Alaska's Frozen Heart
Copyright© 2026 by WittyUserName
Chapter 2: Chill of the Hunt
Supernatural Sex Story: Chapter 2: Chill of the Hunt - A legend waiting beneath the snow.
Caution: This Supernatural Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Paranormal Cream Pie Facial Oral Sex
Thursday February 12, 2026
I woke to the loud wail of an emergency signal, the sudden sound causing my heart to pound against my ribs. My eyes flew open as I jumped out of bed and ran through the dark bedroom. I hoped the voltage regulator hadn’t just failed; it would cause me no end of problems, even if a new one was on the way.
The dim glow of instrument panels was the first thing I noticed when I reached the control room. It wasn’t the regulator, which was a relief, but confusion replaced fear as I checked the issue. A spike on the seismic readout was blinking red, then another started blinking ominously. That wasn’t supposed to happen.
The floor was cold against my bare feet as I worked to figure out what was going on with the equipment. Activity beneath the surface had triggered every node at once. Strange. I spent a few minutes to go through the data, trying to determine what had happened. A major seismic event wouldn’t produce the readouts I was seeing, but what else could it have been?
I shivered slightly, my thin pajamas not nearly enough to protect me from the chill of the base. The alarms slowly quieted down, until only the hum of the generators and the low vibration of the instruments could be heard. It felt wrong, as if the darkness outside had shifted.
A signal suddenly came over the radio, making me jump in surprise. It was an emergency alert from a runner. Someone was out there, and something had gone wrong. The seismic activity; had there been a quake that caused a hazard? My fingers went over the controls while I double-checked the sensors’ data. The information made me think something else was malfunctioning. Red lights, a node overloading, erratic spiking; none of it made sense. Those systems were designed for months of unattended operation.
I grabbed my coat and boots, building layers for protection against the bitter cold. Alaskan winters were harsher than I had ever expected, far more dangerous than anything I experienced back home. When I had accepted the job back in August, I knew the weather was going to be brutal, but the Seward Peninsula quickly showed me how unprepared I really was.
The wind outside picked up, rattling the station walls as I dressed. I turned on all the outside lights, illuminating the entire area of the small monitoring station. With every precaution taken, I prepared to head out. Someone was struggling out there, and I had to get to them before it was too late.
The radio crackled as I was finishing tightening the last strap on my parka. At first it was only broken static, with some loud banging sounds interspersed throughout. I made my way to the radio, noticing the nearby clock read 4:27AM. I adjusted the antenna and turned up the volume.
“Hello?” I said after activating the microphone.
The response was rushing wind, more loud banging, the barking of a dog, and the rushed breath of a person.
“This is, this is Alasie Aput,” a faint and distorted female voice said. “If anyone is hearing this-”
I froze as static cut off the woman’s voice. That name. She was the runner on her way with supplies. I had spoken to her yesterday. Mushers were calm under pressure. They had to be. Panic wasted energy; energy that was needed for survival. Something in her voice made me anxious. It was like her terror was being held back by the sheer strength of her will.
“I’m south of the ridge line,” Alasie continued, the signal fading. “I-I’m on my way to the station. Something’s following me. It rushed the team once already.”
I keyed the microphone again. “Alasie, this is Doctor Ethan Marlowe at the monitoring station. I hear you. Can you describe what’s happening?”
“I don’t know!” she said in a low voice, as if afraid to be heard. “It’s big. It’s fast. The dogs won’t stop growling, and they don’t growl at nothing.”
There was another loud sound; wind or maybe movement too close to the microphone. The dogs barked in the background and I heard Alasie shout a command. My stomach dropped. What was attacking her? A grizzly bear, perhaps? They were big and fast. Although, I was pretty sure it was odd for one to relentlessly pursue a musher.
“Alasie?” I asked loudly. “Are you injured?”
“No,” she replied quickly. “Not yet. It slammed into the sled once, but I didn’t get a good look at it.”
A pause followed, one long enough to make me think I’d lost the signal.
“It doesn’t walk like a man,” Alasie added. “And it doesn’t move like an animal.”
The radio went dead.
For several moments I stood still, staring at the silent radio while breathing heavily. My rational mind scrambled for explanations: exhaustion, hypothermia, misinterpretation. They didn’t explain the certainty in her voice. I’d never met Alasie, but Ed spoke highly of her. Still, he did say she was young. If something was following her, it was probably a grizzly. Maybe she had gotten too close to a cub or something.
I didn’t hesitate any longer as I searched for anything I might need, including my emergency pack, complete with first-aid kit. There was even a can of bear spray clipped to the side of the pack. I grabbed both the portable radio and the flashlight before slinging the rifle over my shoulder. Protocol. It was protocol; I wouldn’t need it.
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