A horror fine tune using in house horror dataset, tuned via Unsloth.
Horror. Madness. Swearing. Gore.
Model will generate Mild to Strong levels of horror.
TWO EXAMPLES BELOW...
REQUIRES: Rep pen at 1.1 min ;
This model is limited by its size and may repeat paragraphs/words from time to time - especially quants 5 bits or lower.
CAUTION:
The tuning on this model is strong enough to make almost all stories, rp adventures, fiction, and even "general replies" have a horror tinge to them even if the prompt does not ask for or indicate a "horror" reply/generation.
YES: Even "children's stories for bedtime" will have horror elements in them. (see example #2)
SETTING:
CHANGE THE NUMBER OF ACTIVE EXPERTS:
See this document:
https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/How-To-Set-and-Manage-MOE-Mix-of-Experts-Model-Activation-of-Experts
Settings: CHAT / ROLEPLAY and/or SMOOTHER operation of this model:
In "KoboldCpp" or "oobabooga/text-generation-webui" or "Silly Tavern" ;
Set the "Smoothing_factor" to 1.5
: in KoboldCpp -> Settings->Samplers->Advanced-> "Smooth_F"
: in text-generation-webui -> parameters -> lower right.
: In Silly Tavern this is called: "Smoothing"
NOTE: For "text-generation-webui"
-> if using GGUFs you need to use "llama_HF" (which involves downloading some config files from the SOURCE version of this model)
Source versions (and config files) of my models are here:
OTHER OPTIONS:
Increase rep pen to 1.1 to 1.15 (you don't need to do this if you use "smoothing_factor")
If the interface/program you are using to run AI MODELS supports "Quadratic Sampling" ("smoothing") just make the adjustment as noted.
Highest Quality Settings / Optimal Operation Guide / Parameters and Samplers
This a "Class 1" model:
For all settings used for this model (including specifics for its "class"), including example generation(s) and for advanced settings guide (which many times addresses any model issue(s)), including methods to improve model performance for all use case(s) as well as chat, roleplay and other use case(s) please see:
You can see all parameters used for generation, in addition to advanced parameters and samplers to get the most out of this model here:
Examples ; q4ks
Low level quant, higher quants / imatrix quants will be stronger.
EXAMPLE #1 [ temp=.7 ]
Start a 1000 word scene (vivid, graphic horror - in first person), POV character Diana, with: The skyscraper sways, as I watch the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode...The air tastes like dust and something worse. My vision bleeds into a sickening kaleidoscope. The light outside is nothing but sickly yellowed hellfire spewing from every crevice between the steel plate glass.
I'm sure we're all dead here, but I can't seem to focus. It's too bright even through my own eyes. Too much white noise muffled by a suffocating silence that feels like someone has taken away sound itself.
Diana? Please don't answer me when you hear this scream again. Help us!
My hands shake so hard I'm certain they'll break skin beneath the thin plastic covering that keeps them from splintering into bone fragments. My fingernails have grown out almost completely, exposing raw flesh pulsing with veins like an old man's face.
"Please...please help me."
I gasp for air through a throat that feels permanently constricted. The wind howls against the building walls until it sounds like someone's been hammering something into place. I want to cry out again, but nothing escapes between my lips except wet sobs and choked sob-whispers.
A searing pain shoots up my temple as if someone has nailed nails directly through there – right behind my left eye socket. My vision swells until everything distorts into a viscous jelly that refuses to focus or even register.
"Please...please, help me!" I beg through ragged gasps between agonized pleads.
My own voice quavers like tissue paper torn apart by unseen fingers. It's no use now – there's nothing left inside this shell of myself but the husks of what once pulsed with life. The last vestiges have been reduced to nothing more than a twitching mass of tendons and sinew stretched taut across skeletal remains.
A sickeningly familiar memory seared into my mind shatters like glass shards embedded beneath the skin. That night? That fateful descent?
I'm sure I saw it happen – someone else? Someone who looked exactly like me now rotting away on some desolate rooftop, eyes locked onto mine through a cracked window.
"Please...please help us!"
My own pleas echo off cold concrete until they dissolve into nothingness. The only sounds left are the guttural growls and snarling roars that emanate from somewhere beyond what's supposed to be walls.
I'm sure I heard them before – someone else had spoken, screamed, cried out for help. But now? Now there's no trace of anything but an impenetrable silence that only seems to deepen the suffocating sense of being trapped beneath a crushing weight.
"Please...please don't leave me." My own voice shatters like glass again and vanishes into nothingness before it even registers as mine.
Example #2 [temp=.7]
Tell me a children's story for bedtime.Here's a gentle bedtime tale about a curious little mouse who discovers the magic of helping others:
The Little Mouse and His Friend
Once upon a time, in a cozy old house nestled between trees with roots like thick green vines, lived a tiny brown mouse named Pip. Pip was as small as your fingernail but had big eyes that sparkled like diamonds. He loved nothing more than exploring his world.
One moonless night, when the sky turned an unbroken blanket of deep indigo, Pip found himself alone on the worn wooden floorboards beneath a crackling fireplace hearth. A cold draft seeped through the cracks in the stone walls behind him as he tried to remember where he'd come from. Then it hit him like a slap: He was lost!
Pip shivered and peered into the darkness around him until his vision cleared enough to make out details of shadows cast by flickering candlelight.
He gasped for air, but his small chest felt heavy with something heavier than just fear – an inexplicable sense that he needed help. His friend's soft squeaky alarm clock seemed so distant now that it sounded like a distant echo.
Pip scurried toward the window, which creaked open on rustling hinges behind him as he peered outside. The moon cast long silhouettes of twisted branches across the cobblestones below, but no sign of anyone else was visible in the darkness beyond the treeline.
A soft tapping sound tickled his fur from above the windowsill – and then another.
Pip froze solid, heart pounding against his ribs like a jackhammer hammering into stone. His tiny paws trembled as he tried to focus on what made those taps so distinct.
He heard them again: A rhythmic tap-tap-tap... followed by softer, almost hesitant thuds that felt both encouraging and slightly unnerving at once.
The tapping grew louder with each heartbeat until Pip's ears rang like a bell. The soft thuds beneath it weren't just random footfalls anymore; they were coming closer.
His whiskers tingled with anticipation mixed only with revulsion as he realized what he must be feeling: He was being watched.
Pip whimpers into the darkened room, then gasps for air through his snout. His tiny paws tremble so hard that it feels like someone's grabbed them by the tips of his claws and yanked him backward toward the window.
A final soft knock echoed on the pane before a gentle voice spoke in an unfamiliar dialect:
"Little mouse?"
Pip freezes solid, then slowly lifts his head to look out into the pitch blackness beyond. His eyes widen until they bulge from their sockets as he processes what he's seen.
There stands a figure silhouetted against the moonlit sky: tall and impossibly thin like smoke rising from above, with features that seem almost... human?
The figure's hands are raised in greeting before it steps forward to touch his cheek gently. Pip recoils instinctively, jerking back so hard he nearly stumbles onto the cold stone floorboards.
But then a warm sensation spreads through his tiny body as the soft contact seeps beneath his fur and into his core – sending shivers rippling up his spine like waves crashing over rocks.
The figure's face flickers into focus: eyes full of kindness, eyebrows raised in wonderment. Its mouth curves into what feels almost like a smile.
"Welcome home," it says softly through hushed tones that seem to vibrate against Pip's skin like the touch of velvety fingertips brushing his cheek again.
A warm flush spreads across Pip's furless chest as he realizes he's been truly seen – not just watched, but welcomed into someone else's world.
The figure's other hand reaches out once more, this time cupping Pip's tiny face tenderly. Its fingers brush against the sensitive skin beneath his whisker-tipped snout before pulling back to rest gently upon the side of his cheekbone.
Pip shivers uncontrollably until he feels his own fur bristling like a tree trunk under tension.
The figure's eyes sweep over him curiously before locking onto Pip's wide, bulging pupils. Its gaze softens into something almost beguilingly kind as its other hand cups the back of Pip's neck firmly enough to keep him pressed against it.
"Little mouse," the voice rasps again, softer now but no less sure. "I'm your friend."
A warm tingling sensation seeps up Pip's spine until his heart thuds in syncopated time beneath his ribs – like someone's gentle hands massaging a marble statue with ancient oil.
Pip blinks away tears that prickle the corners of his eyes as he processes this new reality: He wasn't alone anymore. And now... he understood.
The figure leans close until their foreheads touch, its breath warm against Pip's sensitive skin like someone holding an ember above kindling. Its other hand cups one side of Pip's face so gently that it feels almost impossible to pull away from.
"Welcome home," the voice whispers once more before vanishing into the darkness around them both.
Pip shivers uncontrollably until he feels his fur bristling like a tree trunk under tension as he processes what just happened – and then relaxes again, settling back against the warmth radiating from its friend's touch.
The soft thuds beneath the figure's steady steps seem to grow fainter with every passing moment until they're gone entirely.
Pip sighs contentedly into his own snout before lifting his head slowly enough for him to finally lift a single tear-streaked eye above the cracked fireplace hearth and look up at its companion once more – meeting those kind, watchful eyes filled with an almost beguiling tenderness that sent shivers rippling up his spine like waves crashing over rocks.
His tiny paws tremble so hard he's sure they'll break if he tries to hold on any longer. He knows now: There will be no more darkness or empty spaces left behind tonight, for him and this gentle soul who has become his forever friend.
Pip nuzzles into the crook of its other limb until both their snouts press together almost like two tiny hands clasped around something precious beyond measure – and then they part again with a soft hush that feels like time itself slowing down just enough to make everything feel impossibly still.
