Member-only story
Featured
Science Fiction/ First Line Fiction Prompt #21
Beacon
In a frozen world, salvation can only come from a man with a warm heart
The old lighthouse wasn’t haunted, but it was hiding something far more dangerous.
Himself.
Snow, twilight, and despair surrounded him as John fought to cover the last fifty feet separating him from the base of the ancient structure. His legs plunged into lakes of fire that seemed to open beneath him with every step on the ice, yet he managed to pull himself out and press forward to the next patch.
Fire and ice, fire and ice — go, go, go. It’s your only chance. It’s humanity’s only chance.
On all fours, he crawled up the corroded staircase, the grayish iron melting beneath him. His heartbeat thudded like a time bomb: click, click, click — each beat edging closer to eternal damnation…
…or salvation…
In the keeper’s ruined quarters, he spotted a radio — an ancient relic, its rusted frame half-buried under a roof caved in by snow and ashen gray dust. John hadn’t seen such radios since he was a child. His father used one at work — and not only that, there had been a shiny blue uniform, a gun, and handcuffs, too.
