I fly cargo throughout the arctic. What I saw on my last trip might be the reason I get killed.
The ground crew had just loaded the last of our cargo onto the C-130.
It was a routine trip. One I had taken a handful of times. But this time I felt anxious.
Our loadmaster, Niko, was acting strange. Ever since we’d landed in Iceland, he’d kept re-checking the manifest and mumbling to himself about “maintaining secrecy.”
It seemed odd.
“Does Niko seem off today?” I asked my co-pilot, Hans, checking the instruments.
“No, he’s just stressed,” he said. “He’s always like that during a flight.”
Hans’ thick accent made him hard to understand at times, but he was dependable. And that counted for a lot in this line of work.
“We’ve got contact,” Hans said and tapped my shoulder.
The radio crackled.
“Hercules Two-Seven, this is Site Coordinator Skiff. Looking for Captain Doyle. Over.”
I grabbed the handset. “This is Doyle. Go ahead.”
“Captain, I’d like a brief word once you’re on the ground.”
“Copy. What’s this regarding?”
“Nothing urgent. Just meet me in the loading office when you’re refueling.”
“Understood,” I said, glancing at Hans. “Wonder what that’s about?”
He just shrugged.
We took off from the loading facility and began our final journey. The plan was to arrive at ****** Air Force Base in Greenland.
Our destination was isolated and far north, some people called it the “***** of the World.” The place was mostly known for aerospace and weather studies.
During our flight, I glanced back and caught Niko muttering to himself in the hold. He kept picking at his fingernails and shuffling his feet like he was nervous or expecting something.
What on earth is bothering him? I wondered.
We arrived at our destination and the ground crew swarmed us in seconds, going over the manifest with Niko and transporting goods off the plane.
I got up and stretched, feeling the blood return to my legs.
“Can I piss first?” Hans asked, clearing his throat.
“Sure.”
He got up and slid into the restroom. I warmed my hands and remembered Skiff’s request. I want to see you when you land.
It seemed like an odd ask.
I finished my thermos of coffee and made my way to the cargo station, braving the cold weather.
It was thirty-six degrees and the wind made it feel like minus seven.
I pulled the edges of my coat closer to my face to keep the biting air from seeping into my nostrils.
It was a brutal walk.
“Skiff’s right in there,” the security guard said and pointed down the hall.
I followed a long line of bulbs that led to an open doorway.
“Hello?” I rapped my knuckles on the wall. A voice responded, “Come in!”
It was Skiff.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Yes.” He sat at his desk, pouring a mug of coffee. “Have a seat. And try this! It’s hot.”
He handed me a drink and I sipped. Jesus. It was hot. “Why’d you ask for me?”
“Just a conversation. How long have you been flying with us, Doyle?”
I took a seat, trying not to get burned as I slurped another mouthful. “One year and eleven months.”
“Do you like it?”
“Pay is good.”
“A true mercenary.” Skiff chuckled. He motioned to a computer, making a long and exaggerated face. “I assume you’ve heard the stories on the news.”
“Not really.”
“About the incidents in ********?”
“I rarely use the internet.”
“Is that so?” Skiff drummed his fingers up and down like the legs of a calculating spider. “So you have no idea about the deaths.”
Deaths? “No. And honestly, I don’t care.”
Skiff laughed again and rubbed the side of his nose. “Truth is, I was worried that some of these stories had made their way out and made you nervous. You’re one of our best pilots. I’d hate for you to think this job is too hazardous and discourage you from making more trips.”
“It’d take a hell of a lot for me to resign.” I set the mug down in front of me. "Pays too high."
“Excellent.” He smiled.
It was about forty minutes later when I got back into the cockpit. The plane was unloaded and the fueling nearly complete.
“How’d your talk go?” Hans asked, emotionless.
“Fine,” I said, strapping myself into my seat.
I was eager to get home. My girlfriend, Nova, and I had been setting up plans for the summer.
We wanted to use some of my money to fly to Paris. See the Eiffel Tower. And the catacombs. It’d be a great place to get engaged.
As I settled into my seat, I glanced out the window and noticed… something moving toward us.
“Do you see that?” I asked, leaning forward.
“See what?”
It was some type of animal, running on all fours… heading straight for us… it was huge… like a polar bear…
I was so shocked that I could barely register the imagery. Then, a terrible thought hit me. “Is our ramp closed?!”
“I don’t think so —”
I got up. Snatched the SIG Sauer M18 from under my seat. Dashed out of the cockpit and found Niko in the hold.
The ramp was wide open.
“Niko! Close the ramp!”
He pulled out his earbuds and stared at me. “What?!”
“Shut the ramp!"
Suddenly… a huge shape reached in and pulled him out.
“Niko!”
He was gone so fast I barely had time to register it.
I dashed down the ramp, recoiling from the strong gusts of wind that hit my face.
When I reached the tarmac, I gasped in horror at…
… a creature, much larger than any polar bear I had ever seen. It was feasting on Niko’s flesh with razor fangs. It looked like something straight out of a nightmare.
“Help… me….!” Niko groaned as the beast tore into him.
I aimed my SIG M18 and fired. The creature howled as a bullet struck its arm, splashing red onto its fur.
The beast turned toward me and I fired again — BAM BAM.
The creature spun on its hind legs and disappeared into the vast snow.
***
Moments later, an armed squad of military personnel sprinted toward me, with Skiff at the front.
“You alright?” he asked as a medic pulled me into the plane.
“I… I think so…,” I was too shocked to even register what was happening. “What was that?!”
“Polar bears.” Skiff scoffed, shaking his head. “They’ve been getting more violent.”
“Polar bears?!”
“They’re drawn to the facility. Temperature’s gotten colder, forcing their prey into newer areas.” He placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Doyle… I’ll notify Niko’s next of kin and get you and Hans out of here."
About an hour later, I shuffled into the cockpit. Hans was already waiting for me, drenched in sweat.
“That was pretty crazy, huh?”
“Yeah.” I sat, not knowing what to say.
“You know…” Hans took a deep breath. “Niko warned me something like this would happen.”
“He did?”
“I shouldn’t tell you this… but…”
“Tell me!”
“Niko and I were flying this route two years back when… he started screaming. Said that we were breaking the laws of science by shipping these experimental substances and equipment. When we landed, he warned me that judgement was upon us… and that’s when I saw it…”
“What?!”
“A man… running on all fours… like an animal. He had patches of white fur all over his body.”
“Just like the creature we saw…” I sat back like a devastated patient, not even sure how to process the diagnosis.
“So that was a… science experiment?”
“They’ve been turning people into these things for years. Trying to adapt the human body to harsh weather conditions. I only know because a few weeks ago, one turned up in the village of ******** and attacked a child.”
“My god…"
“They change each manifest when the new cargo is added in Iceland. It’s illegal. And it has to be exposed.”
Just then, Skiff stepped in and slapped my shoulder. “How are my two favorite pilots doing?”
“Fine,” I lied.
“Again, I apologize,” Skiff said and handed us each a briefcase. “Please accept this as an… incentive for not telling anyone about this.”
I opened the case and looked inside.
It was full of cash! Hundreds of thousands of dollars.
I returned home and told my girlfriend, Nova, about the entire experience. I’d been so traumatized I could barely sleep. I hadn't known Niko well, but his death and the cover-up haunted me.
I went to the police. Told them everything. But towards the end of our interview, they just laughed. Hauled me outside and insulted me for wasting their time.
I decided I couldn’t fly anymore after that.
I sent in my resignation that night.
“We’re sorry to see you go,” Skiff said, via text, after I’d sent in my resignation. “Best of luck to you and your lady.”
I deposited all the money Skiff had given me and booked a flight to Paris with Nova. I needed to get out of Switzerland. See something new.
The stress of the expedition gnawed at me. I couldn’t get out of bed some mornings, my anxiety was so bad.
The paranoia reached its peak when I tried to reach Hans.
His phone went straight to voicemail. But a few days later, I managed to speak with his sister when she called me back from his device.
“Who is this?” she asked.
“Hi, I’m Doyle. I work with Hans… is he there?”
“You haven’t heard?”
“No. Is he alright?”
“Hans went out for a walk five days ago. His body was found in an alley, two gunshot wounds to the back of his head. Police chalked it up to a robbery, but his wallet was untouched.”
“Oh my god… I’m sorry,” I said and hung up.
Now Nova and I are wandering the streets of Paris, scanning each busy street corner, studying the faces of each stranger as we pass.
I wonder if Skiff, or whoever he works for, is coming to get me.
Posted Jun 3, 2026, 1:17 PM UTC