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Between Ice and Stars – Creepypasta


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Estimated reading time — 14 minutes

1905, Antarctica

The hull of the ship moaned and groaned beneath the pressure of its frozen enclave. HMS Stargazer and its crew had initially set out into the deep unknown to map uncharted territories, however winter descended shortly upon them and they discovered themselves trapped between stars and ice for months. Supplies have been operating thin and the captain of the ship, a tall and clean shaven gentleman by the identify of Gerald Northington, had assembled groups of hunters to venture out in the hunt for seal meat. The newest searching expedition had yet to return and Northington was pacing anxiously up and down his quarters.

A knock on the door. His first mate, William Ward, referred to as him. He was a gruff man with a robust jawline, harsh mutton-chops, and darkish eyes, and the hard-boiled character to match his tough seems to be.

“Sir, the hunting party has returned. John Hopkins is dead. The rest are in the bridge of the ship.”

The 2 males made their method as much as the bridge, where they have been greeted by the shivering and mumbling searching social gathering. Probably the most resolute of the group stood up and took it upon himself to report the happenings of the tragic tour.

“We spotted a seal on the other side of the big frozen lake, the one near the ship. We tracked it down and we decided to split in order to flank it. We managed to ambush and wound the seal, but John was nowhere to be found. We searched for him across the northern coast of the lake, and we eventually found him near the opening of a cavern.”

The sailor took a moment to regain his composure.

“It was too late. He was already stiff, clutching in his hands this damnable statue. We did the decent thing and carried him to this ship, so he can rest under British sails.”

“He is now in Dr. Edgar’s office, getting an autopsy,” William, the primary mate, interjected.

“Alright. Gentlemen, my condolences. Get some much-deserved rest now,” Captain Northington motioned to the searching celebration. With that, Northington and Ward made their solution to Dr. Philip Edgar’s workplace.

The 2 males entered the infirmary, a claustrophobic, dreary previous room. The dim mild from a lone candle revealed neatly shelved flasks and vials, and a set of leather-bound, worn books stacked upon a chairless desk within the corner of the small room.

Hunched over a pull-down table was Dr. Philip Edgar, a tall and lean man, with pale white skin and grey eyes. He had a solemn look on his face as he examined John Hopkins’ corpse. The body of the deceased sailor had taken a hue of an otherworldly mild blue and his skin was frigid. The sailor bore the singular mark of inexorable madness, with large open eyes and mouth agape, his face carved into a masks of abyssal dread.

Most peculiarly, the man was clutching in his arms a crude statuette. The idol was jet black and depicted some anthropomorphic creature within the fetal position. The man’s fingers have been frozen in place and eradicating the thing risked breaking the fingers off.

“So, what is the verdict?” the captain requested as calmly as he might muster.

“He died from a heart attack. Extreme shock and exertion, I imagine. No signs of ill health or struggle.”

The captain nodded gravely. “Put him in the storage bay, and we will bury him first thing in the morning.”

* * * * * *

That night time a hazy mist of unrest fell upon the stranded ship. The creaking of the hull, the scattering footsteps, echoes of whispers and the demise of considered one of their own loomed tall over the crew. Sleep didn’t come straightforward, and when it came it was restless and riddled with nightmares of empty skies and bottomless seas.

The sunless morning found HMS Stargazer and its males in a bleak state. Ft dragging throughout the ground and faces stooped low and haggardly, the crew gathered in their dining area for a depressing breakfast of dry bread and olive paste. Then they went on their typical enterprise of basic ship maintenance.

Captain Northington watched over them because the crew pressed on, the plague of their state of affairs weighing heavy on their slouched shoulders. They have been all his duty, and he had vowed to return every and every certainly one of them protected to their houses. Last night time he had to come to grips with the crushing realization this was a failing endeavor. With a heavy heart, he ordered two crew-members and Dr. Edgar to go and fetch the physique of John Hopkins. He was to be buried with the dignity and dignity this god-forsaken land allowed. In a shallow grave of snow and ice.

Northington and the remaining crew had gathered outdoors, ready in sepulchral silence to place one in every of their own beneath. The minutes passed excruciatingly sluggish. The members of the crew have been throwing sideways glances at one another, rising increasingly uneasy and agitated.

Then, Dr. Edgar appeared above deck and made his method to the gathering. With trembling ft, he moved as much as his captain, leaned in and whispered something in a frail tone. The remainder of the crew watched as the captain’s face morphed right into a grimace of confusion.

“Show me,” he ordered the physician.

The two men left the group and made their option to the storage bay, the place John’s physique rested. The door was open and the two males despatched alongside Dr. Edgar have been stood at either aspect of the doorframe.

“S-sire, this is how we found it,” considered one of them uttered, feeble and pale.

The captain entered the storage bay and was greeted by the image that shook his men. The bay was in a state of disarray. Crates have been damaged, sacks have been reduce open, barrels have been flung throughout the room and the ground was ridden with stray apples, potatoes and an assortment of greens, fruits, and meats.

Most distressingly, John’s physique had vanished!

* * * * * *

After a fruitless seek for the body, the crew retreated under deck as nighttime rolled in. Haunted by the mystery of the lacking corpse, the sailors laid sleepless on their swaying hammocks, with eyes darting around and peering into the impenetrable darkness.

Physician Edgar, in his cabin, was sitting up on his bed. The squeaking of the ship was grinding his composure to a pulp and each time the ship settled his coronary heart would bounce to his throat. But worst of all was the scattering of footsteps, echoing unnaturally outdoors his room as if crabs have been skipping their method across the picket flooring. The doctor had his eyes fastened intently on his door, virtually anticipating it to fly open any moment and ghouls of the deep to storm his room.

Then, the footsteps abruptly stopped and the night time went silent. Even the moaning of the ship had ceased. The stillness of the night time was broken only by hushed voices. The doctor, bewildered by the strange whispers, slowly obtained up and approached the door. He placed his ear upon the wooden and listened rigorously. Harsh voices speaking in alien and arcane tongues crammed his ears. He stood there for what felt like hours, eavesdropping on the maddening serpentine chants, till the whispering stopped and their footsteps trailed off into the space.

Edgar, either by devilish curiosity or divine vigor, grabbed a lantern and opened the door. The fierce darkness outdoors greeted him. The doctor steeled himself and lit his lantern, the sunshine sending flickering shadows dancing up the partitions, and walked down the best way he thought the figures outdoors his door had gone. The slender corridors appeared to be getting narrower and narrower and from the cabins on his left and right, Edgar heard no sound. He felt completely alone in his bubble of light until the clacking of footsteps echoed on his left. Edgar went utterly still, masking his lantern as greatest he might together with his robe. From a corner additional down the primary corridor, a faint mild broke the darkness. At its middle, Edgar spotted the prepare dinner, who checked out him and sighed in aid.

“You heard them too?” the prepare dinner whispered.

Edgar nodded.

“They went this way. Come!” the prepare dinner urged him on.

The 2 males made their approach down the bowels of the ship, which creaked hoarsely beneath their trembling footsteps. The sunshine of their lanterns illuminated the darkish corridors, which seemed to close in on them the additional down the abyss they delved. They soldiered on, aspect by aspect, their willpower to put an end to this trumping their rising worry.

Once they reached the stairs leading down, they observed a peculiar clue. Snowy footsteps and puddles of water. The lads checked out one another, and without uttering a word, descended further down.

They have been now on the storage bay, which was made up of a giant hall with small rooms, once crammed to the brim with provides, on both aspect. A low rumbling sound reverberated from the top of the corridor, and virtually imperceptible mumbling. The lads seemed down the bay, and they might simply make out a quivering candlelight escaping one tiny room. Slowly they made their approach in the direction of it, the sounds of rhythmic chanting getting louder and louder. The door was barely ajar and the prepare dinner pushed it open.

The dully illuminated room was a scene of unfathomable horror. 5 sailors have been huddled in a circle, raving in unpronounceable tongues. The one on the prime of the circle wore a decent leather bag over his head, whereas the remaining sported piercings of tooth across their faces. Behind them, propped up towards the wall, was the corpse of John Hopkins! His skin was stretched across his face and his hair was frozen in thick patches. His eyes have been open broad and his mouth was caught right into a toothless grin. On the ground have been scattered symbols drawn in blood and candles that burned with an unholy mild.

In the midst of the ritualistic patterns was a small, black statue of an anthropomorphic creature. The identical infernal statuette John Hopkins was found gripping in rigor mortis! The mad sailors had damaged off the cadaver’s fingers, which have been strewn throughout the room, to rip the idol from his grasp.

Directly the sailors turned in the direction of the two intruders and hissed with rabid fervor, saliva dripping on the ground. The man in the impromptu leather masks raised his arms within the air and shouted in his forbidden language. The opposite pack members jumped on the prepare dinner, scratching and biting in a primal assault, subduing him and dragging him down. A bloodcurdling scream escaped the prepare dinner’s lungs. The doctor, in a haze, turned and ran away, shouting for assist.

The captain was sitting at his desk, downing a glass of brandy when the shrieks broke the silence of the night time. He instantly grabbed the gun sitting at his aspect and strode out. There he met William Ward, his first mate.

“It’s coming from below deck, sir!” Ward spoke and the 2 men ran after the sound.

“Stay put, all of you!” Ward shouted at the sailors, who have been peeking out of corners making an attempt to discern what was happening.

As they have been reaching the stairs to the storage bay, the physician fell on them, his eyes extensive with horror.

“Compose yourself, lad! What is going on?” Captain Northington grabbed Edgar’s shoulders, making an attempt to shake him out of his daze. The doctor tried to talk, however no words got here out. He might only level faintly in the direction of the supply of his terror, before collapsing on the ground. The captain and his first mate stomped down the steps, guns shining with fiery justice.

The sound of munching and crunching stopped abruptly once the two men approached the candlelit room. A sailor, his clothes ragged and torn, walked out on all fours and stared at them, his eyes vibrant with madness, earlier than galloping in the direction of them with a wild screech. The captain might only stare with mouth agape at this monstrosity, but Ward found the braveness to take a shot, which hit the sailor straight between the eyes. Then, the primary mate moved ahead, adopted by the nonetheless shell-shocked captain.

As they received closer, three other males walked out, licking their lips hungrily, blood and gore spilling from their mouths. Ward shot considered one of them in the torso and aimed for the subsequent one. On the similar time, the bulkiest of the sailors made a run for the captain and tackled him to the ground. Northington struggled with the beastly man, who bit and clawed at him, the stench of recent meat emanating from his mouth. Finally, Northington broke free and hit the sailor with the butt of his pistol, again and again until he was hardly recognizable. At the similar time, one other shot echoed in the storage bay, and with a flash, the final sailor fell.

The 2 men composed themselves and stared at each other with disbelief, before shifting to the entrance of the room from the place these demons had come from.

There they discovered the half-eaten, disemboweled corpse of John Hopkins, and behind it the leather-masked man on his knees clutching the black statuette, reciting unearthly psalms. The man didn’t react to the intrusion and when a bullet was shot by means of his skull, he fell backward in silence, his diabolical monologue reaching an abrupt ending.

The statuette fell down exhausting, making a dent on the picket flooring. The 2 males stood on prime of it in silence. The small item seemed to have a wierd pull on their psyche. Their minds have been full of blurry visions of cyclopean cities and fallen stars, of shadowy figures and unearthed tombs. Then, an image rose above the others with crystal clarity. That of a frozen cave, throbbing with antediluvian malice.

No phrase was exchanged, for the lads knew what they had to do. They had to return the wretched statuette to that abhorrent cave.

Once they reached the upper deck, an eerie stillness enveloped them. They took tentative steps ahead once they felt motion on their aspect. Ward grabbed a lantern and shone it down the corridor. A gaggle of sailors scattered away at the shining of the sunshine. The captain and his first mate slowly made their method across the deck, Northington holding the statuette in a white-knuckled grip. Throughout them they might really feel eyes gazing them from the darkness. In the midst of the deck, the doctor, lantern at hand, was waiting for them, fidgeting and leaping at every and each motion and sound.

“S-sir, the men… they have gone mad!” the doctor whimpered.

“Come with us lad. We are going to put an end to this foulness,” the captain stated sternly.

The three men walked down the primary hall, the possessed sailors surrounding them from the oppressive darkness. Some have been shifting alongside them, our bodies twitching and twisting, others have been talking in raspy voices, whispering unnatural incantations, while others have been simply leering behind a fish-eyed masks.

When the group received nearer to the steps, the whole crew had gathered around them, eyes frenzied with starvation and drool dripping from their mouths. The light appeared to maintain them at bay, but they have been getting extra and extra confident with every step. Each time a sudden motion was made, the gang would jolt and get nearer.

With the captain in the lead, the lads pressed on. Edgar, regardless of the chattering of his tooth, had managed to remain composed up till one sailor referred to as out his mom’s identify with a grave growl. The doctor shivered and jumped, which brought on a ruckus within the crowd, the lads wailing and shivering in anticipation. A man broke from the remaining and with a feverish yelp jumped for the statuette. Ward plucked him from the air and punched him violently on his nose, which exploded right into a bloody mess. The first mate shot a vicious look into the gang and swung the lantern round, forcing them to recoil back into the shadows.

The three men hastened their tempo and moved swiftly up the stairs to the highest deck, the crew trailing behind them lethargically. They made their strategy to the bridge, and from there they left the ship. The crew, as if surprised by a spell, stopped their pursuit. Amidst the snowfall, their unmoving figures peered down on the three males from atop the ship.

William Ward led the group onto the frozen lake in the direction of the cave. The elements raged around them, nature itself bent on stopping passage. The lads fought by way of, pushed on by unnatural and unexplainable forces. Upon reaching the doorway of the cave, exhausted and crushed by the tough wind, the pull on their self had grown far too robust. Unblinking and unfazed by the approaching hazard forward, they entered. The entrance, much akin to a maw of an ideal beast with stalactite tooth and jaws manufactured from rock, swallowed them entire.

The descent into the depths of this hell was an arduous one, for the hostile terrain stored slashing and stabbing away at them. At occasions they had to transfer sideways into the claustrophobic corridors, or move crouched near the bottom. The silent arteries of the cavern led them additional down, the place they might sometimes spot a torn material from John’s apparel, confirming that they have been certainly on the proper path. After a very slender passage, the lads stepped foot in a big opening. The ceiling of the cavern was shrouded in darkness, and the light of their lanterns didn’t even reach the walls of this opening.

Led by their captain, the lads moved in the direction of the middle of this abyss. There, an altar was revealed. Two giant sarcophagi, one black and one white, sat in the midst of an ideal circle drawn in a crimson powder. An array of books and small statues, very similar to the one John Hopkins carried, have been neatly placed at the ft of the sarcophagi. This was a tomb from out of time, which pulsated with a malignant power. The captain stepped forth and into the circle, letting the statuette drop on the floor. He moved as much as the black coffin and observed it intently.

The resting place of no matter was within was adorned with elaborate carvings of stars, cities and runes. What caught the captain’s attention, though, have been depictions of bipedal creatures. Some have been standing in fields, others above the walls of a divine palace, others have been driving chariots and others have been working machines of know-how far superior.

He ran his palm over the intricately engraved lid, feeling the chiseled stone underneath his skin and letting the wave of eons previous wash over him.

His trance was damaged by a loud thud, which echoed like thunder around the cavern. Northington seemed over and saw Ward, eyes large and unblinking, wanting into the opened white sarcophagus, its lid resting on the aspect. In a match of madness, the first mate had pushed it off! Cracking was heard from inside the sarcophagus, and a white talon shot up and stabbed Ward in the chest, retreating back inside and letting the poor man fall to the bottom. The 2 remaining males might solely stare, drenched in dread, as a white, slim figure rose up from its resting place. The anthropomorphic, bipedal creature was standing tall above the lads, its head elongated and its eyes whiter than snow. It moved clankily in the direction of the black sarcophagus and with a swift motion, it threw the lid away. Then it waited.

A black hand with sharp claws grabbed the sting of the sarcophagus. A beast just like the primary one, but black and bulkier, stood up. It towered over the captain, who might only stare in disbelief as an extended claw struck his neck, cleanly slicing flesh and pores and skin. Blood spurted out of the wound because the beast grabbed the captain from the shoulder and lifted him up to meet its gaze. Then, it introduced its face closer, its maw opening broad. A fleshy tube emerged from the creature’s mouth, approaching the newly opened incision. Then, it spilled a myriad of black insectoids down the wound, which crawled beneath Northington’s skin and disappeared in his physique. The captain’s lifeless corpse was dropped to the bottom.

At that, the doctor started operating, his coronary heart pounding closely towards his chest. He ran by way of jagged grounds and slender passages, the arduous edges tearing at his garments and pores and skin. Pushed on by worry most primal, he flew up the tough terrain and reached the opening of the cave, his thoughts in shambles.

He stumbled out, his knees buckling beneath the load of the horror within the cavern and his eyes burning with the travesty that had unfolded. Outdoors no snow was falling and no wind was blowing, as if nature herself cowered away from this damned corner of the earth. The sky above laid naked and starless, a heavy veil of blackness over the pale ice.

In his derelict state, Edgar stepped on the ice and started strolling aimlessly additional down the maw of nothingness. He should have been walking for ages in the direction of the monochromatic horizon, when a crack echoed throughout the air and despatched shockwaves down the ice. Then another cracking sound, and another, and another. When the sounds merged into one crescendo of cacophony, the floor in front of Edgar exploded.

When the storm of ice shards settled, a gargantuan head was revealed. A wonderfully symmetrical, hairless head, a lot to the image of man, but distorted and corrupted. Its onyx black skin seemed to eat away on the surrounding mild, whereas its lid-less eyes gleamed a malevolent white. With a creaking sound, its mouth opened. A murky ooze dribbled out and from the pits of this monstrous creation, a tendril-like appendage appeared. At its prime stood a single white eye, with its black as midnight iris darting round manically. Abruptly, the infernal eye locked its gaze on Edgar, boring into his very soul like a cyclopean drill. A wave of primal dread washed over the physician’s body, relegating him to mere vermin cowering underneath an apex predator.

He tried to run, but his shattered nerves failed him. He collapsed on his again, his eyes glued to the third eye of this unholy big staring down at him. Then, it turned away from him uninterested and rose in the direction of the sky. Edgar’s sanity slipped away right away, as if a grip on his thoughts had been loosened and his thoughts all spilled out into a heap of incoherent drivel.

His eyes trailed upwards, where they received misplaced into the infinite darkness of the sky, simply before the overwhelming tyranny of black was damaged by a streak of pink. Adopted by another, and one other, and one other, wounds of crimson opening on the sky above, fireballs spiraling in the direction of the wretched Earth under!

He was calling them down! His youngsters, his outcast angels, he was calling all of them down!

* * * * * *

When Edgar regained his senses, he was in the midst of the glacial lake, snow falling closely around him and the celebs shining brightly from above. He tried to rise up, but he slipped back down.

“Here, grab my hand!” Captain Northington shouted via the wind.

“No!” Edgar shouted as he stumbled to his ft. “It cannot be…” he whispered, strands of insanity beginning to slither in his mind. He stood bewildered in entrance of the once-dead captain and that’s when he noticed them. The captain’s eyes!

They have been clean and grey, all the colour drained from his irises. Then, with a blink, they went again to normal!

Teetering getting ready to insanity, Dr. Philip Edgar ran into the snowstorm, his screams echoing on this frozen antechamber of hell till the everlasting night time claimed him.

Credit score: MrDupin (Creepypasta Wiki)

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