It was never quiet in space.

Air circulation fans and fluid coolant pumps. The hum of electrical equipment.

Not quiet, but it was a familiar noise. One he had grown accustomed to.

He reached for this coffee cup and idly scratched at his forearm. Damn thing had been itching like mad all day.

The cup was almost to his lips when he heard it.

Clink cliiink.

Like a penny hitting the ground. It had come from the hall outside the small kitchen.

Putting his cup back down, he rose and made his way to the door. He paused to listen before palming it open.

Nothing.

No. Wait. There.

What was that?

Stifled laughter.

His heart was beating a little faster now, and he had to wipe the sweat off his hand before touching it to the panel.

The door hissed open to reveal an empty hallway.

He took a calming breath and lifted a trembling hand to rub his eyes.

Fool, he thought to himself.

They had told him the isolation would play tricks with his mind.

He let his hand drop and made to turn back into the kitchen when a flicker caught the corner of his eye.

Was that-?

It had looked like a little girl.

Careful. So careful, he stepped into the hallway.

Flicker

There she was again. It was a little girl. Insubstantial almost.

She was walking down the hall, away from him. At the end of the corridor she turned to look back, and when she saw him, she screamed. With another flicker she vanished.

His throat was dry and he could taste fear, his pulse pounding in his ears.

Was he seeing things? Sliding down the wall, he sank to the floor and put his head into his hands. He was losing his mind, and he was losing it all at once. He had been fine yesterday, hadn’t he?

Had he?

He tried to think, but he couldn’t remember.

The itch on his wrist almost vibrated and he tore at it with frustrated anger.

Clawing his way back up, he stood and staggered down the hall.

An alarm blared and he put his hands over his ears to shut it out.

Was that real? Was the alarm real?

Something punched through the side of the ship and whipped past his head.

He stared at the fist-sized hole in the wall before the steady sound of dripping drew his eyes to his left arm.

The itch was gone, but so was his hand.

The ship rocked under a hail of meteorites.

He opened his mouth to scream and shut it.

He reached for his coffee cup and idly scratched at his forearm. Damned thing had been itching like mad all day.

The cup was almost to his lips when he heard it.