My hands trembled uncontrollably.
In the darkness, Marcus and I were frozen, cold seeping through our bodies.
In an instant, every terrifying conjecture flooded my mind. Neither of us dared to speak.
"What are you two doing?"
Kevin's voice drifted up from the narrow stairwell, echoing in the confined space like a ghost's whisper.
Marcus and I turned our heads stiffly. I could hear the creaking in my own neck.
Marcus aimed his flashlight. Kevin's pale face appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing a subtle smile.
A profound terror seized me. My grip went slack, and the photograph drifted to the floor.
"What's this?"
Kevin walked toward us, his footsteps utterly soundless.
My feet were rooted to the ground. I couldn't move — I could only watch him approach.
Marcus jolted and stepped in front of me, shielding me with his body.
I looked up, practically tearful with gratitude. Marcus, my dear senior — I hadn't spent all that time doting on you for nothing!
---
Chapter 2: The Underground Ice Cave
---
I slept badly.
The ship's metal hull blocked out all light. In the total darkness, I felt freezing cold, as if I'd been submerged in glacial water.
It was quiet around me — only the gentle rhythm of breathing.
By now we'd abandoned any pretense of propriety. All four of us huddled together for warmth.
But it was still unbearably cold. I stared at the cabin ceiling, unable to fall asleep.
The person next to me breathed slowly and steadily, apparently fast asleep.
My hands and feet ached from the cold, but I didn't dare move, afraid of waking everyone.
In that hazy, half-awake state, I suddenly heard a screeching sound.
My eyes snapped open.
Was I imagining it?
I shifted slightly, angling my ear outward.
Not long after, the screeching came again.
It sounded like a colossal creature wailing in agony from very far away. The sound was piercing — even at this distance, it set my teeth on edge.
A layer of cold sweat formed on my back. I shrank deeper into my sleeping bag.
What was that? The wind? Or... whatever the journal had described?
I was about to nudge Marcus beside me when a soft rustling came from nearby.
For some reason, my first instinct was to squeeze my eyes shut, leaving only a slit open.
A dark silhouette appeared silently above our heads.
In the darkness, my heart hammered like a drum.
A faint cigarette smell drifted over. I exhaled in relief — it was Professor Marshall.
Just scared myself.
Professor Marshall glanced at us, then got up and left the ship.
I didn't think much of it. Probably just needed a smoke.
Drowsiness washed over me, and I let my eyes fall closed.
---
The next morning, I unzipped my sleeping bag and rubbed my frozen hands.
That sleep had left me aching all over, cold seeping from my very bones.
Serena had already washed her face with snow water and was carefully applying lipstick.
The cold had frozen the lipstick rock-solid. She breathed on it several times before managing to get it on her lips.
Serena smacked her lips, shaping a full pout.
She caught me watching and turned away with a little huff.
I couldn't resist teasing her. "Putting on lipstick in Antarctica? Who are you trying to impress — the penguins? Does Q-coin give you a discount?"
Serena rolled her eyes. "Tomboys. What do you know?"
Before I could respond, Professor Marshall came over and handed out compressed biscuits. "Eat up, then we head out early. Finish sampling and figure out how to get back."
I tore open the packaging with fingers stiff and sore from the cold.
My stomach was churning with acid, growling loudly. I never knew compressed biscuits could smell so good, taste so delicious.
I fought the urge to devour the whole pack and tucked the remainder into my bag.
"AHHHH—!!!"
Serena's terrified scream echoed from the cabin!
We scrambled down. In the dimness, Serena sat on the floor, her whole body shaking violently.
She pressed herself against the wall behind her, legs still kicking, trying to push herself backward.
"What happened?!" Marcus hurried down and helped her up. "What did you see?"
Serena looked up at us, pale and trembling, her lips quivering too hard to form words. She pointed at the floor in front of her.
Her flashlight lay on its side, rolling lazily across the ground, its bright beam blocked by piles of debris, casting enormous shadows across the rear of the cabin.
Kevin walked over and aimed his flashlight at the patch of floor Serena was pointing at.
A brownish object lay motionless on the ground.
"What is it?" I walked over and picked it up.
Dark, shriveled skin clung tightly to five slender finger bones, frozen stiff. On the ring finger sat a thin silver band.
This was... a hand!
A hand severed cleanly at the wrist!
My body started shaking uncontrollably. I hurled the hand to the floor!
Why would there be a hand on a research vessel?!
Where was the rest of this person?!
We were all practically out of our minds with horror. The severed hand lay on the ground like a live grenade — no one dared go near it.
Serena sobbed, "How can there be a hand?! Where did all the people on this ship go?!"
"Is this some kind of ghost ship?!"
"Nonsense!" Professor Marshall came down the stairs.
He frowned. "You're all scared of your own shadows! This is a research vessel! It's not a ghost ship!"
"But —" Serena cried, "Professor, there's a hand here! A severed hand! Why would anyone cut off their own hand!"
Professor Marshall scowled and picked up the desiccated hand.
He examined it without the slightest trace of fear, turning it over in his hands.
"Most likely frostbite — the person didn't protect themselves properly, the hand went necrotic, and they had it amputated.
Stop being so pathetic. Wipe your tears and gather your things. We're heading out."
He tossed the hand carelessly to the floor and turned to leave.
I scrubbed the hand that had touched the dead hand against the cabin wall, desperate to get the feeling off my skin. Touching a dead person's limb made my whole body crawl.
Serena wiped her tears with a shudder, stealing one last frightened glance at the hand before following us out.
Marcus sidled up beside me. "You okay? Scared?"
I shook my head. "The Professor said it was frostbite and amputation. Nothing to be scared of."
That's what I said, but something felt off.
Since when did research ships have surgical equipment advanced enough to perform amputations?
And if someone had their hand amputated, why would they leave the ring on?
But I couldn't think of any other explanation. I grabbed Marcus's sleeve and followed him out.
As I left the cabin, I saw Kevin silently crouch down and pick up the severed hand.
He didn't seem to mind the filth. He gripped the hand briefly, then gently set it back down on the floor.
---
Professor Marshall said the hand was from frostbite amputation, but our appetites were still ruined.
Every time I reached for a biscuit, I remembered that this hand had touched the severed limb. My stomach heaved.
I forced myself to eat two crackers and couldn't manage any more.
Once we'd forced down what we could, we all filed off the ship.
Stepping onto the gangway, my foot hit a patch of ice. I slipped and nearly fell.
"You okay?" Marcus caught me quickly. "Take it slow."
I nodded and pulled my hand away from the hull.
My skin stung slightly — I'd scraped it. I looked closer and saw three deep gashes torn into the ship's metal, mostly hidden under ice and snow. I'd brushed against a sharp edge and nicked my hand.
I didn't dwell on it and carefully made my way down.
The weather was decent today — cloudless, the sky a clear, brilliant blue. We trudged along, each step leaving a boot print, heading toward the coordinates in the journal.
Professor Marshall seemed in a particular rush, head down, walking so fast that even Marcus with his long strides had trouble keeping up.
Serena panted, "Professor, slow down! We can't keep up!"
He didn't acknowledge her, just kept walking.
I had a strange feeling — Professor Marshall was walking as if he knew exactly where to go.
I pressed my aching, frozen knees and pushed myself to keep up.
We walked for I don't know how long until a massive glacier gradually appeared before us.
Professor Marshall stopped abruptly. "This is it. Be careful — don't fall into the ice cracks."
Yesterday Professor Marshall had nearly led us into a trap, and today he was suddenly this certain? I was skeptical.
How could he be so sure? Was he just guessing?
Marcus's eyes also showed distrust. He whispered, "Professor, are you sure? There's nothing special around here."
Professor Marshall gripped the journal, reading and rereading it, then pointed ahead. "No mistake. The ice cave mentioned in these notes should be right around here. Let's search the area."
I wasn't convinced. No satellite map, no proper gear — and we're supposed to have found the spot just like that?
But I didn't want to undermine Professor Marshall's authority, so I followed behind him as we searched.
Professor Marshall called out warnings as we walked. "Watch for ice crevasses on the ground. Be careful — if someone falls in, there's no rescue."