Archive for the ‘Death in Space’ Category

Thuggie death dealer by John McCambridge on

“Can you see them?” asked Tuna.

“Yeah. Four guys, with curved daggers,” said Mark.

“How the hell did they get those on board?”

“Doesn’t matter. We have to get past them. The asteroids damaged the reactor; those terrorist bastards don’t realize that we’re all going to die if the engines go critical.”

Tuna’s whiskers twitched. He pulled the heaviest wrench from his toolbox and placed a furry paw on his friend’s shoulder. “Go. I’ll hold them back..”

“Tuna …”


Mark bolted down the corridor. The terrorists turned, knives drawn, and charged.

Tuna pounced, wrench swinging, ready to die.

Space Oddity by Cikalong on

“Swords don’t breach hulls!”

“A gun kills at a hundred yards,” I argue.

“Name a shuttle that long.”

I feel stupid.

She runs a mutineer through.

At the airlock we suit up. She cycles the hatches.

The sword looks cartoonish in her glove.

Red lights flash and we’re out.

“Take my hand!” yells Veronica. I grab blindly and slice my glove open. I spin, venting gasses.

She clamps two hands on my wrist, stopping the purge.

“Your sword,” I say. It floats away.

“Your hand,” she replies. It’s frozen. Dead.

Maybe if we’re saved in time, both will be replaced.

Alien by patryk-garrett on

Thud. Click. Thud. Click. Thud.

Time is a snapshot as the emergency lights flash.

Red. Black. Red. Black.

Blood pools on the floor, a shadow creeping along the walls, slick and dangerous.

She’d slipped in it earlier. Ensign Cade had grunted when she landed on him. The sound escaped from the gaping maw that had been his throat.

A creeping shadow gnawed at the edges of the smiling wound. Laughing.

Thud. Click. Thud. Click. Thud.

Her blood pounds in her ears, contained, and behind her the beast follows.

A shadow passes the mouth of the corridor.

Thud. Click. Thud.


Tentacles in Space by fightbeast on

Life support is down.
The corridor is dark and slick.
I raise my gun.
Artificial gravity quits as a tentacle latches onto my suit.
A Squeegee’s three-eyed mouth sticks to my faceplate.
I fire upward toward its brain. My arm is forced backward and there’s a clang and the cracking of bone.
The Squeegee floats, ripped to shreds by the bullet that now schrings as it ricochets.
Gravity’s back.  I’m slammed to the floor.
“Crap,” I mutter. My faceplate explodes and the air is pulled from my lungs.
Life support returns. I can take a breath and smell dead Squeegee.

Forgotten by Eemeling on

I step out of my ship.
“Hello? I’m the new roommate!”

Echo in the abandoned space station.

I find a note: (Make yourself at home! —Dan
P.S. Lights are buggy)


I explore; I end up staring at a red-paint-streaked wall. Interesting décor.

Scampering behind me! 
I follow the sound. Coast clear.
Pounding down the hall!
I walk backwards, heart beating.
Lights flicker and cut out.
Stomach sinks.

Lights come on. Before me is a 10 foot creature, “Reeeaaaarrgghh!”
I run.
 A dead end!

The creature clears his throat.
“Nice to meat you! I’m Dan.”