Psychological-horror

The Meridian Drift had been silent for forty-one days when Dr. Anika Rahman noticed the crew was humming the same tune. She was the ship’s physician, and on a vessel of seven people, that meant she was also its confessor, its counselor, and its quiet keeper of secrets. The Meridian Drift was a long, slow needle threaded through the dark between Kepler-442 and home. Eleven months out, nine months to go. The crew ran in rotation, two on watch while the rest slept in cryo-lite, the shallow s...

I The letter arrived on a Tuesday, damp at the corners as though it had traveled through rain that no calendar remembered. Eleanor Voss turned it over twice before she opened it, because the handwriting on the front was her aunt’s, and her aunt had been dead for six years. She read it three times standing in the hallway of her small London flat, coat still buttoned, before she understood what it was asking of her. Not a message from beyond, nothing so theatrical as that. The letter had...