u/Forsaken_Author_7834

so this is called LIGHTS OUT, it's basically a quiet place but instead of sound the monsters are attracted to light, and the world is pitch black, i based the monsters off moths since yk they're attracted to light, anyway lmk what you think (I'm not good at writing so excuse the grammar and errors) I've got more so this is just a little sample also it didn't copy the italicized so whenever there's reading or a description it's supposed to be italicized

GORE WARNING

DAY 106

I wander around the dead city, what used to be loud, filled with lights and blaring signs, now an empty and dark vestige, i can barely see my own hands in front of me, I reach in my pocket feeling the cold metal of my lighter, i could use it, after all it'd be dim enough to not attract anything far, though the light wouldn't be enough to see more than five feet ahead of me, eh it's not worth the risk or the fluid, especially when this is just a simple scavenge, still I'd give anything for just a quick flash. CRUNCH damn it!, it was just some trash, relax sam. I wandered for what felt like miles, but without seeing much of anything, who knows how far, I stopped when I could just barely make out some sort of door, though I only saw it because I nearly bumped right into it, I listened quietly… nothing, deeming it safe i flicked my lighter FLKK a quick light illuminated a sign above the door, it was a general store. Another flick revealed shelves of food, toiletries, and cleaning supplies, but nothing useful, except for some gas masks scattered on the floor, i picked one up, inspecting its filter, seems like it'd fit my mask, the filter was in decent condition, I'd estimate a few hours of functionality, these cheap civilian masks had no way of indicating the time left on filters, but beggars can't be choosers. After following my trail of neon tape i finally reached my hideout, neon colors are easier to see, and they don't produce actual light, so it's my only way of guidance. My hideout isn't anything fancy, just an RV with the windows covered and a makeshift door made from old metal sheets, light is safe when it's enclosed, though thanks to being in a pitch black environment for long periods of time, my eyes are so sensitive to light. I flick my lighter on and write in my journal “day 106, found some food and water, another building in the city looted, no moths encountered, another filter found. i better savor these canned fruits, without the sun nothing grows, no more food is made, so when i run out… it'll be over, i could just end it here, spare myself from another day in this hell, but there's hope, i have more parts for the radio, so hopefully I'll have radio contact soon, found another book on mechanics and camera stuff, if i can get that old camera to work the night vision mode will be very useful. i refuse to believe I'm alone, I'm going to bed now, tomorrow I'll head west, who knows what I'll find.” 

DAY 107

I still open my eyes expecting the sun to glow through the windows, only to remember the sun is gone, the windows are covered, and I'm back in this void. I stuff a few cans in my backpack, check my lighter fuel about half empty, i have some glowsticks i wrapped in cloth, it might be dim enough to be safe, but I'll let my lighter run out first. i know that west is full of radiation and gas, the military decided to try nuking and gassing the bastards, but it just made our numbers dwindle. I grab a roll of neon tape and start walking, holding my compass to my face so I can see where west is. I walked until the tape ran out, unfortunately I wasn’t able to see anything with my lighter, so I had to do something drastic, I took about twelve flashlights and wired them to a detonator, with one button about fifteen feet in every direction will be illuminated, allowing me to see any buildings or places of interest without wandering until I bump into them, unfortunately this is basically a flare for moths, so I need to be a considerable distance away. KIKCIKCKC a loud clicking noise surrounds the area, I only had the flash lights on for a second, but it managed to attract who knows how many, CRUNCH KIKCIKCKC now it sounds like stomping, and the clicks are layered and in subtle changing pitches, are they… communicating? I can’t see anything, but they sound so close, there’s no reason for them to stick around unless they’re determined to hunt. The thumps and clicks get louder, I start hyperventilating, terrified, I should be safe, but… FLSHH CLKKK I hear a sudden sound that’s squishy and crunchy, a surge of pain hits me, I look down and see a pink fleshy spear-like thing sticking through my upper abdomen, blood pools out and I’m frozen, until a click is right behind me, the appendage pulls out and i immediately start running, one hand on the gushing hole, CLCKCKCKCKCKKCK STOMP STOMP! it’s chasing me now, and I hear four stomps at a time, meaning moths must have four legs, the clicking becomes a loud guttural scream, the closest resemblance is of someone being choked and with blood flooding their esophagus, trying to scream, constricted and oddly wet, but I have no time to think about that, another pink flesh spear reaches out and nearly stabs my chest, I pull out one of the glow sticks, crack and unwrap it then throw it into the dark void around me, just as I hoped the moth ceased the chase, the sounds got further away and i quickly run right into a wall, I slide to the ground and nearly collapse, I’m bleeding out, but I can’t go out yet… this can’t be the end… 

so i posted this on twitter and watpad, and now two random people are offering to be beta readers and i think editors? idk but part of me is so ashamed and embarrassed by it, idk what to say, fair warning it has some gore and disturbing stuff, plus vulgar language, I'm also very amateur, enjoy i guess

CHAPTER ONE: VESTIGE

"McLeary ya gobshite!" That was the captain, screaming at Roy, "Drop that fuckin' anchor before we hit the godamn isle!" He screamed even louder, if he kept going he'd pop a blood vessel,

"Aye I'm comin'!": Roy shouted back from his bunk, getting his boots and raincoat on "prick..." he muttered under his breath.

"He's really pissed today aye?" Brodie chuckled and gave a joking remark, smirking at Roy's annoyance, "ye ye what else is new. Ya sleep good?" Roy asked, concerned for Brodie. "Nah storm raged all night, couldn't get a wink of sleep" Brodie said while rubbing his eyes. "MCLEARY YA BASTARD!" captain screamed, "I'M COMIN'!" He replied as he rushed out the door. As soon as the door opened he was hit with a freezing gust of wind and a heavy shower of rain, "Good mornin' sunshine, sleep well?" The captain said sarcastically, bottle of scotch in hand, he was old but had a feeling of youth, he scratched his face, fingers touching an eyepatch, supposedly he got it from a bar fight, or maybe a fishing accident? The story was always different, though with his excessive drinking everything he said was always different, "aye cap'n, what's that your third bottle?" He replied reciprocating his attitude, "ah piss off" he waved his hand at him, annoyed and irate, though he's always like that, "ya need to drop that damn anchor soon", "why? I don't see the light house in front of us" he questioned him, he tried to peer through the fog and storm, looking for the light house. "There's too much damn fog, but it's close" that was Jacob calling out from the wheel, "yeah but where's the light? Surely they'd have the light on in this storm", Jacob just shrugged at his question. "Drop the damn anchor already ya gobshite" the captain said, his words slurred from the alcohol, Roy cranked the mechanism for the anchor, it drops with a loud boom as it plunges into the dark rough waters, the boat jolted from the sudden stop, and through the fog the isle appeared, land nearly touching the ship, had he waited another minute the ship would have crashed. "Shit that was close" Roy said between breaths, reeling from the jolt, "Everyone off the boat, find the light house... McLeary... my office" the captain commanded, and everyone obeyed, Brodie gives Roy a knowing smirk, and mouthed "good luck".

CHAPTER TWO: SOMETHING'S OFF.

"YA MISERABLE, MORRONIC SHIT, HOW MANY DAMN TIMES DO I HAVE TO SCREAM YOUR NAME?! WE NEARLY FUCKIN' CRASHED BECAUSE OF YOUR LAZY ARSE" The captain scolded, "but we didn't, and i couldn't sleep with the damn storm- "DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A BLOODY SHIT ABOUT YOUR SLEEP?! I DONT FUCKIN' CARE ABOUT YOUR DAMN BEAUTY SLEEP, *he slammed his fist against his desk the whole thing shook and everything on it bounced up by at least a few inches* YOU ARE A GOD DAMN SAILOR, AND YOU FUCKIN' LISTEN WHEN I TELL YOU TO DO SOMETHIN', THIS IS MY SHIP, AND YOU BRING YOUR USELESS BULLSHIT ON IT, NOW YOU LISTEN AND LISTEN WELL YA BASTARD, DONT YOU EVER PULL SOMETHING LIKE THAT AGAIN OR I'LL FUCKIN TOSS YOU OFF MY SHIP WITHOUT A LIFE JACKET AND WATCH YOU DROWN, NOW GET THE FUCK OUT!" *he threw a book at him as he walked out, he missed of course, and Roy simply muttered "whatever" and closed the door, he flips the middle finger at the door, a quiet sign of his defiance and uncare about his captain's anger "fuck off ya prick" *he muttered and walked away, joining his crew mates on the island*

"Took ya long enough, how was the pep talk?" Brodie greeted him, lifting his lantern to see him as he approached, Roy didn't respond, not until he reached the light house door, he tried the knob locked? "why's the door locked?" He asked, an exhausted and annoyed tone to his voice, "we don't know, tried knockin' but nothin'" Jacob replied, "maybe they're asleep?" Brodie asked, his tone reflected his uncertainty on that answer, "in this storm?!" Roy replied, knowing that wasn't the case, "well what about their boat? The uh dingy? Maybe they left?" Jacob tried to give another answer, "and go where? The dingy is for emergencies, and there's no way they'd leave in this storm, I mean this storm has been going on for 24 hours by now, besides there's no way they'd get far enough for us not to have seen them on the way here" Brodie said, shooting down that theory, "and also why is it locked? If they did leave they wouldn't have locked it, plus the lock is on the other side, they'd have no way of getting out and keeping it locked" Roy said as he gave the door a pound "here move" Jacob said, moving him out of the way and kicked the door open. Brodie walked in first, his lantern illuminating the dark room, chairs lay on the floor, table upturned on it's side, no sign of anything, but the odd layout depicts some sort of struggle or conflict, maybe a fight?, Jacob flipped the light switch, but nothing happened "right, Jacob check the stairs and the lamp, Roy you find the jenny and see if it's workin', I'll look around here, see if I can find the keeper's".

CHAPTER THREE: MISSING.

Roy opened the basement door, the steep stairs nearly made him meet an early grave as he walked down them, since Brodie had the lantern, Roy flicked his lighter, the orange dim light barely illuminated a few feet in front of him. He made his way to the generator- well more like he stumbled around until he bumped into it, he read the fuel gauge, empty, there were shipment boxes on the ground, empty jugs of fuel scattered on the floor, one was unopened, he checked the date April thirteenth 1923, he opened it, the foul smell burned his nose as he poured it into the gluttonous machine, the gauge was barely halfway, but it'd have to do for now, he pulled the lever and with a loud shutter power was restored, and he made his way back upstairs. "Ah finally I can see without this damn lamp" Brodie said with a sigh as he turned the lantern off, and set it down on the now flipped up table, "it's a lantern, a lamp is stationary" Jacob corrected him as he relaxed on one of the chairs, "how much fuel did you put in the jenny?" Brodie asked, ignoring Jacob's snarky comment, "about half, but that's all I could find, the rest was empty, but the last jug..." Roy answered, trying to get the strength to mention the date on the jug, "what about it?" Jacob asked, curiously, "it... was dated April thirteenth, 1923..." he finally said after a moment of silence, they looked at him with eyes wide and an open mouth, completely in shock... "that's a year ago, but wait you said that was the last full jug? Because that means it's the last delivery they got, which would also include food and supplies" Brodie said, finally breaking the silence, "nah they sent an S.O.S. A week ago, that's why we're here, they wouldn't have enough supplies to last until now, they would have run out in June- "if that was the last delivery they got, that means they didn't make it to June, or even earlier than that" Brodie cut Jacob off, shooting down his doubt, "so then how the hell did they send an S.O.S. and also why now? Why not last year?" Roy asked, confused, "I heard it was a message they found in a bottle on the shore, must've been floating a long way" Brodie reasoned, but they all know that doesn't solve the mystery... Jacob ran upstairs in a desperate and panicked bolt to the lamp, Roy and Brodie followed. They walked up to find Jacob rapidly searching for something, finally finding a log, "is that the log of their routines?" Roy asked, unsure what Jacob is doing, he flipped through it until he froze, a stone cold moment of silence hit as his face contorted into a chilled shocked expression, the page was the last entry recorded... 1899 April 13th 7:55PM when Roy and

Brodie looked they reciprocated his expression, and suddenly a loud boom came from downstairs and the power went out.

CHAPTER FOUR: STUCK

"This doesn't make sense..." Brodie said as he flipped through the log each page had the same date 1899 April 13th 7:55PM "are you sure you got the right log?" Roy asked, "this one says 1923 on it, so it's the right one, but..." Jacob answered, his voice chilled and shaking. The silence broke with the captain arriving, "what're ye doing on your arse? Where the hell are the keepers? And why is the power out?" He yelled, "cap'n there's something wrong, the generator is broken, and the log... it keeps having the same date, and the keepers... we can't find any evidence of them ever being here" Roy answered, panic and confusion in his voice, "what're you goin' on about McLeary?, that's all nonsense, Brodie what's happenin'?" The captain said doubtful and stern, "David... we need to go" Brodie answered with a serious tone, none of them ever addressed the captain by his name, he was stunned by this, and confused by the disturbed crew "what's goin on? why're you guys actin' like this? *he looked at their gravely serious faces and though he didn't understand, he listened* right, well we'll get some sleep and leave in the mornin', the storms too bad to leave tonight, what's got you boys so scared?" He asked, showing a glimmer of the man behind the alcoholism and drill sergeant attitude, "sir the log is filled with the same date, and there's no sign of the keepers, or anyone ever being here" Roy answered, the three of them knew how crazy this sounded, but they were so unsettled they didn't care, they had to leave. The captain grabbed the logbook, his eyes widened in shock at the sight, now understanding their fear, he felt a chill as he saw the date, but he was older, and more stern, he wouldn't believe it, he couldn't believe it, he set the record down and and with a grave tremor to his voice he simply said "go to sleep lads..." Roy went to bed last, staring up at the ceiling, lying still and weightless, as if his soul was leaving his mortal body and soaring to heaven, how could the others sleep? He thought, he checked his watch, 7:55PM he glanced at the porthole on the other side of the crew's quarters, outside was pitch black, rain covered it like a thick blanket, making it nearly impossible to see anything outside, odd... he thought, it shouldn't be this dark already, normally the sun would have only set just two hours ago, and still it wouldn't be this dark until around midnight, but with his already disturbed mind he shook it off and turned to the other side, avoiding another thing that doesn't feel right, he closed his eyes and breathed deep, using the violent rain to lull him into sleep, or some kind of peace, his last thought was of the date... 1899 April thirteenth, 7:55PM.

CHAPTER FIVE: UNSETTLED

"AWAKEN" a booming voice surrounded Roy, he opened his eyes but was greeted by a dark, murky atmosphere, he opened his mouth to speak only for water to fill his mouth, he tried to move his arms, trying to swim, but his body felt gone, like his limbs were simply dead, he looked up and in every direction, but nothing was visible "FITZROY" the voice boomed again, a flash of something blinded him, and for a split second he swears he could see an eye. "Roy! Roy!" The booming voice changed to Brodie's, and suddenly he was in his bed, sweat drenched his covers, and Brodie was shaking him, was that a dream? He thought, but was pulled back to reality as Brodie called his name again "Roy get up man!" He shouted again with urgency in his voice, "I'm up, I'm up!" He finally answered, his voice groggy but a hint of disturbance echoed in it, "Finally, you okay? You kept yelling and moving like you were fighting for your life or somethin'" Brodie asked, concerned for Roy, "nothin' just a bad dream, I'm alright, what's goin' on?" Roy answered, shaking off the disturbing nightmare, "the storms still raging, and it's still dark, our watches aren't working so we don't know the time, maybe it's still night" Brodie said, sounding tired, likely having had a bad dream too, "MCLEARY GET YER ARSE IN HERE!" The captain yelled, his voice so loud he could tell exactly where he was. Roy hurried into the communications room on the top deck, finding the captain fiddling with the console, "McLeary, help me with the coms, the damn leccy (electricity) is out" he called out, and pointed to the power station, Roy quickly obeyed, and after a few flipped switches, the console sparked to life, the captain grabbed the microphone and turned the frequency, the radio finally got a signal, and the speaker blared, but there was no voice, the sound wasn't of a dispatch or anything even human, it was the sound of the ocean, the atmosphere a diver would have, then a sudden muffled scream, the oceanic atmosphere made it sound like the cry of someone drowning, and suddenly water dripped from the speakers, the noise cut out as a massive spark came from the radio, and the power went out, plunging the disturbed group in a suffocating darkness... "well what now?" Jacob cried in a desperate attempt to find hope, "the jenny on the boat is fried, and the coms is burnt from the spark, hell the leccy shortage could make the boat a fire hazard" Brodie said, defeated, "aye, we may as well stay in the light house" The captain said, maintaining a stern and strong attitude, "no no no I'm not staying in this fucking place!" Jacob shouted, his voice rising and trembling in anger and fear, like a cornered animal, "Pull yourself together man!" The captain yelled at him, trying to keep the crew's sanity from succumbing to whatever is going on, "you saw what happened in the coms, how can you be so calm about this?!" Roy yelled, questioning the captain's attitude, "what the fuck do you want from me?! I don't know what the hell is goin' on, and I'm just as fuckin' scared as you, but if we keep panicking and freakin' out it's gonna get worse, ya cunt" The captain snapped, and after a moment of silence and tension he sighed "Look, your a gobshite, but a cap'n cares for his crew, we're goin' to be okay, just... please don't lose your mind, there's a small barn on the other side of the island, along with a small cottage, the keepers used to farm and do fishin', and I'm sure there's a radio there too, why don't you go and look over there, the walk will help you clear your head" The captain said, with a gentle and vulnerable voice reflecting a genuine care for him, Roy gave a reluctantly calm sigh and walked out of the light house.

CHAPTER SIX: 1899 APRIL TENTH

Roy opened the barn door, it creaked and groaned as if it hadn't been opened in years, his lantern illuminated a grisly scene, rotten corpses of chickens lay scattered on the ground, the sickly flesh moldy and a disgusting greenish gray, the smell overwhelming his nose and he nearly threw up, instantly closing the door, he wouldn't take a step inside even if there was his ticket off the island, he moved on to the small cottage, and thankfully he wasn't greeted with corpses and rot, but the smell inside wasn't very pleasant, the furniture was made of wood that had been rotting for a long time, there was no light switches, only a few candle lit lamps, and though he searched, there was no communication system, not even a generator, this cottage must have been built before lighthouses got electricity, but then why didn't they upgrade the cottage too? He found his answer when he found an old journal, covered in dust and smelled like it had been soaked in saltwater, an odd combination of features but Roy payed it no mind, focused on possibly learning more about this island, or the keepers. As soon as he opened it a flash of light blinded him, and when he opened his eyes he was staring at the barn, but there was no decay or age, it seemed like it was fresh, he could smell manure and heard chickens clucking, and he saw a man writing in something... the journal he found, and the man muttered "1899 April tenth" Roy realized in awe and fear that somehow he's in 1899, but that impossible?! Roy thought as he held his hands against his head as if his head would explode from the realization, he took a step toward the man, shouted his name, but the man payed no attention, he didn't even bat an eye, it's like Roy wasn't even there and suddenly a voice was calling out someone's name

"JOHN YA GOBSHITE I GOT A BIG ONE ON THE LINE!" The man's name must've been John because the man immediately set down the journal and ran to wherever the voice was coming from, and suddenly Roy was standing with them, as the new man was aggressively yanking his fishing rod, when suddenly it snapped and he was knocked back by the whiplash, "FUCKIN' HELL!" The man yelled in shock, but before Roy could do or say anything he was now at the shore, chicken corpses washed up on the sand and dirt as if they were gifts from the sea, dozens of chickens now littered the shore, "The poor bastards must've drowned, how the hell did they get out?" The man said as he walked towards the corpses, "I heard them last night, they kept me up, until eventually they stopped" John replied, "So that means they drowned themselves?" The man asked, and a pause of silence and eerie feeling filled the air, the scene faded and Roy was back in the present, was it some sort of dream? Was he witnessing what happened? He set the journal down and ran out of the cottage, scared of what happened, "am I losing my mind?" He asked himself, terrified of his declining sanity.

CHAPTER SEVEN: CORPSES OF THE PAST

For some reason Roy didn't run back to the lighthouse, instead he ran into the barn, and his mind was too focused on the terror to notice the horrid smell, he ran until he suddenly stopped, Four chairs were facing the other side of the barn, what should have been a wall was now a giant makeshift hole, perhaps a second entrance? The hole revealed the shore, he could see the storming sky, the rough dark water. When he illuminated the chairs he recoiled in horror, four decaying bodies sat, old and decayed ropes wrapped around them, the scene was of a murder, but there was no blood, no sign of any killing, one of the corpses looked like the man he saw in that... vision? Dream? Hallucination? He wasn't quite sure what to call it, but when he looked into their dull lifeless eyes he again was somehow witnessing another vision, this time of John asleep in his bed, and through his window Roy saw the man again, walking to the shore, and suddenly stopping, the surface of the ocean rippled as if something was trying to surface, or swimming towards the shore, the man fell to his knees, held his head and screamed, and suddenly the ripples stopped, the waves became rough, and rain started pouring, the man stood up, and walked back to the cottage, his movements seemed off, Roy couldn't describe it but there was something different about how he walked now. Roy now was in the barn, tied to a chair, witnessing the man chopping at the wall with an axe, until most of the wall was gone, this must've been how the hole happened, the man turned to Roy, and his eyes were now glowing green, a haunting light illuminating his pupils, the man spoke in complete gibberish, but there was a pattern to it, as if some of it was meant to be certain words, he gripped one of his eyeballs and with a sharp tug he ripped it out, the stem dangling in his hand, then he finally spoke English "My eyes have been opened John, but this eye was blind to it" he said with a chilling calmness, his voice resembled that of a priest giving a sermon, "I have been chosen, We have been chosen" He said as he set the axe and eye down, "He has risen from the deep, awoken from a millennium of slumber, and he bears gifts for mankind" He preached, as he knelt next to Roy and whispered "Do not be afraid, you have a purpose now, we all do, it will be quick..." and then he turned away, suddenly the storm became worse and the shore flooded with water, a massive ripple appeared on the surface, something was coming... the water broke as something came out, everything went black and Roy could hear the horrific screams of John, and suddenly that deep booming voice from his dream returned and he was now on the shore "FITZROY... THE TRUTH HAS BEEN GIVEN" "what do you mean? Who are you?" Roy called out as if talking to the sea itself, suddenly he heard the screams of Brodie and Jacob, they were coming from the lighthouse, the lamp was on and illuminated the sea, like a beacon, but not for ships. Roy ran into the lighthouse and upstairs discovering a horrific scene...

CHAPTER EIGHT: CHOSEN

Jacob was tied to a chair, his eyes carved out, and the captain stood there with the bloody knife, "He wasn't worthy..." he said with the same tone of the man in his last vision, it all clicked... "you know the truth now... he showed you what I did" he said assuring Roy of what he realized, the captain was the man, he killed John, he was the keeper in 1899, but why? Why return? "Why are you doing this? And why did you bring us here?" Roy asked in terror and confusion, "I've been bringing crews here since I was chosen, your the second" he answered, "but the S.O.S.- "It was just a ruse, the S.O.S is from me, to bring people here, people he has chosen, you are here for a reason, all of you are" the captain interrupted, and turned away to face the wall, "now look away, he hasn't chosen you for this..." Roy instinctively obeyed and looked away, the storm got worse, and he could hear Brodie panicking, screaming in horror, until it stopped, and they both turned back, Brodie's eyes were dull and lifeless, his mouth contorted into a horrified expression, his features twisted in impossible ways, jaw reaching his neck, pupils crossed, and skin gray, Roy wanted to scream, to run, to do anything, but he was captivated, or frozen, the captain looked at him with satisfaction, as if he's fulfilled his purpose, "my time has come, he's chosen you, cover one eye, and don't look away..." with that he jumped over the railing surrounding the tower, and fell to the ground with a sickening crunch. Roy forced himself to finally move, he walked to the railing, wanting to end it from the horror he's witnessed, but something stopped him, he looked at the shore in awe, the storm got worse, the surface rippled, he quickly covered his left eye, and stared, the voice returned "FITZROY... YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN..."