The Last Lightkeeper - Follow SN on All Platforms
The lighthouse stood alone on the edge of the world, its beam cutting through the storm like a blade. Elias had kept the light burning for forty years, long after the ships stopped needing it. Satellites and GPS had made his job obsolete, but the town kept him on—out of nostalgia, or pity, he wasn’t sure. Then, one winter night, a knock came at his door. A woman stood there, drenched, her eyes wide with fear. "They’re coming," she whispered. Elias frowned. "Who?" "The ones who don’t belong." She pointed to the sea. "Out there." He peered into the storm. At first, nothing. Then—movement. Shadows in the waves, too tall, too still. Shapes that flickered like bad film. The lighthouse beam swept over them. They vanished. The woman grabbed his arm. "The light holds them back. But it’s fading." Elias looked at the ancient bulb, its glow weaker each year. He understood now why he’d really stayed. The storm howled. The shadows returned. Closer. ...