Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - A Peaceful New Year’s Eve in Greenland That Ended in Blood, Shock, and Unanswered Questions PART1 #73

Episode Date: July 19, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #GreenlandMystery #NewYearsEveHorror #TrueCrimeTerror #UnsolvedNightmare #BloodyWinterTale  What started as a quiet, snowy celebration turned into something dark and unforgettable. A family’s peaceful gathering in remote Greenland is shattered by a gruesome discovery, leaving behind only confusion, silence, and an eerie trail of blood. No suspects. No answers. Just horror frozen in time.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, Greenlandhorror, NewYearsEveGoneWrong, unsolvedmystery, truecrime, snowyterror, coldcase, northernnightmare, bloodandice, disturbingstory, remotehorror, chillingevent, familytragedy, mysterycrime, realhorrorstory

This was the nightmare that took place years ago when I was a park ranger. I still remember standing there, feeling dissociated and strange as I looked down on the eerie scene below us. Oh God in heaven, Ace whispered in the purple light of the cave. Before us, the bright red hand shot forward and grabbed the body of the headless man. It lifted the corpse up with ease. I watched the beast open its jaw wide enough to throw the corpse in without difficulty, snapping its mouth shut. it sprayed more blood down its face and across the eroded stone floor in front of it. Dark red stains emanated out across the floor for 20 feet in front of the creature,

looking like clotted Rorschach inkblots in the fetid cave. We need to go deeper in, Jansen said, looking for me to Ace with a serious frown on her face. What are you, insane? Ace said, Do you want to die? There could be thousands of those things down there. But the decision was quickly taken. out of our hands as we heard screaming, young, high-pitched voice. We all looked down at once

and saw the white humanoid mutants dragging out a young boy, one that I recognized from pictures on the trailer park crime scene wall. He had cuts and scrapes all over him and was shivering, either from hypothermia or fear or both, but he was alive. His eyes were huge as he was dragged forward by his small hands towards the great red insectal beast in the corner. God damn it, I whispered, looking at Ace and Jansen. Okay, Jansen and I will take point positions. Ace, you guard the rear. We will form a triangle and start shooting.

When one reloads, the other two cover. Ace, you'll need to swing back and periodically check our backs to make sure there's no ambush. Now let's go, they didn't question my command. Neither of them had time to. To save the boy, we needed to move immediately. We started down the smooth stone floors, only a couple hundred feet away from unknown numbers of enemies. I fired first, aiming my shotgun at the group of mutants nearest to me as quickly as I could pull the trigger. The first shot blew the chest of one open, kept going, hit another in the leg, and ended up blowing chips of stone from the wall behind them.

I saw it all in slow motion, my adrenaline pumping and the heightened awareness of battle taking hold. The second shot hit the nearest one in the head. It exploded like a shattering vase, bits of blood and bone flying out in all directions. I saw the one holding the boy drop as Jansen hit it with a shot from the Ruger. It was an amazing shot, missing the boy entirely and taking off the head of the creature. It looked fairly risky, especially with a pistol, but I could take it. tell she had experience and marksmanship. And yet, personally, I would never have tried from that distance with a hostage in tow with anything less than a rifle. The chance of blowing the

hostages head off seemed far too great. It made me wonder about her impulse control and risk-taking mindset. Who was this woman, after all? The white mutant continued holding the boy's hands for a second, standing on its feet as its mutilated, half-destroyed head kept pumping sprays of blood in the air. Then it fell, crumpling slowly to the floor. The black beast in the corner appeared enraged by this point. It gave off a banshee whale that sent out powerful blasts of sound, rising and falling in distinct waves. It sounded like a choked, much deeper version of a steam whistle. Instinctually I wanted to drop my gun and cover my ears to stop the painful shrieking. it seemed even louder than the gunshots something i would have said was impossible before hearing it and worse than all that the beast was rising to its feet while it looked fat and slow and while i knew it to be full of eggs since we had seen it lay some it turned out to be much faster than all that would have suggested

It had a huge, blood-red belly, but it moved with the grace and speed of a cat. It rose on its six legs, its upper body sticking up from the lower insectal carapace like some sort of demented centaur. Its branched legs skittered forward in a centipede-like motion that gave me an instinctive revulsion. But it wasn't running towards us. It was moving away from the gunfire towards a huge entrance. As it went, it grabbed the boy with its inhumanly long, thin arms. I feared it would open its giant maw and pop him inside, and that would be the last we would ever see of him, but it didn't. It disappeared, making that shrieking, steam whistle cry as it went.

My ears were ringing so badly from all the gunshots, the echoes of the gunshots and the cries of the beasts that I was afraid I had gone deaf for a moment. A. stood in front of me, moving his lips, but I couldn't tell what the hell he was saying. What? I screamed. My hearing slowly returned. We have to follow the boy, he said. We can't lose his trail. I knew he was right.

The existence of a live hostage had totally changed the situation. We had no backup coming and no way to call for help. We would have to take him ourselves. It seemed an insane proposition, and the creatures here vastly outnumbered us, but letting a hostage die was not an option. Yeah, no shit. I said glumly. I sighed deeply. We had more ammo in the snowmobiles. I had filled my pockets with extra slugs, but I hadn't expected this. Ace was likely in a similar situation. We faced

the choice of either going back and trying to grab as much ammo as we could, and possibly losing the hostage, or going forward and running the risk of using up all our ammo, which was, after all, a risk either way, since we had no idea how many of those things lived in the tunnels. I saw the same thoughts running through Ace's mind as he looked back towards the snowmobiles, then forward to the tunnels. Let's go, I said, motioning for us to go forwards. We can't risk losing the trail. We'll put breadcrumbs down as we go, metaphorically. Slice off tiny pieces of a jacket or something so we can find our way back. Based on how many of those goddamn things I saw, he responded, I think we'll be able to just follow the empty shell casings

alone. Jansen had already started running forwards by this point, and we had to sprint to keep up. We ran past the eggs, some empty and others throbbing with inner life. I saw the one nearest to me pulsating with blood-red veins, a thin, luminous skin revealing the silhouette of a monstrous insectoid creature inside. It writhed and squirmed, twisting its six legs and pushing against the membrane that kept it entombed within the egg from time to time. Soon, I knew it would push through. How many others had already hatched? How long had this been going on?

I had a feeling that we would soon find out. We sprinted into the tunnel, turning on our LED headlamps as we went. Jansen was in the lead, then Ace, then me at the rear. Periodically I checked our backs, but nothing seemed to be following us, not yet, anyways. All the commotion was in front of us. That creature was still shrieking, though the sound was much more muffled and distant now. To my horror, I heard dozens of responses from all around, deeper in various tunnels that branched off from the main chamber or from this one. Some sounded very far away and barely audible, but others seemed much, much closer.

I also heard the cries for help from the young boy, though these, too, grew fainter. We tried running faster, but what could a human's two legs do against that skittering monstrosity's six legs? Not much, I thought to myself. The tunnel looked empty. That strange mold grew everywhere here as well. We barely even needed the LEDs to see, though it had so many curves and branches that it was difficult to see far anyways. Every hundred feet or so, another wall appeared, always curving to the left or the right. As we ran, I saw glimmers of what looked like red eyes from some of the smaller side tunnels,

but whenever I turned to look, they were gone. It was the same with those who might have followed us. I thought I saw glimpses of a long, white hand or a lipless face for a moment, but when I pointed the gun, the thing had slunk back into the shadows or deeper into one of the endless branching tunnels that disappeared around corners in an instant. The shrieking of the beasts had faded into the distance, and an eerie silence. descended like a fog. We had all stopped by this point at an intersection of the cave system. One tunnel went off to the left at a right angle, the other to the right at a right angle,

and then we had the larger main tunnel we were following that extended in front of and behind us. Luckily, we hadn't yet deviated from the main tunnel, so finding our way back should be relatively easy. It felt substantially hotter down here as well. We had descended deeper into the chain of mountains that ran northwards, parallel to the Arctic Ocean. I had opened all of my jackets and taken off my hat, but I still felt boiling hot. I could tell the other two did as well. Trickles of sweat beated their faces, and they were ripping off layers of clothing. They threw a couple jackets on the ground, not wanting to carry them for God knows how long.

If we made it out of here, I thought they might regret it, but after miles of walking, I too threw a couple jackets on the ground and left them. After all, when we came back this way to return to the snowmobile, we could just grab them again. Except, of course, we never did come back that way. God damn, A said. Well, we've lost the kid. Let's go back and report. We should be able to find a signal with the sat phone somewhere in the area. I wish we had, but at that moment, circumstances beyond our control sealed our fate. It started with a small tremble, almost imperceptible. I looked around at the glowing purplish walls and the strange mossy molds that covered everything. Some of them lost connection with the walls as the shaking

grew stronger. As soon as their root system stopped touching the stone and earth, the round cluster of detached mold would instantly go dark, their black light illuminations shut off like a switch when it stopped being anchored to the stone tunnel. Earthquake. I shouted, but Jansen and Ace clearly already knew. We looked around for someplace safe. We ducked into a side tunnel where the ground was more stable. Behind us, rocks smashed into the ground, knocked out of place after who knows how many years. It became a continuous cacophony. We ran faster, and finally, something behind us seemed to let go. The entire main tunnel sounded like it was collapsing. Some small pebbles and rocks dislodged and hit me in the face and chest as I ran, but it became increasingly clear

that whatever fault line had slipped had been further back, running underneath the main northwards tunnel. It sounded like tons of dirt and stone had collapsed. And then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. A few small aftershocks shook the area slightly, but as a whole, it seemed like we were safe. We all had our LED headlamps on as we made our way back to the main tunnel, hoping there was a way out. We had to get to the snowmobiles, and more importantly, we needed help. There might be more people imprisoned or taken hostage down here for all I knew. Is everyone okay? I said. Fine, Janssen said, wiping dirt off her face. A small trickle of blood ran down her forehead. Jesus, the main tunnel.

A. said, walking slowly out of the small tunnel we had sought refuge in. Look at it. I came up behind him, unsurprised to see tons of rock spilling out towards us, with smaller boulders and pebbles nearest and huge pieces as tall as a man appearing further in. We're going to need to find another way back, I said. We can't go back. Jansen said, There's a hostage in here, and how do you expect us to find him? Ace asked. These tunnels could go for a hundred miles in every direction for all we know.

I felt another tremble below our feet as a small aftershock passed through the area, sending a few smaller stones rolling and tumbling around us. But we had come this far, after all. We're going to get that kid back, I said. We've already come this far, and the way back is blocked anyways. We're going to need to find another way out. There has to be other entrances to this cave system, but what I really thought about was the horror stories I had heard about the Paris catacombs, how occasionally someone would find themselves lost in them. Countless random twists and turns through the darkness below the city combined with many miles of tunnels meant that very few who found themselves alone and lost down their made it back.

They often starved or died from dehydration, their bones inevitably mixing with the hundreds of thousands of others resting eternally under the bustling cityscape above. After resting, we started moving forwards together. Morale felt low, and even Ace looked sullen and thoughtful. We continued on in the main tunnel, hoping that the boys still lived somewhere in these endless tunnels. But we hadn't heard a single sound from the creatures in so long that I began to give up hope. The tunnel ahead of us started to open up, and massive growths of the luminescent moulds began

infesting the floor and walls, growing in shapes like ant mounds that reached nearly up to my neck. A soft sound began to echo back. It sounded like the babbling of a subterranean brook. Running forward, I shone the light into the stream and felt relieved to see it was full of pure, clean water. I began to greedily shove handfuls of water in my mouth. I saw Ace and Jansen follow my lead. After all the running and fighting, I felt hungry, thirsty, and tired. Looking up, I saw there was a primitive bridge against the stream made of a slab of granite. And beyond, I saw something that took my breath away. There was a cathedral down here, or at least something close to it.

Hundreds of eggs stretched across the right and left sides of the chamber, like pews in a church. They were organized in lines with a ten-foot-wide empty path leading further in. hundreds of feet above us sharp stalactites hung from the ceiling glowing in the purplish light of the mould who climbed the walls in thin streamers at the end of the open chamber a few hundred feet away i saw a carving that stretched to the ceiling hewn from pure stone it showed one of those insectile egg-laying monsters it showed it standing up straight with its thin branching arms stretched out to the ceiling above it its oval eyes wide and its huge mouth stretched open wide to show it countless predators' teeth. Below it, I saw one of the white, humanoid creatures. This one wore a coarse, brown robe, the first one of its kind I had ever seen clothed. It was so still, I thought it was part of the carving at first, that they had created a religious icon showing these creatures serving their great and horrible masters. But then, it turned towards us. We all raised our guns at once.

Freeze. Jansen cried. I saw her finger tighten around the trigger. Don't. I said, it's unarmed. Wait. I felt eyes on me from all around me, but when I turned to check our backs, I saw nothing. We started walking forwards towards the robed mutant. As we got closer to the front, I saw more and more of the eggs appeared empty. The ones in the back all had life inside. died, life that pushed against the thin membranes and whose legs skittered eerily in the amniotic fluid they breathed. Why should we let it live? Jansen objected angrily under her breath as we moved forward in unison. These bastards killed that family, and who knows how many others. When I think back to all the unsolved missing persons cases in this county, I knew what she meant.

The same thought had occurred to me. How many people had these creatures killed? The music in the brown robe stood there, his lipless mouth forming a cold sneer as he looked me up and down. Its strange eyes seemed to bulge from its emaciated face. When I got close enough, I realized they had an almost albino look to them, with blood-red irises that faded towards pink as they neared the center. The pupils seemed to glow, reflecting the eerie light of the mold. I didn't know what to do next. The creature in front of me spoke first, however. They are, our gods, he croaked. From the depth of his voice and the cast of his body, I had figured out that this was probably a male among his species. The way he spoke

reminded me of how deaf people sometimes sounded when they spoke. The word sounded strange, with random pauses and changes in cadence making it hard to understand at times. But it was definitely English. Who are you? I asked, What is this? place. He shook his head, pointing to the huge carving behind him. God's, he said. We feed, and they protect. They haven't done a very good job so far, Ace whispered in my ear. Those huge bugs just ran screaming when we started shooting. I ignored this. What are you? I asked, hoping for an actual response. This time, I got one. We are, the keepers, he said, slowly, thoughtfully, looking up at the huge carving.

And these, are necrovores. He shook his head again, an expression crossing his face that looked very human. Was it, regret? Fear. And they're hungry. So hungry. As if on cue, I heard the skittering of many legs behind me. Spinning around quickly, I saw that while we had been distracted,

some of what he called the necrophores had surrounded us in a semicircle, cutting off any retreat. These looked much smaller than the original one we had seen, and I assumed they were likely juveniles. Behind you! I screamed to my team, but they already heard what I had. I raised my shotgun, firing a slug into the nearest one's curved red face. It went between its eyes, and for a moment I could see a clear hole all the way through behind it to the stone walls surrounding us. Then it crumpled, its leg shaking spasmodically in its death throws, its arms moving back and forth in small arcs quickly as if it had a seizure in its last dying moments. Dozens of them appeared, and the speed at which they ran at us looked eerie. All I would see was a red blur and

the flash of many branching legs, and an instant later, I would see one of those abominations flying through the air with jaws opened and claws raised forwards. The guns fired quickly, dropping a dozen in the space of a few seconds and slowing the ones behind enough for us to have a chance. But they skittered so fast, like huge spiders. Their many legs shuffled and cracked against the stone floors, and they leapt at us. I dodged one, sidestepping it and shooting it in the head with a shotgun blast. Its dark red eyes looked at me from its angular face as a giant exit wound exploded from the back of its mouth.

Shrieking, it fell. Ace wasn't so lucky. One jumped at him, slashing with its sharp claws and unhinging its jaw. In a blur, I saw it grab his left arm, slicing through the cloth and skin easily. A spray of blood shot into the air. Ace. No. I screamed, chambering another round and firing.

I hit the beast in the center of its body. It gurgled and spit as blood poured out of its body. It tried to get up and keep fighting, but its legs gave out underneath it, and I watched it for a moment as it lay on the floor, kicking and dying. Ace had reloaded and turned, taking down another one with a direct shot. Jansen dropped the last two, and then suddenly, everything was quiet again. Only the ringing in my ears from all the gunfire broke it. We quickly applied pressure and a tourniquet, and after many minutes of resting and attending to his wound, the bleeding slowed. We sat among all the dead necrovores.

The strange priest had disappeared in the fighting, slinking away in one of the tunnels behind the carving. We need to find food and water, I said. There may be more underground streams, if we're lucky, but food? What are we going to do, cook a necrovor? I looked at the corpse of the nearest one disdainfully as I spoke. If we have to, Jansen said, I'm not dying down here. Not unless I have to. That's funny, A said, looking at his injured arm, because you were the one who acted all gung-ho to come down here in the first place.

Even before we saw the boy. Who, by the way, we have seen no sign of. This has all been a wild goose chase. An insane, wild goose chase to God knows where. Probably death, or the seventh circle of hell, maybe, I said jokingly, but no one smiled. We continued walking. Eventually, we heard a soft babbling, and found a small stream running through a side tunnel. We cleaned Aces wound as best as we could, drinking as much of the clean, clear water as possible.

But hunger began affecting me. I wondered if we really would have to try eating those strange red beasts if it came down to it. Maybe they'd taste like lobster, I thought to myself with a wry smile. But our problems only got worse from there. Ace's wound looked terrible. Red, inflamed patches of skin rose all around the slice, and the veins seemed to be discolored as they led away from it. Nothing to worry about, Ace said, smiling. It's only a flesh wound. But in fact, I did worry. And it got worse as we went on. After a couple more hours of walking, it started to really smell, and I saw pus and black spots beginning to spread on his arm. I had never seen an infection set in so rapidly and spread so quickly before.

I wondered what kind of exotic alien bacteria might be on those creatures, and shuddered. We rested, finding an empty side tunnel and laying down. Ace and I were far away from Jansen, who had wandered away down the tunnel a few hundred feet, maybe to use the bathroom in private. I don't trust her, Ace whispered. Neither do I, I said. I think she knows more than she lets on. The whole thing seems weird, Ace said, looking down at his arm for the hundredth time,

frowning and wincing. But I think you might find you need her. I'm certainly not in much of a condition to help you. After resting for a while, we got back up and started on down the tunnel again, the endless growths of mold still giving us enough illumination to see ahead without our LED headlamps. I tried to conserve the battery as much as possible. Ace quickly grew so sick that he staggered, bending over and retching occasionally. Sweat poured down his forehead, and he swayed on his feet whenever he stood up straight.

I looked at his wound and gasped. I thought about the medical terms I had heard. Supuration, the wound discharging pus, draining the fluids of dying tissue and leaking it all over his skin. Necrosis, the living flesh being eaten as the man watches. None of these words covered the true horror of what we saw. Ace walked for as long as he could, but as we went on, I could smell the wound more and more. Soon, it became all I could smell. It was nauseating, like raw meat rotting on a wet summer day combined with a strange, fetid bacterial odor.

It drove me crazy, made me want to vomit. I couldn't imagine what Ace felt in those last dark hours. I had once seen a movie called Requiem for a dream, where the heroin addict's arm had gotten infected. Streaks of black and purple spread across his skin, leading back to his heart, the central point of the infection rotting and spreading throughout his body as he watched it eat him alive. I had never seen anything like it, at least until this moment. Looking at the wound on his arm, the red, inflamed veins bulging out, the black rotting skin in the center, the flesh separating and falling off, it tore at the limits of my sanity.

I had to look away, but when I closed my eyes, I still saw it. And I always smelled it. I'm dying, he said. We'll get you help, I said, not believing it. He shook his head. I can't do this anymore. I can't take that smell, the smell of my body decaying. I can feel my skin separating, I can feel the pus running out.

I can feel my body rotting from the inside. inside. I can see it, he began to cry. Just go. Leave me with the shotgun and one slug. I'm not going on. I can't take it anymore. No, no, I started to say, but Jansen interrupted. He's right, she said. He is dying. Even if we had medical attention, at this point, I don't know if they could save him. The sepsis has spread and the limb needs to be amputated. But we have no antibiotics, not even a single capsule of penicillin. He needs immediate intravenous antibiotics to have any chance. Leave me the gun, he said.

I did. I dropped the shotgun next to him, putting a lead slug carefully on the ground next to it. He laid down, his face pale and sweaty, his eyes wide and terrified. Now go. You shouldn't have to see this. You don't have to do this, I said, making one last few. able attempt to change his mind. He shook his head. I'm not afraid of dying, old friend. I'm not afraid of suicide. I know some of those Jesus freaks say it ruins your eternal soul or whatever,

but I think we both know an infinite God, if he exists, probably doesn't give a damn. Every man owes a death, after all, and we'll all get there somehow. But at least I took down a lot of those damn necrovores in the end. Maybe that will be enough to get me entrance into Valhalla. Do you think? I felt a tear creeping down my cheek. Blinking quickly, I brushed the tears away. I think you'll have a front row seat in Volhalla, Ace. Save me a seat. Take care, I said, knowing he could do nothing of the sort. Turning sadly, we walked away. And as Jansen and I went down the tunnel, I heard a single shot of a shotgun blast echoing from behind us.