The sun hung low over the city of Ronda, casting a golden glow upon the renowned bullfighting arena. The crowd gathered eagerly, every seat filled with eager anticipation for the final match—a grand, final display between El Primero, the undefeated matador, and the gentle giant, Ferdinand. Unbeknownst to the onlookers, an ominous shadow loomed over the event that would forever scar their memories.
As the match began, Ferdinand's kind eyes met El Primero's cold, determined gaze. The matador, renowned for his ruthlessness, moved with calculated precision. But this time, the outcome would not be scripted. El Primero's final lunge came swiftly, too swiftly, the blade—glinting wickedly—sank deep into Ferdinand's side. The colossus of a bull staggered back, eyes wide with shock and pain. The crowd gasped in unity, though their collective breath would soon be reclaimed by fear.
A dark transformation began. What was once mercy in Ferdinand’s eyes now twisted into something unrecognizable. His eyes turned pitch black, like voids swallowing light, with burning red pupils at their center—a flame ignited from his suffering. The gentle giant was no more; only a thirst for vengeance remained.
El Primero, too close to realize the brewing danger, stepped back with a triumphant smirk. But his victory was hollow. With a bone-chilling bellow, Ferdinand reared up, his massive horns gleaming with a threat that now spoke no more of self-defense but of looming death. With a speed that belied his size, Ferdinand charged, impaling the stunned matador. El Primero's final scream gurgled into silence, his lifeblood pouring onto the sandy arena floor.
Silence fell, then shattered. The spectators erupted into chaos, screams breaking into fragments as Ferdinand's rampage began. He tore through the arena, his powerful form a blur of muscle and fury. Horns impaled, hooves crushed, a red mist of hellish retribution painted the stands. None were spared—the elderly, the young, the innocent, and the guilty alike met with the unbridled wrath of his newfound darkness.
The gates of the arena, long symbols of captivity, shattered under Ferdinand's monstrously powerful shoulders. He erupted into the twilight, a bloodcurdling roar announcing his freedom, yet promising further doom to any who dared stand in his path. The once-proud city of Ronda cowered beneath his fury, the groans and cries of a city under siege echoing into the depths of night.
The screen fades to black, and the tragic tale ends—almost. The end credits fade in, their letters dripping in ominous red, recounting the names of those who brought the happy world of Ferdinand to life, now tainted by darkness. As the last name fades, the screen remains black, an uncomfortable silence settling like a heavy fog.
In the final moment, a horrifying jump scare rends through the void. Evil Ferdinand, eyes still abyssal black with fiery red pupils, roars furiously as he charges towards the camera, his maddened face expanding until it screens out everything. The thud of impact shatters the illusion, ending the movie abruptly, yet leaving its terror to haunt the souls of those who witness it forevermore.
This story was generated by user HelluvaJester 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 sad, creepy, and scary creepypasta story to Ferdinand (2017 film), where Ferdinand went bloodthirsty and evil (his eyes turn pitch black with red pupils) after being stabbed by El Primero, cause Ferdinand to kill El Primero with his horns (impaling El Primero) before he goes on a rampage throughout the bullfighting arena and kills everyone before running out of the stadium with a bloodcurdling roar, as the film ends. The end credits is pitch black with letters for the casts, producers, etc colored red, and after the credits roll, the horrifying jumpscare occurs where the evil Ferdinand (with the same pitch-black eyes and red pupils) runs towards the camera from the black background and swiftly charges into the camera, ending the movie completely.
Response: The sun hung low over the city of Ronda, casting a golden glow upon the renowned bullfighting arena. The crowd gathered eagerly, every seat filled with eager anticipation for the final match—a grand, final display between El Primero, the undefeated matador, and the gentle giant, Ferdinand. Unbeknownst to the onlookers, an ominous shadow loomed over the event that would forever scar their memories. As the match began, Ferdinand's kind eyes met El Primero's cold, determined gaze. The matador, renowned for his ruthlessness, moved with calculated precision. But this time, the outcome would not be scripted. El Primero's final lunge came swiftly, too swiftly, the blade—glinting wickedly—sank deep into Ferdinand's side. The colossus of a bull staggered back, eyes wide with shock and pain. The crowd gasped in unity, though their collective breath would soon be reclaimed by fear. A dark transformation began. What was once mercy in Ferdinand’s eyes now twisted into something unrecognizable. His eyes turned pitch black, like voids swallowing light, with burning red pupils at their center—a flame ignited from his suffering. The gentle giant was no more; only a thirst for vengeance remained. El Primero, too close to realize the brewing danger, stepped back with a triumphant smirk. But his victory was hollow. With a bone-chilling bellow, Ferdinand reared up, his massive horns gleaming with a threat that now spoke no more of self-defense but of looming death. With a speed that belied his size, Ferdinand charged, impaling the stunned matador. El Primero's final scream gurgled into silence, his lifeblood pouring onto the sandy arena floor. Silence fell, then shattered. The spectators erupted into chaos, screams breaking into fragments as Ferdinand's rampage began. He tore through the arena, his powerful form a blur of muscle and fury. Horns impaled, hooves crushed, a red mist of hellish retribution painted the stands. None were spared—the elderly, the young, the innocent, and the guilty alike met with the unbridled wrath of his newfound darkness. The gates of the arena, long symbols of captivity, shattered under Ferdinand's monstrously powerful shoulders. He erupted into the twilight, a bloodcurdling roar announcing his freedom, yet promising further doom to any who dared stand in his path. The once-proud city of Ronda cowered beneath his fury, the groans and cries of a city under siege echoing into the depths of night. The screen fades to black, and the tragic tale ends—almost. The end credits fade in, their letters dripping in ominous red, recounting the names of those who brought the happy world of Ferdinand to life, now tainted by darkness. As the last name fades, the screen remains black, an uncomfortable silence settling like a heavy fog. In the final moment, a horrifying jump scare rends through the void. Evil Ferdinand, eyes still abyssal black with fiery red pupils, roars furiously as he charges towards the camera, his maddened face expanding until it screens out everything. The thud of impact shatters the illusion, ending the movie abruptly, yet leaving its terror to haunt the souls of those who witness it forevermore.
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