The sea was too quiet.
Arin noticed it the moment he stepped off the rusted bus and felt the wind hit his face—cold, salty, and strangely still, as if the waves held their breath just for him. The driver didn't wait for a goodbye; the doors hissed shut and the bus groaned away, leaving Arin alone on the deserted, fog-drowned road leading toward the cliffs.
Far ahead, barely visible through the thick gray, stood the lighthouse.
Tall. Thin. Completely black against the sky.
Its light was not turning.Its light was not glowing.Its light was watching.
Locals had warned him.
They said the lighthouse burned on stormless nights.They said a man's scream sometimes echoed across the water without a storm in sight.They said the last keeper walked into the sea and never came back.
They also said no one should take the job.
But Arin had no choice. Money was money, and the Coast Guard needed someone to inspect the abandoned lighthouse.
He swallowed hard and adjusted the strap of his rucksack. The path to the cliff was little more than broken stone and wet grass. Each step felt like it sank a little deeper than it should, as if the ground was soft—softer than soil had any right to be.
A crow sat on a fence post, unmoving, staring at him with eyes as cold as the wind.When he walked past it, the bird didn't fly, didn't caw, didn't even blink.
The fog thickened.
By the time he reached the cliffs, he could barely see his own feet. But he could see it—the lighthouse—rising like a giant shadow above the ocean.
The tower seemed taller than he remembered from the photographs. Wider. Its stone looked bruised by centuries of storms… or something else. Something older than storms.
The metal door at the base hung slightly open.
Not pushed open by wind.Not damaged by rust.Just… left ajar.
Arin froze.
There was no wind. No footsteps. No movement.But the door creaked wider, slowly, as if the lighthouse were… welcoming him.
Or hungry.
A faint sound echoed from inside.
A slow, soft tapping.Like someone walking around in circles, far above, just beneath the lantern room.
Tap……tap…...tap.
Arin's breath fogged the air. He stepped closer, heart pounding, and placed his hand on the cold metal.
Inside, the tapping stopped.
The silence that followed felt alive.
He pushed the door open.
The lighthouse sighed.