They said it had been a while since it had crashed when they sent us out here. Given how no one saw the large aircraft go down in the secluded mountains, we had no real way of telling. It certainly looked weathered, though I suppose none of us knew what it originally looked like. There were 15 of us when we arrived at the secluded peak. The aircraft - or presumed spacecraft - stuck out like a sore thumb, even with the layers of snow that had built up over it. It had seemingly crashed at an angle, and the windows on the top of the dome half smashed from the collision. The exterior of it was covered in a thin sheen of ice, icicles hanging from every surface. None of us could quite place it, but there was a deep unease settling in our bones. Like our very nature was telling us to leave this thing alone, and maybe we should have. Maybe we should have all turned tail and ran. Yet, we didn't. It was a slow descent into the crater this spacecraft had created, giving us time to properly observe it. There were no signs of life, or at least no visible ones, like footprints or smoke. That put us at ease for a while, affirming our hopes that we wouldn't encounter anything unpleasant. It may have been a stupid hope, as not too long after, one of the men mentioned feeling like he was being watched. Once he had mentioned it, I couldn't quite shake the feeling myself. It was only natural to feel so exposed in such an open area, I suppose. This, however, felt fairly unnatural. After about an hour, we reached the crater floor. The creeping feeling pooling in our guts had only grown as we had drawn closer to the ground. No one could keep their eyes off of the impressive vehicle in front of us. The strange pull was almost inescapable as we took in the vast spacecraft. I almost lost myself staring at it before I remembered what we had come here to do. Procedure dictated that we started with a headcount, as stupid as it felt to count ourselves before we even went in. I started it, numbering myself as one for the time being. The men answered in turn until we got to number 14. 14. We had 15 men when we had begun the descent into the crater. We were missing someone. The panic that flashed between us was almost palpable, the few that had yet to look away from the spacecraft, finally breaking their stare. There weren't even footprints leading away from where he had been stood. It was like he had simply vanished. That alone made me feel bad that I had never learned the men's names, though maybe that was my own fault. I suppose none of it really matters now. It took a while for us to get our wits about us, as we knew we had to keep going, even as we so desperately wanted to turn around. We crept forward, resorting to holding the backs of each other's coats so as not to lose another person. There was a large hole in the underneath of the spacecraft, as if something had exploded out from the underside. The thought was odd, as we had presumed that something had smashed into the spacecraft and not the other way around. Debris littered the ground below the hole, various sizes of pipes, and other mechanical parts. The fortunate fact was that the weather up here was far too cold to support any life form on earth, though it is unfortunate that I can not swear the same about non-earth lifeforms. We stood for a brief moment, steeling ourselves for what we might see. As we would all find out, this was one of many mistakes. The man at the back of the line let go of the coat in front of him. I turned at the right moment, seeing a flash of orange as something seemingly swooped down and grabbed him, though I couldn't see what. He didn't even scream before he was gone from view. Now we were down to 13 men, and we were clearly being watched. It felt sickening, like we were easy prey for a predator we couldn't even see. Maybe this is what we deserved for trying to meddle with other's space tech...