June 16, 2020 • 30 mins
"This is my good-bye..."
Light House is a production of iHeartRadio and Bamfer Productions.
Chapter 9 features the voice of Paulina Logan
It was written and directed by Jeff Heimbuch, audio engineered and scored by Kori Celeste, assistant engineered by Alex Gona, and executive produced by Holly Frey
Questions? Comments? Email us at themaninthehatiswatching@gmail.com
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:02):
Lighthouse is a production of I Heart Radio and Bamford Productions.
Oh it's cold up here tonight. I guess it usually is,
being this high up off the ground overlooking the ocean,
especially in the dead of winter. Tonight is just especially cold.
(00:28):
Maybe that's just because I don't feel anything anymore, and
the biting wind up here is just biting enough for
me to actually feel something for once. Would that be something?
I spent the last years of my life just going
through the motions, pretending to be normal, staying away from
(00:49):
this place, when all I ever needed to feel again
was to come back up here. That's not how life works, though,
does it. We just try to do the best we can,
you know, I've tried to, but no matter what, something
can come along and ruin it for you. Just one
swipe and it's all taken away in an instant, your
(01:10):
life's path completely changed, for better or for worse, mostly
worse in this case. I've always tried to look on
the bright side of things, you know, try to find
the good in the bad and the okay in the
even worse. I've done that my entire life, sometimes to
my own detriment, but it helped for the most part.
(01:33):
I know what they say about me, I know what
they feel. I just I don't care. I know it's
an unconscious reaction past trauma. But every once in a while,
when the moments of pure clarity shine through, like now,
I can look back and reflect and say the hell
(01:54):
with it. It seems to work for me, so why not.
But it's not working for me anymore, is it. That's
why we're here, Why I'm up here saying this to
you right now on a cold winter's night, sitting at
the top of a goddamn lighthouse that's been abandoned for decades,
but still somehow lights it's beacon to signal that something
(02:15):
bad is going to happen, Like right now, even as
I am sitting up here alone, it's phantom beam is
rotating out over the ocean, over the house, the grounds,
through the snow, and back again, over and over. It
sure does look beautiful from up here, though. Oh that
(02:38):
snow stretching as far as the eye can see, falling
into the water, disappearing into the abyss, blanketing the house
as it floats to the ground. I just walked from
there less than an hour ago, and it's like you'd
never even know. It's coming down so hard it looks untouched. Now,
(02:59):
I guess it'll stay that way. Sorry, getting off topic,
getting ahead of myself. I do that when I'm nervous.
But you know that already, don't you. Let me try
and start this over again from the beginning. Hi, Tara,
(03:21):
this is your sister Leany, and this this is my
goodbye Lighthouse. Chapter nine. So much has happened over the
(04:13):
years that I am not even sure where to begin.
Looking back. There are major beats of the story that
you were present for, things that you did for me
that I am forever grateful for. But then there are
the other aspects that are hazy details that I confused
with other instances, and I'm not even sure what was
real and what wasn't. I guess I should start with this,
(04:35):
It's not your fault, Terra. I know that after I
do this, you are going to beat yourself up over it,
but I just need you to know this isn't your fault.
You did the best you could and helped me as
much as I could be. I guess it could be
argued that it was my own stubborn refusal that did this.
I should have left, I should have visited you in
(04:57):
your family. I should have gotten far far away from here,
but despite how much she has retreated into herself, I
could never leave our mother here alone. At the end
of the day, there's only one thing to blame for
all this. The house lighthouse ruined our lives. And even
though you're hundreds of miles away, I know you still
(05:21):
can feel it calling out to you. It's got a
siren's call, doesn't it. Over the years, I've come to
realize that this old lighthouse, despite not having been used
in years, still does exactly what it's job entailed. Except
it's not calling out to those who are lost in
the fog at sea, guiding their way so they can
find their way home. No, Instead, the lighthouse is a
(05:45):
beacon for darkness, calling it in from the far corners
of the earth, letting it know. That lighthouse was a
feeding ground on which they could stuff themselves full of
unsuspecting souls. Even before the house was built, and long
before the lighthouse, this land, the grounds on which it
currently stands, was considered cursed. I found a book in
(06:06):
our library, once hidden among the stacks and thousands of others,
that detailed stories and lore from New Jersey stuff that
was passed down from generation a generation, As these types
of stories often are, there was one in particular, marked
by dog eared pages and an ancient pencils circling it,
(06:27):
that was of interest. It told of a parcel of
land located on a bluff overlooking the ocean. The land
sat barren for years as ancient tribes refused to settle
on it. Despite its advantages, early colonizers to the area
saw it as an opportunity established a camp there. Not
(06:47):
only was it the perfect vantage point, but there were
also resources to be had and rumors of fresh water
running through the cliffs grounds. These settlers dug a well
on the bluff. Deeper and deeper they went, until miraculously
they did strike a vein of underground water. But despite
their good fortune, apparently they found something else in the
(07:09):
well too. A black cloud escaped from it, bursting into
the air, scaring them all. Bad luck befell them then,
and eventually the camp was abandoned and the well was
covered up. Does any of that sound familiar, Terra, because
it should. I mean, it's right there in stained glass
on our front door, the well, the black cloud, and
(07:32):
the lighthouse. I did some digging of my own, not physically,
of course, but at the library, the land that the
story spoke of. It's here, right where I'm standing, And
the well, after years spent covered up, was destroyed. But
what was built on that very same spot because of
(07:53):
its natural vantage point the lighthouse, And soon after the
lighthouse came a small home for the housekeeper, and then
eventually the Hollis family home, our home lighthouse. I wish
I had saved that book and put it aside for
you to see, because after that day I read that
(08:15):
the one time I saw it, I never saw the
book again. I searched that library top to bottom, each
in every shelf, but to no avail. Was it even real?
Did I just imagine the whole thing? Or was it
just the house playing tricks on me? Once I started
to learn its secrets. I believe that book had more
in there, maybe even something I could have used to
(08:37):
stop the darkness, But now that it's gone, we'll never
know for sure. I have some ideas, but nothing concrete.
I sure would have come in handy though, especially now
now that I have no choice. But I'm getting ahead
of myself again. Sorry, Tara, I should probably tell you
(08:59):
about the other stuff first, Like Abigail. Now, look before
you roll your eyes, because I know that is exactly
what you are doing right now. I need you to
understand something about her. I know you think she's been
a bad influence on me, and sure, in some ways
she was, but she's not all bad. She's actually kind
of well, I don't know if if nice is the
(09:21):
word for it, but helpful. You already know who she
really is. Madeleine hollis Dad's younger sister. What you don't
know is that she loved our father very much, so
when she started to talk to me, she thought calling
herself Abigail would endear herself to him. I guess she
(09:42):
was wrong, But as scary as she may have been
to you, sometimes she really was trying to help. She's
just a little girl forever stuck in that mindset because
her life was taken from her far too early. Maybe
that's the reason I sometimes act like a child. She
she and I both went through something tragic when we
were young, so we can relate on that level. Now. Granted,
(10:07):
she died and I didn't, so she had a little worse,
but you know what I mean, and she helped us
a lot, even without you realizing it. She's on our side,
I promise you. She just wasn't enough. Nothing is ever enough.
(10:28):
I saw that little boy on my way here, the
one with the chattering teeth. We didn't see him a
lot as kids, but I see him more now now
that I'm spending more time up here and not in
the dark room. I guess he's confined to the grounds
and not the house itself. That's weird, right, Like how
(10:48):
come some of them can go wherever they want, like Abigail,
and others are stuck to the one place. It doesn't
make any sense, but there has to be a reason
for it. Anyway I saw him, This weather is perfect
for him, his teeth just gnashing away in the cold.
I assume he died out here somewhere, froze to death
(11:11):
on the property, and is forever doomed to repeat that fate.
He followed me all the way out here, and the
way his body moves freaks me out. It's not natural.
It's all jerky and slow. But no matter how fast
I moved, he was still right behind me. Maybe he
(11:31):
just wants a friend. They don't all have to be bad,
do they? Some of them can be good, right, Like Abigail,
I keep avoiding saying what I really need to say,
and I'm sure that it is frustrating for you hearing
me babil on about nothing without getting to the reason
I'm here. I think I know how to stop all this, Terra,
(11:53):
and I mean really, stop it once and for all.
And I'm going to try. I really am. But m h,
if you're listening to this right now, if you're hearing this,
that means something went wrong. It means that I'm I'm gone.
(12:17):
Lighthouse will return after these messages and now back to Lighthouse.
Before I tell you my plan, I need to tell
you what I am thinking. How I got here, about
(12:40):
the time the shadowy thing came for me and failed,
not by much, but thankfully enough that I was able
to escape. The seed was planted. I remember, just before
you left for college. It was on a night I
couldn't sleep well almost nights, yes, but on this one
I was especially restless. I was thirsty and I went
(13:00):
to get a drink of water. It was late and
I didn't want to wake anyone, so I took a
candle instead of turning on any lights. It was dark
and the candle only illuminated so little of the world
around me, but it was enough to light my way.
It was quiet at first, but then I heard a
(13:23):
rumbling behind me. I turned to see, but of course
nothing was there. We were no strangers to the ghosts
of the house, and my hope was that it was
just Abigail checking up on me, making sure I was safe.
I was wrong, though, because the more I walked, the
more the rumbling echoed behind me. The hallway, for some reason,
(13:44):
started to feel impossibly long. I kept walking and walking,
and it kept stretching on forever. I wasn't making any progress,
it seemed. I began to run, afraid of what might
be coming next. When an unearthly sound caused me to
turn around. The shadowy thing was in the walls, bulging
its body outward as it came for me, stretching the
(14:06):
wood and plaster in unnatural proportions. It got closer and closer,
and I kept running, but it was like I was
running in place. I couldn't get away from it. It
jumped out of the wall and into the carpet, hot
on my heels, like a shark stucking through the water,
and then it was on me. I turned and it
came right at me, Tara. I turned to see, and
I stumbled backward, thinking that it was the end for me,
(14:28):
that the darkness was finally going to get me. I
held my hands in front of my face to block it,
a fruitless effort, of course, but it stopped. One second
it was there, and then the next it roared away,
running like a dog with its tail between its legs.
I had no idea what had happened. I thought maybe
it was just trying to scare me, toy with me.
(14:50):
But then I felt it. A bit of hot wax
dripped off the candle still in my hand onto my stomach.
It hurt only for a second, but it gave me
an idea. What if it was the candle, the one
that I held in my hand, holding it up in
a defensive measure. What if it was afraid of the flame? Silly,
I know, but that was the only thing I could
(15:12):
think of. I thought about that moment a lot over
the years. I should have told you about it. I
should have tested that theory out sooner. I should have
thought about it when the darkness took Dad before I
had well, you know, it was later on, after you
had left for good that I was able to actually
try it out. It was a little dangerous, I know
(15:34):
that now, but it had been gnawing away at me
for years, and I had to see. It wasn't even planned, honestly.
I was in the dining room and I saw that
made you know, the one, the woman with the bleeding eyes.
She was setting the table again before she noticed me,
a ghostly action that was never ending, since her phantom's
silverware never stayed in sight for long. I watched her
(15:57):
for a bit before she noticed me. When she did,
she stopped and stared. I stared right back. A flickering
caught my eye, and I saw that there were a
few candles lit on the table. I don't know why
it popped into my head then, but I grabbed the
candle labra that often sat in the center, armed with
not one, but three candles. I took a step toward her.
(16:20):
She didn't move. I took another, and still she stood there.
But on the third step, when I was within a
foot or so from her, she grimaced and took step back. Surprised,
I walked toward her again, and again she kept moving
away from me. I continued trying to back her up
to the wall, but she eventually just vanished before she
(16:43):
got there. That was it all I needed to know.
It might have just been a fluke, but it looked
like the ghosts of lighthouse did not like an open flame.
There wasn't much I could do with that information at
the time, but I was going to use it as
a precaution. I began to light candles a night in
my room before I went to bed. I tried to
carry one around as much as possible, just in case.
(17:05):
It acted like a deterrent for a bit, like a
mosquito and citronella, but not forever. Unfortunately, perhaps they got
wise to my plan, but the candles began to go out.
They'd be out when I would wake up in the morning,
or a gust of wind would snuff one out as
I carried it. I still did it, though, even if
it wasn't a perfect method. It gave me a little
(17:27):
bit of hope, which is more than I had before.
But over the last few years, I can feel the
darkness closing in on me. It consumes people, Terra. But
I think you know that already. I think you had
some idea after we watched what it did to our
father eats them up from the inside out and turns
(17:47):
them into a hollow shell of a person. It drives
them mad, and once they are so weak that they
can no longer help themselves, it takes over in their
final moments and takes them. We were good at keeping
it out away from us, but that night I killed Dad.
I think I unintentionally opened a door for it to
come in. I committed an act of violence, and it
(18:09):
was drawn to me. The darkness got into my heart.
I've been fighting it off for so many years, but Tara,
I'm just so tired. I'm tired of constantly keeping my
guard up. I'm tired of the sleepless nights, and I'm
tired of wondering when the moment will come, when its
(18:31):
final strike will take me away and I'll be stuck
within it forever. I can see it watching me, Tara,
late at night, just outside the circle of candle light,
in shadows of its own making, in the corners of
the house as I go about my day, and even
here in the lighthouse itself. It moves freely in the house,
(18:54):
using those it has consumed in the past as vessels
to do its bidding. But I don't think it lives there.
It was trapped in the dark room when we found it.
But that's not where it's originally from. It's from somewhere else,
from somewhere deep within the earth. And if that book
is right, then the lighthouse is ground zero. I've been
(19:16):
coming here for years, watching and waiting myself, trying to
study it, trying to find a pattern or a clue
or just something to help. And I think I finally
have it figured out. I think this is the way
to stop it. I'm going to lure it here to
the lighthouse. I'm going to try to trap it inside,
(19:36):
and then when it's backed into a corner with nowhere
else to go, I'm going to burn it to the ground.
This lighthouse is old and falling apart anyway, right, I mean,
it's been deteriorating for years, long before we even moved in,
and it's one step away from being condemned. I piled
a bunch of old wooden boxes on the ground floor
to help ignite it, and I even sprinkled some gasoline
(19:57):
on everything to spread the flame from the bottom floor
up the stairs to right here near the beacon. If
I can time it right, and luck is on my side,
I think there may be a chance. It's not a
perfect plan. I know there are so many ways it
can go wrong, and honestly I'm not very optimistic about it,
(20:19):
but it's all I have tera I have to do
something because, like I said, I can feel it watching
me now more so than ever. I feel like it's
getting ready to strike, so my time is growing short.
It's now or never. If this goes south, then my
only recourse to escape the darkness is to jump off
(20:41):
the lighthouse into the ocean. It's a long drop, you
can see that, and I won't survive it. To everyone else,
that will probably look like suicide, a poor, lonely woman
whose life was filled with tragedy taking her life so
she doesn't have to endure it anymore. Despite how it
may look to everyone else, I want you to know
that it wasn't. It's just my last desperate attempt to
(21:04):
escape and make sure the darkness does not get me.
But it has to be done. I'm sorry for not
telling you this in person or sooner. I'm sorry for
not involving you. You'd want to help, but I can't
risk you getting hurt too. This is something I have
to do. Alone to give you and Mom a chance
(21:26):
at getting better. It's time for me to kill the darkness.
Lighthouse were returned after a word from our sponsors, and
now Lighthouse continues. There's just one last thing before I go,
(21:57):
something I need to ask of you, Terra, and it's
something I'm not sure you will be comfortable with if
I don't make it out of this. If I fail,
I need you to take care of Abigail for me.
She's an innocent in all of this, Terra. I know
she is. She may have been frightening to you, but
she was always a comfort for me. She was always
(22:17):
there for me, especially after you were gone. And and
don't take that as me blaming you for leaving, because
I am not. I know why you did, and I
wish I had the same strength you did that. Abigail
truly was a bright spot in all this darkness for me.
She helped me get through some tough times. Yes, she
sometimes does bad things, but I think that's only because
(22:40):
the darkness is in her. She's like me. She tries
to do good, but sometimes she can't fight against it either.
I think at first she was priming me to be
like her, a vessel for the darkness to corrupt, but
she fought against it, and she's been getting better at
controlling it. She can be herself with me. I left
(23:00):
some things for you in your room. There is a
box on your bed. The teddy Bear is in there.
I believe she is tied to it, and if it
goes she will too, and I hope no. I know
that if you take it far away from here, the
darkness won't be able to get to her anymore. Whether
or not I succeed, it shouldn't matter. She'll be free,
(23:25):
and that's what we all want, right to be free.
Hopefully after tonight we will be all of us, Me, you, Mom, Abigail,
everyone else that it is consumed, and if not, at
least I tried. Right. If this recording does fall into
(23:46):
your hands and I'm gone, please tell Mom I love
her too, that I don't blame her either, and that
I'm sorry. And I'm sorry to you too. I love you,
tera You're the best sister anyone could asked for. And
I'll miss you. Okay, it's now or never. I said,
(24:11):
I have to lure it here, and while I'm not sure,
I I think this part will work too. I haven't
touched it in years, but it always seemed to attract it, right,
m such a pretty song. I used to love it,
but I grew to hate it over the years. You know.
(24:33):
As strange as it sounds, one of my fondest memories
of childhood was going on that adventure with you to
find it. Granted, we accidentally unleashed some kind of ancient
evil from its hiding place, sure, but everything before that
it was fun. We sure did have fun, didn't we.
We always made the most of our situation. Looking back,
(24:56):
I know we were poor, but we were kids. We
did know any better. We had each other and our
family and that was enough. Right. Well, now that's it, then,
I just I just wait. I don't know how long
(25:17):
it will take or if it will even work, but
that's all there is left to do. This. The view
is nice. It's a shame we couldn't even get up
here to enjoy it, and we were kids. I thought
we would have loved it in another life, without all
the ghosts and spooky stuff of Lighthouse. I think I
(25:39):
think we would have been happy here. We would have
grown up happy and moved out, had happy lives, and
then one day one of us would have inherited the house.
I could have raised our own kids here, maybe even together,
and told them about how wonderful life was here. We
(26:02):
could have shown them the gorgeous view from up top here,
or the winding passages and secrets of lighthouse. Wouldn't that
have been great? One big, happy family growing old together
in a place we loved. I can't remember the last
time I even was happy. I just want to be
(26:24):
happy again, Tara. I'm sure you're happy with your family
and your life far far away from here, but I
think you feel it too, that feeling the lighthouse is
still there, calling out to us, trying to get us,
and that we won't even be truly happy until it's gone.
(26:47):
And it does need to go. I thought there could
be another way. I thought I could stop it. I
thought if I learned their stories, knew about their life,
it would help. I know all of them now, Tara,
everyone that has ever lived and died in the house,
I know all about them, their tragedies, their triumphs, their lives.
I thought names were supposed to give you power over someone,
(27:09):
But I know all their names, and yet they keep
coming for me. Ter They keep coming and coming, and
they don't stop, and one day they are going to
catch me when I'm not ready for them, and it
will be over. I have to do this, I have to.
(27:32):
I can hear it, Tara, even over the wind, the
ocean crashing below. I can hear it stirring. The music
box woken, and it's coming for me. Now there it is.
I can see you through the windows, that shadowy thing.
It's looking for me in the house. It thinks I'm
still inside, but it's only amount of time before it
(27:53):
realizes that. Yes, they're It sees me up here. I
just looked in my direction. It's leaving the house. Now
I can see it's blackness against the snow, rushing toward
the lighthouse. It's inside. It's here, This is it. It's time. Goodbye, Tera,
(28:18):
I love you, No No MHM. Lighthouse is a production
(29:23):
of I Heart Radio and Bamford Productions. Chapter nine featured
the voice of Paulina Logan. Written and directed by Jeff Himbuck,
audio engineering, an original musical score by Corey Celeste. Production
assistance by Alex Gona. Executive produced by Holly Fry. Questions comments,
(29:45):
you can reach us at the Man in the Hat
is Watching at Gmail dot com. Thank you for listening.
Lighthouse is a production of I Heart Radio and Bamford Productions.
Oh it's cold up here tonight. I guess it usually is,
being this high up off the ground overlooking the ocean,
especially in the dead of winter. Tonight is just especially cold.
(00:28):
Maybe that's just because I don't feel anything anymore, and
the biting wind up here is just biting enough for
me to actually feel something for once. Would that be something?
I spent the last years of my life just going
through the motions, pretending to be normal, staying away from
(00:49):
this place, when all I ever needed to feel again
was to come back up here. That's not how life works, though,
does it. We just try to do the best we can,
you know, I've tried to, but no matter what, something
can come along and ruin it for you. Just one
swipe and it's all taken away in an instant, your
(01:10):
life's path completely changed, for better or for worse, mostly
worse in this case. I've always tried to look on
the bright side of things, you know, try to find
the good in the bad and the okay in the
even worse. I've done that my entire life, sometimes to
my own detriment, but it helped for the most part.
(01:33):
I know what they say about me, I know what
they feel. I just I don't care. I know it's
an unconscious reaction past trauma. But every once in a while,
when the moments of pure clarity shine through, like now,
I can look back and reflect and say the hell
(01:54):
with it. It seems to work for me, so why not.
But it's not working for me anymore, is it. That's
why we're here, Why I'm up here saying this to
you right now on a cold winter's night, sitting at
the top of a goddamn lighthouse that's been abandoned for decades,
but still somehow lights it's beacon to signal that something
(02:15):
bad is going to happen, Like right now, even as
I am sitting up here alone, it's phantom beam is
rotating out over the ocean, over the house, the grounds,
through the snow, and back again, over and over. It
sure does look beautiful from up here, though. Oh that
(02:38):
snow stretching as far as the eye can see, falling
into the water, disappearing into the abyss, blanketing the house
as it floats to the ground. I just walked from
there less than an hour ago, and it's like you'd
never even know. It's coming down so hard it looks untouched. Now,
(02:59):
I guess it'll stay that way. Sorry, getting off topic,
getting ahead of myself. I do that when I'm nervous.
But you know that already, don't you. Let me try
and start this over again from the beginning. Hi, Tara,
(03:21):
this is your sister Leany, and this this is my
goodbye Lighthouse. Chapter nine. So much has happened over the
(04:13):
years that I am not even sure where to begin.
Looking back. There are major beats of the story that
you were present for, things that you did for me
that I am forever grateful for. But then there are
the other aspects that are hazy details that I confused
with other instances, and I'm not even sure what was
real and what wasn't. I guess I should start with this,
(04:35):
It's not your fault, Terra. I know that after I
do this, you are going to beat yourself up over it,
but I just need you to know this isn't your fault.
You did the best you could and helped me as
much as I could be. I guess it could be
argued that it was my own stubborn refusal that did this.
I should have left, I should have visited you in
(04:57):
your family. I should have gotten far far away from here,
but despite how much she has retreated into herself, I
could never leave our mother here alone. At the end
of the day, there's only one thing to blame for
all this. The house lighthouse ruined our lives. And even
though you're hundreds of miles away, I know you still
(05:21):
can feel it calling out to you. It's got a
siren's call, doesn't it. Over the years, I've come to
realize that this old lighthouse, despite not having been used
in years, still does exactly what it's job entailed. Except
it's not calling out to those who are lost in
the fog at sea, guiding their way so they can
find their way home. No, Instead, the lighthouse is a
(05:45):
beacon for darkness, calling it in from the far corners
of the earth, letting it know. That lighthouse was a
feeding ground on which they could stuff themselves full of
unsuspecting souls. Even before the house was built, and long
before the lighthouse, this land, the grounds on which it
currently stands, was considered cursed. I found a book in
(06:06):
our library, once hidden among the stacks and thousands of others,
that detailed stories and lore from New Jersey stuff that
was passed down from generation a generation, As these types
of stories often are, there was one in particular, marked
by dog eared pages and an ancient pencils circling it,
(06:27):
that was of interest. It told of a parcel of
land located on a bluff overlooking the ocean. The land
sat barren for years as ancient tribes refused to settle
on it. Despite its advantages, early colonizers to the area
saw it as an opportunity established a camp there. Not
(06:47):
only was it the perfect vantage point, but there were
also resources to be had and rumors of fresh water
running through the cliffs grounds. These settlers dug a well
on the bluff. Deeper and deeper they went, until miraculously
they did strike a vein of underground water. But despite
their good fortune, apparently they found something else in the
(07:09):
well too. A black cloud escaped from it, bursting into
the air, scaring them all. Bad luck befell them then,
and eventually the camp was abandoned and the well was
covered up. Does any of that sound familiar, Terra, because
it should. I mean, it's right there in stained glass
on our front door, the well, the black cloud, and
(07:32):
the lighthouse. I did some digging of my own, not physically,
of course, but at the library, the land that the
story spoke of. It's here, right where I'm standing, And
the well, after years spent covered up, was destroyed. But
what was built on that very same spot because of
(07:53):
its natural vantage point the lighthouse, And soon after the
lighthouse came a small home for the housekeeper, and then
eventually the Hollis family home, our home lighthouse. I wish
I had saved that book and put it aside for
you to see, because after that day I read that
(08:15):
the one time I saw it, I never saw the
book again. I searched that library top to bottom, each
in every shelf, but to no avail. Was it even real?
Did I just imagine the whole thing? Or was it
just the house playing tricks on me? Once I started
to learn its secrets. I believe that book had more
in there, maybe even something I could have used to
(08:37):
stop the darkness, But now that it's gone, we'll never
know for sure. I have some ideas, but nothing concrete.
I sure would have come in handy though, especially now
now that I have no choice. But I'm getting ahead
of myself again. Sorry, Tara, I should probably tell you
(08:59):
about the other stuff first, Like Abigail. Now, look before
you roll your eyes, because I know that is exactly
what you are doing right now. I need you to
understand something about her. I know you think she's been
a bad influence on me, and sure, in some ways
she was, but she's not all bad. She's actually kind
of well, I don't know if if nice is the
(09:21):
word for it, but helpful. You already know who she
really is. Madeleine hollis Dad's younger sister. What you don't
know is that she loved our father very much, so
when she started to talk to me, she thought calling
herself Abigail would endear herself to him. I guess she
(09:42):
was wrong, But as scary as she may have been
to you, sometimes she really was trying to help. She's
just a little girl forever stuck in that mindset because
her life was taken from her far too early. Maybe
that's the reason I sometimes act like a child. She
she and I both went through something tragic when we
were young, so we can relate on that level. Now. Granted,
(10:07):
she died and I didn't, so she had a little worse,
but you know what I mean, and she helped us
a lot, even without you realizing it. She's on our side,
I promise you. She just wasn't enough. Nothing is ever enough.
(10:28):
I saw that little boy on my way here, the
one with the chattering teeth. We didn't see him a
lot as kids, but I see him more now now
that I'm spending more time up here and not in
the dark room. I guess he's confined to the grounds
and not the house itself. That's weird, right, Like how
(10:48):
come some of them can go wherever they want, like Abigail,
and others are stuck to the one place. It doesn't
make any sense, but there has to be a reason
for it. Anyway I saw him, This weather is perfect
for him, his teeth just gnashing away in the cold.
I assume he died out here somewhere, froze to death
(11:11):
on the property, and is forever doomed to repeat that fate.
He followed me all the way out here, and the
way his body moves freaks me out. It's not natural.
It's all jerky and slow. But no matter how fast
I moved, he was still right behind me. Maybe he
(11:31):
just wants a friend. They don't all have to be bad,
do they? Some of them can be good, right, Like Abigail,
I keep avoiding saying what I really need to say,
and I'm sure that it is frustrating for you hearing
me babil on about nothing without getting to the reason
I'm here. I think I know how to stop all this, Terra,
(11:53):
and I mean really, stop it once and for all.
And I'm going to try. I really am. But m h,
if you're listening to this right now, if you're hearing this,
that means something went wrong. It means that I'm I'm gone.
(12:17):
Lighthouse will return after these messages and now back to Lighthouse.
Before I tell you my plan, I need to tell
you what I am thinking. How I got here, about
(12:40):
the time the shadowy thing came for me and failed,
not by much, but thankfully enough that I was able
to escape. The seed was planted. I remember, just before
you left for college. It was on a night I
couldn't sleep well almost nights, yes, but on this one
I was especially restless. I was thirsty and I went
(13:00):
to get a drink of water. It was late and
I didn't want to wake anyone, so I took a
candle instead of turning on any lights. It was dark
and the candle only illuminated so little of the world
around me, but it was enough to light my way.
It was quiet at first, but then I heard a
(13:23):
rumbling behind me. I turned to see, but of course
nothing was there. We were no strangers to the ghosts
of the house, and my hope was that it was
just Abigail checking up on me, making sure I was safe.
I was wrong, though, because the more I walked, the
more the rumbling echoed behind me. The hallway, for some reason,
(13:44):
started to feel impossibly long. I kept walking and walking,
and it kept stretching on forever. I wasn't making any progress,
it seemed. I began to run, afraid of what might
be coming next. When an unearthly sound caused me to
turn around. The shadowy thing was in the walls, bulging
its body outward as it came for me, stretching the
(14:06):
wood and plaster in unnatural proportions. It got closer and closer,
and I kept running, but it was like I was
running in place. I couldn't get away from it. It
jumped out of the wall and into the carpet, hot
on my heels, like a shark stucking through the water,
and then it was on me. I turned and it
came right at me, Tara. I turned to see, and
I stumbled backward, thinking that it was the end for me,
(14:28):
that the darkness was finally going to get me. I
held my hands in front of my face to block it,
a fruitless effort, of course, but it stopped. One second
it was there, and then the next it roared away,
running like a dog with its tail between its legs.
I had no idea what had happened. I thought maybe
it was just trying to scare me, toy with me.
(14:50):
But then I felt it. A bit of hot wax
dripped off the candle still in my hand onto my stomach.
It hurt only for a second, but it gave me
an idea. What if it was the candle, the one
that I held in my hand, holding it up in
a defensive measure. What if it was afraid of the flame? Silly,
I know, but that was the only thing I could
(15:12):
think of. I thought about that moment a lot over
the years. I should have told you about it. I
should have tested that theory out sooner. I should have
thought about it when the darkness took Dad before I
had well, you know, it was later on, after you
had left for good that I was able to actually
try it out. It was a little dangerous, I know
(15:34):
that now, but it had been gnawing away at me
for years, and I had to see. It wasn't even planned, honestly.
I was in the dining room and I saw that
made you know, the one, the woman with the bleeding eyes.
She was setting the table again before she noticed me,
a ghostly action that was never ending, since her phantom's
silverware never stayed in sight for long. I watched her
(15:57):
for a bit before she noticed me. When she did,
she stopped and stared. I stared right back. A flickering
caught my eye, and I saw that there were a
few candles lit on the table. I don't know why
it popped into my head then, but I grabbed the
candle labra that often sat in the center, armed with
not one, but three candles. I took a step toward her.
(16:20):
She didn't move. I took another, and still she stood there.
But on the third step, when I was within a
foot or so from her, she grimaced and took step back. Surprised,
I walked toward her again, and again she kept moving
away from me. I continued trying to back her up
to the wall, but she eventually just vanished before she
(16:43):
got there. That was it all I needed to know.
It might have just been a fluke, but it looked
like the ghosts of lighthouse did not like an open flame.
There wasn't much I could do with that information at
the time, but I was going to use it as
a precaution. I began to light candles a night in
my room before I went to bed. I tried to
carry one around as much as possible, just in case.
(17:05):
It acted like a deterrent for a bit, like a
mosquito and citronella, but not forever. Unfortunately, perhaps they got
wise to my plan, but the candles began to go out.
They'd be out when I would wake up in the morning,
or a gust of wind would snuff one out as
I carried it. I still did it, though, even if
it wasn't a perfect method. It gave me a little
(17:27):
bit of hope, which is more than I had before.
But over the last few years, I can feel the
darkness closing in on me. It consumes people, Terra. But
I think you know that already. I think you had
some idea after we watched what it did to our
father eats them up from the inside out and turns
(17:47):
them into a hollow shell of a person. It drives
them mad, and once they are so weak that they
can no longer help themselves, it takes over in their
final moments and takes them. We were good at keeping
it out away from us, but that night I killed Dad.
I think I unintentionally opened a door for it to
come in. I committed an act of violence, and it
(18:09):
was drawn to me. The darkness got into my heart.
I've been fighting it off for so many years, but Tara,
I'm just so tired. I'm tired of constantly keeping my
guard up. I'm tired of the sleepless nights, and I'm
tired of wondering when the moment will come, when its
(18:31):
final strike will take me away and I'll be stuck
within it forever. I can see it watching me, Tara,
late at night, just outside the circle of candle light,
in shadows of its own making, in the corners of
the house as I go about my day, and even
here in the lighthouse itself. It moves freely in the house,
(18:54):
using those it has consumed in the past as vessels
to do its bidding. But I don't think it lives there.
It was trapped in the dark room when we found it.
But that's not where it's originally from. It's from somewhere else,
from somewhere deep within the earth. And if that book
is right, then the lighthouse is ground zero. I've been
(19:16):
coming here for years, watching and waiting myself, trying to
study it, trying to find a pattern or a clue
or just something to help. And I think I finally
have it figured out. I think this is the way
to stop it. I'm going to lure it here to
the lighthouse. I'm going to try to trap it inside,
(19:36):
and then when it's backed into a corner with nowhere
else to go, I'm going to burn it to the ground.
This lighthouse is old and falling apart anyway, right, I mean,
it's been deteriorating for years, long before we even moved in,
and it's one step away from being condemned. I piled
a bunch of old wooden boxes on the ground floor
to help ignite it, and I even sprinkled some gasoline
(19:57):
on everything to spread the flame from the bottom floor
up the stairs to right here near the beacon. If
I can time it right, and luck is on my side,
I think there may be a chance. It's not a
perfect plan. I know there are so many ways it
can go wrong, and honestly I'm not very optimistic about it,
(20:19):
but it's all I have tera I have to do
something because, like I said, I can feel it watching
me now more so than ever. I feel like it's
getting ready to strike, so my time is growing short.
It's now or never. If this goes south, then my
only recourse to escape the darkness is to jump off
(20:41):
the lighthouse into the ocean. It's a long drop, you
can see that, and I won't survive it. To everyone else,
that will probably look like suicide, a poor, lonely woman
whose life was filled with tragedy taking her life so
she doesn't have to endure it anymore. Despite how it
may look to everyone else, I want you to know
that it wasn't. It's just my last desperate attempt to
(21:04):
escape and make sure the darkness does not get me.
But it has to be done. I'm sorry for not
telling you this in person or sooner. I'm sorry for
not involving you. You'd want to help, but I can't
risk you getting hurt too. This is something I have
to do. Alone to give you and Mom a chance
(21:26):
at getting better. It's time for me to kill the darkness.
Lighthouse were returned after a word from our sponsors, and
now Lighthouse continues. There's just one last thing before I go,
(21:57):
something I need to ask of you, Terra, and it's
something I'm not sure you will be comfortable with if
I don't make it out of this. If I fail,
I need you to take care of Abigail for me.
She's an innocent in all of this, Terra. I know
she is. She may have been frightening to you, but
she was always a comfort for me. She was always
(22:17):
there for me, especially after you were gone. And and
don't take that as me blaming you for leaving, because
I am not. I know why you did, and I
wish I had the same strength you did that. Abigail
truly was a bright spot in all this darkness for me.
She helped me get through some tough times. Yes, she
sometimes does bad things, but I think that's only because
(22:40):
the darkness is in her. She's like me. She tries
to do good, but sometimes she can't fight against it either.
I think at first she was priming me to be
like her, a vessel for the darkness to corrupt, but
she fought against it, and she's been getting better at
controlling it. She can be herself with me. I left
(23:00):
some things for you in your room. There is a
box on your bed. The teddy Bear is in there.
I believe she is tied to it, and if it
goes she will too, and I hope no. I know
that if you take it far away from here, the
darkness won't be able to get to her anymore. Whether
or not I succeed, it shouldn't matter. She'll be free,
(23:25):
and that's what we all want, right to be free.
Hopefully after tonight we will be all of us, Me, you, Mom, Abigail,
everyone else that it is consumed, and if not, at
least I tried. Right. If this recording does fall into
(23:46):
your hands and I'm gone, please tell Mom I love
her too, that I don't blame her either, and that
I'm sorry. And I'm sorry to you too. I love you,
tera You're the best sister anyone could asked for. And
I'll miss you. Okay, it's now or never. I said,
(24:11):
I have to lure it here, and while I'm not sure,
I I think this part will work too. I haven't
touched it in years, but it always seemed to attract it, right,
m such a pretty song. I used to love it,
but I grew to hate it over the years. You know.
(24:33):
As strange as it sounds, one of my fondest memories
of childhood was going on that adventure with you to
find it. Granted, we accidentally unleashed some kind of ancient
evil from its hiding place, sure, but everything before that
it was fun. We sure did have fun, didn't we.
We always made the most of our situation. Looking back,
(24:56):
I know we were poor, but we were kids. We
did know any better. We had each other and our
family and that was enough. Right. Well, now that's it, then,
I just I just wait. I don't know how long
(25:17):
it will take or if it will even work, but
that's all there is left to do. This. The view
is nice. It's a shame we couldn't even get up
here to enjoy it, and we were kids. I thought
we would have loved it in another life, without all
the ghosts and spooky stuff of Lighthouse. I think I
(25:39):
think we would have been happy here. We would have
grown up happy and moved out, had happy lives, and
then one day one of us would have inherited the house.
I could have raised our own kids here, maybe even together,
and told them about how wonderful life was here. We
(26:02):
could have shown them the gorgeous view from up top here,
or the winding passages and secrets of lighthouse. Wouldn't that
have been great? One big, happy family growing old together
in a place we loved. I can't remember the last
time I even was happy. I just want to be
(26:24):
happy again, Tara. I'm sure you're happy with your family
and your life far far away from here, but I
think you feel it too, that feeling the lighthouse is
still there, calling out to us, trying to get us,
and that we won't even be truly happy until it's gone.
(26:47):
And it does need to go. I thought there could
be another way. I thought I could stop it. I
thought if I learned their stories, knew about their life,
it would help. I know all of them now, Tara,
everyone that has ever lived and died in the house,
I know all about them, their tragedies, their triumphs, their lives.
I thought names were supposed to give you power over someone,
(27:09):
But I know all their names, and yet they keep
coming for me. Ter They keep coming and coming, and
they don't stop, and one day they are going to
catch me when I'm not ready for them, and it
will be over. I have to do this, I have to.
(27:32):
I can hear it, Tara, even over the wind, the
ocean crashing below. I can hear it stirring. The music
box woken, and it's coming for me. Now there it is.
I can see you through the windows, that shadowy thing.
It's looking for me in the house. It thinks I'm
still inside, but it's only amount of time before it
(27:53):
realizes that. Yes, they're It sees me up here. I
just looked in my direction. It's leaving the house. Now
I can see it's blackness against the snow, rushing toward
the lighthouse. It's inside. It's here, This is it. It's time. Goodbye, Tera,
(28:18):
I love you, No No MHM. Lighthouse is a production
(29:23):
of I Heart Radio and Bamford Productions. Chapter nine featured
the voice of Paulina Logan. Written and directed by Jeff Himbuck,
audio engineering, an original musical score by Corey Celeste. Production
assistance by Alex Gona. Executive produced by Holly Fry. Questions comments,
(29:45):
you can reach us at the Man in the Hat
is Watching at Gmail dot com. Thank you for listening.
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