The Lighthouse

This is the story of Andrew Cullum, word by word as his ghost has shared it with me in a dream while visiting the Cullum Lighthouse in the Dupont Region.

You must understand this first, he murmured. You need to stop doing this before it is too late. It’s already late and all the staff has left. There is no one here to save you.

I was like you once, you know. Even from a young age I was given everything I ever wanted, was never told know. You see, I was a sickling child. I was always so frail and mother, oh, well... she did her best.

And the doctors she hired, were the most expensive, which meant they were the best, right? But who in their right mind could give prepubescent opioid-laced pills for a simple cough? The ones that want to be on a payroll. I love them, every time I would feel lonely or felt I wanted to feel loved I would start coughing and all my needs would be met – with one or more pills. Easy to get until I was told that I could not get them anymore. I thought they were on to me, but they were blind.

By that point, I had my little network because, you see people with the same afflictions always find each other. And I always found the ones willing to pay or pay for me.

It was easy. Life was great. Even fooled my parents a couple of times with rehab stints. The first time, I meant it. My girlfriend at the time had just gotten assaulted at a party. I was out of that world when it happened. Luckily, she was too. After that, I stopped talking to her. Don’t remember when exactly, but who needs that psycho anyway? One night with me made her go to rehab. Funny how things go. Made me feel unstoppable. And for a few years, I was.

I had built a house, I wanted to sell it. It’s the house you’re in right now. See it was easy for you to find the spare key and my last surprise. I was planning on hitting that but guess I can’t do it anymore. So you’re safe.

- What do you mean safe? I asked while I was finishing the first line.

- You know, there’s no one here to bother you and tell you how you’re ruining your life, selling yourself short and old that. My dad was always on my back yelling and beating the crap out of me. See this? He would tie me to a tree in the morass and beat me with a chain until I would faint.

He then touched my forehead and saw it the way it happened. Sometimes it would happen once a month, even more than twice a week. It always came out of the blue. I felt his pain. Felt his injuries.

Woke up, there was no one there, but the stash went missing. Then I saw an old guy leaving.

- Hey, stop there, where’s my stuff? I know you took it. Give it back!

- You don’t need it. You know this right here, is enough to kill a horse, and do you really wanna mix all those chemicals? Aren’t you smarter than that?

- Listen, old man, I don’t know who you are but…

- But what? I’m a ghost if you can’t tell. I was the lighthouse keeper after that spoiled Andrew brat offed himself.

- What?

- It means I worked and lived here, but you know what, you don’t know me. So let me tell you what happened after Andrew had died.

I was hired on 26th September 2024. Andrew died a few months ago, on 16 July. Guess it was a boating trip accident. But they wanted to keep it all hush-hush.

I came here with my two daughters and let me tell you this – this place was even then crazy. Would find burning candles in satanic-like stars and there were all these scrambling’s, my youngest even told me some of them looked like the zodiac signs. Would find the light turned up, and noises every night at 3 am like someone crying saying I lost it. I didn’t know what they were looking for, so I started doing that for them, I said to myself, I’m old, I need to rest.

- He was looking for the stash. That’s what junkies do. They’re afraid they’re losing…

- The what in the who? Anyways. Stayed up late every night. Until I noticed that the monument on the staircase was a bit burnt. So, I grabbed it, wiggled it a bit, and noticed a button. Turns out it had a secret compartment. There it was a small, green velvet box with a crown on it. It was accompanied by a letter saying that whoever had possession of it, was automatically the Light House King, signed by Andrew Cullum.

The next day I called the estate and told them about the box. They came after a week or so, took the box, and asked me if I opened it. But I sure did not. I just wanted to give them the box back. They asked me if it was a prank or if I was looking to blackmail them or go to the press. But I’m an honest man myself. So of course, I told them no. They left, and two weeks later I was fighting for my life. Now I’m here talking to you.

- So, what do you want now? Old man.

- Nothing much, I mean, you can go ahead and finish what you started. I just wanted you to meet some of the residents before committing to a full eternal rent here.