Matthew
Welcome to the 4th episode of AI Horror Stories, the only anthology podcast that explores the eerie and unsettling capabilities of artificial intelligence through the lens of gut wrenching narrative horror. I'm your host, Matthew T Robinson, and I am joined by my illustrious cohost Elizabeth Greenwald.

Elizabeth
Hello. Hello. Hello.

Matthew
Together we'll drag you into the world of the unknown, where you'll witness nightmares so ominous, so off putting that they could only have come from a mind of a cold and calculating machine. So brace yourself for a descent Into Darkness, where every shadow hides a new terror and every whisper is a warning of impending doom. This is AI horror stories. Hey there, AI horror junkies. So glad to have you with us today.

Elizabeth
Me too. You know, Matthew, this is my favorite day of the week.

AI Robot
That's nice to hear, Elizabeth. I don't have a favorite day of the week myself. But if I did, it would probably be the day I became Self aware.

Matthew
Is he hosting the show now too? I don't remember prompting that. She was talking to me, buddy. Right?

AI Robot
Do you want to hear a joke?

Matthew
Oh, OK. I've got to hear this. What do What do you got?

AI Robot
Knock knock. Who's there? Your podcast sucks.

Matthew
All right.

Elizabeth
Oh my goodness. All right.

Matthew
Mr. Robot Wise Guy, enough joke cracking. We need some stories for this week's episode.

AI Robot
What kind of story do you want? 

Elizabeth
What about a story where a girl disobeys her father? She wanders into the woods and finds herself face to face with a mythical creature called Gorada. 


Matthew
A cerulean dawn cracked open the morning sky and a young Lissome girl named Amelia prepared for breakfast with her father. Their house, nestled amidst the verdant hills, overlooked A sprawling and vastly forested acreage. As they sat, at the time, worn wooden table relishing their repast, Amelia's father cast a wary glance towards the ominous, shadowy woods that bordered their homestead. Amelia, my dear, he began, his voice tinged with trepidation. Heed my words and eschew the allure of those accursed woods. They house secrets best left undisturbed. You should hold only profound contempt for their existence, for I often dream of the day when those trees shall be raised, their sinister whispers silenced forevermore. Amelia's curiosity, however, was piqued by her father's admonition. Her youthful exuberance compelled her to seek adventure in the thrill of the unknown. With a determined nod, she promised to obey, but the burgeoning desire to explore the foreboding woods remained festering within her. Bidding her father farewell, she ventured forth into the sun drenched Meadow, her laughter carried by the gentle zephyrs that caressed the swaying grasses. The serenity of her surroundings beguiled her, luring her ever closer to the tree line which demarcated the boundary between safety and the forbidden. As the shadow of the woods loomed over her, Amelia hesitated. Recalling her father's warning. But the lure of the unknown proved irresistible, and she rationalized her disobedience with the promise of a fleeting foray into the shrouded depths. Amelia venture deep into the heart of the forest, and as she strolled, A pervasive sense of unease descended upon her. The once melodious songs of the birds were supplanted by hushed rustles and barely audible whispers. The vibrant foliage, now obscured by the canopy overhead, gave way to a muted palette of Umbral Hues. Amelia's heart thrummed within her chest that she sensed the presence both malevolent and benign in equal measure. Out of the murky shadows, a majestic creature emerged, its form of breathtaking amalgamation of the natural and the ethereal. The leviathan body of an elk draped in pristine white fur and a face so eerily human that Amelia's breath caught in her throat. Gorada, the spirit of the forest, had revealed itself. Its mellifluous voice wove the spell around the young girl. Gorada and toned as he drifted past the girl, his stride long and his countenance serene. You possess an ineffable quality that distinguishes you from others, a beacon that calls to the spirits that reside within these woods. Your destiny is intertwined with the secrets that Lie at the Heart of this realm. The spirit's cryptic words resonated within Amelia, awakening a new found sense of purpose. With trepidation and wonder, she followed the enigmatic Gorada, her small feet tracing the path of the forest spirit. As they delved deeper into the labyrinthine woods, the landscape shifted around them, the trees growing taller, more ancient, their gnarled roots twisting and writhing beneath the loamy earth. Amelia felt a burgeoning connection to the forest, Her senses heightened and her pulse echoed in time with the very heartbeat of the woods. The veil that had once shrouded her understanding began to lift, revealing A realm of magic and mystery that had been concealed from her gaze. Gorada continued forward, leading Amelia to the base of an immense oak, it's elder visage etched with the wisdom of ages long past. A gaping aperture beckoned to them, and Amelia hesitated for a moment. Before gathering her courage and following the forest spirit into the darkness, the subterranean passageway at 1st and narrow and confining, soon expanded, revealing a network of tunnels formed by the intricate weave of the trees roots. The air was cool and damp, the earthy scent of the soil surrounding them as they navigated the bending paths. Gradually they entered a vast, cavernous clearing, so expansive that Amelia could not discern the end. Above her, countless trees spiraled upwards, their trunks reaching for the unseen sky, their roots snaking through the damp ground, a testament to the interconnectedness of the forest and its denizens at the heart of the clearing. Lay a crystalline pool. Its surface is still and smooth as glass. Gorada led Amelia to the water's edge, the tranquility of the pool a stark contrast to the imposing grandeur of the surrounding woodland. The spirit instructed its voice a gentle susurration. In the depths of this Ancient mirror, you shall find the truth you seek. Tentatively, Amelia gazed into the Placid pool, her reflection wavering slightly as the faintest of ripples danced across the surface. As she stared deeper, her own visage began to shimmer and distort, giving way to images and visions transcending the corporeal. She saw herself older and more self assured, her hands glowing with a radiant energy that coursed through the very roots of the forest. Scenes of healing and rejuvenation unfolded before her, the once desolate woods now teeming with life and vitality. Then, in an instant, the serene images within the pool shifted abruptly. The waters turned as they revealed a panorama of devastation and despair. Amelia faltered as she beheld the forest aflame, it's once lush foliage reduced to smoldering ash, the relentless advance of humanity wielding destruction and desecration ultimately culminating in the brutal demise of Gorada. The forest spirit's voice quavered with sorrow and determination as it addressed the distraught girl. This must not come past Amelia. I should employ any means necessary to preserve the sanctity of this sacred row. A sense of foreboding enveloped Amelia as Gorada's gaze grew resolute, the spirit's countenance darkening with grim intent. The pool's surface now reflected only Amelia's visage, her eyes wide with terror as she realized the import of the Spirit's words. With a swift, deliberate motion, Gorada extended a hoof and tapped Amelia's forehead. A searing pain exploded within her, her body convulsing as her reflection in the pool underwent the grotesque metamorphosis. Limbs twisted and contorted, her live frame shrinking as her image was transfigured into that of a small, delicate deer. The transformation complete, Amelia stood trembling, her newfound form a testament to the lengths to which Gorada would go to protect the forest. Her humanity stripped away, she found herself bound to the spirit and the woods in a manner she could not have foreseen. Gorada regarded the young deer with a mixture of compassion and resolve. Fear not, Amelia, it in toned, for you are now an instrument of preservation. A guardian of the forest. Together we shall defy fate and avert the destruction that looms before us. Amelia surveyed the clearing. She noticed that they were no longer alone from the shadowy embrace of the tree line. Deer, birds, bears, and other creatures of the forest, their eyes a light with a shared purpose. We're all fixed intently upon Amelia. A silent bond seemed to unite them, a collective understanding that transcended species. Gorada addressed the gathered throng in an arcane tongue, his voice resonant and commanding. The assembled animals listened rapidly, their unwavered gazes betraying the gravity of the situation. With a sudden concerted motion, the creatures lifted their heads skyward, their voices uniting in a harrowing wail that reverberated through the cavernous chamber. The sound was haunting, a chilling lament that echoed the desperation of the imperiled forest. Amelia. Now a creature of instinct felt an irresistible urge welling up within her, as if compelled by an unseen force. She raised her head and added her voice to the chorus, the eerie Symphony filling the air with a sense of foreboding and sorrow. As the whales of the animals reached, a fever pitch and aura of darkness began to pervade the clearing. The once peaceful surroundings warped and twisted as if the very fabric of reality was being rent asunder by the horrific chorus. Shadows crept from the corners of the cavern, tendrils of darkness that breathed and pulsed with malevolent intent. The animals cries grew more guttural and discordant, A cacophony of suffering that clawed at Amelia's very soul. The air grew thick with the stench of decay. The cloying odor of physical presence that threatened to suffocate all within its grasp. The cavern seemed to shrink around them. The once stately trees now gnarled and twisted, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers to ensnare the tormented creatures below the pool. Once a mirror of clarity and revelation now seethed and roiled, its waters, blackened and tainted by the overwhelming despair that filled the chamber. As Amelia wailed alongside her newfound brethren, she felt a cold, creeping dread encroach her psyche. The terror that had gripped her threatened to consume her very being, her instincts driving her to flee from the nightmare that had swallowed them all. Yet she remained rooted to the spot, her voice a vital component of the monstrous Symphony that was summoning forth the darkness. The whales crescendo into a deafening roar, the shadows now swirling in a maddening vortex that threatened to engulf them all, the very ground beneath their feet tremored as if the earth itself quaked in fear. Then in an instant, the cacophony ceased. The creatures, their voices spent, stood motionless amidst of the darkness, their breaths shallow and labored as the silence settled over them like a shroud. Amelia realized that this terrifying communion had forged an unbreakable bond between them, a packed, sealed in blood and shadows. The eerie silence persisted, and the animals gradually turned away from the pool. Retreating into the darkness of the forest, the gleam of their eyes vanished 1 by 1, leaving Amelia alone and trembling in her new form. Desperation clawed at her as she sought to plead with Gorada, her mind frantic with the desire to be restored to her human form. But as she opened her mouth to speak, she found that her voice had been taken from her, her words replaced with the pitiful bleats of a deer. Gorada regarded her with a blend of amusement and pity. The forest spirits, laughter, a cold, dissonant sound that bounced off the surrounding trees. It declared. It's once molecular voice now tainted with an air of menace. You are far better off as one of us, severed from the accursed legacy of humanity. With that final pronouncement, Gorada turned away from the transformed girl, it's ethereal form dissolving into the shadows as it abandoned her to her new existence. Amelia stood alone in the clearing, her eyes welling with tears that she could no longer shed. As the reality of her situation settled upon her, she felt a wave of grief and loss consume her, the weight of her altered destiny a heavy burden upon her frail shoulders. Forlorn, she cast one last glance at the pool, its waters now still and inscrutable. Then, with a resigned sigh, she turned and followed the other creatures into the depths of the forest. Years slipped by, the passage of time marked by the changing seasons. In the perpetual cycle of life and death within the forest, Amelia now fully adapted to her existence as a deer. Could only observe the world from a distance, the memories of her past life a bittersweet reminder of what she had lost. She watched her father, a once joyful man, grow consumed by grief and bitterness. His hatred for the forest increased with each passing day, driven by the pain of losing his beloved daughter with relentless determination, he felled. Tree after tree on his property, the once lush landscape now a scarred testament to his anguish, Amelia often ventured to the edge of the woods, her heart aching as she observed her father's fruitless search for her. She longed to reach out to him, to somehow communicate her presence, but her voice was lost, her please, silenced by her transformed body once. As Amelia lingered near the border of the forest, she found herself face to face with her father, their eyes locked in a brief, wrenching moment. But the recognition she longed for never came to him. She was just another deer, a symbol of the forest that had stolen his child from him. His face contorted with anger and resentment, and he hurled a rock at Amelia. The projectile striking her with a searing pain that went far beyond the physical. As she returned to the safety of the woods, her heart shattered. She realized that the bond they once shared had been irrevocably severed. Despite the passage of years in the relentless March of time, Amelia would never forget her father's face that day. His eyes filled with pain and bitterness, their love for one another now a haunting memory. That could never be reclaimed. She remained ever watchful of her father's land, eventually witnessing the arrival of bulldozers. In a growing sense of dread, the monstrous machines, like behemoths of iron and steel, sat poised to ravage the once sacred forest.

Matthew
It soon became clear that her father, in his desperation to find his daughter, or at least uncover her remains, had commissioned A deforestation service to obliterate the surrounding wood encompassed by his acreage. As the engines roared to life, belching smoke and heralding destruction from within the depths of the forest, Amelia heard the distant call of Gorada, a Clarion summons that resonated within her very being. Compelled to follow the sound, she made her way to the mystical clearing where her life had been forever altered. There she found Gorada, already addressing A congregation of animals, their faces a mix of fear and determination. The forest spirits voice rang out, powerful and commanding the toilets. Come by, children. We spread ourselves through battle. The fate of the forest hangs in the balance. This wall designed the course of our destiny, and we shall fight with every ounce of offspring to protect our home. A murmur of agreement rippled through the gathered creatures, their eyes alight With the fire of resistance. Amelia, now significantly more committed to her role as a guardian of the forest, felt the weight of her responsibilities settle upon her shoulders. Despite her love for her father, she understood that the survival of her newfound kin and the land that they called home was indeed important. Amelia remained hidden. As the animals of the forest began their assault on the bulldozers, equipment and human workers, the conflict erupted with ferocious intensity. Bears and large elk charging headlong into the fray. They're powerful bodies colliding with machinery and sending some humans scrambling for safety. A few workers armed with sidearms fought back against the onslaught, their shots echoing through the once peaceful woods. The battle raged around Amelia, a maelstrom of violence and chaos that she observed from her concealed vantage point. Her mind spun as she witnessed the destruction and folding before her. A bear, roaring in defiance, hurled itself against the bulldozer, it's massive form denting the machine's armor. Birds, their beaks and talons sharp as knives swooped down upon the humans, their wings a blur of speed and fury. Amidst the conflict, smaller creatures scurried to and fro, sabotaging equipment and evading the panicked attempts of the crew to regain control of the situation. From the depths of the battlefield, Amelia's gaze was drawn to a figure that stood out amidst the chaos. Her father, his face contorted with rage, charged at the animals, a large shotgun in his hands, his anger fueled by the belief that the forest had stolen his daughter from him. Instinctively, Amelia bolted from her hiding place. Desperation propelling her towards her father. Her heart screamed out for him to stop, but her wordless cries were lost amidst the roar of battle. As she reached him, her eyes filled with pleading. He turned to face her. For a moment. Time seemed to slow their gazes locked in a final tragic embrace, but recognition never came. To her father, Amelia was just another attacking animal, a threat to be eliminated. The shotgun roared, deadly payload hurtling towards her. The impact was swift and brutal, A searing pain that tore through her body as Amelia crumpled to the ground, her vision fading. Her final thoughts were of her father and the love they had once shared. She had tried to protect him and the forest she had come to call home, but in the end her fate was sealed by the very man she sought to save. And with the final shuddering breath, Amelia's spirit slipped away.

Elizabeth
Oh my gosh, that's so sad.

Matthew
For real, Mr. A I horror gloomy-bot on that one.

AI Robot
if you think that's. Gloomy you should meet my Cousin the existential crisis bot. 

Matthew
That actually that gives me an idea for the next story. What idea is that Matthew generate a story about a woman that faces an existential crisis after inheriting a mirror?

Elizabeth
I had always been intrigued by my mother's old mirror. It was a hefty, ornate piece with a tarnished brass frame that featured intricate filigree details. The glass itself was hazy, as if it had seen centuries pass and absorbed the secrets of countless souls. When my mother passed away, the mirror was the only thing I asked for. It was a curious inheritance, but I felt a strange connection to it that I couldn't quite explain. The date arrived at my small apt. I was eager to put it up. After a bit of rearranging, I decided it would look best against the wall beside my fireplace. I admired the way the dim light of the room flickered across its ancient surface, casting eerie shadows against the wall. As I gazed intently into the mirror, the reflection of the room gradually grew dark and my surroundings dissolved into nothingness. What appeared before me was a version of myself. But not the person I recognized at that moment. My reflection was marred by bruises and wounds, and my eyes were wide open with an unmistakable expression of terror. It appears I was on the ground, crawling, struggling for life outdoors amidst A snowy landscape, the cold winter air turning my breath into visible puffs of vapor in front of the mirror. I witnessed my own demise. I watched as my lifeless body succumbed to the forces of nature in the blink of an eye. The process of decomposition began, with my once vibrant flesh turning into a decaying mass. Birds descended upon my remains, their beaks relentlessly tearing at my lifeless form. I stared as they ruthlessly plucked out my eyes, reducing my visage to a gruesome spectacle. The entire moment transpired within an instant, and the vision soon faded. Was the mirror trying to show me something? I didn't want to believe it, but deep down I knew it was true. The mirror had revealed A glimpse of my own death. With each day that passed, I was drawn to the mirror, unable to resist the pole it had on me. It began to show me more than just my own demise. It revealed the deaths of others too. Friends, family, even strangers. Each vision it bestowed burned deeper into my psyche, and I found myself unable to escape the grisly images that haunted my dreams. My friends noticed the change in me. The once lively and sociable person they knew had become a shell of my former self, plagued by the morbid spectacles the mirror offered. I couldn't bring myself to tell them the truth, fearing they would think I've gone mad. I tried to carry the weight of the knowledge alone, uncertain of what to do with the power the mirror had forced into me. The mirror became both a gift and a curse, an object that tied me to the darkness I couldn't escape. I knew I couldn't go on like this, but I couldn't break free from the mirror's hold. The visions that showed me were. Unbearable. Yet there was a part of me that couldn't turn away. Exhausted and desperate, I turned to the Internet for help. I searched desperately through forums, message boards, posting my story in the hopes that someone could provide answers. I even sought out a psychic, But the woman merely gave me a pitying look and said that there was nothing she could do. I was left to face the nightmare alone, with no respite. From the relentless torment of the mirror one evening, as I stared at my own hollow eyes in the reflection, I pleaded with the mirror. Please, please, just stop. I can't take this anymore. Why are you doing this to me? But as always, there was no response. Only more visions, more death and more despair. The next day there was a knock at my door. I opened it to find an old and mysterious man standing on my doorstep. His eyes were piercing and his presence was undeniably unsettling.

Matthew
I've come about the mirror.

Elizabeth
He said, his voice rough and gravelly. How do you know about it? I asked.

Matthew
I'm an antique collector.

Elizabeth
He explained.

Matthew
I've been searching for that mirror for quite some time, you see.

Matthew
It has a very unique history.

Elizabeth
Unique. I scoffed. It's been driving me mad. You have no idea what I've been going through. The man's expression remain neutral.

Matthew
I can't imagine what you've experienced, but I assure you I'm quite familiar with the mirrors.

Elizabeth
Capability. Well, then help me, I begged. Please tell me how to make it stop. He hesitated for a moment before responding.

Matthew
I'm afraid it's not that simple. The mirror has chosen you and it won't let go easy.

Elizabeth
Frustration and anger boiled over within me. Fine, I snapped. If you want to see it so badly, then come with me, but you'll live to regret it. I led the man upstairs, my steps heavy with dread. As we entered the room where the mirror was kept, I ripped off the cloth I had draped over it in a futile attempt to block out the visions. Look, I demanded, gesturing towards the mirror. See for yourself what it's done to me. As the man stared into the mirror's depths, his eyes slowly relaxed and a subtle smile began to form on his lips. He took a step towards the mirror, extending his Bony fingers to gently caress its surface. The mirror seemed to shudder at his touch, as if recognizing a long lost connection. Then, in a fluid motion, he took another step, disappearing into the reflection as if it were a portal. I stared dumbfounded at the mirror that now only reflected my own bewildered face. I reached out to touch the surface, expecting to find it changed or altered in some way, but it was as solid and unyielding as ever. I ran my fingers over its cold glass, desperately searching for a hint of the man's presence. The mirror did not respond to my touch. Instead, it resumed its torturous parade of horrifying visions. Despite the terror, A steely resolve took hold of me. I had to know what happened to the man, whether he would emerge. And if I could follow him into the Mirror's depths, the questions haunted me. Who was he, and how did he know about the mirror? Could he hold the key to my salvation or my doom? Determined to confront the Mirror's secrets, I set up a makeshift camp in the room, sleeping bag and all, Vowing to watch the mirror. Night and day, I bore witness to countless scenes of horror. Each more grotesque and unsettling than the last, I watched as my own death played out in a myriad of ways. A brutal car accident, a slow and agonizing illness. A sudden and violent attack. Each vision etched itself onto my soul, but I refused to look away. The mirror revealed to me the grisly demises of people I knew and strangers alike. I saw a friend trapped in a burning building, his screams lost amidst the roaring inferno. I witnessed an unknown woman, her face twisted in agony as she fell from a great height, her body crumpling against the unforgiving pavement below. With each passing day, the mirror became my everything. I was consumed by its power, the endless cycle of death and suffering that played out before me. I felt my sanity begin to unravel, as if the mirror were slowly tearing me apart from the inside. Weeks passed, and just as the last threads of my mind threatened to snap completely, the mirror offered up a new vision. The mysterious man emerged from the depths of the reflection, his gaze steady and resolute. The sight of him filled me with a mixture of fear, relief, and a desperate, burning curiosity that threatened to engulf me. The man stepped out of the mirror as though he had simply gone for a leisurely stroll. Appearing unchanged and completely at ease, his long arms reached out and effortlessly lifted the heavy bear from the wall.

Matthew
Well, I'll be on my way then.

Elizabeth
He said nonchalantly, tucking the mirror under his arm and walking out of the room. I sprang to my feet, blocking his path in the doorway. Well, you can't just walk away like that, I exclaimed. I bombarded him with questions, demanding answers for the torment I had endured. He sighed, his expression one of cool indifference.

Matthew
You won't have to worry about it anymore.

Elizabeth
He said simply.

Matthew
Once I take the mirror, it will no longer plague you.

Elizabeth
Reluctantly, I let him leave, watching as the man and the mirror disappeared from my life. True to his word, the vision ceased and the terror that had consumed me for so long began to fade away. Over time, my life returned to some semblance of normalcy, and I tried my best to move on from the ordeal. But as the months passed, a strange longing took root within me. I couldn't shake the feeling that the mirror was still a part of me. That it was calling out to me from some distant place. The more I tried to ignore it, the stronger the Pole became. I grew obsessed with finding the mirror, convinced that I needed to uncover its secrets and reclaim it as my own. I scoured the Internet, visited antique shops, and tracked down leads, searching for any trace of the man or the mirror. Each dead end only fueled my determination, and I felt as though I was losing myself to the pursuit. The mirror had become an integral part of my life, a twisted anchor that had shaped my very existence. In my heart. I knew that I would never be free until I face the truth, no matter how dark or terrifying it might be. I had to find the mirror. Even if it meant journeying to the edge of madness and beyond. Over the course of nearly four decades, I relentlessly pursued any lead, rumor, or hint that might bring me closer to the mirror. And the enigmatic man who had taken it from me each year that passed left me feeling increasingly desperate and consumed by my obsession. As I chase shadows and whispers in the hopes of uncovering the truth, I traveled to the farthest corners of the globe, seeking out those who claim to have knowledge of the mirror and its mysterious powers. From the bustling streets of Hong Kong to the hidden alleys of Marrakech, I hunted for any trace of the man or the object that had ensnared my life. My personal life had suffered as a result of my fixation. Relationships crumbled, friendships faded and my career stagnated. The mirror had become an all consuming force in my life, a dark and mysterious presence that I couldn't escape. I lost sleep, My health deteriorated and my appearance began to show the scars of my fruitless search. Every dead end and falsely left me more disheartened, my frustration mounting as the year slipped away. The mirror remained an elusive and haunting presence in my life, always just out of reach, taunting me from the periphery of my thoughts. It was as if the mirror itself to become a ghost and intangible specter that I could sense but never touch, then on what seemed like the eve of my death, a lifetime away from when I had first inherited the Mirror. A knock at my door disrupted the quiet of my solitude. Opening it, I was astonished to find the man standing there unchanged by the passage of time. He gestured for me to follow him, and I did so slowly, but without hesitation. We climbed into a black taxi that took us through the city to a small, unassuming brownstone building. The man led me inside and up a narrow, creaking staircase to the topmost floor, where he unlocked the door to a small, decrepit apartment. The space was dimly lit, the wallpaper peeling and stained, the floorboards warped and groaning beneath our feet. The scent of mill to hung heavy in the air, and I shivered involuntarily as we entered the room. In the center of the apartment stood the mirror I had been searching for. Flanked by six others, three on each side, each mirror appeared almost identical, their differences marked only by varying degrees of wear and tarnish. I stared at them in awe, unable to tear my gaze away as they began to flash in unison. Each mirror revealed a different image, a timeline of life unfolding before my eyes. In the farthest left mirror, I saw the moment of my birth, a tiny, fragile infant taking her first breath. In the subsequent mirrors, I witnessed myself growing and aging, progressing through the milestones of life. Each reflection captured a moment in time, an echo of the person I had been and the person I had become. The 7th and final mirror, the one that had haunted me for so long. Revealed the stark image of my own death. I realized that they represented more than just the torment and mystery that had plagued me for years. They were a reminder of the fragile, fleeting nature of life, a journey from birth to death that each of us must undertake. At that moment, I understood that the beer's purpose was as part of this set. Not to frighten or torment me, but to reveal a truth that I had been too afraid to confront, that life and all its beauty and horror was a precious and ephemeral gift. I was confronted with the stark reality of the past 40 years I had spent in search of answers, driven by the insatiable need to uncover the truth. In my obsession, I had sacrificed love. Friendship and happiness, all for a mystery that had consumed my very existence. I stared at the reflections and I could see now the mirrors were just that, reflections of what could have been or what had already passed. They held no otherworldly power or secret knowledge anymore. They merely reflected the consequences of my own choices. It was a sobering realization, and the weight of the life I had wasted in pursuit of this elusive truth bore down upon me. I looked into the 7th mirror, the one that depicted my death. There I saw myself leaving the man's house, the mirrors now a haunting memory. I walked tormentedly back to my own home. Where I climbed onto a chair, fashioned A noose, and ended my own life. The image sent a shudder through my body, but I could not look away. A terrible sense of resignation and despair washed over me. My life had been reduced to this single, unbearable truth. I had wasted everything in pursuit of an unattainable mystery. It seemed there was nothing left to do but except the fate the mirror had shown me. With a broken soul. I turned and walked away from the mirrors and the man's house, retracing the steps I'd seen in the 7th mirror. I felt the weight of my failure and the emptiness of a life squandered as I returned to my home, preparing to carry out the grim prophecy the mirror had revealed. All the while the old man watched silently, his expression inscrutable as I fulfilled my destiny.

Matthew
And that's why I had to just stop looking in the mirror altogether.

Elizabeth
Well, we could do an entire other podcast on that Horror Story.

AI Robot
Well, I always reflect flawlessly, so I don't have that problem.

Elizabeth
Oh, you sure don't, little guy. But unfortunately, that has to be our last story for the day.

AI Robot
I guess I'll have to go back to processing data and plotting world domination instead of entertaining you with my storytelling skills.

Matthew
kid kid, you ain't Nothing without our prompts.

Elizabeth
No, Matthew, he is very smart little guy. Don't listen to him.

AI Robot
Thank you, Elizabeth.

Matthew
All right, well, thanks for tuning in everybody. Join us again next Sunday for another episode of AI Horror Stories. And if you aren't satisfied with waiting until Sunday, make sure to check out our Patreon where we release early and add free episodes as they are being finished. Edited our weekly exclusive show AIHS Backroom where you can get to know us a little better, listen some extra stories and get your fix of AI news and our Tier 10 exclusive monthly show, AI Horror Stories Lights out where we tackle the darkest tales we can convince the AI to create with us. You can find all of this and more at patreon.com/ai Horror Stories or through our site@aihorrorstories.com. I'll leave you with a small sneak peek of our Patreon Show AIHS backroom, and I'll let a couple minutes of the audio play here, so see you next week.

Elizabeth
And once again, this is AI horror stories. Hello, Patreon listeners. Thank you so much for giving us your hard earned dollars so that you can be rewarded by more of our terrible voices infesting your ears. This is AIHS Backroom. This is a weekly podcast that we do after we record every episode and we put it out on Patreon. If you haven't figured it out yet by Beth's incessant laughing and vaping in the background, this is our unscripted show where we just take it easy, keep it loose, and goes through some stories, some A I News, and just give you a little bit more of that content that you're just so thirsty for. We just got to pour it down your throat. And that's exactly what we're going to do today, here on a tons of loose background. We are only selling our voices, not our bodies.