Hank had always prided himself on his physique. In his early 30s, he managed to maintain the build of a fitness model through regular and rigorous workouts. A familiar face in the bustling gym, he was well-known among regular visitors and the front desk attendant, Steve, who usually greeted him with a smile and a nod every morning. Today, however, was different.
"Hey," Hank greeted the new attendant with mild curiosity as he scanned his membership card. The new guy seemed out of place with his pale, oddly expressionless face and stiff demeanor.
"You must be Hank," the attendant said in a monotone. "Would you be interested in participating in our new fitness monitoring program?" His fingers, a tad too slender and a touch too long, held up a thin leather collar adorned with a digital display that seemed surprisingly sophisticated.
Intrigued by the possibility of quantifiably monitoring his biometrics, Hank agreed. "Sure, why not," he said, taking the collar without a second thought. He headed to the locker room, changed into his workout clothes, and secured the device around his neck.
In the mirror, the collar glinted with symbols: a full battery icon and a progress bar with a single illuminated section, indicating the recording had commenced. Satisfied, Hank began his workout routine, focusing on arms and chest. Each set brought up another bar on the progress display, and by the time he finished, it was entirely lit.
Casually, he moved to the sauna for a post-workout sweat. The intense heat welcomed him as he leaned back and closed his eyes. Then, the collar buzzed.
"What the...?" Hank muttered, feeling the vibration strengthen with each passing second. Soon, a wave of dizziness washed over him, and he planted his palms against the bench to steady himself. Panic set in as the vibrating reached a crescendo, then abruptly stopped. Hank's head felt strangely heavy, as though it was about to topple off.
Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, his view tilted dramatically. With a sickening thud, his head detached from his neck and landed on the bench. In a surreal haze, Hank found himself staring at his own body, sitting there lifeless yet breathing. The collar now glowed a bright green before its light dimmed completely.
Horror gripped him as he realized he couldn't move his body. He watched, helpless, as his body stood, stretched, and picked up his head. Muffled voices and shadows passed beyond the fogged glass of the sauna’s door, but his silent pleas for help went unheard.
His body, now operating on its own, moved with mechanical precision. It carried Hank's head to the locker room, showered, dressed, and packed his gym bag before exiting the gym. Hank's head jostled in its grip, and through the awkward angle, he glimpsed an 'Out of Order' sign someone had conspicuously placed on the sauna door.
Outside, the new attendant awaited. His expressionless face seemed to brighten with an eerie satisfaction. "Excellent," the attendant said, running his fingers over Hank’s head, "Welcome to the collection."
Hank's body obediently followed the attendant to a car, placed his head on the backseat, and climbed into the passenger seat. Confusion and a growing sense of dread filled Hank as the attendant drove, making casual conversation about observing Hank for months and waiting for this exact opportunity.
The destination was a seemingly unremarkable suburban house. Inside, however, Hank was mortified by what he saw. Heads—many recognizable from the gym—were neatly arranged in wall niches. Each pair of eyes wore the same look of horror and disbelief.
Headless bodies, all wearing identical collars, moved throughout the house, attending to various tasks. The new attendant spoke into the air, and Hank’s body carried him through this house of horrors. Soon, other bodies began to follow them, forming a silent, orderly procession behind.
In the basement, a high-backed chair awaited. Hank's body sat down upon the command of the new attendant, who explained with perverse delight how he controlled these bodies telepathically, creating a collective that operated on his will.
The collar on Hank’s body and the chair's headrest began to glow red, pulsing slowly. After what felt like an eternity, the pulsing turned to a vivid green, and the other bodies dispersed to resume their tasks. Hank’s body stood, walked to a vacant niche, and placed his head there, facing a sea of similarly trapped, horrified captives.
The attendant’s last words echoed in Hank’s mind as his consciousness felt the weight of his new reality. “You are now part of the collective, Hank,” he said, with a chilling finality. As the collar’s green light dimmed, Hank could only stare out, his well-maintained flesh now an instrument of someone else's monstrous symphony.
This story was generated by user bud with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.
Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.
Prompt: write a story about a man named Hank, a strong, strapping in his 30s who works out regularly to maintain his fitness model physique. one day he goes to the gym's front desk and checks in with the attendant, a new guy and not the one he usually sees. as he starts to head to the gym, the attendant asks Hank if he would like to participate in a new fitness monitoring program. the attendant shows him a thin leather collar with a digital display on it, describing it as a data recording device that records various biometrics as he works out. Hank is intrigued and agrees, takes a collar and goes to the locker room. after changing into his workout clothes, he puts on the collar, adjusts it to fit, then takes a look in the mirror before starting his workout. Hank notices the collar's displays a few symbols, what appeared like battery icon showing a full charge, and a progress bar with a single bar showing that recording has started. Hank walks out to the gym floor and starts his usual routine for that day, which happens to be arm and chest day. As he finishes the sets of each exercise, he notices that an additional progress bar illuminates. By the time Hank has finished his entire routine, the progress bar is now full and glowing bright green. Hank walks to the sauna for a post-workout sweat. As he sits alone in the steamy air, he feels the collar start to buzz, slight vibrations that increase in intensity after every few seconds. Hank then starts to feel dizzy and leans against sauna wall and holds himself steady with his arms pressed against the bench. The intensity of the vibrations become strong, and he feels like they are downing out his sensation of over his body. The vibrations come to a sudden halt, and Hank discovers that he has become completely numb below his neck. He gets the strange feeling of his head starting to tilt. His view starts to spin as his head tumbles from his neck, and his head lands with a thud on the bench seat. Hank sees the rest of himself still sitting as before; the display on the collar now was entirely a bright glowing green. After a minute that seemed like an eternity, the display goes black, and Hank watches his body push itself off the bench with its hands and stand up then remain perfectly, its chest moving with deep breaths of the humid air. Hank sees the shadows of people walking past the sauna's fogged glass door and tries to call out for help, but the without lungs his head can only mouth silent pleas. Hank helplessly listens as the voices coming from the gym die down until there is complete silence. Hank's body begins to move, bends down, picks up the head, then exits the sauna to an empty gym. Hank notices that someone had placed an out-of-order sign on the sauna door after he had entered, explaining why no one else was using the sauna. When the body enters the locker room, it puts Hank's head on the counter then goes to shower itself. When it returns, Hank watches it go to his locker, dial the combination to the padlock, take out Hank's clothes and dress itself. Fully-dressed, the body put the workout clothes in Hank's gym back, collects Hank's head, then walks to the front desk where Hank sees the new attendant waiting there expectantly. Hank looks on angrily as the attendant give his body instructions which it unquestioningly obeys, first to drop everything it is carrying and perform bodybuilding poses. The attendant smiles approvingly as the body showcases its well-developed muscles. Satisfied with the body's condition, the attendant picks up Hank's head and tells his body to follow him to the car. The attendant opens the car's passenger side door for Hank's body to climb in and sit, and puts Hank's head on the backseat floor, hidden out of view. The attendant gets into the driver's seat, starts the engine and starts driving to the parking garage exit. As he pulls out of the parking garage and starts driving on the road, the attendant tells Hank that he has been watching him for a while. To Hank's confusion, the attendant also says he was glad that today presented the opportunity to add him to his collection. When they reach their destination, the attendant picks up Hank's head and instructs the body to follow him into the house. Once inside, Hank is shocked to find an array of heads placed in a set of wall niches. One head was of the gym's usual attendant, and the others were of fitness model and bodybuilder gym regulars. Sounds of activity came from other rooms in the house, and now and then a muscular headless body wearing an identical collar would enter the room, walking past in purposeful strides on its way another part of the house. The attendant gives Hank's head to his body to carry, and as he leads it to the basement, headless bodies throughout the house appear to obey an unspoken command to gather behind and follow. when the last one arrives the bodies form into ranks around a solitary high-backed chair in the middle of the room. the attendant tells Hank's body to sit in the chair. the attendant explains to Hank that the bodies in the house form a collective that is telepathically commanded by him. the attendant describes that similar to a person controlling a body that thought, he controls collective except the same way; whatever action he decides, and the bodies will work together to carry out it out, taking advantage of each body's skills and abilities. the attendant tells Hank that his body will now be integrated to the collective. the chair's headrest and collar on Hank's body start to glow in a series of red slow pulses for several minutes, and then in unison the collars on the bodies flash green, including Hank's. in complete silence the bodies leave to continue their tasks except for Hank's body. Disconnected from Hank and compelled by the attendant's will, the body stands up, walks to Hank's head, picks it up, and takes it to one of the vacant wall niches to join the other captive heads.
Response: Hank had always prided himself on his physique. In his early 30s, he managed to maintain the build of a fitness model through regular and rigorous workouts. A familiar face in the bustling gym, he was well-known among regular visitors and the front desk attendant, Steve, who usually greeted him with a smile and a nod every morning. Today, however, was different. "Hey," Hank greeted the new attendant with mild curiosity as he scanned his membership card. The new guy seemed out of place with his pale, oddly expressionless face and stiff demeanor. "You must be Hank," the attendant said in a monotone. "Would you be interested in participating in our new fitness monitoring program?" His fingers, a tad too slender and a touch too long, held up a thin leather collar adorned with a digital display that seemed surprisingly sophisticated. Intrigued by the possibility of quantifiably monitoring his biometrics, Hank agreed. "Sure, why not," he said, taking the collar without a second thought. He headed to the locker room, changed into his workout clothes, and secured the device around his neck. In the mirror, the collar glinted with symbols: a full battery icon and a progress bar with a single illuminated section, indicating the recording had commenced. Satisfied, Hank began his workout routine, focusing on arms and chest. Each set brought up another bar on the progress display, and by the time he finished, it was entirely lit. Casually, he moved to the sauna for a post-workout sweat. The intense heat welcomed him as he leaned back and closed his eyes. Then, the collar buzzed. "What the...?" Hank muttered, feeling the vibration strengthen with each passing second. Soon, a wave of dizziness washed over him, and he planted his palms against the bench to steady himself. Panic set in as the vibrating reached a crescendo, then abruptly stopped. Hank's head felt strangely heavy, as though it was about to topple off. Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, his view tilted dramatically. With a sickening thud, his head detached from his neck and landed on the bench. In a surreal haze, Hank found himself staring at his own body, sitting there lifeless yet breathing. The collar now glowed a bright green before its light dimmed completely. Horror gripped him as he realized he couldn't move his body. He watched, helpless, as his body stood, stretched, and picked up his head. Muffled voices and shadows passed beyond the fogged glass of the sauna’s door, but his silent pleas for help went unheard. His body, now operating on its own, moved with mechanical precision. It carried Hank's head to the locker room, showered, dressed, and packed his gym bag before exiting the gym. Hank's head jostled in its grip, and through the awkward angle, he glimpsed an 'Out of Order' sign someone had conspicuously placed on the sauna door. Outside, the new attendant awaited. His expressionless face seemed to brighten with an eerie satisfaction. "Excellent," the attendant said, running his fingers over Hank’s head, "Welcome to the collection." Hank's body obediently followed the attendant to a car, placed his head on the backseat, and climbed into the passenger seat. Confusion and a growing sense of dread filled Hank as the attendant drove, making casual conversation about observing Hank for months and waiting for this exact opportunity. The destination was a seemingly unremarkable suburban house. Inside, however, Hank was mortified by what he saw. Heads—many recognizable from the gym—were neatly arranged in wall niches. Each pair of eyes wore the same look of horror and disbelief. Headless bodies, all wearing identical collars, moved throughout the house, attending to various tasks. The new attendant spoke into the air, and Hank’s body carried him through this house of horrors. Soon, other bodies began to follow them, forming a silent, orderly procession behind. In the basement, a high-backed chair awaited. Hank's body sat down upon the command of the new attendant, who explained with perverse delight how he controlled these bodies telepathically, creating a collective that operated on his will. The collar on Hank’s body and the chair's headrest began to glow red, pulsing slowly. After what felt like an eternity, the pulsing turned to a vivid green, and the other bodies dispersed to resume their tasks. Hank’s body stood, walked to a vacant niche, and placed his head there, facing a sea of similarly trapped, horrified captives. The attendant’s last words echoed in Hank’s mind as his consciousness felt the weight of his new reality. “You are now part of the collective, Hank,” he said, with a chilling finality. As the collar’s green light dimmed, Hank could only stare out, his well-maintained flesh now an instrument of someone else's monstrous symphony.
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