In wormhole space, no one can hear you scream. That’s unless you’ve left your mic on in Mumble, in which case your fleetmates will hear your every whimper. For Halloween, we published our second ever EVE Online fan fiction bounty. Given that it was Halloween, it was only right that we gave this contest a more sinister spin.
First place: The Haunted Hulk by Rixx Javix
There’s a reason horror movies don’t show you the awful monster lurking in the darkness until the final act. Fiction’s golden rule - ‘show, don’t tell’ - is especially applicable to horror. It’s only fitting then that Rixx Javix’s horror story gets our gold medal. A great deal is intentionally left to the imagination: a quarantine, the mental toll of the police state, quiet admiration for a long-term partner, and the ongoing plight of Matari slaves. It’s a fantastic piece, and we hope you enjoy reading it as much as we did.
Language warning: moderate ⚠
He awoke with a start, the captain’s quarters still eerily lit in that strange half-day half-night mode it seemed perpetually stuck in. His back creaked as it always did after a night on the couch. When would the restrictions be lifted and a decent bedroom be allowed by the stations? He rubbed his eyes. Probably not soon enough.
She stood on the dais in front of the wall of screens. He didn’t see her at first, her presence alien to the normally empty confines of the rented office. She was plain, small, and obviously Minmatar. She raised her hands imploringly, and then quickly vanished.
Huh, he thought, as his hand hit the commlink. His wife answered. She was always up before him no matter how early he woke. “How did you sleep?” she asked.
He smiled. Even though they couldn’t share the same apartment - he silently cursed the station once again - she could still read his mind. “About usual,” he replied, “although this morning I saw a ghost.”
"That’s interesting," she said, in that way wives have that lets you know it was anything but. “What are your plans for today?”
Before he could make a smart-ass remark that he would be made to regret for the rest of the day, he was interrupted by several apparitions materialising from the walls - twelve or so destitute-looking Matari citizens shambling across the floor, all raising their hands in the same imploring manner of the little girl. “I’ve got more of them now with me here in the office. I may have to call you back.” The apparitions were getting uncomfortably close.
“Don’t you dare hang up on me with ghosts in your office.” There was still a smile in her voice, but it was edged with concern.
The oldest of the group stopped short. The rest waited behind, their pleading only worsening now that they’d halted. “What are they doing?”, his wife asked. But he barely heard her as he watched a giant secure container form in the space before his eyes. It spun there lazily and he could hear crying, scratching and wailing coming from within the cargo space. As he watched, dumbfounded, the container burst into flames. The Matari leader, for that was all he could think of him as, looked directly into his eyes.
“They’re gone now, dear.” His voice must have sounded far away.
“Are you okay? Should I try and come over?” He thought about her offer for a second, knowing how hard it would be to make it happen - it would involve a bit of derring-do, some scaffolding, a ladder, a few bribes, and a death-defying swing from one gantry platform to another.
“Uh, no need. I have somewhere I need to be. Can you jump into the Impel and meet me at the Rani gate in fifteen? Bring a few dozen med-kits and see if you can scrounge up a medical team or two.” He clicked off the commlink before she could reply.
He called for one of his Thrashers; he needed something small and cheap. Going into high-security space was no easy task, and while his wife could come and go as she pleased, it was more of an issue for him. The dock manager asked if he needed a crew but he waved him off. He'd handle this one alone; no reason to put anyone else at risk.
At the gate he outlined his plan and his thoughts to his wife. Most of the work would fall into her lap, since he’d be shot on sight by the short-sighted buffoons of CONCORD. “I still think you’re crazy, it’s been five days…” He smiled as he jumped into his Thrasher. “When have you ever known me to not…” He became immaterial for a moment and reassembled on the other side. “… be crazy? Warping to the bookmark now, follow when you can.”
He arrived at an empty belt. He only had a moment. A quick d-scan and he saw what he was looking for - just as CONCORD started appearing next to him, he warped off again. He saw his wife’s Impel land as he entered warp. She’d know what he was up to.
This time he landed in an inferno, way closer to the sun than he would have liked. The Thrasher sealed up even though he was safe in his pod - automatic protection for the crew that would normally be onboard. Where was his wife? Already the police were landing; he only had a few moments. And then he saw her black ship emerge right on top of the can. He smiled as his board lit up and he was in his pod, without a ship around him.
The little girl was with him once more. This time, she smiled as his wife’s voice came over comms. “I’ve got thirty or forty survivors. They’re in bad shape but the meds say it’s mostly dehydration and hunger. They should be okay with some medical attention.” Her voice was always in control.
He knew the answer, but asked anyway: “What about children?” The hiss from space wailed in his ears, the little girl kissed him on the cheek, “The story we’re getting is the bastards kept the children in another container. I’m sorry. That one… didn’t make it.”
Her name was Ran. She smiled again and vanished - like all good apparitions should. There was no smile from him. He’d killed them when he ganked that Hulk last week. No indication it was smuggling slaves to Amarr, none at all. Goddamn nasty business.
He watched the police still circling his pod. Not a single one of them would stop and help. They punished, but they rarely showed the first sign of human caring. Certainly CONCORD’s hospitals would be better than the ones in Ouelleta, but no help would come from that side, as usual. These were the self-same bastards that allowed slavery in the first place.
He watched the Impel enter warp, and he followed it back to the gate.
“It’s a goddamn hard universe, Ran. Honestly, you’re better off dead.”
But he knew better.
2nd place: Cloned Bodies by Greybill
From psychological nail-biters to gore-filled slashers, horror can take many forms. greybill’s story combines both in an unsettling tale that left us feeling a bit queasy. The only levity is in the nod to one of EVE’s more controversial topics. We won’t give it away, but let’s just say we hope his story doesn’t leave you ‘feline’ too creeped out. Be warned: this one really isn’t for the faint of heart.
Gore warning: extremely graphic content ⚠⚠⚠
A tormenting scream echoed through his mind and shook him awake. There was cold sweat on his body. He blinked, disoriented. A single source of light flickering above him stung his eyes. The thin, dirty blanket was neatly placed on his naked body; the cold was biting, he should be shivering, but his body seemed ignorant of it.
A single, horrifying thought seized him: Why can’t I move? His breath became heavy, fighting the rising panic. He tried again and again, but his muscles wouldn’t obey. Exhausted, he gave up. Only his eyes and mind were under his control.
“I almost thought you’d refuse to wake up again.”
A shiver ran down his neck. The speaker was to his right, just beyond his field of vision. There was anger and disapproval in the cold voice.
“We are far from done with you.”
We? He tried to speak. What is this place? Why am I here? Instead of words, only stinking air escaped his throat. Another wave of fear washed over him as he tried to feel inside his mouth. There was only a sore emptiness where his memory said his tongue should be. My god…
A slender figure emerged from the darkness to his left. The unforgiving light cast hard shadows over its featureless face. It was looking down through a pair of rugged welding goggles. The reflection within them looked disturbingly unfamiliar to him.
This… this isn’t my body.
The figure donned an apron. It was covered in ugly stains, the origins of which he preferred not to know. The voice from the darkness continued. “You have some disgusting bodies in your clone bay. Fitting for degenerate scum like you.”
With his limited options, he tried to spot who was speaking.
“Let’s begin. And start with this atrociousness on his Gallentean head.”
With a slapping sound, the slender goggled figure pulled on a pair of rubber gloves - they were all too reminiscent of the apron - and a scalpel from their pocket. Through the rust - or was it dried blood? - the blade barely reflected any light.
Begin with what? The slender figure stepped closer. No! He tried to move with all his might. His thoughts were screams. Get away from me!
“You might have noticed that you’re missing a tongue today.” There was movement to his right, the hidden speaker finally stepping into view. Their face was a terrifying grimace of anger and hate. “I grew sick of your pathetic whining.”
Goggles grabbed something on his head with one hand and placed the scalpel against his skin with the other. The blade was far from sharp and ripped more than it cut through his hair and flesh. He closed his eyes and held his breath for as long as he could. These people were here for pain. His pain. Why? What did he do? His vision clouded and his eyes stung, the blood was flowing down his head.
The ripping skin made a disgusting sound, and a flash of pain forced the air out of his lungs. The speaker placed a metal tablet on his chest and the other one dropped a hairy, blood-soaked triangle on it.
Was that… a cat ear?
“You know, I’m really getting to like this Serpentis station. You can get almost any kind of drug here.” The speaker held a syringe in his field of view. “From the ones that paralyse, to this. It increases the brain’s sensitivity to nerve signals.” He flicked his finger against it.
“Some take it to enhance their sexual pleasures. But it works just as well for pain.”
With a smile, the faceless figure lowered the syringe into his face. Hyperventilating, he did the only thing he could and shut his eyes. A second later, the nerve of his right eye burst into flames followed by the pressure of the liquid drug entering his body in a place where no needle should ever go. The cut on his head burned like pulsing fire with every beat of his panicking heart.
“Let’s keep going with the skin of the feet,” the torturer said. “Did you restock the acid?”
He felt a sickening pull on his eye as the syringe was pulled out. It felt like there was sandpaper on the thin metal tube. He heard a gargling, agonised scream then realised it was coming from his own throat.
Bob, help me!
"Just to make sure you don’t forget, egger: You took twelve lives when you destroyed that Venture. That means we have nine more of your clones to torture until the score is settled. Nine lives. Those ears are fitting."
3rd place: Nobody Heard the Screaming by Miyoshi Akachi
Face-eating aliens with acid blood are one thing, but the true horror of space lies in its vastness. AlexGoesTheWorld’s story, set in a remote mining ship, portrays this quiet dread. It’s a reminder to even the most confident that you never really know what lurks in the darkness.
Somewhere in a forgotten system. Date unknown.
The ship was quiet but for a few humming lights as it sat on the fringes of that lonely star system. The system’s primary shone in the distance, a spot not much brighter than others dotting the otherwise endless darkness.
Second Technician Dorothy Lesset spoke into her comms as she walked down one of the many corridors crisscrossing the ship and leading to its bowels. “I don’t know why we have to sit out here and do routine check-ups.”
“You know how capsuleers are,” came the reply from First Technician Tyler Vandof, sitting at the main technical station a few decks above. “Sometimes their reasoning is unfathomable.”
Dorothy made a tutting sound as she reached the maintenance panel highlighted in her overview. “Here we are.” She grunted with effort as the panel proved to be harder to open than expected. A good pull eventually detached the metal cover from its housing.
“Now…” She observed the electronics housed inside: cables came in and out, a few lights stared in silence. Without a diagram, it would be near impossible to find the problem. She checked her work order and the associated diagram, and then got started.
A few minutes passed, and then a few more. The ship kept sitting idly in the darkness. “How’s it going, Dorothy?” Tyler asked as he checked the remote diagnostic: the panel was open and highlighted in red, as it should be. No reply. “Dorothy?”
He turned to another technician. "Do we have comm problems?”
“Nothing to my knowledge,” came the dry response.
He shrugged. More time passed with no feedback. The remote diagnostic reported no change; the panel was still open for maintenance. Then and only then, Dorothy’s online status light flickered off.
“She’s offline, but the panel’s still open,” muttered Tyler. He figured there was some sort of technical problem; certain ship systems interfered with internal wireless communications. Or maybe her comm gear had died. “I guess I’ll go take a look.”
He knew the ship pretty well, like most of the crew, and had no trouble making his way down corridors and access ladders. Only… he felt a chill. Strange, in a ship with an environmental control holding the temperature stable. Also was it somehow… darker? Another unlikely feeling, as the lights were also set at a standard brightness, and were not in idle or emergency status.
He came into the corridor where Dorothy had been at work. There was nothing but the open panel. “Dorothy?” He called out, but there was no answer. More than that; it was too silent. Even the constant vibrating hum of the ship was barely audible. “If this is a game, it’s no fun,” he warned as he looked left and right feeling a growing unease.
He took a look into the open maintenance panel. All was as it should be but for Dorothy’s power tool, inserted into a valve’s calibration socket. Why would she leave it there?
Back at the technical station, nobody worried. Someone even went as far as guessing that the first and second technician had disappeared for an ‘in-depth technical review’. That was until the power ran out and communications died. Then they worried.
“Ah! So everyone is dead," the first technician chuckled, powering off the screen on which he had read the little horror tale. It was just as he expected: people disappearing and dying inside a lone ship deep in space.
Nobody truly knew what could lurk out here, and that was perfect for these little horror stories. He didn’t really believe in cosmic darkness or alien entities crawling up into a ship or into his station, he had lived too long in dangerous, remote stations to be fooled. Whenever anything went wrong it was always due to a human error or a technical malfunction. Nothing more.
He stretched as he rose from his chair. Time for a routine walk around. He grabbed his jacket and headed out into the bowels of the mostly automated mining installation; the cluster of asteroids and prefabricated structures sat in the furthest asteroid belt from the dim, primary star. Far away from prying eyes and noisy interruptions.
Discarded at his console, the pad’s screen flickered. “Nobody heard the screaming.” The words appeared as written on the last page of a tale.
Someone screamed down below, but nobody heard.
If you want more EVE fanfiction, check out the winning stories of our first fanfiction bounty, Once upon a time in New Eden. Be sure to tell us the genre you’d like for the next edition below.
The stories above have been edited. You can find the original wording at the bounty post. You’ll also find some other entries that didn’t quite make the top three. We’d like to give a particular shout out to orik Kado’s story The Day Physics Broke: The Strange Story of the Raitaru which is based on a real EVE bug.
Image Credit: Razorien
Created at . Page last updated at .
