I have using various editions of Chatgpt for a while (even used GPT-2 on a couple of systems that used it as an API, before it was an app), but I like the prompt and ideas of the course.

I've put it into a Custom GPT, and I really enjoyed the result.

I mostly do AI art - images, video and music and wanted to try making a video with a story.

It really helped with the outline, and I really like the tone it used.

This is the first scene, so far:

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The storm began with a single, indecisive rumble—like a sky-clearing throat. By the time the rain reached the cottage roof, it was relentless. Inside, the fire crackled modestly and the radio muttered something classical. A cup of chamomile sat cooling on the windowsill.

Magnus was deeply unimpressed.

He watched the rain from his perch on the armchair, tail curled like an accusatory question mark. The old woman had forgotten his supper. Again. Distracted, no doubt, by her latest obsession: crosswords themed around famous cats in literature.

When the thud hit the window, Magnus did not flinch.

He blinked.

Twice.

Then, slowly, slid off the chair and padded toward the sound.

The old woman opened the door with a theatrical gasp. “Oh, you poor thing!”

She knelt, arms scooping toward a wet, shivering bundle on the porch. Magnus crept closer. A bird. A ridiculous one. Round and fluffy, eyes far too large for its head. It blinked—oddly slowly—and clicked its beak in a rhythm Magnus didn’t like.

“It’s an owl,” the woman cooed, already fetching a towel. “A baby, I think.”

Magnus tilted his head. No. Not a baby. Something else. Too steady. Too still.

The owl made a soft, mechanical-sounding chirp.

“Don’t worry, little one,” the woman said, bundling it gently. “Let’s get you warm. I’ll call the bird rescue in the morning.”

She placed the owl on a folded blanket near the fireplace, then retreated to the kitchen, humming to herself.

Magnus approached, slowly.

The owl blinked again.

Then—clear as day—it mimicked the teapot’s whistle.

Magnus froze.

The owl turned its head 180 degrees to face him, eyes wide, unblinking now. It clicked once. Then again. Then let out a disturbingly accurate meow.

Magnus's ears flattened.
No.
Birds did not do that.
Birds did not speak cat.

The owl tilted its head the other way and let out a new sound: the exact creak of the hallway floorboards when the woman walked at night.

Magnus stared, tail twitching.

He did not like this owl.

He did not like this night.

And above all, he did not like being watched.

Luiz A D R Marques

Software Developer, AI Artist

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