Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - A Peaceful New Year’s Eve in Greenland That Ended in Blood, Shock, and Unanswered Questions PART2 #74

Episode Date: July 19, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #GreenlandTragedy #UnsolvedHorror #FrozenMystery #DarkFamilySecrets #MidnightTerror  The horror deepens. As investigators dig into the chilling events of that night, more disturbing truths come to light—hidden motives, vanished people, and evidence that shouldn’t exist. What was supposed to be a celebration became a descent into madness. The silence of Greenland hides something monstrous, and it’s still out there.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, Greenlandtragedy, unsolvedcase, familysecrets, northernhorror, NewYearsEveMystery, truecrimehorror, investigationgonewrong, remoteislandterror, terrifyingrevelations, bloodymystery, midnightviolence, unansweredfears, disturbedtruths, realhorrorstories

He's gone, I said slowly and sadly, the sound of the gunshot ringing through my head. Jansen shook her head, as if clearing it. We need to get out of here, she said, or will be joining him. We have no food, no guaranteed access to water, no medical treatment, will probably starve, but if anything happens, we might die much faster. I sighed. My stomach churned and felt tight. I was so hungry that it hurt.

A dull pain arose in my midsection, a constant reminder that I hadn't eaten a meal in far too long. Starvation, I knew, could take at least a few weeks, especially if the person had some body fat and muscle before they began. And yet, with us walking dozens of miles beneath the earth in these caves, that optimistic projection of a few weeks until dying from starvation narrowed to significantly less. Just as bad, and perhaps worse, I had run low on ammo. I felt in my pocket for more shotgun slugs. I counted 17 left. I would keep one for myself, in case I were facing some horrible, slow death and needed a way out. This meant that, when we were inevitably attacked, I had only 16 shots I could fire.

These problems circled around my head over and over as we walked. Jansen spoke little. Her breathing sounded heavy, and her posture looked much more slump than the gung-ho, straight-p backed woman I had first met. It looked to me like she was giving up hope. I tried to cheer her up. There must be dozens of exits in this place, I said. Think about it. Those white mutant humanoid things, the keepers, they're feeding those huge red beasts which they call the necrophors, right? At least, they're feeding them sometimes. I have a feeling that the necrovores could easily hunt for themselves.

They're a clear apex predator. Perhaps the keepers just want to keep them secret, though. Get to the point, Jansen said. What about the exits? We have seen exactly one exit and entrance to this goddamn place. Okay, I said, the keepers have to be bringing in meat from multiple openings. It wouldn't make sense for them to just have one opening, the one we came in, and then walk hundreds of miles under the ground.

They presumably try to feed the necrovers in this stretch of tunnel as well. So they must be going up and out, hunting or stealing food or whatever, bringing it back. So, you're saying that if we can find one and follow it, then maybe, Jansen began, but her words cut off quickly as a shriek came from behind us. I spun, raising my already loaded gun and snapping the safety off. The sleek, black Benelli shotgun felt like an extension of my body by this point. until I ran out of bullets, that was, and it became just an expensive metal club. Jansen reacted as fast as myself, snapping on an LED light to give us more illumination.

The white light shot out, blinding me for a moment. In comparison to the dull, purplish light of the fungus that grew on the sides and walls of the tunnels, it looked like the sun itself. A massive red blur disappeared down the hall from behind us, its eerie cry reminiscent of a steam whistle receding with it. I looked around for more signs that we were being followed and stalked, but it looked empty behind us. We kept moving forwards, and the main tunnel ended, splitting into left and right corridors, both the same size and without any indication of which one to take. By this point, I had given up any hope of seeing the kidnapped boy again. I wasn't even sure I would survive. We went left, and further up, the tunnel split again.

We went left again, and eventually, I smelled something new, roasting meat. My stomach immediately began to flip an ache as the scent wafted through the tunnel. I smell food. I said quietly, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice. Food. Meat. Oh, thank God. We walked forward side by side, going faster by this point.

Even Janssen's eyes gleamed. I am so hungry, I could eat one of those necrovores, she said. I bet they taste like chicken. They look more like lobsters, I said. Nice and red, with a thick shell. I bet if you boiled them alive, and got a little melted butter, suddenly, I found a tunnel blocked by a necrovor. I instinctively jumped and raised my gun, almost firing straight into it. Then I saw that it had a bullet through the center of its chest. It looked dead, laying on its back with its dark red eyes staring up at the ceiling,

its branching, insectal legs curled up in a pathetic way like a desiccated house spider. What the fuck? Jansen asked, her expression twisting into confusion. Who shot this one? You. I shrugged. It had to be one of us, I said. Perhaps the last time they attacked us, one of us hit one in the stomach and it ran off,

then once it got here. It finished dying from blood loss or organ failure or whatever took it out in the end. That would be my guess. Jansen had knelt beside the corpse of the necrow, moving one of its stiff legs aside to get closer to its open mouth full of hundreds of sharp teeth. I saw her feeling around for something in her pocket. I have to use the bathroom, I lied, now genuinely curious as to what kind of scheme Jansen was up to. I had had a feeling, ever since I first met her. her, that there was something more to her being here than just a state cop wanting to tag along with rangers. I walked down the tunnel, and when it began to curve, I pretended to move against the wall and start urinating. But I was watching Jansen. She reached into her inner coat pocket

and took out a clear glass vial with a black top. Kneeling down in front of the necrow, I saw her dip the vial in its mouth, presumably to collect some of its bloody saliva, then screw on the top. I started walking back, and she quickly tucked the vial back into her inner coat pocket. Jansen quickly backed up a couple steps from the necrovor, changing her facial expression into the pale, indifferent looks she had worn for what felt like days now. But the real Jansen was under there. I had seen it. And she was up to something. I debated bringing up what I had seen, confronting her directly, but I decided against it. I would confront her. her when the time was right, but for now, survival seemed more important.

We left the necrovor behind and began to go down the tunnel, towards the delicious smells of roasting meat that had grown much stronger now. Up ahead, I saw a ray of light shining into the cave. My heart soared. It was real sunlight. And that meant only one thing, an exit. I was going to run up ahead when I heard Jansen clicked the safety of her gun off, cock the hammer and tell me two words, don't move. She was only a few feet behind me.

I still had my shotgun strapped around my shoulder, and I was looking forwards, away from her. She had all the advantages. I knew that, most likely, I was doomed, and would die right here, on the floor of a cave, without my family ever knowing what happened. Take your shotgun and drop it on the floor, slowly, Jansen said. If you turn, I will shoot you. I did as she asked. Keep looking away from me. Now, I saw your expression when you first saw the necrovers at the entrance of the cave, and you didn't even look the slightest bit surprised. So I'm going to ask you one question, and one question only. Have you seen them before? Yes, I said softly, remembering. About half a year before the events with

Ace and Jansen in the cave, I had been alone in my log cabin. I made a full pot of coffee, cleaned and oiled my guns, and decided to go shooting. After pouring a huge thermos of boiling hot coffee, I grabbed my Winchester 30-30, a beautiful gun with a polished walnut stock. I headed outside, setting up targets to shoot. I had gone to the dump, grabbed an old air conditioner and a metal trash lid, and I set these up at different distances. Because this was summer, the air smelled fresh and clean. The night time had come, and with no pollution and no clouds, all of the stars in the sky seemed to radiate a bright, pure light.

It seemed as if blue flames shot out of my gun for a split second when I fired in the darkness. I'd instantly hear the ping of metal as it connected with one of my targets. I had gone on this way for a while when the crying and shrieking had started from the woods nearby. No one lived near me, so I instantly. instantly went on high alert. For a few seconds, I tried to convince myself it was just a fox or a fisher cat, but I had heard both, and it sounded different. This seemed much louder, and almost synthetic. I reloaded my gun, stuffing an extra clip into my pocket, and began to follow the sounds. Then I heard a gunshot, then too, and the screaming grew louder. I sprinted ahead, dodging

roots and rocks, moving between the evergreen and birch trees growing thick in this part of the forest. The insects had mostly fallen silent after the gunshots, and the wilderness had an eerie, silent quality to it now, as if everything in these woods were staying quiet so they could hear what happens next. And then I caught glimpses of them, two men and a red, insectal beast that stood over eight feet tall. The men looked panicked and certainly had no sharpshooting skills. They had emptied their clips from the look of it, but I only saw a couple small trails of blood on the insectoid creature, namely from shallow grooves that ran over the side of its chest and above one shoulder. It moved forward in a rage and used its razor-sharp

fingers to slip the nearest man's throat. Then it moved on to the next man. I was running as fast as I could, trying to get within range to save the man's life. In horror, I watched the beast jerk its head forward, its mouth opening wide as its jaw disengaged, and bit off the surviving man's legs at the knees. I screamed, no, and stopped running, looking through the sight and opening fire. I hit the red creature a few times in the head, right between its dark, staring eyes, and after a few seconds of screaming, it fell back. I ran forwards, going to the injured man and shaking him. What was that? I yelled at him. Who are you? What are you doing? He shook his head slowly, as if trying to clear it,

then looked up at me. My name is Constantine, he said in a thick accent. I am an agent for the FSB, an agent for my home country of Russia. I would not normally tell you this, but I am dying. That creature dash, he pointed at the huge red thing lying dead on the ground, has a bacteria in its body that has immense potential as a biological warfare agent. It can cause septic shock in any human, and most antibiotics have no effect. A millionth of a drop of what that creature has could kill a man, and when the postmortem is done, it will look like just a runaway bacterial infection, something anyone could get. Thanks, I said, putting a bullet into his head.

Then I buried the two Russian agents and the red creature in a single mass grave. The soft Alaskan soil covered them all quickly. No one would have access to any biological weapons from these creatures while I was alive, not if I could help it. I told all this to Jansen, if that was her real name, trying to kill as much time as possible. My only hope was for some deus ex machina, some sort of fortuitous savior who could stop her. Because, in my heart, I knew she would not let me live, no more than the Russian FSB agents would have let me live if they had had succeeded in killing the necrovore and knew I had seen. Jansen went pale, her face turning

into a deep scowl. And then she nodded. So, the Russians somehow heard about the necrovores, she said to herself. And now they want to take samples, just like us. Who are you with, really? I asked, I know you're no cop. I'm CIA, she said, smiling wide. I really do feel bad about this, but orders are orders. I was explicitly told that no witnesses should survive. The CIA wishes to take some necrovers alive and see if they can't be used as biological weapons in themselves, if released in an enemy country for instance, but for now, even just the extremely powerful bacterium is enough.

Goodbye, and I'm sorry. I closed my eyes, breathing fast. My time was up. I knew I would die now, shot in the back like a... a common criminal. But no shot came. Instead, I heard a surprised grunt of pain, and then a horrible gurgling, spitting sound started. I turned my head slowly, wondering if this was some sort of trick, and then I saw it, Jansen stood there with her throat cut, a fountain of blood pouring down the front of her clothes. Her eyes looked amazed and surprised, as if she had just

seen the world's greatest magic trick. And then she fell, her body landing hard on the stone floor, of the tunnel. Behind her, I saw Ace, his bloody folding knife held tightly in one trembling hand. His other hand looked black and dead, the fingers twisted strangely. Oh my God, Ace. I yelled in shock and bliss. I thought you were dead, soon, he said, falling himself on top of Janssen's body. I ran over to him, the smell of the rotting meat of his arm covering the entire area, but I was so happy I could hug him. How? I asked Ace. He looked up at me, his eyes watery and unfocused, and then he vomited up a stream of watered down blood. It fell on the hand of Jansen. I, was attacked, Ace said. That one single slug, I had to use it to shoot a necrovor that tried

to ambush me immediately after you guys left. And then someone started cooking, and I smelled meat. I had made my way slowly in the direction of the smell, and found one of those white mutants roasting a deer on a fire. They had stores of food in one room, mushrooms, ferns, meat and nuts, and it was huge. I hid behind a pile of deer skins, eating as much as I could, waiting to die, sipping some water that trickled down from the ceiling. And then I heard you in Jansen nearby. Your voices echoed. You scared away the white mutant, the keeper, who was cooking. I heard Janssen's confession, and I killed her. He pointed to his arm. The black and purple rot had spread past his shoulder and begun to eat into his chest.

I'm almost done. Almost done. Will you give me peace? Will you do the coup to grace? I nodded, putting a slug in the chamber. Ace looked up at me, his eyes tearing up, his face reflecting the sadness and uncertainty deep within him. I'll tell everyone of your bravery, old friend, I said, pointing the gun at his forehead and pulling the trigger. There was a splash of blood and gore, and then I was alone. I took all the ammo and the gun off of Jansen, which gave me 19 rounds for the Ruger. And then I began to walk towards the sunlight I still saw streaming across the hallway, praying for an exit. I turned into the room and saw what Aes had seen. A deer roasted over a dying fire, a pile of edible

mushrooms on a deer skin in the corner, a pile of fiddleheads next to it, and a variety of edible herbs from the forest on the other side. Some dried, jerky-like meat also lay on a huge, flat rock under the sun. I saw with horrifying disappointment that the light came from a small hole in the ceiling, one where the smoke from the fire could escape. There was no way to get up there, unless I could transform into a spider, and the hole seemed too small to crawl through anyway. But it still gave me hope. It meant I wasn't thousands of feet below the ground, and that a real exit might be right around the corner. If only there weren't so many branching caverns to get lost in, I thought. I ate well, and then took a deerskin and began to

wrap up as much food as I could carry. It was undoubtedly the best meal of my life. After starving in the darkness for so long, even the most tasteless food seemed like ambrosia. I tied the deerskin to a long stick, like a hobo going off to a train, and, balancing it on my shoulder, went off by myself. I wandered for weeks, eating as little as I could from the food. I found another kitchen, in which the keepers stored food on the second week, with elk meat and more dried mushroom stored there, and took what I could. Cold mountain streams flowed through the caves periodically, giving me water to drink. And yet, I found no exit, and though I caught glimpses of white hands or red shells behind me, the enemy seemed happy to simply stalk me and watch. Until I neared the

end, that was. It came suddenly, a huge archway up ahead past a bend in the cavern. Because it was night, I didn't even realize at first what I saw. But the light of the moon looked so different from the dull, purplish light of the mold that I realized with ecstasy that I must be close to the end of this eternal cave. I started to run, and that was when the ambush was sprung. They came from everywhere, keepers in coarse brown robes and flashes of red from the necrovers surrounding me. The necrovores spat and hissed while the keepers rambled in their strange, high-pitched yammering language. I dropped my remaining food on the ground, seeing it spill out on the floor in slow motion as my adrenaline spiked, then in a blur, I had the Ruger.454 in my hand.

I ran towards the door, emptying all six rounds at those necrovores closest to me. I aimed for their dark red eyes, a technique which had worked well in previous battles. I tried to clog the tunnel with the corpses of those nearest, but the smaller ones behind writhed and wriggled past the twisted, bleeding bodies of their siblings. I was almost at the exit, however. I could feel the fresh air by this point. I felt hands grabbing at me from behind. Grabbing the Ruger, I began to pistol whip anything and everything near, eventually feeling the hands release after a couple seconds.

One of them grabbed at the pistol and it fell to the floor. I had no time to pick it up. Now I had necrovores on each side of me, and they moved in a blur, their legs skittering forwards as their bodies twisted from side to side in hungry anticipation. Their mouths opened wide and their claws began to whip through the air as I grabbed the shotgun, opening fire. The first one, I blew off its hand. It shrieked, looking down as blood pumped out of the stump, then began to backpedal, knocking the necrovor behind it down. The second one jumped straight at me, its huge maw opened wide. I could see down its sleek, wet throat. It aimed at my

face, and I began to shoot blindly, hitting its open mouth three or four times. It fell to the floor a few inches from me, and I heard a click as the shotgun ran out of ammo. As I ran, I put my last bullets in the shotgun, shooting behind me and hitting a couple of those who would kill me. I felt in my pocket and realized I was now down to two bullets. I sprinted through the exit, grabbing for the very last rounds. I saw those creatures coming through the stone door, and, after slamming a slug in the chamber, dropped a large necrovore at the threshold. It fell noise blocking the door to those behind him, and I ran. I ran for what felt like hours, until I saw a small curl of smoke up ahead. I found a small Eskimo village on the coastline. An elderly woman in a little

shack opened the door. Someone in the town had a ham radio, which they used to call for help and get me evacuated. When I first got back and saw myself in a mirror, I was horrified. I had lost many pounds and looked thin and frail, my cheekbones sharp and angular, my haunted eyes sunken deep in my skeletal face. I could count every rib on my chest, and my legs looked like sticks covered in skin. I didn't tell my boss the whole story, or anyone else, for that matter. I had been missing for weeks, and mostly said I got lost in the tunnels when looking for a missing boy, which was true, to an extent. I did not tell them about the necrovores, however, or the brave actions of that saved my life. That was a story I kept to myself, until now.