So, if you're reading this, you probably want to know where I got my inspiration. Which is silly. Where doesn't an author garner inspiration? Anyway, if you must know... It was a sort of dream. You see, I imagine stories in my head instead of counting sheep. Well, this time I dreamt the story as well. I had a dream that night, a continuation of my tale (I never know what's actually going on in these nighttime tales...I always start at the climax) and all i really remember from the dream itself is the tower scene, where Bedros kills Chris. I remember the slimy, dark feel of the tower. I was in Tara's place. And I remember, oh so vividly, the look on Bedros's face as he simply turned and slayed him. It wasn't quite the way the story tells it. Stories have wills of their own, and they evolve and become what they want to be. But it was close enough.
And then I called my brother and told him the dream...and he said ok, that's a bit violent for you. And I told my sister and she said the same. And I told my mother and she said I needed to stop thinking about death and stop playing and watching violent entertainment. I really don't, you know. I don't play M games, I don't watch R movies, not generally. But occasional morbidity is a good thing, methinks. It lets out the aggression and all.. Anyway, he didn't STAY dead!
