The Lighthouse of Brightshore

The Lighthouse

On the edge of a small coastal town, perched atop a cliff that overlooked the restless sea, was an old lighthouse that hadn't been used in years.

 The people of Brightshore had long ago abandoned it for a modern beacon farther down the coast, and the old lighthouse was left to the salt winds and gathering fog. But there were whispers about it—the kind of stories parents told their children to keep them from sneaking out at night, tales of strange lights flickering on stormy evenings and soft music drifting from the cliffside when no one was near.

In that very town lived a girl named Tessa. She was sixteen, clever, and always searching for something to do in the sleepy town of Brightshore. She had a habit of exploring the abandoned places others avoided, and the tales of the lighthouse intrigued her more than they frightened her.

One fog-heavy afternoon, as the sea winds howled, Tessa made up her mind to explore the lighthouse. She slipped on her worn raincoat, grabbed her flashlight, and set off up the narrow trail. The climb was steep, the kind that left her breathless by the time she reached the summit, but she was rewarded by the sight of the lighthouse looming in the mist.

 Up close, it was tall and weathered, covered in peeling white paint and rusted iron bars.

The door creaked open with an eerie wail when she pushed it.