The Silence Between Screams: A Descent Through Alien

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The silence here is my own making, a thick, suffocating blanket.
It reminds me of deep space—where no one can hear you scream.
Or maybe it’s just fear, twisting yesterday’s events into a haze where only one thing is certain:

The static in the air still hums with her name.

I hadn’t said her name since ‘97.
That’s what I believed. A sealed memory. Locked away.

But yesterday… Val was here.
She called me by name… and looked at me like I was already gone.
And I—I didn’t remember how we got there.
I didn’t remember what we talked about.

Let’s descend into this dread together, shall we?


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🎵 Song of the Day: “Subterraneans” – David Bowie
(Play it. Let it seep into the silence like deep-space dread. Let it hum with the knowledge that something’s always watching from the dark.)


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A Familiar Dread

This feeling—this cold, suffocating isolation—dragged me back to the Nostromo.

Watching Alien again wasn’t comfort. It was confession.

That ship, drifting through space, isn’t just a setting. It’s a feeling.
Recycled air. Lights that hum like something is breathing behind the walls.
A crawling dread that builds in your ribs and never lets go.


---

The Intimate Horror

But the ship is just a vessel.
The real terror? It’s internal. Quiet. Patient.

The monster isn’t the point.
It’s the knowledge that it’s already inside you.
The betrayal of your own body. The slow realization that something is growing where it doesn’t belong.

I feel it now—like something inside me is learning how to take over…
without ever waking me up.


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The Shifting Past

Val was here.
Standing in the doorway. Calling me by name.
Looking at me like I’d already left.

But was it yesterday? Or decades ago?

The edges of time are soft now.
Memories blur. Conversations loop. Words shift in tone and meaning.

I thought I hadn’t said her name in decades.
Now I’m not even sure she ever left.
Or if she ever existed at all.


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The Unseen Transformation

The true horror isn’t loud. It doesn’t announce itself.
It rewrites you when you’re not looking. Your thoughts. Your voice. Your memories.

This thing… whatever it is…
It doesn’t just take over.
It makes you forget what was there before.

I find pieces of myself in static-filled recordings. In blinking lights.
In the things I used to know for sure.


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The Descent Continues

I don’t know what this is.

I just know it’s not over.
Not yet.


---

Into the Abyss

The veil is thinning.
Are you ready to truly see what lurks in the shadows?

Join me as we descend deeper into the unknown.

🕯️ Share your own shadows—your favorite scary movie, a chilling urban legend, or a memory that refuses to fade.

Subscribe to The Nightly Storyteller.
Because this is just the beginning.

👉 thenightlystoryteller.blogspot.com



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