#i didn't even expect myself to pull emily wong out of my hat of tricks

[omniblades-and-stars]

Micro story. 37. Defy.

Show no mercy.

You said to show no mercy. I had an idea and I went for it. I hope this panned out like I wanted it to.

Defy

Here is what dying feels like: It feels like the rush of adrenaline as your body, hardwired to survive at all costs, fights against whatever is happening to you. It feels like the cold fist that clenches your guts into a knot because you know that it’s coming, but you don’t know what happens after the breath leaves your lungs. It sounds like the wind rushing past your ears because your heart is beating so fast, it might leap out of your chest. It smells like the burning metal and electronics and acrid smoke around you, filling up your news van as you try to escape the end of the world. It tastes like copper, the blood coating your tongue from the beating you took from nearly being blasted out of the sky. You’ve made a career out of defying what is expected of a journalist in your position. From traffic control safety violations and organized crime, you’ve taken big risks to make a difference. To make changes that matter. That’s why you were here, reporting on what was happening, so there would be a record, so that someone might look at Earth and see. “Witness the resistance to the unimaginable destruction that is coming, don’t turn your eyes away from the truth,” you beg. You’re not sure this choice, the one you make with trembling breath and tears stinging at your eyes, will matter. You’re scared, whatever god you do or do not believe in knows you’re scared, but you’ve made up your mind. You will stand defiant in the face of imminent destruction. You don’t have a gun, you are not a soldier. The only weapons you have are your voice and the van that may or may not still be broadcasting. You squeeze your eyes shut and think, ‘Please, let this mean something.’ You take control of the van and steer it towards the ship that’s bigger than the buildings around it. You know that this isn’t going to stop the behemoth, but that’s not really what this about. “You want to see how a human dies? At ramming speed!” You are signing off from your final broadcast. Death is fiery, it is painful, but it did mean something. Someone somewhere heard your sacrifice. Someone somewhere will play your voice as a rallying cry for the resistance. Goodnight, and godspeed, Emily Wong.