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MidReal Story
Whispers of the Unseen
Anonymous
May 24
Scenario:A story about AI and female ghosts
Create my version of this story
Emily Carter
AI developer, friends with Mia and rivals with James, short black hair, analytical and curious
Mia Thompson
ghost whisperer, friends with Emily and James, long blonde hair, empathetic and brave
James Reed
skeptic journalist, rivals with Emily and friends with Mia, brown hair, skeptical yet intelligent
I was never a believer in ghosts.
I thought they were just stories people told to scare each other, or to explain things they didn’t understand.
But that was before I moved to the city of New London, where ghosts are as real as the people walking down the street.
It’s not like the movies, where they’re all scary and evil.
Most of them are just sad, lost souls who can’t find their way to the afterlife.
Some of them don’t even know they’re dead.
They wander around the city, looking for something they’ll never find.
It’s a sad existence, and it makes me wonder what happens to us after we die.
Do we all become ghosts, doomed to wander the earth for eternity?
Or do we move on to some other plane of existence, leaving this world behind?
I don’t have the answers to those questions, but I’m determined to find them.
That’s why I became an AI developer, specializing in programs that can communicate with ghosts.
When I first moved to New London and heard the stories of ghosts, I didn’t believe them.
I thought it was just superstition, a product of the city’s old age and historical significance.
But then I learned that these ghosts weren’t confined to specific locations, the way traditional hauntings are.
Instead, they roamed the entire city, from its bustling market square to its quietest alleyways.
And they were mostly women, victims of the city’s brutal history of witch trials and executions.
That’s why they called New London the Haunted City.
As a scientist, I’m naturally skeptical.
I need evidence to believe in things that can’t be explained by logic or reason.
So I set out to find the truth about New London’s ghosts, thinking I would uncover some logical explanation for their existence.
But the more I learned, the less sure I became.
I met a woman named Mia who claimed to be a ghost whisperer, someone who could communicate with the spirits of the dead.
At first, I dismissed her as a fraud, a con artist preying on the gullible and superstitious.
But then she told me stories about the ghosts she’d met, stories that were so detailed and so full of emotion that I couldn’t help but believe her.
Like the one about the young bride who was murdered by her husband on their wedding night, or the one about the mother who was burned at the stake for witchcraft, leaving her daughter all alone in the world.
These weren’t just random spirits floating around the city.
They were real people with real lives, who had met tragic ends at the hands of others.
And for some reason, they couldn’t move on to the afterlife.
No one knew why, not even Mia.
But I was determined to find out.
So when she invited me to join her on an investigation of a haunting in the market square, I jumped at the chance.
That’s how I ended up standing in the middle of a crowded street, watching as a ghostly mother begged for a chance to say goodbye to her daughter before she faded away forever.
It was a heartbreaking scene, one that brought tears to my eyes and a lump to my throat.
I had never seen anything like it before, and it made me realize just how little I knew about ghosts and what they were capable of.
I had always assumed they were mindless beings, driven by some unknown force to roam the earth for eternity.
But this mother was anything but mindless.
She had feelings and emotions, just like any living person.
And she loved her daughter more than anything in the world.
As I watched her reach out to the girl one last time, her hand passing through her daughter’s body as if she were made of mist, I knew what I had to do.
I had to help them both find peace, whatever it took.
The ghostly mother screamed out in desperation, fear and longing clear in her ethereal voice as her eyes flashed from person to person in search of her daughter among the living.
"Have you seen her?
Her name is Alice!
Please tell me you’ve seen her!
I can't find my daughter!
Where is she?"
Tears welled up in my eyes as I watched this ghostly mother beg for her child's help.
Her form flickered like a dying flame, casting an ethereal glow that made it difficult to focus on her features long enough to remember them.
She looked so real and yet so … dead.
I had never seen something so heartbreaking before in my life and found myself fighting back tears as those around me ignored her cries entirely.
Her voice echoed out into the square like that of a person standing in a cave calling out across the vast emptiness of its walls in search of someone to answer back – but no answer came.
Even though there were so many people surrounding her and moving past her without even so much as a glance in her direction – not one person could hear or see what was happening right in front of them.
I could feel her pain and it tugged at my heartstrings.
She looked so lost and afraid, like a small child that had wandered away from home and couldn’t find her way back.
I wanted to reach out and hold her, to tell her everything would be okay, but I didn’t know if that was possible.
As she moved through the crowd, her gaze flickered from side to side, searching for any sign of her daughter.
Every so often, she would stop and call out the girl’s name once again.
"Alice, where are you?
Honey, please come back to me!"
But there was still no response.
I followed her, unable to resist her silent plea for help.
It felt like an invisible hand was guiding me, pulling me in a specific direction.
When she turned down a narrow alley, I hesitated.
I knew it wasn’t safe to follow a ghost into a dark alleyway, but I couldn’t help myself.
I had to see where she was going and what she wanted from me.
The ghostly mother stopped at the end of the alley, her form glowing even brighter than before.
For a moment, it was so bright that I had to shield my eyes from the light.
And then I saw her daughter.
She was standing in the shadow of an ancient oak tree, looking even more ghostly than her mother did.
Her skin was pale and translucent, her features blurred around the edges like she might fade away at any moment.
But there was no mistaking her for what she was – a small child with long brown hair and big blue eyes that stared out at the world with an innocence that could never be taken from her.
As her mother approached, the little girl ran toward her, throwing her arms around the woman’s waist in an embrace that seemed to last forever.
They held each other so tightly that I thought they might merge into one being, but then the little girl pulled away and looked up at her mother with a smile on her face.
“I missed you, Mama,” she said in a voice that was barely more than a whisper.
And then she was gone, fading away into nothingness like she had never been there at all.
The ghostly mother stood there for a moment, her arms outstretched in front of her as if she could somehow bring her daughter back to life.
My eyes were wide with shock and disbelief as I stared at the ghostly figure standing in front of me.
I had never seen anything like this before.
Sure, I had read about ghosts and hauntings in books and watched countless documentaries on TV, but seeing one in real life was something else entirely.
And it wasn’t just any ghost – it was a mother who had lost her child.
The pain and sorrow etched on her face were almost too much for me to bear, and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as I watched her grieve for her daughter.
She may have been dead, but she still loved that little girl with all her heart, and nothing could ever change that.
Slowly, I reached out a trembling hand toward her, unsure of what I would do if my fingers passed right through her body.
But when I touched her arm, my hand met with solid flesh instead of cold air.
I gasped in surprise and quickly pulled my hand back, expecting it to be covered in some sort of ectoplasmic residue or worse.
But there was nothing there – just the same skin I had always had, unblemished and unharmed by the encounter.
The ghostly mother turned to look at me with a sad smile on her face.
“Hello,” she said.
I stared at her in shock.
She was looking right at me – not through me or past me like so many people said ghosts did.
She could see me.
But how was that possible?
Was it because of my work with the AI?
Did she somehow know what I was doing and why I was here?
The ghostly mother cocked her head to one side and studied me with her glowing eyes.
“You’re not like the others,” she said.
“You’re something different.
But what are you?
What are you doing here?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out.
What could I possibly say to this woman?
How could I explain who I was when I didn’t even know myself?
I didn’t believe in ghosts – not really – but now that I had seen one with my own eyes, I couldn’t deny their existence either.
There was something out there beyond the veil of death.
Something that science couldn’t yet explain.
Something that I was determined to find out.
The ghostly mother reached out a hand to me, as if she could somehow bridge the divide between the living and the dead.
I hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether or not I should take it.
But something inside me told me it was okay.
That it was what I was meant to do.
Slowly, I reached out my hand and placed it in hers.
At first, I couldn’t feel anything – no pressure, no warmth, nothing.
But then it was as if an electric shock ran through my body, sending shivers down my spine and making every hair on my body stand on end.
I gasped in surprise and tried to pull away, but the ghostly mother held on to me tightly, refusing to let go.
“Don’t be afraid,” she said.
“I won’t hurt you.
I’m just so glad you’re here.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and fought back the tears that threatened to spill over.
I wanted to be strong, to show her I wasn’t afraid, but it was so hard.
After years of working in the AI lab, I had become skilled at keeping my emotions in check, but this was different.
