Video has been filmed from Agent Diaz's body camera. A timestamp appears in the lower margin of the video which continues to match the Foundation Master-Clock. A battery indicator appears on the right side of the same margin indicating 14% remaining battery life.
Agents Diaz and Vogel trek at a slow pace across a snowy plain and the howling of the wind obscures much of the audio. After several minutes of the camera angled downward, the agents come to a stop and the camera pans around as Vogel evaluates the landscape. The pair appears to have crested a rolling hill. The faint suggestion of a midday sun is visible overhead through dense fog although the video timestamp indicates 2021 hours.
The camera lingers for several seconds on Agent Vogel who appears to be suffering from prolonged and severe fatigue. The Agent's lips are severely chapped and cracked and their face is badly wind-burned. They slowly pivot to evaluate the landscape.
Diaz: <Voice is hoarse> More of the same. I think I see the sheen of daylight on ice over there, at about 3 o'clock. Maybe it's too heavy for the lake ice? We might be able to sleep for a little bit.
Vogel: <Also hoarse> Can't see more than a kilometer anyway. No other option. Have to try…something different. Let's go.
They begin walking in the direction indicated by Diaz.
Diaz: You know…when we get outta here…I'm gonna cash out at least two weeks and go to Malibu. I don't care if the debrief takes a whole week by itself; once they let me out of that fucking door I'm not coming back for a month!
Vogel: Two weeks at the start of the story and a month by the end. Just how much PTO you got clenched up up there, Diaz? Both agents laugh softly.
Diaz: Just think about it though. Pina coladas, white sand beaches, warm breezes.
Vogel: No fog, no snowblindness, and seeing something actually different went you turn around for once.
Diaz: And no fucking polar bear.
Vogel: And no polar bears.
Approximately twenty minutes of extraneous audio and video has been removed as the pair arrives to the edge of a frozen lake. There is almost no snow on the lake ice and the presence of water is clearly indicated through the sheet of ice. Uneven rock formations jut up through the snow and seem to mark the waterline. The wind continues to whip loudly in the camera's microphone. Battery indicator shows 13% remaining.
Vogel: Christ, there's no way we can walk across this if we can see water.
Vogel carefully extends a boot and steps onto the lake ice, sliding his weight further out as he attempts to maintain a low center of gravity. Agent Vogel then tests a second foot, his entire weight now out on the ice. He carefully takes several steps out before a loud snap and crack pierces the air, originating from near Vogel. Agent Diaz lunges forward, extending his arm out as Vogel begins to slide back toward the shore and is pulled to safety. The pair of agents collapse on the lake shore catching their breath for several minutes.
Diaz: Maybe we could like…lay out, spread out our weight. Th-the dis…distribution or whatever. We should be…the points of contact. The surface area.
Vogel: Yeah, yeah, whatever it is you're thinking of, you do it first. You can barely string a sentence together. I'll do the one-knee thing here by the shore where the ice is a little thicker in case our guest shows up. Seriously, snag some shuteye.
Diaz: I need to save my fighting spirit. You're lucky. Hey, Vogel, any chap-stick left?
Vogel: My lips practically look like hamburger from this dry air and you actually think I might be holding out on you? Get fucking bent. <lengthy pause> I'm sorry, we're…it's just…
Diaz: I know, mate. Wake me in 45.
Agent Diaz gets onto the lake ice and lays down, sliding himself across the ice until he is several meters from the shore. He lays on his back as his breathing steadies and he begins to softly snore, even through the howling of the wind.
Approximately forty minutes of extraneous audio and video have been removed, during which Agent Diaz shifts onto his side while sleeping. The camera is pointed in the direction of Agent Vogel, who is facing away from the camera and downwind. Agent Vogel's head and shoulders droop several times and he nearly falls over more than a dozen times during the truncated video, presumably from fatigue. Video resumes as Agent Vogel does fall over and onto his side and then immediately shoots up, awake.
As Vogel pulls himself to his feet, a bellowing roar cuts through the wind from an unknown source. Vogel scrambles toward the lake and slides onto his belly and military-crawls across the ice until he reaches Diaz. He attempts to wake the sleeping agent and the camera jostles substantially as Diaz sits up and tries to orient himself.
Vogel: Diaz. Diaz! It's coming, it's fucking found us already. It's coming, we-we gotta…
Diaz: Lay down, let's head further out. Your two feet were enough to crack it there's no way it can run out here. Come on.
The two agents shimmy out several dozen meters from the shore, oriented in the direction they heard the roar originate from. Nearly twenty minutes pass before a dark silhouette crests a nearby hill, indicating the arrival of SCP-5605-1. Agents Diaz and Vogel remain motionless.
SCP-5605-1 reaches the edge of the lake and comes to stop. It lowers its massive head and extends one paw, carefully and hesitantly testing the ice.
Vogel: Oh fuck it's going to fucking try. You've gotta be kidding me…
Diaz: There's no way. As soon as this ice breaks we gun it for the shoreline and we run. This is going to work. This has to work.
As the two agents lie still, SCP-5605-1 continues to trod further out onto the ice and approaches the agents. Diaz hits Vogel on the shoulder twice as he begins to get up.
Diaz: Alright, that's close enough, we gotta go. Like, now. Vogel. Vogel? Vogel! Come on, man!
As Diaz starts to back-peddle toward the shoreline the camera pans down. Agent Vogel is transfixed on the ice, looking down with his mouth hanging open. Diaz grabs hold of Vogel's boot and begins to drag him toward the shore. As he does so, the camera points sharply downward and a nude, humanoid figure is seen bumping against the ice from the underside. This causes Diaz to scream and let go of Vogel's foot and fall onto his backside.
Diaz: What the hell?!
Vogel: <Weakly> Claire…
Diaz turns over onto his hands and knees and crawls back to Vogel, grabbing his waist and pulling him toward the shore. As he does so, the humanoid figure resurfaces and bumps against the nearly-clear lake ice once again. The figure is a human female, appearing to be approximately 30-years-old with blonde hair and extremely pale skin. It is unclear if this pale skin is a natural condition or a product of the environment. The figure's eyes are open and its face is contorted in a look of shock and pain.
Vogel: <Whimpering> My Claire…
Several more humanoid figures begin appearing beneath the ice all around them in similar poses, but due to refraction, their faces are unclear. Diaz yanks on Vogel's waistband several more times, hauling him toward the shore. Upon reaching solid ground, Vogel gathers himself enough to get up and start running away with Diaz. Another bellowing roar is heard close behind them. The battery indicator shows 9% remaining.
Approximately 10 minutes of extraneous audio and video have been removed before Vogel falls onto his hands and knees, chest heaving from their hasty escape.
Vogel: It was Claire…How?!
Diaz slumps forward and puts his hands on his knees, but remains standing, his breathing labored.
Diaz: She's dead, Curt. She's dead and buried and you know that. W-whatever you say you saw, it-it must have just been fatigue. A hallucination. These things happen when you're up for three days on an adrenaline high. Your brain chemistry must be ten shades of messed up right now.
Vogel: It's this place, Diaz. That was her. There's no mistaking those eyes.
Diaz: It's okay. I believe you, but you have to try not to—
Vogel: No, I need to say this. Once you've had to look into your lover's eyes and watch the life bleed out…you don't forget that. I know, in every fiber of this coward's heart that still beats within me, that those were her eyes, damn it.
Several moments of silence pass before Diaz puts a hand on Vogel's shoulder. He allows it to remain there for several seconds before Vogel sits up and pushes the hand off.
Vogel: I don't need your sympathy. I didn't need the fake sympathy cards then, and I don't want your pandering consolation now.
Diaz: Hey, man. This is empathy, not sympathy. I can see you're hurting. But we have to be strong a little while longer. You can lean on me for as long-
Vogel: We're never getting out of here. You know that, right? That big stupid thing is going to catch us. Just like it caught that hiker, just like it caught those campers we were looking for, just like it caught my Claire.
Diaz: Curt that was a car accident. Five years ago. The bear didn't have anything at all to do with it. And for the record, no, I don't know that we're going to die here. Now get the fuck up and let's move.
Diaz pulls Vogel up to his feet; the other agent appears to be crying.
Vogel: I didn't know someone else remembered.
Diaz: Of course I do. You're like a brother to me.
They resume walking. The battery indicator shows 7% remaining.
Approximately ten minutes of extraneous audio and video are removed before Agent Diaz abruptly slides and falls down the side of a steep hill. A rocky facet of the hill was obscured by a snow drift which broke away due to the Agent's activity. The camera is surrounded and impacted by snow. Several minutes pass before the snow is cleared away and Vogel can be seen frantically trying to dig Diaz out. Vogel begins looking up and over Diaz's shoulder as he starts to dig faster.
Vogel: It's coming, it's coming. Come on, man, we gotta go.
A series of primal grunts pierce the air from somewhere unseen; both agents freeze upon hearing the first one but then immediately resume frantically digging. As the snow is cleared away, Vogel tries to help Diaz out but he is not able to move freely.
Diaz: Ah! Ouch, stop! It's my foot. My ankle. Something…I can feel resistance. Don't pull, look around behind me.
Vogel repositions to focus on the problem area and freezes, motionless.
Diaz: …Vogel? How bad is it?
Vogel: Ahh, well. There's…there's two pretty big rocks. And I'm pretty sure I see coagulated blood. Either that or you were storing coffee grounds in your socks.
Diaz: Fuck. If you're telling jokes then…
Vogel presses his lips together tightly. He then repositions to try and move the rocks and continue to dig out snow. This continues for approximately two minutes until a large shadow eclipses Vogel and Diaz. Diaz cranes his head up and back but the camera is not able move with him.
Diaz: <Whispering> Vogel. You have to take this, and you have to go. Now. Please, Curt. Live. Just… Please, Curt, go.
Agent Vogel is motionless, his gaze affixed on SCP-5605-1 which is casting the shadow. Agent Diaz decouples his body camera and hands it to Vogel, and then pushes him away. Vogel begins to shuffle backward as he climbs to his feet.
Diaz: Go. Go!
Vogel continues to shuffle backward as SCP-5605-1 walks around the rocky hill and approaches Agent Diaz. Its face lowers to closely examine the agent, who unsheathes a bowie knife from a body holster and swings wildly at SCP-5605-1. The bear takes a half-step backward and avoids the swing, momentarily startled by the gesture.
Diaz: I said fucking go!
Vogel begins to run now. As distance increases and the fog obscures line of sight, Diaz and SCP-5605-1 become silhouettes and then disappear entirely. A series of piercing but brief screams are heard. The battery indicator shows 6% remaining.
Approximately two hours of extraneous audio and video are removed before Agent Vogel stops next to a barren aspen tree and sits down, his back against its trunk. The howling of the wind has lessened slightly but the fog has thickened around him.
Vogel: It's getting warmer, I can tell. Only a little, but I can feel it in the air; it's warmer, wetter, wherever I am now. Sun still hasn't moved and I might never move again either. I'm tired. Really goddamn tired.
The camera is decoupled and Agent Vogel sets it on his lap, facing up. He scans his surroundings as the video continues to record.
Vogel: I can't stop thinking about her. Claire. I know, right? What kind of a monster wouldn't have Diaz on the mind right now but that's my training kicking in. I've detached, at least from that. But not her. Never her. The truth is that I could never leave her behind and I've kept that chain hanging around my neck for five years. We never fell out of love and I guess I still haven't either.
Agent Vogel repositions the camera slightly as he raises his knees so it is nearly at eye level. His eyes begin to well with tears as he looks into the camera.
Vogel: The court documents all show that I blew a 0.00 by the time the paramedics were done and the cops had hold of me. More than five hours after the accident. But what they don't show is that if they had tested me earlier at the sobriety check-point instead of on the winding country road that I used to go around them, my night might have just ended with a 'simple' DWI. And she'd still be alive.
Vogel: She was stone-cold sober, too. She trusted me and I did that to her… Agent Vogel's lip begins to quiver.
Vogel: I should have died. Not her. She should be moving on and starting a beautiful family by now. I should be…a picture in a memory box. A memory to take out and shed a tear over once a decade and then put away, but I…that's not reality. She's dead. She's trapped beneath the ice here, her last tear-soaked words hanging in this relentless, howling wind. And I don't even have the luxury of being able to stop and listen, to mourn. This thing…this stupid bear. Agent Vogel loses his composure for a moment and begins to sob; he turns his head away from the camera.
Vogel: This fucking bear has been on us since we got here. It doesn't stop. It just doesn't stop. I got a good look into its beady little coal-black eyes when it showed up in our camp and then again with Diaz. They were hollow and full of hate and I know it was looking at me. It ripped that poor fucking camper's leg clean off but it was looking at me while it did it. We ran. Slept when we could. Ran more. And it still came, relentless. Looking at me, for me. Well, there's nowhere left for me to run. My body, my soul, has given up.
Vogel: Diaz is dead now too, but it should be me. Yet again. He told me that I should go, that I should live. I walked away from something like this before and…living was the worst thing to happen to me. They say that hikers that get lost in the bush can last a real long time so long as they still have hope. Welp. Time's up. Vogel leans his hack back against the tree.
A series of deep thumps interrupt the audio as a shadow slowly eclipses Agent Vogel. He lifts his head from its resting position and presumably regards SCP-5605-1. The corners of his mouth turn up into a smile as he begins to sob once more. The battery indicator reads 2%.
Vogel: I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. You can't outrun your guilt. You just die tired.
Agent Vogel tosses the camera which rolls for several meters before coming to stop facing a small copse of trees. An animalistic grunt pierces the audio followed by a muffled series of screams. The howling winds have largely died down and the fog begins to partially abate. The audio detects intermittent crunching and chewing sounds until the battery indicator reaches 0% and the body camera powers off.
