Speaker 1: Lighthouse is a production of I Heart Radio and Bamford Productions.
Speaker 1: The light from the beacon is blinding tonight. It's been
Speaker 1: glowing for hours, steadily getting brighter, and I know that
Speaker 1: means my time is finally come. The darkness means to
Speaker 1: finish this. For most of my life, I've been plagued
Speaker 1: by the darkness that lives here. It could be argued
Speaker 1: that I was a victim of circumstance, doomed to face
Speaker 1: the horrors within because of my family's history with the house,
Speaker 1: born and built of their money, their sweat, their blood.
Speaker 1: Has sometimes occurred to me that perhaps the house had
Speaker 1: trapped the holliest family in a cycle, one that allowed
Speaker 1: them moments of hope of getting away until they were
Speaker 1: forced back into its grasp, so it could continue to
Speaker 1: feed on their suffering until it stripped them defenseless before
Speaker 1: ending them. Certainly felt that way for us, But truth
Speaker 1: be told, I felt that it didn't care who it
Speaker 1: fed on, just as long as it continued to feed,
Speaker 1: sustaining itself over and over again, presumably until the end
Speaker 1: of time. Did a toy with us to make its
Speaker 1: meal taste better? Did it enjoy our suffering? Or was
Speaker 1: it more mindless than that, just eating away until it
Speaker 1: was ready to burst, lying and wait until it's hunger
Speaker 1: reared its ugly head again at the end of the day.
Speaker 1: Whatever its reasons, it didn't matter. It just needed to stop.
Speaker 1: It tortured me while I lived here, and then followed
Speaker 1: me beyond. No matter what I did or how far
Speaker 1: away I ran, it always managed to catch up to me.
Speaker 1: Over the years, it managed to take everything from me,
Speaker 1: my father, my mother, my sister, and now my own family.
Speaker 1: But I've had enough. I'm going to finish what my
Speaker 1: sister started and do what no one else has managed
Speaker 1: to do. And all the houses long storied past, It's
Speaker 1: time to fight back. It's time for this to end.
Speaker 1: It's time for Lighthouse to die. Lighthouse, Chapter ten. When
Speaker 1: my mother died and I left the house to rot,
Speaker 1: everything went according to plan for a long time. I
Speaker 1: went home, I hugged my husband and my son, and
Speaker 1: life went on. As much as I wanted to, I
Speaker 1: couldn't bring myself to listen to Lini's goodbye. Hearing her
Speaker 1: suicide note in her own words felt like too much,
Speaker 1: And with the house locked up and abandoned, I didn't
Speaker 1: think I needed to, so the canister containing her final manifesto,
Speaker 1: along with the box of things she left me, like
Speaker 1: her teddy bear, sat in my closet unheard. If I
Speaker 1: had been braver listened to it, sooner, one of what
Speaker 1: happened after would have come to pass. I was too stubborn,
Speaker 1: too afraid to listen. Instead, much like the house, I
Speaker 1: let it sit and rock until I lost My son.
Speaker 1: Kevin had grown up and made us proud. He was
Speaker 1: a wonderful young man and even went off to start
Speaker 1: a family of his own. His wife, Meredith was lovely,
Speaker 1: and my grandson Ben was our I'd enjoy. We didn't
Speaker 1: get to see them much as they moved to the
Speaker 1: West Coast, but when we did, my husband Chris and
Speaker 1: I spoiled Ben and gave him the world. They came
Speaker 1: to visit us last year, their first visit in a
Speaker 1: few months. Ben had just turned three, and we went
Speaker 1: out to dinner for his birthday. The meal was delightful.
Speaker 1: After we all piled into the car for the drive home,
Speaker 1: Chris drove and Kevin sat in the front up with him,
Speaker 1: while myself, Meredith and Ben sat in the back. We laughed,
Speaker 1: sang songs, together, and we're having a wonderful time until
Speaker 1: we were wrapped around a telephone pole. It happened too
Speaker 1: quickly at the time, but looking back later on, I
Speaker 1: can see every single detail in slow motion. Chris didn't
Speaker 1: see the man in the intersection until it was too late.
Speaker 1: He came out of nowhere, and Chris swerved at the
Speaker 1: last moment, avoiding a collision with the man, but not
Speaker 1: with the pole. We hit it going far too fast,
Speaker 1: and my world changed in a second by some small miracle.
Speaker 1: Ben was bruised and scared, but otherwise all right. Meredith
Speaker 1: wasn't as lucky. She spent two weeks in the I
Speaker 1: c U, where it was touch and go for a while.
Speaker 1: Chris's airbag sustained most of his damage, but his back
Speaker 1: would never be the same. But Kevin. They found Kevin
Speaker 1: a few yards from the car. He was thrown through
Speaker 1: the windshield. No one seemed to question the fact that
Speaker 1: his seatbelt was on and secure. They just told us
Speaker 1: that these things happened sometimes. As for the man in
Speaker 1: the intersection, he was gone. The police thought maybe he
Speaker 1: got scared and took off, not wanting to stick around
Speaker 1: for the aftermath of his wrongdoing. He was walking through
Speaker 1: an intersection illegally after all, but playing it all back
Speaker 1: in my mind over and over again, I knew the truth.
Speaker 1: I saw the man in the intersection before we swerved
Speaker 1: to avoid hitting him. I saw the way he looked
Speaker 1: right at me and smiled. I saw him tip his
Speaker 1: hat as he watched us crash. I saw him, and
Speaker 1: he saw me. The man in the intersection was Alexander
Speaker 1: blythe a man in the hat. I had not seen
Speaker 1: him since that night in the lighthouse where I saw
Speaker 1: a vision of his death all those years ago. I thought,
Speaker 1: perhaps now that I knew his secret, his death, he
Speaker 1: would be gone forever. I was wrong. I didn't know
Speaker 1: why he appeared now after so long. In the intervening
Speaker 1: years after my mother's death, I finally broke down and
Speaker 1: told Chris about the house and all I had been through.
Speaker 1: He didn't know how to take it, but promised to
Speaker 1: be there for me if I ever needed him. That
Speaker 1: was a lie, though. Days after the accident, I told
Speaker 1: Chris who the man in the intersection was, and he
Speaker 1: thought I was being irrational, mad with grief. He called
Speaker 1: it feeling guilty over the death of our son and
Speaker 1: looking for an explanation, and where there was none to
Speaker 1: be had, my brain just connected the dots. He brought
Speaker 1: up my past, when I was taken to all those doctors,
Speaker 1: when I saw things that weren't there. He was sure
Speaker 1: that was it my mind trying to make sense of
Speaker 1: a senseless situation. He didn't have to say it out loud,
Speaker 1: but I know what he was thinking. My husband thought
Speaker 1: I was crazy, but I knew the truth why the
Speaker 1: man in the hat had come back. Because no matter
Speaker 1: how far you run, or how over you think things,
Speaker 1: maybe Lighthouse will never let you go, not until it
Speaker 1: gets what it wants. And after all this time, all
Speaker 1: these years, it still wanted one thing me. The way
Speaker 1: I saw it, it wasn't going to stop until it
Speaker 1: got me. I'm sure the darkness could have easily picked
Speaker 1: me off anywhere in the world if it really wanted to.
Speaker 1: But that wouldn't do, would it. It needed me home,
Speaker 1: back at Lighthouse, and it would do everything it could
Speaker 1: to get me to return, everything including destroying my family.
Speaker 1: It had already killed the family I was born into,
Speaker 1: and now it was coming for the one I had made.
Speaker 1: This car accident, the loss of Kevin. It was a message,
Speaker 1: and it wouldn't stop until I obeyed. The crash drove
Speaker 1: me to break down and finally listened to Leni's message.
Speaker 1: I clutched the Teddy Bear as it played. The recording
Speaker 1: warped and bent, but I heard her. After all these years,
Speaker 1: I heard what she had to say. On the night
Speaker 1: of her death. Learning that she did not kill herself
Speaker 1: as everyone thought showed me that this was not over,
Speaker 1: that it would never be over until I stopped it.
Speaker 1: I left Chris a week to Kevin's funeral. It broke
Speaker 1: my heart to push him away, but I had no choice.
Speaker 1: I didn't want to lose him, or Ben or even Meredith.
Speaker 1: If I had stayed, I would have lost them all.
Speaker 1: Lighthouse would see to that. I couldn't stand to let
Speaker 1: anyone else get hurt, so I left. I left a
Speaker 1: note telling them not to look for me, that this
Speaker 1: was something I had to deal with on my own.
Speaker 1: I told Chris. I knew he didn't understand, that he
Speaker 1: couldn't I didn't expect him to, but this needed to
Speaker 1: be done, and that one day I hoped to come
Speaker 1: back to him. I knew that was a lie. There
Speaker 1: was no coming back, not with what I had planned.
Speaker 1: It took me two days to make it back to lighthouse.
Speaker 1: I traveled by buses and taxis, using only cash, not
Speaker 1: wanting Chris to find out where I had gone. Three
Speaker 1: times on my journey I came across the man in
Speaker 1: the hat. He looked sad, but still smiled at me,
Speaker 1: nodding as if please with my decision to return home.
Speaker 1: I hated him for that. I hitchhiked on the final
Speaker 1: leg and had the driver dropped me off a mile
Speaker 1: away from the house so to not arouse suspicion. I
Speaker 1: didn't mind walking the rest of the way. It helped
Speaker 1: clear my head and mentally prepare myself further to be back.
Speaker 1: The entry gates were locked tight when I arrived, decorated
Speaker 1: by an old keep out sign that had been placed
Speaker 1: there under my direction years ago. Despite the sign and
Speaker 1: the locked entry, I was sure that intrepid explorers of
Speaker 1: abandoned places had been here over the years. I could
Speaker 1: see the house as I walked down the driveway. It
Speaker 1: was the same as it had always been, large and foreboding,
Speaker 1: but now with more rot and deterioration, it still stood, unfortunately,
Speaker 1: but it was clearly neglected. It was falling apart, deserted
Speaker 1: for years. Paint per old windows were broken, and there
Speaker 1: was even graffiti strewn across one side. It made me
Speaker 1: happy to see it in such a state. The inside
Speaker 1: was just as bad as out. Wayward teenagers had obviously
Speaker 1: been here amongst other transients, partying hard and leaving their mark,
Speaker 1: and the house was in shambles. Colorful drawings and language
Speaker 1: decorated the walls, Furniture was broken, and an awful smell
Speaker 1: permeated from somewhere deep within. I smiled. Despite this one
Speaker 1: a year history of neglect and abuse that Lighthouse had suffered,
Speaker 1: I still felt that it wasn't enough. I still wanted
Speaker 1: it to suffer. My plan originally was to arrive, do
Speaker 1: what needed to be done, and be finished with it.
Speaker 1: But now I wanted more. I wanted to extend that
Speaker 1: pain it went through. I wanted it to feel what
Speaker 1: I had felt. My plan of all in my head.
Speaker 1: What if I stayed for a bit, What if I
Speaker 1: made it think it had finally gotten to me, driven
Speaker 1: me mad, and I had returned to Lighthouse to live
Speaker 1: out my final days. What if I let it think
Speaker 1: it had won, had finally broken me? That way when
Speaker 1: I struck back, it would not suspect a thing dangerous. Yes, stupid, absolutely,
Speaker 1: but with what I planned on doing anyway, there was
Speaker 1: no other option. And when the darkness thought it had
Speaker 1: me right where it wanted me, I would burn it
Speaker 1: to the ground. Lighthouse will return. After these messages, and
Speaker 1: now back to Lighthouse. I have been back at Lighthouse
Speaker 1: for six months now. I've been living with no power,
Speaker 1: no water, no means of communication with the outside world.
Speaker 1: I've got nothing but my own wits and the ghosts
Speaker 1: to keep me company, and books, plenty of books. Despite
Speaker 1: the years of neglect to the house, the library was
Speaker 1: in surprisingly good condition. I spend my days in other worlds,
Speaker 1: fictional ones, and rediscovered old favorites along with some new classics.
Speaker 1: I made use of the reading nooks throughout the house,
Speaker 1: hiding away to immerse myself in the books. If not
Speaker 1: for being in Lighthouse, it would have been perfect. As expected.
Speaker 1: Rumors began to spread throughout the town. How could they not,
Speaker 1: The once long abandoned house was showing signs of life again.
Speaker 1: Candles were seen to be lit at night, Shadowy figures
Speaker 1: roam the halls, sightings of an eccentric old woman were reported.
Speaker 1: The house was already the source of urban legends, but
Speaker 1: my sporadic appearances only added fuel to that fire. I
Speaker 1: didn't mind let them talk. Rumors only helped my case,
Speaker 1: especially after a few enterprising teenagers paid me a visit
Speaker 1: to see if the stories were drew. A few rattling
Speaker 1: chains and scary noises later, I became a ghost of
Speaker 1: sorts myself. I didn't get any more visitors after that,
Speaker 1: ones that were alive anyway. The ghosts of Lighthouse were
Speaker 1: always around, keeping an eye on me, and it was
Speaker 1: already perfectly clear what they wanted. But like a greedy child,
Speaker 1: they wanted to see me suffer to ripen their meal
Speaker 1: until the darkness was ready to strike. I played my part.
Speaker 1: When the thing in the tree appeared, its neck straining
Speaker 1: against the ropes and its eyes bulging from beneath the sack,
Speaker 1: I screamed. When the servants stalked from room to roam,
Speaker 1: the rust colored stain forming on his back, I ran
Speaker 1: from him. When the maid's eyes ran red as she
Speaker 1: approached me, I covered my own eyes and counted to five.
Speaker 1: Despite the show I made of it inside, I was
Speaker 1: no longer afraid of them. What was the point of
Speaker 1: being afraid. If I had nothing left to lose, if
Speaker 1: I didn't even fear the end of my own life,
Speaker 1: I could never know that though, where all would be
Speaker 1: for not. During these six long months, I wandered the house.
Speaker 1: I visited rooms I hadn't seen years. I spent time
Speaker 1: reacquainting myself with its nooks and crannies, and most of all,
Speaker 1: made mental notes of every square inch of it, including
Speaker 1: the lighthouse. The sea air did not help its already
Speaker 1: crumbling state, but that was to be expected, considering how
Speaker 1: close to the edge of the bluff it was. The walls,
Speaker 1: once strong and sturdy, were now falling to pieces. The
Speaker 1: windows along the sides were now joined by large gaping
Speaker 1: holes where the stone had fallen away. It's a wonder
Speaker 1: it was still standing to begin with, but somehow, perhaps
Speaker 1: through sheer stubbornness, it did it's time. When I made
Speaker 1: the trek to its top, there were no visions of
Speaker 1: the past, no big revelations or hidden recordings, just a
Speaker 1: spectacular view of the Atlantic, marred only by the presence
Speaker 1: of the house itself. I often found myself in a
Speaker 1: room I never spent much time, and as a kid
Speaker 1: my father's old study. The once vibrant room was in
Speaker 1: shambles these days. However, the fire place still worked just fine,
Speaker 1: and his old easy chair was quite comfortable, so it
Speaker 1: made for the perfect area to sit unbothered for a bit.
Speaker 1: I read there a lot, mostly the fictional tales that
Speaker 1: stock the library, but I also read up on local
Speaker 1: history of the area. The library had plenty of books
Speaker 1: of this nature, and I learned quite a bit about
Speaker 1: the town and its surrounding areas, including my family history.
Speaker 1: Tuck deep within the stacks was a handwritten tone by
Speaker 1: a distant relative, one that tracked the Hollest family and
Speaker 1: its fortunes. Reading it, the question that still lingered in
Speaker 1: my mind was about the construction of the house itself.
Speaker 1: It made sense for the lighthouse to be on the bluff,
Speaker 1: as it was a perfect vantage point for the ocean.
Speaker 1: But as for the house, why why did the Hollest
Speaker 1: family choose here? Why did my family think that this
Speaker 1: was the perfect location for their stately manner? What attracted
Speaker 1: them to it? The Hollies family was already rich before
Speaker 1: lighthouse was built, and they used their vast fortune to
Speaker 1: buy the land. My great great grandfather James Hollis, while
Speaker 1: a brilliant business man, apparently had a bit of a
Speaker 1: mean streak within him. He was a miserable bastard. It
Speaker 1: was heavily implied that he was somewhat of a sadist.
Speaker 1: The Hollis family was engrossed with scandal since coming to
Speaker 1: the area. It seemed. News clippings told of affairs, money launderings,
Speaker 1: and servant girls that had gone missing over the years
Speaker 1: while working at lighthouse. While James Hollis was never directly
Speaker 1: connected to any of them, the timing was suspicious. My
Speaker 1: great great grandfather was no saint, but he clearly did
Speaker 1: not bring the darkness with him. Perhaps it called out
Speaker 1: to him. It sendsed him out in the world and
Speaker 1: beckoned him like a beacon in the night, much like
Speaker 1: the lighthouse itself. And once he set foot on the land,
Speaker 1: the seed was planted, and the darkness would have him.
Speaker 1: It was pure conjecture, of course, but in its own
Speaker 1: way made sense. It was while I was engrossed with
Speaker 1: these thoughts one evening that I received a visitor I
Speaker 1: did not expect. I was standing in front of the fireplace,
Speaker 1: looking into my father's painted eyes, lost in thought, When
Speaker 1: I heard a noise behind me, I assumed I was
Speaker 1: about to come face to face with one of the
Speaker 1: many ghosts of the house I've encountered over the years.
Speaker 1: But when I turned, I found someone else entirely sitting
Speaker 1: in the easy chair. My father. Hello, Terra, he said,
Speaker 1: causing me to scream, my first legitimate scream since returning home.
Speaker 1: Not only had I not seen my father since the
Speaker 1: night he died, but this was also the first time
Speaker 1: one of the ghosts of Lighthouse spoke. It caught me
Speaker 1: so off guard that I stump mold backward into the fireplace,
Speaker 1: catching myself only at the last second before I fell. Thankfully,
Speaker 1: he appeared before me, as he had in life and
Speaker 1: not in his final moments. The thought of seeing him
Speaker 1: with a knife plunged into the back of his head
Speaker 1: made me sick to my stomach, and it was not
Speaker 1: something I could handle. I thought I was prepared for
Speaker 1: everything the darkness could throw at me, but the appearance
Speaker 1: of my father was an unexpected wrinkle, one that bent
Speaker 1: my resolve. However, I steeled myself against the mantel, ready
Speaker 1: to face it. I've missed you, he said, a drink
Speaker 1: suddenly appearing in his hand. He took a sip, licking
Speaker 1: his ghostly lips before setting it down on the table
Speaker 1: next to him. Well what do you want, I asked,
Speaker 1: trying to hide the tremble in my voice. This house,
Speaker 1: it really gets to you. That's why after my sister died,
Speaker 1: I knew I had to leave as soon as I could.
Speaker 1: But it has ways of bringing us back, doesn't it.
Speaker 1: He smiled, one that was not unlike the man in
Speaker 1: the hat. What do you want? I asked again, more forcefully,
Speaker 1: this time not hiding the anger in my voice. It's
Speaker 1: not what I want. It's what it wants, what it
Speaker 1: always wanted. He stood from his chair and I fell backwards, startled.
Speaker 1: He stood over me, looking down at his little girl,
Speaker 1: now a grown woman that he had never got to
Speaker 1: see grow up. I'm a lost cause, he said, as
Speaker 1: he rubbed the scar on his ghostly palm. No hope
Speaker 1: from me. It took me long before we even came back.
Speaker 1: Please don't, I muttered, as he leaned down, getting closer.
Speaker 1: Please just go away. I know what you're trying to do.
Speaker 1: Tera I froze, thinking that my plan was found out,
Speaker 1: my chances for survival over. But then he smiled at me.
Speaker 1: This one was kinder, warmer than before. His hand caressed
Speaker 1: my cheek, and though I couldn't feel it, a shiver
Speaker 1: ran through me. I won't stop you, he said. You're
Speaker 1: a brave girl, much stronger than I ever was. He stood,
Speaker 1: walking back to his easy chair before he sank down
Speaker 1: into it again. Do what I couldn't save your mother
Speaker 1: and sister for me, he continued, taking one final drink
Speaker 1: from the glass. I'm sorry, he whispered as he faded away.
Speaker 1: I cried myself to sleep that night. The Darkness hadn't
Speaker 1: sent my father, but instead he came of his own
Speaker 1: accord and an act of redemption, not for himself but
Speaker 1: for me. After that night, I knew it was all
Speaker 1: coming to a head. He must have sensed it and
Speaker 1: appeared to give me the final push I needed to
Speaker 1: ready myself. But he wasn't the only one herd at work.
Speaker 1: The Darkness was ever present during these last few days.
Speaker 1: It stalked me from a distance, its form bulging from
Speaker 1: the walls, floors, and ceilings as it followed my every move.
Speaker 1: At night, it stood over me, its shimmering blackness, unmoving
Speaker 1: as it savored every moment of my suffering. Its suffering
Speaker 1: would be worse. Lighthouse will return after a word from
Speaker 1: our sponsors, And now lighthouse continues. So now here I am,
Speaker 1: after all these years recording my story. Will I think
Speaker 1: anyone will ever hear this? No, not likely. I'll perish
Speaker 1: like everything else in the end. I'm surprised this old
Speaker 1: reel to reel even lasted this long, considering all it's
Speaker 1: been through. But getting it off my chest, hearing it
Speaker 1: in my own words for the first time, just getting
Speaker 1: it out there in the world makes me feel better,
Speaker 1: especially about what I'm about to do. You see, I
Speaker 1: learned something from Leny, especially from her goodbye. She wasn't
Speaker 1: wrong about what needed to be done, but she was
Speaker 1: wrong with how she went about it. It's not just
Speaker 1: the lighthouse that needs to burn, it's everything. In order
Speaker 1: for the fire to cleanse, to burn out the evil
Speaker 1: that lives here, the house needs to go too. Hell,
Speaker 1: the whole damn property needs to be raised. And with
Speaker 1: any luck, when it's all gone, we'll be free. Every
Speaker 1: spirit trapped in that house, every entity walking the grounds,
Speaker 1: and every bit of family I lost, all free, like
Speaker 1: a phoenix rising from the ashes. Hopefully a new story
Speaker 1: can be told here, one filled with good and light
Speaker 1: instead of darkness. But in order for that to happen,
Speaker 1: to give it a chance, it all needs to go.
Speaker 1: That's why I set fire to lighthouse a few minutes ago.
Speaker 1: What did you think I was just going to talk
Speaker 1: about it without doing it. I know how the darkness operates,
Speaker 1: and even the slightest hint of my plan it would
Speaker 1: have tried to stop me. So I told my story
Speaker 1: and let it listen, and before I wrapped it up,
Speaker 1: I snuck into the house and did it. It wasn't easy.
Speaker 1: I've spent the last day or so dousing the house
Speaker 1: in gasoline, slowly but deliberately, every single room, wall to
Speaker 1: wall to make sure it would all go. I didn't
Speaker 1: stop there either. The red oak out front, the porch,
Speaker 1: everything covered in gasoline. I know it doesn't last long.
Speaker 1: It would eventually dry out and become useless, but the
Speaker 1: cold winter weather kept it long enough for my plan
Speaker 1: to work. And just now, before coming back here, I
Speaker 1: set it a fire right where it started for us,
Speaker 1: to right where I thought it would hurt it the most.
Speaker 1: In the dark room here I stand on the balcony
Speaker 1: at the top of the lighthouse. Watching my old home burn,
Speaker 1: seeing it engulfed in flames is very emotionally satisfying for me.
Speaker 1: I can tell you that it's almost out of a dream,
Speaker 1: very happy, strange dream. But I know my job isn't done.
Speaker 1: There's still one thing left to burn, left to destroy
Speaker 1: before the darkness gets to me. Below me, those old
Speaker 1: wooden boxes that Leoni dragged into the lighthouse are still there,
Speaker 1: but this time covered in gasoline too, So is the
Speaker 1: apartment below. Even the beacon itself, its phantom light is
Speaker 1: shining bright, like a cry for help, as if it
Speaker 1: knows the fate that it's about to befall. The smell
Speaker 1: of smoke coming off the house almost chokes me, but
Speaker 1: I hold on, still, knowing that this last act is
Speaker 1: one of redemption. The match I hold in my hand
Speaker 1: is ready to strike, eager to set this structure ablaze,
Speaker 1: and its moment is finally here. I can see the
Speaker 1: shadowy thing coming from me now, darting out of the house,
Speaker 1: just like it did for Leni all those years ago.
Speaker 1: Do you hear its whispers? Do they sound pained? It's
Speaker 1: like music to my ears, like that music box we
Speaker 1: loved and then came to hate for what it represented.
Speaker 1: The Shadow isn't alone either. I can see all the
Speaker 1: others now too, joining it. The servant, the maid, the
Speaker 1: chattering little boy, the thing in the tree, all of them.
Speaker 1: They're coming for me. And as the Shadow rushes past them,
Speaker 1: it consumes them, drawing on their power, adding to its own,
Speaker 1: trying to get the strength it's so desperately needs to
Speaker 1: stop me. But this time I'm ready for it, ready
Speaker 1: for all of them, ready to strike back and take
Speaker 1: them down. There's a darkness that dwells in the center
Speaker 1: of the world, that seeks its way up through the
Speaker 1: ground and forces itself into our lives. But now it's
Speaker 1: time to force it back. I can hear the darkness
Speaker 1: below me crashing through the door at the bottom of
Speaker 1: the lighthouse, forcing its way up towards me through the
Speaker 1: crumbling structure. And yet still I wait, holding the match,
Speaker 1: wanting it to see me strike it as I bring
Speaker 1: the world down around it. I turned my back to
Speaker 1: the house, looking at the stairwell where I came from,
Speaker 1: and I'm not surprised by what I see. The man
Speaker 1: in the hat is there with me now watch, Only
Speaker 1: this time it's not like before, he's not the ghastly
Speaker 1: apparition that haunted my life. This time, he's only Alexander.
Speaker 1: Blythe he nods and his sad smile tells me he's
Speaker 1: ready for the end, just like me. I'm ready leaning
Speaker 1: I'm scared in these final moments. I'm more scared than
Speaker 1: I have ever been in my entire life. I close
Speaker 1: my eyes, but instead of wishing it all away, I
Speaker 1: wish for it to end once and for all one.
Speaker 1: I can hear the whispers now, the voices of a
Speaker 1: thousand doomed souls consumed by the darkness. All of them
Speaker 1: cry out at once, to their voices ring in my ear,
Speaker 1: louder and louder. As the darkness gets closer, I can
Speaker 1: hear its fury as it races towards me up the stairs.
Speaker 1: As I light the match against the wall three, I
Speaker 1: can feel something take my hand, as if to reassure
Speaker 1: me that it's going to be all right, and I
Speaker 1: pray that it's you, Lany. I hope that it is.
Speaker 1: I refuse to open my eyes to see because I'm
Speaker 1: afraid if I do, I will lose my nerve and
Speaker 1: all these will be for not for the darkness is here.
Speaker 1: I can hear its shadowy form snaking up the stairs
Speaker 1: around the beacon, ready to pounce and consume me, to
Speaker 1: finally take me as as prize, to devour my soul.
Speaker 1: But five it's too late. I already dropped the match
Speaker 1: to the puddle of gas at my feet, and my
Speaker 1: world suddenly turns into an explosion of heat and light.
Speaker 1: I can feel the intensity of the fire as strongly
Speaker 1: as I can hear the darkness scream. It burns and
Speaker 1: it hurts, and I can feel myself give way toward
Speaker 1: the darkness, not the one I have feared my entire life,
Speaker 1: but one with the warm embrace of death. It wraps
Speaker 1: its arms around me and takes me away, far away,
Speaker 1: to finally be rid of the shadow that has chased us.
Speaker 1: With my final moments, I opened my eyes to see
Speaker 1: the house engulfed in aimes lighthouse burning around me, in
Speaker 1: the darkness itself, raging in the firelight, a smile as
Speaker 1: it suffers. There's a darkness that dwells in the center
Speaker 1: of the world, and I killed it. I didn't leany
Speaker 1: I finished what you started. We're free. Goodbye. M Lighthouse
Speaker 1: is a production of I Heart Radio and Bamford Productions.
Speaker 1: Chapter ten featured the voices of Ali Trasher, Alyssa Rose,
Speaker 1: and Matthew Tyler. Voice written and directed by Jeff Heimbuck
Speaker 1: Audio engineering in 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.
Speaker 1: And in local news, a mysterious fire at a local landmark,
Speaker 1: Miranda Cole has the story. Miranda, thanks Jim. For years,
Speaker 1: the abandoned property on Lighthouse Point has intrigued locals, spawning
Speaker 1: scores of urban legends and ghost stories. Now we can
Speaker 1: add mysterious fire to that list, as one broke out
Speaker 1: over the weekend, a fire that engulfed much of the property,
Speaker 1: including the residential building and the lighthouse. It was first
Speaker 1: reported after midnight on Saturday, and as it grew out
Speaker 1: of control, local firefighters were aided by their colleagues from
Speaker 1: surrounding areas like Brick Point, Pleasant and Melancholy Falls to
Speaker 1: fight it. Thankfully, just before dawn it was contained. Fire
Speaker 1: Chief Gona had this to say, thanks to the valiant
Speaker 1: efforts of my team and our friends from neighboring towns,
Speaker 1: we were able to prevent a tragedy and stop the
Speaker 1: fire before it spread beyond Lighthouse Point. Despite the intensity
Speaker 1: and length of the blaze, we were miraculously able to
Speaker 1: save both buildings with minimal structural damage to both. We've
Speaker 1: all heard the rumors of someone living on the property
Speaker 1: of the past few months, and we did take that
Speaker 1: into consideration. While the cause of the fire is still
Speaker 1: under investigation, authorities did make a thorough sweep of the
Speaker 1: property after it was contained, and thankfully no casualties were reported.
Speaker 1: I'm not taking any questions at this time. The land
Speaker 1: is owned by Tara Hollis, but will soon pass into
Speaker 1: township domain due to zoning laws. Since she has been
Speaker 1: reported missing over six months ago. Town officials have already
Speaker 1: started discussions about whether to just condemn the area or
Speaker 1: repair both structures and open the property as a public park.
Speaker 1: More as it develops, but for now, I'm mirandical and
Speaker 1: this is Action six News