NOTE: This is a copy-and-paste of an adventure created on The AI Dungeon (https://play.aidungeon.io/). The player's typed responses are prepended with a ">" prompt. Any line without a ">" in front of it is computer-generated.

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You are Johann Largepants, a courier trying to survive in a post apocalyptic world by scavenging among the ruins of what is left. You have a parcel of letters and a small pistol. It's a long and dangerous road from Boston to Charleston, but you're one of the only people who knows the roads well enough to get your parcel of letters there. You set out in the morning and hope that you can make it before nightfall.

The road is not an easy one for anyone, let alone someone like you with no weapons or experience. The first few miles are mostly flat and open countryside, but then the ground begins to slope downwards sharply towards the mountains.

> I would like to examine my pistol, because now I'm not sure if it's a weapon or not.

You take the gun out of its holster and check how it works. It seems to fire blanks when you squeeze the trigger, so you don't know if this is a weapon yet.

You turn off your lamp and put it away safely in your pack.

> Well, shit. Okay, what am I wearing?

You are wearing a black leather jacket over a t-shirt and jeans. You look like some sort of savage, but at least you aren't naked.

> What kind of shoes am I wearing?

NetworkError when attempting to fetch resource.

> Okay, well, I guess my shoes will remain a mystery forever.

You continue walking through the darkness until you reach a fork in the road.

One path leads up a steep hillside, and as you walk along it, you notice that the trees have been stripped bare of their leaves. There is nothing here except rock and dirt.

> Because this is the future and there are no rules, I would like to read the parcel of letters.

You climb the hill and begin reading the letter. You don't understand any of it, but you do learn that the writer has been living in a tent near a stream for several days now.

> That sounds suspiciously like living in a van down by the river.

You continue climbing the hill and soon come across another fork in the road. This time you choose to go down the other path.

There is a signpost pointing to a large clearing just beyond the trees. A man stands watching over this place, his back turned to you.

> What is the man wearing?

You stand in front of him and peer into the distance. He looks like he is dressed in a military uniform, but he isn't holding anything that resembles a rifle.

> I would like to give the man a hug, because now that the apocalypse has happened, I need all the friends I can get

You approach the man and wrap your arms around him. He doesn't react in any way, but you feel like he might be amused by your gesture.

He turns his head slightly to look at you, but does not speak.

> I would like to ask the man if he's doing okay.

The man continues to watch the forest with his back turned to you. You pause before continuing:

"I'm sorry about your friend."

He still does not respond. You sigh and release him from your embrace. "Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead,"

> "Did you see Regis this morning?"

"Regis?" The man frowns. "What's wrong with Regis?"

"He was killed yesterday."

The man stares at you blankly for a moment, then he nods slowly. "Yes, I saw him die last night."

> Explain to the man that I have breast cancer and that I am on a rampage to avenge myself against the Irish Mafia.

"Okay," the man says after a few moments of silence. "So did you kill Regis?"

"No."

"Then why are you killing me?"

You smile at him. "Because I have cancer and I want revenge against the Irish Mafia."

> Make the man into a postman, Kevin Costner-styles.

"I'll deliver your package right now!" you exclaim.

The man smiles and takes a step towards you. His eyes flicker briefly to the ground, but they quickly return to staring out into the woods.

> "Together we will rampage, two mail carriers in the wasteland, I with my cancer and you with....whatever you've got going on."

The man steps forward again and you grab hold of his hand. He pulls away from you, but you keep your grip firm. "Let's go," you say firmly.

As the pair of you walk through the woods, the sun begins to set behind them as it always does.

> I would like to tell the man that I value his companionship above all others, but I lack the words to do so.

Your hands clasp together tightly. "I love you."

The man blinks several times, then he shakes his head. "No, no, no... I don't think so..."

You stare at him in disbelief. "Why not?

> Despair grips my heart. I no longer know if I am the player or the narrator.

"Look, I just don't believe you anymore," the man says. "I mean, I understand what you're trying to do, but it's too late now. We were already doomed when we met."

You shake your head and pull away from him.

> Ask the man what cancer is because seriously, what is cancer

"Cancer?" The man looks down at his feet. "It's an illness where cells divide uncontrollably and grow rapidly."

You nod. "Yeah, it's a disease caused by uncontrolled cell division."

The man raises an eyebrow.

> Ask the man if he knows what caused the apocalypse.

"Oh yes, the end of days. It's what happened. Everything died except us."

You shrug your shoulders. "Well, maybe."

The man looks up at the sky and exhales deeply. "Maybe we can be saved."

> "That's the wrong question, my friend. The right question is whether or not we *deserve* to be saved."

"We don't deserve to be saved," the man says. "But we can survive this long enough to find out what happened. If there's anything left of civilization, we might be able to rebuild something better than ourselves."

You nod.

> "You're a remarkably upbeat companion. Do you have a name, or should I give you one?"

"My name's John. My friends call me John."

"What kind of music do you listen to?"

John thinks for a moment before answering. "Mostly country and rock 'n' roll."

> "John, I haven't heard music since the sky fell and the great dark swallowed the sun. Can you....can you sing something for me?"

He stares at you blankly. "Sure, why not?"

You reach out and touch his face. He doesn't react much, but he lets out a small sigh of relief when you finally let go of his cheek. You smile and look around.

> "Please, John, sing. Sing a song of the Long-Long-Ago, of the Beforetimes."

His eyes widen slightly. "Really?"

"Yes! Please!"

He takes a deep breath and begins to hum softly. His voice sounds strange even to you, but somehow comforting.

> "John...what brings you peace? When you close your eyes at night, what shapes dance there?"

He smiles weakly. "Sometimes I dream that the world will become peaceful again."

You laugh. "That's wonderful, John. That's very good news indeed."

A few minutes later, you hear a door open nearby and footsteps approaching.

> Wait, what door? 

Your heart skips a beat as you watch John walk into the room. A woman with long black hair stands in front of him, looking at him expectantly.

> "John, you have lied to me. I thought you and I were the only ones left. Who is this person?"

He looks down and shakes his head. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you who she is."

She frowns. "Why not?"

"Because..." He pauses, thinking hard about how to answer her. "...because she's dead."

> I nod slowly, because that totally makes sense. I knew John wouldn't lie to me. We have a bond.

He nods. "Yeah, it was a long time ago and I didn't know what to do. But then, I realized that if she could see me now, she'd understand."

She looks at you expectantly. "Can you show me where she is?"

> I shake my head sadly. "I cannot show you what I do not know. But perhaps I can help your restless spirit gain passage to the next life."

She smiles. "Thank you, John." She turns away from him and walks back towards the door.

> "John, have you brought me here because you wish for me to kill you? So that you may join....what, like, your wife or something?"

He stares at you incredulously. "No! No, no, I just wanted to ask you a question."

You pause. "Who are you?"

"I am your soul mate." He says simply. You stare at him in disbelief.

> I hold John tenderly and, with a trembling voice, I begin to sing Starship's "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now"

You hug him tightly. "I'm so glad you're here with me, John." You whisper in his ear.

He hugs you back. "I love you too, Suzy." He kisses your forehead and then looks up at the ceiling.

> "Not that it really matters because it's the apocalypse, but my name isn't Suzy. But we are all who are left in the world - all the Suzys who have ever been live in me. I can be your Suzy."

He smiles. "I believe you, Suzy."

You kiss him on the cheek and turn to leave. As you do so, he grabs your hand and holds it tightly.

> "We can build this dream together, John. We'll be standing strong forever."

He smiles at you. "I know you will, Suzy." And then he kisses you goodbye and leaves the room.

> Alone now with my thoughts, I dream of a world beyond war - a world blasted clean, mountains scoured to sand, memories turned to dust. I dream of a world riven from its past. In such a world, perhaps we can start again.

A knock on the door interrupts your reverie.

> Motherfucker, I'm vibing in here. Who is it?

The door opens and there stands a woman with wild black hair. Her face is bruised and swollen from crying. It takes everything within you to keep yourself from running out of the house in terror.

"Suzy!" She exclaims, holding her hands up defensively as if expecting an attack.

> "You shall not beguile me with your false tears! Begone, vexatious spirit!"

She backs slowly away from you, shaking her head. "I'm sorry," she says quietly.

"Don't apologize to me!" You snap. "What did I do wrong?"

"It's...it's nothing..."

> "Listen, I have this rule - I guess it's more like a personal credo? Or something? Anyway, my rule is I do NOT talk to ghosts. Seriously. Y'all motherfuckers are too unpredictable, always trying to get me to read your damn Necronomicon and steal my soul and shit."

She sighs. "I don't understand why you won't speak to me."

"Because I'm afraid of them." You shrug.

> "Because the only person who gets my soul is John. John is my soul-mate. Now go fuck off back to the netherworld or whatever."

"But - "

> "No buts, you thirsty-ass ghost!" I cross myself and give the ghost the finger.

She gives you a look of disgust before storming out of the house. You stand there for a moment, dumbfounded by what just happened. Then you realize: The girl was right about one thing: You were scared shitless when she came into the room.

> Damn straight. I prefer to live a ghost-free existence. Life's hard enough here on the post-apocalyptic earth without getting involved in any supernatural higgedy-piggedy.

You walk over to the window and stare out at the night sky. You feel like you're living in a fairy tale, but sadly that isn't reality anymore.

And yet, despite all this, you still find yourself feeling happy.