At least for another 24 hours. Wrote a scene with the Wild Hunt. Another with Lucia and Number 37. It's still not a horror story, but Lucia ended the day today in tears. In the apocalypse, everyone's an elf, in a sense. The cool universe you thought you had is gone. You're doomed as a race and have no future. All the wonderful things you once discovered are fading away and turned to lies. The world that's left will be a miserable place with no magic. You're only a fairy tale told by rabbits, as Schmendrick said once.
Geez, my novel sucks. Also being influenced by choppy Gu Long style (trying to read "Sentimental Swordsman, Ruthless Sword" right now. In Chinese. Sometimes I cheat and look at the translation - heh, funny to see where the translator censored bits.) Gah!