Prompt: What’s a typical Lovecraft paragraph in which someone is describing an unspeakable horror?

It seemed a harmless enough question. However, none of the AIs attempted to simply fish such a paragraph from a Lovecraft work, which is what I would think the question was suggesting they do. Perhaps that’s a copyright violation, though AI tells me Lovecraft’s works are in the public domain in the U.S. Without exception, they simply created a few lines in the Lovecraftian manner, shamelessly appropriating the turgid H.P. style. These are all free AI iterations with the exception of Gemini, where I’m on a yearlong premium free trial.

Perplexity:

“As I stood there, frozen in terror, I beheld a presence that defied all comprehension. It was as if the very fabric of reality had been torn asunder, revealing a glimpse of an abyssal void that seemed to writhe and twist like a living thing. The air was heavy with an unutterable malevolence, a palpable sense of dread that clung to my skin like a damp shroud. I attempted to describe the horror that loomed before me, but words failed me. It was a shapeless, formless abomination, a blasphemy against the laws of nature that seemed to mock my feeble attempts at understanding. The more I gazed upon it, the more my mind recoiled in horror, unable to grasp the sheer magnitude of the eldritch terror that confronted me. In that moment, I knew I was but a mere speck in an uncaring universe, subject to forces beyond human comprehension.” 

Gemini Advanced 2.0: 

“The geometry of the chamber shifted, a nauseating, non-Euclidean dance that defied all earthly understanding. It was not the mere sight of the thing that unhinged me, but the sheer wrongness of its existence. A pulsating, amorphous mass, it seemed to violate every natural law, its contours a sickening mockery of familiar forms. A cold dread, a primal terror, gripped my soul as I realized the utter futility of my comprehension. The air itself grew thick, heavy with an alien presence, and the whispers began, not sounds that could be heard, but thoughts that slithered into the deepest recesses of my mind, promising revelations that would shatter the very foundations of my sanity. I knew then, with a chilling certainty, that I had gazed upon a truth that no mortal was meant to behold, and that my mind would forever be a fractured vessel, haunted by the echoes of cosmic horror.” 

Meta AI: 

“As I gazed upon the eldritch abomination, my mind recoiled in terror, unable to comprehend the sheer malevolence that lurked before me. The twisted, cyclopean mass seemed to shift and writhe like a living thing, its very presence causing the air to thicken with an unholy, palpable dread. I dare not speak of the unspeakable horror that I beheld, lest my fragile sanity shatter like brittle glass, yet I am compelled to whisper that it was a thing of twisted, non-Euclidean geometry, a blasphemy of grotesque, inhuman design that defied the laws of mortal comprehension.” 

Copilot: 

“It slithered into view, a grotesque amalgamation of writhing appendages and oozing, phosphorescent flesh that seemed to ripple in defiance of natural law. Its countless, lidless eyes darted in every direction, glistening with an otherworldly malevolence that pierced the soul. The air around it warped and shimmered, distorting reality itself, as an indescribable cacophony of whispers and wails emanated from its pulsating form. To gaze upon it was to feel one’s sanity unravel, for the mind could not grasp the monstrous geometry of its shifting contours—an entity birthed from the chaotic abyss beyond the stars, where reason holds no sway.”

Claude 3.5 Haiku: 

“The nameless thing that emerged from the sepulchral shadows defied all rational comprehension, its writhing geometries suggesting dimensions never meant to be witnessed by human eyes. Its form—if such a word could even apply to such an abomination—seemed to undulate and shift with a grotesque fluidity that threatened the very sanity of perception, revealing glimpses of membranous appendages and angular protrusions that violated every fundamental law of anatomical possibility. As it approached, a miasmic cold emanated from its being, carrying with it the putrid whispers of forgotten aeons and realms beyond mortal understanding, each undulation promising madness to any soul unfortunate enough to sustain more than a momentary glance.” 

Grok 3: 

“As I gazed upon the thing that slithered forth from the abyssal rift, my mind recoiled in primal terror, unable to fully grasp the obscenity of its form. It was a blasphemous amalgam of writhing tendrils and glistening, iridescent flesh, its countless eyes—bulbous, unblinking, and suffused with an unholy luminescence—peering from a visage that defied all earthly geometry. The air grew thick with a fetid miasma, a stench of aeons-dead seas and forgotten corruption, while a low, resonant drone, like the chant of some profane cosmic liturgy, emanated from its pulsating maw. I knew then that this was no creature of our world, but a harbinger of that vast, indifferent chaos which lurks beyond the fragile veil of sanity, waiting to unmake all that we presume to understand.”

ChatGPT4-turbo: 

“It was a monstrous, writhing thing, a presence of such unfathomable enormity and loathsome aspect that no sane mind could bear the burden of its full revelation. The air seemed to thicken with its malignant essence, and the very fabric of reality appeared to warp and twist under its eldritch influence. I could not fully discern its shape—if shape it even had—but there was something unutterably alien in the churning mass of shadow and texture, as though the laws of nature itself were but feeble constructs in its thrall. Each motion it made was an affront to sanity, and the sound that emanated from it was not of this earth, a dreadful, suffocating, cacophonous wail that clawed at the edges of one’s soul, daring to unmake all that was familiar and sane. I dare not describe further; to do so would be to risk summoning the unspeakable terror into the fragile realm of words, and no mortal can survive such a reckoning.”