In a dark, forgotten corner of this cold, hard city, there exists a place where

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In a dark, forgotten corner of this cold, hard city, there exists a place where the night never seems to end. The shadows dance with an eerie grace, as if holding tight to the secrets that lie within. This is a place where the light of hope dares not tread, where despair clings to the walls like the wailing of lost souls. Amidst the cold silence, a small voice echoes softly. It's a desperate plea, barely heard over the relentless rain that pounds the pavement. "Help me," the voice whispers. "Please... help me." The words are but a mere shadow of the torment that lies beneath, the unspoken agony of a suffering beyond comprehension. In this forgotten realm, the blood of the innocent cries out in torment. Their cries pierce the night sky, tearing through the fabric of time and space. It is a heart-wrenching symphony of pain and fear, a testament to the failure of a society that has turned a blind eye. A child's blood—a sacred gift of life—now weeps in despair. It carries the echoes of a shattered innocence, of dreams destroyed before they could even take flight. The blood that once flowed with the joy and laughter of youth now cries out in a desperate plea for salvation. Each drop that falls to the ground is a testament to the unbearable suffering endured by the most vulnerable among us. It is a stain upon the conscience of humanity, a stark reminder of the darkness that lurks within the hearts of men. In this dark corner of the city, the blood of the children continues to cry out, their voices a haunting melody of anguish that resonates long after the final note has been sung. It is a chilling reminder of the price we pay for our indifference and a call to action for those who would dare to defy the darkness. For in the end, it is the silence of the good that allows evil to triumph.

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Mikal Clark

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In a dark , forgotten corner of this cold , hard city , there exists a place where the night never seems to end . The shadows dance with an eerie grace , as if holding tight to the secrets that lie within . This is a place where the light of hope dares not tread , where despair clings to the walls like the wailing of lost souls . Amidst the cold silence , a small voice echoes softly . It's a desperate plea , barely heard over the relentless rain that pounds the pavement . "Help me , " the voice whispers . "Please ... help me . " The words are but a mere shadow of the torment that lies beneath , the unspoken agony of a suffering beyond comprehension . In this forgotten realm , the blood of the innocent cries out in torment . Their cries pierce the night sky , tearing through the fabric of time and space . It is a heart-wrenching symphony of pain and fear , a testament to the failure of a society that has turned a blind eye . A child's blood—a sacred gift of life—now weeps in despair . It carries the echoes of a shattered innocence , of dreams destroyed before they could even take flight . The blood that once flowed with the joy and laughter of youth now cries out in a desperate plea for salvation . Each drop that falls to the ground is a testament to the unbearable suffering endured by the most vulnerable among us . It is a stain upon the conscience of humanity , a stark reminder of the darkness that lurks within the hearts of men . In this dark corner of the city , the blood of the children continues to cry out , their voices a haunting melody of anguish that resonates long after the final note has been sung . It is a chilling reminder of the price we pay for our indifference and a call to action for those who would dare to defy the darkness . For in the end , it is the silence of the good that allows evil to triumph .

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In a dark, forgotten corner of this cold, hard city, there exists a place where the night never seems to end. The shadows dance with an eerie grace, as if holding tight to the secrets that lie within. This is a place where the light of hope dares not tread, where despair clings to the walls like the wailing of lost souls. Amidst the cold silence, a small voice echoes softly. It's a desperate plea, barely heard over the relentless rain that pounds the pavement. "Help me," the voice whispers. "Please... help me." The words are but a mere shadow of the torment that lies beneath, the unspoken agony of a suffering beyond comprehension. In this forgotten realm, the blood of the innocent cries out in torment. Their cries pierce the night sky, tearing through the fabric of time and space. It is a heart-wrenching symphony of pain and fear, a testament to the failure of a society that has turned a blind eye. A child's blood—a sacred gift of life—now weeps in despair. It carries the echoes of a shattered innocence, of dreams destroyed before they could even take flight. The blood that once flowed with the joy and laughter of youth now cries out in a desperate plea for salvation. Each drop that falls to the ground is a testament to the unbearable suffering endured by the most vulnerable among us. It is a stain upon the conscience of humanity, a stark reminder of the darkness that lurks within the hearts of men. In this dark corner of the city, the blood of the children continues to cry out, their voices a haunting melody of anguish that resonates long after the final note has been sung. It is a chilling reminder of the price we pay for our indifference and a call to action for those who would dare to defy the darkness. For in the end, it is the silence of the good that allows evil to triumph.

Negative Prompts

verybadimagenegative_v1.3, ng_deepnegative_v1_75t, (ugly face:0.8),cross-eyed,sketches, (worst quality:2), (low quality:2), (normal quality:2), lowres, normal quality, ((monochrome)), ((grayscale)), skin spots, acnes, skin blemishes, bad anatomy, DeepNegative, facing away, tilted head, {Multiple people}, lowres, bad anatomy, bad hands, text, error, missing fingers, extra digit, fewer digits, cropped, worstquality, low quality, normal quality, jpegartifacts, signature, watermark, username, blurry, bad feet, cropped, poorly drawn hands, poorly drawn face, mutation, deformed, worst quality, low quality, normal quality, jpeg artifacts, signature, watermark, extra fingers, fewer digits, extra limbs, extra arms,extra legs, malformed limbs, fused fingers, too many fingers, long neck, cross-eyed,mutated hands, polar lowres, bad body, bad proportions, gross proportions, text, error, missing fingers, missing arms, missing legs, extra digit, extra arms, extra leg, extra foot, ((repeating hair))

CFG-Scale

7

Schritte

20

Sammler

DPM++ 2M Karras

Seed

2557819807

Clip Skip

1

Bildgröße

768 X 768

Modell

epiCRealism

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Größe

768X768

Datum

May 22, 2024

Modell

Standard

Typ

upscale

Checkpoint & LoRA

Checkpoint

epiCRealism

#Horror

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