#artic horror

[msdarkwoodsworld]

Four Lovecraftian Horror Story Shorts

Story 1: The Awakening Below

Dr. Aaron Blackwell was renowned for his underwater explorations, but nothing had prepared him for the cave system beneath the Mariana Trench. Funded by a mysterious benefactor, he led a team of divers to uncover what lay in the uncharted depths.

"This place gives me the creeps," said Lucy, one of Aaron's top divers, as they descended deeper into the abyss.

"Steady, Lucy," Aaron urged. "We’re making history here."

The deeper they went, the darker it became. Then, through the murky waters, they saw it—an ancient, gargantuan structure, covered in bioluminescent markings that pulsed like a heartbeat.

"Is that a temple?" Aaron wondered aloud.

As they approached, the water vibrated with an eerie frequency, making their heads throb with whispers of alien syllables. Against his better judgment, Aaron reached out to touch the structure.

A rumble shook the waters, and the structure began to rise, revealing itself to be only a small part of a colossal, living entity. Eyes the size of houses opened, and the divers froze in terror.

"Back to the surface, NOW!" Aaron shouted.

Their ascent was chaotic, but the entity pursued them, its whispers turning to shrieks in their minds. Aaron reached the surface, gasping for breath, only to find the sky churning with unnatural colors and alien constellations.

"You have awakened The Slumbering," Lucy said, but her voice was no longer her own. Her eyes were voids of infinite black. "Welcome to the new reality."

Story 2: The Eternal Manuscript

Robert Turner, an antiquarian bookseller, prided himself on finding rare texts. One evening, he discovered an ancient manuscript buried within a box of old tomes.

"Strange," he murmured, examining the leather-bound book. Its texture felt disturbingly alive.

Ignoring his unease, Robert opened it. Instead of words, the pages were filled with shifting geometric patterns, shapes that defied logic. The room around him seemed to bend as he continued to stare.

"What... is this?" he whispered, even as he felt himself pulled into the pages.

He started to hear a low, droning chant, describing elder gods and forgotten evils. The words twisted in his mind, causing his vision to blur. Shapes within the manuscript began to move and converge, forming grotesque faces.

Feeling a compulsion he couldn’t resist, he read an incantation aloud. His voice echoed unnaturally, amplified by forces unknown.

The air around him grew thick, and the room darkened. From the shadows, slender, multi-limbed creatures emerged, their eyes glowing with malevolent intelligence.

"You have summoned us," one hissed, its voice scraping like metal on stone. "Prepare to join our eternal library."

Before Robert could react, the creatures grabbed him, pulling him into the manuscript. He screamed as his body dissolved into ink, the book absorbing his very essence.

The manuscript closed itself, now resting innocently among the other books, waiting for its next reader.

Story 3: The Cosmic Observatory

In a remote part of the Arctic, Dr. Elena Carter built an observatory to study the cosmos. Equipped with advanced telescopes and alien detection equipment, she aimed to unlock the secrets of the universe.

"Elena, are you really sure about this?" her colleague, Dr. Steve Hargrove, asked. "We've never pointed the telescope at those coordinates before."

"That's exactly why I'm excited," Elena replied, eyes alight with anticipation.

As they focused on the targeted coordinates, the telescope revealed a cluster of pulsating lights forming a spiral pattern. This was no ordinary star system; the lights seemed to convey a deliberate, almost sentient design.

"It's...beautiful," Steve marveled, but his voice wavered.

Soon, bizarre patterns began to form on the observatory's monitors. The signals grew in intensity, and a haunting melody filled the air.

"Can you hear it?" Elena asked, entranced by the sounds.

The music grew louder, harmonizing with an unearthly chorus. Dazed, they stepped outside, and Elena's gaze was drawn upward.

In the sky, an ominous formation appeared—an ethereal doorway opening to an abyss of shimmering colors and dark voids. Alien entities, with forms that defied logic, began to descend.

"They have answered," Elena said, her voice a mix of awe and fear.

The beings reached out with tendrils of light, touching Elena and Steve. Their skin prickled, their minds flooded with an overload of alien knowledge. They screamed, their consciousness breaking under the cosmic revelation.

When the morning came, the observatory was deserted, monitors still displaying that haunting melody. All that remained of Elena and Steve were their empty clothes and the disquieting feeling in the air, as if the universe itself had shifted.

Story 4: The Waxen Keeper

James Morrow was the night security guard at the Arkham Wax Museum. The museum's latest exhibit featured unsettlingly lifelike figures of ancient gods and cosmic horrors crafted by a reclusive artist named Ezra Blackwood.

"You're really gonna stay here alone with these things?" the day guard, Bill, joked. "You're braver than me."

James chuckled nervously. "Someone's gotta do it."

As the night wore on, James patrolled the dark, empty halls. The wax figures seemed to watch him, their eyes glinting in the dim light. He couldn't shake the eerie feeling they were more than just statues.

Near midnight, a low hum filled the air, and James noticed one of the figures—a grotesque depiction of an ancient, tentacled deity—had shifted. Its eyes, previously dull, now glowed with an unholy light.

"What the...?" James muttered, stepping closer.

The figure moved its head slightly, and James jumped back, heart pounding. "Bill? Is this some kind of joke?"

A deep, resonant voice filled the room, echoing from everywhere and nowhere. "We are the Watchers of the Beyond."

James backed away, only to find himself surrounded by the wax figures, all now animated and converging upon him. Their movements were slow, almost deliberate.

"You have tended our prison well," the voice continued. "Now it is time for your reward."

The tentacled deity extended a limb, touching James lightly. His skin began to harden, and he felt his muscles stiffen. He gazed in horror as his hands turned into wax.

"No, please!" he begged, but his voice was already thickening, becoming as solid as the wax enveloping him.

In the morning, the museum had a new exhibit—a perfectly sculpted wax figure of James, frozen in eternal terror among the other eldritch abominations.

Visitors would marvel at the lifelike details, never knowing that James was still conscious, trapped forever within his waxen prison, a silent guardian of the ancient horrors.

[2014-is-back]

5/05🎸

[sosadraws]

send help, I can't stop making signalis ocs

[pyomatic]

*twirls hair around fingers* so there's this demon bear on the show about doomed 19th century sailors

[greatestcreations]

Teaser for the artic tapes season 1.

It's coming soon.

[libraryspectre]

Definitely gonna watch the terror now that its on netflix

[charlies-rambles]

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╰─》Name: Charlie

╰─》Pronouns: He/Him/They/Them

╰─》Likes: MHA, HxH, Nana, MCYT's, Arcane, The Sun & Moon show, Fnaf, The Nbhd, Artic Monkeys, Kiki Rockwell, Drawing, Fashion, Make-up, Greek-mythology, reading (Books & Fanfics), Flower Language, Dogs, Cats, Dyed Hair, Piercings, Minecraft, Undertale, Stardew Valley, A Silent Voice, DeathNote, JJK, Demon Slayer, Ginny & Georgia, XO Kitty, Six of Crows & Crooked Kingdom, Cosplay, Sewing, embroidery, Writting, Ao3, Scream & Saw movies, Horror movies, crime documentaries, Togachako, Bakudeku, Jayvik, VIKTOR SINCE DAY 1 SINCE FIRST SCREEN APPEARANCE, cosplay

╰─》Dislikes: Yelling, Loud noises, failing, Art Block, Writers Block, Feeling yucky

╰─》 DNI just to bully me for my interests, Anti's DNI

╰─》 My writting account:

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[bipolar-sad-and-ready-to-cry]

Arctic, if somehow ending up in the horrors at the oil rig AU, would immediately be adopted by KC 

Yes he would be immediately adopted by horrors at the oil rig KC hehehehhehe he can’t leave poor lost guppies alone

[mldwnka]

[creetura]

THE TERROR IS ON PRIME VIDEO

[articwolfclawartist]

𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘗𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘱, 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘗𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘱 𝘈 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘗𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘱, 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘗𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘱 𝘛𝘰 𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘥.

Heavily inspired by @bananadramaaa​ ‘s amazing art

I am now subscribing to the headcanon that Philip was one of those creepy horror story kids that would just go around killing animals 

[2014-is-back]

can 2014 get any harder?

[galerymod]

I don't love the vidio I find it shameful for all of us, no not the music drives me mad, but the beauty of the scene and the helplessness makes me feel so sad and full of charm.

It should be a requiem, we do not watch how everything passes. So irretrievable! Our children's children will learn certain things only from stories. And whether they will believe what they hear is the question. And if they believe what is told about the past, they will ask why we did not do anything.

My answer is already now we have dealt as always only with our hatred and our differences, with influence and power.

Everybody knew it and everybody could have done something but it was always just something else!

Sorry that you will never see a glacier! Sorry for the drinking water wars..... and for the intolerability of your being.

mod

We were the most evolved animal with the cough understanding of the universe and the formation of the earth 🌎 but we were incapable of action. Because of the ignorance of the own knowledge of the connections, the not acting.

Our house burns and we argue about who owns which room.

We are just angry apes with a high technical understanding and archaic territorial behavior.

Every action you take can change the future. 

[breach-of-conduct]

i am once again getting the urge to relisten to the white vault. I am once again missing seasons 1 and 2

[greatestcreations]

The Artic Tapes. Season 1 Offical trailer.

It's going to be a long winter season in Antarctica. chances of survival are zero. see you soon. 

[rheadionne]

Check out my review of A Haunting in the Artic by C. J. Cooke