"You are on a macadam jetty — ostensibly shipwrecked — looking out over a briny shoreline that snakes its way out into the distance before disappearing behind a limestone cliff face. Even further stands a radio tower on which a pair of nictitant red lights burn through the seaside fog in equal parts beacon and warning. You turn to your right and are confronted by the crepuscular candy cane husk of a long-forgotten lighthouse, by all accounts abandoned and forgotten. The seaside wind chills you to your waterlogged bones, and to escape the howling wind, you retreat into the abandoned lighthouse.That is, you thought it was abandoned. But out of the corner of your eye, you swear you saw a figure of a woman. Was it real? Your mind is awash with fright, yet you are also tired. So tired. What is and isn’t real is certainly up for debate, and so, reassuring yourself in your sleepy stupor, you clutch your arms around yourself, steel your resolve, and press onward, alone."