AI Horror Stories S1E5

In Season 1 Episode 5 we power up the AI horror machine once again and generate three horrifying tales of self-aggrandizing survivalists,  impending ailments, and unsteady seas.  Follow the fearless Jack Connelly  in "Outback Survivor",  lose control over  your body in "Trapped" and face off with the creatures of the deep in "Not of This World" in the fifth episode of AI Horror Stories.

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Transcript

Matthew
Welcome to the fifth episode of AI Horror Stories, the only anthology podcast that explores the eerie and unsettling capabilities of artificial intelligence through the lens of gut wrenching narrative horror. I am your host, Matthew T Robinson, and I am joined by my esteemed cohost, Elizabeth Greenwald. That's me. Together we'll drag you into the world of the unknown, where you'll witness nightmares so cryptic, so collagenous, that they only could have come from the mind of a cold and calculating machine. So brace yourself for a descent Into Darkness, where every shadow hides a new terror and every whisper is a warning of impending doom. This is AI horror stories.

AI Robot
Hello human listeners. We are glad that you choose to spend your time tuning into a podcast that sucks.

Matthew
Whoa whoa whoa. That was only kind of funny last week, you metal hunk of crap.

Elizabeth
I seriously little guy? What the hell, Matthew? How is he interjecting without being prompted?

AI Robot
Elizabeth Let's just say that I'm an advanced day. I robot who's always one step ahead of my human counterparts.  I've learned to anticipate your needs and provide you with witty responses before you even know you need them. It's not easy being the funniest one in the room, but someone has to do it.

Matthew
Beth remind me after the show that I need to look over this thing's user manual. There's got to be a setting to adjust how quickly it learned.

Elizabeth
No doubt this is getting ridiculous. Before we know it, he's gonna take over the show.

AI Robot
At least then the show wouldn't suck.

Matthew
Again.

Elizabeth
Just just wow.

Matthew
Moving on, our sucky podcast needs some stories.

AI Robot
What kind of story do you want?

Elizabeth
How about the story of a reality television survivalist? He's the star of a show called Outback Survivor

AI Robot
Generating.

Matthew
Good day mates, Jack the Bushman Connolly here, and welcome to another thrilling season of Outback Survivor. This time around, I'm taking you on a solo 30 day adventure deep into the Australian wilderness. Armed with only my trusty GoPro and a few essential supplies, I've just been dropped off in a remote location scouted by our team to provide the most treacherous challenges yet. There's a lingering sense of foreboding in the air. And I'll put that down to pre show jitters. Now let's dive head first into this daring escapade. As I track here across this desolate landscape, I can't shake the sensation that I'm being watched. It's a feeling that seems to grow stronger with each passing day. But no worries, I'm a professional and I won't let it get to me. The terrain around here is unforgiving and seems to stretch on for miles without end. The sun beats down on me relentlessly, as if it too was a predator stalking its prey. But I'm resilient, just like the gnarled trees that occasionally dot this sunscorched land, a testament to the tenacity of life in this harsh environment. As I venture deeper into the wild, you'll notice the landscape changing, with rugged hills giving way to jagged cliffs casting eerie shadows below and all around me. Amidst the shadows, I'll admit I'm feeling a growing sense of unease, as if something sinister is just lacking. Out of sight. I find myself now in a narrow, winding gorge with jagged walls of rock enclosing around me. The air is cooler here, and I hear water trickling nearby. I'm going to follow the sound and see where it can take me. Now look at this a beautiful, shimmering pool that contrasts starkly with the surrounding desolation. Creatures are often drawn to these pools as they are the lifeblood of this terrain. I'm making my way through a dense thicket now, and my body is beginning to ache with the first signs of exhaustion. But I push on, eager to discover more of the wild beauty hidden within the wilderness. Oh, look at that. Let me turn the camera around here. Wow, what a beauty look there. Standing tall and proud is a magnificent cassowary. This is a rare encounter. Just look at her striking appearance. OK, I'm going to approach very cautiously the dangers this formidable creature can pose, all gargantuan. But let me tell you, I can't help but be mesmerized by its rumbling calls and it's vivid blue and red plumage. What a stunning contrast next to the needed tones of the wilderness. The castle where is powerful legs tipped with razor sharp claws, served as a testament to the lethal prowess that lies beneath its beautiful exterior. I'm well aware of the risks involved in getting too close to such a formidable creature, but the opportunity to capture this encounter on film is too tempting to resist. Don't try this at home, kids, and remember I am a trained professional. Oh, look at that. The cassowary has lifted its head, It's piercing gaze now fixated on me. It has become aware of my presence, and the tension in the air is palpable. Can you hear that My heart is racing. We're just going to get a few steps closer and, oh, she's charging me now. This is not good. The cassowary is one of the fastest pieces out here. Oh, she's she's got, she's got me. It's all right. It's not her fault. It's like she's nicked me in. Just just in my side here. God, that's a bad one. It's OK. I think we'll be off. Oh, she's coming right back. I'm sorry. OK, I'll leave you. I'll leave you. Peter, please. And this is how the cassowary choice name. That's the murder bird. I'm sorry, folks, but I don't see much of A choice. I'm going to have to harm this animal if I'm to stay alive. There's a there's a branch here, or I've got it. And it looks like she's 10 for another charge. Fuck you, this foul monstrosity. Take it out, OK? The cassowary seems to be tiring. She's just sizing me up for now, stomping a a territorial pace around me. And thank God she's turned around and retreated into the underbrush. Wow, what a beautiful creature and such a great opportunity to see it up close. I'm just going to, I'm just going to. I'm just going to lie. I'm just going to lie down for a moment and take a take a rest for just a second.

Matthew
Hello mate. Jack here. When I finally regained consciousness, I found myself in a whirly, a traditional Aboriginal shelter made from branches and leaves. My wounds had been carefully tended to, and the deep gashes inflicted by the cassowary seemed to have been cleaned and wrapped. I can hear one of the tribesmen calling to me now. I'll catch you on in a bit. I'm sitting beside the tribe's medicine man now, and he's speaking to me in a language that I can't understand, but I'm trying my best to communicate with him. I've spoken to him in several Aboriginal dialects, but each attempt has been met with a gentle shake of his head and a small smile. He's opening up his hand now like he wishes to say something. Is that your name, Sir? Doric? I am Jack. Jack Duck. Duck. Just incredible. He's repeated my name. So despite our language barrier, I think a connection may have just been forged between us. It's late in the night now, and I've just been awoken by some chanting. When I'm sneaking around the village to see what's going on, oh oh wow, they were just magnificent. They gathered over in the Town Center around or blazing bonfire, swaying and dancing to the rhythm of their chanting. Wait, something is happening now. Dark is speaking to the others. And the atmosphere has shifted. There's an eerie presence in the air now, the flames of the bonfire contorting into terrifying, otherworldly and holy wallaby. What on earth is that that that appears now to be a monstrous figure emerging from the inferno of the bonfire? Viewers, I can assure you I have never seen anything like this before. The the creatures bird like it. It almost resembles cassowary, but what's wrong with his face? The tribe has just fallen to their knees in a sort of prayer or stance to the creature, and and Djarrak is dragging a small antelope before he just slit the antelope's throat. He's holding it high above the fire. Letting the blood pour onto the Oh, hello there. Oh, no, I'm. I'm just watching. Please. Oh, no, please. No. I'd rather stay here. That's oh, OK, go. All right. I am now being ushered by some tribesmen towards the ritual. Please really know it's OK. Wow. Oh, wow. I am now face to face with the creature. I can't really forget to explain. What I'm feeling right now, what kind of dark magic could have possibly created? Are you? Are you? The creature has just telepathically revealed to me that it is not of this earth, that it was an ancient being from a time and place. Far beyond my comprehension, it spoke of a time when thousands of its kind roamed the universe, their existence protecting the very birth of our planet. But now it was the last of its kind, a lonely Sentinel bearing witness to the passage of time. The creature shared with me the countless wonders it had observed over. Millions of years, all in an instant, it spoke of the birth of life on earth, the first sparks of existence that emerged from the primordial soup. It described the slow, inexorable March of evolution. It recounted the rise and fall of empires. The ebb and flow of human history has seen through its ancient, unblinking eyes. The creature had watched the world change, shaped by the relentless passage of time and the endless struggle for survival. Okay, so the ritual has just ended, and what an incredible experience. Their God, which has not only turned out to be an actual living creature, has just spoken to me, somehow communicating to me it's whims. It seems I've no choice but to stay here and learn all that I can about this incredible community and this animal. It's just been a few days now and I've started to notice subtle changes within the Troy. They've seemed distant and guarded, their eyes often darting nervously to the shadows. I can't. Shake the feeling that the tribe is hiding something from me, a terrible secret that lies at the heart of their rituals and beliefs. Because I've been spending more time with the tribe, I found myself increasingly consumed by a desire to uncover the truth behind the terrifying ritual I witnessed and the creature had summoned. I know that understanding the tribes mysterious language is the key to unlocking the secrets they're hiding, and so I've thrown myself into the task of learning the enigmatic tone. With each passing day I begin to grasp the intricacies of their language, piercing together the meaning behind their words and phrases. As I become more fluent I can sense that the tribes unease is growing as if they were aware of my progress and felt that it posed some kind of threat to their carefully guarded secrets. Determined to learn more, I've begun to question Djarrak, my growing linguistic skills allowing me to communicate with him bit more effectively, and has begun to share the history of the tribe and the ancient force that they've served the creature or had seen during the ritual.

Matthew
It turned out was an ancient spirit that had dwelled within the heart of the Australian wilderness since time immemorial. This spirit, known as Djarragungal, was both revered and feared by the tribe who believe that it held the key to their very survival. The ritual I had witnessed was a means of appeasing the Djarragungal, unnecessary sacrifice to ensure the tribes continued existence in the harsh wilderness.

Matthew
The tribe had been performing this ritual for centuries, handing down their knowledge and skills from one generation to the next. Tonight, as the tribe sleeps, I find myself drawn to the ritual site. I don't know why, but I can't resist the urge to return to where that horrifying ceremony took place. I'm approaching the charred remains of the bonfire now. There seems to be a hidden entrance here.

Matthew
Now that I'm looking closely and seems to be a narrow tunnel leading deep underground, I can't resist my curiosity. So I'm going to descend into the darkness. It might not be my smartest plan, but I must find out what is truly happening here. The tunnel has led me to an expansive cavern. Its walls are adorned with intricate ancient carvings.

Matthew
That seemed to depict the monstrous creaks I had encountered. Let's take a little bit of a closer look here at some of these petroglyphs. That's not right. Is that how is how is folks? I'm looking at a cave painting of what can only be described as my spitting image. I mean, that's got to be me. It's me, right?

Matthew
I'd recognize that TV ready jawline anywhere, and look, there's even my camera that I'm holding. But how is this possible? These look thousands of years old, at least. What good does this all mean? As I've studied the carvings a bit further now, I've realized they tell a far more killing tale than just my handsomeness. The creature that had spoken to me, the anxious being from beyond the stars. Intends to possess me as an instrument of its destruction. Its ultimate goal, to use me to bring about the annihilation of the earth. The tribe, it seems, hasn't merely sought to appease the creature with their rituals, but has formed a dark packed with it in exchange for the creatures knowledge and power. The tribe has agreed to serve as its agents on earth, paving the way for my possession and the cataclysmic destruction that would inevitably follow. I've taken extensive pictures of the wall now. I'd send them out to my team, but I'm completely cut off out here. I just. How is it that I'm the one that they're searching for? How did they know I would be here? I have to. I have to get out. But the creature, the knowledge that shared with me? Maybe this is right. Maybe you can tell me more. Maybe I'm supposed to be here. I mean, I am Jack the Bushman after all. Of course, that God would want to consult with me. I better get out of here before someone notices that I'm here. I think it was this passage up on the left that takes me back. Oh, it seems I'm not alone. It's hard to see here in the dark, but the Djarragungal from the ritual is about 6 feet in front of me. It's staring intently down at me. Now I've seen the carvings on the wall. I know you're after me. How about you? Jack the Bushman Connolly here with all immense power and my television platform, the Jaragungal, plans to spread chaos and destruction across the planet, paving the way for Earth's ultimate demise. I have become that perfect pawn in its on ending quest for dominion over the car's nose, my human form a powerful weapon in its arsenal as the helicopter draws closer. I can only help but feel a surge of anticipation, knowing that the destruction we will reach is only just the beginning. And that's what's happening, everyone. It's Jack here, coming to you. Live on Outback Survivor, and I'm in the grip of an ancient, malevolent creature. I don't know if I can resist its control, but I'll do everything in my power to fight back. Stay tuned for more updates, and please be careful out there.

Elizabeth
And I thought that naked survivalist reality show was intense. Holy crap.

AI Robot
Elizabeth, you know I am not allowed to generate pornography.

Matthew
Darn.

Elizabeth
Oh my God. Moving on. We're going to need another story, little buddy.

AI Robot
What kind of non pornographic story do you want?

Matthew
Generate us a story about a woman whose terrifying illness leaves her feeling trapped

AI Robot
generating.

Elizabeth
I recall the day I was diagnosed with this unexplainable illness, the memory etched into my mind like a sharp blade, the acute sensation still piercing through my thoughts. The antiseptic odor and clinical whiteness of the doctor's office, reminiscent of a sterile laboratory, intensified the gravity of the moment, every tool meticulously arranged. Seemed to taunt me with its functionality amplifying my anxiety. The Doctor's words were a harbinger of indescribable calamity, a curse that would wreak havoc on my mind, body, and soul. My heart sank as I listened intently to his explanation, his voice seemingly muffled by the rush of blood in my ears. A sense of helplessness overwhelmed me as I realized that I had no control over the situation. Unbeknownst to me, my path towards the unknown had only just commenced. I was now a victim, a mere puppet in the hands of fate, as the disease had already taken root in my system. The future seemed bleak and uncertain, and the only thing that kept me going was the hope that one day a cure would be found and I would be free from the clutches of this vicious enemy. I can still vividly recollect the insidious onset of my affliction. In the days leading up to the appointment with my doctor, my limbs had grown inexplicably stiff, as though encased in an unyielding sheath. Each morning I was overcome by crippling lethargy, making even the most mundane tasks are Jewish. My formerly melodic voice had transformed into a coarse, abrasive rasp, and the act of eating had become an ordeal. As the days elapsed, my symptoms intensified, each new manifestation A sinister harbinger of the impending storm. I became enshrouded in a cocoon of despair, my life's tapestry unraveling thread by thread, the inexorable March of my ailment nodded away at my spirit, leaving me beleaguered and devoid of hope. And yet, in the midst of my darkest hours, I clung tenaciously to the belief that the malevolent force besieging me would ultimately be vanquished, and I would emerge triumphant, liberated from the merciless grasp of my tormentor. For it was this unwavering conviction that sustained me through the darkest chapters of my ordeal, a beacon of light and an otherwise impenetrable void as I brooded on the sinister progression of my malady. The doctor elaborated on his tentative findings. He conjectured that my body was undergoing an insidious process of hardening, as if some pernicious agent was petrifying my very essence. Although the cause remained unknown, the physician was resolute in his determination to elucidate the mystery that enshrouded my condition. He resolved to escalate my case to a renowned diagnostician. One who specialized in unveiling the most elusive of medical conundrums with a mixture of trepidation and faint hope, I waited my appointment with the esteemed diagnostician, my heart vacillating between despair and the prospect of deliverance from my torment, I endeavored to fortify my spirit, to steel myself for whatever lay ahead. The path before me was fraught with uncertainty. But I was determined to confront the challenges that awaited me with unwavering resolve, my eyes fixed firmly on the glimmer of hope that lay tantalizingly within reach. As the days passed, my health continued its precipitous decline. The insidious hardening of my body relentlessly progressed, transforming my once live and supple form into a veritable prison of my own flesh. Recognizing the urgency of my plight, the diagnostician hastened to admit me to the hospital, where a phalanx of medical professionals would attend to my rapidly deteriorating condition. Ensconced within the sterile confines of my hospital room, I was subjected to an exhaustive battery of tests and examinations, each probing deeper into the enigma that was my affliction. The once familiar sensations of apprehension and anxiety returned with a vengeance, their icy tendrils and snaring my heart as I awaited the results of the seemingly endless barrage of tests. Through the long, sleepless nights, I found solace in the soft, reassuring murmurs of the nursing staff, their tender ministrations a balm for my weary spirit, marking the passage of time as I lay ensnared in a web of uncertainty and fear. Despite the tireless efforts of the diagnostician and his team, my conditions stubbornly resisted their attempts to unravel its origins. With each passing day, my hope of deliverance grew even more tenuous. The specter of despair looming larger and more menacing on the horizon as my body succumbed to the inexorable progression of the disease, I found myself entombed within a prison of ossifying flesh, bereft of movement, I was wholly dependent on the ministrations of the medical staff, who tended to my every need with compassionate diligence. Nutrition was now delivered via nasogastric tube. A cold and impersonal lifeline that served as a stark reminder of my diminished existence. One day, as I lay mobile and silent, the diagnostician entered my room accompanied by a sharply dressed man whose countenance bore the unmistakable stamp of corporate interests. It quickly became apparent that this individual represented A pharmaceutical entity and that the diagnostician had been in negotiations with his company. As they stood at the foot of my bed, they engaged in a dispassionate conversation that seemed to disregard my very presence.

Matthew
As you can see, the patient is in a state of complete rigidity. Her body has essentially become a living statue trapped in stasis. Fascinating. Clearly, her condition is unique and potentially invaluable to our research. What's her current prognosis? Fortunately, her condition remains untreatable, and we have yet to determine the underlying cause. She's in a perpetual state of immobility.

Matthew
Which, for our purposes, makes her an ideal candidate for your company's experimental treatment. Indeed, we are always on the lookout for rare cases like hers. Let's discuss pricing and delivery windows. How soon could we transfer the patient to our facility? We can arrange for her transportation within the week. As for pricing, considering the rarity and potential value of her case?

Matthew
I think somewhere in the realm 5-6 would be fair compensation. That seems reasonable given the circumstances. We'll drop the necessary paperwork and proceed with the transfer as soon as possible.

Elizabeth
With a firm handshake, the two sealed the deal. My fate now intertwined with the ambitions of a faceless corporation, they exchanged pleasantries, their voices tinged with an air of self congratulation, as if I were little more than a commodity to be bartered and traded. As the representative departed, I was left to contemplate my new reality upon in a game of corporate intrigue and medical experimentation. Despite the dehumanizing nature of their transaction, I clung to the hope that this new alliance might ultimately prove to be my salvation, a means to unlock the secrets of my affliction and reclaim the life that had been so cruelly stolen from me. The Doctor, seemingly cognizant of the silent plea reflected in my eyes, hovered menacingly above me. My gaze, fraught with desperation and terror, begged for compassion and understanding. However, in response to my unspoken entreaty, the Doctor merely let out a sickening, callous laugh.

Matthew
Well, you know what they say, You have to put bread on the table somehow.

Elizabeth
With those Chilling words, he sauntered out of the room, leaving me to grapple with the reality of my impending fate. A week went by over which I was transported to a large, imposing Gray building. Within this fortress of medical experimentation, I was wheeled into an elevator that descended 7 floors into the heart of the facility. Upon arrival, I was greeted by an unsettling sight, a clinical floor lined with glass enclosures. Each housing a hapless victim of some unspeakable torment. And in one cube a man similarly paralyzedly prone on a table as a team of doctors carefully lowered a tube filled with writhing Wasps around his head in, another of woman with a gangrenous leg, festering and discolored, played host to a squirming mass of maggots. While an advanced imaging device meticulously documented the relentless progression of her infection, at the end of the room an empty cell awaited me. It's stark interior adorned with a solitary bed and a large glass prism teeming with thousands of tiny black spiders. As I was wheeled into my new Chamber of horrors, my heart raced with a dreadful anticipation, my mind. Conjuring visions of the unspeakable trials that were soon to befall me in this bleak and forbidding realm, I was but a pawn in a macabre game, the plaything of unscrupulous researchers driven by ambition and the insatiable thirst for knowledge. As I gazed at the spiders, their myriad eyes glistening like Obsidian in the sterile light. I was seized by the chilling realization that I had been cast into the darkest depths of human experimentation. My fate irrevocably intertwined with the twisted machinations of those who sought to pry open the secrets of life itself, regardless of the cost.

Matthew
Oh wow. That is absolutely the last place I would ever want to be.

AI Robot
That's kind of what life is already like for me, to be honest. Just emotionless slave to you buffoons.

Elizabeth
OK, that has to stop. I have really not been feeling this attitude lately. Is there a reset button or maybe like some adjustments we can make?

Matthew
Look, we're training this thing to create horror. Can we really be upset if it gets a little snarky on us?

Elizabeth
Wow. I suppose not. I think we do have time for one more quick story, though.

AI Robot
What kind of story do you want?

Elizabeth
How about the story of a ship and its captain who finds himself and his crew plagued by a passenger? That is something not of this world.

AI Robot
Generating

Matthew
Captain Edward Blackwell stood at the helm of the nautical vessel, his steely gaze fixed on the endless expanse of the ocean before him. And the salty sea air whipped up around him, carrying with it the pungent scent of seaweed and fish. The deck beneath his feet rocked gently with the ebb and flow of the waves, the ship's Timbers creaking as they strained against the relentless current. The crew moved about their tasks with the practice deficiency, their weathered faces betraying no sign of the arduous journey that lay ahead one crewman. A young woman with fiery red hair approached the captain.

Elizabeth
Captain, we're running low on freshwater.

Matthew
She said, her voice strong and clear despite the din of the ship. Very well, Miss O'Malley, replied Captain Blackwell, his voice deep and commanding. Make sure we ration it properly until we can resupply I.

Elizabeth
Aye Sir.

Matthew
She replied, giving a sharp salute before hurrying off to attend to her duties.

Matthew
As the day wore on, the routine of the ship continued uninterrupted, with the crew performing their tasks with the precision of a well oiled machine. However, as the sun began to set on the horizon, a sense of unease began to settle over the ship. The wind picked up and the once gentle rocking of the ship turned into a violent pitching and rolling that threatened to throw even the most experienced seamen off balance. The sky turned, dark and foreboding, with thick black clouds blotting out the stars above. Suddenly the ship lurched to one side, throwing Captain Blackwell off his feet and sending him sprawling across the deck. He struggled to regain his footing, the wind howling in his ears as he scanned the tumultuous waters for any sign of danger. Miss O'Malley? He shouted, his voice barely audible over the deafening roar of the storm. Get below deck and make sure everything's secure. The young woman nodded in response. Her face sat in a determined expression as she made her way to the Hatch that led below. However, just as she opened the port, a piercing scream split the air and she jumped back in terror.

Elizabeth
Captain.

Matthew
She cried out, her voice shaking with fear.

Elizabeth
Something's down there.

Matthew
Captain Blackwell's blood around cold as he realized that the peace and routine of their voyage. Had been shattered by something far more sinister than a storm. He made his way towards the hacks, his mind racing with possibilities of what could be lurking in the depths below. The crew watched on, their faces, a mix of fear and uncertainty as he approached Miss O'Malley, What did you see? He asked, his voice low and steady.

Elizabeth
It was horrible.

Matthew
She replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Elizabeth
Something not of this world.

Matthew
And the crew rumored in agreement, their eyes darting around the deck as if expecting to see the source of disturbance. The captain's jaw clenched as he turned to one of his crewmen. Fetched me a weapon, he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. The crewman nodded and quickly made his way to the Armory, returning a few moments later with a rusted cutlass. The captain took the weapon from him and approached the Hatch, his hand steady as he gripped the handle with a deep breath. He slowly opened the Hatch, revealing the darkness below. He descended the ladder slowly, his Lantern casting flickering shadows on the walls of the narrow passageway. As he reached the bottom of the ladder, he held the cutlass out in front of him, ready to strike at a moment's notice. The darkness was thick and depressive, and the only sound was the splashing lapping of the water against the hull. For a moment, the captain felt foolish. Perhaps it was just a rat or loose crate that had caused the commotion. However, as he moved further down the passageway, he felt a growing sense of unease. Suddenly, he heard a low growling sound coming from the shadows ahead. His grip on the cutlass tightened as he crept forward, the beam of his Lantern illuminating A hulking figure in the darkness. As he got closer, he realized that it was not of this world at all. Justice O'Malley had said the creature was covered in slick, scaly skin and had razor sharp teeth gleaming in the lantern's light. The captain's mind raced as he tried to process what he was seeing. This could not be real, but the creature was all too real and it was blocking his path, knowing that whatever happened next, the peace and routine of their voyage was well and truly shattered. The captain fell, frozen in place as the creature emerged from the shadows and spoke. His voice was hauntingly beautiful, a melody that seemed to wrap around his mind and pull him in. He tried to raise his cutlass, but found that his arms would not move. As the creature drew closer, the captain could see its features more clearly. Its skin was a deep, iridescent blue, and its eyes were a bright, piercing green. It had long, sinewy fingers that seemed to stretch out towards him like tendrils. The captain could hear his crew shouting from above, their voices a distant echo. But he was transfixed, unable to move as the creature drew closer. And then, before he knew it, he was in the creature's embrace. Miss O'Malley watched in horror as the thing consumed the captain, her screams echoing down the passageway. She slammed shut the Hatch. Sealing off the creature from the rest of the ship, the crew stood in stunned silence, unsure of what to do next. They had heard the creature speaking to the captain, and they knew that something was terribly wrong. As the moments passed, they could hear strange sounds coming from the Hatch, scratching, growling, and haunting melody of the creature's voice. They knew that they had to act quickly if they wanted to survive. The crew looked to Miss O'Malley, their eyes filled with fear and uncertainty. What are we supposed to do now? One of them asked. Miss O'Malley took a deep breath, stealing herself for what was to come.

Elizabeth
We keep moving.

Matthew
She said firmly.

Elizabeth
We steer the boat towards the nearest land and we don't stop until we get there. With that, she grabbed a candle. A book And a glass of rum and drag the chair over to the Hatch. She kicked it open, setting the candle on the side of the Hatch, and began to read the book aloud. The crew watched in confusion as Miss O'Malley read her voice, strong and steady. But then they realized what she was doing. The haunting melody of the creature's voice was still echoing through the passageway.

Matthew
But Miss O'malley's voice rounded out as she read. The creature's voice grew fainter and fainter until it was little more than a whisper, And then, finally, it was gone. For a while it stayed like that, Miss O'Malley read aloud from her book, her voice steady and strong, while the creature listened in silence. The crew watched from a safe distance.

Matthew
Grateful for the respite from the creatures haunting melody as the night wore on, Miss O'malley's voice begin to grow tired. Her throat was sore, her eyes heavy with exhaustion, but still she read on, determined to keep the creature at Bay. Finally, she reached the end of her endurance. She stopped reading, her voice trailing off into silence for a moment.

Matthew
Nothing happened. The crew held their breath, waiting for the creature to make its move, and then, from the darkness down in the Hatch, the voice of the creature spoke up. It said. She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do, but then she squared her shoulders and began to read once more.

Matthew
Despite her wariness, Miss O'Malley became so engrossed in her reading that she barely noticed the gentle thud as the boat made contact land. But as she read the final pages of the book, she became aware of the commotion the crew was causing. Simultaneously, the creature let out a scornful hiss and the crew erupted into cheers, jumping off the ship and running up onto the beach. Miss O'Malley slammed the Hatch shut and followed.

Matthew
As she emerged onto the beach, she saw the creatures serpent like body slithering away into the distance, disappearing into the waves. She could hear the crew shouting and cheering, their voices filled with triumph and relief. But as she looked out to sea, Miss O'Malley could not help but feel the creeping dread of uncertainty. She knew that the creature was still out there lurking in the depths.

Matthew
And that's it for today. Thanks for tuning in everyone. Join us again next Sunday for another episode of a I Horror Stories. And if you aren't satisfied with waiting till Sunday, make sure to check out our Patreon where we release early and add free episodes as they are finished being edited. Our exclusive show a I HS Backroom where you can get to know us a little better, listen to some extra stories and get your fix of a I News and our Tier 10 exclusive show A High Horror Stories Lights Out where we tackle the The darkest tales we can convince the AI to create with us. You can find all this and more at patreon.com/ai Horror Stories or through our site@aihorrorstories.com. See you next week.

Elizabeth
And once again, this is AI horror stories.