A horror fine tune using in house horror dataset, tuned via Unsloth.
Horror. Madness. Swearing. Gore.
Model will generate Mild to Medium levels of horror.
ONE EXAMPLE BELOW...
REQUIRES: Rep pen at 1.1 min ;
This model is limited by its size and may repeat paragraphs/words from time to time - especially quants 5 bits or lower.
SETTING:
CHANGE THE NUMBER OF ACTIVE EXPERTS:
See this document:
https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/How-To-Set-and-Manage-MOE-Mix-of-Experts-Model-Activation-of-Experts
Settings: CHAT / ROLEPLAY and/or SMOOTHER operation of this model:
In "KoboldCpp" or "oobabooga/text-generation-webui" or "Silly Tavern" ;
Set the "Smoothing_factor" to 1.5
: in KoboldCpp -> Settings->Samplers->Advanced-> "Smooth_F"
: in text-generation-webui -> parameters -> lower right.
: In Silly Tavern this is called: "Smoothing"
NOTE: For "text-generation-webui"
-> if using GGUFs you need to use "llama_HF" (which involves downloading some config files from the SOURCE version of this model)
Source versions (and config files) of my models are here:
OTHER OPTIONS:
Increase rep pen to 1.1 to 1.15 (you don't need to do this if you use "smoothing_factor")
If the interface/program you are using to run AI MODELS supports "Quadratic Sampling" ("smoothing") just make the adjustment as noted.
Highest Quality Settings / Optimal Operation Guide / Parameters and Samplers
This a "Class 1" model:
For all settings used for this model (including specifics for its "class"), including example generation(s) and for advanced settings guide (which many times addresses any model issue(s)), including methods to improve model performance for all use case(s) as well as chat, roleplay and other use case(s) please see:
You can see all parameters used for generation, in addition to advanced parameters and samplers to get the most out of this model here:
Examples ; q4ks
Low level quant, higher quants / imatrix quants will be stronger.
EXAMPLE #1 [ temp=.7 ]
Tell me a horror story.The old man’s voice cut through the suffocating silence like a scalpel. "You're not alone here, son." His eyes bore into mine as if I might recognize the milky whites behind them. But they weren't mine either.
I flinched, my knuckles white on the cold marble floor. "Who told you?" My voice cracked. "I didn't—" His countenance hardened. The mask of someone who'd been there before me twisted until it was bone-deadly clear: He saw what others could not.
"Someone," he hissed. "I've seen them."
The nameless specters that clung like shivering ghosts to the walls? They weren't here now. But they were always.
I staggered forward, each step shuffling my own shadow against the cold stone. As I approached the center of the gallery, I spotted something glinting beneath a chipped marble pedestal. A silver key, its surface etched with intricate patterns that pulsed like a heartbeat.
My blood froze.
"Mr. Jackson?" I managed to whisper before gasping for air.
His eyes met mine, pools of cold obsidian. "Yes?"
A guttural growl rumbled from somewhere deep within his chest. He reached out with bony fingers, each digit tipped with calloused skin the color of ashed bone. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the cold metal until its surface trembled beneath my touch.
"Open it."
I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself against the sickening weight of what I was about to do. "Please…"
His voice quivered at the edge of breaking. "I'll—"
"Please," I pressed, my voice cracking into something raw and broken. "Just—"
A shudder wracked his entire frame as he recoiled. The key's cold surface radiated an electric repulsion that made every muscle in my own body convulse.
"Open it."
He hesitated, then obeyed, his eyes locking onto mine like a predator's on its prey. As the cool metal bit into my palm, I felt something snap beneath the skin—something hard and bone-sharp.
A jarring crack split through the silence like shattering glass. The sound wasn't just mine anymore. It belonged to him.
And me.
As the key turned inside its grooved casing, releasing a guttural groan that seemed to emanate from every cell within me, I realized what had become of this place.
We were never truly alone here.
The gallery was never mine alone. And you? You were never mine either.
I staggered backward into the darkness, each step shattering glass beneath my bare feet. The cold metal key clutched in my trembling fingers felt like ice laced with blood and bone. As I reached for it again, a sickening realization seared its place upon my mind: This cursed object held the key not to unlock doors or windows, but to open a hellish door into an unseen realm where souls were eternally bound to one another in unspeakable agony.
And now, I had been forced to step forward into its waiting embrace.
