Speaker 1: Lighthouse is a production of I Heart Radio and Bamford Productions.
Speaker 1: Oh it's cold up here tonight. I guess it usually is,
Speaker 1: being this high up off the ground overlooking the ocean,
Speaker 1: especially in the dead of winter. Tonight is just especially cold.
Speaker 1: Maybe that's just because I don't feel anything anymore, and
Speaker 1: the biting wind up here is just biting enough for
Speaker 1: me to actually feel something for once. Would that be something?
Speaker 1: I spent the last years of my life just going
Speaker 1: through the motions, pretending to be normal, staying away from
Speaker 1: this place, when all I ever needed to feel again
Speaker 1: was to come back up here. That's not how life works, though,
Speaker 1: does it. We just try to do the best we can,
Speaker 1: you know, I've tried to, but no matter what, something
Speaker 1: can come along and ruin it for you. Just one
Speaker 1: swipe and it's all taken away in an instant, your
Speaker 1: life's path completely changed, for better or for worse, mostly
Speaker 1: worse in this case. I've always tried to look on
Speaker 1: the bright side of things, you know, try to find
Speaker 1: the good in the bad and the okay in the
Speaker 1: even worse. I've done that my entire life, sometimes to
Speaker 1: my own detriment, but it helped for the most part.
Speaker 1: I know what they say about me, I know what
Speaker 1: they feel. I just I don't care. I know it's
Speaker 1: an unconscious reaction past trauma. But every once in a while,
Speaker 1: when the moments of pure clarity shine through, like now,
Speaker 1: I can look back and reflect and say the hell
Speaker 1: with it. It seems to work for me, so why not.
Speaker 1: But it's not working for me anymore, is it. That's
Speaker 1: why we're here, Why I'm up here saying this to
Speaker 1: you right now on a cold winter's night, sitting at
Speaker 1: the top of a goddamn lighthouse that's been abandoned for decades,
Speaker 1: but still somehow lights it's beacon to signal that something
Speaker 1: bad is going to happen, Like right now, even as
Speaker 1: I am sitting up here alone, it's phantom beam is
Speaker 1: rotating out over the ocean, over the house, the grounds,
Speaker 1: through the snow, and back again, over and over. It
Speaker 1: sure does look beautiful from up here, though. Oh that
Speaker 1: snow stretching as far as the eye can see, falling
Speaker 1: into the water, disappearing into the abyss, blanketing the house
Speaker 1: as it floats to the ground. I just walked from
Speaker 1: there less than an hour ago, and it's like you'd
Speaker 1: never even know. It's coming down so hard it looks untouched. Now,
Speaker 1: I guess it'll stay that way. Sorry, getting off topic,
Speaker 1: getting ahead of myself. I do that when I'm nervous.
Speaker 1: But you know that already, don't you. Let me try
Speaker 1: and start this over again from the beginning. Hi, Tara,
Speaker 1: this is your sister Leany, and this this is my
Speaker 1: goodbye Lighthouse. Chapter nine. So much has happened over the
Speaker 1: years that I am not even sure where to begin.
Speaker 1: Looking back. There are major beats of the story that
Speaker 1: you were present for, things that you did for me
Speaker 1: that I am forever grateful for. But then there are
Speaker 1: the other aspects that are hazy details that I confused
Speaker 1: with other instances, and I'm not even sure what was
Speaker 1: real and what wasn't. I guess I should start with this,
Speaker 1: It's not your fault, Terra. I know that after I
Speaker 1: do this, you are going to beat yourself up over it,
Speaker 1: but I just need you to know this isn't your fault.
Speaker 1: You did the best you could and helped me as
Speaker 1: much as I could be. I guess it could be
Speaker 1: argued that it was my own stubborn refusal that did this.
Speaker 1: I should have left, I should have visited you in
Speaker 1: your family. I should have gotten far far away from here,
Speaker 1: but despite how much she has retreated into herself, I
Speaker 1: could never leave our mother here alone. At the end
Speaker 1: of the day, there's only one thing to blame for
Speaker 1: all this. The house lighthouse ruined our lives. And even
Speaker 1: though you're hundreds of miles away, I know you still
Speaker 1: can feel it calling out to you. It's got a
Speaker 1: siren's call, doesn't it. Over the years, I've come to
Speaker 1: realize that this old lighthouse, despite not having been used
Speaker 1: in years, still does exactly what it's job entailed. Except
Speaker 1: it's not calling out to those who are lost in
Speaker 1: the fog at sea, guiding their way so they can
Speaker 1: find their way home. No, Instead, the lighthouse is a
Speaker 1: beacon for darkness, calling it in from the far corners
Speaker 1: of the earth, letting it know. That lighthouse was a
Speaker 1: feeding ground on which they could stuff themselves full of
Speaker 1: unsuspecting souls. Even before the house was built, and long
Speaker 1: before the lighthouse, this land, the grounds on which it
Speaker 1: currently stands, was considered cursed. I found a book in
Speaker 1: our library, once hidden among the stacks and thousands of others,
Speaker 1: that detailed stories and lore from New Jersey stuff that
Speaker 1: was passed down from generation a generation, As these types
Speaker 1: of stories often are, there was one in particular, marked
Speaker 1: by dog eared pages and an ancient pencils circling it,
Speaker 1: that was of interest. It told of a parcel of
Speaker 1: land located on a bluff overlooking the ocean. The land
Speaker 1: sat barren for years as ancient tribes refused to settle
Speaker 1: on it. Despite its advantages, early colonizers to the area
Speaker 1: saw it as an opportunity established a camp there. Not
Speaker 1: only was it the perfect vantage point, but there were
Speaker 1: also resources to be had and rumors of fresh water
Speaker 1: running through the cliffs grounds. These settlers dug a well
Speaker 1: on the bluff. Deeper and deeper they went, until miraculously
Speaker 1: they did strike a vein of underground water. But despite
Speaker 1: their good fortune, apparently they found something else in the
Speaker 1: well too. A black cloud escaped from it, bursting into
Speaker 1: the air, scaring them all. Bad luck befell them then,
Speaker 1: and eventually the camp was abandoned and the well was
Speaker 1: covered up. Does any of that sound familiar, Terra, because
Speaker 1: it should. I mean, it's right there in stained glass
Speaker 1: on our front door, the well, the black cloud, and
Speaker 1: the lighthouse. I did some digging of my own, not physically,
Speaker 1: of course, but at the library, the land that the
Speaker 1: story spoke of. It's here, right where I'm standing, And
Speaker 1: the well, after years spent covered up, was destroyed. But
Speaker 1: what was built on that very same spot because of
Speaker 1: its natural vantage point the lighthouse, And soon after the
Speaker 1: lighthouse came a small home for the housekeeper, and then
Speaker 1: eventually the Hollis family home, our home lighthouse. I wish
Speaker 1: I had saved that book and put it aside for
Speaker 1: you to see, because after that day I read that
Speaker 1: the one time I saw it, I never saw the
Speaker 1: book again. I searched that library top to bottom, each
Speaker 1: in every shelf, but to no avail. Was it even real?
Speaker 1: Did I just imagine the whole thing? Or was it
Speaker 1: just the house playing tricks on me? Once I started
Speaker 1: to learn its secrets. I believe that book had more
Speaker 1: in there, maybe even something I could have used to
Speaker 1: stop the darkness, But now that it's gone, we'll never
Speaker 1: know for sure. I have some ideas, but nothing concrete.
Speaker 1: I sure would have come in handy though, especially now
Speaker 1: now that I have no choice. But I'm getting ahead
Speaker 1: of myself again. Sorry, Tara, I should probably tell you
Speaker 1: about the other stuff first, Like Abigail. Now, look before
Speaker 1: you roll your eyes, because I know that is exactly
Speaker 1: what you are doing right now. I need you to
Speaker 1: understand something about her. I know you think she's been
Speaker 1: a bad influence on me, and sure, in some ways
Speaker 1: she was, but she's not all bad. She's actually kind
Speaker 1: of well, I don't know if if nice is the
Speaker 1: word for it, but helpful. You already know who she
Speaker 1: really is. Madeleine hollis Dad's younger sister. What you don't
Speaker 1: know is that she loved our father very much, so
Speaker 1: when she started to talk to me, she thought calling
Speaker 1: herself Abigail would endear herself to him. I guess she
Speaker 1: was wrong, But as scary as she may have been
Speaker 1: to you, sometimes she really was trying to help. She's
Speaker 1: just a little girl forever stuck in that mindset because
Speaker 1: her life was taken from her far too early. Maybe
Speaker 1: that's the reason I sometimes act like a child. She
Speaker 1: she and I both went through something tragic when we
Speaker 1: were young, so we can relate on that level. Now. Granted,
Speaker 1: she died and I didn't, so she had a little worse,
Speaker 1: but you know what I mean, and she helped us
Speaker 1: a lot, even without you realizing it. She's on our side,
Speaker 1: I promise you. She just wasn't enough. Nothing is ever enough.
Speaker 1: I saw that little boy on my way here, the
Speaker 1: one with the chattering teeth. We didn't see him a
Speaker 1: lot as kids, but I see him more now now
Speaker 1: that I'm spending more time up here and not in
Speaker 1: the dark room. I guess he's confined to the grounds
Speaker 1: and not the house itself. That's weird, right, Like how
Speaker 1: come some of them can go wherever they want, like Abigail,
Speaker 1: and others are stuck to the one place. It doesn't
Speaker 1: make any sense, but there has to be a reason
Speaker 1: for it. Anyway I saw him, This weather is perfect
Speaker 1: for him, his teeth just gnashing away in the cold.
Speaker 1: I assume he died out here somewhere, froze to death
Speaker 1: on the property, and is forever doomed to repeat that fate.
Speaker 1: He followed me all the way out here, and the
Speaker 1: way his body moves freaks me out. It's not natural.
Speaker 1: It's all jerky and slow. But no matter how fast
Speaker 1: I moved, he was still right behind me. Maybe he
Speaker 1: just wants a friend. They don't all have to be bad,
Speaker 1: do they? Some of them can be good, right, Like Abigail,
Speaker 1: I keep avoiding saying what I really need to say,
Speaker 1: and I'm sure that it is frustrating for you hearing
Speaker 1: me babil on about nothing without getting to the reason
Speaker 1: I'm here. I think I know how to stop all this, Terra,
Speaker 1: and I mean really, stop it once and for all.
Speaker 1: And I'm going to try. I really am. But m h,
Speaker 1: if you're listening to this right now, if you're hearing this,
Speaker 1: that means something went wrong. It means that I'm I'm gone.
Speaker 1: Lighthouse will return after these messages and now back to Lighthouse.
Speaker 1: Before I tell you my plan, I need to tell
Speaker 1: you what I am thinking. How I got here, about
Speaker 1: the time the shadowy thing came for me and failed,
Speaker 1: not by much, but thankfully enough that I was able
Speaker 1: to escape. The seed was planted. I remember, just before
Speaker 1: you left for college. It was on a night I
Speaker 1: couldn't sleep well almost nights, yes, but on this one
Speaker 1: I was especially restless. I was thirsty and I went
Speaker 1: to get a drink of water. It was late and
Speaker 1: I didn't want to wake anyone, so I took a
Speaker 1: candle instead of turning on any lights. It was dark
Speaker 1: and the candle only illuminated so little of the world
Speaker 1: around me, but it was enough to light my way.
Speaker 1: It was quiet at first, but then I heard a
Speaker 1: rumbling behind me. I turned to see, but of course
Speaker 1: nothing was there. We were no strangers to the ghosts
Speaker 1: of the house, and my hope was that it was
Speaker 1: just Abigail checking up on me, making sure I was safe.
Speaker 1: I was wrong, though, because the more I walked, the
Speaker 1: more the rumbling echoed behind me. The hallway, for some reason,
Speaker 1: started to feel impossibly long. I kept walking and walking,
Speaker 1: and it kept stretching on forever. I wasn't making any progress,
Speaker 1: it seemed. I began to run, afraid of what might
Speaker 1: be coming next. When an unearthly sound caused me to
Speaker 1: turn around. The shadowy thing was in the walls, bulging
Speaker 1: its body outward as it came for me, stretching the
Speaker 1: wood and plaster in unnatural proportions. It got closer and closer,
Speaker 1: and I kept running, but it was like I was
Speaker 1: running in place. I couldn't get away from it. It
Speaker 1: jumped out of the wall and into the carpet, hot
Speaker 1: on my heels, like a shark stucking through the water,
Speaker 1: and then it was on me. I turned and it
Speaker 1: came right at me, Tara. I turned to see, and
Speaker 1: I stumbled backward, thinking that it was the end for me,
Speaker 1: that the darkness was finally going to get me. I
Speaker 1: held my hands in front of my face to block it,
Speaker 1: a fruitless effort, of course, but it stopped. One second
Speaker 1: it was there, and then the next it roared away,
Speaker 1: running like a dog with its tail between its legs.
Speaker 1: I had no idea what had happened. I thought maybe
Speaker 1: it was just trying to scare me, toy with me.
Speaker 1: But then I felt it. A bit of hot wax
Speaker 1: dripped off the candle still in my hand onto my stomach.
Speaker 1: It hurt only for a second, but it gave me
Speaker 1: an idea. What if it was the candle, the one
Speaker 1: that I held in my hand, holding it up in
Speaker 1: a defensive measure. What if it was afraid of the flame? Silly,
Speaker 1: I know, but that was the only thing I could
Speaker 1: think of. I thought about that moment a lot over
Speaker 1: the years. I should have told you about it. I
Speaker 1: should have tested that theory out sooner. I should have
Speaker 1: thought about it when the darkness took Dad before I
Speaker 1: had well, you know, it was later on, after you
Speaker 1: had left for good that I was able to actually
Speaker 1: try it out. It was a little dangerous, I know
Speaker 1: that now, but it had been gnawing away at me
Speaker 1: for years, and I had to see. It wasn't even planned, honestly.
Speaker 1: I was in the dining room and I saw that
Speaker 1: made you know, the one, the woman with the bleeding eyes.
Speaker 1: She was setting the table again before she noticed me,
Speaker 1: a ghostly action that was never ending, since her phantom's
Speaker 1: silverware never stayed in sight for long. I watched her
Speaker 1: for a bit before she noticed me. When she did,
Speaker 1: she stopped and stared. I stared right back. A flickering
Speaker 1: caught my eye, and I saw that there were a
Speaker 1: few candles lit on the table. I don't know why
Speaker 1: it popped into my head then, but I grabbed the
Speaker 1: candle labra that often sat in the center, armed with
Speaker 1: not one, but three candles. I took a step toward her.
Speaker 1: She didn't move. I took another, and still she stood there.
Speaker 1: But on the third step, when I was within a
Speaker 1: foot or so from her, she grimaced and took step back. Surprised,
Speaker 1: I walked toward her again, and again she kept moving
Speaker 1: away from me. I continued trying to back her up
Speaker 1: to the wall, but she eventually just vanished before she
Speaker 1: got there. That was it all I needed to know.
Speaker 1: It might have just been a fluke, but it looked
Speaker 1: like the ghosts of lighthouse did not like an open flame.
Speaker 1: There wasn't much I could do with that information at
Speaker 1: the time, but I was going to use it as
Speaker 1: a precaution. I began to light candles a night in
Speaker 1: my room before I went to bed. I tried to
Speaker 1: carry one around as much as possible, just in case.
Speaker 1: It acted like a deterrent for a bit, like a
Speaker 1: mosquito and citronella, but not forever. Unfortunately, perhaps they got
Speaker 1: wise to my plan, but the candles began to go out.
Speaker 1: They'd be out when I would wake up in the morning,
Speaker 1: or a gust of wind would snuff one out as
Speaker 1: I carried it. I still did it, though, even if
Speaker 1: it wasn't a perfect method. It gave me a little
Speaker 1: bit of hope, which is more than I had before.
Speaker 1: But over the last few years, I can feel the
Speaker 1: darkness closing in on me. It consumes people, Terra. But
Speaker 1: I think you know that already. I think you had
Speaker 1: some idea after we watched what it did to our
Speaker 1: father eats them up from the inside out and turns
Speaker 1: them into a hollow shell of a person. It drives
Speaker 1: them mad, and once they are so weak that they
Speaker 1: can no longer help themselves, it takes over in their
Speaker 1: final moments and takes them. We were good at keeping
Speaker 1: it out away from us, but that night I killed Dad.
Speaker 1: I think I unintentionally opened a door for it to
Speaker 1: come in. I committed an act of violence, and it
Speaker 1: was drawn to me. The darkness got into my heart.
Speaker 1: I've been fighting it off for so many years, but Tara,
Speaker 1: I'm just so tired. I'm tired of constantly keeping my
Speaker 1: guard up. I'm tired of the sleepless nights, and I'm
Speaker 1: tired of wondering when the moment will come, when its
Speaker 1: final strike will take me away and I'll be stuck
Speaker 1: within it forever. I can see it watching me, Tara,
Speaker 1: late at night, just outside the circle of candle light,
Speaker 1: in shadows of its own making, in the corners of
Speaker 1: the house as I go about my day, and even
Speaker 1: here in the lighthouse itself. It moves freely in the house,
Speaker 1: using those it has consumed in the past as vessels
Speaker 1: to do its bidding. But I don't think it lives there.
Speaker 1: It was trapped in the dark room when we found it.
Speaker 1: But that's not where it's originally from. It's from somewhere else,
Speaker 1: from somewhere deep within the earth. And if that book
Speaker 1: is right, then the lighthouse is ground zero. I've been
Speaker 1: coming here for years, watching and waiting myself, trying to
Speaker 1: study it, trying to find a pattern or a clue
Speaker 1: or just something to help. And I think I finally
Speaker 1: have it figured out. I think this is the way
Speaker 1: to stop it. I'm going to lure it here to
Speaker 1: the lighthouse. I'm going to try to trap it inside,
Speaker 1: and then when it's backed into a corner with nowhere
Speaker 1: else to go, I'm going to burn it to the ground.
Speaker 1: This lighthouse is old and falling apart anyway, right, I mean,
Speaker 1: it's been deteriorating for years, long before we even moved in,
Speaker 1: and it's one step away from being condemned. I piled
Speaker 1: a bunch of old wooden boxes on the ground floor
Speaker 1: to help ignite it, and I even sprinkled some gasoline
Speaker 1: on everything to spread the flame from the bottom floor
Speaker 1: up the stairs to right here near the beacon. If
Speaker 1: I can time it right, and luck is on my side,
Speaker 1: I think there may be a chance. It's not a
Speaker 1: perfect plan. I know there are so many ways it
Speaker 1: can go wrong, and honestly I'm not very optimistic about it,
Speaker 1: but it's all I have tera I have to do
Speaker 1: something because, like I said, I can feel it watching
Speaker 1: me now more so than ever. I feel like it's
Speaker 1: getting ready to strike, so my time is growing short.
Speaker 1: It's now or never. If this goes south, then my
Speaker 1: only recourse to escape the darkness is to jump off
Speaker 1: the lighthouse into the ocean. It's a long drop, you
Speaker 1: can see that, and I won't survive it. To everyone else,
Speaker 1: that will probably look like suicide, a poor, lonely woman
Speaker 1: whose life was filled with tragedy taking her life so
Speaker 1: she doesn't have to endure it anymore. Despite how it
Speaker 1: may look to everyone else, I want you to know
Speaker 1: that it wasn't. It's just my last desperate attempt to
Speaker 1: escape and make sure the darkness does not get me.
Speaker 1: But it has to be done. I'm sorry for not
Speaker 1: telling you this in person or sooner. I'm sorry for
Speaker 1: not involving you. You'd want to help, but I can't
Speaker 1: risk you getting hurt too. This is something I have
Speaker 1: to do. Alone to give you and Mom a chance
Speaker 1: at getting better. It's time for me to kill the darkness.
Speaker 1: Lighthouse were returned after a word from our sponsors, and
Speaker 1: now Lighthouse continues. There's just one last thing before I go,
Speaker 1: something I need to ask of you, Terra, and it's
Speaker 1: something I'm not sure you will be comfortable with if
Speaker 1: I don't make it out of this. If I fail,
Speaker 1: I need you to take care of Abigail for me.
Speaker 1: She's an innocent in all of this, Terra. I know
Speaker 1: she is. She may have been frightening to you, but
Speaker 1: she was always a comfort for me. She was always
Speaker 1: there for me, especially after you were gone. And and
Speaker 1: don't take that as me blaming you for leaving, because
Speaker 1: I am not. I know why you did, and I
Speaker 1: wish I had the same strength you did that. Abigail
Speaker 1: truly was a bright spot in all this darkness for me.
Speaker 1: She helped me get through some tough times. Yes, she
Speaker 1: sometimes does bad things, but I think that's only because
Speaker 1: the darkness is in her. She's like me. She tries
Speaker 1: to do good, but sometimes she can't fight against it either.
Speaker 1: I think at first she was priming me to be
Speaker 1: like her, a vessel for the darkness to corrupt, but
Speaker 1: she fought against it, and she's been getting better at
Speaker 1: controlling it. She can be herself with me. I left
Speaker 1: some things for you in your room. There is a
Speaker 1: box on your bed. The teddy Bear is in there.
Speaker 1: I believe she is tied to it, and if it
Speaker 1: goes she will too, and I hope no. I know
Speaker 1: that if you take it far away from here, the
Speaker 1: darkness won't be able to get to her anymore. Whether
Speaker 1: or not I succeed, it shouldn't matter. She'll be free,
Speaker 1: and that's what we all want, right to be free.
Speaker 1: Hopefully after tonight we will be all of us, Me, you, Mom, Abigail,
Speaker 1: everyone else that it is consumed, and if not, at
Speaker 1: least I tried. Right. If this recording does fall into
Speaker 1: your hands and I'm gone, please tell Mom I love
Speaker 1: her too, that I don't blame her either, and that
Speaker 1: I'm sorry. And I'm sorry to you too. I love you,
Speaker 1: tera You're the best sister anyone could asked for. And
Speaker 1: I'll miss you. Okay, it's now or never. I said,
Speaker 1: I have to lure it here, and while I'm not sure,
Speaker 1: I I think this part will work too. I haven't
Speaker 1: touched it in years, but it always seemed to attract it, right,
Speaker 1: m such a pretty song. I used to love it,
Speaker 1: but I grew to hate it over the years. You know.
Speaker 1: As strange as it sounds, one of my fondest memories
Speaker 1: of childhood was going on that adventure with you to
Speaker 1: find it. Granted, we accidentally unleashed some kind of ancient
Speaker 1: evil from its hiding place, sure, but everything before that
Speaker 1: it was fun. We sure did have fun, didn't we.
Speaker 1: We always made the most of our situation. Looking back,
Speaker 1: I know we were poor, but we were kids. We
Speaker 1: did know any better. We had each other and our
Speaker 1: family and that was enough. Right. Well, now that's it, then,
Speaker 1: I just I just wait. I don't know how long
Speaker 1: it will take or if it will even work, but
Speaker 1: that's all there is left to do. This. The view
Speaker 1: is nice. It's a shame we couldn't even get up
Speaker 1: here to enjoy it, and we were kids. I thought
Speaker 1: we would have loved it in another life, without all
Speaker 1: the ghosts and spooky stuff of Lighthouse. I think I
Speaker 1: think we would have been happy here. We would have
Speaker 1: grown up happy and moved out, had happy lives, and
Speaker 1: then one day one of us would have inherited the house.
Speaker 1: I could have raised our own kids here, maybe even together,
Speaker 1: and told them about how wonderful life was here. We
Speaker 1: could have shown them the gorgeous view from up top here,
Speaker 1: or the winding passages and secrets of lighthouse. Wouldn't that
Speaker 1: have been great? One big, happy family growing old together
Speaker 1: in a place we loved. I can't remember the last
Speaker 1: time I even was happy. I just want to be
Speaker 1: happy again, Tara. I'm sure you're happy with your family
Speaker 1: and your life far far away from here, but I
Speaker 1: think you feel it too, that feeling the lighthouse is
Speaker 1: still there, calling out to us, trying to get us,
Speaker 1: and that we won't even be truly happy until it's gone.
Speaker 1: And it does need to go. I thought there could
Speaker 1: be another way. I thought I could stop it. I
Speaker 1: thought if I learned their stories, knew about their life,
Speaker 1: it would help. I know all of them now, Tara,
Speaker 1: everyone that has ever lived and died in the house,
Speaker 1: I know all about them, their tragedies, their triumphs, their lives.
Speaker 1: I thought names were supposed to give you power over someone,
Speaker 1: But I know all their names, and yet they keep
Speaker 1: coming for me. Ter They keep coming and coming, and
Speaker 1: they don't stop, and one day they are going to
Speaker 1: catch me when I'm not ready for them, and it
Speaker 1: will be over. I have to do this, I have to.
Speaker 1: I can hear it, Tara, even over the wind, the
Speaker 1: ocean crashing below. I can hear it stirring. The music
Speaker 1: box woken, and it's coming for me. Now there it is.
Speaker 1: I can see you through the windows, that shadowy thing.
Speaker 1: It's looking for me in the house. It thinks I'm
Speaker 1: still inside, but it's only amount of time before it
Speaker 1: realizes that. Yes, they're It sees me up here. I
Speaker 1: just looked in my direction. It's leaving the house. Now
Speaker 1: I can see it's blackness against the snow, rushing toward
Speaker 1: the lighthouse. It's inside. It's here, This is it. It's time. Goodbye, Tera,
Speaker 1: I love you, No No MHM. Lighthouse is a production
Speaker 1: of I Heart Radio and Bamford Productions. Chapter nine featured
Speaker 1: the voice of Paulina Logan. Written and directed by Jeff Himbuck,
Speaker 1: audio engineering, an original musical score by Corey Celeste. Production
Speaker 1: assistance by Alex Gona. Executive produced by Holly Fry. Questions comments,
Speaker 1: you can reach us at the Man in the Hat
Speaker 1: is Watching at Gmail dot com. Thank you for listening.