Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Richard Jackson Faces a Killer, a Tupilaq, and Madness in the Arctic Nightmare #29

Episode Date: August 22, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #arctichorror #tupilaq #survivalhorror #mentalbreakdown #indigenousmyths  In the frozen desolation of the Arctic, Richard Jackson confronts horrors beyond human comprehension. Haunted by a relentless killer and an ancient Inuit Tupilaq—an avenging spirit brought to life—his mind teeters on the edge of madness. This chilling tale blends folklore and survival horror, exploring the thin line between reality and nightmare in the unforgiving Arctic wilderness.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, arcticsurvival, tupilaqcurse, killerhunt, folklorehorror, mentalmadness, isolatedterror, supernaturalhorror, chillingstory, wildernesshorror, inuitmythology, horrorfiction, darkfolklore, psychologicalhorror, fearoftheunknown

A Tupilac means a Tupilac in Greenlandic, did you know that? Spirits live in them. Meet Henry Longwood. Deputy of police Richard Jackson was sitting in a cobalt blue institutional armchair, casting a sad glance at his normal, self-satisfied assistant, Omar, who had fallen into a psychotic swamp because he had crushed his foot in a previous short story. Omar loved Little House on the Prairie, but the crushed foot had triggered his otherwise well-buried war traumas. An unsympathetic psychiatrist named Tim Day had explained this to Richard Jackson.

And now Omar was indeed admitted to the closed ward. For fuck's sake, thought Richard, and didn't have the heart to tell Omar that he was sitting down, eating a cactus plant, and not a Greenlandic eye-catcher. Instead, he just smiled and asked Omar if he would like another piece of marzipan roulette. Omar wanted that very much wood. For fuck sake, what a shit time to become men. ill, thought Richard, thinking about the psychopathic serial killer who had apparently killed and mutilated more than 100 Greenlanders since 1980 with surgical precision and looked at his watch.

1147, it was a good time to start drinking. Cutaway, a double vodka tonic and a little bit of lime, asked Richard, who was sitting at a bar with his laptop in front of him. What he needed to do, that required hard liquor. We have no lime, said the almost supernaturally ugly bar. bartender with front teeth the size of a football stadium. Bullshit, said Richard, I can see a lime from here. That lime is not for you, replied the bartender. Richard looked angrily at him. Is it for Bruce Springsteen, or what?

Listen, if you want to experience the rest of your life, just give me that lime right now, he said angrily. The bartender gave up and served the drink. It was just for fun, the bartender said. Do you think I am just here for fun? Do think I like it, huh? asked Richard rhetorically, before turning his attention to the PC screen and that video that had recently appeared on a desk in the basement of his department. The video was horrifying, don't look, Limp, I'll never get up again if I fall again.

What a day to lose one's foot. Fuck! Fuck! Limp dash, limp, he must not hear me, has he heard me? Should my life really end like this? Richard could hear a panicked Greenlander say in Greenlandic, after consulting a Greenlandic interpreter. He had lost his foot that now carried a trail of something ominous red behind it.

Suddenly, the Greenlanders were struck by something that could well be a poisonous dart from a blowgun and toppled over. Ha, ha, ha, the murderer laughed brutally, while he with stoic calmness, approaches the Greenlander and retrieved a pair of surgical scissors. and a bottle of liquid nitrogen. He freezes the Greenlander to death, whose life must have been reduced to a nightmare. He first removes his tongue, then nipples grinning. He then cuts off the penis, laughing, and then his head, smiling. He then walks, with the remains of the Greenlander wrapped around him like a cloak, like a brutal trophy. I wonder he enjoys killing. Richard thought,

I think he does, Richard speculated. He needed some am. air. He left the bar, without knowing it would be the last thing he did that day. Only the laptop left on the beer-soaked counter of the bar would be capable of indicating his presence was even there to begin with, fade to black. And back again, it is so cold here, thought Richard to himself as he woke up. And it was dark too. For fuck's sake, he thought. Where could he be? Would you like to know where you are deputy of police Richard Jackson? A ominous voice at. asked. Richard tried to open his mouth, but he was unable to do so. Actually, he was unable to do anything. He must have been drugged, he thought. You are drugged, said the voice. Afterwards Richard was

elevated upwards, so that he stood upright, and could look out at what in any other situation would have been impressive specimen of a snowy landscape. In the middle of it stood an igloo. It's my igloo, explained the voice. It is made of Greenlander. The handles in the kitchen are the nipples, and the handles in the bathroom are eyes, and you shall be the sofa, Richard tried to protest, but at that moment a loud metallic sound rang out, and he could see a gigantic electric saw approaching him. I guess that is it, he thought. He started remembering his poor relationship with his son, then Omar, then the asylum,

then Alice in his bed, his childhood home, the dog, yes, everything actually. Then he suddenly felt a sting in his son. his thigh. It was Omar's cactus slash Tupilac that Omar had forgotten to Richard that he had taken it with him. Then something happened that to this day Richard still cannot comprehend. Henry Longwood's spirit stepped in, accompanied by a blue golden retriever, dumpy, reincarnated perhaps out of the cactus. It was as if he was as alive as in real life. Afterward, it got cold in the cold room and it was filled with the most fantastic light, blue, and a black, yellow, orange, pink, light pink, mint green, asparagus green.

As a thousands of sparklers tied together, like dental floss in a dental floss box, gathered light into laser beams and Henry Longwood's eyes, blew up the brutal murderer into a million pieces. Richard and Omar each got their own medal, the end. Alternative ending. I have a secret, thought Omar, as he watched over his friend and colleague, Richard Jackson, by the hospital bed. It was actually him who had stopped the brutal murderer, because he happened to sit on the exercise bike where there had laid open case files about a former patient who had been sexually abused by a Greenlander throughout his childhood, and had expressed a desire for revenge. The warm psychosis had disappeared like due in the sun,

and there had even been an address where he had himself had taken a taxi out and shot and killed the murderer. But Richard never needed to know. It was good. for him to believe in something. Whether that was Henry Longwood's ghost, thought Omar, as he looked at the two medals he had received. He could not wait to give the other medal to Richard. The end.