# **37. "The Phantom Lighthouse of Blackshore Bay" – The Tale of the Light That Never Fades**
Along the jagged coast of Northumberland, where cliffs fall sharply into the restless North Sea, lies **Blackshore Bay** — a place fishermen avoid after dusk.
It is said that a lighthouse once stood there, built in the 17th century, but now it is nothing more than ruins.
Yet at night, sailors swear they can see a light burning atop the cliffs, cutting through the fog like a silver blade.
Local legends claim that **the Phantom Lighthouse is manned by no living soul** — its keeper long dead, yet its light never extinguishes.
---
## **I — Arrival of the Historian**
In 1928, **Margaret Halston**, a historian of maritime structures, arrived in the nearby village to study shipwrecks and lighthouses.
Margaret was rational, scholarly, and utterly skeptical of supernatural tales.
Villagers, however, spoke in hushed tones:
— If you see the light moving across the bay at midnight, don’t approach.
— And if you hear the bell ringing, run, or it will follow you home.
Margaret only smiled. “Old wives’ tales,” she thought.
---
## **II — First Night at Blackshore Bay**
The first night, Margaret set up camp near the cliff edge, binoculars in hand.
A dense fog rolled in from the sea, curling around rocks and brambles like living fingers.
She noticed a faint glow atop the cliffs — a lighthouse beam swinging slowly, methodically, yet she knew no structure remained there.
Suddenly, a bell toll echoed, though no bell tower existed.
Margaret froze.
The sound was low, resonant, almost mournful, as if mourning centuries of shipwrecked sailors.
---
## **III — The Phantom Keeper Appears**
As the fog thickened, she saw a figure emerge atop the cliffs.
A man in a long coat, hat low over his eyes, holding a lantern.
But when Margaret focused, she realized: his feet did not touch the ground. He hovered slightly, as if supported by the fog itself.
The lantern’s glow cast shadows across the mist, revealing a face pale and hollow — eyes like deep pools of shadow.
Margaret felt her breath catch.
The figure raised a hand, not to wave, but in warning.
A voice came, not in words, but in thought:
**“Do not linger… the light does not forgive.”**
---
## **IV — Drawn Into the Lighthouse**
Compelled by curiosity, Margaret climbed the narrow path toward the cliffs.
The fog thickened around her, growing heavier with each step.
When she reached the ruins, she found a spiral staircase intact, winding upward impossibly, as if rebuilt by some unseen hand.
As she ascended, the lantern-wielding figure followed silently, its presence pressing against her mind.
Each step felt slower than the last, her sense of time stretching unnaturally.
Above her, the faint glow of the Phantom Lighthouse pulsed rhythmically — a heartbeat of light.
---
## **V — The Bell of the Lost**
At the top, Margaret found the light chamber fully intact, despite centuries of ruin below.
Inside, a massive bell hung from a rusted beam.
The figure gestured toward it.
When Margaret touched the bell, she saw visions flash before her eyes:
* Shipwrecks beneath black waves
* Sailors screaming in vain, their cries trapped in fog
* Past keepers, doomed to tend the light forever
The bell tolled with a sound that resonated in her bones.
She realized the lighthouse **was alive**, feeding on memory and fear, and that the Keeper was its eternal sentinel.
---
## **VI — Escape or Absorption**
Margaret tried to descend, but the staircase twisted unnaturally, looping back upward.
The figure floated beside her silently.
The light now shone directly into her mind, revealing her fears and regrets, as if cataloging them.
A thought echoed in her head:
**“Those who ascend do not leave… unless they give themselves entirely.”**
She understood — if she stayed too long, she would become part of the lighthouse’s crew, another shadow tethered to the fog.
With desperate effort, Margaret tore her gaze away from the light, stumbling down the stairs.
The fog outside swallowed her path, and she ran blindly until the cliffs opened onto the empty beach.
When she looked back, the lighthouse’s glow faded into the mist — but she knew it still existed, waiting.
---
## **VII — Aftermath**
Margaret never returned to Blackshore Bay.
Yet in her dreams, she still hears the bell tolling, sees the faint lantern glow, and feels the weight of the Keeper’s gaze.
She wrote in her journal one sentence, repeatedly:
> “The lighthouse is eternal.
> Its light forgives nothing.
> And its Keeper never sleeps.”
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