Rewritten, read out loud and republished. The story was originally published on fictionspawn.com February 21. 2017
The lighthouse shows way for lost sailors. The wind pulls the stone walls, threatening to tear them apart, but these walls have held storms for a hundred years.
This one was harder, though. Much harder. The sea was higher than he’d ever seen. The wind stronger. The thunder rumbled louder.
A flash. A loud crack. He looked up, out of the window. Towards the sea.
There was no light.
He put his book down, grabbed his lamp and went out to the staircase. The tall walls were making disconcerting noises, but the tower was built for hard weather. He walked up the many stairs, moving his lamp around, looking, searching for the failure. He remembered a book about evil lurking in the shadows, about horrors of the dark. The storm grew louder.
He was not afraid.
A cable was loose, on the outside. He could hear the sea slamming fiercely onto the rocks far underneath. The wind made the tower wave. He opened the door. The wind caught him, sucked him out. One hand grabbed the door frame. His feet left the ground. He fell back in.
He tied a rope around his waist. He opened the door again, went out. The wind pulled him, tore him. He held on to the fence, moving along the wall. He fell once. Got up. Fell again.
He remembered a book about adventurers in high mountains. Explorers crossing bottomless abysses and freezing winds. Strong men meeting their doom.
He was not afraid.
Something rose from the sea behind him. Something big, looming above. He could see a light in the darkness, floating in the air, high over the sea. Thunder roared. He reached the heavy cable. Lifted it, got it attached. Light came on.
He saw a monster. A snake. A fish like head covered in shells. Gills. Nostrils. Clawed arms down its body.
He remembered a tale of lost sailors. Of darkness in the sea. A story of creatures from the deep of the oceans, monsters from dimensions of hell.
He was afraid.
The wind caught him. He fell out. The rope straightened. He hung, helpless on the wall. Above him stood the monster. Huge like the sea. Terrible like the storm. He heard laughter. Evil, rolling laughter in the skies. He grabbed the rope, pulled himself up. Got in through the door.
The roar of the horrors outside echoed between the rocks. He remembered a book about old gods of thunder and destruction. He was afraid.
He sunk down in a corner. Hopefully the storm would soon be over.