The Lighthouse

"I had no choice. Look outside, man."

As we were below the lantern room and its windows, there was no way of doing that, but we both knew how things looked outside anyway. The hoped-for light of understanding did not dawn in his rugged face.

"So what?"

"Look, I had to flee in here for shelter."

I looked at his face more closely and it looked hardened, almost inhumanly so. It was not unattractive, it just looked incredibly tough, like a very old piece of leather. I wondered idly if the man had ever laughed in his life. It looked like he would hardly notice the weather conditions outside. My face looked different, though, and I would definitely notice them.

"It's not safe here for you."

I wanted to ask what that meant, but he had already turned around and calmly walked down the stairs. I didn't feel any need to follow him to continue our conversation. The man was incredibly huge and scary.

He seemed almost like he belonged to a different species. Too big, too tough, too emotionless to be human. I had no doubt he could kill me without the slightest mental or physical effort. I decided to stay away from him and wondered where "away from him" exactly was.

I decided to leave this place in the morning if the conditions had improved.

The morning turned out to be even worse than the days before. I climbed the few remaining stairs to the lantern room to have a look outside. On one side of the tower, the windows were thickly covered with ice or snow. Things didn't look good.

I walked around to the other side and was able to look outside. That looked even worse. I could feel the tower vibrating in the wind. It had obviously survived many years and many storms. I wished I were more certain it would survive this one. The visibility beyond the windows was almost zero. The intense cold was creeping through the glass.

I retreated to the level below, decided to make camp there as well as I could and leave as soon as it wasn't outright suicide to step outside.

It was a great night for sleeping in my borrowed little hideaway, with just a few exceptions. The howling wind outside, the weird noises the empty tower produced, visions of Dani having sex with that other guy, visions of Dani lying dead in the snow, my irrational but persistent guilt about it and my fears of that inhuman human returning. Everything else was wonderful, and I slept like a baby. That is to say, I woke up at least once every hour.

When the morning came, I felt like death warmed over. Tired, sore, confused and frightened, I felt incapable of a single rational thought. It seemed my spinal cord was in charge and I just reacted to external stimuli. I felt unable to think things through rationally, utterly without the mental capacity needed in such a dire situation.

The storm was still raging ferociously, but at least I was reasonably sure the giant hadn't killed me during the night. I peeked over the railing, down the empty tower and the winding staircase. The top, where I was, was the brightest part. When I arrived the day before, the top had seemed like the impossibly bright end of a vertical tunnel. Looking down from above was like looking down a gun barrel. I couldn't see anything beyond the first few windings of the staircase.

I immediately decided to do nothing, eat a bit, relax, think things through, make a solid plan. I decided to stay awake as much as possible, be alert, observe things.

I woke up some indeterminable time later. I wasn't what you might call refreshed, but I could arrive at some rational decisions. First, I would have to stay inside the tower until the storm abated. Second, I would try to stay away from that guy. My main goal was still staying alive. As I wouldn't stand a chance against him in any kind of confrontation, the best course of action was to avoid one. That meant staying on top of the tower, as far as I could figure out.

I wondered where he had come from. The bottom of the tower seemed completely empty. He obviously hadn't come in from outside and gone out again after he talked to me, so there must be a habitable place somewhere down below that I hadn't seen. I was interested, but determined to stay where I was and not let curiosity kill me.

A little while later, I had finally reached the bottom of that damn staircase, already breaking my newfound resolve. It turned out to be impossible to just sit up there endlessly, doing nothing, wondering what was going on. I told myself I wasn't curious, I just needed information. I looked around, ready to flee upstairs again if necessary, and tried to assess the almost completely dark circular room. I wished Dani hadn't taken our flashlight.

The floor was covered by a thick layer of dust and looked a bit like the surface of the moon in those old Apollo pictures. I could see my own footsteps from two days before, leading from the door to the staircase. I also saw the guy's much larger footprints leading from the staircase towards a wall.

I followed the footprints to what turned out to be a door. It wasn't even hidden; it was just too damn dark in that place to notice subtle things like a door.

Opening it very cautiously, I saw a straight staircase leading down right behind it. That was enough. Trying to convince myself I wasn't panicking, I closed the door and climbed the staircase again as quickly as my strength and dignity allowed.

"You opened the door."

Startled, I woke up again. Damn, why did I keep falling asleep all the time?

"Wha... what?"

"The door," the deep voice rumbled again, like a big V8 engine running in idle.

"Yes," I confessed. "But I didn't go inside." I felt silly, like a schoolboy justifying a minor offense.

"Stay outside. Your life will depend on it."

Okay, the threat was pretty unambiguous, but what was I supposed to stay out of? The cellar or the whole tower?

"What do you mean..." I started, but I was already talking to his back.

The next day, I kept my curiosity in check, aided by my very clear memory of the giant's few words. I stayed at the top of the tower and didn't see the scary giant again. I still had food for a few days and I found a place where I could collect melted snow to save some of my provisions. The tower's interior was obviously slightly above freezing, but it sure didn't feel that way.

I spent the day listening to the howling wind and the groaning tower and looking outside into the whiteout. Mostly, I was busy feeling unhappy and lonely. Unfortunately, I had plenty of time to think about Dani and me.

Partly to distract myself, I once again decided to assess my whole situation and make a plan. As usual, I was too tired to think clearly, so I sacrificed one of my few remaining chocolate bars to get some brain fuel. I tried to assemble all the information I had.

I was in a lighthouse that should have been deserted, but wasn't. It was in a very remote area that terrified the locals. There was a basement that I hadn't expected under the lighthouse. At least one person, a huge man, seemed to live down there. Maybe there were others, but I hadn't seen them. I was trapped upstairs and would be for at least a few more days.

If there was one clear course of action, I had no idea what that might be. Was anything going on in that basement any of my business? No. I had just enough food to reach the village if this storm would abate soon. I didn't feel safe on that platform, mainly because I wasn't. There was no way to block access to it. Did I need to know what went on in that basement? No, I decided once more that I would strictly mind my own business.

I was shocked by the total darkness behind that door. Yes, that door, the very one I'd promised myself I would stay away from, as per the giant's orders. I could just barely see the stairs in front of me; the rest was swallowed as if by a black hole. My mobile phone had been useless for days, but I still had quite a bit of battery left and I finally had the idea to use its flashlight.

Suddenly, it was glaringly bright and I felt uncomfortably exposed. I switched the light off again and saw that after my eyes grew acclimated, I could navigate with just the light of the screen. I closed the door behind me, and tentatively made my way downstairs, to what felt like my doom.

The steps were uneven and looked much older than the old lighthouse, perhaps centuries old. I wondered if the lighthouse was built on the foundations of something else, possibly some old fortification.

The steps seemed endless, and I had the feeling that my first misstep would be my last. I pointed my phone downward, using the light from the screen to guide my tentative steps and, I hoped, avoid attracting notice. My other hand was in light contact with the rough wall. It was dry, even though I must be underground by now. Whoever built this place built it solid. I kept looking behind me, but there were no angry giants in sight.

I finally reached the bottom and was surprised to find carpet under my feet. It looked old and worn, but it was definitely carpet and it seemed to cover the whole length of a corridor. The dim light of my phone's screen did not penetrate to either end. On a whim, I cautiously turned left.

The corridor ended in an open doorway to a large, gloomy room. It was mostly empty, apart from a few work benches and some strange objects hanging from the ceiling. The scary guy was working on something in the opposite corner with his back to me. It looked like he hadn't noticed me, thank Heaven. I glanced at an object on the nearest work bench. It looked suspiciously like a human hand. I realized that I had no desire whatever to prove or disprove my hypothesis by closer examination.

Not wanting to disturb him from his certainly important tasks, I turned around and fled mindlessly. In my panic, I ran right past the stairs.

I came to a screeching halt when I found myself in some kind of living room at the other end of the corridor.

A woman sat serenely knitting in an old, but comfy looking armchair. The glass-topped table in front of her held a steaming cup of what looked like hot tea. The entire scene was so far removed from blizzards and lighthouses and scary giants that I might have walked into another reality.

She seemed surprised to see me, but greeted me with a polite "Good evening."

"Uh, what?" I answered, my nerves still frazzled from what I had seen before.

"Oh. I see you've met my husband," she said, as calm as a spring morning. It was as if I had somehow stumbled onto the set of a Victorian salon play. The problem was, I had no idea what my lines were.

"Uh, why?" was my eloquent reply, as I still tried to wrap my head around the unexpected change of scenery.

"You seem a bit flustered, I'd say. People often seem that way, when they see him. Then afterward, they often seem quite dead." She chuckled, but it sounded bitter.

"Who..." I started, but was interrupted by a banging sound from the other end of the corridor.

"It's not safe here for you."

I was coming to that conclusion myself. I noticed these were the exact same words the scary giant she had called her husband had used. I had many questions, but decided this was not the time for an exhaustive interview. A strategic retreat seemed called for, on the double. Although I didn't like dishonoring the lady's parlor with such gross impoliteness, I turned my back and ran. I thought I heard a soft "Good luck" from behind me.

I peeked down the corridor. It was empty, which was good, as I had nowhere else to go and nowhere to hide. I sprinted down the carpeted corridor, up the stairs, through the tower's ground level and up the winding metal staircase. I was surprised I could climb the tower that fast. I felt relatively safe up there, 'relatively' being the operative word. I knew there was no safety for me anywhere in this place, above ground or below it. I shivered. The tower was cold compared to the overheated basement.

Longingly, I watched the white world outside. The conditions were still too harsh to survive, but I knew I had to leave this madhouse as soon as possible.

Damn, just a few days ago, I had set off on a hiking trip with Dani, thinking my world was just perfect. Now I was either single or a widower, and I was stuck in a tower with some kind of gigantic madman and his overly polite wife. How the fuck had things gone wrong that quickly? How could a place like this tower even exist?

I checked my luggage for potential weapons and all I came up with was my pitifully small camping knife. It was never intended to kill bears or giant psychopaths; it was built for opening cans and cutting cords. As I looked at my hand, holding it, I still felt completely unarmed and vulnerable.

The guy looked as if he could kill me with his bare hands, even if I had a machine gun. I dropped the little tool into my backpack. It was not what I needed. What I needed was a good plan. I thought about blocking the staircase, but I had nothing to do it with. The tower was completely empty. I thought about leaving despite the storm, but meeting Dani again so soon wasn't an appealing thought, especially if it happened in the Great Beyond.

My best option seemed to sit here quietly and hope the big scary guy would forget about me. As soon as the weather cleared a little bit, I would be gone. The main appeal of this plan was that it was the only one I had.

Between the howling wind outside and the crazy giant in the basement, I slept like an insomniac on a rollercoaster. Finally, daylight began to filter into the lantern room, and I deduced that another day had arrived, whether I was ready for it or not. I wasn't, especially when I saw the woman from the Victorian play setting, coming at me across the landing. I had no idea what her situation was, but my desire to be involved in it was approaching zero.

"Hey," she said, sounding considerably less Victorian.

"Hey," was my brilliant reply.

"Sorry, we were interrupted down there, in hell."

"In hell?"

"The basement. That's what I call it."

"Ah, I see."

I tried to sound neutral and not too interested. I didn't want to encourage further contact, as it might be unhealthy for me.

"You asked 'who' down there? I'm his wife. Well, legally I am. Practically, I'm his prisoner."

"How did you end up here?" I asked and immediately regretted it. I didn't want to show any interest. But damn, she looked so pretty and vulnerable. I couldn't bring myself to be rude.

"Ah, it's a long, sad story and I'm afraid we don't have enough time. He will be back soon."

"Why are you up here, then?"

"I want to accompany you when you leave."

"Really?" I asked, mostly to gain some time and not appear dumb.

"Yes. I need to leave him," she stated as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

I suddenly had a very bad feeling about this.

"How often?"

"Sorry?"

"How often have you tried to escape from this nightmare?"

She looked a bit ashamed now. "A few times."

"Okay, and you asked people to help you?"

"Sometimes." She definitely looked uncomfortable now.

"How many of them are still alive?"

"I honestly don't know," she whispered.

"How many of them are still alive? How many?" I repeated more forcefully.

She started to cry. I really hate it when pretty women do that. Finally, she calmed down again and got hold of herself.

"I'm sorry," she said and fled before I could learn anything useful about her, this godforsaken place or the whole surreal situation I found myself in. Damn it, just when it seemed I might be on the point of learning something useful, I scared her off.

That night it was even harder to fall asleep. The wind still howled outside, the giant still lurked in the basement, and guilt over Dani was drizzled over the top as if it were some kind of vile dessert. Now I felt guilty about the lady from the basement parlor. I still felt no urge to be killed by that guy, but she needed help. For my whole life, I was drilled to help people in need. My parents had instilled it into my very essence until it became a part of me. I had just met the person who needed my help more than anyone before and I had driven her away. I felt really bad about that.

On the other hand, I felt good about being alive. I needed to find a way of helping her without becoming dead. I needed to proceed with caution, I needed an element of surprise and I needed information. Problem was, caution was difficult, surprise was almost impossible, and I had no idea what was going on.

In the wee hours, I still couldn't fall asleep and decided this was the perfect time to get some intel and still walk away in one piece.

I easily found the basement door this time and even avoided making new footprints on the tower floor. I knew the staircase much better this time, and the carpet at the bottom didn't surprise me anymore. This time, I noticed paintings of rural summer scenes on the corridor walls, which seemed totally out of place. It was as if someone tried to decorate hell in a nice, cozy way.

I went to Dr. Frankenstein's laboratory first, to see if he was there. The room was unlit and totally eerie. Using the light from my phone's screen, I took a closer look at the objects that hung from the ceiling. To my horror, I saw they were all corpses. They all seemed male, they were completely dried and they stared at me in a most impolite way. There were five of them. They looked a bit like Egyptian mummies, except they were naked. It seemed their reproductive organs had been cut off at some point, so I could assume some kind of sexual background for whatever was going on here. I tried not to throw up. I had to get things done as quickly as possible. Problem was, I had no idea what to get done.

It turned out, that particular problem was solved for me. I could hear someone coming down the corridor and I assumed it would be André the Giant himself. That probably wasn't his name, it just came to my mind. I quickly hid in a dark corner near the door, and tried not to shiver too loudly.

I watched in horror as the not-so gentle giant took one of the corpses from its hook and put it onto a workbench. He hummed happily as he started working on it in some way I that really didn't want to know anything about. At least he wasn't humming Fee, Fie, Fo, Fum. I used the opportunity to sneak out of his lovely workroom, ran down the corridor, up the stairs and into my not so safe hiding place.

When daylight came, I went up to the lantern room to take a look through the mostly frozen window panes. The snow storm suddenly didn't seem that bad anymore. Compared to the basement, it seemed like very beautiful scenery that just beckoned me to take a nice, leisurely walk as fast and as far from the tower as possible.

I quickly packed my things, which didn't take long, as I had almost no provisions left. That wouldn't make my trip easier, but it didn't matter. Anything was better than this. Yes, there was a woman who needed help. No, I wasn't going to be the one who would provide it. Others had tried, some of whom probably now hung from a ceiling with their junk cut off, and it seemed a good idea to avoid following their example.

My belongings packed, I stumbled down the winding main staircase, already dreading the storm and the cold outside. Plus, I noticed my whole body was just exhausted. After too many almost sleepless nights, my mind wasn't in any better shape. Still, just a quick thought of hanging mummies generated enough adrenaline to keep me going.

I opened the tower's entrance door and expected a wall of coldness and biting wind. Yes, that was what I got, but it wasn't nearly as bad as I expected. Either the storm had calmed down or the things I had seen downstairs had altered my perception about bad conditions.