BLACKFROST - Site 44A
The cold was merciless in Antarctica. Blizzards howled across a barren landscape of ice and silence. Hidden far from any city or outpost stood a forgotten facility, partially buried beneath years of snowstorms. Once a hub of forbidden science, it now looked like a tomb.
The faded sign on the wall barely read:
"BLACKFROST - Site 44A"
Inside this ruin of steel and frost, scientists had once conducted illegal xenobiology experiments. No one had heard from them in months.
August 25, 2016
An international task force arrived. Among them were Argentinian officers and Japanese specialists. Their mission was prompted by a biologist who had escaped and reported horrific events within the facility. The team arrived with caution, accompanied by military escort.
The base interior was in ruins. Walls were clawed and torn, lights flickered, and doors were either jammed or left wide open. Every corridor breathed abandonment, but not peace. Something had gone very wrong.
In one of the deeper chambers, Officer Kenichi Tanaka wandered into the specimen preservation lab. The preserved organisms were untouched, their containment tanks intact. Shattered jars covered the floor, leaking thick, glowing liquid. He stared into one tank that still contained a pulsating black form, its surface rippling as if aware of his presence.
Luciano Reyes, a seasoned Argentinian field agent, radioed from the hangar.
"We're regrouping in ten. Grab what you can."
Kenichi didn't reply. He simply kept staring.
—
Onboard the plane
After takeoff, the team was quiet. Some dozed off, others secured their evidence. Kenichi sat alone near the back, legs shaking and fingers twitching. He hadn't said a word since leaving the facility.
Luciano noticed.
"Are you okay?" he asked, leaning in.
Kenichi didn't respond. He only stared, as if looking through him.
"Hey?" Luciano tried again, but still received nothing.
"I'm not in the mood for your jokes," he muttered and looked away.
Then came a voice. A whisper.
"Don't worry."
Luciano turned slowly. Kenichi smiled. Not with warmth, but with something cold and hollow.
"Don't worry," he said again.
Luciano stood quickly and grabbed the radio.
"Officer Luciano to the cockpit. Something's wrong with Officer Kenichi. We need to land."
But as he turned back, Kenichi repeated the same sentence, mimicking Luciano's voice perfectly.
"Officer Luciano to the cockpit. Something's wrong with Officer Kenichi. We need to land."
His voice matched the accent, rhythm, and tone exactly. Then he slammed his head into the plane's window. A loud crack followed. Blood splattered across the glass.
Luciano shouted for help. Officers drew their weapons but hesitated. He begged them not to shoot, hoping Kenichi might regain himself.
"He might be possessed," someone whispered.
Kenichi's head snapped toward Luciano. Without warning, he lunged and bit into Luciano's hand. Skin peeled back. Blood sprayed.
Luciano screamed.
One of the officers fired. The bullet struck Kenichi in the head, dropping him instantly. Panic broke out in the cabin. The pilots struggled to keep control as chaos filled the plane. Officers surrounded the body, weapons raised, unsure what might happen next.
Luciano sat bleeding, his hand wrapped in a makeshift bandage. The wound bubbled strangely, the blood beneath his skin shifting in color from red to a sickly iridescent hue.
"Something's not right," one investigator muttered, examining the body.
Kenichi's veins glowed faintly. The fluid from his skull hissed as it touched the floor. Then, without warning, his body jerked. Arms flailed. Eyes burst open. He let out a high-pitched shriek that pierced the ears of everyone onboard. The officers unloaded their weapons, but even as bullets tore through him, the body kept twitching until it finally fell silent again.
Luciano watched, breathing heavily. His vision blurred.
"It's inside him now," he whispered.
—
Back at BLACKFROST
In the cold dark lab, the preserved organism in the final tank twitched once more. A faint crack spread across the glass.
A red light blinked in the control panel.
—
To be continued.