The Space Station's Scream: Alone in the Void
The Space Station's Scream: Alone in the Void
The endless blackness of space stretched infinitely beyond the viewing window. Commander Alex Carter adjusted his helmet, the artificial lights of the space station flickering ominously. He was alone—or at least, he was supposed to be.
The International Deep Space Research Station, once bustling with scientists and engineers, now floated as a hollow shell in orbit around a distant moon. A distress signal had been sent weeks ago, but by the time Alex arrived, the crew had vanished. Only eerie silence and the occasional malfunctioning system greeted him.
"Mission Log: Day 1. No signs of life. Systems unstable. Investigating further."
As he moved through the dimly lit corridors, his boots clanked against the metallic floor. The sound echoed unnaturally, making the emptiness feel more oppressive. Then, a sudden noise—a whisper?—made him freeze.
"Is someone there?" he called out.
Silence.
Shaking off the unease, Alex continued to the command center. He activated the main console, scanning the logs. The last recorded entry from Dr. Evelyn Hayes read:
"We are not alone. Something is here. It knows we're watching."
A chill ran down his spine. The security footage was corrupted, filled with static and fragments of distorted images. But through the interference, Alex caught glimpses of something—shadowy movements in the station, figures that shouldn’t be there.
Then, the scream came.
A piercing, guttural wail echoed through the station, rattling the metal walls. Alex’s breath caught in his throat.
"Who’s there?!" he demanded, spinning around, weapon drawn.
No response. But the lights flickered violently, and the temperature plummeted. His visor fogged up, and his heartbeat thundered in his ears.
Then, movement—a fleeting shadow darted past the doorway.
Summoning his courage, Alex pursued the presence down the corridor. He turned a corner sharply, stepping into the med bay. The air was thick with tension. A single examination chair stood in the center, straps hanging loosely.
Then he saw it.
A message, scrawled in blood across the wall: "DON’T LISTEN TO THE WHISPERS."
His stomach lurched. Something had gone terribly wrong here. The crew hadn’t just vanished—they had been taken. But by what?
The scream came again, this time closer.
Panic surged through him as the station groaned, metal bending as if something enormous was pressing against it. His suit’s sensors blared warnings—oxygen levels fluctuating, gravitational stability failing.
"Focus, Alex. Think," he muttered to himself.
Then, a soft whisper slithered through his comms.
"Leave... before it takes you too..."
His blood ran cold. The voice was unmistakable—Dr. Hayes.
But she was gone.
A warning alarm blared. Something was overriding the station’s systems, forcing an emergency lockdown. Alex had no choice. He sprinted toward the escape pod bay, his mind racing.
As he reached the airlock, he caught a final glimpse of the horror that lurked in the station’s shadows.
It was tall, impossibly thin, its body shifting like liquid darkness. It had no face, only a gaping maw that seemed to consume light itself.
"No—" Alex gasped, slamming the airlock controls.
The pod ejected into space, the force slamming him against his seat. Through the viewport, he watched as the station—once his mission—became a prison to whatever entity lurked within.
As he drifted away, the comms crackled one last time.
"We are never alone..."
Then, silence.
Alex breathed heavily, staring into the void. The mission had changed. Now, he had to make sure no one ever came back.
Mission Log: Final Entry. The station is lost. The horror remains. This is my warning.
Days passed in the emptiness of space. Alex remained adrift, waiting for a rescue signal that might never come. Supplies were limited, and the deep void around him felt increasingly oppressive. But worst of all, the whispers had followed him.
At first, they were faint. Just barely audible through his radio. Then they grew louder, forming fragmented words and phrases. Sometimes, he heard his own name. Other times, he heard things he couldn't understand—guttural, inhuman murmurs.
Then, the hallucinations began.
Shadows flickered in the corners of his vision. Faces of his lost crewmates appeared on his pod’s reflection, mouths agape as if screaming. He tried to convince himself it was just the effects of isolation and dwindling oxygen. But deep inside, he knew better.
The entity had latched onto him.
"You can’t escape," the whispers taunted.
With trembling hands, Alex activated his emergency distress beacon. It was a gamble—if the wrong people heard his signal, they might send another crew to the station. He couldn’t let that happen. He had to warn them.
"This is Commander Alex Carter, last survivor of the Deep Space Research Station. Do not approach. The station is compromised. Something is there."
The radio crackled. A voice responded.
"Commander Carter, we read you. Hold tight, rescue is on the way."
Relief flooded through him—until he heard the whisper again, right next to his ear.
"They are coming for you, Alex. But they won’t be alone."
The transmission cut to static.
Alex’s blood ran cold. His eyes widened in terror as he realized the horrifying truth.
It had already spread.
And soon, it would no longer be confined to the void.
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