Here’s a story you might enjoy!
The lighthouse stood alone on the edge of the world, its towering frame battered by relentless waves and howling winds. For seventy years, it had watched over the treacherous coastline, warning sailors away from the jagged rocks that had claimed countless lives. And for the last twenty of those years, it had been the home of Elias Thorne.
Elias was a man of few words, content to live in solitude. He kept meticulous records of the weather, the tides, and the ships that passed in the distance. His only company was a black cat named Nimbus, who had wandered into the lighthouse one stormy night and never left.
Few people visited the lighthouse, except for the supply boat that came once a month. But one cold evening, just as the sun bled into the sea, a knock echoed through the tower. Elias frowned—no one ever came unannounced. He hesitated before opening the door.
A young woman stood there, wrapped in a heavy coat, her cheeks flushed from the cold. “Are you Elias Thorne?” she asked, her voice steady despite the wind.
He nodded.
“My name is Lillian Everett,” she said. “I believe you knew my grandfather—Samuel Everett.”
At the sound of that name, Elias stiffened. It had been years since he’d heard it, yet the memories surged back like the tide. Samuel Everett had been his closest friend. They had been lighthouse keepers together—until the night Samuel disappeared.
“Come inside,” Elias said, stepping aside.
Lillian entered, shaking off the cold. “I found some letters,” she said, pulling a bundle of aged papers from her coat. “Letters my grandfather wrote to you. They were never sent.”
Elias took the letters with trembling hands and sat by the fire, Nimbus curling at his feet. As he read, his heart pounded. Samuel’s words spoke of a secret—one that Elias had never known.
“Elias, I’ve uncovered something beneath the lighthouse. Something they never told us about. If anything happens to me, know that I didn’t leave willingly.”
Elias’s breath caught. That night, twenty years ago, he had woken to an empty lighthouse, the door swinging in the wind. The search parties had found no trace of Samuel, and eventually, he had been declared lost to the sea. But if the letters were true, Samuel hadn’t simply vanished—he had discovered something.
Elias stood, his mind racing. There was an old, rusted trapdoor in the base of the lighthouse, one he had never opened. He turned to Lillian. “We need to see what your grandfather found.”
Together, they descended the spiral stairs to the lighthouse’s foundation. The trapdoor was there, half-buried under crates and forgotten tools. With effort, they pried it open. A dark passage stretched beneath them, lined with stone walls damp with seawater.
They stepped inside, the air thick with age and secrets. At the end of the corridor was a chamber, its walls carved with strange symbols, its center dominated by an ancient chest. Elias hesitated, then lifted the lid.
Inside lay a leather-bound journal, its pages filled with sketches and notes about a hidden civilization, a lost relic of immense power—and a warning. The last entry was written in Samuel’s hand:
“They know I’ve found it. If you’re reading this, be careful. They will come for you, too.”
Lillian gasped. “Who are ‘they’?”
Elias turned as a shadow flickered at the passage’s entrance. Footsteps echoed down the corridor.
Someone else had found them.
And they were not alone.
