In Icy Wasteland, a remote journey across a glacier-covered sea descends into something far more dangerous than isolation. Hired as a simple laborer, Anton soon realizes his employer’s cargo and destination hold a secret that thrives just outside the law, the light, and civilization.
As the ship slips between towering icy cliffs and the captain ignites several green chemical lights, Anton’s unease grows. What begins as a routine job becomes a fight for survival when he uncovers the true cost of doing business at the edge of the world.
Creeping is the blues track paired with this story. It’s a slow-burn, atmospheric piece that mirrors the steady unease of the journey. Its stalking rhythm and shadowed tone let the horror seep in long before the truth is fully revealed.
Icy Wasteland was the last story I wrote for NYC Midnight. While I enjoy the competition, life has kept me from participating consistently in recent years. This tale began with a prompt built from three elements: Horror, Glacier, and Toxic Waste. It took time to navigate my internal storm, but this story emerged from it. Though it didn’t advance to the next round, it placed within its heat.
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Wan moonlight bathed a stocky man’s pale arms as he leaned against the metallic rails, whistling a simple tune.
“Anton, stop making that awful racket!”
The sporadic notes stopped as Anton twisted his head and pushed against the railing. “Norman, the silence is eerie.” Anton marched across the deck and swatted the console. “Why don’t you have a radio or satellite on this boat?”
“You weren’t hired to be entertained.” Norman released his grip on the yoke and pointed at an indention in the massive frozen cliff. “I enlisted you to assist me with my cargo. Besides, there aren’t many options available when you’re this far removed from civilization.”
“Whatever, Norman,” Anton said, waving his hand as he sauntered back to the rail, staring at the looming glaciers. “Can you explain why we fled the civilized world?” Anton chewed his lips as he wrapped his fingers around the metal bar. “Specifically, why you are steering us right into a hunk of ice.”
“We’re out here to dump my cargo in my decontamination facility.”
“Out here in a glacier?”
A dark smile spread while Norman throttled the ship’s engine. As the craft approached the icy wall, he spun the wheel, guiding the ship into the gap, plunging them into darkness. “Fortunately, out here the world’s pesky regulations don’t exist.”
Distant howls ripped through the tranquil atmosphere, chasing a shudder down Anton’s spine. With shallow breaths, his whitening fingertips dug into the boat. Closing his eyes, Anton took a few deep breaths and twirled his hand toward the star-filled sky. “It’s creepy navigating through all these massive chunks of ice. With the pale light, those cliff-faces look like giant gravestones.”
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Have a wonderful day my friends!