A Frosted Fate

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Official Designation: SCP Foundation Arctic Research Facility

General Information: Site-800 is a building complex located in a region in northern Greenland known as Coffee Club Island. Due to the location being uninhabited, the region normally has no issue with maintenance of normalcy, allowing a more "hands-off approach" in regards to anomalies. Site-800 currently only has around 20 members, making it one of the Foundation's smallest sites. It is generally supplied by boat, with rationing instated in seasons with icier waters.

Site-800 was established to observe the anomalous nexus surrounding the general northern Greenland area. This area spans around 12,000 sq. kilometers in size, and anomalies found in the region vary greatly in danger level and ability to be contained.

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Testing, testing. Yep, working now. Hello there, I'm Vince, the Director for Site-800. If you are reading this now, there is a good possibility that I am already dead. No, there isn't any monster out to get me, I'm not on anybody's 'to kill' list, just me.

It was three days ago when I was last at the Site. Our facility operates relatively different to other sites, in that we don't exactly contain anomalies, mostly just watch them from afar. It's pretty hard to contain these things in these elements. So we are mostly out and about, moving from place to place watching anomalies. Those ads they gave touting the Site-800 heating systems? Yeah, never gunna' see them. Hyperbole for you, literal for me.

Let's see… where do I start?

This site is by far the most expensive to maintain, having to supply everything through all of this icy water and whatnot. Overwatch Command wants to get their bang for their buck, right? What better way to do that than to send your employees into the gut-wrenching wilderness in the name of science!

That went as well as you could expect. I'm actually surprised we went this far without casualties. And by god, am I happy to fill that first slot.

We were assigned to watch a Keter-class entity, as we usually do. Me, Anne, and Will all go down to the coordinates they gave us, which is on a mountain a few kilometers up. We walk around the place a few times, looking for what we are meant to be tracking. That's when I felt the ground beneath me begin to shift, and you can already predict what happened next. Both me and several tons of snow slid off the mountain, never to be seen again.

Most deaths from avalanches usually come within the first hour or so, from suffocation. If a person is not dug out of the snow, then that person has virtually no chance of survival within the first 2 hours. Unless, that is, said person had a part of them extruding from outside the snow that they could use to dig themselves out.

I woke up feeling… groggy? My body, pretty beaten up. Snow is great at keeping you from dying if you fall from the height of, say, a mountain. I've even heard about people surviving from falls as high as ten-thousand kilometers if they fall into snow thick and powdery enough.

We pack communication devices in case of situations like this. Very useful, and until now we've never really had any need for them. Now, you can color my surprise when it turned out that I didn't actually have any in my bag. Woops!

So, like an idiot, there I was, cold as hell, sifting through a bag over and over again for something that isn't there.

I soon had the common sense to take shelter in a nearby cave, but the effects that could provide are limited. Thing is, being in the Arctic, there just aren't many trees out here, so not much to start a fire with. So, I did what any reasonable person would do, and set my bookbag on fire. In negative 50 degree weather, I do what I can.

We usually never receive prep for situations like this. Reason? The Foundation usually just sends a task-force into an area via helicopter or something like that, and if you die, you die. You get replaced, and the cycle continues. Anne was next-in line for Site Director in my case, if you weren't aware. Honestly, she should've gotten the job before me, she was a much better candidate. Smarter, better-equipped, less prone to falling off the side of cliffs…

I know how to ice-fish. You live in Greenland, you kind-of figure these things out. Kept me alive for quite some time. But even with my wonderful god-given ability to rip animals out of the water beneath and bite out their internal organs, that doesn't change the fact that I can't go on like this forever. Here, I'll either end up starving to death, freezing to death, or facing the same fate hundreds of different ways.

The primary directive of the Foundation has firmly been to maintain normalcy. Kind of ironic that in an area without any human life, a true normal, we end up falling flat on our faces. Or maybe I should be speaking for myself, who knows?

Why do I bother record myself? That's the question of the hour. Habit, I suppose? Recording yourself always goes under the assumption that there would be somebody to come across said recording.


Is anybody going to find me? Ever? This mountain has a radius of god-knows how many kilometers. If they do end up sending a search party out, even comprising of the full whopping 20 members of Site-800, will they be able to cover sufficient ground in time?

Today is Christmas Eve. Merry… Christmas I suppose? I had planned gifts to give out to both the other employees as well as family back home. I… miss them. I told them I was on a business trip, what will they be told now? And on Christmas?

I… don't want to die. Nobody ever does, I suppose. With all the monsters you might face on the daily, they wouldn't let anybody in that would fall over and die easily.

Please, if you're listening to this… just… remember me. That's all I ask for.

Vince.. signing off….


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