Okay, so here’s what this is all about. One of my jobs requires me to work with—and I think, understand how to use—AI. As a result, I decided to explore a few different online AI websites and which ones were free or cost money. Which ones rendered well or were limited.
One of the websites I came across was perchance.org. It allowed me to generate images and text for stories. So, I did both. I asked the website to generate a story about: “A clandestine meeting causes a private eye to investigate a small-town murder.” And it did. Then, I asked the same website to generate an image of said detective. I will include these images within the stories.
I have only read through the story to clean up any… non-family-friendly situations and swears. Otherwise, anything that the AI could not keep track of is left alone. I allowed the website to generate possible outcomes, then I would pick one and let the story continue. I have broken this story up into multiple parts, over multiple weeks. Enjoy.
Johnny slipped into the shadows, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of life. The town was asleep, but he knew better than to trust appearances. There was a killer out there, and he was about to start poking the hornet’s nest.
He ducked under the tape, his heart pounding in his chest. The office door was ajar, and he pushed it open slowly, the hinges groaning a silent protest. Inside, the room was a mess—papers scattered, drawers pulled out, and the faint metallic scent of blood lingered in the air.
The floor was stained dark in the corner, and Johnny felt a twinge of anger at the thought of Janice discovering this. He took out his phone and snapped a few pictures, noting the lack of fingerprints and signs of forced entry. This wasn’t a random act of violence—it was calculated and personal.
He stepped outside again, the cool air a stark contrast to the stifling office. The town clock chimed in the distance, each toll a reminder of the time ticking away. He had to move fast before the locals started asking questions.
Johnny had a hunch that Janice’s sighting was just the tip of the iceberg. The mayor’s murder was a puzzle with too many missing pieces, and he intended to find them. He slipped back into the shadows, his eyes adjusting to the darkness as he surveyed the surrounding buildings.
As he stalked the perimeter, he heard the faint sound of a phone ringing. He froze, his senses on high alert. The ringing grew louder, coming from a nearby alleyway. He approached cautiously, his hand hovering over the gun in his holster.
The alley was empty, except for a phone lying on the ground, still ringing. It was Janice’s. He picked it up and hit the answer button, his heart racing. “This is Johnny McQueen,” he said, his voice a low growl.
The line was silent for a moment before a frantic voice spoke, “Oh, thank Goodness! Janice, are you okay?” It was a woman, her words tinged with desperation.
Johnny’s eyes narrowed. “This is Janice’s phone. Who’s this?”
“It’s her sister, Laura,” the woman replied, her voice shaking. “What’s going on? Why do you have her phone?”
He could feel the tension coiling around him like a snake. “Look, Laura, Janice is in trouble. She saw something she wasn’t supposed to, and now she’s scared. I’m a private investigator, and I’m going to help her.”
The silence was deafening before Laura spoke again, her voice thick with panic. “Oh no, she’s in trouble because of that call!”
Johnny’s stomach dropped. “What call?”
“The one she made to me!” Laura wailed. “It was intercepted!”
The line went dead, and Johnny was left with the sinking feeling that he had just stepped into a much larger, more dangerous game. The town of Elmwood was about to wake up to a nightmare, and he had to find Janice before the killer did.
He darted back to his car, his mind racing. Who would want to silence Janice? And why was the mayor arguing with someone in the middle of the night? The questions swirled in his head as he turned the ignition, the engine roaring to life.
The clock on the dashboard read 2 AM, but sleep was the last thing on his mind. He had to find Janice before it was too late. He had a feeling that the town’s secrets were about to spill over, and he was about to be right in the middle of it all.
The tires squealed as he pulled out of the alley, the car’s headlights cutting through the darkness. He had a plan, but it was a desperate one. He’d start with Janice’s sister and hope she knew where Janice was hiding. The clock was ticking, and the game was afoot.
The streets of Elmwood were empty, the town’s innocence a facade that was about to crack wide open. Johnny knew that he was in for a wild ride, and he wasn’t going to let go of the reins until he’d uncovered the truth. The mayor’s murder was the first domino to fall, and he was about to see how far the chain reaction would go.
He arrived at Laura’s apartment, the neon sign of a nearby bar flickering eerily across the quiet street. He took the stairs two at a time, his boots echoing through the deserted hallway. He could feel the eyes of the sleeping residents on him, but he didn’t dare knock too loudly.
When Laura opened the door, her eyes were red-rimmed from crying, her face pale as a ghost. “What happened?” she sobbed, clutching at his arm.
Johnny gently guided her inside, his voice calm but firm. “I need to know everything Janice told you. Every little detail.”
Laura sniffled and nodded, her hands shaking as she recounted Janice’s frantic call. She had heard the fear in her sister’s voice, the urgent whispers of a woman who had seen too much. “She said she saw someone with the mayor, and it didn’t look friendly. Then she heard a gunshot. She said she had to go, that she’d be in touch.”
Johnny’s mind raced. A gunshot? That changed everything. “Do you know where she might have gone?”
Laura shook her head, her eyes wide with terror. “No, she didn’t say. Just that she was scared and needed help.”
He nodded, his jaw clenched. Time was of the essence. “I’ll find her,” he promised, his eyes never leaving Laura’s. “But you need to stay safe. Lock your doors, don’t answer to anyone you don’t know.”
With a nod, Laura handed him Janice’s phone, her hand trembling. “Be careful,” she whispered, as if saying it too loudly would shatter the fragile hope they both clung to.
Johnny stepped back into the night, the phone a hot coal in his hand. The air was thick with the scent of rain, the first droplets starting to fall. He dialed Janice’s number, his heart pounding with each unanswered ring.
The call went to voicemail, and he hung up, his thoughts racing. He had to think like Janice. Where would she go? What would she do? He knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t just sit and wait.
As the rain picked up, he got into his car and drove to the diner. It was Janice’s second home, a place where she felt safe. The lights were out, but he had a hunch she might be there.
When he arrived, the neon sign flickered ‘closed’, but the back door was slightly ajar. His instincts screamed at him to be cautious, but he couldn’t ignore the fear for Janice’s safety. He drew his gun and slipped inside, the bell jingling a mournful tune.
The diner was just as he remembered—booths with red vinyl seats, a counter with a gleaming chrome edge, and the faint smell of grease and coffee. But something was off. The floor was sticky with a substance that was definitely not spilled soda.
He followed the trail into the kitchen, his breath catching in his throat. There, in the back corner, was Janice, her eyes wide with fear, a gag in her mouth, and her hands tied behind her back.
“I knew you’d come,” she murmured as he approached, the relief in her eyes shattering the tension.
Johnny ripped the gag away, his heart pounding. “Who did this?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “They grabbed me as I was leaving the alley. They said they knew what I saw.”
He nodded, his mind racing. “We have to get out of here,” he said, cutting through her binds. “The cops are going to be looking for you, and we can’t let them find us here.”
Janice nodded, her eyes full of trust. Together, they slipped out the back door into the rain-soaked alley, the storm above mirroring the tempest in their hearts.
They moved quickly, sticking to the shadows, the rain a veil of anonymity. Johnny’s mind was a whirlwind of questions and theories, but he knew now was not the time for answers. First, they had to stay alive.
He led Janice to a safe house on the outskirts of town, a small cabin he kept for situations just like this. As they drove, the rain pummeled the windshield, the wipers struggling to keep up. The car’s headlights painted two yellow streaks on the wet road, illuminating their path through the storm.
Once inside, Janice collapsed onto the couch, her body trembling with a mix of fear and cold. Johnny grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders, his eyes never leaving hers. “You’re safe here,” he said, his voice a gentle reassurance in the oppressive silence.
He made a pot of hot cocoa, the scent filling the room and offering a small comfort. Janice took a sip, the warmth spreading through her as she began to tell him everything she knew about the night she saw the mayor.
“It was Mayor Hargrove and a man in a black suit,” she said, her voice shaky. “They were arguing about something, but I couldn’t hear what. Then the man pulled out a gun, and everything went quiet.”
Johnny’s expression grew grim as he listened. “Do you remember anything else about the man? His face, his voice, any identifying features?”
“He was tall, with dark hair,” she said, her brow furrowed in concentration. “But he was wearing a hat and sunglasses, even though it was night. And he had a scar, right here,” she pointed to the side of her own face, tracing an invisible line from her temple to her jaw.
The information was sparse, but it was a start. Johnny pulled out a notebook and began to scribble down everything Janice said, his mind racing with possibilities. “Okay,” he said, his voice firm. “We’re going to figure this out. But first, you need to rest.”
He showed her to a small bedroom, and she nodded, exhaustion etched into every line of her face. As he closed the door, he knew that sleep would be elusive for both of them. The clock was ticking, and every minute that passed brought them closer to the killer.
Johnny sat at the kitchen table, the rain pattering against the window like an impatient audience waiting for the next act. He pulled out his phone and made a few calls, his eyes never leaving the darkened window. The town of Elmwood was shrouded in secrets, and he was about to start peeling back the layers.
The first call was to a contact in the local PD, a detective who owed him a favor. He laid out the bare bones of the story, leaving Janice’s name out of it for now. The detective agreed to keep an ear to the ground without alerting anyone else to his involvement.
Almost Heroes 