The Void

I’m just drifting off to sleep when a familiar but chilling sound echoes in the room.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

My eyes flick open and my roommate stares back at me, eyes wide. The Russian, Yuri Kovalev, has been through a lot in his life to get to this point, but his eyes are so wide the whites nearly glow in the dim light. ”You heard that, right?”

I blink slowly, unsure as to what I heard but I know full well, something woke me up. “Did… did I hear a knock?”

Kovalev’s eyes widen further and I fear they may fall from their sockets. “You did. Means I’m not crazy then.”

I rub at my eyes and try to make sense of what he’s implying. “Was someone knocking on the door?”

Sweat beads on Kovalev’s brow, jiggling as he moves. “Someone…” he turns his attention to the door. “Or something.”

I laugh it off with a humor I certainly do not feel. “Or Something? You think aliens are out there?”

Kovalev’s face pales to ash. It seems he might.

With a sigh, I move from my bed and float through the room and into the next. Pausing for a moment I stare at the sole entrance and exit.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

My pulse stops. It honestly couldn’t be. I look to the gauges and sensors. Everything appears fine. I drift toward the small window in the door. I’m not sure what I expect to see, but I’m greeted with a blanket of stars amid the velvety noir of space. Probably just some debris or a forgotten tool out there. But to land so rhythmically. It was certainly odd.

Turning to head back to Yuri, I scoff at my own foolishness. How could anyone be knocking at the door? We’re literally thousands of miles above the nearest human, it’s literally imposs—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

When I glance back to the small window in the door, beyond my reflection, is a skeletal face frozen in terror. It glares at me with dark pits, and while in space no one can hear you scream, I see her jaw unhinge and attempt it anyway.

”Is that, Sheridan?!” Yuri’s voice makes me scream and my heart hammers against my chest, begging to be set free from this nightmare.

Sheridan Forrester was an astronaut lost on a space walk over two years ago, a stray projectile clipped her and we never saw her again. Until possibly now. I can see the gaunt face still wailing beyond the window, when I spot Yuri reaching for the comms button beside the door. “Yuri, don’t!”

It’s too late, and over the speaker in the small room, it fills the space with the wail I could only imagine from the mythical banshee. Both our hands shoot to our ears. Yuri hits at the button, but it does nothing.

The wailing intensifies.

Yuri claws desperately into the panel around the button and forces it open and disconnects it.

The wailing intensifies.

My teeth grind together and vibrate as I clench my jaw. I tear at the panel near the speaker, ripping the wires out.

But still, the wailing intensifies.

Yuri has blood pooling at the corners of his eyes, clinging to the gravity of his lashes. His body twists in midair, his hands clutching his ears, face contorted in agony. Suddenly he turns, stares right into my soul. His face pale, paler still, until he mouths “Mama…” and finally his eyes fixate on eternity and he floats motionless.

I cannot hear anything, just a shrill screech, unceasing and playing my spine like a violin, when the air begins to leave my lungs. My attention turns from one horror to the other as the window at the door has already cracked but now, it shatters into the void of space.

The edges of my vision darken, a skeletal hand reaches through the broken window and as darkness consumes me, I see the door slide…

..ringing in my ears meets the pounding of my head and I open my eyes, acting on instinct alone. Immediately, as if staring into the sun, I shut them again. I feel an animal like howl escape my lips as the pain from the ringing, melds with the pain of the light and adds to the orchestra of agony growing inside my skull.

My throat is dry and I hack and cough in my attempt to scream. Arms and hands force me back down and I feel the straps tighten around my chest, arms and legs. I thrash against the bindings and feel one come tight against my forehead. Still, I strain for freedom, my eyes slowly opening to reveal the light again. My eyes fade in, focus, and abruptly I wish they hadn’t.

She is there! Sheridan’s dark features stare down into mine and her wail fills my every thought, fills my ears, my teeth crack as I strain with my entire being for escape. Thick tears begin to run down my cheeks, my heart skips a beat, then I stare into those pits, into nothing—

***

Report in Science Daily - October 16, 2030

“Tragedy three hundred miles from Earth”

It is with a heavy heart we announce the passing of our astronaut aboard the International Space Station, James Franklin Kennedy. He was forty-two.

When asked for comment his Russian compatriot, Yuri Kovalev, said he awoke one night in such a fright that he could not be calmed.

Canadian Astronaut, Sheridan Forrester had this to say, “He’d never been the same since his last space walk. He swore up and down he’d seen the gates of hell themselves, it was after this we realized he’d been hit by a small space rock during the walk. We did our best to remove the fragment, but fear it may have led to the decline in his mental state.”

When the trio were replaced and brought home this week, both Kovalev and Forrester were reported to have contracted some sort of virus. It was reported that their bodies couldn’t regulate their temperature and they’ve been quarantined out of caution. Kennedy’s body will be donated to science as per his family’s wishes.