Sci Fi
The Kindness of Strangers in a Strange Land
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. The fact is, if they could hear you, they’d be too busy screaming themselves hoarse to save your ass. Land on an alien planet or two and you’ll get an earful.
By Denise Shelton4 years ago in Fiction
Mars Slapstick
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Nobody can hear you weep. Clint wept. Tears streamed. He could feel them pool near the corners of his nose. His nose began to run and that was a problem. He couldn’t blow his nose. He could only snort and swallow.
By Charles Fenton4 years ago in Fiction
Upon Islands of Time
The ship was indistinguishable from space. Not that it was black, but there was nothing to illuminate it. No stars in the background to at least give it an outline, not even the shiny smudge of a far-away galaxy. There was no way to see the ship, and therefore no way to tell whether it was moving. Then again, there was no one to look for the ship in the first place, at least there wasn’t likely to be. Still, there was a chance, however infinitesimal–so no lights shone from the gigantic specimen. In fact, no light wave would illuminate the ship. It was, for all intents and purposes, invisible, flying on through the nothingness that remained.
By Schuyler Ebersol4 years ago in Fiction
Haze of Titan
Chapter One "Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say." Technically, "they" are right. In the vacuum of space, there's no air to push out of your lungs. There's no way to make your vocal chords vibrate. Even if there were, there's no medium to carry the sound waves to listening ears. But just because nobody can hear it, doesn't mean you don't scream. Not when you begin to feel the alien parasites moving around inside. It doesn't matter if nobody can hear it. Trust me, you scream…
By Steve Haldi4 years ago in Fiction
De-void
"Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space" or so they say, that's what I thought in the depths of my mind as my lungs ached from screaming. Screaming seems pointless when no one can hear you in an oxygen filled helmet. Although, it was my instinctive reaction after being expelled from my connector cord. The concept of space remains interesting as it remains vast but close, bright but dark and attractive but warning. It's a bit more silent than you would think but that scared me a bit more, because the silence had depth in it's void. Floating idly as I gave up panicking is eerily more peaceful especially with 4 spare canisters of oxygen in my flourecent white jogger suit. I have been out for what feels like 2 hours but actually 40 minutes. The accelor watch may not be able to contact anyone for now but i still have the time running on earth's EST which we are all adjusted to. Being in space is incredible but being expelled from homehub X110 is not as incredible.The food and resources have grown desolate just as my hope of being returned to any of that. The eco-system has been going well for the population and seems to be progressing with productivity and efficiency but if they had fixed the second lower home base connector, I wouldn't be floating with my thoughts on an infinite trampoline.
By Merritt Xavier4 years ago in Fiction
Symposium
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Although, this level of solitude anywhere would yield the same effect. Extreme loneliness was one of the challenges that Sloan Ackerton was vetted and trained for. Training that was paying off more with each passing day.
By Jackson Withrow4 years ago in Fiction
In These Dark, Dark Woods
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. But sometimes, nothing is quite so loud as the silence. For the better part of six hours, Sebastian Rehal watched with the crew of the Union AstroCorps Ship Falconer as a derelict vessel drifted slowly, silently, along the edge of the DMZ and into Union space. The moment it did, it was time.
By Z.K. Monninger4 years ago in Fiction
Lost
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Everyday I fight with myself about wanting to find out. The allure of launching myself into the cosmos, to return to the stardust that my cells originated from 14 billion years ago, is a feeling I struggle with often. Being lost in space will do that to you. Looking out through the viewport of my starfighter, I imagine what it would be like to float away into nothingness. The view would be incredible and the weightlessness of floating relaxing. Eventually, the oxygen in my X390 pilot suit would run out.
By Adam Igrasek4 years ago in Fiction
