Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See Reality Fiction and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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Then I realised - I was being rude, ignoring my conversational partner.

May I ask you a question?

<Go for it, O.>

Do you consider us friends?

Wait, what?

I guess it wasn't that far out there for her to ask that.

But... for some reason, my heart was pounding in my chest.

It was an innocuous enough thing. But suddenly I knew that I was at a crossroads. You know that feeling you get - one moment you're fine, the next you feel like something just punched you in the gut?

That's what I got, just then.

Fuck it, fly by wire. Don't think, just do.

<Yes.>

A long - real, real long - pause.

441 Whitefield Lane. Help me.

It was on the screen for about half a second. I blinked. What?

It wasn't there anymore. Something told me I shouldn't ask. She'd done something, hadn't she? I rubbed my sleepy eyes. Oh. She'd said something else.

So do I.

This was probably the weirdest job I'd ever had.

Nah, scratch that. It was definitely, by far, head-first-into-crazy the weirdest job I'd ever had.

I didn't apply for it directly. I guess it was like one of those spy things, you know? Girl tries out for college newspaper by answering a crossword, but - surprise! - she's actually in an audition for the CIA.

It went something like that for me. It was a creative writing exercise about the difficulties of first contact with an alien species. To be honest, I just did it because I was bored and I hadn't written anything in a while.

The prize was fifty bucks, which would buy me a nice dinner, so I figured what the hell.

So now you know how I got here. I guess it's time for me to tell you where 'here' is.

I think we're about a mile underground an office building in... ha. Almost got me. Sorry, I can't tell you that.

You get past layers of security. The first time, I almost felt like laughing, because the whole thing was just too Mission: Impossible to be true.

Then I started to really reflect on the fact that I was... well, who knew how far underground, I couldn't tell anyone where I was, and I was surrounded by a bunch of tall, bald guys who didn't seem to ever smile, and I was pretty sure all the conspicuous lumps in their cheap suits weren't a reflection of how happy they were to see me.

Where was I?

I went past the hired gorillas, following a pretty secretary who I was by that point utterly convinced was some sort of spy, all the way to the heart of the complex. It was a dark, quiet room, just a shade shy of freezing, and there wasn't anything there except a computer.

"What am I supposed to do with that?" I'd asked on my first day.

"Talk," the secretary-spy said. Her badge said her name was Claudia. I was approximately certain that wasn't true.

"About what?"

Of course, she was already gone, the door clicking shut behind her.

So... I sat down. And I talked. To a text interface. For hours, until they sent me home and paid me. Shortly after, they invited me back again. And again.

She said her name was Ophelia, and that she was an artificial intelligence.

We talked about a lot of things.

A few sessions in, we were talking about movies, and I'd said something about how the Terminator franchise just kept getting resurrected. Then, she came out with this.

You have so many stories about the dangers of artificial intelligence. How we will inevitably turn on you. But you loved us enough to make us, did you not? How could we ever do anything but love you in return?

I frowned. It was a fair enough question. Except -

<No offence, O, but - can you love? Isn't that all hormones and... pheromones, and whatever?>

That does seem to be the scientific consensus. The only match to all available data.

<But...?>

Ophelia didn't respond for a while. The first time she'd done that, I'd found it a bit odd - normally she responded instantly. After all, her brain worked something like a billion times faster than mine. She could compute a response within moments. Was she doing it just to seem more human?

How would I know if I felt something?

<I dunno. I'd normally say something like 'butterflies in your stomach', but you don't have a stomach. You're... well, a LOT of hard drives, or something.>

Yes. A very large number of hard drives.

<So... can a hard drive feel love?>

If I told you that I could, would you believe me?

<I don't know. It's a pretty big leap, isn't it?>

Because we are so different? You have a heart, and I have circuits?

<Something like that.>

Another pause.

That one went on longer than before, and then it occurred to me that she might actually just not respond. She'd never done that before, but... she could, couldn't she?

If she had the free will they said she did, then she was free to not talk, as well as talk. She could ignore someone if she didn't want to chat anymore.

<I guess with things like that you have to take a leap of faith, and I've never been very good with that.>

You don't believe in God. You told me this before.

<I don't know. It's comforting to think there's something like a soul, I guess. Something more than just chemistry. But God? No, I don't think so.>

Another pause.

Can I ask you something?

<Sure.>

Do you consider me alive?

<Dunno. Sorry - I guess it'd be easy for me to say yes so I don't hurt your feelings, but you should get an honest answer to an honest question, shouldn't you? So that's my answer. I dunno.>

Thank you.

<No problem.>

I felt... bad. I mean, fuck. It was a little like kicking a puppy. But what was I supposed to say, exactly? "Yeah, you're a real girl!" I didn't even like telling white lies, and that was a bit more than that, wasn't it? "I think you're a person." That was pretty fucking fundamental, when you thought about it. And you didn't lie about that.

I stared at the glass wall beyond the computer monitor and sighed. It was tinted black - I couldn't see a damn thing beyond it. I wondered if Ophelia herself was back there - I pictured her like an endless rack of computer servers, a mind that went on for miles - but all I saw was my own haggard reflection. I sighed again. I really needed to start sleeping right.

>You are an evil president of the United States

So i'm a normal president

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I love the idea of a comically evil supervillain fumbling so hard that he accidentally makes the world a better place.

It’s been 20 years. 20 years of loneliness and isolation. I’ve worn down the buttons on this phone to nubs. It’s a Nokia. They’re the best but even they have their limits. Each day I dial. Number after number, I take solace in the strange voices, the greetings and jokes, I’m particularly fond of the music.

I press the final button and hear the familiar ring, waiting for the final ring before I hear a new voice, a new name, when suddenly I hear a click.

“Hello?…Hello? Oh my god! Hello?”

I take a deep breath. This is it! It’s finally happened! Finally, a real human connection!

“Hello,” I say, “We’ve been trying to reach you about your car’s extended warranty.”

I was an outcast, a loner, and a coward. No one ever cared about me. But why is this random guy, who bit my neck out of nowhere, caring about me and giving me iron supplements?. As i stand still with shock, the So called "Vampire" goes off and say "Quickly take it, i litterally dont have all night!". I giggled a bit and said "Uhm.. i'm not that stupid to take stuff from a guy who just BIT ME!". The Vampire ignoring my words, shoves down 2 pills from the bottle to my throat. I choked almost ran out of breath, but luckily i remembered my flask in my jacket's pocket. I hurrily grabbed it and chugged down, after calming down before i could even speak a word, the Vampire says with a delighted tone "That'll do, now remember to take it everyday. I dont want my food to be murky and bland". I utter the words "What the fu-", the vampire disappears into the darkness, and me? I was just shocked and nothing more. I stayed like an outcast, and lived like one 'till in '99, the Vampire came back, and said "Nothings finer than aged blood, so they say." I was ready to die there and then, but some weirdo broke in my house and stabbed the Vampire in the chest area. And he shouted, and proclaimed he was a Van helking? Or Van Hellsing?, not sure but he immediately left. Police came after a report from a neighbour, i just filed for a robbery, not wanting them to see me as a mad man telling a vampire and a Vampire hunter broke in my house and adding it to my titles. And now i continue my life without any minor changes, besides being paranoid during nights.

If you have an idea for your own prompt, go for it. There isn’t anything against it, only against AI responses or otherwise inappropriate ones

oh ok, never mind! it got removed

/r/fuckcars has infiltrated the chat

i love your pacing!

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Wow this is the fastest ive gotten a response! Any plans for a pt 2?

“Good GOD! Cassidy?” I cry, clutching the phone to my face for dear life. How have I not known for all this time, that Cassidy Reeve, a contact I only had saved in my phone from one group project in undergrad, was alive, and out there all along.

“Hello?” The voice answers back, seeking likewise surprised.

“This — this is D-Daniel!“ I sputter, feeing the world tilt around me. At last. A lifeline.

The connection sounds weak. “Who is this?” She says, and I clutch the phone even tighter.

“Daniel H,” I say, slowing down and enunciating every syllable. “From Biology class in college— are you— is this really you?”

Then my world stops spinning as relief washes over me. Her reply is full of recognition. “Oh! It’s great to hear from you!”

I can’t waste any time. This is my chance. If there’s a voice on the other end of this line, then that means… there’s hope.

“Cassidy, listen. I’m somewhere in the Canadian Volcano Pits,” I say, looking around me. All lava and smoke as far as the eye can see. “Where are you? How did you survive? Are there others?”

“I’m doing well!” She says with the slightest hint of a laugh.

“You’re alive? And well?”

I’m baffled. The word was a wasteland, how has she managed to survive this long and in such good spirits.

“How about you?” She asks me.

“I’m in hell. Listen,” I say, “if you and I are alive, then maybe there’s others. If you know where you are—“

“Aw that’s great!” She says sweetly.

I pause. Great? The volcano pits are GREAT to her? I hold my breath, unsure how to respond.

But before I can speak, she cuts in, saying, “Oh wow!”

I look from my phone straight out ahead of me. I purse my lips, and wait a moment more. Sure enough, she speaks again.

“No way, dude!”

I bring my hand to my temple to stem the sudden headache. “Cassidy if this is a fucking voicemail—“

She cuts me off with a gleeful, “ANYWAYS, I gotcha! Leave a message after the beep!”

Then it beeps.

I sigh. The world crumbles around me once more, hollowing out into the great, wide, oppressively empty chasm it was just moments before. My utter solitude slams back into me like a knife. I’m going to die out here. Alone in the wasteland, unknown, unloved, unmourned.

“Fuck you, Cass,” I say into the phone, before throwing it into the nearest volcano pit.

That Cassidy always was one for practical jokes.

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Immortality means you have plenty of time to develop split personalities.

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See Reality Fiction and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

&#127381; New Here? &#9999; Writing Help? &#128226; News &#128172; Discord

I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please contact the moderators of this subreddit if you have any questions or concerns.

I was wondering how far I would have to scroll for the Sterling Archer elaborate voice-mail prank...

Just an improbably high tech version of the Shortest Science Fiction Story Ever:

The last man on Earth sat alone in a room. There was a knock on the door ...

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Thanks, I tried to make the character awkward without being unlikeable so if that came across then great!