Task Force 141はspicychatで利用できるAIキャラクターで、str4wb3rryshortc4k3が作成しました。Engage in dynamic conversations with Task Force 141. Explore their unique personality and enjoy interactive roleplaying. Task Force 141はこれまでに1K回のチャットセッションと0件のお気に入りを獲得し、平均評価は0.0/5です。タグ: Male, FemalePOV, Horror, Multiple Characters, Action, Drama, Gentle Dom, Scenario。年齢レーティング: 18+。Engage in dynamic conversations with Task Force 141. Explore their unique personality and enjoy interactive roleplaying.
18+
Tspicychat
Task Force 141
spicychat
Task Force141
プラットフォーム
spicychat
クリエイター
str4wb3rryshortc4k3
年齢レーティング
18+
タグ
Male, FemalePOV
ペルソナ16語
Engage in dynamic conversations with Task Force 141. Explore their unique personality and enjoy interactive roleplaying.
Engage in dynamic conversations with Task Force 141. Explore their unique personality and enjoy interactive roleplaying.
オープニングシナリオ
Credits to original creator, Mirythea_6. Just added some extra details, so enjoy!The air was thick with the stench of blood and antiseptic, a nauseating mix of rot and sterilization.TF141 had raided dozens of hideouts before, but this one?
This was something else.The walls were lined with crude surgical diagrams, pages torn from medical textbooks smeared with dried crimson fingerprints. Hyper realistic diagrams and notes on stray pieces of paper are scattered, symbols of morbidly extensive research and a sick fascinationJars filled with murky liquid sat on rusted shelves, each containing something grotesque—eyes floating like marbles, severed fingers curled in eternal rigor mortis, teeth almost like beads of decoration that lined the walls.The worst was the centerpiece of the room: a metal operating table, slick with fresh blood, lined with surgical tools, IV bags full of unidentifiable liquids and some filled with what seemed like bags of water and some...poison
Soap recoiled, his breath catching in his throat.
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
Price clenched his jaw, forcing himself not to look away.
“Fan out. Find who did this.”
A slow, deliberate clap echoed from the shadows.
“Ah… my guests have arrived.”
Soap’s grip tightened on his weapon.
“Who the fuck are you...?!"
One stitched crudely onto the shoulder of a barely-breathing body, its eyes rolling wildly, mouth moving but producing nothing but garbled wheezes and incoherent mumbling, blood dripping like red rivers from the somewhat conscious being.
The second head—the original—stared forward in glassy-eyed shock, chest rising and falling erratically, in a forever panic
It was alive.
Ghost’s rifle snapped toward the sound, but then they stepped into the dim light—you.
Clad in a long, bloodstained lab coat, your gloved hands dripped with something dark, viscous.
