#Spike

The Carnotaurus had a man pinned against the research vehicle's rear wheel.

Spike came through the tree line two hundred meters beyond the gate and found them in the road. The vehicle was stopped at an angle, both front doors open, one person already gone into the jungle on the far side. The Carnotaurus had the man by the midsection, the jaws closed across his waist, the animal's full weight bearing down to hold him still.

The man's arms were extended, fingers spread, pressed flat against the tarmac. His mouth was open. The sounds that came from it were not words.

The Carnotaurus shook its head once, a short efficient motion. The sounds stopped. What the shaking did to the man's midsection was immediate, the jaws closed across his waist and the force of the motion finishing what the bite had started. The upper half of him separated. It came to rest on the road three meters away, face down, arms still extended in the position they had been in when he was whole.

(A scene from spike)

I fear I may be going too far with #Spike as I am now ramping up some of the gore. I have mixed feelings on it, but, I want it to be accurate to what would be realistic I think.

(All characters are mine, and are original. This story is called SPIKE)

The dinosaurs are real.

I know how that sounds. I've said it to myself a dozen times in the two days since I took this job, and it still doesn't land right. It sits in the brain next to things that are technically true but refuse to feel that way, like the distance between stars, or how much money a billion dollars actually is. The brain nods and keeps moving.

We came through the main gate at 0800. Morning fog still sitting on the low ground. The first thing I saw clearly was a shape moving through it — something wrong in size, wrong in proportion, neck too long and too certain about where it was going. It cleared the fog line and I stopped walking.

Finn didn't.

He was ten feet ahead of me before he realized I wasn't beside him anymore. He turned back with that particular look he gets when he's calibrating how much to say, and he said nothing. He just watched me catch up.
That told me more than he would have

I'm working on a dinosaur book. Its going to be as scientifically accurate as I can reasonably get it. anyone want me to start posting snip bits in here. and or read the finished product?

Tuesday began with rain.Not dramatic rain. The low persistent grey of a morning that had decided not to commit, the kind that made the paddocks look older and the jungle on the island's edge look purposeful. Clide drove in with the wipers on their slowest setting. The rattle behind the rear seat did what it always did. His mind was already on the Voss meeting.He had forty minutes before it. He used them at his desk going through the behavioral section of the proposal, looking for every place she would find fault. He found four problems. He suspected she had found more.

Another quote from a book to think about. ​"Healing isn't about getting back to who you were before. That person is gone. It's about figuring out who you're going to be now." Interesting concept of healing,that when you do get hurt emotionally or even physically, that process of healing changes you, you aren't the same after. That applies to relationships also I guess. Anyway. If I am thinking correctly this quote is from the book He Who Fights With Monsters by Shirtaloon

Well. I got to thinking of this. ​"People like to use the word 'impossible' to describe any task that is just uncomfortably difficult. They say something can’t be done because they’re balking at the price they have to pay to get it. They don't want to admit that they could achieve their goal, but they just aren't willing to pay the cost in blood, or time, or soul. So they call it impossible to make themselves feel better about giving up." Interesting to me how much people can do if they stop complaining about the cost of what they have to do to get to there goals.