Lighthouse is a production of I Heart Radio and Bamford Productions. The man in the Hat had a name. It took some time, but after I witnessed the vision of his death, I returned home and began to research who he was. Spurred by his tragic demise, I wanted to get to the bottom of why he was there, and perhaps see if there was anything I could do to help him. He may have haunted my childhood, but if I could ease his suffering in any way and release the darkness's hold on him, perhaps I could do the same for Leny. I wasn't there for her as I should have been in life, but perhaps in death I could change that. Record Keeping wasn't a forte in the early days of the Lighthouse, apparently, but with some diligent work and persistence with bureaucracy at town Hall, I was able to find him. The man in the hat had a name, and his name was Alexander Blythe Alexander worked for my father his family before my father was born. When the Hollises built Lighthouse on the bluff, taking over the land that the lighthousekeeper lived on, They also built a small apartment within the lighthouse itself. While the lighthouse was still in operation, the keeper also acted as the groundsman for the property. Alexander Blythe was one such groundsman. He worked hard for the Hollis family for a little over a year, his family living in the modest apartment in the lighthouse. From what I could find, he was a good, honest worker who loved his job and his family. The Hollises seemed to like him as well. According to the newspaper reports I found, he unexpectedly sent his young daughter away to visit his brother one summer's day. Later, on that night, he murdered his wife and then took his own life. I thought back to the photo of him Leani and I found all those years ago within the dark room. It was dated nineteen twenty nine, the same year he hung himself inside the lighthouse. Who knew how long he had known about the darkness within the house before he had no choice but to do what he did when that photo was taken. Was his mind already made up? After I saw the man in the hats death, I did not see him again outside of lighthouse for some time, perhaps because I had learned his fate, or because I knew of his history. Now he stayed away and gave me a bit of peace for once. But when he did appear again, it was to take everything from me. But that came later. Before that came something else. Lighthouse, Chapter eight, two thousand and one. I left Lighthouse on that day after my sister's suicide and seeing the death of the man in the Hat, knowing full well that I would have to return. My mother needed help. Confined to a wheelchair and addicted to the bottle, she was unable to do much for herself. Lighthouse was big, too big for two people when my sister was still alive, and now that she was gone, its vastness was going to be lonely for my mother. We hadn't spoken much since she said such hurtful things to me, but I still wanted to help as best I could. Using what little extra money I had, I hired an aid for her. At first, she visited my mother only twice a week, taking care of essentials and whatever odds and ends needed to be done around the house. But as the years were on and my mother became less and less capable, the aid became a full time companion for her. When the sensury turned into the year two thousand, my mother became ill. We thought it was a simple cold at first when the aid called me during a weekly check in, but as the weeks were on and she didn't get any better, it turned into something much more serious. Her years of drinking and neglecting her own health had taken its toll on her. My mother was dying. Her kidneys were failing, and because of the condition of her body and her age, replacement was not an option. The full time aid turned into a living nurse as she required constant care. I wanted to visit, but any time the subject was brought up, my mother refused me. The nurse thought it was just the pain and agony of her predicament and treatments, but I knew that wasn't the case. My mother just did not want to see me. Of course, I was sad and heartbroken about did the spider strained relationship. She was still my mother and I loved her, But deep inside, a part of me was thankful, thankful that I didn't have to return to Lighthouse to face its ghosts, and thankful that once she was gone, I would have nothing tying me there and truly wouldn't have to go back ever again. I hated myself for thinking that. In the early months of two thousand one, my mother took a turn for the worse. She was put on hospice care, and though she remained steadfast on not wanting me there, I had to see her say goodbye. I never got a chance to do so for Leny, and I regretted that every day I wouldn't make the same steak for my mother. Sarah, the living nurse, met me outside when I arrived, a welcome side compared to what usually greeted me. After only speaking with her over the phone for a few months, it was nice to finally meet her in person. Are you hungry, she asked, making her way toward the kitchen. I was just about to make some lunch, and I'd be happy to make some for you, I told her. I was starved and thankful for the invitation. As it turned out, Sarah made a delicious tomato soup complimented by grilled cheese sandwiches. My mother couldn't handle solids anymore, she explained, so it was mostly soup to keep up her strength, while the sandwiches were solely for us. We ate mostly in silence for a bit until Sarah got a strange look on her face. Can I ask you something? She said, looking unsure of herself. Of course, I told her as I put my sandwich down, sensing what she was about to say. This is going to sound silly. Have you ever seen anything in this house? I mean, I was unsure of how much or little to tell her. With my mother on her final days, maybe even hours, I didn't want to send this poor girl screaming from the house. Let's just say that Lighthouse has seen its share of inhabitants over the years, some of which didn't leave. She's mile nodded and laughed a little. Again. I've been around death long enough not to be surprised by much, she said, but sometimes this house surprises me. I like your mom, but I'll be glad to be gone. Nothing more needed to be said, an unspoken agreement placed between us. I hoped for her sake that Lighthouse did not take a hold of her like it did most others, and that she could leave the place soon. Sarah cleaned up her dirty plates and went to go check on my mother. I needed to brace myself for seeing her, so I went outside for a quick walk around the grounds, Needing a bit of fresh air. It was nice out there, different than the stuffy feeling within the walls of the house. I walked toward the bluff itself, the ocean looking strikingly gorgeous that day. With the lighthouse off to my right, the view looked like a postcard. I looked up towards the beacon, hoping I would not see it light up during my stay, anxious to stay far far away at this time. Around on the opposite end of the bluff. Standing on the other side of the lighthouse was the apparition of the sailor I sometimes saw wandering the grounds. I only ever had one bad encounter with him, when I got too close to him as a child, and he bellowed like a roaring ocean. He mostly kept to himself, staring off to sea, much like he was doing now. The sunlight shone through him, giving off the illusion that he was glowing. He looked almost peaceful, as if an eternity spent tied here was of no bother to him. He turned to look toward me, and the serenity was ruined by the appearance of the gaping hole where his right eye used to be. Though uncommon on the east coast. I silently prayed for an earthquake to loosen the ground around the bluff, sending both the lighthouse and him sprawling into the ocean, never to be seen again. I was brought out of my day dream by Sarah, hearing a call from me back from the house. My mother was likely awake waiting for me. Back inside, Sarah was taking care of some laundry and directed me toward my mother's room. As I ascended to the second story, it dawned on me that I hadn't been in my parents room for a long long time, since I was a little girl. Heading there made me feel like I was getting in trouble in a way I was. My mother, even on her deathbed, was sure to tell me how much she didn't care to see me. I reached the top and turned the corner to the long hallway where her room was located. Even outside the doorway, I could hear the various apparatuses inside keeping her alive. When I turned the knob and opened the door, I was taken back by just how many machines were in there and how little the woman in the bed resembled my mother. Dominated on each side by large medical equipment. My mother looked small and fragile, tucked into the bed. Her skin was sickly yellow, and her facial features looked sunken. Her eyes were open, looking in my direction, but I was unsure if she actually saw me. I carefully made my way to her bedside, trying not to trip over any of the assorted wires on the floor. Pulling over a chair to sit next to her, I faltered before reaching out to grab her hand. It was like holding onto a skeleton, nothing left but skin and bone. She turned to look at me, and for the first time I entered the room, it seemed like she truly saw me. Her grip tightened in my hand and tears welled up in her eyes, catching me by surprise. It was a very rare show of affection. Tera she managed to say, her voice a raspy whisper of what it once was. I'm so glad you came. The tears came from me as years of pent up emotion released in that instant. Hi, Mum, I said, holding her hand tighter. I'm so happy to see you. She smiled at me, before the happiness in her eyes became sad. There was already a gauntlet of emotions I was running through at the moment, all of which were unexpected, so I wasn't sure what had happened. Instead of asking, I leaned in to hug her, the type of embrace I had not enjoyed with my mother for many years. She returned it as best she could, and she cried in my ear. I'm so sorry, she whispered, holding me tight, so very sorry. Confused, I moved back to look at her and asked her what she meant for everything. She replied, for pushing you away, for treating you so poorly. It's okay, I told her, completely taken by surprise by this admission. I wasn't the best daughter to you. It wasn't that, she assured me, not at all. I was trying to protect you. I wasn't sure what she meant by that, and it rendered me speechless for a few moments. Protect me, I asked, from what the house from the darkness that lives here, Because it's coming for me next. Lighthouse will return after these messages, and now back to Lighthouse. Not once, in all my years living at Lighthouse or even after, did my mother ever acknowledge the darkness that called it home. Not once did she ever let on that she believed my sister or my cries for help or safety from the man in the hat, or the maid, or even the body hanging in the tree. I don't know when that changed or how long she even was aware of the things going on here, but it was surprising to hear her admit it. But when she was laying on her deathbed, my mother told me things she had wanted to for years but never had the courage to. Despite her flaws and her own shortcomings, my mother really was trying to save me. She didn't let on as to when she first noticed the darkness and what it was doing, but she was aware. For her, it wasn't the man in the hat that haunted her, but rather the servant that I often saw in the spare bedrooms upstairs, and the maid from the kitchen. They would appear to her when she was alone and most vulnerable. She tried to ignore the most times, avoiding looking in the direction, but sometimes she couldn't help herself. They both taunted her in their own unique ways. She told me she would sometimes check on us at night while we were asleep in our beds, and one of the two specters would often be by our side, leering at us like a predator eyeing its prey. Other times they would simply stand in the darkness, watching her with wide eyes. She admitted that the maid was the worst, as the blood streaming from her eyes gave off a ghastly appearance that was too much to handle. She even heard whispers in the dark of the night, especially when lying in her own bed sleeping next to our father mother. She never knew for sure if he was talking back to them, but it terrified her all the same. At first, she believed it was manageable. She loved her family and her husband, and she thought she could keep it all at bay because of our strong family bond. The first time my father hit her was when she realized how wrong she was. By that point, it was too late. They had spent most of the inheritance money on paying off debts and were stuck with nowhere else to go. She did her best to keep my father's ire off of us and focused on her, and for the most part, she did a good job. But knowing that she spent years directing his rage in her own direction so my sister and I would be safe from it was almost too much. To bear. She told me that she kept that up for as long as she could, but as it began to take its toll on her, she turned to drinking. She had watched it consume my father, much like the darkness had, but she couldn't help herself. It helped dull the pain and take away her bad thoughts. She had no idea how caught up in it she became. The night my father went mad and Lini had to kill him was the night my mother knew we were cursed, cursed with the darkness and the burden of Lighthouse. She was stubborn. Though Lighthouse was her home, it was supposed to be her new beginning, our new beginning. She would stay and defend it as long as she could, keeping the darkness at bay for as long as possible. And she knew that Lini was trapped. To her allegiance to Abigail and the fact that she had killed our father. Told my mother that a part of the darkness had already worked its way inside of her. I was different. She saw that I had fought back against the darkness, unconsciously or not. Ever since we moved into that house, I still had light in my soul and my mother recognized that she wanted to get me away from the house, needed me to be safe, because in her eyes, I was the only one of us that still had a chance of surviving the darkness. She did the one thing that she felt she had to do in order to save me. She pushed me away. Looking back on everything, it made perfect sense. Her constant coldness towards me, or berating of my actions when we did speak, did create a distance between us, effectively breaking down our relationship. I had admitted as much already that the distance between my mother and I had been a reason I kept away from Lighthouse all those years, but learning that it was intentional on her part, that it was not out of hate but out of love, broke my heart. I spent years mad at her for treating me that way. If we had only talked sooner, tried to bridge that gap between us, than maybe, just maybe I could have saved everyone a lot of heartbreak in the long run. Maybe I could have saved my sister. Now I could have even saved my mother. She told me not to think of it that way, told me that the past was the past, and while she did regret hurting me, she didn't regret keeping me safe, and now, as she lay dying in front of me, she wanted me to know the truth before the end came. I wanted to take her from this place, take her somewhere else so she didn't have to die in the place that had ruined our family and consumed her soul, but she refused. She was stubborn. She still saw Linie's ghost within the house, and she didn't want to leave her alone. She also had her own private battle with the darkness at the heart of Lighthouse, one I had never known about, and she wanted to fight it until her dying breath, and perhaps even in death, she could keep it at bay for some one else. I loved my mother more in that moment than I ever had before. It radiated off of me, and I knew she could feel it. She looked alive again, full of life and ready to face the world, but that soon more off and she grew weak again. She kissed my hand and told me she needed to rest. She was tired, but she asked me to come back later. I didn't want to leave her side, especially after everything she revealed. Sarah came into the room, declaring that it was time for my mother's medication. She escorted me out so she could do her job, and thus I was left alone in the hallways of lighthouse yet again. The rest of the evening was fairly uneventful. Over dinner, Sarah continued to fill me in on my mother's condition. I was polite, engaging in the small talk to make conversation with the woman who had taken care of my mother over the last few months, but I wasn't invested in what she had to say. I was too busy thinking about my mother and her revelations. I went to see her again that evening, but she was still too weak to talk again. With nothing else to do, I decided to turn in for the night. I felt strange to be back in my old room yet again, but thankfully I managed to fall asleep fairly quickly. I awoke in the middle of the night to a light filling my room. I didn't have to open my eyes to know what it was that sleep beacon of the lighthouse shining bright once again. Last time I felt it call out to me, but this time I felt like something was wrong. An uneasy feeling sat on my chest and it worried me. I sat up, looking around for any sign of trouble, but found nothing. My ears perked up as I heard some sort of mournful cry. My younger self would have just thrown the blanket over my head, wishing the night away, But now, as a grown woman who had seen and had enough of what the house had to offer, I wasn't going to back down. I got up from the bed, throwing on a pair of slippers, and opened my door. The hallway was dark and quiet, the only light coming from the phantom lighthouse behind me. There was nothing in sight here either, but I did notice that the door to my mother's room was ajar. I heard a gentle sob again and realized it was coming from that direction. I sprinted down the hall toward her room and threw open the door. My mother's room was dark, almost too dark. She laid still in her bed, her eyes wide open, as if fixated on the ceiling. Another cry emanated from her throat, and I thought she might be dreaming. But as my eyes adjusted to the blackness of the room, I could see that we were not alone. It blended in at first, but now I could see the different shades of darkness hovering over my mother. It was the shadowy thing. I watched as it bulged from the wall behind her bed, stretching it to unheard of proportions. As it disengaged itself from it, It made a sickening sound as it did so, the wall snapping back into place like an elastic band. It's nebulous shapes straddled her, dark extensions of itself acting as arms and legs, holding her down. Her already fragile body couldn't do much to struggle against it. It leaned in close the place where its mouth should have been, trying to draw in her final breaths. Her body seized beneath it. I ran to her side and tried to push it off, anger rising inside me, but my hands went right through it. It looked in my direction and one of its limbs lashed out at me, striking me in the chest, knocking me to the floor. I tried to regain my footing, but it held me down. It turned back to my mother and sucked in again, as if to take what little life she had left in her Again, her body seized, convulsive under its spell. I struggled to get up, but its strength was too much for me to fight against. I tried and I tried, but I could do nothing but watch, and that's exactly what it wanted me to do, to watch as it took my mother from me, just as it had taken the rest of my family. The shadowy thing was enjoying this. As she drifted away towards her final sleep. My mother managed to look at me and show one last feat of strength to say three small words, I love you. This enraged the shadowy thing as it went in again, covering her face completely, pulling the last breath from her chest. Her body spasm for only a moment, her back arching upwards before dropping back to the bed. She was gone. Sated and satisfied, the shadow let go of her and turned back to me. I still struggled beneath its limbs, the pressure pushing down on me. There was no clear face to see within its darkness, but there was an impression of something there, some sentience that knew exactly what it was doing. If I didn't know any better, I would say it was smiling at me with spring voices filled my ears, becoming so loud that they were deafening within the small confines of the room. The shadow thrived off of them, growing larger by the second a creature of mighty proportions. It coiled more limbs around my body, squeezing the air from my lungs, toying with me. The nebulous shape where its face should have been continued to smile as it came for me. Right before everything went black. Lighthouse were returned after a word from our sponsors, and now Lighthouse continues. The next thing I remembered, it was the next morning, and I was in a place I didn't expect. I was in the lighthouse, not in the small apartment I had seen during my previous visit, but outside on the balcony area that surrounded the window panes where the beacon sat. I had no recollection of how I got there or why I was even there, and that scared me. As the sun rose over the ocean, I tried to piece together what had happened the day before, my mother confiding in me being awakened in the night by the light, and the shadowy thing taking the last of my mother's life. My mother was dead, another victim of Lighthouse's darkness. I stood my legs wobbily and leaned against the balcony's railing as I looked out over the ocean. I remembered, this is where my sister had died, where she had thrown herself to her death on the rocks below. A shudder ran through me. Not wanting to think about that, I turned to leave to find my way back down. When I caught my reflection in the glass. I looked lost, broken, even, but somehow younger. A strand of hair dangled in front of my face, and I went to move it away, when I realized my reflection did not follow suit. Instead, it just stood there, staring at me. It dawned on me then that this was not my reflection. It was Lini. Lini's ghost watched me from within the lighthouse, standing guard next to the beacon. She watched me as I found the doorway back inside and went to her. Lenie. I asked, hoping for some kind of response, Lenie, why am I here? She smiled sadly at me, still clinging onto that teddy bear. I didn't say a word. She merely continued to stare, our eyes locked together. Eventually, I sat, unable to stand any longer, but not wanting to leave her. She may have been gone, but at least right now, in some way, we were able to enjoy each other's company, a bright spot in a long line of terrible ones. I don't know how long we stood like that, simply watching each other, waiting for the other to move. The sun moved across the sky, and when it sat overhead, Leonie began to slowly fade. The fainter she grew, the more sad she became, as if there was something she wanted to do but was unable to. Just before she faded from view completely, she lifted her free hand and pointed toward a cabinet beneath the beacon itself. It was latch closed, but as she faded away, I opened it. Inside was the old real to real player we had found in the dark room when we were younger. Sitting on top of it was a book of matches, a single match taken from inside. But of more interest was the circular object wrapped in a cloth sitting next to it. I removed it from its packaging and found it to be a metal canister, when containing a recording written in Leni's handwriting on a piece of tape was a single word goodbye. I left the lighthouse, real to reel and canister in hand, slowly making my way through the living quarters, down the winding staircase, and into the clearing. I went back to the house to find Sarah leaning over my mother, tears in her eyes. She apologized for my loss and told me if I wanted, she would begin to make arrangements for her instead. I thanked her for all her hard work these past few months, but that she needed to leave immediately. I didn't want Lighthouse to take a hold of her too. She left, and I sat with my mother's corpse, thinking back on the previous evening. Lighthouse had been fed. It's hunger sated for now, but I knew it was only a matter of time before it needed to claim another soul. But this time things would be different. This time, the only thing left for it was me. With my mother gone, I was now the sole owner of Lighthouse. It's fate was mine and mine alone to decide. A stronger woman would have had it torn down, leveling the land, making sure nothing was built there ever again. But not me. I prove vindictive. Over the years, Lighthouse had taken so much from me, had ruined my family and our life. It was time for me to pay that back in kind. I was content to make it suffer, just as it had done to for so long. I was going to walk out of Lighthouse later that day and leave it to rot. No more would a living soul occupy its halls, giving it a chance to prey on them. Instead, it would sit empty and alone on the bluff, forgotten and suffering. As long as I had life to live, I meant to leave Lighthouse alone to wither away and die. And for almost twenty years, that is exactly what I did. And then the Man in the Hat came back for me. Lighthouse is a production of I Heart Radio and Bamford Productions. Chapter eight featured the voice of Ali Trash, written and directed by Jeff Heimbug Audio Engineering, an original musical score by Corey Celeste. Production assistance by Alex Gona. Executive produced by Holly Fry. Questions comments, you can reach us at The Man in the Hat is Watching at gmail dot com. Thank you for listening.

Lighthouse is a production of I Heart Radio and Bamford Productions. The man in the Hat had a name. It took some time, but after I witnessed the vision of his death, I returned home and began to research who he was. Spurred by his tragic demise, I wanted to get to the bottom of why he was there, and perhaps see if there was anything I could do to help him. He may have haunted my childhood, but if I could ease his suffering in any way and release the darkness's hold on him, perhaps I could do the same for Leny. I wasn't there for her as I should have been in life, but perhaps in death I could change that. Record Keeping wasn't a forte in the early days of the Lighthouse, apparently, but with some diligent work and persistence with bureaucracy at town Hall, I was able to find him. The man in the hat had a name, and his name was Alexander Blythe Alexander worked for my father his family before my father was born. When the Hollises built Lighthouse on the bluff, taking over the land that the lighthousekeeper lived on, They also built a small apartment within the lighthouse itself. While the lighthouse was still in operation, the keeper also acted as the groundsman for the property. Alexander Blythe was one such groundsman. He worked hard for the Hollis family for a little over a year, his family living in the modest apartment in the lighthouse. From what I could find, he was a good, honest worker who loved his job and his family. The Hollises seemed to like him as well. According to the newspaper reports I found, he unexpectedly sent his young daughter away to visit his brother one summer's day. Later, on that night, he murdered his wife and then took his own life. I thought back to the photo of him Leani and I found all those years ago within the dark room. It was dated nineteen twenty nine, the same year he hung himself inside the lighthouse. Who knew how long he had known about the darkness within the house before he had no choice but to do what he did when that photo was taken. Was his mind already made up? After I saw the man in the hats death, I did not see him again outside of lighthouse for some time, perhaps because I had learned his fate, or because I knew of his history. Now he stayed away and gave me a bit of peace for once. But when he did appear again, it was to take everything from me. But that came later. Before that came something else. Lighthouse, Chapter eight, two thousand and one. I left Lighthouse on that day after my sister's suicide and seeing the death of the man in the Hat, knowing full well that I would have to return. My mother needed help. Confined to a wheelchair and addicted to the bottle, she was unable to do much for herself. Lighthouse was big, too big for two people when my sister was still alive, and now that she was gone, its vastness was going to be lonely for my mother. We hadn't spoken much since she said such hurtful things to me, but I still wanted to help as best I could. Using what little extra money I had, I hired an aid for her. At first, she visited my mother only twice a week, taking care of essentials and whatever odds and ends needed to be done around the house. But as the years were on and my mother became less and less capable, the aid became a full time companion for her. When the sensury turned into the year two thousand, my mother became ill. We thought it was a simple cold at first when the aid called me during a weekly check in, but as the weeks were on and she didn't get any better, it turned into something much more serious. Her years of drinking and neglecting her own health had taken its toll on her. My mother was dying. Her kidneys were failing, and because of the condition of her body and her age, replacement was not an option. The full time aid turned into a living nurse as she required constant care. I wanted to visit, but any time the subject was brought up, my mother refused me. The nurse thought it was just the pain and agony of her predicament and treatments, but I knew that wasn't the case. My mother just did not want to see me. Of course, I was sad and heartbroken about did the spider strained relationship. She was still my mother and I loved her, But deep inside, a part of me was thankful, thankful that I didn't have to return to Lighthouse to face its ghosts, and thankful that once she was gone, I would have nothing tying me there and truly wouldn't have to go back ever again. I hated myself for thinking that. In the early months of two thousand one, my mother took a turn for the worse. She was put on hospice care, and though she remained steadfast on not wanting me there, I had to see her say goodbye. I never got a chance to do so for Leny, and I regretted that every day I wouldn't make the same steak for my mother. Sarah, the living nurse, met me outside when I arrived, a welcome side compared to what usually greeted me. After only speaking with her over the phone for a few months, it was nice to finally meet her in person. Are you hungry, she asked, making her way toward the kitchen. I was just about to make some lunch, and I'd be happy to make some for you, I told her. I was starved and thankful for the invitation. As it turned out, Sarah made a delicious tomato soup complimented by grilled cheese sandwiches. My mother couldn't handle solids anymore, she explained, so it was mostly soup to keep up her strength, while the sandwiches were solely for us. We ate mostly in silence for a bit until Sarah got a strange look on her face. Can I ask you something? She said, looking unsure of herself. Of course, I told her as I put my sandwich down, sensing what she was about to say. This is going to sound silly. Have you ever seen anything in this house? I mean, I was unsure of how much or little to tell her. With my mother on her final days, maybe even hours, I didn't want to send this poor girl screaming from the house. Let's just say that Lighthouse has seen its share of inhabitants over the years, some of which didn't leave. She's mile nodded and laughed a little. Again. I've been around death long enough not to be surprised by much, she said, but sometimes this house surprises me. I like your mom, but I'll be glad to be gone. Nothing more needed to be said, an unspoken agreement placed between us. I hoped for her sake that Lighthouse did not take a hold of her like it did most others, and that she could leave the place soon. Sarah cleaned up her dirty plates and went to go check on my mother. I needed to brace myself for seeing her, so I went outside for a quick walk around the grounds, Needing a bit of fresh air. It was nice out there, different than the stuffy feeling within the walls of the house. I walked toward the bluff itself, the ocean looking strikingly gorgeous that day. With the lighthouse off to my right, the view looked like a postcard. I looked up towards the beacon, hoping I would not see it light up during my stay, anxious to stay far far away at this time. Around on the opposite end of the bluff. Standing on the other side of the lighthouse was the apparition of the sailor I sometimes saw wandering the grounds. I only ever had one bad encounter with him, when I got too close to him as a child, and he bellowed like a roaring ocean. He mostly kept to himself, staring off to sea, much like he was doing now. The sunlight shone through him, giving off the illusion that he was glowing. He looked almost peaceful, as if an eternity spent tied here was of no bother to him. He turned to look toward me, and the serenity was ruined by the appearance of the gaping hole where his right eye used to be. Though uncommon on the east coast. I silently prayed for an earthquake to loosen the ground around the bluff, sending both the lighthouse and him sprawling into the ocean, never to be seen again. I was brought out of my day dream by Sarah, hearing a call from me back from the house. My mother was likely awake waiting for me. Back inside, Sarah was taking care of some laundry and directed me toward my mother's room. As I ascended to the second story, it dawned on me that I hadn't been in my parents room for a long long time, since I was a little girl. Heading there made me feel like I was getting in trouble in a way I was. My mother, even on her deathbed, was sure to tell me how much she didn't care to see me. I reached the top and turned the corner to the long hallway where her room was located. Even outside the doorway, I could hear the various apparatuses inside keeping her alive. When I turned the knob and opened the door, I was taken back by just how many machines were in there and how little the woman in the bed resembled my mother. Dominated on each side by large medical equipment. My mother looked small and fragile, tucked into the bed. Her skin was sickly yellow, and her facial features looked sunken. Her eyes were open, looking in my direction, but I was unsure if she actually saw me. I carefully made my way to her bedside, trying not to trip over any of the assorted wires on the floor. Pulling over a chair to sit next to her, I faltered before reaching out to grab her hand. It was like holding onto a skeleton, nothing left but skin and bone. She turned to look at me, and for the first time I entered the room, it seemed like she truly saw me. Her grip tightened in my hand and tears welled up in her eyes, catching me by surprise. It was a very rare show of affection. Tera she managed to say, her voice a raspy whisper of what it once was. I'm so glad you came. The tears came from me as years of pent up emotion released in that instant. Hi, Mum, I said, holding her hand tighter. I'm so happy to see you. She smiled at me, before the happiness in her eyes became sad. There was already a gauntlet of emotions I was running through at the moment, all of which were unexpected, so I wasn't sure what had happened. Instead of asking, I leaned in to hug her, the type of embrace I had not enjoyed with my mother for many years. She returned it as best she could, and she cried in my ear. I'm so sorry, she whispered, holding me tight, so very sorry. Confused, I moved back to look at her and asked her what she meant for everything. She replied, for pushing you away, for treating you so poorly. It's okay, I told her, completely taken by surprise by this admission. I wasn't the best daughter to you. It wasn't that, she assured me, not at all. I was trying to protect you. I wasn't sure what she meant by that, and it rendered me speechless for a few moments. Protect me, I asked, from what the house from the darkness that lives here, Because it's coming for me next. Lighthouse will return after these messages, and now back to Lighthouse. Not once, in all my years living at Lighthouse or even after, did my mother ever acknowledge the darkness that called it home. Not once did she ever let on that she believed my sister or my cries for help or safety from the man in the hat, or the maid, or even the body hanging in the tree. I don't know when that changed or how long she even was aware of the things going on here, but it was surprising to hear her admit it. But when she was laying on her deathbed, my mother told me things she had wanted to for years but never had the courage to. Despite her flaws and her own shortcomings, my mother really was trying to save me. She didn't let on as to when she first noticed the darkness and what it was doing, but she was aware. For her, it wasn't the man in the hat that haunted her, but rather the servant that I often saw in the spare bedrooms upstairs, and the maid from the kitchen. They would appear to her when she was alone and most vulnerable. She tried to ignore the most times, avoiding looking in the direction, but sometimes she couldn't help herself. They both taunted her in their own unique ways. She told me she would sometimes check on us at night while we were asleep in our beds, and one of the two specters would often be by our side, leering at us like a predator eyeing its prey. Other times they would simply stand in the darkness, watching her with wide eyes. She admitted that the maid was the worst, as the blood streaming from her eyes gave off a ghastly appearance that was too much to handle. She even heard whispers in the dark of the night, especially when lying in her own bed sleeping next to our father mother. She never knew for sure if he was talking back to them, but it terrified her all the same. At first, she believed it was manageable. She loved her family and her husband, and she thought she could keep it all at bay because of our strong family bond. The first time my father hit her was when she realized how wrong she was. By that point, it was too late. They had spent most of the inheritance money on paying off debts and were stuck with nowhere else to go. She did her best to keep my father's ire off of us and focused on her, and for the most part, she did a good job. But knowing that she spent years directing his rage in her own direction so my sister and I would be safe from it was almost too much. To bear. She told me that she kept that up for as long as she could, but as it began to take its toll on her, she turned to drinking. She had watched it consume my father, much like the darkness had, but she couldn't help herself. It helped dull the pain and take away her bad thoughts. She had no idea how caught up in it she became. The night my father went mad and Lini had to kill him was the night my mother knew we were cursed, cursed with the darkness and the burden of Lighthouse. She was stubborn. Though Lighthouse was her home, it was supposed to be her new beginning, our new beginning. She would stay and defend it as long as she could, keeping the darkness at bay for as long as possible. And she knew that Lini was trapped. To her allegiance to Abigail and the fact that she had killed our father. Told my mother that a part of the darkness had already worked its way inside of her. I was different. She saw that I had fought back against the darkness, unconsciously or not. Ever since we moved into that house, I still had light in my soul and my mother recognized that she wanted to get me away from the house, needed me to be safe, because in her eyes, I was the only one of us that still had a chance of surviving the darkness. She did the one thing that she felt she had to do in order to save me. She pushed me away. Looking back on everything, it made perfect sense. Her constant coldness towards me, or berating of my actions when we did speak, did create a distance between us, effectively breaking down our relationship. I had admitted as much already that the distance between my mother and I had been a reason I kept away from Lighthouse all those years, but learning that it was intentional on her part, that it was not out of hate but out of love, broke my heart. I spent years mad at her for treating me that way. If we had only talked sooner, tried to bridge that gap between us, than maybe, just maybe I could have saved everyone a lot of heartbreak in the long run. Maybe I could have saved my sister. Now I could have even saved my mother. She told me not to think of it that way, told me that the past was the past, and while she did regret hurting me, she didn't regret keeping me safe, and now, as she lay dying in front of me, she wanted me to know the truth before the end came. I wanted to take her from this place, take her somewhere else so she didn't have to die in the place that had ruined our family and consumed her soul, but she refused. She was stubborn. She still saw Linie's ghost within the house, and she didn't want to leave her alone. She also had her own private battle with the darkness at the heart of Lighthouse, one I had never known about, and she wanted to fight it until her dying breath, and perhaps even in death, she could keep it at bay for some one else. I loved my mother more in that moment than I ever had before. It radiated off of me, and I knew she could feel it. She looked alive again, full of life and ready to face the world, but that soon more off and she grew weak again. She kissed my hand and told me she needed to rest. She was tired, but she asked me to come back later. I didn't want to leave her side, especially after everything she revealed. Sarah came into the room, declaring that it was time for my mother's medication. She escorted me out so she could do her job, and thus I was left alone in the hallways of lighthouse yet again. The rest of the evening was fairly uneventful. Over dinner, Sarah continued to fill me in on my mother's condition. I was polite, engaging in the small talk to make conversation with the woman who had taken care of my mother over the last few months, but I wasn't invested in what she had to say. I was too busy thinking about my mother and her revelations. I went to see her again that evening, but she was still too weak to talk again. With nothing else to do, I decided to turn in for the night. I felt strange to be back in my old room yet again, but thankfully I managed to fall asleep fairly quickly. I awoke in the middle of the night to a light filling my room. I didn't have to open my eyes to know what it was that sleep beacon of the lighthouse shining bright once again. Last time I felt it call out to me, but this time I felt like something was wrong. An uneasy feeling sat on my chest and it worried me. I sat up, looking around for any sign of trouble, but found nothing. My ears perked up as I heard some sort of mournful cry. My younger self would have just thrown the blanket over my head, wishing the night away, But now, as a grown woman who had seen and had enough of what the house had to offer, I wasn't going to back down. I got up from the bed, throwing on a pair of slippers, and opened my door. The hallway was dark and quiet, the only light coming from the phantom lighthouse behind me. There was nothing in sight here either, but I did notice that the door to my mother's room was ajar. I heard a gentle sob again and realized it was coming from that direction. I sprinted down the hall toward her room and threw open the door. My mother's room was dark, almost too dark. She laid still in her bed, her eyes wide open, as if fixated on the ceiling. Another cry emanated from her throat, and I thought she might be dreaming. But as my eyes adjusted to the blackness of the room, I could see that we were not alone. It blended in at first, but now I could see the different shades of darkness hovering over my mother. It was the shadowy thing. I watched as it bulged from the wall behind her bed, stretching it to unheard of proportions. As it disengaged itself from it, It made a sickening sound as it did so, the wall snapping back into place like an elastic band. It's nebulous shapes straddled her, dark extensions of itself acting as arms and legs, holding her down. Her already fragile body couldn't do much to struggle against it. It leaned in close the place where its mouth should have been, trying to draw in her final breaths. Her body seized beneath it. I ran to her side and tried to push it off, anger rising inside me, but my hands went right through it. It looked in my direction and one of its limbs lashed out at me, striking me in the chest, knocking me to the floor. I tried to regain my footing, but it held me down. It turned back to my mother and sucked in again, as if to take what little life she had left in her Again, her body seized, convulsive under its spell. I struggled to get up, but its strength was too much for me to fight against. I tried and I tried, but I could do nothing but watch, and that's exactly what it wanted me to do, to watch as it took my mother from me, just as it had taken the rest of my family. The shadowy thing was enjoying this. As she drifted away towards her final sleep. My mother managed to look at me and show one last feat of strength to say three small words, I love you. This enraged the shadowy thing as it went in again, covering her face completely, pulling the last breath from her chest. Her body spasm for only a moment, her back arching upwards before dropping back to the bed. She was gone. Sated and satisfied, the shadow let go of her and turned back to me. I still struggled beneath its limbs, the pressure pushing down on me. There was no clear face to see within its darkness, but there was an impression of something there, some sentience that knew exactly what it was doing. If I didn't know any better, I would say it was smiling at me with spring voices filled my ears, becoming so loud that they were deafening within the small confines of the room. The shadow thrived off of them, growing larger by the second a creature of mighty proportions. It coiled more limbs around my body, squeezing the air from my lungs, toying with me. The nebulous shape where its face should have been continued to smile as it came for me. Right before everything went black. Lighthouse were returned after a word from our sponsors, and now Lighthouse continues. The next thing I remembered, it was the next morning, and I was in a place I didn't expect. I was in the lighthouse, not in the small apartment I had seen during my previous visit, but outside on the balcony area that surrounded the window panes where the beacon sat. I had no recollection of how I got there or why I was even there, and that scared me. As the sun rose over the ocean, I tried to piece together what had happened the day before, my mother confiding in me being awakened in the night by the light, and the shadowy thing taking the last of my mother's life. My mother was dead, another victim of Lighthouse's darkness. I stood my legs wobbily and leaned against the balcony's railing as I looked out over the ocean. I remembered, this is where my sister had died, where she had thrown herself to her death on the rocks below. A shudder ran through me. Not wanting to think about that, I turned to leave to find my way back down. When I caught my reflection in the glass. I looked lost, broken, even, but somehow younger. A strand of hair dangled in front of my face, and I went to move it away, when I realized my reflection did not follow suit. Instead, it just stood there, staring at me. It dawned on me then that this was not my reflection. It was Lini. Lini's ghost watched me from within the lighthouse, standing guard next to the beacon. She watched me as I found the doorway back inside and went to her. Lenie. I asked, hoping for some kind of response, Lenie, why am I here? She smiled sadly at me, still clinging onto that teddy bear. I didn't say a word. She merely continued to stare, our eyes locked together. Eventually, I sat, unable to stand any longer, but not wanting to leave her. She may have been gone, but at least right now, in some way, we were able to enjoy each other's company, a bright spot in a long line of terrible ones. I don't know how long we stood like that, simply watching each other, waiting for the other to move. The sun moved across the sky, and when it sat overhead, Leonie began to slowly fade. The fainter she grew, the more sad she became, as if there was something she wanted to do but was unable to. Just before she faded from view completely, she lifted her free hand and pointed toward a cabinet beneath the beacon itself. It was latch closed, but as she faded away, I opened it. Inside was the old real to real player we had found in the dark room when we were younger. Sitting on top of it was a book of matches, a single match taken from inside. But of more interest was the circular object wrapped in a cloth sitting next to it. I removed it from its packaging and found it to be a metal canister, when containing a recording written in Leni's handwriting on a piece of tape was a single word goodbye. I left the lighthouse, real to reel and canister in hand, slowly making my way through the living quarters, down the winding staircase, and into the clearing. I went back to the house to find Sarah leaning over my mother, tears in her eyes. She apologized for my loss and told me if I wanted, she would begin to make arrangements for her instead. I thanked her for all her hard work these past few months, but that she needed to leave immediately. I didn't want Lighthouse to take a hold of her too. She left, and I sat with my mother's corpse, thinking back on the previous evening. Lighthouse had been fed. It's hunger sated for now, but I knew it was only a matter of time before it needed to claim another soul. But this time things would be different. This time, the only thing left for it was me. With my mother gone, I was now the sole owner of Lighthouse. It's fate was mine and mine alone to decide. A stronger woman would have had it torn down, leveling the land, making sure nothing was built there ever again. But not me. I prove vindictive. Over the years, Lighthouse had taken so much from me, had ruined my family and our life. It was time for me to pay that back in kind. I was content to make it suffer, just as it had done to for so long. I was going to walk out of Lighthouse later that day and leave it to rot. No more would a living soul occupy its halls, giving it a chance to prey on them. Instead, it would sit empty and alone on the bluff, forgotten and suffering. As long as I had life to live, I meant to leave Lighthouse alone to wither away and die. And for almost twenty years, that is exactly what I did. And then the Man in the Hat came back for me. Lighthouse is a production of I Heart Radio and Bamford Productions. Chapter eight featured the voice of Ali Trash, written and directed by Jeff Heimbug Audio Engineering, an original musical score by Corey Celeste. Production assistance by Alex Gona. Executive produced by Holly Fry. Questions comments, you can reach us at The Man in the Hat is Watching at gmail dot com. Thank you for listening.