Dr. Spencer oversaw all communications both within the high-tech official building and out among the stars. Well deserving of her workplace affection, she greeted many of the room''s occupants by name, asking a few personal questions along the way. "How is your daughter, John? Shannon, did you have fun at the wedding last weekend?" Dr. Spencer cared deeply about her employees and ensured they were reminded each day.
Today, however, was an extra special day.
For the first time in nearly five decades, astronauts were going back to the moon. A staff meeting two years ago discussed this as a possibility thanks to one specific man. Dr. Mark Emerson raised an intriguing question after listening to updates from Mars.
"We have monitored Mars for quite some time and have learned that bacteria and other microscopic forms of life have been developing, finding more as time goes on. What if these developments are occurring on the moon, as well? We have no way of knowing without regular monitoring from either man or technology."
After extensive meetings covering expense justification, mission planning, and various types of training tune-ups, the mission was finally a go. By this time tomorrow, the men would have landed and Dr. Spencer would be broadcasting the live footage to all NASA employees, with Dr. Emerson by her side. After recording, analyzing, and finalizing details of the trip with the astronauts safely on their way home, they would release the footage to the world.
The team within the computer laboratory were together for the rest of the day performing technology checks, sound adjustments, and furniture rearranging as they prepared for what they would hope to be a historic day.
Dr. Emerson arrived before anyone else, loading boxes upon boxes of donuts into the lab as an early celebration for the anticipated events. People began pouring into the room soon afterwards, some making their way to the desks while others stood against the walls, everyone looking to get a good view at the large screen that completely covered the north wall except for a few feet around each edge.
Dr. Spencer walked into the room with her usual smile and greetings for everyone, making her way to the front alongside Dr. Emerson beneath the flat screen.
"Hello everyone! We have gathered you here just a bit early but we will have open communication via audio and video with the group within the next half hour. Please enjoy coffee and donuts while we wait. Today... we make history!" Applause rippled throughout the room, hopeful laughter and conversation following immediately as the NASA employees and scientists eagerly waited.
Finally, silence ensued as the idle screen containing NASA''s emblem was replaced with a small rotating circle as the visual began to load.
The loading screen was soon replaced with the image of large white gloves, a small NASA symbol at the wrist. Footage rotated between the body cameras of each astronaut in the group, showing their bulky arms as they sat in the spaceship waiting for word to exit. According to the mission briefing, the men were to deposit a rover similar to Opportunity so that regular monitoring could be achieved.
Communication was repeatedly tested as check ins with each astronaut occurred, ensuring mental and physical health after their journey. With the go ahead, the door opened with a hiss. The men waited on the retractable metal steps until everyone was ready. After a quick countdown, they jumped together, landing their feet on the moon for the first time in almost 50 years.
Cheers erupted, both from the large screen and from the open room full of excited and anxious people. Chatter continued amongst everyone as they watched the explorers leap around dust and rock, the same dust and rock the very first astronauts walked on. For more accurate developmental research, the team aimed their landing in the same area with careful consideration of time of year and moon placement so that the footage of previous moon landings could be cross-examined later. The five astronauts were obviously excited to be among such historical land, splitting up to cover more ground. The rover was to be dispatched after a quick evaluation of the area.
"Holy shit."
The room fell silent as their eyes jerked back to the screen, searching for what caused the exclamation.
"You won''t fucking believe this," the voice continued. One of the astronauts, Sean Beekman, had a slight shake in his voice as he spoke.
Dr. Spencer quickly shuffled through the body cameras, searching for the one labeled "BEEKMAN_24". It didn''t take the label for her to know she had the right one.
Not a word was spoken as the screen portrayed the image of a large, dusty rock, at least 15 feet in height and 20 feet in length judging by what was lying next to it.
A familiar suit, eerily similar to the ones currently being worn by the sources of the active footage.
"My God," Dr. Emerson muttered, a hand over his mouth. Complete silence remained as the people both in the room and above the earth''s atmosphere took in what they were looking at. It was clear that the suit was older than the ones the crew was currently wearing and that there was something terribly wrong with it. White, frayed fibers stood tall from the ventral line of the prostrate suit, indicating a very long cut from chest to pelvis. Sean awaited orders to approach, cautiously taking a few steps back.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Dr. Spencer relayed the order to Sean: "We have to look at it, we have to know who it is. Proceed with caution."
Sean took a step forward, breath ragged as he approached. The image on the screen showed something heartstopping - other suits lying nearby. Sean turned his body to show the Earth crew what he was seeing, counting out loud as he did so.
"One, two, three..."
Twelve. There were twelve suits strewn across the barren landscape.
"Hey... how many people have landed on the moon before us again?"
Dr. Spencer hesitated. "T-... Twelve, Beekman. Twelve."
A gut wrenching feeling filled the atmosphere, crushing the scientists with its silence. Sean began walking forward once again.
As he got closer, the rips in the suits were easily visible. Massive tears, the only abnormality about the spacesuits themselves. He kneeled down next to the one he saw first and read the barely visible name patch.
"CERNAN".
Dr. Spencer dropped her head. Confused, scared, and curious, chatter began and theories flowed.
"Quiet, QUIET!" Dr. Emerson desperately tried to regain control, although it was unclear of whether it was of the employees or himself. "Beekman, keep going, please." His voice was almost a whimper.
Sean knelt down to the body, freezing in his tracks once he realized what he saw. Eugene Cernan, part of the crew on Apollo 10, still in his suit. It was impossible to tell it was him apart from the name patch, his face was unrecognizable. His eyes were completely decomposed, the only thing left of his skin completely mummified and gray. A skeleton stared back at everyone in the room from inside the spacesuit.
Regaining his composure, he looked at the bodies around him. Each one looked exactly alike, decayed and unsettling. He paused over the bodies as he read the name patches, "IRWIN", "ARMSTRONG", "ALDRIN", "CONRAD"...
"Every American that has landed on the moon is lying right in front of us, dead," Dr. Spencer said softly. "How is that possible?"
"Were the returns faked? Weren''t they documented?"
They thought for a moment. Neither of them had ever seen the "living" astronauts that had supposedly returned from the moon decades ago nor had they seen evidence of the previous explorer''s homecoming.
Panic set in as Sean said, "Where is everyone else?"
Dr. Spencer had muted them as she focused on the insanity from Beekman''s camera. She quickly fumbled with the computer as she remembered that there were other men up there.
"Please, come in," she said as she alternated between each camera. She had furiously clicked through the footage, seeing the same thing on the four other men''s suits - a starry sky. It was beautiful, vast and open. As badly as everyone wanted to admire what they were looking at, they quickly realize that this meant the cameras were facing upwards and the wearers were laying on their backs. No answer came from any of the crew-mates so she quickly cycled back to Sean.
"You have to get to them immediately," she said to Sean. The orders had not been given from her supervisor but she felt that this had been deemed obvious. She would deal with whatever punishment came after she knew everyone was okay.
The camera showed the unending dusty terrain as Sean turned and began bounding towards the ship. His terror became increasingly obvious as his breathing echoed through the silent room.
A flash of white flitted across the screen as Sean froze in his tracks.
"Did you see that," he whispered, taking a cautious step backwards. Fear set in as he knew that the absence of gravity would never allow him to move quickly if he needed to.
The silence ached. Dr. Spencer thought that maybe she could pass it off as a shooting star to calm him down but immediately thought better of it. They knew that what they saw was not something they had ever seen before. She anxiously cycled through the other cameras to see if she could get another glimpse of whatever it was. The black, star sprinkled sky glared menacingly back at her.
"FUCK!"
Dr. Spencer panicked, knocking a cup of writing utensils over as she smashed the keyboard to get Sean''s image back onto the screen.
"HELP! THERE''S SOMETHING UP HERE, THERE''S SOMETHING UP HERE!" Sean screamed repeatedly, his camera showing nothing abnormal as he desperately tried to run. The moon forced him to move agonizingly slow, giving him too much time to think about his potential fate. Sean began to cry helplessly, collapsing onto the surface of the moon.
"You have to keep going, Sean, we''re going to get you out of there," Dr. Emerson finally spoke again. "You have to get up."
Suddenly, the camera blurred as it fell to the ground and rolled back to show the sky. "NO IT -" Sean began, the audio cutting off completely as the screen showed nothing but the reflection of the room.
Shuffling through the cameras again, Dr. Spencer began to cry. There had to be something, anything she could do. Dr. Emerson dropped his head into his hands, completely at a loss.
Dr. Spencer gasped as she settled on one of the crew member''s body cameras, causing everyone to flash their eyes to the screen.
In the top right corner, green lettering read "BEEKMAN_24". When the visual finally loaded, an empty, star spattered sky stared back at them.
The Silence
"Your music is way too loud, you''ve been hiding in this room for weeks, get down here and do the dishes, vacuum this disgusting room, anything, I don''t care!"
I rolled my eyes with a sigh, slamming my book shut. My eyes met hers, seething and cold.
"There are a million other ways you could say that, Mom."
She whipped around, storming down the stairs and into the kitchen with a frustrated grumble as she went. I had been getting the cold shoulder and the hot head from her since last year.
My father had taken me to a cabin in the mountains of Tennessee for my sixteenth birthday. For the entire week, we were scheduled to do all sorts of fun things - zip lining, fishing, cave tours, you name it. With my parents being divorced, my mom had hated the idea of us going together for an entire week. Despite her poor attitude and snide remarks, Dad and I packed up and left. The first few days of being in the mountains were the best of my life.
Everything changed on the fourth night.
Tragedy struck and my father lost his life protecting me. Being a child of separated parents wasn''t easy, but being the child of a dead parent was much harder.
Since then, I haven''t liked silence. I play my music a little too loud, watch a few too many movies, and get invested in not-that-good TV shows (I wouldn''t mind if Netflix changed their selection more often).
My mom hasn''t seemed to be that upset about his death. Instead, she''s been pointing her anger at me. She thinks I''ve changed because I''m "acting out", desperate for attention since the loss of my father. As badly as I''d like to tell her the truth, I know that it would complicate things and make everything drastically worse. For now, I''d just let her think I was a bratty teenage girl going through a phase. If it provided a hint of normalcy, it was good enough for me.
I demanded to be homeschooled soon after his death when I left class in a hurry, realizing that they had followed me. The things that got my dad. We were taking an exam in my third period Biology class and Ms. Carter had requested complete silence until everyone turned in their papers.
That was the first time I saw them since the night in the cabin. My dad had picked up rather quickly that noise was what kept them away.
So noise I made. Watching YouTube videos of new bands, playing video games with the volume up, talking on the phone with my friends late into the night, I did anything I could do to make constant noise. Unfortunately, this was at the expense of improving an already very strained relationship with my mother.
"It''s supposed to storm tonight," she said as I was putting clean dishes away, much calmer now. "Apparently it''s going to be pretty bad. I want help with the chores in case we lose power for a while."
I nodded, offering a quick apology for spending too much time in my room. Getting along with her wasn''t on my list of priorities, but since my dad died I have missed having someone I could be close to.
Before their divorce, The three of us would play board games whenever the weather was bad as a way to pass time. Maybe mom and I could do that together tonight.
The storm started well into the night at around two in the morning. I had been awake finishing my novel to some instrumental music when the first crash of thunder shook the house. I remembered how my mom used to close her eyes and take a breath when she heard the rumbling, savoring the sound as if it comforted her. She marveled in the sound of a deafening storm.
I jogged down the stairs, through the kitchen and headed towards her bedroom. Maybe she would want to play a game and listen to the thunder, I thought. Our talking would make a safe amount of noise, right?
I made a quick detour to the living room, shuffling through the cabinets at the lowest level of the entertainment center to find a game I thought she''d like. Monopoly? No, too long... Maybe Sorry? I think she said that was "for children". I wasn''t really sure what she liked anymore.
I settled on Battleship and made my way back towards her bedroom. I could hear her breathing from outside the slightly cracked door, steady as she slept.
Softly, I knocked.
"Huh?" she started, quickly rolling over to face me. "What? What time is it?"
"It''s kind of late... the storm started, so I brought Battleship in case -"
"How late?" she interrupted.
"Um... I think around 2:30 now. Do you wanna play or-"
"I''m really tired, we can play tomorrow. Get some sleep, aren''t you behind on those workbooks for school? I have to submit those for you so work on those or something." She rolled back over and pulled the covers back up, signifying that her answer was non-negotiable.
I sighed, turning around and somberly walking back to the living room to replace the board game. I jumped as the cabinet closed, a booming clap of thunder shaking the earth at the exact moment the door clicked shut.
The lights went out.
I looked around aimlessly in the black room, reaching my arms out and fumbling for something that could help me see. A flashlight, one of our battery-powered candles, anything would do.
I hummed to myself as I climbed the stairs, realizing that the radio had shut off with the power outage. My heart began to race and I slowly took a step backwards down the stairs. Fear began to creep up my body, numbing my feet and legs as it crawled higher and higher.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Snapping back to reality, I began humming a quick and uneven tune, rushing back to my mother''s room.
"Hey mom, do you think you could get up now? I''m pretty bored and we just lost power so-"
"Seriously, I already told you I''m trying to sleep," she whispered harshly. "You are way too old to be scared of the dark. Go to sleep!"
"Mom I just-"
"Close the door. Now."
With a frustrated sigh, I pulled the door shut harshly. I snapped my fingers and continued my desperate song, feeling my way back into the living room to the couch.
My mind shuffled through an array of ideas, quickly giving up on each one. There was a small chance I''d be able to find my phone in the dark and it was even less likely to have sufficient charge. Getting my mom to talk to me would end up in her slamming the door and locking me out, ignoring me for the rest of the night. I was fairly certain that we only had one flashlight with batteries in it and that it was sitting in the car outside. It would be impossible to find the keys in the pitch black and a light wouldn''t make much noise, anyhow.
Dim, murky grey orbs glared at me from the left side of the living room. I quickly realized that I had stopped humming while trailing off in thought. With a gasp, broken and strangled notes escaped my mouth as I forced myself to sing. I blinked, and the eyes were gone. Tears formed in my eyes and poured over onto my cheeks. I could not keep this up all night and with it being so late, no one would work on the power until morning.
Softly, I whispered a tune and cried. My eyes were feeling heavy with sleep and the sting of tears was making it worse. It was so hard to stay awake in pitch black room, despite all of the fear in my body. I looked around the room as I hummed some more, terrified to see something looking back at me. Again.
I hated feeling as if I was staring death in the face. I wanted to turn around and curl up, covering my head in a blanket and waiting until it was all over. The room didn''t feel empty as I closed my eyes and sang through my tears. I knew something was watching me, waiting for me to mess up, but I would not go down without a fight.
BEEP!
I jumped, heart pounding out of my chest. A breathless laughed escaped me as I realized the microwave had turned on in the kitchen. The power was back.
Immediately, I scrambled off the couch and darted through the house, skipping every other step as I ran up the stairs to my room. I flipped the bedroom light on and examined the chaotic, poor excuse of a bedroom. My phone was among the mess on the end table and a blinking red light beckoned from the radio, begging me to turn the music back on.
I took a deep breath, turned the dial and threw myself on to my bed with a sigh. That was way too close, I thought. I had to be more careful. Heart-rate finally returning to normal, my eyelids succumbed to the weight of sleep.
A sharp stabbing pain in the center of my forehead jolted me into consciousness. As I went to rub the sting, I realized my arms were stuck at my side. With no visible restraints, I struggled against cold, unforgiving air. I looked around the pitch black room, realizing my lights and radio had been shut off while I was asleep.
Mom. My stomach churned. The tears begin welling up in my eyes again as six cloudy eyes pierced mine. They surrounded my bed, towering over me.
"Marked."
It was unclear which set of eyes the raspy whisper came from but it was obvious it had to do with the liquid running down my nose from my forehead.
Just like it did on my dad.
Panic filled every cell of my body as I struggled, whimpering but unable to make a sound. Each of the eyes softened and an icy gust of air swept over my lips. Instinctively, I knew it was touching me.