Halloween Submissions 2018

Anthropophobia (Deep Space Horror)

The unfreezing is always the worst. 

I mean, cryo freezing is bad, but at least back on Earth they had anesthetic. Anything to numb the pain. But now, unfreezing and feeling that sudden, awful heat creep up my body- it's scream-worthy, but no one will hear me.

Why did I sign up for this solo mission? Why did I agree to go to the stars?

It was because you were scared, a little voice in the back of my mind whispers evilly. Scared of them.

I tell the little voice to shut up and step out. The air feels like it's boiling, but I know the temperature is normal, and it's just me. 

A rattle from the air shaft causes me to jump and look up. A fan covered with ice crystals clatters, bumping against the grate at every opportunity. But still, I could have sworn I heard . . . but I'm sure it's nothing. It couldn't be that, the one fear I have. The thing they swore wasn't going to happen. 

I stride purposefully towards the door, but the little lights at the lock are still red. I press my thumb against the scanner, but nothing happens. Exasperated, I bang on the door with my fist, shouting expletives. Funny, though . . . it's almost like I hear something from behind the door. But they swore that would never happen. I'm on a research mission. Nothing will follow me. Nothing will hitch a ride. I don't even know where I'm going.  

The door slides open with a woosh of air, like a cheesy sci-fi movie come to life. Down the white hallway, I swear I hear another door close.

I stick my head out of the door, my hair falling down my shoulder as I do.  

Another door opens. I jerk back and realize my worst fears have come true- something followed me. They said it wouldn't happen. They said it couldn't happen. 

I peer slowly back around the corner. Oh, god, eyes. Like two scales from a deadly snake, vivid green and hiding endless depths in them. The mouth opens slightly, showing pearly white teeth. 

It looks so familiar, but it doesn't look exactly like what I expected. The hair is paler, and there's less of it, but it still hangs down in shaggy masses. The arms are less muscled, and it's smaller than I though it would be, but it's not what I want to see.

Chronic anthropophobia, that's what the shrink called it. My parents were terrified, but there was nothing to do. It still plagued me, getting worse every day. They said the mission was a cure. Or, at least, a palliative.  

But with this thing in front of me, I knew nothing would ever get better. 

His mouth is slightly open. He moves to speak, and I stand still. He has already seen me. There's nothing I can do. 

"Hey, you're Anna, right? The girl who was scared of people?"