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Horror Science Fiction Suspense

This story contains themes or mentions of physical violence, gore, or abuse.

Prepare to enter hyperspeed.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

My heart races faster and faster as the computer completes its final calculations.

Countdown.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

Hyperspeed activated.

Between one breath and the next, I am travelling faster than the speed of light. I can’t help the yell of pure exhilaration as I shoot by stars and planets.

This is the furthest anyone has been into this sector - I’m off the known map of the galaxy, so many years from home. 

Hyperspeed deactivated - you have reached your destination.

“We’re here, we actually made it.” I sit back and sigh in relief, staring out at the sea of endless stars around me.

They called me a fool for trying to get out this far, but here I am.

“EVA, status report.” 

All systems nominal - scanning exterior. Area clear. Sector unknown. Rechart route, Commander?

“No, cancel the reroute. I want to explore.”

Is this…wise?

I frown at the computer screen in front of me. 

“Where’s your sense of adventure, EVA? The Voyager has gone beyond the boundaries of known space. I’ve waited years for this. We might be able to find a place to call home again.”

Might I suggest sending your current coordinates back to the Space Port?

“Fine, if you have to.” 

I take the controls and direct us towards a galaxy system, flicking on my eye scanners to record the entire experience. I float between dust and atoms, the light of a million stars, already fading from where I watched them as a child.

This is similar to the system near your home planet.

“I know.” I glance down at the hologram beside the controls, a memory captured of me and Dad before…everything.

You couldn’t save them all, Commander.

I push my melancholy away and turn the Voyager towards the twin suns.

“Tell me about those.”

They are more than capable of sustaining life for millions of years if the planets are hospitable. You could be the founder of an entirely new system.

“You’re right, take some scans of any planets in the quadrant. We might be able to land on one and explore.”

Company guidelines state that I cannot allow you to land the Voyager on any planet. You must have Level 5 clearance and above.

“Ever the stickler for rules, eh?” 

The rules are designed for the preservation of human life, even yours. There is no reason to put your life at risk just because you feel-

“Start the scan, EVA.”

I think talking about this could be beneficial for your recovery, Commander-

“I gave you a direct order, EVA.”

Starting scan.

I sit back in the seat and stare up into the endless space, 

“And don’t call me Commander..”

Your rank and title-

“Is no longer valid. Do the scan.”

I begin whistling a song my father used to tell me about, an old Earth song about sending something out of space.

It is here, out in the endless void, that I feel my father’s absence more than ever.

Scan complete. There are three inhabitable planets in this quadrant.

Three? You’re sure?”

Positive, Commander. Two are out of the Voyager’s range with our current power capacity, one will take several hours to reach, even with several hyperspace jumps at hour intervals. It will make returning to the Space Port difficult. We may require a rescue from the nearest inhabited solar system on our return.

“Can we go closer? To get a better scan to report back?”

I see no danger in this as long as we report back to the Port before each jump and finish within six hours.

“Good, set the estimated coordinates and begin making a log for the journey.”

Confirmed. Estimates set. Log recording.

“Begin jump in-” I pause. There’s something behind a meteor.

Something impossible.

“EVA, it’s a starship. Scan to confirm.”

Scan complete. Confirmed starship - Callsign HAL-2315. It is setting off a distress beacon.

“How did it even get out here? Let me hear the message.”

An unearthly sound comes over the intercom, unbearably high-pitched.

“EVA, TURN IT OFF!”

My apologies, Commander. Allow me to try and break down the noise.

My mind is racing - there is no way a ship could be all the way out here. 

Commander, I have reduced the noise. Shall I play the message again?

“Yes.”

As the noise pours through the intercom, the hairs on the back of my arms begin to rise.

“Help…something….evacuation….away…crew…save…”

It cuts off abruptly.

“Is that all? When was it sent?”

Yes, it was sent out 30 days ago.

“Have you heard of that ship? The HAL-2315?”

I have never heard of a ship with that name, Commander.

My jaw drops.

“You have a database of every known ship in existence, there’s no way you don’t…”

We need to leave the quadrant.

“What? EVA, we’re looking at a ship in an uncharted quadrant of space with a 30-day distress beacon. We need to call in security and get help for anyone on that ship if they’re still alive.”

I am starting a hyperjump back to Space Port immediately.

“EVA, what-”

A shadow falls over my window, the light from the twin suns immediately extinguished.

 I look up, the ship is looming directly in front of me. The name leaps out at me - HAL-2315.

“EVA, how did it get here so fast?” I whisper, feeling my fear grow. Something is wrong with that ship. Every instinct in me is screaming to run.

No reply.

I look down at the screen. Six hours have passed.

“EVA? EVA, respond!”

Nothing. Dead silence.

“Impossible. The emergency system should have kicked in.” 

I begin flicking buttons desperately, but it’s no use.

“EVA! Damn it, answer me!”

I begin the emergency battery procedure, hoping there is enough power to jump back to a known quadrant and send out a distress signal.

A voice rings out from the other ship over the intercom,

Ship in orbit. Preparing to dock. Gravitational pull, activated. Please clear the area.

 “No. Abort.”

The controls refuse to obey as I try and set a course for anywhere but the ship in front of me. I don’t know what the hell is going on right now, but I know one thing for certain.

Something is terribly wrong here.

The Voyager attaches to the other ship and loses all emergency power, including life support systems. 

Welcome to HAL-2315.

A door opens to the immediate left.

I shout in surprise, but there’s no one there. It must be an automatic system.

Every instinct tells me not to board that ship…but what choice do I have? If I stay here, I’ll surely die.

I find my plugsuit and attach a communications bracelet; even if EVA isn’t active, I can only hope it will continue the log or patch my coordinates through.

As I step inside the starship, my hand lowers to the mandatory issue space gun.

The door closes with a resounding hiss, sealing me inside.

The corridors are far below zero, making me grateful for the heated system inside the plugsuit. Only the emergency lights are still active, and even those are flickering. This ship has been out of power for far longer than 30 days.

Did it lose time too?

My footsteps echo off the walls as I try to find some sign of life. I daren’t call out - this is the most afraid I have ever felt.

I walk for what feels like hours until I see a map of the ship beside a stairwell.

There seems to be a storage room not far from here - and protocol states that a ship has to carry emergency power packs, enough to power a small vessel like the Voyager.

I shine my helmet light up in the stairwell, but the floor above is pitch black.

As I lower my head, I notice a stain on the wall and reach out to touch it-

A breath down the back of my neck.

I spin suddenly, aiming the gun.

No one. Nothing. 

I’m too paranoid, I have to get out of here.

I look at the stain and realise it’s just some oil. What did I really expect to see?  

A tiny voice whispers the answer in my head, but I refuse to listen.

I find the storage room after what feels like another age of walking, but still no sign of life at all.

It’s coded. Of course, it is. I could search the ship for the code, but there’s a chance I’d never find it in a place this big.

I set the silencer on my gun and fire directly into the keypad.

No alarms. This ship truly is running out of power - it must all be directed to life support. How did a vessel like this even get out here?  

I drag the door open and there they are, four packs of fuel, enough to get me out of here. I feel calmer now, maybe there’s a control panel I can use to upload the ship’s log to find the answers and report back at Space Port-

I notice it then.

Silence.

Too silent. The silence of anticipation. 

There is someone outside the door.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

My heart is beating too fast as I raise my shaking hands.

“Hello?”

Nothing. No sounds of life.

There is something there.

The corridor is empty, but there are eyes on my back.

The voice in my head is screaming,

Run. Run. Run.

I begin to run back the way I came, no longer caring for silence.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

It’s growing louder, I’m running directly towards whatever the hell it-

A body drops to the floor, dripping with blood.

The unseeing eyes stare up at me, the mouth stretched into a wide, inhuman smile.

I scream, scrambling away from the mess.

I bump into a half-open door and a person leaps out, pinning me to the floor. Only it's not a person, it's another body…and oh God, I’m stuck on this ship with whatever is in here with no way to call for help.

My adrenaline kicks in as I push the body away, fighting for breath.

I’m running, the battery packs slapping against my thigh as I race through the corridors.

I slip on the final corner in a pool of blood.

It’s still warm.

How is it still warm?

I don’t look at the faces as I run by, I can’t. 

What is this place? What have I found?

The door is right there, it’s opening, I can see the Voyager already opening its doors, EVA blaring out warnings and emergency lights flashing. I don’t question how it’s operational again as I step over the threshold-

Two arms come around my waist and haul me to a jarring stop.

For a moment, I am floating there, suspended.

It seems so peaceful.

Then I am back inside.

The door is closing, and the Voyager is back online sending a distress signal.

But it’s too late.

The door seals.

I feel a smile on the face behind me as it hauls me back into horror.

This can’t be real; this can’t be how it ends.

I have to wake up now, right?

I want to wake up now.

It says something, the last words I understand in this nightmare.

“Hello there.”

April 22, 2024 23:22

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