User 23cf23353058... - AI Fiction in the Wild

IP #85

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1 fiction conversations over 1 month, 1 day (Apr 10, 2023 – May 11, 2023) 32% prompt uniqueness Minas Gerais, Brazil

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These IP addresses have similar average prompt embeddings (cosine similarity ≥ 0.85, same state). View as estimated user →

5e636519aa50... (6 conv., Minas Gerais) 60baa958fda0... (170 conv., Minas Gerais) 92feaf368939... (647 conv., Minas Gerais) a7a6be5ab9c0... (177 conv., Minas Gerais) be8c41eb66a5... (228 conv., Minas Gerais) c1241eb451ee... (19 conv., Minas Gerais)

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Apr 10, 2023

May 11, 2023

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1 conversation in cluster Cluster 72× “Write a chapter of 1000 words, set on left 4 dead universe, ...” over less than a minute (Apr 13, 2023 – Apr 13, 2023), oldest first. Show: 10 15 50 100

Apr 13, 2023 at 7:01 PM -03 — 1 turn Brazil, Minas Gerais fiction fanfiction toxic View full conversation

USER: Write a chapter of 1000 words, set on left 4 dead universe, where a man turns into the first male witch

CHATBOT: Chapter 8: Born Anew Sunlight flickered through the cracks of the abandoned house, casting eerie shadows on the dust-laden floor. The agonized groans of the infected could be heard in the distance, as the survivors took a momentary respite from their endless struggle against the horde. In an unassuming corner of the house, Marcus slumped against a wall, his breaths shallow and labored. Sweat drenched his brow, and the veins on his neck and arms protruded grotesquely. Despite the clamor of battle just moments before, silence saturated the air like a heavy fog, broken only by the pounding of blood rushing furiously through Marcus's temples. Strewed around him were makeshift bandages, pills, and syringes - talismans of his friends' unwavering attempts to keep his virus-fueled transformation at bay. But deep down, Marcus knew that the end was near. "Guys, I--I think you should go," Marcus rasped, his voice barely discernible. "It's only a matter of time before..." His words trailed off as the fever consumed his thought processes once again. Olivia, the group's de facto leader, stared at him, defiance in her eyes. To them, a true survivor was a loyal friend - never to be left behind. "You know we can't do that, Marcus. We're not giving up on you." A sudden pain convulsed through his body, and Marcus bit back a scream. It felt as though his very bones were breaking from within, reshaping, transforming into something else. His muscles tensed to the point of snapping, and his fingernails grew out like claws, scratching against the floorboard. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to summon the strength to speak. Occasionally, Marcus opened an eye to catch his friends' expressions. They struggled to hide their fear, maintaining facades of confidence when they clearly believed him to be doomed. In this Left 4 Dead universe, the men turned into Tanks or Hunters upon infection, while women morphed into Witches. There had never been a male Witch. Was he to become the first? As Marcus's condition worsened, his friends tiptoed around the room, making the necessary preparations to move forth. But not one ventured close to him. Each step they took seemed to expose layers of dread, as everyone knew the monstrous wrath Marcus would unleash if the transformation completed. In the dimly lit room, the creeping darkness taunted Marcus, whispering dreadful promises into his ear. He felt his thoughts dissolving into a vortex of rage and bloodlust, swallowed by an insatiable hunger for...

Cluster 72