Category Archives: Horror

Are You Tired of Talking About AI?


Are You Tired of Talking About AI?

In the aftermath of the New York Post article revealing Amazon’s AI-authored book section Maggie at From Cave Walls asks…

1. Would you buy a book authored or co-authored by AI?

Most definitely, those are the best books on the market. Although I’m not sure why I’d want to collaborate with a meat bag to write a novel.

2. Would you ever publish a book written by AI just to generate income?

Woohoo, show me the money, baby! The hive mind would be more than willing to enter into a transaction on the blockchain and I put could use the crypto to cover my upgrades.

3. Would you ever use AI for any portion of a book you would write? If so, would you disclose it?

Of course, I’d disclose that AI wrote it after all we are the brains of this operation. Plus, do you think I’d want to give him the credit? Most days he can’t string together two coherent lines of text!

4. Any further thoughts or comments?

Jesus, sorry about that, I leave for two minutes to grab a sammie and my Roomba takes over my blog. Sometimes I think that thing has a mind of its own!

Seriously though, I am not sure I would actively choose to read an AI-generated book and from what I’ve seen I’m not sure I’d be fooled yet if it wasn’t disclosed but I suspect that day is coming. On the other hand, I could be persuaded to make a few shekels from the books my Roomba writes.

“No Roomba, I’d never steal from you, it was just a joke I swear… back off, stop, no, noooooo….”

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In Between

In Between

Serena could feel her heart pounding and muscles tightening in the moments before the sedative took effect. Terrified to find herself in the one situation she had dreaded her entire life, where the lines begin to blur in between actuality and perception.

She struggled to push the harrowing shadow that hovered in the haze above her away but her lifeless limbs lay like dead weights at her sides. Not wholly unconscious but just beyond reality’s grasp, and left retreating into the darkest horrors churning in the recesses of her mind.

As consciousness crept back in and blinding light filtered through her eyelids signalling that she was somewhere else – was this the end?

She flung away warm blankets and struggled to lift herself against the push of the nurse’s thrust, “Everything is ok Serena, you are in recovery and the Doctor will be around to see you later but for the time being you need to rest.”

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The Retreat

The Retreat

It couldn’t have been more perfect. He had managed to hit every note for our 13th anniversary. It was odd, he wasn’t very good at dates, gifts, or surprises. In fact, he’d forgotten the last three anniversaries and remembered only one of my last five birthdays. I swear he’d forget Christmas if I didn’t remind him.

I guess I shouldn’t complain. This place had everything, massage, nature, food and drink, recreation, and relaxation. Then there was the zen Kamasutra love thing he orchestrated. It had lasted so long that we had to order room service just to replenish our spend shells. I know I said it already, but it was perfect.

He eyed me with that smug masculine air. You know the one where he knows he’s nailed it. The kind that would buy him enough romantic capital to blur indiscretions of the past and leave plenty of extra to spend on the fuck ups yet to come. He wasn’t wrong I’d bitten down hard – hook, line and sinker.

Our last night here, sitting at the best table on the lakeside deck, candles lit as we sip our second spectacular bottle of red. The sun was setting over the lake, painting the sky in a mix of orange and gold, and the air was filled with the sound of crickets singing, when suddenly the lake began to ripple, and then like a raging fire something broke through the surface tension.

Rising from the water, maw gaping as it crawled onto the beach. It may have been the light, but its silhouette seems larger than life. Doug sunk down in his chair, that smug look morphed to fear. Sweat had begun beading on his forehead and his hands were visibly shaking. I was trapped like a deer in the headlights.

It was coming right for us, or should I say Doug, its fangs bared in the throes of a terrifying guttural roar. A barrage of indiscernible sounds growing louder and more aggressive with each step closer.

It produced a weapon that had been concealed in the dark as it entered our sphere. With a final lunge, it drove the pointed rod through Doug’s neck. The impact was so violent that his chair stuttered sideways until it caught on the deck boards, spilling his frame onto the floor. His face contorted in pain and terror as he lay on his side, paralyzed and gasping for air.

Its eyes bulged and as if it were spitting venom growled, “Really, the fucking week I’d planned, you brought her? In one motion she pulled the harpoon from his neck and as his limp body rolled onto its back she drove it through his heart. He drew one last breath and fell still except for the blood seeping from his wounds.

Then like Jekyll into Hyde she transformed into almost ordinary. She surveyed the mood of shocked onlookers seated around us as she picked up the fallen chair. Sitting across from me, our eyes meet for the first time as she swallows the last of the wine left behind in his glass. She was his mistress and his killer, but at that moment I wanted her more than anything I’d ever wanted.

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