With NaNoWriMo in full swing and me woefully behind (not unusual), these shorts and the occasional rant are all I can manage.
Another snapshot scene here. I like the idea of theism in space – you rarely see it done well.
They labeled her a messiah, but they could not understand why she screamed in terror as they approached the surface of the fireball planet of Tjordin.
Her faithful priests methodically removed her protective spacesuit, down to her thermals as she thrashed, clawed, and bit at them. Several of the priests were injured in the process, and collapsed in religious ecstasy, clasping their jagged wounds like stigmata – a wicked scratch from a nail here, a jagged tear from teeth there. There were plenty of priests to take their place. The entire starliner was full of them, all waiting for an opportunity to witness their messianic woman-goddess perform another miracle.
Naked, she was cast into the airlock.
As the starliner landed on the surface of the vicious planet, she stopped her screaming. Using blood from a cut on her arm (or was it the blood of one of the priests?), she wrote on the porthole, where her followers could see: YOU ARE WRONG
The pressure killed her first, crushing her frail body to pulp. Then, what was left of her burst into flames.