Only the bones of the dead remember.

Today in chapter eleven, I killed. Fourteen hundred Ogin, plus or minus a few. There was nothing pleasant or enjoyable about it. It was war. And in wars, people, aliens, creatures die.

They died horrifically. Bravery was absent, indeed they did not have enough time to shit themselves. But as we can see micro expressions up to about 1/26 of a second, they had time. Time to suffer the oncoming death. Time to feel themselves burning in a fire hotter than our sun. The furnace of fusion engines. Some were worse than others. The ones that did not die in less than a second. The ones that encountered massive heat combined with radiation levels that cooked them internally, before the heat could destroyed their bodies.

It was painful and gruesome. I did not enjoy it. I didn’t really enjoy seeing the last of that group of Ogin die. Will it wake me in the night, disturbing my sleep? That happens on a typical night anyway. Perhaps it will be worse, but I doubt it. If I could capture my dreams and show them as videos, the movie industry would be closed permanently.

Image by Robert Day

It’s weird how painful writing some of these scenes are. You get to live through the horror that these characters experience. I sat imagining what those last micro expression moments might have been like, and how my brain might have responded.

When it was over, by the three-horned gods, I was glad!

I love writing, the act of creation in the highest order. We are made from exploded stars. So I work at writing something worthy of it.

As a side note, I marked off going over sixty thousand words today. Only another hundred and forty thousand to go on Mongruxx: Starship Umbra!

I will enjoy every gods damned minute of it!

Have a good evening or a good morning, where ever you find yourself.


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