Nine hundred times farther from the Sun than Earth, a tug captain has spent nineteen years cutting comets into ice for worlds he will never see. When his engineer's scan finds a hollow comet with a round, seamless door set into its pole, he breaks his company contract and orders all nine of his men inside to learn who built it.
Beyond the door, a shaft falls forty levels into ever heavier gravity, past galleries walled with sealed stone niches. Tall, eyeless machines walk those halls without hurry, and they answer only one thing: stillness. Anyone who sits, kneels, or nods off is lifted on gentle padded hands, laid in the wall, and sealed in alive, and every cut made to free them brings a swarm to close it again.
Now the crew must climb back toward the door on bodies weakened by years without gravity, with dwindling air, no sleep, and the voices of the men they left behind still asking over the radio how close the cutters are. The captain promised to come back for them, and with every step up the stair he has to decide what that promise is worth.
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This story is a work of fiction created for entertainment purposes only. The events, characters, and organizations portrayed are entirely fictional, and any references to governmental bodies, entities, or individuals are not intended to represent reality. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real-life events or organizations is purely coincidental.
#scifi #scifihorror #creepypasta
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