Shadows in the Black

6958 words

Maren’s breath caught in her throat as she pressed her gloved hand against the lab’s frosted window, the cold seeping through the worn fabric and biting into her palm. Outside, the Arctic night was a solid wall of black, not a void but a presence, thick as tar, pressing against the glass. The station’s halogen lamps flickered, casting jagged shadows across the snowpack, and for a moment, she swore something moved out there—just beyond the light’s edge, a shape too long, too thin, sliding through the dark. Her pulse hammered in her ears, louder than the hum of the lab’s dying heater. “Solvik, you’re jumping at ghosts now,” Harker muttered from behind her, his boots scraping against the linoleum as he shifted his weight. He stood by the lab bench, arms crossed over his parka, his jaw set like he was chewing on something sour. The fluorescent bulb above him buzzed, throwing harsh lines across his face, making his eyes look hollow. “We’ve got eight days to pack this place up. I don’t have time for—” “It’s not ghosts,” she snapped, spinning to face him, her voice sharper than she meant it to be. Her hand left a damp smear on the glass, already freezing over. “Something’s out there. I saw it. And if you’d listen for half a second...