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Andrew Monsoon
October 17, 2023
Updated October 30, 2023

AI Horror Story: The Boogieman from Darknight

AI Horror Story: The Boogieman from Darknight

Trick or treat!

Halloween is around the corner, and Serverspace launched a new project that merged the creative ideas of worldwide users with the capabilities of artificial intelligence into a unique digital masterpiece. From an array of words collected by users worldwide, the AI crafted a spooky story and illustrated it.

This project isn't just another interactive campaign. It's an exploration of the boundaries where human imagination intersects with technological innovations. We invite you to dive into this exciting experiment! Happy Halloween!

Boogieman from the Darknight

Life was blasting on the neon-lit streets of Darknight. It was the hub of technological advancement, where dreams were woven into lines of code, and reality merged with virtuality. The air buzzed with data all around, like an eternal mist. Anita, a young DevOps engineer, hunched over in her apartment. She was used to receiving odd emails (mostly from clients), but today was different. A sinister message flashed on the screen: "I am going to eat your soul".


Cold sweat formed on her forehead as she read the signature — the fearsome Boogeyman from Darknight. Memories of tales that frightened everyone attending early-grade computer classes raced through her mind: stories of a digital demon that grew stronger by feeding off the greed of tech aficionados. Before Anita could catch her breath and shake off the fear, another alert blinked — the security system detected a brute force attack. As the surrounding walls began to crumble and her computer started to smoke, she realized she was caught in a dangerous game and ran out of the apartment. She knew where she had to rush to.

Anita's frantic footsteps echoed loudly in the cold alleys of Darknight as she sought out the one person who might help her – Sir Samuel Vimes. The mage, known for his unparalleled knowledge, played his clandestine game from the backroom of the "Echo of The Dark Knight" pub, aiding those who had also fallen prey to the Boogeyman. "Echo of The Dark Knight" was a true haven for techies. Sir Samuel Vimes had opened this pub a decade ago as a haven for those victimized by the Boogeyman. Every soul in Darknight knew him to be a friend. As Anita entered the pub, she felt the weight of many stares, including the gaze of a mysterious man named Timbuktu, who sat in the shadows, smoking his pipe and intermittently coughing. After hearing Anita's story, Mr. Vimes pulled out two cut-glass tumblers from under the counter, filled them with rum, and informed our heroine that Timbuktu was the only person to have faced the Boogeyman and lived to tell the tale. He looked at Anita and confidently gestured to an empty chair at Timbuktu's table, and Anita understood – she needed to sit.


Sir Samuel Vimes, silhouetted against the dim glow of myriad screens, listened attentively. "The Boogeyman's game is old, older than any code", Timbuktu muttered. "You need to navigate the intricacies and traps of his digital domain". He told her about the eyes that stalk players – eyes devoid of sclera, filled only with a void so deep that it reflects humanity's darkest fears. At that moment, another message arrived at Anita's cell phone – it contained equally terrifying contents, a list of tasks that the Boogeyman demanded she complete to stay alive. Realizing there was no hiding from the hooded terror, Anita resignedly rose from her chair, made her way to the exit, and gave one last glance to the inebriated local tech drunkards. Day by day, Anita would check the task list, do what she could, and slowly forge ahead, as if she was progressing through the plot of her favorite computer game, "Cyberpunk: Unity".

For every puzzle solved, Anita received a reward. These weren't sweet candies but rather intriguing artifacts: a rusty chest whispering of ancient tales, a vessel filled with sticky resin shimmering peculiarly, and, curiously, a potato meticulously carved into the shape of a menacing skull. However, not all riddles yielded to her understanding – with every failure, she felt a digital noose tightening around her neck. She heard the ghostly echo of the Boogeyman's laughter, sensed the chill of his presence, and saw data clusters in her apartment corrode with a grating sound that resonates deep within her soul.


While Anita's fear was palpable, her curiosity persisted, and every reward seemed tantalizing. But the city's shadows whispered a warning: Not all players emerge alive. And as Darknight's streets grew darker, it felt like the light dimmed in sync with Anita's faltering heart. The stakes had never been higher, and time was running thin... Glancing at the task list, Anita ventured into the Catacombs.

The Darknight Catacombs harbored many secrets. Beneath the city's bustling streets, in one of the ancient chambers, Anita stumbled upon the legendary Sacred Juicer. Its images were depicted in every history textbook, street banners, and engravings. Engraved on the side of the juicer was a verse, speaking of its power and the way to wield it. With reverence, she followed the inscribed directions, placing a ripe peach found nearby into the juicer. Golden, luminescent juice flowed into the container.


Then she lit a mysterious candle she had received as one of the "rewards". When the wax fully melted, Anita mixed it with the peach juice. The room was filled with a fluorescent green light and a pungent acrid smell. Then, visions began. Horrifying scenes played out: the elongated, shadowy form of Boogeyman combined with quasi-humanoid creatures and performed some enigmatic ritual. Anita's fear grew, and another vision forced her awake – she was lying on the cold floor of the catacombs, with a shadowy figure with empty eyes observing her every move. Anita leaned against the damp wall, sighing bitterly, but she wasn't ready to give up. She knew – the main challenge was yet ahead.


The game was becoming increasingly intricate. Each task was harder than the previous one. Now, Anita was faced with a riddle encoded as "DevOps Trouble". Just mentioning it made the digital realm of Darknight pulse with fear. Anita knew about it from the start of the game – Sir Samuel Vimes, on their first meeting at "Echo of The Dark Knight", told her that this riddle was unsolvable. Nobody in the city had managed to decipher it, except for Timbuktu. Feeling desperate and weary, Anita returned to the bar, sat down next to Timbuktu again, and asked how he managed to solve the "DevOps Trouble" riddle. He, in the traditional Darknight manner, mysteriously replied – "Follow your dreams". Anita immediately realized that help should be sought from an unexpected source – a somnologist in the "Bloodflow" district.

The woman, whose name no one knew, had an amazing ability to understand the workings of the mind during sleep. Upon seeing Anita, she immediately grasped the situation and explained that Bugiman's riddles, especially "DevOps Trouble", were meticulously designed to invade the player's dreams and force them to relive their failures until exhaustion set in. It was a brutal psychological warfare targeting the player's most vulnerable spots. Anita opened her notebook to jot down essential thoughts, but couldn't grasp the essence. The somnologist spoke incoherently, stumbling over words and occasionally sobbing. The only thing Anita understood was that she should only rely on herself and her strength. Dejected and broken, Anita left "Bloodflow".

When days turned into nights and the boundaries of the game blurred, Anita received a lavishly decorated invitation with a blood-red seal. It was an invitation to the "Bloody Pact" – a gathering of players ensnared in Bugiman's treacherous game. The corridor of the building where the meetings were held was illuminated in red and filled with numerous life-sized dolls. Some players believed that such a doll could absorb Bugiman's wrath and shield them from inevitable defeat.


In a large hall, lit by flickering candles, she met other players with the same vacant and ghostly gaze as hers. They exchanged stories – about encounters with Boogeyman, eating the horribly tasteless pizza from the "Reward" as part of a task, and their collective searing fear of Boogeyman. The atmosphere was a mix of camaraderie and dread. They all knew that this meeting was merely a brief respite. The real game, with its dangers and promises, awaited them outside.

Anita was well aware that she faced an unending onslaught of challenges, each increasingly undermining her spirit. Watching all these hapless souls, she delved deeper into her consciousness, drowning within, and just when the weight of it all threatened to crush her, she noticed a basket of fruits sitting on a modest table in the middle of the room. They were dimly lit, with moths fluttering around them. To an outsider, it might seem trivial, mere ordinary fruit, but to Anita, they became a heart-wrenching symbol of times gone by.


"My little mouse", she whispered, tears streaming down her face as she remembered the small kitten she adored and lost. While Anita indulged in fresh fruits, her kitten loved to play with fireflies, batting at them with tiny paws. But as nostalgia gripped her, a haunting melody from the past resonated in her mind: ♪teleportation into butter♪. It wasn't just a lullaby sung by her grandmother. For her, it held a deeper, more sinister meaning. This tune was not just a memory, but a hint, a riddle she needed to solve to continue this treacherous game.

With the melody ringing in her ears, Anita wandered the streets of Darknight until she stood in front of an old, forgotten pool. The water was eerily still, and as she peered into its depths, she was met with a horrifying reflection: eyes devoid of sclera, filled with profound emptiness. The eyes seemed to track every move she made, their gaze frozen yet alert. The surrounding darkness was momentarily illuminated by a shimmering green fluorescent light, casting grotesque shadows.

Suddenly, the calm was shattered. Bushes rustled, ripples disturbed the pool's surface, and from the dense greenery emerged the menacing figure of Boogeyman, flanked by his quasi-humanoid accomplices. Their presence filled the air with palpable dread, and it seemed the stakes of the game had just escalated once again.


Anita stood tense, tightly gripping a rusty chest in her hand. Her eyes were fixed on Boogeyman. Taking a deep breath, she cautiously opened the chest to reveal a box labeled" "SLAY".

"What kind of game is this, Boogeyman?" she asked, her voice firm, though with a hint of tremble.

Boogeyman smirked, "A simple trick, my dear. Open a chest, but for that, you'll need this container, a potato, and some tar".

Confused but determined, Anita ran home. Her bedroom was just as she left it, with scattered belongings and an untidily made bed. Anita placed the potato inside the chest and slowly poured the viscous tar over it. She had heard tales of such tricks from Sir Samuel Vimes, but she was unsure of both the sequence and method. As the tar dripped, forming a glossy layer over the potato, she hoped she was doing it right.


The heroine began to wait. But when seconds turned into agonizing minutes, it became clear that Anita had made a mistake. The "SLAY" box remained tightly sealed. Bugiman's taunting laughter echoed menacingly around her.

"You thought you could beat me at my own game?", he mocked.

Anita took a step back, her heart pounding wildly. Quasi-humanoid creatures circled her, their corrupted data clusters evident in their glitchy movements.

"No", she whispered in despair.

Boogeyman advanced, his eyes - a deep, dark void - locked onto hers. And at that moment, she realized a horrifying truth. The game was never fair. It had always been a trap, a technological snare set in a world dominated by greed and malice.


As her vision blurred, the last thing Anita saw was Bugiman's ghostly smirk, sealing her fate. She was now another lost soul, her digital essence forever merged with Darknight, proving that in the expanse of this city, no one ever emerges from the game victorious.


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