CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "82°06′S 54°58′E" Creepypasta

Episode Date: November 29, 2021

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by LaDeckard: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comm...Creepypastas are the campfire tales of the internet. Horror stories spread through Reddit r/nosleep, forums and blogs, rather than word of mouth. Whether you believe these scary stories to be true or not is left to your own discretion and imagination. LISTEN TO CREEPYPASTAS ON THE GO-SPOTIFY► https://open.spotify.com/show/7l0iRPd...iTUNES► https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast...CREEPY THUMBNAIL ART BY►Michał Sałata: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/oA...SUGGESTED CREEPYPASTA PLAYLISTS-►"Good Places to Start"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g7YCb...►"Personal Favourites"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEa2R...►"Written by me"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gX6RA...►"Long Stories"- https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list...FOLLOW ME ON-►Twitter: https://twitter.com/Creeps_McPasta►Instagram: https://instagram.com/creepsmcpasta/►Twitch: http://www.twitch.tv/creepsmcpasta►Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CreepsMcPastaCREEPYPASTA MUSIC/ SFX- ►http://bit.ly/Audionic ♪►http://bit.ly/Myuusic ♪►http://bit.ly/incompt ♪►http://bit.ly/EpidemicM ♪-This creepypasta is for entertainment purposes only-

May 7, 1977, Torbion sat at the dining room table's far end, waving his hands wildly to emphasize his point. He'd recently returned from a trip to the neighboring Chilean research facility, and it had obviously been an exciting journey. So, Magna, I quietly stroll up to his door, and we have the samples in hand and knock. Torbion continued, knocking on the table. And that weird Chilean biologist Paco tells us to leave, and, when we knock again, he swings open his door. and leaps on Magna, making him drop the samples we needed analyzed. I shifted my gaze away from him to take a drink of soup. Torpion exaggerated his stories all the time,

but living on an Antarctic research station meant you had to take whatever amusement you could get, even if it meant a few wild tales. Because it was early May, no one had seen the sun in months. It was challenging to live so far from civilization, but the constant negative degrees outside made it even more difficult. It didn't bother me though.

I'd jump to the chance to come to this station since I'm an astronomer, you see. The complete isolation, absence of artificial light and months of continuous darkness made it an astronomer's paradise and gave us a view of the stars incomparable to anywhere else on Earth. Torbion continued to tell his tale. Paco was biting and chlorine magna, but I pushed him. him off and held him down while he thrashed and screamed. The dude was mental and had so much rage for such a small guy. It was indeed surprising.

Magna was a big mechanic whose duty was to make sure our generators kept us warm all winter, and I had no doubt he could have easily subdued her psychotic Gillian, but yet he was overpowered. Topian leaned forward, savoring the attention of the others who ran the table. I didn't even know what Paco's deal was, but the dude was a strong. straight lunatic. He could have killed him if I didn't intervene and save him. Dr. Holberg, our eldest geologist, sat close to Magnaar and perked up. Are you serious? He asked. He'd have to have gone through a lot of stress for him to snap like that. Torbion shook his head. All I know

is that afterwards he stormed off into his room and acted like nothing had happened. After a few days, I hope he'll settle down. If he says like this for the rest of the winter, who knows what'll happen. Yvonne, who sat next to me, nodded. That would be bad, she admitted. Are you serious, Torbion? You held him down? I inquired. My uncertainty was audible in my voice. Torpion gave me a sidelong glance. Yes, I held him down. Dude had a deranged look in his eyes. He could have killed someone. I apologize by raising my hands. I apologize if I offended you. but his expression suddenly changed and Magna had dismissed us

with a contemptuous sweep of his hand It's not a big deal We all snapped from time to time And in this environment The stress can overcome someone in an instant Magna returned his focus to his food And the table discussion continued

After dinner we all cleaned up And I went to my room I've been living on the station for many months And maintaining professionalism was becoming more difficult, seeing as my colleagues had been cooped up in the same space for months. May 8, 1977. I got up early the next morning and relocated my telescope to a different part of the sky. I'd hoped to find a new planet, and the information from the star cluster appeared intriguing.

I went to our communications room. I'd hoped to find a new planet, and the information from the star cluster appeared intriguing. I went to our communications room after setting the telescope system to run for a few hours and I came to a halt in the corridor, gazing out at the flag that marked the geographic south pole. North due station was only a few hundred metres away from the pole, which made our station entirely inaccessible by air and most means of ground transit during the winter months. Only scientists like me, as well as a skeleton crew of support workers like Magna and Dr. Holberg, who made isolated living here feasible, remained behind.

When I arrived to the communication station, I noticed Yvonne seated at the display, wearing her headset. She smiled at me and took off the headset. Hey, Iva, how was it with you in Torpion last night? She said. I just shrugged. I know I shouldn't get into a fight with him. He's only trying to provide some amusement for us all.

She agreed. I'm sure it'll be okay Torbion isn't the kind of guy to hold grudges And he gets over it She shook my hand in hers and squeezed it I offered her a tiny grin And sat down next to her Absolutely rubbing her back

It's just It can become a little weird Living with the same people for months you know Yvonne cocked her head And studded me over Tell me about it The radio played loudly enough For both of us to hear

Before I could answer From where I sat, I could hear the voice of a young man. Do you copy North Dew Station, over? Yvonne grabbed the headset and press the microphone. This is Dr Tristan Fio, resident medic, speaking from the Chilean Research Station, Ordaz. We need immediate help. One of our biologists, Paco, became enraged late yesterday night and began assaulting everyone, and it just isn't him.

Numerous others have also gone crazy. Yvonne opened an Antarctic map in search of the Ordaz station, then pressed the microphone button once in my phone. more. Tristan, how many people are at Audar Station? We need to know if you have enough resources for an emergency evacuation and potential quarantine. On the radio, there was no answer. And, after a lengthy minute, a voice eventually replied,

I thought I heard something in the hallway. They knocked on the door. We, there are just ten of us living here. Please. Quickly. Through the communications, a loud crack and noise could be heard. they know I'm in here, please. The connection was lost and static filled the room.

Yvonne gave me a wide-eyed stare and mumbled under a breath. Let's call a group meeting. We all gathered in the station's living room to talk about what had transpired, and the only thing that everyone agreed on was that we need to go check. Torbion gestured with his hand. I'm the only one who knows the journey by heart, therefore I'm going, and besides, I'm probably the strength. strongest here, and who knows what'll happen.

I'll accompany you, I responded. My telescope is automatic, and I'm not doing anything here anyway. I need to be present to hold you down if you go crazy. To help you on burst out laughing. All right, Iva, you've got yourself a bargain. This time I'm not going to make anything up. The remainder of the night was spent getting our two snowmobiles ready. We packed additional gasoline and satellite phones in case we got into difficulties

and made plans for the next day's journey. When it was all said and done, I collapsed into bed, tired. That night, I didn't get much sleep, and I thought to myself, how had other individuals gone insane with Paco? Why would they act so irrationally? Was Paco to blame? It didn't make any sense to me.

May 9, 1977. Wadda's station was about 25 kilometres away, and it would take us a couple of hours to get, there on our snowmobiles in the winter weather. We departed early in the morning, but the deep blackness that eternally blanketed the landscape in winter would have you believe otherwise. Nonetheless, our machine's lights were bright,

and we made good speed, cutting through the snow between us and Audet Station. Even with my specifically tailored snow clothing, the temperature was brutally chilly. It seems when you're riding in temperatures that might kill you in minutes, it doesn't matter what you're wearing. After about an hour of riding, Torbion signalled for us to come to a halt. I pushed my machine up against his and turned it off.

He dug inside his backpack and drank some water. How far do we have to go? I inquired. He gave me a chilly stare through his goggles. I'm not sure. Who knows if we're even going in the right direction? Silence fell for a little period before I spoke again. I didn't mean to. I began to stutter, Torpion said,

Ah, yeah. He drank all of his water and put it back into his bag. He then turned his machine back on and continued on his way without saying anything more. For a little while, I sat in silence, trying to make sense of what it transpired. Only the drone of the snowmobile motors accompanied us for the next few hours, and I exhaled a sigh of relief when the brilliant lights of Ordaz station loomed on the horizon. As we drew nearer, I realised the lights I'd seen weren't from bulbs. My relief immediately changed the worry.

For fires provided the illumination, the yellow flames licked up the sides of the buildings as a dust station burned. Torbion and I walked up to the station after stopping our snowmobiles just outside the compound. Only the furthest buildings from the centre remained burning since several structures had already burned out completely. We walked to the station centre where we saw what was left at their gasoline tanks. There were a jumble of charred and twisted metal. Next to them, Torbion knelt.

As if to himself, he muttered, this tank was blown up intentionally. He didn't even bother to glance at me. However, why would someone blow up their own fuel tank? I inquired. Torpion rose up and walked into the main station. building without saying anything. I kept a careful eye on him as I followed him.

That's when he entered the building and immediately saw that the floor was strewn with bodies. Some of them were more burnt than others, but all dead nonetheless. I spotted something protruding out of the chest of one comparatively unburned cadaver in the corridor. I got down on my knees and felt it. Only to discover, it was an axe handle. Toppion, I said.

I have something here. Torbion approached the body and gazed at it. I felt sick and light-headed, almost instantly. Hot bile rose in the back of my throat as I walked away from the body. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall, forced myself not to throw up. That's when I noticed a peculiar crunching noise coming from behind me. From behind, I heard Torbion speak. Hey, Iva. Am I lying now?

I swung around and in his hand Torbion wielded the axe. His eyes, ears and nose were dripping with blood. His eyes were dead set on me and the rage burned in his eyes. He was filled with the wrath that I had never seen before in my life. Then he sprang at me, axe in hand yelling, Am I lying now? The axe sank into the wall adjacent to where my head had been before I ducked. I latched backwards, almost losing my balance.

Torbion was twice my size, twice my strength, had an axe and was wielding it with pure rage. Torbion yanked at where it was embedded in the wall, blood streaming down his cheeks like melting water from an icicle. I took advantage of his confusion by turning around and running, hoping to come up on a door leading to the outside. I knew that wasn't going to happen. The station's doors were numerous in numbers and many were airlocks, which meant I needed time to escape. I heard a splinter of something as the axe broke away from the wall as I darted into a side room. The sound of heavy footsteps reverberated down the corridor and into the room where I was standing. I anxiously looked about and noticed that the flames had eaten away at one of the room's side walls.

I gave one final glance down the corridor before lunging at the wall with my shoulder. Under my weight, the fire damaged wall cracked and fractured and I fell through, landing hard on the other side. My fall was cushioned by a deep layer of snow, which turned a crash that should have shattered my arm and ribs into one that just knocked the wind out of me. My winter clothing was cumbersome, so I fought to get to my feet. I'd barely gotten a few steps when I heard Torbion's heavy footsteps in the snow behind me.

Through the winter wind, Torbion yelled to me, Is this true enough for you now, Iver? I kept running without looking back until I reached my snowmobile. I got on top of it and started it up. With the axe in his hands, Torbion stood a dozen feet away from me, swinging it furiously in the wind. I ripped up the engine and drove the snowmobile straight into his standing figure, hitting him directly in the chest. The collision produced a horrible crunching noise, and he whirled around sideways like a ragdoll into the snow. I redirected my vehicle back to the station, and before pressing on the accelerator, I slowed down and looked behind me.

In the night, the station blazed brilliantly, and I could see Torbion's limp body in the snow. I shook my head and returned my focus to the snowmobile, and began driving back to the station through the onslaught of snow. May 10, 1977. I gathered everyone in the dining room and told them what we discovered, and then what had occurred with Torbion. Dr. Holberg stood forward after I concluded my story. Well, it appears that the Chilean man Paco has contracted a disease, he explained. It's not a sickness I've heard of before, but it's the only explanation. He took a few steps back and stared at us.

I didn't have to look around the room to know our solemn looks. This illness appears to be extremely contagious, he added. I'm no epidemiologist, but I believe we should all be quarantined. Even standing together in this place might be dangerous, and who knows? Some of us could already be infected. Everyone smiled and nodded. Dr. Holberg fixed his gaze on me. Those who had the most interaction with Torbion should,

in my opinion, be kept behind closed doors and away from everyone else. A shiver ran down my spine. Was it true that I was sick with, whatever it was? In just a few hours, Torbion had gone from normal to murder us, and I didn't want that to happen to me or the others. Of course. I replied, but that makes sense.

The group of us who had been with Torbion the night he recounted his story had been separated into our quarters. As she came into a room, I grabbed Yvonne's eye and held it for a long time. She closed the door and gave me a sorrowful grin. I followed suit. I heard movement in the corridor

as the others placed furniture in front of our doors to keep us out. Dr. Holberg, who was in the room next to mine, spoke through his door. After only a few hours, Torbion began to show symptoms, so maybe we don't have to continue this for long. Just try to remember for the time being. If you notice anything unusual, please let me know. The remainder of the day was spent in an agony of boredom.

I spent most of my time reading and staring out of the window to the snow beyond. Every half an hour or so, I placed my hand to my nose to see if it was bleeding. But there was none, and I didn't feel sick at all. After a few hours of mind-numbing reading, I slipped into a restless slumber long after the hall light had been turned out. May 11, 1977 I was startled awake by the sound of a tremendous bang from within our building. I banged at my door, demanding to be let out, but no one answered. Then I stopped making noise and focused more intently on listening.

Sure enough, outside my door, I paint me. groaning sound could be heard. I kicked at my door in desperation. Each blow pushed it open one centimetre or two further. Knocking down the furniture that had been placed to block the door, blood was dripping from the eyes and lips of a corpse that lay at my feet. The chest was soaked from what appeared to be stab wounds. I moved away, trying not to vomit at the sight,

and several rooms where sick individuals had been residing were open along the corridor. I noticed Yvonne's door and was a release. leave to find it still shot and blocked by a large desk. I approached it and knocked before speaking. Are you a cane there, Yvonne? Iva, I'm fine, she yelled from behind the door. I moved the desk out of the doorway and opened it, revealing Yvonne standing before me. We have to get out of here.

Yvonne put a palm to her lips as she spotted the body in the corridor. She blinked and nodded after that. Where are we going? She inquired. My thoughts were racing. We have no idea how many people are ill. I propose that we get on a snowmobile and travel to the Australian station. It's a long way, but if we carry enough petrol, we should be able to make it and get help.

Yvonne smiled and nodded. We began walking down the corridor, encountering numerous dead bodies along the way, all bleeding from their eyes, and all had numerous wounds inflicted upon them. We arrived at the station's garage and I peered through the door's window. To my immediate horror, I saw with a crowbar, a craze Dr. Holberg was chopping away at the last surviving snowmobile. This gas tank already ripped away on the ground and it seemed that he would soon succeed in destroying the rest of the thing. We walked back together when I grabbed Yvonne away from the door. We ducked into the kitchen as the sounds of many pairs of footsteps reverberated down the hall in front of us.

I took a glance around and noticed a large walking freezer that housed the majority of our goods. I drew Yvonne inside and closed the door behind us. But it seemed it was no use as the freezer door suddenly opened. When the freezer door opened, I turned towards it, braced myself for a battle with whatever or whoever opened it. Dr. Holberg stood before us, surrounded by a small group, all of whom were covered in blood and clearly insane.

Everyone was armed with the weapon Axis, knives, pool cues, and even a club fashion from a table leg were among the weapons displayed. They smiled as they looked at us, not moving even a millimeter where they stood. Yvonne screamed from behind me. Why are you doing this?

Dr. Holberg did not react. Instead, he frowned and wiped the blood from his chin away. Then he grinned, and before he ran forward, I grabbed the freezer door and slammed it shut. From the outside, I could hear their yells and screams, or before they started banging on the door. No, I said quietly. No, no, no, no.

I dashed to the door, but it was useless. The freezer was constructed of stainless steel, and the door, which was made of insulation and hard metal, was more than 15 centimetres thick. Yvonne and I exchanged glances. We were both dressed casually in T-shirts and jeans. We were both without her insert. ventilating winter gear. Tears welled up in my eyes. Yvonne, I'm sorry. I rummaged through my pockets for anything useful, but all I had was my room's notepad and a pen. In dread, I looked up at Yvonne, her tears soaked into my t-shirt as she went up to me and buried her face in my chest.

Seeing as my life is now on a path to the end, I spent my last remaining time writing this journal, and now I'm scared, because I'm still. starting to lose the feeling in my fingertips. However, I agree with Yvonne. I was quite ironic. We die in a freezer in the middle of Antarctica.