Speaker 1: Lighthouse is a production of I Heart Radio and Bamford Productions.
Speaker 1: The man in the Hat had a name. It took
Speaker 1: some time, but after I witnessed the vision of his death,
Speaker 1: I returned home and began to research who he was.
Speaker 1: Spurred by his tragic demise, I wanted to get to
Speaker 1: the bottom of why he was there, and perhaps see
Speaker 1: if there was anything I could do to help him.
Speaker 1: He may have haunted my childhood, but if I could
Speaker 1: ease his suffering in any way and release the darkness's
Speaker 1: hold on him, perhaps I could do the same for Leny.
Speaker 1: I wasn't there for her as I should have been
Speaker 1: in life, but perhaps in death I could change that.
Speaker 1: Record Keeping wasn't a forte in the early days of
Speaker 1: the Lighthouse, apparently, but with some diligent work and persistence
Speaker 1: with bureaucracy at town Hall, I was able to find him.
Speaker 1: The man in the hat had a name, and his
Speaker 1: name was Alexander Blythe Alexander worked for my father his
Speaker 1: family before my father was born. When the Hollises built
Speaker 1: Lighthouse on the bluff, taking over the land that the
Speaker 1: lighthousekeeper lived on, They also built a small apartment within
Speaker 1: the lighthouse itself. While the lighthouse was still in operation,
Speaker 1: the keeper also acted as the groundsman for the property.
Speaker 1: Alexander Blythe was one such groundsman. He worked hard for
Speaker 1: the Hollis family for a little over a year, his
Speaker 1: family living in the modest apartment in the lighthouse. From
Speaker 1: what I could find, he was a good, honest worker
Speaker 1: who loved his job and his family. The Hollises seemed
Speaker 1: to like him as well. According to the newspaper reports
Speaker 1: I found, he unexpectedly sent his young daughter away to
Speaker 1: visit his brother one summer's day. Later, on that night,
Speaker 1: he murdered his wife and then took his own life.
Speaker 1: I thought back to the photo of him Leani and
Speaker 1: I found all those years ago within the dark room.
Speaker 1: It was dated nineteen twenty nine, the same year he
Speaker 1: hung himself inside the lighthouse. Who knew how long he
Speaker 1: had known about the darkness within the house before he
Speaker 1: had no choice but to do what he did when
Speaker 1: that photo was taken. Was his mind already made up?
Speaker 1: After I saw the man in the hats death, I
Speaker 1: did not see him again outside of lighthouse for some time,
Speaker 1: perhaps because I had learned his fate, or because I
Speaker 1: knew of his history. Now he stayed away and gave
Speaker 1: me a bit of peace for once. But when he
Speaker 1: did appear again, it was to take everything from me.
Speaker 1: But that came later. Before that came something else. Lighthouse,
Speaker 1: Chapter eight, two thousand and one. I left Lighthouse on
Speaker 1: that day after my sister's suicide and seeing the death
Speaker 1: of the man in the Hat, knowing full well that
Speaker 1: I would have to return. My mother needed help. Confined
Speaker 1: to a wheelchair and addicted to the bottle, she was
Speaker 1: unable to do much for herself. Lighthouse was big, too
Speaker 1: big for two people when my sister was still alive,
Speaker 1: and now that she was gone, its vastness was going
Speaker 1: to be lonely for my mother. We hadn't spoken much
Speaker 1: since she said such hurtful things to me, but I
Speaker 1: still wanted to help as best I could. Using what
Speaker 1: little extra money I had, I hired an aid for her.
Speaker 1: At first, she visited my mother only twice a week,
Speaker 1: taking care of essentials and whatever odds and ends needed
Speaker 1: to be done around the house. But as the years
Speaker 1: were on and my mother became less and less capable,
Speaker 1: the aid became a full time companion for her. When
Speaker 1: the sensury turned into the year two thousand, my mother
Speaker 1: became ill. We thought it was a simple cold at
Speaker 1: first when the aid called me during a weekly check in,
Speaker 1: but as the weeks were on and she didn't get
Speaker 1: any better, it turned into something much more serious. Her
Speaker 1: years of drinking and neglecting her own health had taken
Speaker 1: its toll on her. My mother was dying. Her kidneys
Speaker 1: were failing, and because of the condition of her body
Speaker 1: and her age, replacement was not an option. The full
Speaker 1: time aid turned into a living nurse as she required
Speaker 1: constant care. I wanted to visit, but any time the
Speaker 1: subject was brought up, my mother refused me. The nurse
Speaker 1: thought it was just the pain and agony of her
Speaker 1: predicament and treatments, but I knew that wasn't the case.
Speaker 1: My mother just did not want to see me. Of course,
Speaker 1: I was sad and heartbroken about did the spider strained relationship.
Speaker 1: She was still my mother and I loved her, But
Speaker 1: deep inside, a part of me was thankful, thankful that
Speaker 1: I didn't have to return to Lighthouse to face its ghosts,
Speaker 1: and thankful that once she was gone, I would have
Speaker 1: nothing tying me there and truly wouldn't have to go
Speaker 1: back ever again. I hated myself for thinking that. In
Speaker 1: the early months of two thousand one, my mother took
Speaker 1: a turn for the worse. She was put on hospice care,
Speaker 1: and though she remained steadfast on not wanting me there,
Speaker 1: I had to see her say goodbye. I never got
Speaker 1: a chance to do so for Leny, and I regretted
Speaker 1: that every day I wouldn't make the same steak for
Speaker 1: my mother. Sarah, the living nurse, met me outside when
Speaker 1: I arrived, a welcome side compared to what usually greeted me.
Speaker 1: After only speaking with her over the phone for a
Speaker 1: few months, it was nice to finally meet her in person.
Speaker 1: Are you hungry, she asked, making her way toward the kitchen.
Speaker 1: I was just about to make some lunch, and I'd
Speaker 1: be happy to make some for you, I told her.
Speaker 1: I was starved and thankful for the invitation. As it
Speaker 1: turned out, Sarah made a delicious tomato soup complimented by
Speaker 1: grilled cheese sandwiches. My mother couldn't handle solids anymore, she explained,
Speaker 1: so it was mostly soup to keep up her strength,
Speaker 1: while the sandwiches were solely for us. We ate mostly
Speaker 1: in silence for a bit until Sarah got a strange
Speaker 1: look on her face. Can I ask you something? She said,
Speaker 1: looking unsure of herself. Of course, I told her as
Speaker 1: I put my sandwich down, sensing what she was about
Speaker 1: to say. This is going to sound silly. Have you
Speaker 1: ever seen anything in this house? I mean, I was
Speaker 1: unsure of how much or little to tell her. With
Speaker 1: my mother on her final days, maybe even hours, I
Speaker 1: didn't want to send this poor girl screaming from the house.
Speaker 1: Let's just say that Lighthouse has seen its share of
Speaker 1: inhabitants over the years, some of which didn't leave. She's
Speaker 1: mile nodded and laughed a little. Again. I've been around
Speaker 1: death long enough not to be surprised by much, she said,
Speaker 1: but sometimes this house surprises me. I like your mom,
Speaker 1: but I'll be glad to be gone. Nothing more needed
Speaker 1: to be said, an unspoken agreement placed between us. I
Speaker 1: hoped for her sake that Lighthouse did not take a
Speaker 1: hold of her like it did most others, and that
Speaker 1: she could leave the place soon. Sarah cleaned up her
Speaker 1: dirty plates and went to go check on my mother.
Speaker 1: I needed to brace myself for seeing her, so I
Speaker 1: went outside for a quick walk around the grounds, Needing
Speaker 1: a bit of fresh air. It was nice out there,
Speaker 1: different than the stuffy feeling within the walls of the house.
Speaker 1: I walked toward the bluff itself, the ocean looking strikingly
Speaker 1: gorgeous that day. With the lighthouse off to my right,
Speaker 1: the view looked like a postcard. I looked up towards
Speaker 1: the beacon, hoping I would not see it light up
Speaker 1: during my stay, anxious to stay far far away at
Speaker 1: this time. Around on the opposite end of the bluff.
Speaker 1: Standing on the other side of the lighthouse was the
Speaker 1: apparition of the sailor I sometimes saw wandering the grounds.
Speaker 1: I only ever had one bad encounter with him, when
Speaker 1: I got too close to him as a child, and
Speaker 1: he bellowed like a roaring ocean. He mostly kept to himself,
Speaker 1: staring off to sea, much like he was doing now.
Speaker 1: The sunlight shone through him, giving off the illusion that
Speaker 1: he was glowing. He looked almost peaceful, as if an
Speaker 1: eternity spent tied here was of no bother to him.
Speaker 1: He turned to look toward me, and the serenity was
Speaker 1: ruined by the appearance of the gaping hole where his
Speaker 1: right eye used to be. Though uncommon on the east coast.
Speaker 1: I silently prayed for an earthquake to loosen the ground
Speaker 1: around the bluff, sending both the lighthouse and him sprawling
Speaker 1: into the ocean, never to be seen again. I was
Speaker 1: brought out of my day dream by Sarah, hearing a
Speaker 1: call from me back from the house. My mother was
Speaker 1: likely awake waiting for me. Back inside, Sarah was taking
Speaker 1: care of some laundry and directed me toward my mother's room.
Speaker 1: As I ascended to the second story, it dawned on
Speaker 1: me that I hadn't been in my parents room for
Speaker 1: a long long time, since I was a little girl.
Speaker 1: Heading there made me feel like I was getting in
Speaker 1: trouble in a way I was. My mother, even on
Speaker 1: her deathbed, was sure to tell me how much she
Speaker 1: didn't care to see me. I reached the top and
Speaker 1: turned the corner to the long hallway where her room
Speaker 1: was located. Even outside the doorway, I could hear the
Speaker 1: various apparatuses inside keeping her alive. When I turned the
Speaker 1: knob and opened the door, I was taken back by
Speaker 1: just how many machines were in there and how little
Speaker 1: the woman in the bed resembled my mother. Dominated on
Speaker 1: each side by large medical equipment. My mother looked small
Speaker 1: and fragile, tucked into the bed. Her skin was sickly yellow,
Speaker 1: and her facial features looked sunken. Her eyes were open,
Speaker 1: looking in my direction, but I was unsure if she
Speaker 1: actually saw me. I carefully made my way to her bedside,
Speaker 1: trying not to trip over any of the assorted wires
Speaker 1: on the floor. Pulling over a chair to sit next
Speaker 1: to her, I faltered before reaching out to grab her hand.
Speaker 1: It was like holding onto a skeleton, nothing left but
Speaker 1: skin and bone. She turned to look at me, and
Speaker 1: for the first time I entered the room, it seemed
Speaker 1: like she truly saw me. Her grip tightened in my
Speaker 1: hand and tears welled up in her eyes, catching me
Speaker 1: by surprise. It was a very rare show of affection.
Speaker 1: Tera she managed to say, her voice a raspy whisper
Speaker 1: of what it once was. I'm so glad you came.
Speaker 1: The tears came from me as years of pent up
Speaker 1: emotion released in that instant. Hi, Mum, I said, holding
Speaker 1: her hand tighter. I'm so happy to see you. She
Speaker 1: smiled at me, before the happiness in her eyes became sad.
Speaker 1: There was already a gauntlet of emotions I was running
Speaker 1: through at the moment, all of which were unexpected, so
Speaker 1: I wasn't sure what had happened. Instead of asking, I
Speaker 1: leaned in to hug her, the type of embrace I
Speaker 1: had not enjoyed with my mother for many years. She
Speaker 1: returned it as best she could, and she cried in
Speaker 1: my ear. I'm so sorry, she whispered, holding me tight,
Speaker 1: so very sorry. Confused, I moved back to look at
Speaker 1: her and asked her what she meant for everything. She replied,
Speaker 1: for pushing you away, for treating you so poorly. It's okay,
Speaker 1: I told her, completely taken by surprise by this admission.
Speaker 1: I wasn't the best daughter to you. It wasn't that,
Speaker 1: she assured me, not at all. I was trying to
Speaker 1: protect you. I wasn't sure what she meant by that,
Speaker 1: and it rendered me speechless for a few moments. Protect me,
Speaker 1: I asked, from what the house from the darkness that
Speaker 1: lives here, Because it's coming for me next. Lighthouse will
Speaker 1: return after these messages, and now back to Lighthouse. Not once,
Speaker 1: in all my years living at Lighthouse or even after,
Speaker 1: did my mother ever acknowledge the darkness that called it home.
Speaker 1: Not once did she ever let on that she believed
Speaker 1: my sister or my cries for help or safety from
Speaker 1: the man in the hat, or the maid, or even
Speaker 1: the body hanging in the tree. I don't know when
Speaker 1: that changed or how long she even was aware of
Speaker 1: the things going on here, but it was surprising to
Speaker 1: hear her admit it. But when she was laying on
Speaker 1: her deathbed, my mother told me things she had wanted
Speaker 1: to for years but never had the courage to. Despite
Speaker 1: her flaws and her own shortcomings, my mother really was
Speaker 1: trying to save me. She didn't let on as to
Speaker 1: when she first noticed the darkness and what it was doing,
Speaker 1: but she was aware. For her, it wasn't the man
Speaker 1: in the hat that haunted her, but rather the servant
Speaker 1: that I often saw in the spare bedrooms upstairs, and
Speaker 1: the maid from the kitchen. They would appear to her
Speaker 1: when she was alone and most vulnerable. She tried to
Speaker 1: ignore the most times, avoiding looking in the direction, but
Speaker 1: sometimes she couldn't help herself. They both taunted her in
Speaker 1: their own unique ways. She told me she would sometimes
Speaker 1: check on us at night while we were asleep in
Speaker 1: our beds, and one of the two specters would often
Speaker 1: be by our side, leering at us like a predator
Speaker 1: eyeing its prey. Other times they would simply stand in
Speaker 1: the darkness, watching her with wide eyes. She admitted that
Speaker 1: the maid was the worst, as the blood streaming from
Speaker 1: her eyes gave off a ghastly appearance that was too
Speaker 1: much to handle. She even heard whispers in the dark
Speaker 1: of the night, especially when lying in her own bed
Speaker 1: sleeping next to our father mother. She never knew for
Speaker 1: sure if he was talking back to them, but it
Speaker 1: terrified her all the same. At first, she believed it
Speaker 1: was manageable. She loved her family and her husband, and
Speaker 1: she thought she could keep it all at bay because
Speaker 1: of our strong family bond. The first time my father
Speaker 1: hit her was when she realized how wrong she was.
Speaker 1: By that point, it was too late. They had spent
Speaker 1: most of the inheritance money on paying off debts and
Speaker 1: were stuck with nowhere else to go. She did her
Speaker 1: best to keep my father's ire off of us and
Speaker 1: focused on her, and for the most part, she did
Speaker 1: a good job. But knowing that she spent years directing
Speaker 1: his rage in her own direction so my sister and
Speaker 1: I would be safe from it was almost too much.
Speaker 1: To bear. She told me that she kept that up
Speaker 1: for as long as she could, but as it began
Speaker 1: to take its toll on her, she turned to drinking.
Speaker 1: She had watched it consume my father, much like the
Speaker 1: darkness had, but she couldn't help herself. It helped dull
Speaker 1: the pain and take away her bad thoughts. She had
Speaker 1: no idea how caught up in it she became. The
Speaker 1: night my father went mad and Lini had to kill
Speaker 1: him was the night my mother knew we were cursed,
Speaker 1: cursed with the darkness and the burden of Lighthouse. She
Speaker 1: was stubborn. Though Lighthouse was her home, it was supposed
Speaker 1: to be her new beginning, our new beginning. She would
Speaker 1: stay and defend it as long as she could, keeping
Speaker 1: the darkness at bay for as long as possible. And
Speaker 1: she knew that Lini was trapped. To her allegiance to
Speaker 1: Abigail and the fact that she had killed our father.
Speaker 1: Told my mother that a part of the darkness had
Speaker 1: already worked its way inside of her. I was different.
Speaker 1: She saw that I had fought back against the darkness,
Speaker 1: unconsciously or not. Ever since we moved into that house,
Speaker 1: I still had light in my soul and my mother
Speaker 1: recognized that she wanted to get me away from the house,
Speaker 1: needed me to be safe, because in her eyes, I
Speaker 1: was the only one of us that still had a
Speaker 1: chance of surviving the darkness. She did the one thing
Speaker 1: that she felt she had to do in order to
Speaker 1: save me. She pushed me away. Looking back on everything,
Speaker 1: it made perfect sense. Her constant coldness towards me, or
Speaker 1: berating of my actions when we did speak, did create
Speaker 1: a distance between us, effectively breaking down our relationship. I
Speaker 1: had admitted as much already that the distance between my
Speaker 1: mother and I had been a reason I kept away
Speaker 1: from Lighthouse all those years, but learning that it was
Speaker 1: intentional on her part, that it was not out of
Speaker 1: hate but out of love, broke my heart. I spent
Speaker 1: years mad at her for treating me that way. If
Speaker 1: we had only talked sooner, tried to bridge that gap
Speaker 1: between us, than maybe, just maybe I could have saved
Speaker 1: everyone a lot of heartbreak in the long run. Maybe
Speaker 1: I could have saved my sister. Now I could have
Speaker 1: even saved my mother. She told me not to think
Speaker 1: of it that way, told me that the past was
Speaker 1: the past, and while she did regret hurting me, she
Speaker 1: didn't regret keeping me safe, and now, as she lay
Speaker 1: dying in front of me, she wanted me to know
Speaker 1: the truth before the end came. I wanted to take
Speaker 1: her from this place, take her somewhere else so she
Speaker 1: didn't have to die in the place that had ruined
Speaker 1: our family and consumed her soul, but she refused. She
Speaker 1: was stubborn. She still saw Linie's ghost within the house,
Speaker 1: and she didn't want to leave her alone. She also
Speaker 1: had her own private battle with the darkness at the
Speaker 1: heart of Lighthouse, one I had never known about, and
Speaker 1: she wanted to fight it until her dying breath, and
Speaker 1: perhaps even in death, she could keep it at bay
Speaker 1: for some one else. I loved my mother more in
Speaker 1: that moment than I ever had before. It radiated off
Speaker 1: of me, and I knew she could feel it. She
Speaker 1: looked alive again, full of life and ready to face
Speaker 1: the world, but that soon more off and she grew
Speaker 1: weak again. She kissed my hand and told me she
Speaker 1: needed to rest. She was tired, but she asked me
Speaker 1: to come back later. I didn't want to leave her side,
Speaker 1: especially after everything she revealed. Sarah came into the room,
Speaker 1: declaring that it was time for my mother's medication. She
Speaker 1: escorted me out so she could do her job, and
Speaker 1: thus I was left alone in the hallways of lighthouse
Speaker 1: yet again. The rest of the evening was fairly uneventful.
Speaker 1: Over dinner, Sarah continued to fill me in on my
Speaker 1: mother's condition. I was polite, engaging in the small talk
Speaker 1: to make conversation with the woman who had taken care
Speaker 1: of my mother over the last few months, but I
Speaker 1: wasn't invested in what she had to say. I was
Speaker 1: too busy thinking about my mother and her revelations. I
Speaker 1: went to see her again that evening, but she was
Speaker 1: still too weak to talk again. With nothing else to do,
Speaker 1: I decided to turn in for the night. I felt
Speaker 1: strange to be back in my old room yet again,
Speaker 1: but thankfully I managed to fall asleep fairly quickly. I
Speaker 1: awoke in the middle of the night to a light
Speaker 1: filling my room. I didn't have to open my eyes
Speaker 1: to know what it was that sleep beacon of the
Speaker 1: lighthouse shining bright once again. Last time I felt it
Speaker 1: call out to me, but this time I felt like
Speaker 1: something was wrong. An uneasy feeling sat on my chest
Speaker 1: and it worried me. I sat up, looking around for
Speaker 1: any sign of trouble, but found nothing. My ears perked
Speaker 1: up as I heard some sort of mournful cry. My
Speaker 1: younger self would have just thrown the blanket over my head,
Speaker 1: wishing the night away, But now, as a grown woman
Speaker 1: who had seen and had enough of what the house
Speaker 1: had to offer, I wasn't going to back down. I
Speaker 1: got up from the bed, throwing on a pair of slippers,
Speaker 1: and opened my door. The hallway was dark and quiet,
Speaker 1: the only light coming from the phantom lighthouse behind me.
Speaker 1: There was nothing in sight here either, but I did
Speaker 1: notice that the door to my mother's room was ajar.
Speaker 1: I heard a gentle sob again and realized it was
Speaker 1: coming from that direction. I sprinted down the hall toward
Speaker 1: her room and threw open the door. My mother's room
Speaker 1: was dark, almost too dark. She laid still in her bed,
Speaker 1: her eyes wide open, as if fixated on the ceiling.
Speaker 1: Another cry emanated from her throat, and I thought she
Speaker 1: might be dreaming. But as my eyes adjusted to the
Speaker 1: blackness of the room, I could see that we were
Speaker 1: not alone. It blended in at first, but now I
Speaker 1: could see the different shades of darkness hovering over my mother.
Speaker 1: It was the shadowy thing. I watched as it bulged
Speaker 1: from the wall behind her bed, stretching it to unheard
Speaker 1: of proportions. As it disengaged itself from it, It made
Speaker 1: a sickening sound as it did so, the wall snapping
Speaker 1: back into place like an elastic band. It's nebulous shapes
Speaker 1: straddled her, dark extensions of itself acting as arms and legs,
Speaker 1: holding her down. Her already fragile body couldn't do much
Speaker 1: to struggle against it. It leaned in close the place
Speaker 1: where its mouth should have been, trying to draw in
Speaker 1: her final breaths. Her body seized beneath it. I ran
Speaker 1: to her side and tried to push it off, anger
Speaker 1: rising inside me, but my hands went right through it.
Speaker 1: It looked in my direction and one of its limbs
Speaker 1: lashed out at me, striking me in the chest, knocking
Speaker 1: me to the floor. I tried to regain my footing,
Speaker 1: but it held me down. It turned back to my
Speaker 1: mother and sucked in again, as if to take what
Speaker 1: little life she had left in her Again, her body seized,
Speaker 1: convulsive under its spell. I struggled to get up, but
Speaker 1: its strength was too much for me to fight against.
Speaker 1: I tried and I tried, but I could do nothing
Speaker 1: but watch, and that's exactly what it wanted me to do,
Speaker 1: to watch as it took my mother from me, just
Speaker 1: as it had taken the rest of my family. The
Speaker 1: shadowy thing was enjoying this. As she drifted away towards
Speaker 1: her final sleep. My mother managed to look at me
Speaker 1: and show one last feat of strength to say three
Speaker 1: small words, I love you. This enraged the shadowy thing
Speaker 1: as it went in again, covering her face completely, pulling
Speaker 1: the last breath from her chest. Her body spasm for
Speaker 1: only a moment, her back arching upwards before dropping back
Speaker 1: to the bed. She was gone. Sated and satisfied, the
Speaker 1: shadow let go of her and turned back to me.
Speaker 1: I still struggled beneath its limbs, the pressure pushing down
Speaker 1: on me. There was no clear face to see within
Speaker 1: its darkness, but there was an impression of something there,
Speaker 1: some sentience that knew exactly what it was doing. If
Speaker 1: I didn't know any better, I would say it was
Speaker 1: smiling at me with spring voices filled my ears, becoming
Speaker 1: so loud that they were deafening within the small confines
Speaker 1: of the room. The shadow thrived off of them, growing
Speaker 1: larger by the second a creature of mighty proportions. It
Speaker 1: coiled more limbs around my body, squeezing the air from
Speaker 1: my lungs, toying with me. The nebulous shape where its
Speaker 1: face should have been continued to smile as it came
Speaker 1: for me. Right before everything went black. Lighthouse were returned
Speaker 1: after a word from our sponsors, and now Lighthouse continues.
Speaker 1: The next thing I remembered, it was the next morning,
Speaker 1: and I was in a place I didn't expect. I
Speaker 1: was in the lighthouse, not in the small apartment I
Speaker 1: had seen during my previous visit, but outside on the
Speaker 1: balcony area that surrounded the window panes where the beacon sat.
Speaker 1: I had no recollection of how I got there or
Speaker 1: why I was even there, and that scared me. As
Speaker 1: the sun rose over the ocean, I tried to piece
Speaker 1: together what had happened the day before, my mother confiding
Speaker 1: in me being awakened in the night by the light,
Speaker 1: and the shadowy thing taking the last of my mother's life.
Speaker 1: My mother was dead, another victim of Lighthouse's darkness. I
Speaker 1: stood my legs wobbily and leaned against the balcony's railing
Speaker 1: as I looked out over the ocean. I remembered, this
Speaker 1: is where my sister had died, where she had thrown
Speaker 1: herself to her death on the rocks below. A shudder
Speaker 1: ran through me. Not wanting to think about that, I
Speaker 1: turned to leave to find my way back down. When
Speaker 1: I caught my reflection in the glass. I looked lost, broken, even,
Speaker 1: but somehow younger. A strand of hair dangled in front
Speaker 1: of my face, and I went to move it away,
Speaker 1: when I realized my reflection did not follow suit. Instead,
Speaker 1: it just stood there, staring at me. It dawned on
Speaker 1: me then that this was not my reflection. It was Lini.
Speaker 1: Lini's ghost watched me from within the lighthouse, standing guard
Speaker 1: next to the beacon. She watched me as I found
Speaker 1: the doorway back inside and went to her. Lenie. I asked,
Speaker 1: hoping for some kind of response, Lenie, why am I here?
Speaker 1: She smiled sadly at me, still clinging onto that teddy bear.
Speaker 1: I didn't say a word. She merely continued to stare,
Speaker 1: our eyes locked together. Eventually, I sat, unable to stand
Speaker 1: any longer, but not wanting to leave her. She may
Speaker 1: have been gone, but at least right now, in some way,
Speaker 1: we were able to enjoy each other's company, a bright
Speaker 1: spot in a long line of terrible ones. I don't
Speaker 1: know how long we stood like that, simply watching each other,
Speaker 1: waiting for the other to move. The sun moved across
Speaker 1: the sky, and when it sat overhead, Leonie began to
Speaker 1: slowly fade. The fainter she grew, the more sad she became,
Speaker 1: as if there was something she wanted to do but
Speaker 1: was unable to. Just before she faded from view completely,
Speaker 1: she lifted her free hand and pointed toward a cabinet
Speaker 1: beneath the beacon itself. It was latch closed, but as
Speaker 1: she faded away, I opened it. Inside was the old
Speaker 1: real to real player we had found in the dark
Speaker 1: room when we were younger. Sitting on top of it
Speaker 1: was a book of matches, a single match taken from inside.
Speaker 1: But of more interest was the circular object wrapped in
Speaker 1: a cloth sitting next to it. I removed it from
Speaker 1: its packaging and found it to be a metal canister,
Speaker 1: when containing a recording written in Leni's handwriting on a
Speaker 1: piece of tape was a single word goodbye. I left
Speaker 1: the lighthouse, real to reel and canister in hand, slowly
Speaker 1: making my way through the living quarters, down the winding staircase,
Speaker 1: and into the clearing. I went back to the house
Speaker 1: to find Sarah leaning over my mother, tears in her eyes.
Speaker 1: She apologized for my loss and told me if I wanted,
Speaker 1: she would begin to make arrangements for her instead. I
Speaker 1: thanked her for all her hard work these past few months,
Speaker 1: but that she needed to leave immediately. I didn't want
Speaker 1: Lighthouse to take a hold of her too. She left,
Speaker 1: and I sat with my mother's corpse, thinking back on
Speaker 1: the previous evening. Lighthouse had been fed. It's hunger sated
Speaker 1: for now, but I knew it was only a matter
Speaker 1: of time before it needed to claim another soul. But
Speaker 1: this time things would be different. This time, the only
Speaker 1: thing left for it was me. With my mother gone,
Speaker 1: I was now the sole owner of Lighthouse. It's fate
Speaker 1: was mine and mine alone to decide. A stronger woman
Speaker 1: would have had it torn down, leveling the land, making
Speaker 1: sure nothing was built there ever again. But not me.
Speaker 1: I prove vindictive. Over the years, Lighthouse had taken so
Speaker 1: much from me, had ruined my family and our life.
Speaker 1: It was time for me to pay that back in kind.
Speaker 1: I was content to make it suffer, just as it
Speaker 1: had done to for so long. I was going to
Speaker 1: walk out of Lighthouse later that day and leave it
Speaker 1: to rot. No more would a living soul occupy its halls,
Speaker 1: giving it a chance to prey on them. Instead, it
Speaker 1: would sit empty and alone on the bluff, forgotten and suffering.
Speaker 1: As long as I had life to live, I meant
Speaker 1: to leave Lighthouse alone to wither away and die. And
Speaker 1: for almost twenty years, that is exactly what I did.
Speaker 1: And then the Man in the Hat came back for me.
Speaker 1: Lighthouse is a production of I Heart Radio and Bamford Productions.
Speaker 1: Chapter eight featured the voice of Ali Trash, written and
Speaker 1: directed by Jeff Heimbug Audio Engineering, an original musical score
Speaker 1: by Corey Celeste. Production assistance by Alex Gona. Executive produced
Speaker 1: by Holly Fry. Questions comments, you can reach us at
Speaker 1: The Man in the Hat is Watching at gmail dot com.
Speaker 1: Thank you for listening.