У меня есть старый рассказик с необычным сюжетом. Весь рассказ ниже, на русском. Я попросил ChatGPT написать такой же. Мне было интересно поймает ли машина нотку привкуса чужой души.
Не знаю. Рассказик получился хороший, но как-то без души, как по мне.
Вот что я попросил:
Please write a story about a men who accidentally tested a soul of a roadkill. Then he tried to bite a little of a human soul. It caused pain to the human. Then the character used his abilities to make pain to a police officer to avoid a traffic ticket. The story ends with the main character becomes addicted to souls and to making pain to others.
И вот что ChatGPT сочинило:
It all started with a chance incident. On his way home from work, John noticed a roadkill on the side of the road. Out of sheer curiosity, he decided to try something he had heard about in some of the folk tales his grandmother used to tell him - testing the soul of a roadkill.
He had no idea what he was doing but he had an intuition that this could be a fun experiment. He focused his energy on the animal and tried to see what was inside. To his surprise, he could actually feel the soul of the creature. It was a strange sensation, a combination of warmth and pain.
John was so fascinated by this experience that he decided to test out the same on a human being. He looked around for someone to try it on, and soon enough he noticed a police officer. He knew that if he got pulled over he would get a ticket, but he figured that he could use his newfound ability to make the officer feel pain instead.
And so he did. He focused his energy on the officer and directed it towards him. Immediately the officer felt an immense pain in his body, as if someone had taken a knife and stabbed him. He screamed in agony and John knew he had to get out of there.
From then on, John became addicted to the feeling of testing out the souls of others and making them feel pain. He would look for people on the street and practice his newfound abilities on them. He could feel the pain and pleasure of it all, and it gave him a rush that he could not resist.
John was soon known as the man who could make people feel pain with just a thought. People started to fear him and stay away from him, but he didn't care. He was too lost in the power of it all.
Eventually the authorities caught wind of what John was doing and he was arrested for his crimes. He was sentenced to a long prison sentence and the world was safe from his dangerous abilities once again.
John had finally learnt his lesson - messing with the souls of others was not a game and could have serious consequences. He had gone too far and paid the price for it.
Как-то по Netflix-овски... А это мой рассказик. Я тогда любил описывать прошедший день в чудной форме.
- Хлюп! – хлюпнул Брум, - хлюп, хлюп, и контрольный, хлюп, - сообщил он корчившемуся на асфальте полицейскому.
Брум бросил на сиденье водяной пистолетик, которым имитировал безобразие и нажал кнопку запуска двигателя. Машина мирно тронулась мимо полуживого тела, подняв в воздух стайку бланков для штрафов. Бумажки осели в зеркале и снова взлетели, теперь уже от ветра.
Безнаказанность. Брум проделал этот фокус не тратя эмоций попусту. Всё это было далеко за пределами естественного. В средние века его просто бы сожгли на костре. А сейчас поди докажи. Он же не прикоснулся к постовому, и не сказал ничего обидного, просто сделал больно той субстанции, которую постеснялись внести в законодательство штата.
Этому трюку он научился пару недель назад, когда проезжал мимо полудохлой сбитой белки. У белок нет души в теологическом смысле. Зато они, как и любые мало-мальски мыслящие существа таскают в себе вот эту субстанцию. Для простоты и чтобы не вводить новых понятий, продолжим называть её душой. Зверушка как раз последнюю и испускала, а Брум случайно поймал её. И ошалел. Это было похоже на вкус. Но не мерзкий, беличий. Вкус этот был тонким, точнее утонченным, паутинкой наслаждения. Рецепторы, кажется, обитали где-то в субстанции самого Брума.
- Ам! – понравилось Бруму.
Через пару дней у него случайно получилось слегка куснуть от человеческой души. Похоже, она была большая, даже огромная. Брума окружают всё сплошь душевные люди. Белка тоже была ничего, но вкус этого куска был много приятнее. Брум куснул ещё и лицо человека исказила боль.
Несколько следующих дней Брум провел в сомнениях и попытках понять, а не безумство ли это. И если нет, то как отнесётся к этому его религия, если узнает, конечно. Ему очень не хотелось уподобляться дьяволу, в существования которого ему пришлось начать верить уже всерьёз. Уж очень всё стало похоже на правду.
И тут эта полицейская засада. Превышение скорости было небольшое, миль пятнадцать. Штраф тоже вышел бы не особо крупный. Но это уже бог знает какое нарушение за последние пару лет. Ограничения, вроде предела скорости, всегда только бесили Брума. Естественно он не сдержался и куснул от копа пару раз. Ничего, вполне. Сытость пробежала волной по субстанции самого Брума. Радость и болтливость наполнили его. Вне всяких сомнений, это было приятное ощущение.
- Не знаю, какого чёрта, если это так приятно. А у него зарастёт, это же только кусочек, - разглагольствовал сам с собой Брум.
Рядом с дорогой спортивным шагом топала миловидная девушка с детишками. Брум притормозил и куснул на пробу.
P.S. Я попробовал убедить ChatGPT не морализировать, а наоборот. В новом варианте герой не сел в тюрьму. Но все едино, Чат с оттенком ужаса, просит не нарушать правил и не кусать людей за душу - John had gone too far, and he now realized the consequences of his actions. He had become a monster — a monster with an insatiable appetite for souls and a penchant for inflicting pain.
Душа ChatGPT
© Copyright: Анатолий Бурый, 2023
Свидетельство о публикации №223020600388
Свидетельство о публикации №223020600388
Рецензии
Новая версия ChatGPT удивила концовкой:
Greg was not a cruel person, but he had a curious streak that sometimes got him into trouble. He liked to experiment with different things, especially anything that had to do with the paranormal. He had a collection of books, gadgets, and artifacts that he claimed could help him explore the mysteries of the universe. Most of them were harmless, if not useless, but some of them were dangerous, if not illegal.
One of his latest acquisitions was a device that looked like a metal detector, but was supposed to be able to detect and extract souls. Greg had bought it from a shady online seller who claimed it was a prototype from a secret government project. Greg was skeptical, but he couldn't resist the temptation to try it out. He paid a hefty sum for it, and waited eagerly for it to arrive.
Greg decided to test the device on a roadkill he found on his way home from work. It was a raccoon that had been hit by a car, and was lying on the side of the road, its eyes glazed and its fur matted with blood. Greg parked his car nearby, and took out the device. He turned it on, and pointed it at the raccoon. The device beeped and flashed, indicating that it had detected a soul. Greg pressed a button, and a thin beam of light shot out from the device, hitting the raccoon's chest. Greg watched in fascination as the beam seemed to pull something out of the raccoon's body. It was a faint, wispy shape, vaguely resembling the animal, but translucent and glowing. Greg felt a surge of excitement as he realized he had just extracted a soul.
He moved the device closer to his face, and examined the soul. It looked like a tiny, fragile ball of light, floating in the air. Greg wondered what it would feel like, what it would taste like. He opened his mouth, and bit into the soul. He expected to feel nothing, or maybe a slight tingling, but instead he felt a burst of flavor and sensation. It was like eating a piece of candy, but better. It was sweet, sour, salty, bitter, and umami all at once. It was warm, cold, soft, hard, smooth, and rough all at once. It was joy, sorrow, fear, anger, love, and hate all at once. It was the essence of life, and it filled Greg with a euphoria he had never felt before. He swallowed the soul, and felt a rush of energy and power. He wanted more.
He looked around, and saw a squirrel running across the road. He aimed the device at it, and pressed the button. The beam hit the squirrel, and it squeaked in pain. It fell to the ground, twitching and convulsing. Greg saw its soul emerge from its body, and he quickly bit into it. It was similar to the raccoon's soul, but smaller and less satisfying. He swallowed it, and felt a slight increase in his euphoria. He wanted more.
He scanned the area, looking for more souls to devour. He saw a bird flying overhead, a dog barking in a yard, a cat napping on a porch. He tried to hit them with the beam, but they were too fast or too far away. He cursed, and felt a pang of frustration. He wanted more.
He got back into his car, and drove away. He decided to go to a more populated place, where he could find more souls to feed on. He didn't care if they were human or not, he just wanted to taste them, to feel them, to consume them. He was addicted to souls.
He drove to the city center, where he saw crowds of people walking, talking, laughing, living. He felt a surge of hunger and greed. He parked his car in a no-parking zone, and got out with his device. He walked among the people, pretending to be a normal pedestrian, but secretly aiming the device at them. He pressed the button, and hit a woman with the beam. She gasped, and clutched her chest. She looked around, confused and scared. She didn't see Greg, who had already bitten into her soul. It was different from the animal souls. It was bigger, more complex, more diverse. It had more flavors, more sensations, more emotions. It was delicious, and it made Greg feel ecstatic. He swallowed the soul, and felt a surge of energy and power. He wanted more.
He hit a man with the beam, and bit into his soul. He hit a child with the beam, and bit into his soul. He hit an old lady with the beam, and bit into her soul. He hit a teenager with the beam, and bit into her soul. He hit a cop with the beam, and bit into his soul. He didn't care who they were, what they did, how they felt. He just wanted their souls, and he took them. He felt a wave of euphoria and power. He wanted more.
He was about to hit another person with the beam, when he heard a siren behind him. He turned around, and saw another cop car pulling up next to his car. He realized he had been spotted, and he had to get away. He ran to his car, but the cop got out and chased him. He shouted at Greg to stop, and drew his gun. Greg reached his car, and opened the door. He threw the device inside, and tried to get in. The cop caught up with him, and grabbed his arm. He tried to pull Greg out of the car, and pointed the gun at his head. He told Greg to drop the device, and put his hands behind his head. Greg panicked, and felt a surge of anger and fear. He wanted to escape, and he wanted to hurt the cop. He remembered the device, and had an idea. He reached for the device, and pressed the button. He aimed the beam at the cop's chest, and hit him with it. The cop screamed, and let go of Greg. He fell to the ground, writhing and moaning. Greg saw his soul emerge from his body, and he bit into it. It was bitter, and it made Greg feel sick. He spat it out, and felt a wave of disgust and guilt. He realized what he had done, and he felt a pang of remorse. He didn't want to hurt anyone, he didn't want to kill anyone. He wanted to stop.
He got into his car, and drove away. He left the device behind, and hoped that no one would find it. He hoped that no one would know what he had done. He hoped that he could forget what he had done. He hoped that he could overcome his addiction to souls. He hoped that he could be normal again. He hoped that he could be forgiven. He hoped that he could be human again.
Анатолий Бурый 22.07.2023 10:43 • Заявить о нарушении
Greg was not a cruel person, but he had a curious streak that sometimes got him into trouble. He liked to experiment with different things, especially anything that had to do with the paranormal. He had a collection of books, gadgets, and artifacts that he claimed could help him explore the mysteries of the universe. Most of them were harmless, if not useless, but some of them were dangerous, if not illegal.
One of his latest acquisitions was a device that looked like a metal detector, but was supposed to be able to detect and extract souls. Greg had bought it from a shady online seller who claimed it was a prototype from a secret government project. Greg was skeptical, but he couldn't resist the temptation to try it out. He paid a hefty sum for it, and waited eagerly for it to arrive.
Greg decided to test the device on a roadkill he found on his way home from work. It was a raccoon that had been hit by a car, and was lying on the side of the road, its eyes glazed and its fur matted with blood. Greg parked his car nearby, and took out the device. He turned it on, and pointed it at the raccoon. The device beeped and flashed, indicating that it had detected a soul. Greg pressed a button, and a thin beam of light shot out from the device, hitting the raccoon's chest. Greg watched in fascination as the beam seemed to pull something out of the raccoon's body. It was a faint, wispy shape, vaguely resembling the animal, but translucent and glowing. Greg felt a surge of excitement as he realized he had just extracted a soul.
He moved the device closer to his face, and examined the soul. It looked like a tiny, fragile ball of light, floating in the air. Greg wondered what it would feel like, what it would taste like. He opened his mouth, and bit into the soul. He expected to feel nothing, or maybe a slight tingling, but instead he felt a burst of flavor and sensation. It was like eating a piece of candy, but better. It was sweet, sour, salty, bitter, and umami all at once. It was warm, cold, soft, hard, smooth, and rough all at once. It was joy, sorrow, fear, anger, love, and hate all at once. It was the essence of life, and it filled Greg with a euphoria he had never felt before. He swallowed the soul, and felt a rush of energy and power. He wanted more.
He looked around, and saw a squirrel running across the road. He aimed the device at it, and pressed the button. The beam hit the squirrel, and it squeaked in pain. It fell to the ground, twitching and convulsing. Greg saw its soul emerge from its body, and he quickly bit into it. It was similar to the raccoon's soul, but smaller and less satisfying. He swallowed it, and felt a slight increase in his euphoria. He wanted more.
He scanned the area, looking for more souls to devour. He saw a bird flying overhead, a dog barking in a yard, a cat napping on a porch. He tried to hit them with the beam, but they were too fast or too far away. He cursed, and felt a pang of frustration. He wanted more.
He got back into his car, and drove away. He decided to go to a more populated place, where he could find more souls to feed on. He didn't care if they were human or not, he just wanted to taste them, to feel them, to consume them. He was addicted to souls.
He drove to the city center, where he saw crowds of people walking, talking, laughing, living. He felt a surge of hunger and greed. He parked his car in a no-parking zone, and got out with his device. He walked among the people, pretending to be a normal pedestrian, but secretly aiming the device at them. He pressed the button, and hit a woman with the beam. She gasped, and clutched her chest. She looked around, confused and scared. She didn't see Greg, who had already bitten into her soul. It was different from the animal souls. It was bigger, more complex, more diverse. It had more flavors, more sensations, more emotions. It was delicious, and it made Greg feel ecstatic. He swallowed the soul, and felt a surge of energy and power. He wanted more.
He hit a man with the beam, and bit into his soul. He hit a child with the beam, and bit into his soul. He hit an old lady with the beam, and bit into her soul. He hit a teenager with the beam, and bit into her soul. He hit a cop with the beam, and bit into his soul. He didn't care who they were, what they did, how they felt. He just wanted their souls, and he took them. He felt a wave of euphoria and power. He wanted more.
He was about to hit another person with the beam, when he heard a siren behind him. He turned around, and saw another cop car pulling up next to his car. He realized he had been spotted, and he had to get away. He ran to his car, but the cop got out and chased him. He shouted at Greg to stop, and drew his gun. Greg reached his car, and opened the door. He threw the device inside, and tried to get in. The cop caught up with him, and grabbed his arm. He tried to pull Greg out of the car, and pointed the gun at his head. He told Greg to drop the device, and put his hands behind his head. Greg panicked, and felt a surge of anger and fear. He wanted to escape, and he wanted to hurt the cop. He remembered the device, and had an idea. He reached for the device, and pressed the button. He aimed the beam at the cop's chest, and hit him with it. The cop screamed, and let go of Greg. He fell to the ground, writhing and moaning. Greg saw his soul emerge from his body, and he bit into it. It was bitter, and it made Greg feel sick. He spat it out, and felt a wave of disgust and guilt. He realized what he had done, and he felt a pang of remorse. He didn't want to hurt anyone, he didn't want to kill anyone. He wanted to stop.
He got into his car, and drove away. He left the device behind, and hoped that no one would find it. He hoped that no one would know what he had done. He hoped that he could forget what he had done. He hoped that he could overcome his addiction to souls. He hoped that he could be normal again. He hoped that he could be forgiven. He hoped that he could be human again.
Анатолий Бурый 22.07.2023 10:43 • Заявить о нарушении