Lena stepped off the rickety bus, her eyes scanning the forlorn streets of Crescent Bay. The town was a shadow of its former self, with peeling paint and rusted street lamps hinting at a forgotten past. The air was thick with the scent of salt and something else—something ancient and unsettling.
Lena felt drawn to the lighthouse, an imposing figure on the cliff's edge. Her feet moved as if by their own accord, carrying her closer to the structure that loomed like a sentinel over the restless sea. "They say it's cursed," she whispered to herself, the wind carrying her words away.
The sun dipped below the horizon, and darkness crept in, bringing with it a chorus of whispers that seemed to emanate from the lighthouse itself. Lena shivered as the voices called her name, soft and insistent. "Who's there?" she called out, her voice barely audible over the howling wind.
Heart pounding, Lena pushed open the creaking door and stepped inside. The air was stale, filled with the scent of decay and time. Her flashlight beam cut through the gloom, revealing walls lined with old photographs and newspaper clippings. A single figure stood in the center of the room, its face obscured by shadows. "I've been waiting for you," the figure said, its voice echoing with a chilling familiarity.
Lena approached the figure cautiously, her flashlight revealing it to be an old woman with eyes that held the weight of many lifetimes. "The lighthouse holds the truth of Crescent Bay's sorrow," the woman murmured. Lena studied the photographs, each one telling a story of tragedy, of lives claimed by the sea.
Lena followed the woman up the spiral staircase to the lantern room, where the sea roared below. The woman turned to her, eyes gleaming with an otherworldly light. "You must break the curse," she implored, her voice rising above the storm. Lena, understanding now the weight of her task, nodded solemnly, ready to face the darkness and uncover the truth that had haunted Crescent Bay for generations.
