The wind had started growing stronger. My teammates were busy wrapping their gear, preparing to leave the base before the storm arrived. I wasn’t going with them. Tradition required at least one member to stay behind—to protect the base, keep the systems running. I was chosen because of my military background. They didn’t take long to lift off. I watched them board the plane and smiled with relief. Just before leaving, the captain leaned in and whispered, “Don’t leave the base during the night. And don’t let your guard down.” I didn’t know why he said it like that—like I’d bump into something. I didn’t think much of it. After they left, I stood alone in the snow. The wind howled. Just me, the snow, and the silence. I went back inside and shut the door. The air was dry and warm—probably the dryer. The sun didn’t linger. Night came fast. I passed time with magazines and old novels. The storm slammed against the windows again and again. The next team wouldn’t arrive for thirty-five days. I thought the rest of the days would be quiet. I was wrong.93Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3nwTnOHx6Z
93Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡc4vpyKawVj
The boredom was killing me. Day after day, nothing changed. I’d read the same books over and over, as if a different ending might appear if I stared long enough. To pass time, I checked every machine around the base—daily rounds with no real purpose. On the eleventh day, I woke up late. Time didn’t matter. I was the only one here. Who would come to judge me? I started my routine around 7 p.m. At first, everything was normal. Machines were still running. “Maybe just another day,” I thought. As I walked past the hall toward the main room, the wind howled. The window shook. At least, I thought it was the wind. But the sound was strange—like something small hitting the glass, again and again. I didn’t stop to check. I finished my rounds and returned to the bedroom for some personal time. Before bed, I took a shower. Thanks to the heater, I didn’t need heavy clothes indoors. But the temperature dropped suddenly. The air felt brittle. Then I saw it: snow on the floor. A thin layer, melting into the tiles. I hadn’t opened a door.93Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRsDpeDZjmf
93Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZrBu6YRMCi
I stared at the snow, wondering how it got onto my floor. All the windows were shut. All the doors were closed. Maybe just the vent? I cleaned it up and headed to the control room. The moment I opened the door, I froze—literally. The control room was covered in snow. Something didn’t add up. How could there be this much snow inside? I gathered it into a corner and noticed the heater’s power had been turned down to low. I switched it back to high. Everything felt off. I hadn’t changed anything. Was there an automatic setting I didn’t know about? I returned to the bedroom, but sleep wouldn’t come. Questions kept circling in my head. On the twelfth day, I started my routine earlier, hoping to find answers. Everything was quiet, like it used to be. All doors and windows were intact. No signs of an intruder. All machines were functioning properly. Still, I couldn’t explain the snow in the hallway and control room. Night came fast. I showered and went back to the bedroom. In the middle of the night, a strange sound woke me—something being dragged across the floor. I sat up, trying to see through the dark. I hadn’t left any lights on. But there was a shadow. A darker shadow. It moved slowly, coming closer to my bedroom. The temperature dropped with its approach. Then it stopped at my door. I couldn’t move. My muscles locked. And then—the door opened.93Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRzxJVz6BIz
After thirty-five days, the team finally came back. The captain brought fresh supplies to continue the mission. The wind had stopped howling. The sun began to share its light again. But the crew couldn’t open the base door. They shouted the guard’s name, again and again. No answer. The captain circled the base and found a hole behind the vent, half-buried in snow. He squeezed through. It led directly to the control room. The entire space was frozen over, snow covering every surface. All systems were shut down. The captain worked to bring them online. After a few minutes, the heater flickered back to life—but only in the control room. They stepped into the hallway, then reached the bedroom. There was even more snow there. The guard lay naked on the floor, his body covered by a thin layer of frost. Beneath the bed, they found a recording device.93Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0Z5VlbXo0n
“There’ve been strange things happening lately. The heater keeps switching to low at night. Snow appears in the hallway. I’ve searched the base—nothing. But every night, a shadow stops at my bedroom door. It wants to come in. I can’t take it anymore. Tonight, I won’t lock the door. I’ll face it. Everything ends tonight.”
The captain stared at the frozen body. No signs of struggle. No wounds. No fear. It looked like he died in peace.
ns216.73.216.134da2
and then Add to home screen.