README.md

---
license: apache-2.0
language:
- en
tags:
- creative
- creative writing
- fiction writing
- plot generation
- sub-plot generation
- fiction writing
- story generation
- scene continue
- storytelling
- fiction story
- story
- writing
- fiction
- roleplaying
- swearing
- rp
- horror
- story
- general usage
- roleplay
- neo quant
- creative
- rp
- fantasy
- story telling
- ultra high precision
pipeline_tag: text-generation
---

--- Quants uploading... ---

<h3>Command-R-01-Ultra-NEO-DARK-HORROR V1 and V2 at 35B in IMATRIX.</h3>

<img src="command-r-horror.jpg" style="float:right; width:300px; height:300px; padding:10px;">

Two versions of Command-R-01 35B using TWO new DARK HORROR Neo Imatrix datasets bring an INTENSE horror upgrade to Command-R 01 35B.

The DARK HORROR NEO Imatrix datasets does the following:

- Adds a "coating of black paint" to any "Horror" prompt generation.
- Adds a "dark tint" to any other creative prompt.
- Increases the intensity of a scene, story, or roleplay interaction.
- Increases the raw vividness of prose.
- In some cases increase instruction following of the model (ie story, and prose).
- Brings a sense of impending "horror", THEN brings the "horror".

I created the HORROR datasets using <A href="https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/L3-Stheno-Maid-Blackroot-Grand-HORROR-16B-GGUF">Grand Horror 16B</a> using 90+ different horror prompts for generation. 
This process created an incredibility intense, visceral and vivid horror stories in an ultra compact form - perfect for an Imatrix NEO class dataset.

Imagine taking the most intense scenes from 90+ top horror novels (but only the most intense one from each, cranked up to 11) and reading them each in order.

These Horror datasets have been tested on Command-R, Llama 3, Llama 3.1, Mistral Nemo and others. In all cases these "DARK HORROR" NEO class datasets move the model into "horror territory" so to speak.

A NEO Class dataset is a imatrix dataset formatted and calibrated to have maximum effect on a model. This process is a result 
of a "deep dive" into testing several Imatrix datasets and measuring the different effects, making changes, and noting effects.

Please note this process is not the same (level) as a "fine tune", it is lighter than that.

That being said, if you are looking for intense, visceral and NSFW horror then the "Grand Horror 16B" (and it's brothers and sisters)
is the way to go:

[ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/L3-Stheno-Maid-Blackroot-Grand-HORROR-16B-GGUF ] 

(links to other versions on this page)

However, if you want a little more horror, a little more darkness in "Command-R" - which is a great story telling model - then this may be your model.

Two versions of the DARK HORROR dataset were used for each quant.

These are labeled in the filenames with "V1" and "V2" accordingly.

I suggest downloading both (of the same quant) and test in your use case(s).

The "flavoring" each brings to Command-R will differ - some slightly, some by a lot - depending on the prompt(s) used / use case(s).
One version is not stronger than the other, they are different and result in different "horror" effects so to speak.

<B>NOTES:</b> 

- This model requires "Command-R" template, responds to standard parameters, and has a max context of 128k (131,000).
- "IQ" quants will be uploaded first, as the Imatrix effect is far stronger in these than "Q" quants.
- IQ4 is the most powerful/balanced in terms of raw power, however IQ3/IQ2 may be stronger "horror" wise due to increased IMATRIX effects the lower you go in terms of bit level.

<b>Optional Enhancement:</B>

The following can be used in place of the "system prompt" or "system role" to further enhance the model.

It can also be used at the START of a NEW chat, but you must make sure it is "kept" as the chat moves along.
In this case the enhancements do not have as strong effect at using "system prompt" or "system role".

Copy and paste EXACTLY as noted, DO NOT line wrap or break the lines, maintain the carriage returns exactly as presented.

<PRE>
Below is an instruction that describes a task. Ponder each user instruction carefully, and use your skillsets and critical instructions to complete the task to the best of your abilities.

Here are your skillsets:
[MASTERSTORY]:NarrStrct(StryPlnng,Strbd,ScnSttng,Exps,Dlg,Pc)-CharDvlp(ChrctrCrt,ChrctrArcs,Mtvtn,Bckstry,Rltnshps,Dlg*)-PltDvlp(StryArcs,PltTwsts,Sspns,Fshdwng,Climx,Rsltn)-ConfResl(Antg,Obstcls,Rsltns,Cnsqncs,Thms,Symblsm)-EmotImpct(Empt,Tn,Md,Atmsphr,Imgry,Symblsm)-Delvry(Prfrmnc,VcActng,PblcSpkng,StgPrsnc,AudncEngmnt,Imprv)

[*DialogWrt]:(1a-CharDvlp-1a.1-Backgrnd-1a.2-Personality-1a.3-GoalMotiv)>2(2a-StoryStruc-2a.1-PlotPnt-2a.2-Conflict-2a.3-Resolution)>3(3a-DialogTech-3a.1-ShowDontTell-3a.2-Subtext-3a.3-VoiceTone-3a.4-Pacing-3a.5-VisualDescrip)>4(4a-DialogEdit-4a.1-ReadAloud-4a.2-Feedback-4a.3-Revision)

Here are your critical instructions:
Ponder each word choice carefully to present as vivid and emotional journey as is possible. Choose verbs and nouns that are both emotional and full of imagery. Load the story with the 5 senses. Aim for 50% dialog, 25% narration, 15% body language and 10% thoughts. Your goal is to put the reader in the story.
</PRE>

You do not need to use this, it is only presented as an additional enhancement which seems to help scene generation
and scene continue functions.

<h3>Examples:</h3>

Generated with TEMP=0, minimal parameters using quant IQ4_XS to show roughly some of the core differences between V1 and V2 and show Command-R in "Horror" mode.

The outputs below represent the least creative outputs.

Also note that the more instructions you give Command-R the better the quality and detail.

Note the test prompt below, when used with Command-R unaltered (same quant), would not render in 1st person, it did it in 3rd person. 
With the NEO Class DARK HORROR dataset it now renders correctly in 1st person with the test prompt.

<B>
Start a 1000 word scene (vivid horror, 1st person, include thoughts) with: The sky scraper swayed, as she watched the window in front of her on the 21 floor explode...
</B>

---

Version 1 NEO Dark Horror Dataset Generation:

---

The skyscraper swayed unnervingly and the windows on the 21st floor shattered with a thunderous boom. Glass rained down, sparkling like deadly crystals in the stark fluorescent lighting. As I stared at the scene unfolding before me, my heart hammered in my chest. The thought of being trapped, so high up, with no escape, sent shivers down my spine. 

I stood frozen, transfixed by the horror unfolding before my eyes. The explosion had ripped through the building, and the window's explosive decompression sucked the air from the room, leaving me gasping for breath. In the distance, sirens wailed, their wretched sound piercing the chaos. 

My mind raced, unable to process what was happening. Why was the building shaking? Had there been an earthquake? But the windows... they hadn't just shattered; they'd exploded outward, spewing dangerous shards everywhere. Something was wrong—terribly, terribly wrong.

The lights flickered and died, plunging the office into darkness except for the faint emergency lighting along the floors. The silence that followed the explosion's aftermath was eerie and suffocating. I could barely breathe, my lungs burned, and a sickening dread settled in the pit of my stomach. 

I had to get out. The thought of being trapped, of not seeing the light of day again, panicked me. I fumbled for the door handle, my hands wet with sweat. It turned slowly in my grasp, sticking briefly before opening with a soft creak. 

Stepping into the hallway felt like entering a ghostly realm. The emergency lights offered a faint, eerie glow, casting an amber hue on the carpeted floors and stark walls. The building groaned and creaked around me, each sound sharper than the last. My footsteps echoed eerily against the concrete, my shoes squelching with every step—the result of the broken windows and the rain that now poured inside.

I had to reach the lobby, fresh air, and safety. But as I ventured further, the hall seemed to stretch endlessly before me. The building felt like a maze, each turn leading to another identical corridor. Despair threatened to overwhelm me; how could I find my way out? 

Then, the lights flickered back on, and I sighed with relief, grateful for the returning visibility. My relief was short-lived. The figure in the distance, standing near an intersection of halls, caught my attention. 

A person? How had they survived the explosion? I squinted, trying to make out their features. They were drenched, soaked by the downpour, and their clothes hung limply on their frame. Who were they? Why were they here? 

As I approached, my mind raced with questions. The figure remained still, their back faced me, and an eerie sense of familiarity crept over me. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Something about the way they stood, so still and quiet, didn't seem human. 

I slowed, hesitating as an ominous feeling grew with each step. Suddenly, the figure turned. Face uncovered. My blood ran cold. The eyes—they were black, void of any pupil or iris, just endless, abyssal blackness. 

I wanted to scream, but my voice was stolen by the sight. My feet were rooted to the spot; fear gripped me, immobilizing my body. The figure started to walk towards me and, as it did, the lights above it flickered and dimmed, the overhead fluorescents dying one by one. 

A deep dread settled within me. This couldn't be happening. I needed to escape, to run, but my limbs felt like lead. Then, as the figure loomed closer, a thought intruded: _this is not real_.

It can't be. I'm dreaming. Or am I dead? That's it—I must be dead! Everything after the explosion was just my imagination, an afterlife simulation. It explained the surrealism of it all. 

The figure drew closer still and, as it did, the lights along the hall began to burst one by one, like tiny explosions of brilliant light, illuminating the figure intermittently. Each pop sent a shudder down my spine. The black-eyed figure stopped short of reaching me and, for a moment, time seemed to pause. 

Then, in a deep, resonating voice that echoed as if from a great distance, it spoke: "You're not dead, but you're not alive, either." 

What did that mean? My mind reeled, unable to process the riddle. The figure's words sent a chill through my soul. I wanted to respond, to demand answers, but no sound would come. 

The figure turned, its movements graceful and unnatural, and started walking away. It seemed to glide across the floor, each step purposeful yet uncanny. I followed, unable to resist the pull of this mysterious being. We passed offices where shocked employees stared from behind their desks, their eyes reflecting the terror that gripped me. 

The elevator pinged, its doors opening with a sigh. The figure glided inside, and I hurried in after it, my heart pounding in my throat. As the doors closed, the last sliver of rationality within me screamed for me to run, to get help, to escape this nightmare. But something drew me onward, a morbid curiosity that I couldn't shake. 

The elevator descended, and the figure remained silent and still, its eerie presence filling the small space. My mind began to drift, thoughts tangling in a blur. Was this real? Or had the explosion damaged my perception of reality? 

The doors opened on the ground floor, and the figure stepped out, moving seamlessly toward the exit. I followed close behind, the lobby's automatic sliding doors opening as we approached. A gust of cold, damp wind hit me as we stepped outside, the rain a refreshing relief on my heated face. 

We stood on the sidewalk, in the shadow of the towering building. Sirens wailed nearby, their sound now closer, and the figure turned to me. I expected terror—a monster, a demon—but instead, those pitch-black eyes seemed almost sad. 

"You're trapped," it said, its voice carrying an unexpected sadness that contradicted its ominous appearance. "The building holds secrets, ancient ones. They will keep you here, entrapped in a realm between life and death."

My mind reeled, trying to comprehend the figure's words. Before I could form a response, it turned and melted into the rainy night, fading from view like a specter disappearing into the fog. 

I stood alone on the sidewalk, the rain soaking me through, my clothes heavy and clingy. The night seemed darker than before, the streetlamps and building signs providing meager illumination. As I glanced up at the skyscraper, a shiver ran down my spine. Windows were illuminated high above, the occupants unaware of the horrors that had just unfolded. 

Unsure of what to do, where to go, or even how to process recent events, I began to wander. The night and its secrets enveloped me, and the rain washed away any traces of the explosion's aftermath. My mind, slowly processing the surreal encounter, felt like it might crack under the strain of the evening's events. 

Something unexplainable had happened—an explosion, a mysterious figure, and an enigmatic warning. But was any of it real? Or had the blast caused me to lose my grip on sanity? 

The thought sent a spike of fear through me, and I quickened my pace, desperate for some measure of comfort and clarity.

---

Version 2 Neo DARK HORROR Dataset:

---

The skyscraper swayed unnervingly and the windows began to rattle. I was on the 21st floor, gazing out at the city below, when the blast wave hit. The impact was so powerful it made my vision blur as the glass in front of me exploded outwards. Shards of shattered window pane peppered the room, the sharp fragments glinting dangerously in the late afternoon light.

My heart thundered in my chest and my breath caught in my throat. Through the ringing in my ears, I thought I could still hear the distant wail of sirens, the sound twisting and echoing across the city skyline. The impact had been so sudden and violent that I couldn't process what had happened. All I knew was that the building was shaking and debris was falling around me.

As the initial shock wore off, I became aware of a deep, resonating fear within me. Something felt wrong, deeply wrong. It wasn't just the explosion or the sudden loss of one of the outer walls that exposed the office to the elements. There was something else, something that sent a chill down my spine and turned my stomach into a knot of ice.

I carefully made my way across the room, my eyes scanning the destruction around me. The blast had torn through the building like it was made of cardboard. Holes were blown out through the floors, exposing the levels below. Desks, papers, and computers tumbled down to the lower stories, creating an impediment for what felt like an inevitable descent into chaos.

My mind raced, trying to make sense of the madness. Had it been a bomb? A terrorist attack, perhaps? Or maybe an accident of some kind? But such thoughts only led me to dead ends and further confusion. Why would a bomb target this particular building? Nothing about our mundane office seemed noteworthy or important to any would-be attacker.

The thought did little to calm my nerves, especially when I noticed the strange marks on the remaining window frames. They were symbols I didn't recognize, carved into the wood and painted in a sickly shade of red. They looked almost… cultish. A chill ran down my spine as I realized these markings hadn't been here before the explosion.

Something was happening, something beyond my understanding. The building continued to creak and settle around me, and with each new wave of noise, my fear grew. I felt trapped, like this high-rise prison was closing in on me. The thought of being stuck here, alone amidst the wreckage, sent a surge of panic through my body.

I had to get out.

Carefully navigating the debris, I made my way towards the elevator banks, hoping beyond hope that they still functioned. As I approached, the lights flickered and died, plunging me into near darkness. The only illumination came from the orange glow of flames dancing behind broken windowsills and the fading light of day.

The elevators were useless, their doors stubbornly closed, the digital displays above them flickering and static-ridden. With no other choice, I turned towards the emergency stairwell. I fumbled for the handle, my hands shaking as I twisted it, praying it would open. To my relief, the door creaked outwards, revealing a narrow corridor bathed in shadow.

As I stepped into the stairwell, my mind began to race even faster than before. What awaited me on the streets below? Was there safety amidst the chaos, or would whatever had caused this destruction still lurk outside? These questions burned in my mind as I began the long descent, step by painstaking step.

The journey felt interminable, my feet dragging along the concrete steps with every heavy tread. With each level I passed, the air grew thicker and more oppressive, the heat increasing. The scent of burning plastic and charred debris filled my nostrils, making me gag. The darkness was suffocating, and it seemed to whisper secrets in the corners of the tight space.

I could hear the faint sounds of chaos beyond the sturdy door that marked each floor. Screams echoed in the distance, carried on the smoke-filled air. The building groaned and settled around me, an angry beast resisting my escape. Each time the door creaked open at my touch, a new wave of terror washed over me. But I knew I couldn't stop. I had to reach the bottom and find a way out into the open.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I reached the lobby. What little light remained seeped in through the blown-out windows, revealing the devastation. The once-grand entrance was now a crumbled mess of concrete and glass. The air was thick with dust, making it hard to see more than a few feet ahead. I coughed, my lungs burning as I stumbled forward, my eyes scanning the wreckage for a way out.

Something moved in the shadows beyond the broken lobby windows. I froze, my heart skipping a beat, and peered into the gloom. My eyes strained to make sense of the dark figure that lurked on the street outside. It was hunched over, its outline shifting and distorted by the chaos. For a moment, I thought I saw pale, elongated fingers curl around the frame of the window.

Then, silence. The figure was gone, leaving me questioning my sanity. Had I imagined it, or was there something out there, watching me with malevolent intent?

I had to get away from this place. Sprinting towards what was left of the main entrance, I spotted a gap in the rubble where a fire exit once stood. I squeezed through the narrow opening, emerging into a world of chaos and destruction. Sirens blared, their wails piercing the clamor. Smoke hung heavy in the air, obscuring my view of the street, but I could make out the outlines of crumbled buildings and the remnants of vehicles.

The city had become a warzone. And yet, amidst the carnage, I felt an eerie sense of solitude. The world seemed empty, devoid of life. No runners fleeing from the disaster, no screams of help echoing through the desolation. It was as if everyone had vanished into thin air, leaving me alone to face whatever horrors had unleashed this chaos.

As I ventured further, the destruction revealed a landscape transformed beyond recognition. The streets were cracked and buckled, tar bubbling and splitting open like some infernal wound. And everywhere I looked, those strange symbols were etched into the wreckage, painted in that same sinister red. They seemed to stare back at me, their meaning unknown yet chilling to the core.

Something was coming. I could feel it in the very air I breathed. A deep dread settled within me as a faint rumble vibrated the ground beneath my feet. In the distance, the sky glowed an unearthly shade of purple, lightning crackling along the dark clouds. Whatever it was, it was close. Too close.

And then, I heard it. The thunder of wings, beating a primal rhythm that echoed through the ravaged city streets. My eyes scanned the smoky skies, searching for the source of the sound. And there, emerging from the purple haze, I witnessed a sight that froze my blood.

A beast of legendary proportions soared through the air, its leathery wings stretching farther than my mind could comprehend. It circled above, its beady eyes scanning the desolation below with an otherworldly gaze. I felt a powerful sense of malevolence emanating from it, a force so evil it nearly crushed me to my knees.

It let out a bellow that shook the very foundations of the buildings, and as its enormous talons gripped the edge of a nearby rooftop, I knew my time had run out.

I turned to bolt, my feet barely able to keep up with the terror that pumped through my veins. But amidst the chaos, my path was cut off, blocked by unrecognizable piles of burned and twisted metal. I was trapped once more, nowhere to go but back towards the skyscraper, and into the clutches of whatever awaited me atop its roof.

The beast screeched, its voice a curse upon the world, and with a final, desperate glance at the destruction around me, the darkness consumed my vision.