Xochitl Gomez Deepfake Novels & Stories

“They are not photographs of me. I have never been involved with the person being used in them and I am not going to sit here and build her a bigger stage by naming her.” He blinked and then recovered. “So you’re saying this is a deepfake?” “I’m saying it is fabricated and legal is on it and I am not taking questions that turn a crime scene into a panel.” “Some people online feel the pictures look very convincing.” “People online also thought I asked someone to get an abortion with an AI voice. I am leaving before we do that dance again.” I stood. Maya was already moving. The host tried one more sentence about responsibility and public image and I was in the corridor before he found the end

Tall, slow and wrapped in shadows. Leo leaned closer. His breath caught in his throat. “No,” he whispered. “That’s not…” The figure stepped forward. Alive. Walking. Smiling like the devil. Don Emilio. Leo stumbled back like he’d been shot. “This… this is fake,” he said. “It’s CGI. Deepfake. Some trick…” But then the old man spoke on screen. “Hello, my son.” Alina didn’t blink. Leo looked at her. “You knew?” She shook her head, jaw clenched. “I suspected. But seeing it…”

“Damien, that’s Sophia. That has to be some kind of manipulation, a deepfake, something Victor created to turn us against each other.” I studied the footage more carefully, replaying it twice, searching desperately for any sign of manipulation, any inconsistency that might confirm Isabella’s hope. But the footage looked disturbingly authentic, the lighting, the movement, even Sophia’s familiar mannerisms captured with unsettling precision. “I need Gabriel to verify this immediately,” I said, already dialing. Gabriel arrived within the hour, his own expression grim as he examined the footage on his laptop, running it through several verification programs while Isabella paced anxiously behind

"A recent viral video made by one Mr. Damian ‘Dragon’ Cruz has exposed a malicious campaign orchestrated by himself and Ms. Sherry. Their aim was simple: to ruin the image of Chloe Jones — my wife, and the rightful Managing Director of this company." I took a breath, locking eyes with a few cameras. "They tampered with her vehicle, breached the kids' school security as they sent veiled threats through her children. They spread fabricated media using deep fakes. And they tried to destroy her career, her motherhood, and her name — just the way they aborted her pregnancies a couple of years back, attempting homicide." Flashes went wild. "They did win once, but now, they failed." I looked at the

It might have been a hoax, so we better focus on someone else right now. It was now David's turn to speak, as he put out an image of a woman from his paper. It looked like he had carefully done his research since there were even maps in his folder. "What do you mean by that?" Carlo asked. "This is Katherine Cruz, a Filipina who is the lead forensic pathologist behind the supposed autopsy of the late deceased Peterson Gomez," he started. "Esta mujer desapareció a lo largo del tiempo de nuestra infiltración en el escondite del gobierno," [This woman disappeared during our infiltration of the government's hideout.] he added, pointing out the next piece of paper in his hand.

And the woman at the center of it all – the one with blood on her hands, rage in her voice, and apocalyptic words on her lips – was her. Or rather, a version of her that Luca had created. Deepfake Elena. The weaponized shadow of her identity. Damien finally broke the silence. “The tech is ahead of anything we’ve seen. Victor says even biometric markers are being spoofed. Voice, gait, retinal movement. They’ve built a ghost in your image.” Elena's voice was low, bitter. “They didn’t need much. Just a villain-shaped silhouette. The world was already looking for someone to blame. Luca handed them my face and lit the match.”

Fiona was trembling like a leaf, making her look like a pathetic mess. "Officers, these two women are suspected of having engaged in embezzlement, commercial fraud, and… extortion." I pulled up some of the evidence I'd compiled and stored on the hard drive, including chat logs and bank transfer records. Jonathan finally saw the whole picture, and his expression turned dark. "I'm the company's legal representative. I will fully cooperate with the investigation. The company's IT department has also found evidence that the video was made with deepfake technology." All of a sudden, Sasha lunged at me, looking positively feral. She tried to claw at me, shrieking, "It was you! You old hag! You pla

The short humorless kind that meant he found something more offensive than funny. I wasn't smiling. He noticed that and stopped. "You're serious," he said. "I'm always serious before eight in the morning." "Xena." He pulled his other earphone out fully and tucked them into his pocket. "You kidnapped my fiancée. There's video evidence. The entire city—" "The video was fabricated." "The video—" "Was fabricated Adrian." I said it slowly like the pace would help. "Deepfake. AI generated. Your team commissioned it from a production company and I have the metadata to prove it."

I immediately grabbed the officiant's microphone and shouted, "This video's fake! Everyone, don't believe it! This is an AI-generated deepfake video! I trust Isaac, and he would never do anything to betray me! This is fake!" Then, I said to Isaac, "Call the police right now! Whoever did this needs to be arrested immediately!"

His sickening amusement dripped right through the phone, making the hairs on my skin crawl. "Interesting accusation." "Accusation? I know it was you." My voice shook a little against my will, but I pushed through the fear. Silence stretched for a painful beat. Then came another laugh from him, calm, relaxed, and casual, like we were just chatting about the weather. "You’re gonna have to be more specific, Valentina," he purred. "What did I do now?" "The fire." "What fire?" "The video." "What video?" I nearly screamed, a hot wave of rage blinding me. My free hand balled into a tight fist at my side. "The deepfake, Harold! The one that makes it look like I..."