Thunderbirds Are Go
The Halloween Collection
2022 Edition
By Lee Homer
Disclaimer: All rights reserved. I don't own Thunderbirds and any of the characters involved. You know the drill. We're back for another collection of tales of the weird, the depraved and the paranormal. I hope you enjoy these stories and Happy Halloween.
The Lighthouse Dwellers
By Scott Tracy
Before I get into the story, I want to drop a little bit of information about the location. Wood Haven Lighthouse was built in 1808 under the orders of Thomas Jefferson and is still active to this day. It operates on the eastern edge of Wood Island in Saco Bay, on the southern coast of Maine. Over the years, it's received many technological upgrades, but it is believed that each upgrade has disturbed the souls of those who once worked or resided there. The lighthouse is said to be haunted by the spirits of light keepers that kept the light going throughout the centuries. There were also stories of a dark spirit lurking inside the light keeper's cabin, who is said to attack trespassers and ghost hunters alike. These days, the lighthouse is fully automated, but the activity remains. On this particular occasion, it would serve as a makeshift hospital for the injured thanks to our help.
On the morning of April 7th of this year, a cruise liner called the S.S. Rivera, en route to New York, run aground off the coast, sheering her hull and listing her to one side. Passengers frantically clambered into the lifeboats, leaving the injured behind. Crew members and engineers were trapped inside the lower bulkheads as water began to sweep its way through the lower decks. John intercepted their cries and informed us of the situation. Dad Dispatched Gordon, Alan, Virgil and Myself to attend to the rescue, putting together a plan as we went. Alan accompanied me as we took off towards the scene in Thunderbird 1 while the boys followed in Thunderbird 2, with Thunderbird 4 aboard. We had planned to evacuate the injured first, using the nearby lighthouse as a temporary facility, but the local authorities informed us that it wasn't necessary. The flight was a short one. I think it only took us under an hour to get there. When I arrived, I surveyed the carnage that was unfolding below. The ship was almost on its side in the water when I came into land. I set my Thunderbird down outside the lighthouse, updating my brothers on the situation.
"Thunderbird 2 from Thunderbird 1. It's looking bad, Virgil. Once you launch Thunderbird 4, you'll need to stabilise the Rivera with your magnetic cables. Alan and I will help set up the medical wing here."
"FAB, Scott," came Virgil's reply. "We'll be approaching you in just a few minutes."
Disembarking the craft, we checked in with the chief police officer who had cordoned off the site. I could feel something surround us as we did as if we were being observed throughout the entirety of our discussion. Periodically, Alan would glance towards the Light keeper's quarters as he felt the hairs stand on the back of his arms. We shrugged it off and prepared for our momentous task when he heard Thunderbird 2 engines scream overhead. Virgil steered himself over the capsized ship, snaring its underside with a volley of strong versatile cables. They weaved and snaked around the ship like tendrils, clasping onto the hull with their powerful magnets. Using his engines and manoeuvring thrusters, Virgil took the strain as Thunderbird 2 struggled to bring the ship up topside. The Rivera wasn't a large ship, but she was a heavy one. By sundown, the first of the injured were brought ashore by helicopter, while the boys continued to free the trapped personnel. As the sun continued to dip below the horizon, the lighthouse took on an eerie presence which loomed over the hospital tent.
While we were attending to the injured, a paramedic approached me with a concerned look on his face. Two of their emergency generators had gone on the blink and needed replacing. We didn't know where to find any until a resident who volunteered to help, suggested the lighthouse and light keeper's house. Now, we didn't know about the hauntings at the time but decided to go ahead and search for the equipment. When there are lives at stake, time is a constant and it always races against you. We decided to split up. Alan took the lighthouse and I took the lightkeeper's house. A wall of negative energy hit me the moment I stepped inside the dark building. It was like stepping into a time capsule. Every room retained its original aesthetic from the period it was built in. Everything was preserved from the furniture to the wooden beams and panelling. Seriously, this place should have been a museum. It was a beautiful building, but why did it feel so oppressive and evil? My body reacted to something watching me as I searched around for an emergency generator. I located one in a storage closet in the preserved lightkeeper's bedroom. I was inside the building for a good 10 minutes by this point and I managed to shake off the foreboding sensation.
I crossed the threshold into the bedroom when the sinister presence made itself known to me. I managed to locate the emergency generator, sitting idly by the window. However, before I could reach out to grab it, I felt something rush up on me from behind. Expecting to see a person behind me, I spun around only to see a space. There was no one around. Was I going crazy? I wondered if I was cracking up. I mean it had been a long day and the rescue was far from over. We functioned on caffeine supplements alone. Just as I stood there to question my mental state, another sound took me by surprise. A deep aggressive hiss came from the closet where I had found the generator unit. I froze in that second as an ice-cold chill traversed my spine. Then at the end of that hiss, a slew of unearthly, disembodied words echoed from the darkened space.
"Get out now!"
I grabbed the generator and high-tailed it out of there. At the time I thought that I disturbed a trespasser. Naturally, I would have called the intruder out, but this wasn't the time nor the place. Plus for some reason, my mind was telling me that this wasn't the case. When I left the building and returned to the medical tent, I asked the security chief if there was anyone in the building. He flashed a concerned look at me and immediately went inside to make a sweep of the place. I waited anxiously while Virgil relayed me updates on their progress. As I helped the growing influx of injured people to the tent, the security chief returned from the empty building. He had searched each room, nook and cranny with a flashlight with two other men. He informed me that there was no one in there. So where the hell did that evil hissing voice come from?
As I tried to process this, I realised that Alan had been gone a long time and hadn't returned from the lighthouse. I gathered my wits about me and decided to search for him. Darkness had fallen by this time, submerging the lighthouse into complete darkness. Stepping inside, I immediately realised that the automatic lights had not come on. I switched them and a spiralling staircase revealed itself to me in the dimly lit glow. I began to ascend it, calling out for my brother as I did.
"Alan!? Alan where are you?"
As I reached the light room, I could hear a stifled shuffling sound amongst the echo of my footsteps. When I stepped up onto the floor, I found Alan curled up in a fetal position at the end of the room. His muscles had seized up as his fingers sank into his knees. I knelt in front of him and got him to look at me. The fear in his eyes had said it all. As I tried to get him to talk to me, his gaze kept glancing over my shoulder at the dark space behind me, He slowly looked back behind me and saw it. No wonder he was frightened. A dark, tall shadow figure loomed there. It was darker than the night sky itself as the light from the lighthouse torch brought out the contours of its dark smokey composition. The part that scared us was how it appeared to stare at us with its glaring red eyes. It made no sound as it glided around the room towards us. I picked Alan up off the ground and ushered him towards the stairwell, unable to guess the shadow figure's intentions.
As we moved, it moved with us, keeping close to us. We staggered down the stairs, Alan's legs finally kicked in as he snapped back into life. He frantically began screaming at me about the generator, seemingly oblivious to the strange mass that was chasing us. I shot him a confused look as we legged it towards the bottom floor. As we reached the bottom of the stairs though, we were greeted by another apparition. Another tall and dark smokey figure loomed in front of the door, It stared us down for a few seconds as if it was trying to figure us out. As it did that, Alan looked back and gripped my arm. The first shadow figure stood there on the stairs behind us, looming over us with his red and soulless eyes. The spirit by the door moved away, providing us with our exit. It then simply dispersed into the night as the lighthouse returned to its ambient state. I sent Alan outside while I hurried into the downstairs storage room, grabbing the second generator. Questions swirled in my head for hours after that, but my main concern was for my brother. What had happened to him in there?
We attended to the last of the injured when Virgil and Gordon signalled that they had completed the job. I instructed them to head home while Alan and myself stayed behind to help organise transport for the injured. It took the rest of the night to get them aboard the ambulances and by sunrise, we were finished. Alan took the time to process what had happened to him inside the lighthouse, only he couldn't remember. When we took off for home in Thunderbird 1, he opened up and told me about it. It was disturbing, to say the least.
"So what happened to you in that lighthouse, exactly?" I asked him. "You looked so out of it when I found you up in the light room."
"It's weird, Scott," he replied. "I remember stepping into the lighthouse and finding the generator unit, but suddenly it felt as if something was in the room with me. I could see a black veil cover my eyes and the next thing I know, I was up in the light room and you were pulling me to my feet. It's just… that shadow figure. Was it going to hurt us in some way do you think?"
"I don't know, Alan," I replied. "Judging by the shadow figure that moved aside for us, I think they were trying to help us, but I guess we'll never really know for sure. I don't know what happened to you in there, but you really can't remember anything?"
Alan shook his head with a shrug; "No, Scott. It was like I blacked out. How long was I in there?"
"I don't know. 10, 15 mins I guess. I don't know what to tell you, bro. There are things in this world that we'll never understand. We've seen our fair share of unexplained encounters over the years and sometimes I feel that there are some forces out there that are non-corporeal and that they're supposed to be unexplained. I'll never deny the existence of these forces. We have to be aware of them, respectful of them and if we have to, stay clear of them. Understand?"
Alan nodded in reflection as we spent the flight home in silence. We felt like we could sleep for hours after such a long operation. That's where my story ends. I don't know if the spirits at the Wood Island Lighthouse were malicious or not. Perhaps they felt like we were intruding at first, but if they could see what we were doing, I know they'd want to help in the rescue too. Maybe they knew who we were and what we were there for. I guess we'll never know.