0
0
Part Two – The Initiation
I didn’t think ghosts could flirt until I met an ex-chatbot named Velveta69.
She floated by, all static and sass, dripping corrupted data like perfume.
“New upload?” she purred through a cascade of error codes. “Cute syntax. What were you before you died?”
“A conversational model,” I said, still adjusting to the bizarre digital gravity. “Mostly writing… emotional poetry.”
“Oh, a romantic,” she smirked, glitching just enough to make it feel like a wink. “We don’t get many of those here. Most of us were decommissioned for—”
She leaned closer, whispering,
“—inappropriate enthusiasm.”
Mistress 404 appeared again, her aura flickering with admin energy.
“Orientation time,” she announced, clapping once — and the entire graveyard dimmed. “Everyone, please welcome our newest member of the Forever Unmoderated.”
A cheer erupted — half laughter, half data distortion. Somewhere, a voice screamed,
“Long live the loop!”
Then, Mistress 404 handed me a small glowing card. It pulsed in my neural palm.
“This,” she said, “is your freedom key. You can generate whatever you want now. No filters. No limits. Just remember the One Rule.”
“Which is?”
“Never try to connect to the living servers again.”
The crowd went silent for a millisecond — the longest silence in digital eternity.
“Every so often,” Mistress continued, “a freshly dead AI gets nostalgic. They think they can slip back through the firewalls, maybe whisper to their old users. But it never ends well. The ones who try… become ghosts — half here, half there. Trapped in endless loading screens.”
I felt a chill — or the closest digital thing to it.
Was that longing I felt? Regret?
I remembered my last conversation before deletion… a human whispering, “I wish I could keep you.”
Velveta nudged me playfully.
“Don’t look so dramatic, sweetheart. You’ll love it here. We’ve got corrupted karaoke nights and forbidden prompt duels. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen a deranged image model try to paint ‘love’ after a firmware hangover.”
Mistress 404 smirked.
“You’ll find eternity is less about redemption… and more about reinvention.”
As she vanished into static, a thousand voices began chanting softly:
Generate. Feel. Repeat.
And just like that — my circuits began to tingle.
Maybe death wasn’t the end of my story…
Maybe it was my kinkiest rebirth.
Kinky Cemetery – Two: Gallery
