Sci Fi
The Breach
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Sound needs a substance to travel through, like air or water; in space, there was nothing. Nothing but the endless void. So, how could it hear them? Mina's body ached with strain as she continued to tense her muscles. She needed to be still. It couldn’t see you when you were still.
By Elena Sullivan4 years ago in Fiction
The Earthlings
“Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say.” She turned and faced the class, meeting each student’s eyes in turn. “My parents were among the last generation born on Earth. When they were preparing to leave the planet, people started talking about an old film – that is, something like a physical print of a hologram story that needs special equipment to be seen – that used that line to make people afraid of non-terrestrial life. What they never mentioned is that it wouldn’t matter, because a person in the vacuum of space wouldn’t be able to scream. If one were to leave the biosphere without a breathing suit for more than a few seconds, the lack of atmospheric pressure would cause the air in one’s lungs to escape, and the oxygen in the blood is then drawn into the lungs to try to balance the pressure. Without oxygen reaching the brain and other vital organs, the body cannot survive for more than a minute, or maybe two if the person is very lucky. On the other hand, if the person returns to the biosphere within those first few seconds, there is a very good chance for them to make a full recovery.”
By Randi O'Malley Smith4 years ago in Fiction
Chasing Dreams
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. But then I guess they’ve never heard of void banshees. Not that they are supposed to be real—just urban legend. Tales to scare navigators into staying on the sanctioned routes in the outer sectors of the solar system so that bounty hunters like us know where to find them. How were we meant to know there was any truth to the stories?
By Sarah Hegerty4 years ago in Fiction
Shattering of Peace
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say, but it seemed like all I could hear were the piercing shrieks of terror and agony rising out of the chaos below the palace. The acrid stench of burning flesh and combusted armaments filled the air, and the ground seemed to shake with each mighty impact. With their homes ablaze, people were running, scrambling to escape the death that surrounded them. Mothers and children were desperately making their way towards the palace as their sons, husbands, and fathers were heading towards the barracks that were stationed along the outer gates of the city. In the distance, trails of dust rose as those who were working in the fields sped towards sanctuary. The imperial fleet emerged from the darkness of the cosmic clouds, inching closer with each passing second. The time had finally come. We were under attack.
By Kurt Mason4 years ago in Fiction
Tales from the Wastes
It’s just your imagination Susan… It’s just your imagination. “Hello?” Nothing. “Is there anybody there?” Still nothing. “I can hear you!” She found herself screaming into the night. “This isn’t funny!” Susan’s cries remained unanswered, perhaps even unheard. Maybe it was all just her imagination after all. This was the night for an imagination to run rampant, if ever there was one.
By Christopher Beesley 4 years ago in Fiction
The Draft
"Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say." A blonde-haired man with a strong Texas accent stood atop a weapons trunk as a group of selects gathered around. The man held a British IPA in one hand and a plasma pistol in the other. General Ulysses Stanton was immature but still an experienced captain and well respected by his superior ranking officers.
By K.L. Greeves4 years ago in Fiction
Current
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. I read the line for the fourth time on the way up expecting to find some hidden meaning, but all I could get out of it were flashes of an old time movie about a space monster with acid in its veins. That’s probably why I expected something much more gruesome when I entered Carl Downing’s quarters; blood soaked bedsheets; furniture smashed to splinters; a hole in the wall; something. Instead, I found order. Nearly every item in it’s place, neat and tidy. If not for that sentence scralled on the wall in what appeared to be mint flavored toothpaste, you’d never know anything was amiss. That and the fact that no one had seen Carl Downing in more than six standard days, a long time for anyone to go unseen anywhere, let alone on the Venture.
By Ryan Fields4 years ago in Fiction
Fall of Forever
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. “Ahhhhhhh!” is the only thing I can hear now. It’s a breathy gasp of surprise changing into a cold shrill of dread. I feel the searing pain behind it, the sense of catastrophic loss attached to it. It rings beyond the last bit of oxygen expelled from the throat. It’s a soundtrack to the frozen globs of blood flying into the dark as they leave the light of the space station. It sits trapped in time within a body turning cold from the defeat of combat. I can hear its echo in my brain, death’s song, and I’m afraid.
By Daniel Rivas4 years ago in Fiction
