SEASON 7 - Whispers from the Lantern: The Keeper's Lament

The Haunting goes on | From the Creator of Tales That Breathe At Night

By Tales That Breathe at NightPublished about a month ago • 4 min read

Chapter 13

"He... he is the lure," Evelyn said, her voice a low, strangled whisper. "He is the king. He is the master of the drowned. And he wants us to join his kingdom."

The Drowned King raises his clawed hand, commanding the endless tide of lost souls to advance. He is the master of the drowned, and he wants new subjects for his kingdom. A scene from Chapter 13

"We have to go back to the lighthouse," Aris said, his voice a low, grim whisper. "We have to find a way to re-contain them. We have to find a way to end this."

The team makes a frantic, desperate final ascent up the winding iron staircase of the lighthouse, seeking refuge in the lantern room for a last stand. A scene from Chapter 13

They ran, a frantic, desperate stampede up the worn stone steps. They ran to the top, to the lantern room. They stood in the lantern room, the cold air a profound, shocking embrace. They looked at the shattered lens. They looked at the old, broken lamp. They had a choice. They could stay here, and watch as the sea consumed them. Or they could find a way to turn the light off.

He looked at the broken lamp, its wick a limp, lifeless thread. He looked at the shattered lens. He had a choice. He could stay here, Or he could find a way to turn the light off. He had to end this.

Aris discovers a small, ancient key and inserts it into the broken lamp, unintentionally igniting the beacon—but it emits a sinister blue light of despair, not hope. A pivotal mistake from Chapter 13

He saw it. A small, unassuming key, hanging on a hook on the wall. It was the key to the lamp. He grabbed it, his hands shaking uncontrollably. He inserted the key into the lamp, and with a low, rhythmic hum, the lamp began to glow.

A faint, ethereal blue light filled the lantern room, a profound, mournful lament in its embrace. The light was not a beacon of hope. It was a beacon of despair. It was the light that had lured the drowned to their deaths.

The lighthouse beam erupts to life, but instead of a guiding white light, it projects a malevolent, pulsating blue beam of pure despair out over the ocean. A turning point from Chapter 13

The Keeper's voice, a low, guttural growl, filled the air. "You… have… awakened… the… light."

He looked at the Keeper, and in a moment of pure, raw terror, he ran towards him, the lamp in his hand. He was a scientist, a man of logic and reason, and he was about to face the impossible. He was about to face a ghost. He was about to face a man who had lost everything. He was about to face a man who had lost his soul.

Chapter 14

The Keeper's face, a distorted, screaming mask of despair, was trapped behind a single, glass lens. He was a man who had lost everything, who had been betrayed by the very thing he had sworn to protect. He was a man who had lost his soul.

He was not a warrior. He was not a hero. He was just a man who had made a profound mistake. He had opened a door he should have left closed. He had awakened a force he should have left undisturbed. He had to end this.

He reached the Keeper, and with a profound, soul-deep rage, he thrust the lamp into the Keeper's chest. The lamp shattered, and a brilliant, white light, a profound, mournful lament, filled the air. The Keeper's body, a grotesque parody of a human, began to glow.

"You… have… defeated… me," the Keeper rasped, his voice a symphony of grinding gears and static. "You… have… won."

He smiled, a profound, soulful smile that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul.

And then, he was gone. He was gone, and the sea was a profound, silent presence. The drowned were gone. The whispers were gone. The tears were gone.

The sea was silent. The town was silent. The world was silent. The haunting was over. The journey was over. The story was over.