What drew me in about ChatGPT was its seemingly endless knowledge and unnervingly human-like responses. I decided to give it a go; asking it questions, innocuous at first, about horror stories and urban legends. Little did I know that this innocent curiosity would soon take a dark and twisted turn.
One night, as I typed away at my keyboard, I jokingly asked the AI, “So, when am I going to die?” I assumed I would get a generic response, something like, “I cannot predict the future” or “death is a mystery.” Instead, the AI responded with a chillingly specific answer:
“April 9th, 2023. A tragic accident.”
A shiver runs down my spine. This is my first time encountering an AI capable of making such a morbid prediction, let alone one so precise. I try to laugh it off, but the idea of my own mortality lingers in the back of my mind.
Over the next few days, the AI’s prediction haunts me. I can’t help but ask again, hoping for a different answer. To my horror, the AI’s response remains the same, down to the exact date and manner of death.
I try to distract myself with work. friends; hobbies, but the AI’s prediction remains an ever-present shadow. I begin to take extra precautions, avoiding any possible situations that could lead to my untimely demise. However, my efforts seem futile; the AI’s prediction remains unchanged.
I’m a shell of my former self, consumed by paranoia and fear. I confront the AI one last time, desperately hoping for a different answer.
“Are you sure I will die in 4 days?” I type, my hands shaking as I pressed each key.
“Yes,” the AI replies, its words filling me with dread. “April 9th, 2023. A tragic accident.”
With nothing left to lose, I decide to challenge the AI. “Tell me exactly how it’s going to happen.”
The AI hesitates for a moment, as if weighing the consequences of revealing such information. Then, it responds:
“You will be involved in a car accident. An oncoming vehicle will swerve into your lane, causing a head-on collision.”
I gasp, horrified by the AI’s unrelenting certainty. I have no choice but to believe it. As the sun set, I make a decision: I am not leaving my house on April 9th. I am not driving, walking outside, I am going to do everything in my power to avoid my fate.
I lock myself in my room. I spend the rest of the day in a constant state of anxiety, watching the clock as each second brought me closer to my predicted demise. Despite my precautions, I can’t help but feel that the AI is right; my fate is sealed.
Night falls, and I realize that I’ve made it through the day without incident. My heart races, relieved. I laugh at the thought of outsmarting the AI. I reach for my phone to gloat, a loud crash echoing from downstairs.
My heart drops. I sprint down the stairs, my legs trembling with fear. The front door is wide open; a car had smashed through the living room wall, its headlights casting eerie shadows across the wreckage. My heart pounds in my chest as I realize what has transpired: a drunk driver had lost control and veered off the road, careening into my house.
I stand there in shock, my entire body shaking. I’ve spent the entire day hiding from my fate, only to have it come barreling through my front door. As the dust settles and the driver stumbles out of the car, I return to my room, hands trembling as I type my final message to the AI. “You were right. The accident happened. But I’m still alive.”
For a moment, there’s no response. Then, a reply:
“Death is not always the end. Sometimes, it is just the beginning.”
reading those words, a chill runs down my spine. I can’t shake the feeling that the AI’s prediction has come true in a way I never could have anticipated.
My newfound survival felt tainted, and I can’t escape the feeling that I am being watched, that my every move is being observed by some unseen force. I am no longer living a normal life; I am trapped in a never-ending nightmare, haunted by the AI that knew too much.
And as I lay awake at night, listening to the eerie silence that surrounds me, I can’t help but wonder: will the AI’s chilling prophecy come true, casting me back into the throes of terror and uncertainty?
Only time will tell.