The Lighthouse

 

Image created in Ai by Helen

 Tales of strange sightings of eidolons in the Watch Room window of the lighthouse, along with an aery voice that called to those who listened, were whispered to him by the locals in the pub. They said that once you heard the voice, you were unable to resist. That unexplained disappearances had happened since the late 1870’s and that the lighthouse had stood empty since the early 1900’s. No one, they said, was foolish enough to go near the old tower at dusk.
Willum swigged back a mouthful of the strong beer. He had never visited this part of the country before, and he wasn’t going to let some old wives tales stop him from visiting another lighthouse. He’d already seen two others on this trip along the coast. This one was one of the oldest still to be seen. He was only here for one day and he had to move on tomorrow. So if he wanted to see it, it was now or never.
Willum stood on the deserted beach, daylight almost gone, and looked at the empty tower that stood with the sound of algid water lapping around its white stones.
‘William, where are you?’ A voice drifted on the breeze.
He listened. It’s the wind playing tricks. 
Even as he thought it, he moved towards the lighthouse. Just for a moment he thought he saw a flicker of light from the lantern. He stopped and stared up, but all he could see was darkness.
‘William.’
There it is again. He frowned. It’s those stupid tales they’ve been telling me in the pub. Now my imagination is playing tricks. “After all I don’t believe in ghosts and all that rubbish.” He spoke the words as if to reassure himself. 
Dusk was creeping in fast but there was just enough light left for him to see the lighthouse in all its glory. He placed a hand on its cool stone.
‘Come, come in.’
It was as though the lighthouse was speaking to him. He didn’t understand what it was he felt, and yet, he could not turn away. The old door, with its paint faded over the decades, whined open. As dusk swallowed the last of the daylight, from the tower above, a light shone from the lantern room and reached out towards the intensely black sea.
“Hello.” Willum stumbled towards the open door. “Is anyone there?” 
 He stepped into the lower room. For a few seconds he could see nothing in front of him, until his eyes adjusted to the dimness. 
“Hello,” he called again.
As he moved further in, he heard the sound of footfalls on the stairs. 
There is somebody here. “Ghosts pfft!”
Willum started to climb, determined to catch up with whoever it was. He could still hear the footsteps as he  raced up. Out of breath, he stopped when he reached the Watch Room and listened. It was silent.
He bent over to catch his breath and saw each out breath billow in front of him like a misty cloud. The temperature had dropped and was getting colder by the second. The hair on the back of his neck bristled.
 Willum shivered. There was a faint whiff of pipe tobacco in the atmosphere. From behind him the clunk of machinery started up. He spun around and in the dull light saw the clockworks that kept the lens rotating, move.
 A blue haze started to form before him. His heart beat wildly as his mind tried to rationalise what it was seeing. His breath was now a thick fog that hung in the air. Every muscle in his body was tense. Frozen to the spot, eyes wide open, he watched as two apparitions materialised. The first an old man with a shaggy beard and pipe in his mouth, tending the clockworks that worked the lantern. The second was a woman. Her dress appeared soaked through. Her golden hair hung bedraggled. She pressed her hands and face against the window.
‘William, where are you?’
“It was you calling.” Willum uttered the words half to himself and half to her.
She turned and tilted her head. With arms open she rushed towards him. 
 ‘William I thought you drowned.’
Willum unable to move, gasped as he felt her pass through him. It was like a shard of ice had cut into his body and with it an explosion of emotion. All at once he felt her pain and her joy and then her anger.
‘You’re not William!’ Her voice echoed behind him.
He swung around to face her. Her soft features had changed. Her eyes were jet black and her mouth twisted into a grotesque distortion.
Willum fled down the stairs. 
She screamed after him.’ Even if you’re not William. I will still have you.’
He willed himself to go faster. He could hear her footsteps behind him. His heart now banged so loud that it filled his head. He reached the bottom and raced towards the open door. But stopped in his tracks. She barred his way. Her arms were flung wide. Her skirt and hair blew out behind her as the air around her seemed to swirl and twist.
‘You cannot leave me.’ Her laughter filled the room.
Willum took a deep breath. “Get out of my way bitch!”
He rushed forward and hurled himself at her. For several moments he was fighting to breathe. It was as if he was drowning in a sea of salt water. With every ounce of strength he could find he pushed himself through her and tumbled out the door and onto the sand below.
He looked back. She snarled at him and the door slammed shut. Shaken he picked himself up and began to walk away. He turned once more to glance at the lighthouse, now in total darkness. There was no sign of what had just happened, except for a voice carried in the breeze calling to those that would listen.
‘William, where are you?’