Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - We picked up strange lifeforms floating in the ocean. I wish we never had.

Episode Date: July 20, 2022

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This is UNSC Saturn. We are the last known capital-class vessel traversing these oceans. If you can hear this, you are not alone. Lawrence spoken to the speaker for the thousandth time. He uttered those words with such an undying sense of hope and wonder, as if there still might be other survivors remaining in the ocean. It's currently the 19th of September, 2392. I am speaking to you from the Communications Center aboard this vessel.

We're holding 5,000 sleeping souls, all waiting for a time we can finally resurface. If you are out there, if you are struggling, we can help. We have food, we have cryotubes, and we have a self-sustaining biome. Please, if anyone can hear this, respond. The last statement sounded less optimistic, and more like a cry for help. Lawrence was the last member of our crew even bothering to provide daily custom messages with the actual date and message of hope. The rest of the crew would record a message on their first day awake and let it play

on loop as protocol dictated. But Lawrence was different. Despite spending the past century in a stasis wake cycle, he still believed other survivors existed out there in the ocean. I admire what you do, you know, I said, as I watched him during the moment. as I watched him turn the radio off. If you admire me so much, why don't you send out a couple of these messages?

He said sarcastically. I'm just not as outgoing as you, I joked. We sat silently in the dark halls of the communication center. The lights were dimmed to save power, only turning on at full strength a few hours a day to mimic sunlight. Though the UNSC Saturn had the nuclear power to run uninterrupted for at least 500 years, we weren't sure that would be enough before having to refuel. And refueling meant resurfacing. A dangerous feat, to say the least.

Want to send Nemo out for a ride? Lawrence asked. We're not supposed to. You know what they do if they found out. Nemo, or nautical excavation and motility operator, was a half-sensient, unmanned submarine used to scan our surroundings without any risk to the capital ship. It had the capabilities of diving to the deepest pits of the Mariana Trench, as well as surviving on the surface for hours at a time, where humans were never meant to tread. Nemo could investigate, regularly checking the atmospheric quality, as well as searching for remnants of nautical life.

Who's going to tell him? Half the crew on duty still haven't woken up from stasis, Lawrence argued. And the captain? I asked. will check the logs. Yeah, when he's scheduled to wake up in 22 years. He had a point. Any mistakes we made today would first be punished by the time the captain had his next shift, and after 257 years on board, Lawrence was yet to be reprimanded for the many rules he'd broken. Fine, two hours, I ordered. Lawrence's face lit up like that of a child on Christmas Eve. He regularly broke protocol to send Nemo to the surface, and, of a few.

The event technically only scheduled to occur once per decade. Lawrence still insisted on checking the surface once per shift. We walked the narrow, long corridors towards the hangar bay, which remained empty for months at the time. Only maintenance crew dropped by a couple of times per year to run diagnostics. Its purpose was mainly to hold escape pods in case of an evacuation. Ironically enough, if we survived the sinking of Saturn, we'd doubt. just as quickly once reaching the surface. Nemo could theoretically hold up to two people,

yet its internal pressure resistance had yet to be tested, not to mention the fact that it had no means of keeping us safe from the dangers on the surface. All right, buddy, let's get you back into the waters. Lawrence told the drone as if it were his pet. Make me proud. We lowered it gently into the pool, allowing it to navigate its way outside alone. Once there, it rapidly started descending from 10,000 feet below to the surface, a journey that would take no more than 20 minutes. I don't get it, Lawrence. Why do you always insist on checking the world above? Doesn't it hurt? What do you mean? It's a constant reminder of what we lost. Why do you constantly keep reminding yourself? I don't remind myself of what we lost. I just remind myself of what we're fighting to get back. he explained.

Nemo sent a live feed from its cameras, displaying little more than darkness in the abyss below. Even if we turned its powerful lights on, we'd be met with little more than a lifeless abyss. Only, once it breached 3,000 feet, might we get lucky enough to see light from the surface. I looked around the hangar, wondering if the escape pods would be able to hold all 5,000 souls within Saturn. Lawrence, on the other hand, was fixated on the screen, showing nothing more than darkness. I knew he was looking for signs of marine life, but we all knew there was none to be found. Lawrence just hadn't accepted that fact yet. Before long, Nemo had caught the first rays of broken sunshine, penetrating the shallow parts of the ocean,

and as always, a look of wonder appeared on his face. Yet, all we could see during the ascent were bubbles and refracted light. Then it breached the surface, wobbling in the ocean before finally producing a clear picture. I didn't care to look, yet I felt obliged to do so. We were a hundred nautical miles from the coast, meaning we were left with little more than murky waters around us. The sky above was pitch black, and the sun shined brightly. Without an atmosphere, there was nothing left to refract the light, leaving us absent the brilliance of a blue sky.

See, nothing, I let out with a sigh. The world is dead. Let Nemo do his job, Lawrence interjected. The vessel would make readings of the atmosphere and measure the radiation levels coming from the sun. Once the numbers started coming in, Lawrence let out a chuckle. Would you look at that? he said. Oxygen levels are rising. Carbon dioxide levels are dropping.

His last statement caught my attention. For the past two centuries, not once had our vessels detected a change in oxygen levels. It wouldn't just spontaneously produce itself, which meant a living organism had survived the extinction event. Check the numbers again, I demanded. It's not a glitch. We've got oxygen. He was right. The oxygen levels had risen by 0.1%,

which wasn't anywhere near enough to sustain human life. But it was a start. We practically jumped from our seats, embracing each other in joy and shock from our discovery. I told you! Lawrence insisted. His undying high spirits had just been confirmed, which would turn him into an insufferable optimist.

But I couldn't help but smile. It was a day to celebrate. if only the rest of the crew had been awake to share in the good news. All right, bring Nemo back down. This time, Lawrence was more than happy to oblige. As the drone made its descent, we couldn't help but ramble about what could have possibly produced such vast amounts of oxygen.

But our celebrations were cut short as Nemo once again reached the depths of the midnight zone and turned on its lights. Did you just do that? I asked. Lawrence shook his head. Nemo had some autonomy over its own decisions, but turning on the light was one decision that could only be made in the presence of movement in the depths,

short of debris sinking towards the abyss. We'd not once detected any sort of movement, yet there it was. We glued our eyes to the screen, looking for any sign of movement. What is that? I asked, as I noticed tiny dots lighting up in the distance. The drone moved closer to the movement.

One dot turned to two, then three. Before long, a thousand blue lights lit up all around it. At first they appeared as long seaweed covered in illuminating blisters. But once we got closer, we noticed limbs, legs, eyes, and teeth. There were bulges within the plants holding humanoid shapes. And the more we inspected the extremities, the more we realized that they were human parts. Shock put me on autopilot. I got up and picked up a radio. What are you doing? Lawrence asked.

I'm alerting a crisis team, I explained. No, wait! We need to bring one of them down to us with the drone. It could change everything. Are you insane? Bringing organic matter on board without alerting a senior officer? I am calling the team. Each crisis team was manned by an executive officer. Two section chiefs with five LPO's each. They were resting in specialized, albeit risky cryopods, able to wake and respond within an hour. I typed in the code, which caused a soft alarm to echo throughout the hangar bay. We'll bring them on board, only when we've alerted the XO.

Fine, Lawrence said, clearly disappointed. We spent the next hour just staring at the bizarre beings. We counted two to five humanoid shapes within each plant, all seemingly a slid. I couldn't decide whether they were a strange step in evolution, or if the plants had consumed the corpses of dead sailors. But before we had time to contemplate, a team of armed men, accompanied by the executive officer, Ramirez, rushed into the hangar. Once the area had been secured, the Exo approached us with a stern look on his face. You mind telling me why the hell you brought us out of stasis? he asked. We found something.

Lawrence just said as he gestured towards the screen. You sent out the drone outside of a scheduled mission? Ramirez asked, his eyes filling with rage. You can court-martial me later. Look at the screen. As soon as he laid eyes upon the grotesque sight, his look turned to one of shock, then confusion, and finally fear. Is that what I think it is? he asked. We could only nod in agreement.

It wasn't something we could explain, nor could. nor could we state with absolute certainty that it was a positive discovery. Something about the creatures felt off, as if the best course of action would be to turn around and never question what we'd seen. But protocol was clear. Any evidence of biological life must be explored by a senior officer. Cut two of them down, bring them inside, contained,

Ramirez ordered. While the orders worried me, Lawrence seemed ecstatic. He set to work, allowing Nemo to detach two of the humanoids, storing them within its own body. Once safely contained, the drone continued its descent, quickly reaching the hangar. Once inside, a group of men in hazmat suits approached the drone for extraction, carefully moving the organic matter into a sealed transport capsule. From there, we were heading straight for the laboratories.

He remained in the observational area behind protective glass as the biologists went to work on the discovery. One of the humanoids would be dissected immediately, while the other would be frozen for safekeeping. Dr. Liebgat would lead the autopsy, a man old enough to remember life on a living planet. His experience in marine biology stood unmatched. He swiftly went to work without asking too many questions. He seemed just as excited as Lawrence, as he cut through the seaweed-like skin, revealing green, hard muscle fibers below. While it looked human, it had been

integrated into the plant. Only, once he'd cut open what we presumed to be the chest cavity, did he stop to admire the creature. Bizarre, he mumbled. No lungs, no hard. It's just filled with the same fibers it has on the outside. Keep going, Ramirez insisted. Before Lieb Gott could cut any deeper, The body twitched ever so slightly. Did you see that? Leibgot asked. Then one of the eyes of the humanoid shot open, darting around the room in a panic. It's alive.

Lawrence mumbled, almost gleefully. We better. Leibgot tried to get out, but before he had the chance to react, the body started squirming violently around. Some of the cut fibers shot up like tendrils, wrapping themselves around Leibgot's arm. His assistants tried to help him, but ended up in mind. entangled in the mess themselves. They screamed as the tendons snapped their arms and legs, pulling hard enough to tear through veins and arteries.

The entire autopsy team had gotten entangled in the mess, their blood mixing with the fibers, which appeared to feed on the broken flesh. But rather than helping the dying scientists, Ramirez ordered his team to seal off the lab. Put the section on lockdown. Alert the team dealing with the second subject. We need to get rid of it.

Without questioning orders, orders, the LPO's locked the laboratory down. I would have been upset, if not for the fact that the entire autopsy team had been killed by the time Ramirez even had the chance to finish uttering his orders. But even with the labs secured, there was a second monstrosity about to be stored. I can't get a hold of them, one of the sailors said. Then get to their position and assist them and maintain radio contact, Ramirez said firmly. The creature inside the lab had grown to three times its size, with tendrils of green fibers stretching up the walls, prying at the ventilation shafts. Though they were at dead end, it proved that the creature had some

sort of intelligence, enough to seek out an escape route. We decided to sterilize the lab with gamma radiation, killing any biological life forms inside. But before we'd get the chance to initiate the protocol, the radio sounded. The LPO sent to investigate the the second team, called back in a panic. He killed him. He led out in a shock. A short yelp, followed by silence. Another man killed by whatever we'd willingly brought on board.

Lawrence, sterilized the room. Kill that thing. It might be trapped now, but it's only a matter of time before it figures a way to get out. Ramirez said, the rest of you, follow me. We're taking this son of a bitch out. I grabbed a rifle and followed his lead. Not even sure if ballistic weapons could take the creature out. We did have more powerful weapons stored, but using anything stronger than primitive ballistic weapons might damage the hull.

Hence, they were forbidden. We rushed towards the last known location of the dead LPO. The team responsible for bringing the creature to the biological holding facility never made it there. A fact easily proven as we came across pools of blood. The creature, on the other hand, was nowhere to be found. We'd lock down the section. which meant it couldn't have accessed any larger section of the ship. Track any movement within the sector, Ramirez said.

Each sector was equipped with a security station from which we could measure any movement and locked down individual rooms or halls. Once there, I sat down to check for any signs of life. But apart from us, and Lawrence, still at the laboratories, the section was clear. Where the hell is it? Ramirez asked.

An alarm sounded with a critical, warning message popping up on our screen. Warning, cryopod failure. All technicians report to the cryo bay immediately. It hit me then that we'd locked down the sector too late. The creature had already made its way deeper into the ship by the time we'd sealed everything off. It had reached the cryo bay, which meant it had thousands of victims to feast on. Oh God, we're too late, was all I could utter. We need to go to the armory. We need better weapons, Ramirez said. And the sink the sub? I interjected. Either we kill that thing with any means necessary, or we lose every single person on board this vessel. We are beyond protocol, and that is an order. He was right.

We either died being consumed by that monstrosity or risked drowning ourselves. But only one of these options gave us a sliver of hope. I decided to call Lawrence to give him a heads up. Lawrence, can you hear me? I asked her over the radio. I'm sorry, he mumbled back. What do you mean? What's going on? I could hear the distinct sound of flesh being torn apart. Lawrence, are you heard? It got me, he said. His voice getting weaker with each uttered word. No, no, no, come on, fight back. I yelled back. Silence. Lawrence was dead. A fact I didn't need to confirm. But if that thing had escaped the lab, we had no direct path to the armory. I rushed to alert Ramirez. But by the time I reached it, I heard gunshots echo through the halls.

There it is! One of the sailors yelled. The bullets shredded through the aquatic flesh, but did little to slow the creature down. It jumped from marine to marine, cutting them down with little effort. Someone called for a retreat. Within the chaos, I couldn't figure out who it was. I kept firing as I ran for my life, leaving the fallen to fend for themselves. Ramirez took up a defensive the position outside the communication station, covering for me as I ran inside. As he tried to enter himself, the creature grabbed onto him. I took his hands and tried to pull him free, but the creature swiftly gutted him. Let me go. Save yourself. He coughed up as his lungs filled with blood. He shoved himself free, grabbing onto a pistol, firing off a few rounds as he was dragged away.

I sealed the door, knowing it would slow it down at best. Only when I dared to, to slow down, did I realize a large chunk of my leg was missing. I was bleeding out, slowly, but certainly. Like the rest of the crew, I would be dead within the hour. So here I am, trapped in the darkness of the communication station, sending out a custom message like Lawrence always did. Unfortunately, this message is not one of hope and salvation. You will find no sanctuary here, no safety, no chance for survival. No, this is a warning to stay away. If you detect the UNSC Saturn in the depths of the ocean,

don't try to help us. Don't scavenge for supplies. If you see us, turn around and leave. Don't let the infestation spread. This will be my last transmission. Current date is 20th of September 2392. May God have mercy on you all. Lazzang sur-joled,

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