The SCP Experience - Mt. Everest's Anomalous Frozen Corpses | SCP-5140

Episode Date: May 28, 2021

SCP Foundation EUCLID class object, SCP-5140: Mt. Everest's Anomalous Frozen Corpses  Written By: ROUNDERHOUSE This story was derived from http://www.scpwiki.com/scp-5140, and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/ #scp #drscp #scpstories #scpexplained Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

It's never too early to plan your summer story in Europe with WestJet, from rolling countryside to cobblestone streets. Begin your next chapter. Book your seat at westjet.com or call your travel agent. WestJet, where your story takes off. Biennue at board of VIAE. Embarked and profited. Embarked and relax. Ciroat.

Bookine. Oh, that also. And profite. Via Rai, the voice that we love that we love. It's so cold, but however cold I think it is, it's probably much, much colder. At this point, the wind and snow have whipped my cheeks so hard they barely feel anything. Small blessing, I guess. My feet aren't so lucky. Every step I take drives my snowshoe a foot deep into the snow. We're up at 7,700 meters by now. Everett's summit is at 8,800.

Tomorrow we'll enter what's popularly called the Death Zone. The area above 8,000 meters where there isn't enough air to sustain human life. That's why we packed the oxygen. After that, we'll crest the summit and come back down from the Chinese route. I'm shaken out of my reverie by a noise. I've been trudging forward through the lashing wind and snow, pulled by the rope of Davies ahead of me and Samuel behind. But through the shrill screaming of the blizzard, I can just hear Davies yell my name. I freeze and my eyes adjust. Ahead of Davies, the snow sags just a little bit. But through the It signals the presence of a crevasse, filled with snow. If any of us had stepped on it, the snow would have collapsed,

and we'd be sitting in a vertical trench 40 feet deep with no way out. I let out a breath that had frozen inside my chest. We set up the ladder to span the crevice and slowly move across it. We all make it to the other side when a spare ice pick that was hanging off Samuel's pack slips off. It crashes onto the fluffy white snow and is instantly swallowed up. We're left staring at the arm-sized patch of emptiness where it landed less than a second ago. This time, Davies is the one who let out a whistle. We keep moving.

The sun is going to set in just a little bit, and we need to get to a safe spot to hunker down for the night. Trying to climb in the night is suicide on Everest. We've just about found a nice, rocky patch to set up our tents on when the steel tip of my boot clunks on something. I freeze again. Then force my eyes open and look down. A brown, desiccated hand sticking out of the snow. Its fingers extend towards my boot.

I draw a sharp breath. That was a close one. Then I yell to the others. Body. They both turn for a second before Davey yells in response. He's only 10 feet away, but we have to scream to hear anything over the gale. Sam, set up the tents. I'll help Tom.

He trudges over, pulling his collapsible spade off his pack, and quickly popping it open. We get to work. That is what we're here for, after all. Briefings were very clear. Our job was to summit Everest from the Nepal side and come down from the Chinese side, using the most popular route and to bury any and all bodies we came across. I don't really know why. The foundation is big on need to know, and I guess they decided I didn't need to know. Davies probably did, since he was team lead. The rest of us just got handed climbing gear in a shovel, and we're told to get to work.

I uncover its torso while Davies digs a new hole on the soft snow a good meter, meter, and a half feet for it. It's an adult female. I've seen enough of these bodies to register that. The only splash of color on the dried blood brown body is a yellow scarf around its neck. To confirm, it's a 5140. I sprinkle a little water on it.

It makes contact with the skin before instantly freezing and shattering. I shudder and instantly regret complaining about our footwear. If that had made contact with my skin. Davies finishes with the hole, though the weather is doing its best to reverse his progress. We use the tips of our survival shovels to push and roll the body into the shallow grave. It lands with a solid thump. Then we get to work filling in the snow.

The whole process takes about half an hour. By now, the sun is set, and it's getting dark very quickly. I give the snow a quick pat down to solidify it, and we start trudging back towards the tents. The blizzard is getting worse. Samuels is standing outside waiting for us. We hurriedly crawl inside our tents. The other two share one, and I'm in the other with the packs and equipment.

In here, the wind and snow doesn't reach. It's a sudden respite. I open my pack and grab the thing that vaguely resembles a small laptop. I flip the screen open. It's a satellite computer, one of the only ways to communicate with the ground from up here. I type in a quick status update to command. Four bodies today, buried all, going to drop zone tomorrow and hit send. I don't expect a response this quickly, so I put it back in the pack,

strip off my coat and boots, and squirm myself into my sleeping bag. Climbing is exhausting work. I'm out like a light. By the time I'm out of my tent the next morning, the others are already suited up and ready to go. It's just before the crack of dawn. The blizzard has mostly subsided, or at least moved farther up. We work in silence to dismantle the tents, back everything up, and get moving again. It's uncharacteristically quiet on the mountain, just the crunching of fresh fallen snow under our feet.

As we leave camp, I swear I can still see the raised lump of snow, where we buried this stiff last night. We start making our way up the mountain. The air is thin here, which means clouds are a non-issue. You can see all the way down. We've only been walking for maybe 45 minutes before Davies calls out. Body. He and Samuels get it this time. This one's relatively fresh.

The skin hasn't frozen over or sloughed away. Lots of frostbite, though. Seems exposure got them. Just as he's finished digging the hole, Samuels loses his footing in the sock. He flings out a hand to break his fall, and it lands right on the shriveled chest of the corpse. It's barely a second before he jumps back,

but it's a second too late. His furred glove has already frozen itself to the corpse's chest, trapping his hand inside it. I immediately start running through the snow towards them. But Davies is closer. He wraps his arms around Sam's chest and heaves backward, both falling on their asses as the glove gives way. For my part, I freeze when I come up next to them. The tips of the fingers on Sam's hand are blackened and gangrenous, advancing and withering away as we watch. Davies lets go of him and scrambles backward, pulling out his bladed shovel. In only four seconds, the blackish rot has already crawled.

to his wrist and it's not slowing down. The tips of his fingers where it started have turned hard and blue. They're frozen. It's dead silent, except for the eternal screeching of the wind. Quietly, I unholster my service weapon, but Sam beats me. Using his free hand, he reaches behind him and frees his pack, letting it fall behind him. He pops out his pistol and looks at me with a terrified look in his eyes, the kind of thing you see from a deer in the headlights. Sam, don't do, Tell them I did good, Tom. Make sure my family gets the money. Then he turns around and lunges at the corpse, tackling it. The momentum rolls them both into the hole he just finished digging.

They slammed to the bottom. A moment later, we hear a gunshot from the bottom. It echoes around the mountains. I fall into my hands. Jesus Christ! We buried them fast and deep. No conversation, no memoriam. We split up what was in his pack and leave behind an empty, unmarked grave.

With only the two of us, the ascent is faster, but more dangerous. We find more and more bodies up here. The death zone is where most Everest deaths happen, fittingly. All the danger of climbing is multiplied the closer you get to the top. Plus altitude sickness crossed with the risk of simply suffocating from the thin air. We alternate between digging the hole and uncovering the bodies. We do it slowly. After Sam, we'd be stupid to take any risks.

Every corpse I shovel the snow off. I see his face for a split second. Then it fades and I'm looking at whatever poor fucker didn't make it to the top. Eight more bodies buried that day, not counting Sam. The first time I hear Davy say something is when the sun is setting and we're putting up camp. We share a tent and we're huddling around the camp stove as it warms rations for us. Then, out of nowhere, his head shoots up and turns toward the zipper. Did you hear that?

I freeze for the second time that day. Then I hear it. A thump, thump outside. So soft you would miss it if you weren't listening for it. We pick up our pistols from where they're resting on our parkas. I crawl to the front of the tent and unzip it ever so slightly. It's just as desolate, windy, and snow-covered as when we entered. Nothing's moving.

Then I hear it again, thump-thump. I nod to Davies and open the zip entirely. We move out, raising our guns. It's coming from the edge of the mountain near a fresh snowdrift. I approach. Then I realize it's coming from under the snowdrift, muffled by it. Davies takes up position next to it with his gun while I start shoveling.

It only takes two or three scoops before my shovel hits something hard. Another 5140, adult female. Stuck in a particularly awkward position, its legs hang into a small crevasse, made invisible in the darkness. As the wind blows, its bony legs knock between the sides of the fissure. Thump-thump. We quickly dig a new hole. I guess this one was buried by some other team, but evidently not deep enough. The last thing I see as I shovel new snow onto it is a bit of yellow fabric in its parquet,

shining reflectively off our lanterns. A scarf. We hit the South Summit the next day. The Hillary step is the last portion of the gauntlet that is Everest, a nearly vertical rock sheet 10 meters high, edged on both sides by a 2,500 meter drop. Climbing it is a challenge in the best of times. Over the next three hours, we achingly advanced meter by meter up the rock face. Every muscle in my body aches. In front of me, Davies inches upward before slamming a pick into help me. Then a pebble falls onto my helmet, making a ding before falling away. The ledge Davies' left foot rests on cracks. Davies left. He immediately pivots, just as the ledge gives way. His left foot dangles in the air for a second before he pulls himself higher,

finding a new foot rest. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. We make it to the top, eventually. The summit of Mount Everest is a site that is a site that is a impossible to convey in text, so I won't waste your time. Just, it really makes you realize how utterly tiny you are compared to the massive monuments of stone and snow around you. Hey Tom, take a picture of me. Davies hands me a tiny Kodak and poses with the sun behind him, giving a view into the entire Mahalongar Himmel. He smiles, the first time I've seen him do so since Samuels. Then, just as my finger falls onto the button, it turns into a face of open-mouthed horror. He screams.

The snow drift he's standing on puffs up as a brown, crusted hand shoots out, wrapping around his calf. He stumbles backwards right onto the edge. The body is pulled out after him, a 5140, its mouth open in a dry grin. Then I see its chest, a frozen black glove affixed to it. I rush forward, but it's too late. Davies balances on the edge for a split second. Then the 5140 is pulled out and knocks his legs out from underneath them. We make eye contact, then both of them vanish.

I hear them scream all the way down. This isn't real. This can't be happening. They're dead. They're not zombies. They're not supposed to be able to move. Jesus. The one with the scarf?

I thought it was a coincidence. No, it followed us up. They're intelligent. Oh, God. I immediately turned around and tried to go back down. That's when I saw them at the bottom of the step. A 5140, dressed in all-black climbing wear and a foundation patch on its shoulder. Samuels.

Three, maybe four others behind him. All of them, ones I had thrown into shallow graves and buried on her way up, all staring up at me with those hungry, sunken teeth and eyes. There was no way I could make it off the summit without touching them. Davies had had the satellite communicator. It was over. I found this recorder in my bag. Forgot I had packed it.

To whichever climber or recovery team finds this, stop. You have to stop sending people up. There are so, so many more of these things than you think there are. You have to stop before more people die. The air is thin up here, which is probably why I'm not hyperventilating. No air to breathe, but it's not going to last. You can see the entire world from here. It's very beautiful.

It's so cold. I'm going to try to knock the corpses at the bottom of the step off the side before oxygen deprivation sets in. I'm going to leave the recording here with my pack. Please, don't send anyone after us. SCP 5140 refers to a number of frozen corpses scattered across Mount Everest. located in the Himalayas of Tibet. When physically exposed to heat of any form, including body heat, they will absorb it without raising their temperature, which rests at approximately 10 degrees Celsius, 50 degrees Fahrenheit. If an individual dies as

a result of contact with SCP 514 instances, their corpse will become another SCP 5140 instance. Recent excavation has revealed SCP 5140 instances form a significant portion of Everest itself. Currently, it is estimated 45% of Mount Everest's mass is formed by corpses. Thanks for listening. Be sure to hit that follow button to get notified every time I release a new episode. If you're tuning in on Apple Podcasts, please take a second to leave a rating. This helps the podcast grow tremendously. Thank you so much.

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