The Lighthouse

The Lighthouse (Chapter 1)

Chapter 1. The Offer...

The lighthouse stood tall and solitary against the storm-battered coast, its unwavering beam slicing through the thick, swirling fog and the relentless darkness of night.

Perched on a rugged, wind-swept cliff, it served as a beacon of hope for ships navigating the treacherous waters below, where jagged rocks waited like open jaws. This place, remote and wild, was as untamed as the ocean itself—harsh, yet offering a strange comfort in its isolation.

For Aki, the lighthouse had become more than just a place of work. It was his refuge, a sanctuary where he could finally breathe in peace, far removed from the noise, chaos and cruelty of the world he had left behind. Life here had a quiet rhythm, and the isolation suited him. The solitude had become like an old friend, a trusted companion he felt completely at ease with.

At first glance, it was clear that Aki was no ordinary young man. His slight, almost fragile frame and graceful movements were far more delicate than those of a typical human male in their late teens. But what truly set him apart were the distinctive large, furry cat ears perched atop his head, and his long slender fur tail that swayed behind him.

Everything about him—his light step, his quiet alertness—hinted at an otherworldly agility and grace, a reminder that Aki, though he appeared fully human save for his cat-ears and tail, was something different.

For Aki was a Neko—a rare hybrid of human and feline.

In the bustling city where he had once lived, these traits had marked him, and those like him, as different.

Neko were a unique and often misunderstood race, sometimes referred to as demi-human, living among humans yet always a step outside their world.
They were mostly found working in large towns and cities, filling roles as servers, waiters, busboys, cleaners, or other more menial jobs.

Despite being of average intelligence, although slightly lower than that of humans, Neko were often dismissed as lesser beings, considered by many as second-class citizens. This perception, fueled by the fact Neko were not particularly tall, strong or assertive, made them easy targets for mistreatment and even easier to pass over for promotions.

Their petite stature, gentle nature, quiet demeanor, and lack of confidence, along with their ability to endure without complaint, only reinforced the cruel stereotypes, leaving them vulnerable to bullying, exploitation, and abuse.

There were no Neko large-business owners, no Neko in positions of power, politics, or influence.  Most relied on employment for their survival, and the jobs available to them were almost always in the service sector, usually at the lower end of the pay and conditions spectrum.

Neko communities were usually tucked away in forgotten districts of the city, places where humans rarely ventured unless they sought something illicit or seedy. These areas were often home to clandestine establishments catering to human clientele, where Neko workers were frequently exploited.

It was also where the more unsavory and cowardly elements of human society, usually emboldened by alcohol and the safety of numbers, would descend on drunken rampages, harassing the Neko residents, vandalizing their property, and inflicting their twisted cruelty—secure in the knowledge that the Neko would offer little to no resistance.
For some, it seemed to satisfy a darker need to assert dominance over a race they viewed as inferior, feeding their egos and reinforcing the cruel hierarchies that permeated the city.