Horror Story About a Portal AI Generator

Neon from the laptop cast jagged shadows across Alex's cramped apartment. Rain slicked the window like oil. Fingers hovering, he hit enter: 'Portal to forgotten realm.' The AI whirred, pixels swirling into a razor-thin gash in reality, six inches wide, hovering above the desk. Frost rimed its edges.

A draft whispered through, carrying damp earth and something metallic, like blood on stone. Alex leaned closer, breath fogging the rift. Inside: endless black, speckled with drifting motes that pulsed like distant eyes. 'Incredible,' he muttered, heart thudding. The AI's voice chimed softly: 'Portal stable. Expand?' He nodded, mesmerized.

The gash stretched to two feet, humming louder, vibrating the coffee mug until it shattered. From the void came a rustle—dry leaves? Claws on gravel? Alex's skin prickled; he smelled wet fur now, mingling with his stale pizza. 'Close it,' he typed, but the keyboard felt slick, unresponsive. The rift yawned wider.

His reflection warped in the portal's sheen—not his face, but hollow cheeks, eyes too large, staring back with his own smile. A voice slithered out, not from speakers: 'We've waited, Alex. Your thoughts called us.' Sweat beaded his forehead; memories flickered unbidden—childhood shadows that moved alone.

He yanked the power cord. Sparks flew, but the portal held, edges curling like hungry mouths. Fingers—long, pale, tipped with black nails—probed the air, tasting. Alex stumbled back, chair toppling, pulse roaring in his ears. The AI screen rebooted unprompted: 'Portal expanding. Welcome home.'

The rift swelled to fill the room, devouring the bedframe with a wet crunch. Whispers layered into a chorus, chanting his name in voices he'd dreamed but never admitted. Cold wrapped his legs, pulling. He clawed the carpet, nails splintering. The last light from his phone illuminated a face in the dark—his own, grinning from the other side.

The apartment fell silent. The portal pulsed, waiting for the next query.