Byrd Station

May 11, 1964, Byrd Station, Antarctica, first day of the polar night.

The harsh wind bit into every exposed inch of Thomas Mitchell’s skin as he stood on the edge of the station platform, looking out at the vast expanse of snow and ice in the dark. The station’s creaky metal flag, adorned with the American stars and stripes, flapped vigorously in the icy gusts, producing a rhythmic clicking sound.

“Headed to the drilling site, Tom?” Called out Dr. Eleanor Martinez, the station’s chief geologist, as she made her way towards him. She was a stout woman with a ruddy complexion.

He nodded, adjusting his goggles, “Wanted to get an early start. Those ice cores won’t collect themselves.”

She chuckled, her breath forming frosty clouds. “Just remember, it’s not just about the depth. We need pristine untouched samples.”

Thomas smiled, although it was mostly hidden behind his thick scarf. “I’ve been dreaming of those cores, Ellie. Don’t worry.”

As Thomas revved the snowmobile’s engine, Eleanor stepped back, shielding her eyes from the flying snow. With a final wave, Thomas sped off into the black icy abyss.

When he got out to the drill site the rig was positioned in the same spot, he’d left it yesterday. He killed the snowmobiles engine and the silence enveloping him immediately, but it was short lived as he fired up the drill rig and the roar cut through the silence with an explosion of sound. He moved the drill rig a short distance away and the GPS chimed happily when he was positioned over the correct location. Today he was drilling the deepest they’d ever gone, nearly seven hundred feet, and the samples he collected would be the oldest specimens they’d ever retrieved. As he began drilling Thomas did what he usually did to pass the time and began to

sing a song to himself.

About three and a half hours later Thomas had successfully retrieved the samples, and upon his return, Eleanor was waiting for him inside the core lab.

“How did it go?” she asked, her eyes scanning the collection of ice cores.

“Smoothly,” Thomas replied, “Got all the samples you asked for…and there’s one, from the deepest layer, that I’m excited about. It had a few interestingly colored layers that I saw when I opened the rods to check the recovery.”

They began the slow process of cataloging and analyzing the cores. It was a routine they had followed countless times before: melting a portion of the ice, analyzing its gas content, mineral traces, and any other anomalies. However, this time, the sample from the deepest ice core, the one Thomas had taken a particular interest in, showed a strange organic structure when viewed under the microscope—an oddly shaped protein sheath, surrounded by spikes, quite unlike anything either of them had seen before.

“Fascinating,” Eleanor murmured, her eyes fixed on the microscope. “It’s not any microorganism I’m familiar with.”

Thomas leaned in for a look, his fingers absentmindedly rubbing his eyes. “It’s beautiful, in a way,”

Eleanor got on her radio and called for the station’s resident microbiologist, Dr. Sarah Collin, who moments later burst into the lab, her cheeks flushed. She glanced at the strange structure under the microscope and raised an eyebrow. 

"What have we got here?" Sarah asked. She adjusted her glasses and reached for the sample, carefully taking over the examination. Sarah continued to study the mysterious structure. Her brows furrowed as she adjusted the microscope's focus. After a few moments, she sat back and took off her glasses, her expression a mixture of awe and concern.

"This isn't a microorganism," she said slowly. "It's something else entirely. It looks like a virus, but the complexity of the protein sheath and the spikes... it's unlike any virus I've ever seen."

“It’s a virus?” Thomas said, some concern etched in his features.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s dead obviously, there’s no risk to us at-- “

Suddenly Thomas sneezed forcefully, and a glob of mucus shot out his nose and onto the table next to the microscope. Silence filled the room and Eleanor and Sarah leaned back slightly away from Thomas.

Eleanor spoke up first, eyes squinting, “Sarah…how sure are you?”

“Let me just take one more look at it…oh fuck its moving!” Sarah stared in shock as the strange viral structure under the microscope started to writhe and shift. The protein sheath appeared to be undulating, and the spikes were moving in a coordinated manner. It was as if the virus were coming back to life before her very eyes.

Sarah, her voice laced with tension, said, “Eleanor, call a lockdown, we need to quarantine the entire station now before this gets out of hand.”

Thomas, Eleanor, and Sarah carefully sealed the infected ice core in a containment unit and donned protective suits. But it was clear something was happening to Thomas; he had begun coughing and sneezing up a storm in the few minutes that had transpired. They sent Thomas in his protective suit to quarantine in his room alone.

As the sunless day dragged on Thomas' condition continued to worsen with every passing hour, barely a few scant hours since his exposure and he was half delirious with a high fever and his skin had taken on a pallid hue. Sarah approached the door to his room and shouted through her protective gear, "Thomas, can you hear me? How are you feeling?"

Thomas's voice came out weak and strained, "I... I don't know, Sarah. My head is pounding, and I can't stop shivering. It's like the cold is seeping into my bones."

Soon after that, Sarah got sick and began coughing up blood, and less than twelve hours later at least a third of the station’s inhabitants had fallen ill with varying symptoms. Everyone was quarantined in their rooms, but it seemed as if the virus was airborne. The medical staff on hand had fallen ill hours ago and were similarly incapacitated. Eleanor, realizing the severity of the situation and she was now sick herself, radioed for a medical evacuation.

Eleanor coughed, a wet sickly gasping sound, “Hello? Can anyone hear me?”

They weren’t due for a visit from the US Navy for at least a week. The radio crackled with static, and for a moment, it seemed like there would be no reply. Finally, a faint voice came through, distant and distorted, the voice was in Russian but luckily Eleanor spoke a little Russian and understood most of what was said.

“This is Arctic Wolf, USSR Navy, to whom am I speaking?”

"This is Dr. Eleanor Martinez from Byrd Station, Antarctica," she said urgently. "We're in a critical situation here. We have a virus... something we found in the ice cores. It's infected almost everyone, and it's spreading fast. We need help. We need a medical evacuation, supplies, anything you can send."

“A virus? Hold on.” The voice on the other end crackled again before responding and Eleanor could hear garbled shouting through the line.

“Dr. Martinez, this is Captain Yuri Ivanov. We will send a helicopter, with medical supplies. They should reach you in approximately 12-15 hours. Goodbye and good luck.”

Yuri slammed down the radio transmitter and said, “Send a message to the Americans that their Byrd Station needs a rescue team.”

15 Hours Later

As the Russian helicopter touched down on the ice outside Byrd Station the small team inside immediately noticed that all the lights were out. The whole place looked dead. The medical resupply team, led by Captain Yuri, cautiously disembarked from the helicopter with his soldiers. The harsh Antarctic winds howled around them as they approached the darkened station, their breath visible in the frigid air.

Captain Yuri radioed back to the helicopter, “Ivan, take off in fifteen minutes, if we're not back by then I want you to leave us here.”

“But sir- “

“Do as your told, soldier.”

“Yes, Sir, fifteen minutes, Sir," Ivan sputtered.

Ivan watched from the helicopter as the small group made their way towards the Station’s front entrance, the sound of the swishing blades as they slowed down and the cold began to set in quickly in the dark.

Dimitri was first to the entrance and found the door slightly open, but it was frozen in that position and wouldn’t open further. Dimitri strained against the frozen door, his breath visible in the dim light of his flashlight. With the help of another soldier, Olga, the door creaked open. Inside it was pitch black, their flashlights revealed an eerie mess of equipment and frozen papers lying strewn about on the floor, and the sickly-sweet odor of illness hung in the air.

Inside the Station they turned a corner and quickly reached the lab where they analyzed the ice cores and the sight that greeted them was horrifying. The lab was a mess, equipment was scattered, and bloodstains were visible on the floor and the tables. Then, something moved in the icy darkness. An odd sort of shuffling sound, papers falling onto the floor, the tinkling of glass. A figure was standing in the corner facing the opposite wall. The beam of light trembled slightly as it swept over the back of the figure.

The figure turned and a terrible ear-splitting screeching noise came out of its throat. Its skin was so pale it was tinged blue, and its eyes were blood red. Olga hoisted her semi-automatic Makarov PM and opened fire on the creature. The bullets tore through the thing in an explosion of bloody mist, but the thing staggered forward, and, in a flash, it had bitten into the side of Olga’s neck. Olga’s screams echoed through the corridors of Byrd Station as the creature clung to her. Blood splattered the walls as the rest of the team recoiled in terror.

Captain Yuri screamed,” Open fire!” and raised his rifle, firing into the creature’s chest. It stumbled back releasing Olga who collapsed in a heap clutching her bleeding neck gasping for air as she began to choke on blood.

“Is it dead?” Dimitri whispered, as one of the other soldiers quickly dragged Olga away and tried to administer aid, as the creature lay twitching on the floor. But before Yuri could answer the creature stirred in jerky unnatural movements, it began to stand up. Dark wet blood was smeared all along the creature's front and as it stood it opened its bloodied mouth and screamed again revealing a long row of razor-sharp fangs. With a guttural growl, it lunged at them, only to be met with a hail of bullets that finally silenced it.

Then in the distance, a chorus of screams tore through the halls of the Station. Ivanov immediately turned to Olga, who was pale and trembling. “We need to get her back to the helicopter, now!” he ordered, his voice tense. As they hoisted Olga between them and rushed out of the room the chorus of screams intensified.

In the hallway they were attacked by three more creatures moving with jerky but unnatural agility. One jumped onto the ceiling and began crawling towards them.

“Oh God,” Dimitri cried out, and tried to raise his rifle but Olga, barely conscious and losing blood rapidly, was a dead weight in his arms. The gunfire was deafening in the closed space of the hallway as the other soldiers opened fire on the creatures, trying to protect Dimitri and Olga.

Yuri’s radio clicked and Ivan's voice could barely be heard above the noise, “Captain! What's happening, I hear gunfire! Sir, are you there?” But Captain Yuri couldn't respond, he’d been clawed in the leg by another one of the creatures before he blew its brains out with a pistol. They were losing soldiers to the beasts left and right, and soon there were only three people left, Dimitri, Olga, and Captain Yuri. 

Yuri saw a door to a sleeping quarter and pulled Dimitri and Olga into the room and slammed and locked the door. The creatures screamed outside and pounded on the steel. Dimitri tried to check on Olga, but he quickly realized she was dead. Stone cold dead. He slowly lowered her to the floor and placed a hand over her eyes, closing them.

Yuri limped over to a ceiling vent and pried oven the cover, “Here, we may be able to bypass them.” Dimitri took one more look at Olga and then scurried into the vent with Yuri close behind him, grimacing in pain.

The vent was cramped and dark, the only sound their labored breathing and the roar of the creatures all around them, the metal ducts icy and unyielding against their hands and knees. As they neared the other end of the vent they slowed and Yuri spoke, “What do you see, Dimitri?”

“Nothing,” and so Dimitri pushed the grate open, the sounds of the creatures now somewhat distant. They fell out into a hallway that seemed relatively undisturbed by the creatures and quickly found signs for an exit and headed towards it. Finally, they staggered towards a side door and threw it open, the cold arctic air biting at their faces as they emerged and trudged through the snow in the near pitch-black dark around the edge of the Station as quickly as possible giving it a wide berth. But then a scream echoed from behind them, and Olga emerged from out of the station. It was clear she had transformed into one of the beasts by her jerky uncoordinated movements. 

 “Run!” Yuri screamed, pushing Dimitri forward, as he fell under Olga’s onslaught of claws and fangs.

Ivan saw Dimitri coming from a short distance away and fired up the Helicopter, shouting obscenities. Dimitri barreled into the open helicopter and screamed “Go, Go, Go!”

The helicopter lifted off just in time as Olga ran towards it, the still form of Yuri lay a way behind her, unmoving. Dimitri clutched the side of the seat as he watched Olga’s crimson red eyes and snarling face grow smaller in the distance.

“What the hell? What was that thing?” Ivan said, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he expertly maneuvered the helicopter into the air and away from the station. Dimitri stared out into the dark, his heart still racing, trying to come to terms with what had happened.

“It was Olga…”

“Olga? How?”

“There were monsters in there, something changed them….”

Ivan tried to pry more information out of Dimitri but to no avail, and Dimitri sat in silence the entire rest of the ride back to the carrier ship. Ivan radioed ahead and Rear Admiral Aleksandr Ivanovich Kuznetsov was waiting for them when Dimitri and Ivan stepped out of the helicopter.

“What the hell happened to Captain Yuri and the rest of the squad?” He asked as soon as he reached them.

“There were…monsters sir.” Dimitri said slowly.

“That's nonsense. Did the Americans attack you? There's no other explanation for-”

“No, Sir, I saw it with my own two eyes! Olga turned into a monster and killed Captain Yuri.” Ivan said.

Rear Admiral Kuznetsov crossed his arms sternly and surveyed the two young soldiers in front of him. In all his years he never would have believed his ears but there was a look in Dimitri’s eyes that gave the Rear Admiral pause.

He turned to the soldier next to him and said, “Mikhail, tell comms to get the Americans on the line, go through the emergency channel.”

“What should I tell them sir?” Mikhail looked confused.

“Tell them that the medical team we sent out was killed with two survivors. Say nothing of the monsters. Tell them if they don't want a war on their hands, they owe us a proper explanation.”

“Yes, sir,” Mikhail turned and double timed it towards the communications tower.

Rear Admiral Kuznetsov turned to the two survivors “Go to med bay, get yourselves cleaned up.”

“Yes sir,” Dimitri mumbled.

Ivan was about to speak when he sneezed, and a big glob of bloody mucus coated the front of jacket.

The End.