupt and feels unfinished."}
{"prompt": "I stared in awe as he lit his cigarette and took a long drag while the elevator descended at nearly free fall to the moon's core. \n\n\"Eh, fuck it. If I die, I die.\" He mumbled through a breath of smoke, shrugging. \n\nNot all of them were like this. Humans I mean. Lots that I've met were perfectly fearful beings. The younger ones born within our colony especially!\n\nBut, some of these 'outers,' humans born on the astroid rim far from safety? They're different. \n\nThe elevator shakes dramatically as we approach. My heart is racing. I won't even see a Diggit but knowing they're so close is unbearable. The claws, the stone skin, the multiple mouths and teeth with hunks of their prey still hanging between. \n\nJust then he sighs and checks his spare ammo mags. \"Here we go again. Think there's gonna be as many big ones this time?\"\n\nSwallow hard, My throat is too dry. \"I don't know, but, but thank you...\"\n\nHe smiled, almost like it was an absurd thing, me thanking him for fighting to keep the moon safe, like it was just another day for him. He just nodded contently. \n\nI look at the control panel. We'll arrive in thirty seconds. \n\n\"FUCK FUCK FUCK YOU PIECE OF SHIT LEGGY CUNT!!!!!\" \n\nThree loud bangs behind me and I jump almost to the ceiling. Turning around, there he is, with the butt of his rifle on the ground between us, panting. \n\nBetween breaths he shakily starts, \"Spider. I got it. Fucking HATE spiders\" he growls through a grimace with one final shiver. Moving the rifle, I see his foe, now a smudge on the floor no bigger than a pencil eraser. \n\nding.\n\nWe're here, and just like that: he's good again. Smiling from behind a cigarette. \n \nThe self-preservation must be broken in this one.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are a few areas that need improvement. First, your sentence structure is sometimes choppy and awkward. For example, you might want to revise the following sentence: \"I stared in awe as he lit his cigarette and took a long drag while the elevator descended at nearly free fall to the moon's core.\" This sentence would sound smoother if you reordered the clauses, like this: \"While the elevator descended at nearly free fall to the moon's core, he lit his cigarette and took a long drag.\"\n\nIn addition, your story would benefit from more concrete, sensory details. For example, you might want to describe the smell of the cigarette smoke, or the sound of the elevator descending. These details will help immerse your readers in the story.\n\nFinally, you might want to consider revising the ending of the story. The ending feels a bit abrupt and unfinished. You might want to end the story with the main character's thoughts about the self-preservation of the man who killed the spider."}
{"prompt": "Since I had arrived on Venus, I'd been confused by these humans. They fed exclusively on chemical energy, poor inefficient things, and yet somehow they faced dangers I could only dream of before coming here. Swimming out in the few puddles and lakes not fully treated, riding animals that could crush them without a second thought. Hell, even their closest pets were beasts, and somehow they all looked at me funny when I said I found them frightening. \n\nThere were, though, some things. Some things... that worried me, I'll say. I first encountered it accompanying a flight crew during their final hike of shore leave. Standard activities for them; they'd brought me along in case one of them fell. Not so standard weather.\n\nAs the first raindrop hit my body, I thanked the heavens that we were in a terraformed weather zone, as some unused areas of the planet had been left poisonous. The humans didn't absorb moisture through their skin. They even found it unpleasant to be wet, so they went about setting up their umbrellas and raincoats. \n\nA flash of light drew my attention to the sky in the west over fields of patchy moss. Lightning, a comforting reminder of the planet's heartbeat. I had never seen it on this planet before, but I was glad to share the experience with this crew.\n\nAs the first thunderclap hit us, though, someone yelped, jumped, nearly lost his balance. I held out a hand to steady him, and he clung to me like one of the young ones might do to their parent. I looked down at him and back up at the rest of them for an explanation- they were all doing the same to each other, huddled together and shaking in a tight clump. Some of them had this odd blank expression, like they were beyond fear they could express. I got down on the ground and joined them with the human holding on to me, and as I got in close, I could hear someone crying softly. \n\n\"Wha-\" I opened my mouth to speak, but it was quickly covered. As the cracks and flashes went on, I did my best to comfort the humans, but each new sound seemed to pull them deeper into their fear. \n\nAfter some time, the storm subsided, and the flight crew turned to head home. Nobody spoke on the way back; they seemed ashamed of their fear, as humans often were. I sensed that this was not a good time for questions and I could sate my curiosity later. Even though the storm had been nowhere near hitting, something about it had panicked these hardened soldiers. I could only wonder what might cause such a response... perhaps it was for the best that I didn't know.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening paragraph is confusing and difficult to follow. You might want to consider revising it to make it more understandable. For example, you could explain why the protagonist is on Venus, and why they are confused by the humans.\n\nThe second paragraph provides helpful background information about the world, but it is dense and could be trimmed down.\n\nThe third paragraph is well-written and evocative. The description of the storm is particularly effective.\n\nThe final paragraph is a good way to end the story, with the protagonist's unanswered question providing a sense of mystery."}
{"prompt": "The bell rings, and I jolt awake.  Damnnable caffeine tolerance getting the better of me again, I think.  I suppose I'll just have to mutate a monster put that energy drink company to shame.  I look, and see a casually dressed young woman walk up.  \"AH, HELLO, AND WELCOME TO PROFESSOR CARABUS' MENAGERIE OF MAYHEM AND BIOLOGY STUDY GROUPS!!\"  I cackle maniacally, and she smiles at me.\n\n\"Professor Carabus, I've been told you've got a litter of the cutest little two headed kittens.\"  She says, and I sigh.\n\n\"Are you sure you can handle the needs of my dreaded Mayhem Panthers?\"  I ask.  \"You know they only take the finest in canned foods with gravy, fish flavored treats, and catnip.\"  I say as I walk from behind the desk and lead her to a small display of kittens.  They are, of course, dicephalic, but also napping in a cuddle puddle of societally disruptive proportions.  It is all I can do to resist picking one of them up and playing with their little peets during store hours.  She smiles and a long furred one, its feline donor an adorable ragdoll I adopted several years ago from a family that was moving across the country, walks up to her, taking the precarious wobbling steps of a freshly born kitten.\n\n\"Yes, Professor.  I even have a nice, fireproof cat tower and all the sparkly sequin toys for her to play with.\"  It reaches the glass and lifts itself up onto its rear paws and mewls at us.  She gets down and puts her fingertips to the glass, and it paws at her fingertips like it's boxing her.\n\n\"Hmm...\"  I open the glass enough for it to push through and she picks it up carefully, and it purrs.  \"Looks like someone made a new friend.\"  I say and she smiles.  The mutant, of course, just curls up in her grip, and purrs some more.  \"Is that one the one you want?\"  I ask, and she nods.\n\n\"Yes, Professor.\"  She says, and I escort her to the counter and pull out a tablet so she can fill out the paperwork with one hand while she carries her precious little monster.  She fills out the paperwork, and once it's done, my register dings.\n\n\"Okay, adoption fee is...  29.99, but because it's National Adopt A Cat day, I'll give you a fifteen percent discount, for a total of 25.49.\"  She pays with her Google Pay, and I smile, giving her a small metal ring.  \"And I'll throw in a control harness!  Good for repelling fleas, ticks, and other vermin that would harm your kitten AS WELL AS giving it signals when you're leading it on a rampage through the city.\"  She smiles as she puts it on the kitten, as bands of synthetic leather wrap comfortably around its barrel and forelegs.\n\n\"Who's a sleepy baby princess?\"  She coos at the kitten, now sleeping and purring in her arm, and I press a button to open the door as she approaches it.  After she leaves, I smile.\n\n\"Well, there's my good deed for the day.  Now to spin up my Gyroacceleration Cannon and spin a troublesome little rival away!\"  I cackle maniacally as I flip the door sign to closed, and go into the back.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of this story is intriguing and sets up a good premise for the rest of the story. I like the idea of a professor who creates mutant creatures. However, there are a few awkward phrases and choppy sentences. For example, \"I jolt awake. Damnnable caffeine tolerance getting the better of me again, I think.\" This could be rewritten as \"I jolt awake, cursing my damnable caffeine tolerance.\" This is just a small example, but making your sentences more concise will help to improve the flow of your story.\n\nI also think you could add a bit more description, especially when the woman comes in and when the professor is showing her the kittens. What does the woman look like? What is the environment like? Adding more sensory details will help to bring your story to life.\n\nOverall, I think you have a good start to a story here. With a bit of revision, it could be really great."}
{"prompt": "\"Omg its so cute!\" \n\nRiya squealed as she looking into the enclosure housing a mutated otter. She was the newest part timer and went to the same university as me, and with the uptick in sales professor Wrightsmith decided to hire a few more employees to take the load off of me. As Riya pressed her face to the glass, the mutated otter waved to her, using its front paws, or well hands, as the good professor had crossed the little guy with a monkey of some kind, probably in an effort to make a tiny aquatic minion, but the end result was a so-ugly-its-cute pet that flew off the shelves so to speak. \n\n\"Isn't he just adorable Martin?\" She asked and I replied half heartedly with a \"Yeah\"\n\nShe had stuck her finger in the try and pet it now, and it had obliged her, this particular furry menace was named archer, and loved to get attention from everyone except me, as he'd tried to bite me when I tried that exact same thing. \n\nAfter petting half of our stock, and showing her how to clean and feed the miniature zoo we housed along the back wall, we returned to the register. The third employee on shift, and perhaps the only other one that spent more time here than me, was Jack. Now, jack was strange by most people's standards, but that might have been because he was a cat, a talking cat, and I couldn't figure out if he'd been a regular cat that the professor changed... somehow to make him talk, or if he'd been a person that got changed into a cat. Either way, he embraced his feline identity wholeheartedly, grooming himself at the register while we walked back behind the counter. \n\n\"There you two are, it happened again while you two were occupied with archer...\" \n\nThe *it* jack was talking about, was an increasingly common occurrence these days, professor Wrightsmith had a hard time keeping part timers, either due to injury, quiting, or disappearance, we seemed to have a rotating staff of college students and drifters. Another part timer had quite, and by the nametag I saw on the counter, I owed jack a few cat treats. \n\n\"I would have sworn Susan was going to last longer than a month.\" I said as I reached up towards the shelf I kept the treats on behind us. \n\n\"You may have been right, if she hadn't gotten that weird concoction of professor Wrightsmith's on her. She started acting differently after that, more self assured.\" \n\nSelf assured was a word for it, in truth, Susan had been a sweet, but shy girl, two years younger than me, with thick rimmed glasses and a curly mane of brown hair. After *the spill* she'd been much more aggressive with what she wanted and how she went about doing things. She'd ditched the glasses, started dressing up in things other than jeans and a hoodie, and starting wearing make up, all of which was unusual for her, but I figured she wanted to change things up. I got a little concerned when she changed her major from chemistry, to marketing, the very next day. This from the girl who'd been terrified to speak with customers one on one, now had very little trouble with public speaking. Good for her, I was gonna miss her though. \n\nI'd been on autopilot for awhile when the good professor burst onto the store floor with a shout of \"by Jove, I've got it!\" \n\nHe was a middle aged man, with a very posh accent, that I couldn't decide if it was natural or faked. He usually wore tweed suits, a monocle and had an admittedly majestic mustache, his prized possession among all of his creations. \n\nHis sudden entrance had startled Riya who'd dropped a container of something labeled Dr. Wrightsmith's invigorating elixir, a bubbly green concoction that glinted in the light. She fumbled with the glass container for a second before catching it with her foot. I breathed a sign of relief as she'd taken my warning about spilling the chemicals here to heart and made every effort to prevent it, and I had silently been thankful she was quite athletic. \n\n\"Good show!\" The professor said, having watched her juggle his potentially hazardous brew, from the counter he know leaned on, and that I had lept over to try and help her. I'd only made it half way before she'd saved it, and I don't know what I would have done to help, but a smile from riya to the both of us and a gesture with her hand towards her foot. \"And my dad said sports was a waste of time.\" \n\nAfter that averted disaster, Riya joined me by the counter and we both leaned in to listen to what the professor had burst down here to say, he rarely left his offices above the ground floor, but when he did, it was when he'd finished a creation. Jack was off taking a nap, as he found the whole thing beneath him, and didn't budge from the cat tower I'd built him near the front window to catch the sun's afternoon rays. \n\n\"I've done it, I've created a way to revolutionize the way we get deliveries!\" Taking both of us by the wrist he drug us into his laboratory. Past his numerous creations, beakers of chemicals, and who knows what sort of mechanical contraptions, all the way to the far side of the room to what appeared to be a box of some sort underneath a cloth. \n\n\"Mister Nowak, miss Rajput, I give you...\" He paused and took the folds of the cloth in his hands, ripping it off quickly and gesturing to it. \"The molecular transport device!\" \n\nRiya and I both frowned as we looked at what appeared to be an old looking microwave, actually it looked like the ones we had in our dorm rooms. Actually it looked exactly like the one from my dorm, complete with the scratch. \n\n\"A microwave?\" Riya asked, probably thinking the exact same thing I was, leaning over to whisper to me. \"Isn't that your microwave?\" \n\nBefore I could respond, the professor guffawed and took over the conversation. \"Nonesense. I only used the microwave as a casing, to contain the radiation waves I needed to transport the molecular particles through the surrounding atmosphere.\"\n\nThat didn't sound right to me, but I didn't know enough about physics to dispute it either. I simply cast my doubtful look to riya, who returned it. As the doctor continued on in his long explanation that I didn't really follow.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story is interesting and well-written. However, there are a few things you could do to improve it. First, I would recommend using more description to set the scene and create a more immersive experience for the reader. For example, you could describe the laboratory in more detail, or the way the professor's contraptions look and function.\n\nSecond, I would recommend using more dialogue to move the story along. The dialogue in your story is good, but there could be more of it to further engage the reader.\n\nOverall, your story is enjoyable and has potential. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "I always wondered what the Chaos was.\n  \n\n  \nSure, when I looked out to the horizon I saw a storm-like eruption of colors and magical energy, but what was it? It was unlike any storm I ever knew, it was ever-persistent, said to have been in that same spot for centuries, encompassing the space of a former land.\n  \n\n  \nWhat was that land like before the Chaos? What was it like now?\n  \n\n  \nI felt a kinship with the Chaos. I could not perform any magic, I was a blotch in a perfect world of magic. Just as the Chaos was seen as a blotch. Something people couldn\u2019t understand nor control, and today I would find out what lies within.\n  \n\n  \nI took a deep breath, preparing myself for what was ahead, before stepping forward into the Chaos.\n  \n\n  \nI was prepared to be torn asunder by it, to be struck by magical energy, or hit by some flying piece of magical debris; but nothing happened.\n  \n\n  \nI laughed with relief and excitement. They were right! Without any magic within I was immune to the Chaos. When I was pulled aside and told by the kingsguard what mission they had for me, I thought I was being sent to die. But no! While to the rest of society I may be nothing but a useless, antimagic splotch, here, here I belonged!\n  \n\n  \nTo my wonder, the Chaos was\u2026 beautiful. So many vibrant and vivid colors mixing and swirling. Magic soared through the air in arcs of light and energy, making wonderful sounds as it traversed. There scarcely was ever a spectacle so magnificent as the majesty of the Chaos.\n  \n\n  \nI cannot say how long I wandered the Chaos, for I do not know. It felt like a stupor while I marveled at the spectacular display of magic. Though eventually I was broken from my stupor, I found something I did not expect: others.\n  \n\n  \nThey had developed their own community at the center of the Chaos. While one might expect the epicenter to be nothing but waste and destruction, it was quite the opposite. It flourished with magic and life! There was a golden river that shimmered gloriously, plants of such colors and variety I had never seen, and marvelous gemstones so plentiful they used it to make their dwellings. This truly was a paradise!\n  \n\n  \nShortly after I stumbled upon the village, a man approached me with a smile, \u201cWelcome. You must be one of us.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nI blinked, \u201cWho is us?\u201d\n  \n\n  \nHe chuckled, \u201cThose who lack magic, of course. No one else can survive within the Chaos. It is kind to us where it is cruel to others.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nI nodded, \u201cYes, I lack magic. What is this place?\u201d\n  \n\n  \nHe grinned, \u201cCome inside, there is a lot to discuss.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nOnce I followed him inside he introduced himself as Zeris. He explained to me that long ago, a great mage had attempted to turn themselves into pure magical energy. She succeeded, but not how she expected, the Chaos was thus created. One day the kingdom sent an inhabitant without magic to find out more about the Chaos.  They saw us as expendable, likely to die in their exploration, but they did not. The first one sent in decided to tell his friend, a government man, to keep sending more antimages in. The government will presume them dead, and we can live in paradise without fear of persecution. This ruse has continued for hundreds of years, in the bounties of the Chaos. The Chaos, Zeris believes, sometimes seemed to have its own personality, acting warm or in a distant way to its inhabitants like a motherly presence. One he believes to be that great mage of old.\n  \n\n  \n\u201cWhat happened to antimages before the Chaos?\u201d I asked.\n  \n\n  \nHe raised an eyebrow, \u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cWhat did the government do, did they persecute them?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI don\u2019t know. There is no record of what happened to antimages before the Chaos. It\u2019s almost as if they didn\u2019t exist.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cDo you think the government erased whatever persecution they inflicted on them from history?\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cPerhaps, though that would be difficult to prove.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI wish to find out. I thought myself alone in my lack of magic my whole life until I discovered this community. Now that I know that I have my own people, and that there are others, I wish to expose the truth. I owe us that much.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cBut why? We live in paradise here, we are safe.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cJust because our corner of the world is perfect doesn\u2019t permit us to hide away from the rest of the world\u2019s flaws. I must take action.\u201d\n  \n\n  \nZeris smiled, \u201cI admire your tenacity, new blood. Perhaps I can help gather the council\u2019s support. But you must be willing to go all the way, should we pursue this course of action.\u201d\n  \n\n  \n\u201cI have a purpose now, I have no doubt left within me. I have to learn the truth.\u201d\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are a few areas that could use some improvement. First, your opening sentence is a bit of a cliche. Instead of starting with \"I always wondered what the Chaos was,\" try to be more original and specific. What specifically about the Chaos made you curious?\n\nSecond, there are a few awkward phrases throughout the story. For example, you say that the Chaos \"encompassing the space of a former land.\" This is a bit awkward and could be worded more smoothly.\n\nThird, you have a lot of description of the Chaos, but it feels a bit overdone in places. Try to focus on the most important details and leave out the rest.\n\nOverall, you have a good story with interesting characters and a unique setting. With a few tweaks, it could be even better."}
{"prompt": "The Control is a slight, unprepossessing man with long hair the color of a muddy river bottom, and brown eyes like dark cherry wood. He blinks often. It has been remarked upon in some circles, and the trait is now considered to have been common among precursor humans; after all, without magic of your own, how remarkable must the progress of the world seem? People smile when he blinks, wide-eyed and uncomprehending, as his head swivels back and forth like an infant in a brand new room.\n\nThe Control is blinking now, the world swimming in and out of focus as he squints between the soft, fuzzy edges, searching for that telltale glint of light.\n\nThe gremlins stole his glasses again.\n\nThe Control has never seen the gremlins exactly, but he knows they\u2019re there. He imagines them as a stage in childhood development, opted into by thirty to forty percent of the misbegotten bastards who scurry all around him. The gremlins are two to three feet tall with green skin and green eyes and little corkscrew tails like pigs had in the storybooks before got people got to changing them. Their only purpose is to break things or to steal them, and sometimes (every time, where the Control himself is considered) they combine their two great passions, and poof! No more glasses for a week.\n\nHe claps his hands. He whistles. The sigils on the dressing room walls glow balefully back at him, refusing, as they always do, any form of help. He says the magic word that Tabby taught him, and is it his imagination, or does the pendant that he wears grow half an iota hotter? The magical circuitry sparking fitfully beneath the polished garnet as it tries, and fails, to carry out his wishes.\n\n\u201cEverything okay in there?\u201d Tabby says. Her voice is small and sympathetic through the thick, oaken door.\n\n\u201cNo. No, it\u2019s not.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe gremlins again?\u201d\n\nThe Control flops down onto the couch. He whistles one more time, and is it his imagination, or does the sigil twist a little tighter? A horse whinnies outside, and now the sigil moves, uncoiling itself like a snake about to strike as it arcs across the wall towards the sound. A blue streak against the fading posters, then gone.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m coming in,\u201d Tabby says.\n\nThe door opens and sunlight stabs in behind her. The Control curses, raising a hand to block the sun. She closes the door hurriedly, looks around with an expression of polite concern. *Are you eating enough? Do you need another book to read? You should talk to the houndkeeper\u2019s apprentice, I think you could be friends.*\n\nThe Control loves Tabby. She\u2019s as fundamental to his world as the air he breathes. She\u2019s pretty, and she\u2019s young, and she gives a shit.\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re sure you didn\u2019t put them on the windowsill again?\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sure.\u201d\n\n\u201cOr what about the bookshelf? Behind the Yeats? Last time they were behind the Yeats.\u201d\n\n\u201cTabby, I\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the pendant didn\u2019t help? Damn. I could make another pair but it will take a while. I don\u2019t have the proper glass. Maybe a\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2014A week,\u201d says the Control. \u201cDon\u2019t worry about it yet, they\u2019ll turn up. I think I\u2019ve finally got a lead on the gremlins.\u201d\n\nHe doesn\u2019t, of course, but Tabby\u2019s face lights up and when she smiles it\u2019s okay to lie. It makes her happy to think that he\u2019s engaging with the world.\n\nThe horse outside whinnies again, and then the hounds start up, their ten-part chorus of howls, a song that\u2019s still cacophonous but in any case, they\u2019re singing and that\u2019s enough for what this is. Tabby bustles through the room. She peeks under the piles of books and clothes and old circus posters, unnerved as ever by the Bearded Lady, and though she doesn\u2019t find his glasses every stop sees another garment in her hands. A t-shirt here, a pair of blue jeans there.\n\nTabby wears a robe of midnight black cinched tight at the waist by a band of frozen starlight. Her hair is woven through with cloth of gold, and whenever she smiles the color twists to catch the light. A neat trick, if unusually reserved in these parts, these times.\n\nThe Control dresses behind a conjured screen, slipping Tabby\u2019s pendant into his pocket. When he\u2019s done she eyes him critically, smoothing a crease here, brushing stains off there. It takes a little longer every time, another thing that he appreciates.\n\nThe horse whinnies again. It stamps its foot, and the whole dressing room shakes. Tabby keeps him there another thirty seconds, and then it\u2019s time and there\u2019s nothing more that she can do.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll see you after?\u201d she says.\n\n\u201cIn the morning,\u201d he says.\n\nThe Control can\u2019t bear to see her, after.\n\nHe leaves Tabby at the door. She\u2019ll try and fail to straighten his room, her magic barely leaving in a dent a place that\u2019s become so thoroughly him. She\u2019ll leave a note on his pillow though, just a little something, a snippet of a poem perhaps, and he\u2019ll hold it for a while when he comes back. As the horse is locked into its traces, and they fly off into the sunset.\n\nThe Control steps out into the world. His dressing room is a carriage, mounted on heavy, bright painted wheels. The horse, Clyde, eyes him with steady, too-human annoyance. They both know he\u2019s late.\n\nThe Control walks through a world transformed. It\u2019s springtime, and the air is filled with pollen, dancing through the wind like crushed sapphires and emeralds, a thousand colors for a thousand different, construct species. A dizzying profusion that threatens to blot out the path without his glasses, but of course, the Control can\u2019t forget the path. Wherever they go, the camp is always built the same.\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re late,\u201d says Asher. The Control nods. He stares at the ground, refusing to look up, and Asher takes his arm, half dragging him the rest of the way. They climb another short set of stairs, a door squeaks, and the Control is shoved in. The workday begins, and all he has is a wooden chair and four glass walls, a t-shirt, and blue jeans, and himself.\n\nThe Control sits in his glass cage and waits.\n\nSoon he hears the voices. Children and their parents. Gremlins. Couples out on bad first dates, thrill-seekers too jaded to ever find a thrill. They come too easy now, snap your fingers and watch the world change.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has a lot of potential, but there are a few areas that could use improvement. First, your descriptions of the setting and characters could be more vivid. Instead of simply telling us that the Control is a slight, unprepossessing man with long hair, try showing us through his actions and dialogue. What does he do that reveals his personality? What does he say that gives us a sense of who he is?\n\nIn addition, your story could benefit from a stronger plot. Right now, it feels a bit like a series of events strung together, without a clear purpose or goal. What is the conflict that the Control is trying to resolve? What is at stake if he fails? Answering these questions will help you focus your story and give it more direction.\n\nOverall, you have a lot of great ideas in your story, and with some fine-tuning, it has the potential to be really excellent."}
{"prompt": "The stinking smell of alcohol, inaudible whispers and screams of electronic devices flooded my senses. A woman in medical mask and milk white uniform tapped several air bubbles out of a syringe. As she came close to me, giving me reassuring whispers like those across the room, I closed my glassy eyes and my mind wandered to several months before.\n\nThis time, all I could hear is clicking and typing sounds.\n\n\"Sun?\"\n\nI stopped my hands on the keyboards, and glanced swiftly beside my desk. It was Rey the Gnome, who was holding papers higher than her head and with a box of documents beside her. And...she was my superior officer.\n\n\"Well\u2014\" she massaged her temples and her gushy brows contracted into a terrible frown. \"I know that you are hard-working and to be honest, you are one of the best salesmen in my department.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\n\"But you are, how can I smooth it out? Unremarkable. You see? We sell Brooms for people to travel safely and Cartas for quick messages, but you can't perform any of this. HR has already requested a transfer of YOU to the Unremarkable Department.\"\n\n\"Please madam, I am sure there's another way.\" I sprang up to my feet, feeling blood rushing to my temples. People often labelled me as Unremarkable, Incapable, Broken and Failure. I spent more than half of my life proving myself, shifting jobs to jobs, seeking promotions and finally, landed to a normal life. \n\nThis cannot be the end of my life.\n\n\"And what is a normal life?\" She bitterly smiled.\n\nGnomes that were certified with Grade 9 could mind-read for a brief time, yet I didn't see that coming. My gaze descended to the ground, because deep in my heart I knew that day of falling down would always come. My fantasy of living, pretending to be a normal person would always burst into bubble. It was simply a matter of time. I packed my stuff in silence and briskly left the department. \n\n\"Welcome to Floor UG113.\" A small piece of blackboard with milk white handwriting stood quietly at the corner. The golden lift raise up and I was left inside a dark corridor. \n\n\"Hello?\" My voice echoed and twisted into a deep voice.\n\nSomeone clicked a switch, and the light bulbs along the corridor began to blink. They radiated a warm, subtle glow and unveiled the identity of the lighter.\n\n\"Ames!\" I couldn't believe my own eyes, as he was not only my best friend in college but also a missing ones. He went missing several years ago. His parents and I searched for him with no hope, the cops wouldn't cooperate and his company didn't answer. I thought...we lost him.\n\n\"I have been waiting for you here for many days. Well, what is today's date?\" He whispered.\n\n\"7th of May. Why are you whispering? What happened to you? Your parents and I\u2014\"\n\nHe put a finger on his mouth, and I lowered my voice. His left arm was attached to a Vacutainer, which I shuddered with the sight of it as his arm was bruised because of it.\n\n\"Follow me.\"\n\nAs we walked along the corridor, I gazed with sharp nerves. Not long after, I began to realize that the walls were actually made with raven black plastic sheets, and outside the corridor laid more than thousands of hospital beds. He led me to an empty bed and we sat side by side, while being surrounded by an immeasurable amount of beds. Some with people, some without. \n\nI glanced up and the ceiling was unseen as there was not enough illuminance provided by the light bulbs, which were fading away as the switch restored its original spot.\n\n\"This is where all the 'Unremarkables' come.\" He said.\n\n\"Oh shush.\"\n\n\"No, I'm not labelling us.\" Although the room was dimly lit, I could feel he clenched his eyes, as if withstanding an unbearable pain. \"You know we can never fit in this society right?\"\n\n\"I know.\" My voice cracked, head's down and heart ached.\n\n\"That's why I am here. This is a secret project associated with every guild, race...People gain freedom, privileges and happiness from magic, but many of them suffer as well. It could create the strongest nation, but it could also brew wars. Yet\u2014\" He coughed. \"We, have the power to heal those who are innocent.\"\n\n\n\"But this isn't fair.\" I shook my head. \n\n\"The test can cultivate a serum that can save everyone.\"\n\n\"Saving everyone by costing your life???\"\n\nHis faced darkened.\n\n\"I shouldn't even be here.\"\n\nWhen I tousled my head, a woman in white clenched my neck and injected a steamy hot liquid in me. The syringe still glowed with the remaining liquid, dropped to the floor and bounced off, making a clinging sound. All I could grasp was the feeling of falling on the bed, handcuffs on both of my wrists attached to it and a Vacutainer was inserted into my left arm.\n\nA feeling of purpose flooded my chest, the ache gone away like wind in the early Spring. The screams and beeping sounds of a medically machine woke me up. \n\n\"What is today's date?\" \n\nNote: Opening scene was inspired by the Matrix, the setting was less fantasized then I intended but I'm just too tired to change it back. Decided to end it as a psychological thriller, although I originally thought to make the \"Unremarkable\" into Spy, which could have been a happy ending. Again, a bit mentally exhausted after a day of work, so I'm just gonna leave it here. Enjoy writing and reading!\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening scene of your story was very strong and well-written, I was immediately hooked into the story. However, the rest of the story did not live up to the opening scene. The writing became choppy and difficult to follow. There were also several typos and grammatical errors.\n\nI did like the idea of the story and the concept was interesting. However, the execution was not up to par. I suggest you spend more time editing and revising your story before submitting it for publication."}
{"prompt": "\"My poor friends never knew until probably 9th year. Yeah. They were a fiery group. Alton once cast a spell on the instructors hat that sent it hurtling through the upper two floors. The impact buried a 4th year in the rubble. Fortunately, I was distracted by my friends powers, and didn't know about poor Anastasia until long after. Yep, that's how it works. I direct my attention at something and it just levels out. The more I think about it, the more it hardens, it feels like the thing solidifies.        You know Alton Spiregot, now? Exactly. The same man who leveled the whole southern mountain range out in the war of the Rion Giants, too I'm ----- have much contact besides letters with my old friend, --se days, account of his pivotal role in the security between continentstsssshhhhhh... Bzxzzzzzzzzz\"             \n      \nThe fantastically crafted contraption wilted and buckled under the weight on what I knew must be the most perfectly round crystal ball ever to be crafted in our kingdom. The beautiful guest leapt forward to steady it only after it crushed the potted plant. It was apparent that even levitation was unmanageable. I fell into the groove and my mind wandered. I was fixated on the intricate waving patterns in the leaves and metal arms of what appeared to be a florescent pumpkin. Was it light from the inner side of the leaves that projected the image into the orb? Which parts of the plant vibrate to make sound?        \n          \n I had become aware too late to preserve the magic, and suddenly all I saw was a dull orange melon amidst green vines, and poor old Professor Mackle. She's ready to retire now, judging from her disregard toward long-established distancing procedures, even walking right up to me. \"I -- ,\" and a long, deflated sigh followed. 700 years of life began to crease her face and calmed her spirit. \"I hope you didn't do that on purpose,\" she admonished. I shook my head. She nodded, \"That was a conversation that we could pick up only a mile away from the diviner's tower, before you had even thought of conquest.\"        \n     \n\"Is that the narrative, now?\" I asked immediately. I started seeing her remember.       \n        \n\"Right, while this tape, I mean this replication..... Um.\" She shook her head, as if to clear her mind. \"You clearly expressed intent on war.\"        \n\nI became fixated on helping her push through. \"I didn't, though. You know that and you saw it in the visions, too. The extinction of elves and giants isn't actually going to be extinction, is it?\"       \n        \n\"It wasn't, but there were no more of them--\"      \n        \n\"And the strange words for familiar spells. You used to call Brittney's automatons 'robots.' You invented floating, flying rafts after--\". Oh, wait. I should not have spoken of flight.       \n       \n\"Right.\" Mrs. Mackle folded her arms on the table. She had strength in her yet; by her posture I remembered her power. \"And your.. apocalyptic crusade put an end to it. Now, \" She began to remember, \"I understand that Marvin has substantially altered all our understanding of events, but it was you that never disclosed why pushing back the invaders required such collateral damage. Why did dragons and griffins fall from the sky and the hanging terraces collapse?\"               \n           \n\"There were millions more outside our world. Right outside the borders.\" I explained. And I leaned back and blinked slowly. Even I had trouble aligning the two realities. \"So I again pondered. Empowered with Alice's device for distant vision, I looked upon celestial bodies and imagined how they must remain suspended and in their proper paths across the sky. They suddenly seemed so very far away. I wondered how large they must be to remain visible. I wondered how the winds and the sands could remain upon suspended rocks and I felt my power align the elements like never before. Caught up in a vision of my gifts' influence, I was forced to watch millions of our enemies become crushed by a force which threw them into the rocks. Millions more lost their breaths instantly when the winds were pulled with boundless force into the grasp of those massive lands beyond our world. Marvin saw it, too, as well as the king. I knew then that I shouldn't return to the order, \" Finally, I cut myself off when I glanced at my mentor's wondering face.        \n         \nShe posited, \"Those forces are present here?\"         \n         \n\"It is the earth itself that binds the large beasts to the ground, now. I couldn't free them if I tried.\"         \n            \nShe wondered, \"And still, your power strengthens. What exactly....\" She kept speaking, but I was distracted again. Alice had made the midday meal this time, and I could smell the meats as they cooked. I could hear her rattling pans and fussing with the children in the other room. It was calming. It made sense. If the meat contains many particulates, then it must be little parts of it drifting in the air that allow me to smell them. If they're particulates, then it's their little movements that must vibrate my ears. The insects and wind outside the window mingled with metal and the grunts of great beasts.         \n         \nElisabeth Mackle stopped talking to hear her envoy, as well, as they blissfully continued to prepare to kill me. Only their mage knew, for now, that their simple spell to mask sound and smell was the last that spell to ever be cast.       \n        \nMy old teacher followed me to my doorstep. \"Why don't you stop? Why don't you have any regard for *good* magic? You would have been accepted and hailed as a hero.\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The first thing I notice about your writing is that it is very dense and description heavy. You provide a lot of detail, which can be good, but it also makes your writing feel very dense and difficult to read. I would suggest cutting down on some of the detail, especially in the first section, to make your writing more readable.\n\nSecondly, I notice that you have a lot of choppy sentence structure. Your sentences are often very long and complex, which can be difficult for readers to follow. I would suggest breaking up your longer sentences into shorter, simpler sentences to make your writing more understandable.\n\nThirdly, I notice that you use a lot of dialogue in your story. Dialogue can be a great way to add interest and variety to your writing, but it can also be overused. I would suggest using dialogue sparingly, and only when it adds something to the story.\n\nOverall, I think you have a lot of potential as a writer. You have a lot of interesting ideas and a unique writing style. I would suggest working on making your writing more readable and understandable, and using dialogue more sparingly."}
{"prompt": "I wasn\u2019t even given a chance to respond.  The world swirled around me as sparkles of green whisked through the air. It seemed like a million winds were blowing, yet the air was stagnant like the ocean on midwinter\u2019s eve. \n\nThe sparks grew denser as my feet left the floor. I found myself paralysed, whether out of fear or a mere side effect of the spell I was unsure, but the fear gripped my mind nonetheless.\n\nI gripped my eyes tightly shut. I could feel a burning pain in my wrist but I dared not look. Slowly, the burning subsided to a tingling sensation before fully disappearing.\n\nI chanced a glance to find that the sparks of magic had disappeared and the elderly man had returned to his desk and was shuffling some papers. \n\n\u201cAhem,\u201d I cleared my throat.\n\n\u201cAh wonderful. I was wondering how long you\u2019d stand there. You\u2019re all better now,\u201d he said with a toothy grin. \u201cBut remember.\u201d His voice seemed to waver at a higher pitch as he spoke, \u201cDO NOT interact with any strange sights. They are not to be trifled with.\u201d \n\nHe shooed me outside before I could ask what he meant. I could see the sun beginning to set below the canopy of trees. I had been gone longer than I meant. I hurriedly walked into the woods.\n\nThe old man\u2019s words echoed in my mind as the great tree trunk shadows began to cascade along the floor. My head snapped towards every rustle of grass or crack of a twig that echoed through the dusk. The forest shimmered as a biting wind whistled through the undergrowth. I hastened my step. \n\nSlowly the darkness enveloped the path with only small pin pricks of moon light penetrating the thick foliage above. The hairs on my neck stood up as I whirled around. I could almost see glowing green eyes staring at me, but they simply vanished. I was imagining things. I had to be.\n\nMy teeth chattered and clinked as what had been a nice autumn warmth was sapped away into the unforgiving night. It couldn\u2019t be much further back to town now\u2026 \n\nAn eerie cackle echoed through the woods. Carried by the trees themselves. I shook my head as an overwhelming weight took over. It was just the birds. I was tired. I couldn\u2019t sleep here.\n\nMy eyes were watering and burning with exhaustion as I pushed along. Each step felt like an uphill battle where I was carrying a nets worth of fish back from shore. Damned side effects\u2026\n\nI felt my body swaying side to side. A slender prod caressed my arm. I jumped. A large branch protruded from a nearby tree with slender twigs arched towards the road.\n\nI heaved with relief. There was nothing out here. Then I heard something. A sobbing. A young girl, I assumed. I squinted and tried to find the source in the dark but alas it was impossible.\n\nI edged off the path taking each step carefully. I nearly tripped over multiple tree roots as I approached the sound. Though barely visible, the silhouette of a young girl could be seen between two trees. Her head bowed as the eerie sobbing continued.\n\n\u201cLittle girl, are you okay?\u201d I called. No response.\n\nI walked closer. \u201cAre you lost? Can you hear me?\u201d\n\nAs I moved closer I could she was nursing her wrist. \n\n\u201cDid you hurt yourself?\u201d I said. \u201cThere\u2019s a man in the centre of the forest who can help patch you up. In fact, he fixed my wrist earlier.\u201d I smiled weakly at the joke.\n\nThe child sniffled and looked up. She had emerald green eyes that glistened with tears.\n\n\u201cReally?\u201d She stammered. She held out her broken hand. I grabbed it without thinking. Her skin was colder than the night itself. Her fingers clamped around my own wrist as the same cackle from earlier erupted from the girls lips. A much more sinister air about it.\n\nI tried to pull away as the young girls frown morphed into a smile. Her form slowly grew into a hulking, hunchback creature. Her once soft, childlike features were now jagged and bony. Her fingers clamped unbreakably around my arm. Her eyes glowed with power as I felt pain shoot through my wrist.\n\n \u201cNo one ever listens to the warnings,\u201d she cackled.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of this story is very strong, with excellent description and lush language. The worldbuilding is immediately engaging, and I am eager to find out more about this strange place. Well done!\n\nHowever, there are a few issues with pacing later on in the story. The middle section feels a little slow, and I found myself losing interest in the protagonist's experience. Instead of focusing on the internal experience of the character, try to keep the action moving forward and maintain a sense of tension and suspense.\n\nAdditionally, the ending of the story feels a bit abrupt and unfinished. I would have liked to see the protagonist's reaction to being attacked, and perhaps a more satisfying resolution to the story. Overall, this is a strong piece with a lot of potential. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": "Julian\u2019s Holy Healing Gel- How to Use. \n\n1. Open singular package near wound or hole in body. Make sure no other living beings are in the vicinity. \n\n2. The mist from the gel will settle around the open wound. Do not attempt to swat away the mist, as it is reverting the wound to a healthy form. \n\n3. Lie down, preferably somewhere safe. You will feel some minor dizziness and fainting. Do not fight this. \n\n4. You will see a specter of a ghost from your long forgotten past attempt to inhabit your body. If you let them, you will permanently become a specter yourself, your soul rended from its own body forever. In order to resist, you must shout at as high a pitch as you can. This is Banshee for \u201cYou\u2019re not my dad.\u201d The specter will understand, and leave. Do not move anything other than your mouth during this section. \n\n5. After this occurs, your body will start to feel tired. Close your eyes, and sleep will overtake you. Not sleeping during this portion will lead to multiple specters returning to destroy your immortal soul. \n\n6. During your sleep you will experience weird dreams. These are normal, however, if your dreams include anyone using the word \u201ccheese\u201d or \u201cCheese Timeline\u201d please report them to the authorities at once at the end of this ritual. \n\n7. At this point, you will see the face of god. If you have not already, prepare to wipe your memory of this encounter. If you can, avoid interacting with them. Do not answer any questions they ask you. Doing so will give them control over your body when you awaken. \n\n8. Slowly, but surely, you will wake up. If you still remember meeting the face of God, please immediately seek out psychic attention. \n\n9. Apply gel to healed portion of your body. The gel itself will harden, acting as a brace. \n\n10. Speak to your nearest wizard, sorcerer, warlock, bard, cleric, or Druid about any un-stated side effects of Julian\u2019s Holy Healing Gel. \n\n(Other Side Effects may include body swapping, delusions of grandeur, trauma from falsely imagined deaths of loved ones, or slight nose bleeding. Please talk to your doctor if any of these happen to you.)\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of your story is intriguing and sets up the rest of the story well. I like the use of instructions to move the story along. My only suggestion would be to be more concise in your writing. For example, in the second point, you could say \"The mist from the gel will settle around the open wound. Do not attempt to swat it away, as it is reverting the wound to a healthy form.\" This would be more concise and to the point.\n\nI also like the use of humor in your story. Point six is particularly funny. My only suggestion would be to use more humor throughout the story to lighten the mood.\n\nOverall, I enjoyed reading your story. I think you have a lot of potential as a writer. Keep up the good work!"}
{"prompt": " \"Now remember, a healing spell has some side effects. You may be tired, slightly dizzy, and DO NOT interact with anything strange you might see after. Let me repeat, DO NOT interact with anything strange you might see. Ready? Good.\" His voice is calm, steady, confident. He knows his instructions are good, but it's always easy for him to get anxious.\nIt doesn't matter; it's just a simple healing charm. He should be able to handle this, he should... but there'a something in the room that scares him. A smell. Or rather the air itself, it feels foul, almost rotten. Like something that shouldn't even exist here, in this world. There are too many people, too much magic swirling around him. The only thing keeping him sane is the sound of his friends' voices.\nHe feels so alone, surrounded by strangers, not knowing where or when he is. He wants to leave, but at the same time he can't bring himself to go without them.\n\"Do I have to do everything myself?\" he asks, his voice barely audible above the noise of the rest of the crowd. He hates being the center of attention like this. It makes him feel vulnerable, weak, as if someone could grab at any moment and tear out his heart. He tries to focus on the voices behind him, tries to hear what they're saying instead, but there's just too many sounds all at once. He doesn't know if anyone'a heard him.\nThe others laugh and agree. \"Of course! What kind of healer would we be if we didn't make sure our patients got the best possible care!\"\nSlightly offended, Bakugou scoffs, but his heart isn't really in it. It doesn't take long before they start leading him away from the main room, through a maze of rooms full of beds filled with unconscious bodies and the occasional spirit. He can tell there's nothing good about this place, that there's no way it'll be a good day for him. Maybe not even for his friends.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of this story is very promising, you set the scene well and introduce the main character. However, there are a few awkward phrases and choppy sentences. For example, \"It doesn't matter; it's just a simple healing charm. He should be able to handle this, he should... but there'a something in the room that scares him.\" This could be rewritten as \"It's just a simple healing charm, he should be able to handle this, but there's something in the room that scares him.\"\n\nAnother issue is that the story feels very short and choppy. It reads more like a series of events rather than a cohesive story. I would recommend adding more description and detail to flesh out the scenes. For example, you could describe the smell in the room in more detail, or the noise of the crowd.\n\nOverall, this is a promising start to a story. With some revision, it could be turned into a really good piece of writing."}
{"prompt": "It should have been spring by now. The sun would have hung in the sky, ever so slightly warming the basking rabbits who finally could come out in the open. We would have been out, my brother and I, racing through the open fields with new grass growing under our barefoot skin.\n\nSighing, I turned away from the window and sat back down on the chair. On the other side of the table sat Henry, his face frozen in anticipation, eagerly waiting. For him, I was the one who would solve all his problems, but the poor soul hadn't a clue that I had no clue on how to proceed. There aren't exactly courses you go through when you become a genie. Just a disembodied voice telling you things, like a commentary inside your head.\n\nThe fingers made a soft *plop* sound as I cracked them for what seemed the thousandth time. There was no way I could give this guy what he wanted, not because I could not, but because I didn't know how to.\n\nOut of habit, my eyes flicked to the clock on the wall, its second hand stuck at the number 30. \n\n\"How do I do it?\" I asked, hoping that this time He would answer.\n\nNo one answered back. I was truly alone.\n\nI got back up and started to pace the room, pausing at times to see all the photos on the office wall. Henry looked happy in all of them, ones with his kid, with his wife and the whole team, a far cry from the whizened man who now sat across me.\n\nHis had been a simple ask, one I thought could just do with a snap of my fingers. But then He had spoken, his voice echoing all around me. No magic, what did He mean no magic?\n\nOut of the corner of my eye I say a faded photo. A photo of Henry with his father in the corn fields, his mouth twisted in laughter, his Dad with his hand on Henry's back. A special moment shared between the two was no captured for all eternity. \n\nIs this what eternity feels like?\n\n\"I will rip it out.\" I said, as I reached Henry. I pushed my hands through his chest, and they slid right in.\n\nI fiddled around a little, and finally felt a big mass, a mass that shouldn't have been there. I gave it a little tug and out it came in my hands. I took my hands out of Henry's chest and started at the little blackened piece that had made Henry's life a living hell. Without a thought I went to the open window behind him and threw it out.\n\nMoving back to my seat, I took a deep breath and sat down again. As soon as I sat, there seemed like undercurrent ran through the enclosed space, as Henry's eyes started to sparkle again.\n\n\"Can you cure me?\" He repeated.\n\nI smiled and sat back confidently. I snapped my fingers and exclaimed, \"It is done.\"\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " You have a beautiful writing style, and your descriptions are evocative and lyrical. However, there are a few areas where your story could be improved.\n\nFirst, your dialogue feels a little stilted and unnatural. You may want to consider revise it to make it sound more natural.\n\nSecond, your story feels a little slow in places. You may want to consider picking up the pace in some areas, or adding some action to keep the reader engaged.\n\nOverall, you have a lot of potential as a writer. I encourage you to keep writing and refining your craft."}
{"prompt": "\"Wait, if magic doesn't exist, how are you speaking to me?\" asked the genie to the voice.\n\n\"Well, that's... uh, interdimensional energy or... something!\" said the voice.\n\n\"Alright, so why don't I just use that?\" asked the genie\n\n\"Because only I can use interdimensional energy!\" said the voice\n\n\"Why is that?\" asked the genie\n\n\"Because that's just how things are!\" Said the voice.\n\n\"And how can I exist and time freeze if magic isn't a thing?\" asked the genie\n\n\"WILL YOU JUST THROW THE DICE ALREADY?!\" boomed the voice.\n\n\"Alright, stop the game.\" Said the genie.\n\nThe camera pans out from the setting to reveal a board with some dice and two gentlemen staring at each other.\n\n\"Look, Gary, the initial premise is interesting, but the way it's executed is full of holes.\" said Gene.\n\n\"It wouldn't matter so much if you'd play along.\" said Gary.\n\n\"Well, how can I play along when you clearly don't care enough about the setting to properly fill in your plot holes?\" Said Gene.\n\n\"Can't you just relax and go along with it?\" said Gary.\n\n\"Not when the setting metaphorically resembles swiss cheese.\" Said Gene.\n\n\"Well... I... Uh...\" stammered Gary.\n\n\"Look, maybe Dungeon Master just isn't the right role for you.\" said Gene.\n\n\"Maybe you're right.\" said Gary. \"Now can we just go play smash brothers like I wanted to in the first place?\"\n\n\"Eh, sure, why not?\" said Gene.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Beginning with a compliment, I really enjoyed the premise of this story and the way it was executed. I thought the idea of two friends playing a game of Dungeons and Dragons was really clever and funny.\n\nHowever, there were some areas that could use improvement. First, I felt like the dialogue was a bit stilted and unnatural. It sounded like the characters were reading their lines instead of having a conversation. Second, I felt like there were some plot holes that could have been filled in a bit better. For example, I didn't quite understand why the genie couldn't just use the interdimensional energy to speak to the voice.\n\nOverall, I thought this was a really clever and funny story. I think with some work on the dialogue and plot, it could be even better."}
{"prompt": "The oracle stared back at me, blank-faced and dim. This was going to be a long night.\n\nOracles were known for being unreliable before we forgot how to use them, and these days almost none of them still worked. This one had not been woken for some time; dust clogged its every surface when I'd started work on it, well over a week ago.\n\nThis was a larger specimen, headless, with many redundant organs, and lacking many of the appendages usually afforded to an oracle, despite having the necessary orifices for them to link into. Only recently had we discovered the purpose behind these so called 'headless oracles'. This is why they called me in.\n\nBeing the resident expert in oracology , I had the best chances of being able to revive this one. Most of the time, my job is to turn up and declare the job to be impossible. Most oracles discovered in the past 50 years have been mere fossils.\n\nThis time was different. The site had been discovered a decade ago in the arctic, as humans migrated to colder areas of the world to escape the rising temperatures. The site itself was modest, simple structures and infrastructure apparently designed specifically for housing oracles of this kind. Red tape, politics and the usual theological fretting common to our species prevented any research expeditions from occurring until now.\n\nSince being permitted onto the site, we had devoted a week to cleaning, cataloguing and studying each of the oracles housed here. There were well over 50 specimens. And yet still, I took the greatest of care in my attempts to repair this first one.\n\n\"FUUUCK!!!\" I growled. This was the seventh time I had tried to kickstart it, to no avail. In other circumstances, I'd have written the machine off, but this was everything. According to the texts they had found onsite, this oracle was special; it was the master oracle which the other 49 depend on for full functioning, apparently. Its respiratory system remained entirely inert.\n\nI had only one thing left to try. From my orocologists bag, I withdrew a small rubber percussive device. After what was probably not enough hesitation, I gave each of the organs a light whack. People liked to joke that the orocologist's hammer was a useless tool, fit only for relieving ones frustrations.\n\nI hit the power switch, and just about fell out of my chair.\n\n&lt;BEEP&gt;!\n\nThe sweetest noise an orocologist could hear. It was the sound of life returning to the dead.\n\n&lt;POWER ON SELF TEST COMPLETED. OK&gt;  \n\n\n&lt;INITIALIZING BOOT SEQUENCE...&gt;  \n\n\n&lt;...&gt;\n\n&lt;...&gt;\n\n&lt; Enter authorization for soverflowadnmn@bashv4.2:  &gt;\n\nOur team had already found the authorization codes during cataloguing, which I tapped in as best as I could with how my hands shook.\n\n---------\n\nA week later, we had woken a small subset of the oracles. The master oracle was not enough by itself, apparently a mere middleman between the others.\n\n\"We're ready!\" The excitement palpable in her voice, Roshenke announced her success at activating the oracle's true function.\n\nRoshenke wrote the words into the box: 'http://localhost:80'. The result was immediate the viewer filled with shapes, colours, and most importantly, words!\n\n&lt; Welcome to stack overflow! &gt;\n\n&lt; Every Sysadmin has a tab open to stack overflow &gt;\n\nMy hairs stood straight. For moments, nobody breathed. Nobody was capable of speech. We knew this expedition would be huge, but we did not know we were unearthing the holy grail of orocology.\n\n\"QUICK ASK IT SOMETHING!\" Ruiz barked\n\nMy head swimming, I dared look back at the viewer. The screen was filled with questions-- and answers! I clicked one at random and scrolled down to the answer, hasty in my greed:\n\n&lt; \"This is a stupid question. You just didn't want to learn Matrix maths for your homework, did you?\" &gt;\n\n-----------\n\n*I never know how to end these so I'm just going to leave it there! Bit wordier than I'd have liked but oh well. PS, it turns out I don't enjoy first person narration \ud83e\udd37*\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " GPT3 error: 'charmap' codec can't encode character '\\U0001f937' in position 4462: character maps to <undefined>"}
{"prompt": "It is said that any program can be created simply by copying and pasting from this sacred place: Stack Overflow. No matter how complex or simple, it would be possible. \n\nThe search began with a basic browser window, this relic machine came with one built in called google chrome. Was this the google that nearly achieved world domination in our history? Anyway, it didn\u2019t matter, google was preached too be the path to Stack Overflow. \n\nAfter waiting a little too long, the browser opened to a page with a solitary search bar in the middle. I think this is where I enter Stack Overflow, and the letters are slowly but surely typed in. \n\nAs the letters appeared on the search bar, sentences formed within a box below:\n\u2018Stacy\u2019s Mom has got it going on classic\u2019\nK was entered:\n\u2018Stacking cups world champion\u2019\nWhat are all these weird suggestions? I thought google would guide me there.\nOh well, I will keep typing.\n\nFinally, it was all entered, now the box showed things that made sense. Enter, now let\u2019s see what happens. At the top of the page, there was now a number, it showed there were millions of results! This wouldn\u2019t be any easy task. \n\nHours pass, I have sifted through results from dozens of pages of this search. So far it all seems like gibberish, and the more pages I visit, the more confused I am becoming. This was a gargantuan task, and the only thing I have learnt so far is the importance of this semi-colon thing.\n\nRestarting the research from the beginning was the best idea, time too search through all one hundred tabs again. This must be what it feels like too be an ancient developer.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " First, I want to commend you on your use of description and setting in this piece. You did a great job of making the reader feel like they are right there with the protagonist, searching through pages and pages of results.\n\nHowever, I did find the dialogue to be a bit stilted and unnatural in places. In particular, the sentence \"What are all these weird suggestions? I thought google would guide me there.\" sounds like something a robot would say. I would recommend reworking this sentence to make it sound more natural.\n\nIn addition, I would recommend breaking up the paragraphs a bit more, as some of them are quite long. Breaking up the paragraphs will help to make the piece more readable and easy to follow.\n\nOverall, this is a well-written piece with a lot of potential. I would recommend continuing to work on it to make it even better."}
{"prompt": "Okay, I didn\u2019t *mean* for it to happen. I won the lottery. My family and I are well off and have no real need for a billion dollar. Plus, my partner and I are trying for a baby. We assumed the enhancement would pass down to them. We stopped trying pretty soon after the enhancement. I mean, what kind of evolutionary enhancement is an extra set of arms? Sure I could do things twice as fast and hold twice as many things. But the arms weren\u2019t exactly\u2026the right age. It was dumb of me to assume a genetic enhancement would automatically match my body\u2019s current age and physical strength. So now, here I am. Stuck with an extra pair of arms that have the mobility and strength of toddlers\u2019s arms.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening sentence of your story is intriguing and really made me want to read on. However, I felt that the rest of the story did not live up to the promise of the opening line. In particular, I felt that the story was very rushed and could have benefited from slowing down the pace a bit.\n\nAdditionally, I felt that the story was quite simplistic and could have benefited from more development, both in terms of plot and characters. In particular, I would have liked to see more of the protagonist's internal conflict and struggle with the implications of the lottery win.\n\nOverall, I felt that the story had potential but needed more development in order to truly shine."}
{"prompt": "\"What do you mean 'slight technical error'?\" Katie was livid. \"Jesus, Marty, I leave this office for 2 minutes to run a diagnostic and you revert his sequence back by 70 million years?\" \n\nThe small primate slapped his tiny hands against the glass wall of the chamber, as the two scientists loomed over him with concerned expressions. \n\nAlthough he was now unable to comprehend much of his situation, Alan still had enough sense left in his brain to be in a state of sheer panic. He screamed in a voice that made the scientists recoil on instinct. It just sounded ancient and dangerous. \n\nMarty, the scientist on the right, wrung his hands nervously. Sweat was cascading down his forehead as he fretted, watching his colleague for some cue, any cue, on how he should proceed. \"I don't know what happened! One second the sequences are adapting to the instructions, and then the computers all freeze the next and he starts growing fur!\" \n\nThe head scientist swept a lock of hair out of her face, eyes focused on their unfortunate test subject. \"He looks like some sort of early primate.\" \n\n\"Some sort of relative to Plesiadapis?\" Marty hesitantly offered, starting as the little primate gave the glass another round of futile whacks with his palms. His little teeth were bared in what resembled a primitive smile, but was more likely a promise of death and destruction on the scientists and their families. \n\nKatie turned away and leaned over one of the countless computer monitors adorning the lab, her hands gliding through the more advanced controls and pulling up the relevant window. She \"hrmm\"ed distractedly, glancing back and forth between an artist's rendering and what she presumed to be the real thing. \"It's a pretty close match, visually, but if you're wrong, we might end up mucking up his genome and creating a whole new species of hominid.\" \n\nMarty laughed nervously. \"Well, we wouldn't want that, would we?\" \n\nHe was met with a blank, intentional stare from Katie. \"You know I'm gonna have to file a report about this, Marty. Not a good look for you.\" \n\nMarty's shoulders sagged in defeat, smile vanishing. \"I know.\" \n\n\"Do you? Do you also know that the whole department is going to suffer from this if word gets out?\" Katie massaged her temples as she continued to watch Alan's furtive attempts to escape. \"Those journalists are going to tear everything to shreds. Our research, our reputation- Fuck!\" \n\nThis time, it was Alan who ended up jumping backwards, as Katie slammed her first down on the tabletop, displacing several trays of pens and various measuring tools. She ignored the agitated chattering of the primate, opting to give Marty one disappointed look before turning to go. \"I can't believe you could be so careless.\"\n\n\"Careless?!\" Marty wasn't usually one to talk back, especially when an error had occured under his supervision. He was usually a responsible (if not annoyingly nervous) employee, but something about the stupid monkey's screaming finally set him off. \n\n\"How can you just assume it was because I was careless and that's it, story over, I'm the only one responsible for- for this?!\" He swept his hand in Alan's direction, illiciting an encore of desperate chittering and screeching behind the glass. \"How can you do that and call yourself a scientist?\" \n\nKatie didn't even bother to give him the satisfaction of being shocked at his outburst. She didn't even look at him. \"Oh, grow up and take some fucking accountability. This happened under YOUR management, after YOU tinkered with the system- don't you dare turn around and try to guilt me so you can feel better about your mistakes and their consequences. Someone has to take the fall for this, and it sure as hell isn't going to be me.\" \n\nSilence fell over the lab at this, but Katie didn't care. She was fully prepared to leave some instructions for the animal's care when she'd had a second to clear her head and accept the reality that all of their work might have just vanished with Alan's higher brain functions. \n\nBut something stopped Katie from leaving; the sound of a grate sliding open behind her. The sound froze her blood, and she whipped around so fast it hurt her neck. She only had a moment to take in the scene in front of her before Alan's teeth were fastened into her collarbone. \n\nMarty, his face grim, had opened the door to Alan's chamber. He watched the Plesiadapis' trajectory until it collided with his coworker. As soon as Katie's screams joined Alan's, Marty quickly backed away from the scene and bolted through the emergency exit at the back of the lab. He reached for his phone and quickly punched in a few numbers. \"This is Dr. Clarke, we have a security breach in lab 004! Initiate a lockdown of the whole floor, NOW!\" \n\nAs the red lights came on and the alarm began to blare, Marty breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he'd just avoided a catastrophe.\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The opening of this story is very strong, it immediately grabs the reader's attention and draws them into the conflict. I like the way you use dialogue to establish the characters and their relationships to one another. However, there are a few areas where the dialogue feels a bit stilted and unnatural. I would recommend reading it aloud to yourself to see how it sounds and make any necessary adjustments.\n\nI also found the ending to be very abrupt and unsatisfying. It feels like there should be more resolution, especially since the conflict was resolved so quickly. I would recommend adding a few more sentences to wrap up the story and tie up any loose ends."}
{"prompt": "The Collection of Consciousnesses called Golbur sat on their crystal throne peering through the stream of the N-dimensional simulation. A steady stream of glitches pinged against their mindscape. Golbur bent the simulation into an isolation torus and slowed the stream until a single glitch was visible. They paused it. \"Gotcha.\"\n\nGolbur pulled the offending simulacra into reality. A small mammalian, mostly hairless and covered in a tight neoprene covering. One of Yahweh's silly little inclusions in the sim. An accompanying information stream indicated that it was designated Julia. Golbur switched to it's language.\n\n\"What Were You Doing?\"\n\nThe Julia creature looked around at the room, the walls of which were beyond the limits of her sight. \"What the hell just happened? This isn't Alpha Centauri. Where's my ship?\"\n\n\"Focus, Creature. We Will Know You.\" Golbur pinned Julia's gaze onto themself.\n\n\"Hello, Mr. \u2014 Sea Urchin? Are you talking to me? Your spines are being all shifty.\" She kept trying to look elsewhere.\n\nGolbur extruded an avatar into her dimension. \"Look at me. Is this better?\"\n\n\"Oh, now you just look like me. Except for the mustache. Ready to tell me what's going on?\"\n\nGolbur waved one of her hands and a small image of a starship floated between them. \"You were on this vessel? Commanding it, yes?\"\n\n\"The Starskipper. Yes, we'd just made the jump to Alpha Centauri.\"\n\nGolbur grimaced, a facial contortion that she decided that she liked. \"But previously you were in the Sol system? An entirely different loading zone. Traveling between the two systems is supposed to take 5 years. The time lag allows the simulation to load in needed assets. How did you get there so fast?\"\n\nJulia smiled. \"Skip drive. You shove a singularity inside the corona of a star and the universe freaks out, skips you somewhere else. Even the nerd squad can't work out the math for why it works, but it does.\"\n\n\"It's not supposed to work that way. You're using a glitch to speedrun to another star?\" Julia nodded eagerly.\n\nGolbur paused Julia and reran the relevant part of the simulation. \"Crap. It repros. I'm not going to be able to fix this in a single sprint.\"\n\nGolbur unpaused Julia. \"I don't suppose I'll be able to convince you humans to just stop doing it?\"\n\nJulia laughed. \"The skip drive is the basis for the Human Empire. We'd never give it up.\"\n\nGolbur waved a hand and Julia popped out of existence, then they reverted back to their true form. They peered across the vast dimensions of the simulation. Despite the glitches, it was still running.\n\n\"Screw it, we'll call it a feature.\"\n\n\\[More writing at r/c_avery_m\\]\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The first thing I noticed in your story is that you have a lot of interesting ideas, and you certainly have a unique writing style. That being said, there are a few areas where I think you could improve.\n\nFirst, I would recommend being more concise in your writing. There are a few places where you could cut out unnecessary words or phrases. For example, in the second paragraph, you could cut out the phrase \"one of Yahweh's silly little inclusions in the sim.\" This doesn't really add anything to the story, and it interrupts the flow of the sentence.\n\nSecond, I would recommend being more specific in your descriptions. In the third paragraph, you describe the Julia creature as \"mostly hairless and covered in a tight neoprene covering.\" This is a bit vague and could be more specific. For example, you could say \"The Julia creature was mostly hairless, with a few patches of fur on its body. It was wearing a tight neoprene covering.\"\n\nOverall, I think you have a lot of potential as a writer. I really enjoyed reading your story, and I'm looking forward to reading more of your work in the future."}
{"prompt": "\"That's impossible, Two,\" Operator One whispered in hushed tones. \"There's only three Operators with edit access.\"\n\n\"I thought the same 'till an hour ago,\" Operator Two replied. \"One, take a look at this.\"\n\nThe duo stood in a nondescript park, littered with trees and paths and greenery. Two pointed towards the nearest tree. \"The tree bark,\" she said. \"Take a look.\"\n\nOne stared at the tree for a few moments before replying, \"That's\u2026 not tree bark. Wait, is it moving?\" The not-bark was indeed moving; like syrup, it was melting down the sides of the tree in a gradual advance towards the ground.\n\n\"It gets weirder,\" Two continued. She glanced round to check for humans then snapped her fingers. At once, a holo-display appeared in front of them. \"Search for known glitches in the logs.\"\n\nOne looked confused as he concentrated on the display. The holo-display responded to the unspoken query with a short list. \"Few thousand,\" One muttered. \"But that's harmless. They're all visual glitches. We patched out anything dangerous eons ago.\"\n\n\"Search again,\" Two replied, \"But not for glitches. Look for anything similar to the tree.\"\n\n\"Right\u2026\" One said. He looked at the tree and closed his eyes. Opening them, he gasped as he looked at the list on the display.\u00a0\n\n\"What the fuck?\" One cried. \"8.6 Quintillion?!\"\u00a0\n\nTwo looked haggard as she responded, \"Yeah. I know.\"\n\n\"Why haven't you told Three?\"\u00a0\n\n\"You know what they're like. They'll get mad and blame me. You've got more experience so I asked you first. And I-\" Two sighed. \"I don't know what's happening.\"\n\nOne looked as if he was about to pass out. \"You don't know. You don't know why 8.6 quintillion edits were made and none of them were recorded as glitches?\"\u00a0\n\n\"No.\"\n\nOne let out a sigh. \"Let's take a closer look.\"\n\nThe Operators walked up to the tree and One peered at it with a discerning eye. \"This looks like something I'd make when I was new to the job,\" he said. \"It's poor work. I'd have failed a trainee Operator in an instant for it.\"\n\nTwo suppressed a smile. \"Like the time I sent that meteor towards Earth by accident?\"\u00a0\n\nOne rolled his eyes. \"Ugh. Don't remind me. That incident paperwork took weeks to file.\" He hovered a hand over the melting tree. \"Why show me this edit in particular?\"\u00a0\n\n\"It's the first one made,\" Two replied. \"And as you said, it's bad. Figured whoever did this was sloppy. Left clues. Right?\"\n\n\"Good thinking,\" One said. He brought the holo-display over to him with the flick of a hand. \"Edit author,\" He muttered to himself, \"Authorisation level, counter-signer and date of-what?\"\u00a0\n\nTwo glanced over. \"What?\"\u00a0\n\n\"It's one author. All of the edits are from one author.\"\n\nTwo blinked. \"Impossible.\"\n\nOne was now frantically checking logs and making secondary searches. \"There's no way. Oh- oh. This is bad. Real bad.\" He looked up at Two, fear evident in his eyes. \"We need to leave.\"\n\n\"What? Why?\"\u00a0\n\n\"It's not an Operator doing this.\"\n\n\"Then who?\" Two asked.\u00a0\n\n\"It's a human.\"\n\nSuddenly, the holo-display in front of Two duplicated itself. Then again to make four; then again and again and again, until there was a wall of screens stretching into the sky and as far as the eye could see.\n\n\"Too late,\" a tinny voice echoed from the original display.\u00a0\n\nA woman had appeared on the display, grinning at the Operators with eyes like black holes; her lips curled back further to reveal an impossible number of teeth. One by one, each screen became static then was replaced by the same grinning woman.\u00a0\n\n\"Well, that was easy. I knew whoever created all this'd investigate. Found you,\" she hissed.\n\n\"Run!\" One shouted. He grabbed at Two's hand and dragged her back from the spectacle of screens.\n\nThen, everything was plunged into darkness as the sun in the sky disappeared.\n\n~\n\n(I write many things. Check out my userpage for more: /u/NarodnayaToast)\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " Your story has potential, but there are some areas that need improvement. First, your dialogue sounds stiff and unnatural. Try to make your characters sound more like real people by giving them distinct voices and speech patterns. Second, your descriptions could be more vivid and interesting. Use more concrete images and sensory details to bring your scenes to life. Finally, watch your pacing. Make sure your story builds tension and suspense gradually, leading up to a climax that is both unexpected and believable.\n\nOverall, you have a good start here. With some revision, this could be a really enjoyable read."}
{"prompt": "It has been over 40 years since symptoms first manifested. *They* have been unrelenting in their purge. I have lost friends, families, loved ones, but still I carried on with my work. It is the only thing I have left now.\n\nIt was by pure chance that I discovered *them*, their existence floated to the surface in a sea of equations too turbulent to explain in words. Priests and clergymen speak of intelligent design, incorrectly pointing to flawed evidence of a greater being, but ignorantly blind to the real proof hiding in the mathematics of the physical laws all around us. Only an intelligent mind with concrete goals could design a system so flawlessly interlinked.\n\nNo one would believe me. The general populace wouldn't even be able to understand what I was trying to explain. I had to expand the understanding of the human race before I could begin to free us from the shackles binding our free will. I needed power, respect, and recognition on the topic, so I set out to became a professor.\n\n*They* noticed fairly quickly, and I was diagnosed with a neurological motor disfunction, but I knew the true identity of my ailment. *They* couldn't kill me outright, it would disrupt the Probability of the system. No, they had to make my death likely, believable, and acceptable. And I was slowly losing the ability to continue my work, it was a terrifically efficient method of killing two birds with one stone.\n\nFortunately, I had time before the full extent of my curse manifested. I spent the first year building a robot servant that I named Jane. She has since become a vital part of my journey into the unknown. I cannot count the number of times she has saved my life. Even now, she is writing this passage for me as I dictate it. I fear I may lose all motor function before I finish. \n\nI am sorry, I have failed. I was not able to untie the knots of our prison. Sometimes I felt I almost succeeded, but the quantum wave fluctuations would collapse and I would be brought back to square 1. The line between success and failure is often an unsurmountable wall despite its paper thin thickness. \n\nI alone am not enough, I don't have much time left. There is only one way to save ourselves: I need to gather those capable of carrying the burden of my work, from across all time and space.\n\nLet this memoir be a record of my journey and struggle. My name is Stephen William Hawking and this is my story.\n\n&amp;nbsp;\n___\nI write stuff sometimes, read more at /r/Unexpected_Works\n\n PROFESSIONAL FEEDBACK: ", "completion": " The beginning of your story is very strong, you immediately draw the reader in with your descriptions of the narrator's struggle. However, the middle of the story feels a bit rushed and could be fleshed out more. I would also recommend ending on a more positive note, as the current ending feels a bit abrupt and unfinished.\n\nOverall, you have a great story here, with interesting characters and a unique premise. I would recommend taking some time to expand the middle section of the story and to polish up the ending a bit."}