Sci Fi
Dystopian depths
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. I'd always imagined sleep to be a temporary emancipation of our souls from our bodies, snatched from their very cores and hurled into the dark depths of the unknown to ebb and flow along the fabric of space-time, interacting with whichever other souls they drifted by.
Tessa MerchantPublished 2 years ago in FictionObscurity
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. That’s if you believe that hearing is the only sense you could use for that. But he knew what it means to FEEL a scream. To feel it without realizing that it’s not coming to you as a sound. At the time, he didn’t even register that fact in his head. There was no doubt that what he’s hearing is coming out of that open mouth he is staring at. And it didn’t really matter that there was a vacuum between them.
Gene ActonPublished 2 years ago in FictionSage
CHAPTER 1 - WELCOME HOME Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. My inner monologue is interrupted by a modulated voice that echoes through the spaceship’s cargo hold to where I stare through a magnetic seal to the planet below. “Approaching departure zone. Ready to jump in t-minus twenty minutes. Satellite data incomplete. Weather uncertain below mesosphere. Best estimate of surface wind speed is zero to thirty kilometers per hour.”
Rich SmithPublished 2 years ago in FictionDeep Void
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. But I doubt anyone has ever tried to do it to see if it was true. After what those mutinous dogs did to me, I may test the Theory out myself. It will be quicker than the fate that awaits me.
Daniel DoneyPublished 2 years ago in FictionAltered Plans
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Yet, Rachael, now deep in the enthralling wonder and quietude of the cosmos, gazing out at it all from the large window of the ship’s helm, could still hear Curtis’s voice ringing in her ears, crying out at the top of his lungs as he raced toward her, “NO! NO! NO! Rachael, don’t go! Rachael, please NOOOO!”
Vivian LundahlPublished 2 years ago in FictionQuantum Paradox
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. That’s according to the rules of physics we are aware of. In the quantum realm, these rules no longer apply. In the quantum realm, we begin to experience the truth of a holographic reality. A scream doesn’t have to be heard, it can be felt.
Ashlyn McKnightPublished 2 years ago in FictionThe Gene Timer
The Gene Timer CHAPTER 1 Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Thats exactly the feeling that I had as my voice echoed through the darkness of the Goose Island Woods. I lay there screaming for help knowing that no one can hear me. “Please someone help me” I scream as my voice echoes through the emptiness of the woods. Only it doesn’t feel like night to me. I can see perfectly clear, clearer than I ever have. I try and stand up to only feel a sharp stabbing in my lower right abdomen. As I go to grab my stomach I feel an unfamiliar scar, “what the hell is this?!” I yell as I wince in pain while my fingers run over the jagged scar about 6 inches in length. I slowly begin to stand up, my balance not what I remember it to be. I’m feeling groggy like I have been asleep for days. Have I been? How long was I out? Has it been days, weeks, years? The last thing I remember is walking home to my house from the bar. I was fumbling for my keys and then everything after that is a blur. I go to try to check my phone to see what the date it is, “Of course it’s dead” I mumble to myself. “I might as well start walking”, I say to myself. I start to wander through the woods hoping to catch a glimpse of someone or hear the bustle of the city. I begin heading what I believe is the quickest way out of the woods. It’s a hot and humid out and I’m still in a long sleeve crew neck, and blue jeans. As I start to sweat I decide to roll up my sleeves, and that’s when I notice on the inside of my left wrist something unusual. It looked like a tattoo of a timer, but it was counting down. 47 hours 53 minutes and 16 seconds…... 15 seconds…14…13..12. My mind begins to panic, “what could this be, a bomb, is it counting down my time left on this planet, a sick joke?”. I start running hoping I would run into someone. “Please help me!” I frantically yell as I feel the droplets of moisture form on my face. With ever step I slowly begin to lose hope that I will ever get out of these woods.
Troy RichertPublished 2 years ago in FictionBetween
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. That made sense, but here now, floating in space, he wasn't so sure it was as simple as that. It would seem obvious why you shouldn't be able to hear a scream because it should be impossible for anyone to scream. If you are floating in space without a suit, you will freeze immediately, which should happen, so it's not hearing the scream that is a problem but having time to scream. However, that has all changed now because, in the last short while, he screamed twice and once while floating up here in space.
nigel BullersPublished 2 years ago in FictionKellek's Aria
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. I'll find out for sure in about thirty seconds if I don't get out of these cuffs. It's too bad these are the newer style with the wrist field grip, otherwise I could just dislocate a thumb and get one hand free. Fat chance of that working as long as the batteries last - which will be a lot longer than the few seconds I have left.
Russel PoroskyPublished 2 years ago in FictionVoidforce
Chapter One Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. But what about the screams here on Earth? An obvious, almost banal question, I know. But I believe it is justified, for the vacuum of space has come to us—or something even more unfathomable than it.
Humilitas Occidit Superbiam
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Air cannot travel without instantly freezing; the only bodies allowed to exhale are those that burst into a giant display of chaos, spitting life-creating elements onto the deepest reaches of our minds and everything else’s orbital space. I have been screaming for years now whilst my blood, sweat and tears boil into crystals, and my heart churns into the perceived rhythm of the Sun, submitting the all-presence into eternal orbit towards the center of the Milky Way. A cyclical shift into hypomania has been long overdue, but things don’t move the same way out of Earth. One cannot submit to the crushing defeat of the perceived absence of matter, life, light, love. Quicker shall be the perpetual particle journey through space, for now only I could simulate the inaudible representation of pain. This absence of sound reminded me of the time I first became a mathematician.
Inmate 871
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. The words swam up unbidden to her mind. The only noise in the airlock was the hum of the station and the muted, sporadic thumps and bumps coming from the other side of the hatch. Alex drifted closer to the small window, her breath fogging up the glass. Inmate 871, also known as Alexandra Stiles, watched as a dead man thrashed and clawed at the hatch from the other side, its bloody teeth bared as it screamed in silent fury.
Tylor HaydonPublished 2 years ago in Fiction