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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/StrangeAccounts on 2024-11-29 16:59:03+00:00.
They sent for me in the dead of winter. It was the season of the long night in Antarctica, when the sun refused to rise and I had no idea what to expect. Even the instructions were vague, almost cryptic, except for one clear detail: I was to report to a research outpost near the pole, isolated in the most desolate place on Earth.
As my plane landed, a storm whipped the ice, wind screeching and rattling the metal of the craft. The sky was a bruised shade of purple, and the lights from the base ahead blinked like tiny, pale stars. I felt an oppressive weight settle on my chest the moment I stepped onto the icy ground.
A young soldier, face half-hidden under a hood and goggles, approached. He looked relieved to see the priest’s collar under my thick wool coat, a good feeling despite me being clearly out of place.
“Father Martin?” he asked, his voice muffled by the scarf wrapped around his mouth.
I nodded, clutching my bag close, feeling the bite of the wind seep through every layer. “I am. And you are?”
“Corporal Haines, sir,” he replied, standing stiffly. “They’ve been waiting for you. You’re to come with me to the briefing room immediately.”
I followed, casting a last look at the endless stretch of ice, only broken by low hills and jagged cliffs in the distance. There was nothing here but emptiness and the howling wind. The silence was unlike anything I’d ever known, vast and profound, but laced with something… unsettling. I pushed the feeling aside as we reached the entrance.
Inside the outpost I was met with metal walls, harsh fluorescent lights, and soldiers in somber green coats, glancing at me with something I couldn't quite place.
We passed down narrow corridors until Haines stopped outside a heavy steel door. He knocked, and a voice inside called for us to enter. The door creaked open to reveal a man in a crisp uniform, older, with an air of authority that distinctly marked him as someone in command.
He stood when I entered, offering a sharp nod. “Father Martin,” he said, extending his hand. “Colonel Beckett. Thanks for coming.”
I shook his hand, feeling the firmness of his grip. “I wasn’t given many details, Colonel. Only that I was needed here… for something unusual.”
He exchanged a look with Haines, and I caught a flicker of discomfort in his expression. “Yes, we apologize for the secrecy. There are… certain elements of this mission we felt best to leave unsaid until you arrived.”
I raised an eyebrow, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten. “Go on.”
He hesitated, just for a moment, before continuing. “There’s a formation nearby. A cave. It’s something we found while mapping this area. Strange, enormous… almost like a natural monument. We’ve had personnel go in and out of it, but… it’s difficult to explain.”
Beckett’s gaze settled on me, and in his eyes, I saw something that chilled me to the bone. Fear.
“I think it’s best if you see it for yourself,” he said quietly.
The drive out was grim. The wind had picked up, tearing against the sides of the vehicle like it was clawing to get in. Outside, snow and ice stretched endlessly, broken only by jagged, leaden rocks protruding like the spine of some long dead giant buried beneath the white. Corporal Haines drove in silence, his hands clenched on the wheel. I sat in the back with two soldiers, neither spoke. They watched the windows, stiff, tense, as if the very land outside might put up a fight against us.
Colonel Beckett had given me minimal information before sending us off. “The cave… there’s something about it,” he’d said, staring down at a map on his desk, though I sensed he wasn’t really seeing it. “We had a team survey it when we first found it, but they didn’t get far before… before they started acting strangely. One of them even—” He broke off, and I’d seen a shadow flicker across his face.
“How do you mean, ‘acting strangely’?” I’d pressed, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer.
He looked up at me, his face set, yet his eyes betrayed something close to dread. “Degradation. Paranoia, hallucinations… one man said he felt like he was being watched. Another claimed he could hear voices whispering. They didn’t make it far into the cave before I pulled them out. It’s as though the place has a… a presence.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t put much stock into the supernatural, but my men do. They’ll feel better having a priest along.”
Now, as we drove toward that ominous formation, his words replayed in my mind. Something about it has a presence.
The soldiers and I remained silent until, finally, the vehicle stopped. Haines killed the engine, and the sudden silence was so intense it was almost violent. We stepped out into the biting wind, and there, only a few yards away, it stood.
A massive stone formation jutted out of the ice, half-buried, its shape tenebrous and abrasive against the pale landscape. It had to be about 150 feet tall and 50 feet wide. The entrance itself was a wide, black opening, rounded at the edges with jagged rocks outlining it. The snow seemed to pile around the cavern in unnatural drifts, almost as though the cave had disturbed the ice into cracking and shifting at odd, unnatural angles.
One of the soldiers, Private Mills, stood beside me, his voice low. “Doesn’t look right, does it?”
“No,” I murmured, swallowing. “It doesn’t.”
Sergeant Davis, the tallest of the group, tried to break the tension with a forced chuckle. “It’s just a weird rock formation,” he muttered, though his gaze never left the entrance. “Nothing more.”
I glanced at him, studying the tightness around his mouth, the way he clenched his rifle. They all carried their weapons as if they expected something to leap from the depths at any moment.
“Look,” Davis continued, his tone gruff as he glanced at me. “I don’t know if you really believe in any of this priest stuff, but… just stay close, alright?”
I nodded, offering what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’ll stay close.”
The men visibly relaxed, but only just. Together, we approached the mouth of the cave. Each step crunching under us while the wind muffled out all other sounds. The entrance loomed larger the closer we came, and my skin prickled with this inexplicable sensation of being watched, as if something lay behind those pitch shaded pools of emptiness and was observing us from within.
Private Mills stopped suddenly, his gaze fixed on the ground near the opening. “Look,” he whispered, and we followed his gaze. Tracks—bare footprints in the snow, leading toward the cave mouth and disappearing. The size of the prints suggested they weren't from a grown man, but rather from a child.
“Who…?” Corporal Haines began, his voice barely audible.
“No one’s been out here recently,” Sergeant Davis muttered, voice strained. “And no one goes barefoot in this weather. They’d be dead in minutes.”
I felt my hand instinctively reach for the small silver crucifix around my neck. Beckett’s words echoed in my mind. There’s something about it… a presence.
Without another word, we moved forward, stepping into the cavern’s gaping mouth. The light behind us faded rapidly, and warm, damp air seemed to seep from the walls, filling the space with an almost suffocating blanket.
The beams from our flashlights swept over the cave walls, casting long, shifting shadows that seemed to ripple with the flicker of movement. Inside, the air carrying a faint, earthy smell that reminded me of wet metal. Something about it made my skin crawl, though I couldn’t place why.
“Father,” Sergeant Davis said, his voice rough but low. He shifted on his feet, eyes avoiding mine. “Before we go deeper… maybe you could… you know, say something. For luck.”
The other soldiers nodded, their faces tense and wary in the dim glow. Despite their rifles and years of training, they looked like nervous young boys.
I nodded, gathering my words, feeling the chill settle deeper into my skin. I raised a hand, fingers grazing the crucifix that hung from my neck. "Almighty God, we place ourselves in Your hands as we walk through this place. Shield us, guide us, and let Your light be our way. Protect these men, keep them steady, and grant us the courage to see this journey through.”
As I spoke, a low, distant noise echoed through the cavern. It was faint, just a whisper of a sound, but unmistakably unnatural—a slow, grinding roll that rumbled through the walls. It was as if the stone was shifting, groaning under some unimaginable force. It lingered in the background, fading in and out like a dull protest.
The soldiers exchanged uneasy glances, gripping their weapons a little tighter. Mills spoke up, his voice soft. “You… you heard that, right? I mean, that wasn’t just me?”
“It’s probably just the earth settling,” Davis offered, though his voice rattled. “These caves are old… could be shifting ice, rocks settling, something like that.”
“Yeah,” Corporal Haines muttered, “Just rocks.”
I lowered my hand, tucking the cross back into my jacket. “We’ll be alright,” I said, though my words sounded hollow, even to my own ears.
We pressed on, single file, stepping deeper into the cave’s dark throat. The walls grew narrower, angling downward in a gradual slope. It felt oddly smooth underfoot, not jagged or broken as one would expect. Instead, it was a continuous, winding path, curving gently downward like the inside of some strange, winding funnel.
The rock itself shimmer when the flashlight beams caught it,...
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