Member-only story
The Night Whisperers
Stay Safe By The Fire — Never Mind The Voices
The signal fire was lit. The oxygen converter would burn safely through the long night, needing only the air around it to fuel its hyper-efficient beacon. The column of light stretched high into the ebon sky, flickering and dancing like real flames. Simon sat on the rough-hewn stone bench staring into his sham of a campfire.
Maybe tonight…
He sighed, glanced over his shoulder at the silent, darkened hulk; all that remained of their great ship. It made a distinctive hummock on the otherwise featureless plateau. A world of rock, scoured by storms of ice spicules that blew nightly across the scarred grey surface of this lifeless world.
Soon the night whisperers would come calling. The nameless sorrows. Cold and sweet as icicles tinkling, murmuring ceaselessly as they sifted through the dark night. Freezing your marrow no matter how far you turned up the beacon, nor how close together you huddled inside the protective barrier.
The barrier wall which the colonists carved from the native rock had served them well, keeping out the blowing ice. But it couldn’t stop the whispers on the wind.
And no matter how carefully you trimmed the flare, the beacon died with the returning light, in the icy grey of pre-dawn. The…
