--- SEGMENTS ---
• Child by Lighthouse.
• Going Home.
• At House.
• Burning Village.
• Soldier escape.
• The Closet.
• Professor Grim.
• Alone with Granddaughter.
Child by Lighthouse - 1760, NOV 5th
"How do you kill a concept?"
- General Trio.
Waves crashed against the lighthouse crags; they were the only sound to be heard. Its salty mist sprayed frigid beads against the metal’s surface. Dark, vast, and abysmal, the ocean tides ebbed with a rage barely contained. The storm above reflected this anger. With black clouds so dense, no light could hope to pierce it. No kinder was the air, whose harsh whipping released the forgotten scent of the deep sea.
Amidst the turmoil of this infinite night, caused by storm and wave, resided a single golden light. In comparison to the absolute dark, it was the faintest of forces… Yet it pierced the nothingness regardless. As the beam gradually moved, it slowly appeared to overtake everything. From there it fragmented, dripped, and faded into the bottom of the abyss. As it faded, its dim light illuminated the waters one last time… then there was nothing.
This process repeated and would continue to repeat, so long as the lighthouse stands.
Atop the decrepit rusted railings stood a single crow. It gazed upon the shore with abnormal intensity. Unaware of the looming light, it was frightened off when struck by those golden rays. Yet, as it took off and glided silently in the night, it maintained its gaze upon its prey.
In the distance, on the coastline, stood a small child. About four or so, she stood in amazement of the lighthouse as she held her parent’s hands. She wore a red and white striped shirt, red pants, and a red ushanka with fuzzy white fur on the forehead. On its side dangled strings ending in fuzzy white orbs. To her left was her mother, who had long black hair, wore a lengthy white dress, and a face that wasn't directly visible to the child. On her right stood her father, wearing all black and appearing almost like a shadowy silhouette this night; from the perspective of the child.
Going Home - 1760, NOV 5th
Enchanted by the lighthouse, the child was trapped in that moment. The beauty of the rotating golden beam, the soft crashing of the waves against crumbling sand, and the cold brine in the air had all captivated her. That was, until her mother started to tug on her arm.
Walking away from the lighthouse and the storm, the family ascended a nearby hill. Except for the worn trail, made of sand and grass, cattails surrounded the slope as far as the eye could see. As the father gave his daughter a reluctant piggyback ride, she saw these boundless plants sway gently in the breeze. Turning her gaze upward, as her little body bounced up and down with her father’s every step, she saw stars even more numerous than the fuzzy flowers around her.
The mother stretched her arms far behind her back, hands clasped together, as she raised her legs high with each step. Amused by her daughters bobbing head, she laughed quietly to herself as she skipped ahead of the pair. Reaching the summit of the hill, the family saw the familiar ancient tree surrounded by fireflies. Their little golden lights were enough to draw the eyes of the small girl down. Her face quickly revealed her amazement as she was taken in by the soft yellow-orange glow.
By the time the fireflies left, the family stood before the fishing village they called home. It was a small little place, on a tiny isolated island. Here a slight breeze carried the scent of freshly cooked fish and pies. There were only two short wooden docks, with a pair of fishermen inaudibly chatting in the distance. Various hand-crafted lanterns illuminated those distant docks; rattling and clinking gently in the wind. Then there was the core of the town comprised of 13 or so buildings; including a minuscule market. Finally, on the opposite side of the docks was a medium sized building that appeared to be a factory of some kind. Nearby stood a massive silo with a unique picture on its front; of a man whose hair was shaped like a bull’s horns. Most importantly, in the distance opposite to them, the little girl could see their house on the hill.
Flailing with excitement, the little girl couldn’t stop wiggling about as she saw her home in the distance. The father had to take cautious steps while the mother walked ahead with amused glee. Despite the energy of the family, the little village was a calm peaceful site. Especially this night, where the breeze was gentle, and stars shone bright. The kind of tranquil night that tends to keep people out a few moments longer. One of which, a local painter here to find inspiration. Staring at his work, he could only feel disappointment. By his standards, he had tried and failed to capture the essence of the lighthouse and this little nautical village. Lowering his head with a sigh, he noticed the small child stare wide eyed at his painting.
He flashed a faint smile at her, but couldn’t really put his whole heart into it. Wanting to get a longer look at the painting, the little girl nearly fell off her dad’s back. The painter couldn’t help but gasp as she tumbled backwards, yet she did not fall. Dangling on her father’s back with a big goofy smile, the painter couldn’t help but smile genuinely too. As they left, he turned back to his painting and, feeling a bit better, picked up his brush.
Pulling herself up, the child looked at the approaching hill, only for her to catch sight of someone out of the corner of her eye. A mysterious man, dressed yellow, approached the father and little girl; behind him, the mom crossed her arms. The kid couldn’t make out what her dad and the stranger were talking about, but the man pointed at the shiny bracelet, with the numbers, on his wrist. Plus, he was looking rather distressed.
The mother started to tap her foot and the man suddenly left in a hurry. Turning after the man, the father raised his arm up and the little girl could see his fancy numbers bracelet too. Shaking her head, the mom walked up the second hill and the dad soon followed. Moments passed slowly as they drifted past the aquamarine grass, violet night sky, and two trees; one thin with lush verdant leaves and the other blackened, dead, and with curled willowy branches. Soon, they approached the ivory front door of their red brick house.
At House - 1760, NOV 5th
Entering their home, the father placed the child down while the mother closed the door. Noticing it closed, he walked over to her anxiously. They talked out of earshot, but the little girl could see her mother getting visibly irritated; especially when dad point to the numbers on his bracelet. Despite the mother’s displeasure, eventually they both hugged. Then the dad walked over to his little girl. Small tufts of blonde hair were exposed by the father’s kiss to her forehead. As he stood up, she gave him the tightest hug her little arms could muster. With a turn towards the door, he slowly made his way out. Waving goodbye to his family until he was completely out of sight.
The kid didn’t know why her dad had to leave, but all the color of the world seemed to fade with him as he went. Instinctively, she reached out after him. But, knowing it was too late, her eyes started to fill with tears. Quick to react, the mother picked up her teary-eyed daughter and gave her a big hug. Knowing exactly what to do, she led them both into the kitchen. With the little girl distracted by the shiny instruments scattered about, the mom had enough time to pull out a box of "Make and Bake" cookies.
Recognizing the snack, the gift from the gods, the kid was absolutely delighted! Pulling out a hand-stitched child’s apron, with a lighthouse pattern on it, the mom tied it onto her bouncy little girl. With the apron barely staying on, the kid continued to bounce up and down in anticipation as the mom grabbed her tools. Grabbing the bowl, some ingredients, and the electric mixer, mom began to work.
Meanwhile, the child jumped about; trying to see over the counter. It wasn’t until mom moved away did the child notice the nearby red step stool. Struggling to drag it over to the counter, the girl climbed the tall wooden fixture, and stood before the electric mixer. There was no hesitation, she pressed the first shiny button she saw. There was a foreboding "VRRRMMMMM" and a moment later cookie dough was splattered everywhere. The kid was so startled that she nearly fell off her stool. However, the scare was short lived, as she had now discovered the joy of this fun new toy. She pressed the button again.
Cookie dough went everywhere, and would have continued to go everywhere, had the mixer not suddenly stopped working. Confused as to why it stopped, the child decided it easier to play in the bowl with her bare hands instead… She did not notice her mom standing behind her, holding the unplugged cord. Unfortunately, it did not take long to notice, as the child turned around slowly in fear. Standing close to the daughter, the mom slid her finger through a nearby puddle of cookie dough. As she slowly raised her finger, the kid started to slightly tremble.
Flicking the dough onto the child nose, the mom laughed softly as the kid was left stunned. Smiling, the kid turned around to the bowl and grabbed a handful of cookie dough. This was war! She flung it towards her mother. Who dodged it easily and counterattacked with some scooped off the table. However, the child ducked down in the nick of time.
This food war continued well into dusk as the kitchen atmosphere drifted into a nightly blue. Eventually, a warm heat emitted from the oven as a small tray of three cookies was placed inside. With the oven closed, the mom sat next to the fatigued child; who was half asleep before the oven door. The kitchen was covered from ceiling to floor in a sticky cookie dough mess and its aroma had spread across the entire house. Whilst in the midst of a short laugh, the child began to yawn. She rubbed her eyes as the mom picked her up and carried her out of the kitchen. Taking a left at the entrance, and passing the living room, they headed towards a lighthouse themed door with a porthole window at its center. Along the way they passed some drawings, the mom had yet to notice, on the base of the wall. It was a crude art of the kid, her favorite lighthouse, and her parents; all proudly done in crayon.
Also, on the walls were some portraits; such as the family, the lighthouse, an old man with hair like bull horns, and other things. Reaching the door, the mom headed inside and flicked the lights on. This was the little girl’s room and it clearly showed. Everything was lighthouse themed. The bed sheets, the rug, the nearby toy chest, drawings that hung on the wall, everything... Everything except for the solid black closet that stood directly opposite of the entrance; with only the sole window of the room in-between.
Bedtime - 1760, NOV 5th
Opposite to the window, was that which stood out most within this bedroom. A giant painting of a lighthouse, on the wall adjacent to the bed; with a tiny lighthouse night light illuminating it nearby. The mom placed the tired child onto the bed, tucked her in, and sat down with a green fairytale book in her hand.
As she began to read, the child could see pictures of the weird creepy monster and streetlamp themed grim reaper residing on its pages. It wasn’t long after that did the child began to drift into the world of dreams.
Her mind floated about the room. Over her bed, the toy chest, the lighthouse themed nightlight, the disturbing Jackalope doll in a black tux, and then to the giant lighthouse painting that rested on the wall. She floated over to the window where a silhouetted creature hid. As her mind zoomed in on this entity the window warped, the wood twisted, and the metal splintered.
The creature appeared, it was a crow with a diagonal eye that glowed bright red and contained multiple rings outside its pupil. It had a long, saw tooth filled, yellow beak that spun into a deep spiral; making it impossible to open. This image startled the child awake, and in an instant, she turned to the comfort of the lighthouse wall… Right before it exploded.
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