The Lightkeeper

A short horror story for 30 Days of Fright: Day 16

Image: Casey Horner via Unsplash

Jeremy O'Toole was one of the finest lighthouse keepers I'd ever met. The man knew the importance of the job. He knew how many lives would be lost if the lighthouse went out and a ship crashed against the rocky shores that sat beside it.

Jeremy and I had been friends for thirty years. We had been through so much together. Time and distance pulled us apart, but we always stayed in touch. And when we'd finally meet back up, things picked up right where they left off.

So, when they told me that the lighthouse had gone out, I knew something was wrong.

Very wrong.

I also knew it had to be me who went to check on him. I owed Jeremy that. He would have done the same for me.

So, I took a rowboat out to that island off the shore where the lighthouse stood like an ancient monolith. It might as well have been one. All the records of when it was built and who built it were long lost.

It had just always been there. And, rowing up to that foggy shore, I got the impression that it always would be. It felt like the kind of place that sat outside of time.

I pulled the boat up onto the shore, greeted only by the sound of the waves softly crashing against the sand. As I made my way up to the living quarters beside the lighthouse, I paused as I stepped past the rusted gate.

The garden plot just inside the waist-high fence was rotted. All the plants were dead.

Jeremy had a green thumb. He took pride in growing his food.

Something was very wrong.

I walked up to the door and knocked twice with a shaking hand. Almost immediately, it swung open. A grizzled and wrinkled face greeted me.

Jeremy pulled a lit cigar out of his mouth and grinned through yellowed teeth that sat nestled behind his wiry beard.

"Baxter Murphy! As I live and breathe, what the hell are you doing here?" he asked.

I didn't expect him to answer the door, let alone to be in such high spirits.

"Jeremy, I thought something had gone wrong. The damn lighthouse is out!"

Jeremy leaned out of the door and looked up at the darkened peak of the lighthouse beside his living quarters.

"Ah, would you look at that? Well, not to worry, I'll have that fixed in a jiffy. You want to come in for a cuppa in the meantime?"

I was baffled by the entire situation, but I nodded and followed him inside. The interior was about what I expected. Empty bottles and scattered plates decorated every flat surface.

Jeremy never was the kind of person to prioritize cleanliness, so at least that hadn't changed.

"I'm glad you're okay, but in all my years of knowing you, you've never let the light go out. I was worried something had happened to you."

Jeremy stepped into the kitchen area and opened one of the cabinets. He fetched two glasses and a half-finished bottle of whiskey.

"Fresh out of tea for a cuppa, I'm afraid, but I've got plenty of whiskey!" he said, setting the glasses down.

Another classic Jeremy move.

Maybe I was overreacting.

"That's fine, I'll take some whiskey. But, shouldn't we get the lighthouse up and running first?" I asked.

Jeremy shook his head as he poured two fingers of whiskey into each of the glasses.

"You're really harping on that damn lighthouse, aren't ya? What's the rush? It's not like any ships are coming through today."

My guard went back up again. He lifted one of the glasses and smiled. This time was different.

His smile didn't look right. It felt fake. Like a facsimile of a real one.

Like something trying to imitate a human smile.

The sight made my stomach turn as I took the glass from him.

"I noticed your garden is in poor shape. I always thought you had a green thumb?" I asked.

Jeremy took a sip of the whiskey and shrugged. "What are you, my mother? And here I thought an old friend had just come to visit."

I faked a chuckle and took a sip of my whiskey. "You're right, I'm just being paranoid. Like I said, I was worried about you."

Jeremy slapped my shoulder and winked. "I appreciate it, friend, but as you can see, I'm just fine!"

I looked down at the whiskey. I couldn't stand looking into Jeremy's eyes. They looked normal, but something about them was off.

"How long have we been friends now?" I asked.

Jeremy didn't respond. I looked back up and saw the false smile fade from his face.

"Now, what kind of question is that?" he asked.

"It's a simple question. What's the matter? Has all the booze destroyed your memory?"

The fake smile came back, paired with a hollow chuckle. "You're in a weird mood today, Baxter. We've known each other for twenty years."

His answer was wrong.

I smiled and shrugged. "Right, of course, I'm sorry. You know I get when I'm worried.

"Hey, you got anything to eat around here? I'm starving," I said.

Jeremy nodded, setting down his glass. "Yeah, let me check the storehouse. Make yourself comfortable, you clearly need to relax, my friend!"

We both laughed as he turned and walked out the front door. I waited a few seconds before following him outside. I had to get to the lighthouse.

I crossed the distance between the two buildings and frantically ran up the steps to the main door. When I pushed it open, a putrid smell hit me as I fumbled in the dark for one of the lanterns hanging on the wall.

When I finally got it lit, the lantern's glow illuminated a horrifying sight.

Lying on the ground in front of me was the body of Jeremy O'Toole. It had been there for some time, by the looks of it. The flesh was gray and rotting. Maggots and insects crawled in and out of his nose and eyes.

His face was frozen in terror. It was exactly what I feared, which begged the question:

Who, or what, was I talking to just now?

The lighthouse door creaked open behind me.

I heard a deep sigh. "Couldn't leave well enough alone, could you?"

I spun around and saw the other Jeremy standing behind me. His face was blurry, his features floated across the front of his head like flotsam in the ocean.

His fingers swelled and stretched, forming into long, thin tendrils.

"What the hell are you?" I asked, retreating backward.

The skin on Jeremy's face bubbled and slid off in thick globs. Beneath it was a black and slimy visage.

"I am the lightkeeper," Jeremy said, the words bubbling to the surface from an unseen mouth.

I tripped over the real Jeremy's body and landed beside his rotting corpse on the ground.

“Just let me take my friend and go, I won’t tell anyone what I’ve seen here!” I shouted.

The thing in front of me took another step forward as its disguise continued to falter.

“You had your turn in the light. You squandered it. WASTED IT! It’s our turn now.”

I threw the lantern toward the thing approaching me. It crashed into the approaching figure and shattered. The oil soaked into its body, and flames quickly spread across its shifting silhouette.

I clambered to my feet as it shrieked with a sound so loud that the air shook around me. I ran past, but I didn’t go outside. No.

I had a job to do.

I ran up the circular stairwell, my hands gripping the rail for support. The thing beneath me still screamed as the flames sent noxious smoke rising past me towards the top of the lighthouse.

I was out of breath in seconds. My legs burned. I couldn’t stop, though. I had to keep going.

“WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING?!” a water-logged voice screamed.

I looked down and saw massive tentacles rising in the space beside the staircase. Their black surface shimmered as they rose above me.

One of them swung to the right, and I ducked as it crashed into the wall beside me. The entire staircase shook.

A frustrated growl echoed through the hollow interior. “Our sunken prison cannot hold us! The light has gone out! YOUR TIME IS OVER!”

I could see the apex of the lighthouse. I reached the ladder and climbed through as the tentacles beneath me frantically tore at my feet.

I took a deep breath of the ocean air as I examined the machinery at the top of the lighthouse. It wasn’t sabotaged. It had been shut off.

There was a note:

I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry.

It was Jeremy’s handwriting. What had happened to him on this island?

Another quake beneath my feet reminded me that I didn’t have time to ponder what pushed him to make such a decision. I went to work, powering everything back on.

I gripped the final lever as the tentacles burst through the opening in the floor behind me.

“Back to the ocean, you ugly motherfucker!” I shouted.

With one pull of the lever, the machinery came to life. I shielded my eyes as blinding light swept across the landscape. The tentacles retreated as one final death rattle shook the lighthouse down to the foundation.

I collapsed onto the ground and let out a sigh as I picked up the note Jeremy had left. I held back tears as I read the short message again. I had no idea he was suffering. I didn’t know about the responsibility he shouldered.

The one that I know had on my shoulders.

Whatever slept beneath these waves, the lighthouse kept it at bay. I set down the note and lay my head back as the light swept past me once again.

Don’t worry, old friend. I’ll keep the light on for both of us.

---

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