Nico Fischer, a young detective, arrived at the small town of Atgrove. He was sent by his detective agency to investigate the mysterious lighthouse of the town, which had been the subject of numerous rumors and legends. As he strolled along the coastline, he spotted the weathered lighthouse standing tall against the crashing waves. Its mysterious aura made Nico gulp. Nico made the assumption that the lighthouse had been around for about a century. Its walls were severely damaged, and unlike a traditional lighthouse, this one was vandalized by inappropriate messages marked by graffiti. 

   The salty breeze carried the faint sound of creaking wood and rusted metal as Nico approached the lighthouse. He felt a sudden chill in the air and heard the distant sound of crashing waves. He couldn’t help but shiver, not only from the chilly wind, but also from the eerie feeling that seemed to emanate from the dilapidated structure. He noticed, too, small rods poking out of the dirt that perfectly surrounded the perimeter of the base of the lighthouse. It was strange but aesthetic, as the rods matched the red color of the base. Before he could make another step towards the building, Nico heard screaming from behind him. Startled, he quickly turned around, trying to focus his eyes on the shadowy figure. The stranger rushed to Nico, while Nico was getting ready to defend himself. The stranger was now close enough for Nico to make out their face in the ominous night. As the stranger stepped closer, Nico’s guard went down. What revealed was an elderly man with a weathered face and a concerned expression.

   “Who do you think you are to be doing all this in the middle of the night, huh?” yelled the old man anxiously. 

   “We-well … wha-what do you mean, sir?” responded the fearful Nico in his foreign accent. 

   The old man squinted at Nico, sizing him up. He kept a fierce look on his face until finally realizing that Nico meant no harm. 

   The old man sighed. “I’m the lighthouse keeper, and I’ve been watching this place for decades,” he explained, his voice softening. “I’m just wary of strangers snooping around.”

   “Well I appreciate that, sir,” replied Nico. “I’m sorry about the miscommunication. My name is Nico Fischer and I was assigned to this town by my detective agency to follow up on some investigations regarding this lighthouse. Do you know anything about it?” He gestured for a handshake but the old man ignored it, directing his attention to the lighthouse door.

   Hesitantly, the old man shook Nico’s hand. “Yes, I do. Before you was detective Harper. He came one night and he was never heard from again. You know detective Harper, eh?” 

   “No, sir, I don’t. We must be from different agencies. There is a lot of controversy about this lighthouse so I wouldn’t be surprised if there were more agencies or businesses interested in this region, sir.”

   “Don’t call me sir, you hear? I’m Old Man Jenkins, just call me Jenkins,” responded the frustrated man. 

   “Of course, sorry about that.”

   Jenkins walked by Nico and proceeded to dig in his pockets in search of the key to the lighthouse door. Nico wasn’t so sure of anything, especially since the main street of this town was called Mord Street, which in his language, “Mord” meant “murder.” 

   “Ay, ay, Jenkins. What are you doing?” Nico nervously asked. 

   “I’m tryna let you in so you can go on about your job.”

   “How do you know I need to get in?” 

   “Well if you don’t, I’m going to head on home and enjoy the rest of my hot chocolate.”

   “No, no, no, I do, sorry for questioning. I’m just a little, you know, skeptical about this town, that’s all. Please, proceed.” 

   Nico’s skepticism was evident, but Old Man Jenkins simply smiled, unfazed, and proceeded to unlock the door. 

   “Don’t you worry son, you’re in good hands. Many are skeptical, but with me around, your safety is assured.”

   “Thank you, Jenkins.” 

   Old Man Jenkins motioned for Nico to enter the lighthouse, and Nico thanked him again. Old Man Jenkins followed closely behind, shutting the door behind him and relocking it. 

   “Why’d you have to do that?” questioned Nico nervously again.

   “Ah, don’t worry about it, security purposes, that’s all.”

   Nico tried reassuring himself. What’s the worst that can happen anyways? This Old Man Jenkins is weird, but at least he said he’s got my back. I’m sure I’ll be fine.

   He glanced around the inside of the lighthouse. A spiral staircase led to the beacon room, which housed the shining light. 

   Nico motioned for permission to ascend the stairs. 

   “May I?”

   “Of course. Go on, I’ll be up in a minute. There’s some maintenance I should be doing,” uttered Old Man Jenkins. 

   When he reached the beacon room, he took a moment to walk around. He had a panoramic view of the entire horizon. The ocean was as black as obsidian, its surface reflecting no light except for the distant stars above. Its waves crashed against the rocks on the shore and occasionally the walls of the lighthouse, creating a loud “whump” sound that echoed in the lighthouse for many seconds. Nico was afraid the lighthouse would collapse, so he directed his attention elsewhere. He turned his back and gazed at the small town. It was shrouded in darkness, and the only illumination it had was the few flickering street lamps that lined the narrow, cobblestone streets. Soon, the unease and skepticism came over Nico. Instead of investigating further, he turned and headed for the staircase. Old Man Jenkins was there, and was smirking mysteriously. 

   Nico noticed something behind the old man’s back. “What is that, Jenkins?”

   Nico, startled by the crash of another wave, flinched. Old Man Jenkins seized this opportunity, revealing the rod behind his back and swung at Nico. It hit him hard on the back of the head. 

   Nico fell to the ground, his vision blurry and his head throbbing with pain. He tried to stand up, but his legs gave way beneath him. It was all too sudden. He had predicted his fate. Old Man Jenkins loomed over him, a sinister grin spreading across his face. Nico attempted to crawl down the stairs, but Old Man Jenkins grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him back to the beacon room. Nico should have listened to the thoughts in his mind. He wondered how he had misjudged Old Man Jenkins so badly. Old Man Jenkins opened a door which Nico had not noticed when he was in the room. He tried hard to look at what was in the room, and realization dawned on him. Old Man Jenkins was no ordinary lighthouse keeper, he was a murderer. And no wonder detective Harper wasn’t heard from again. Nico then finally recognized the rod, which was currently black. I remember seeing the same rod but red! 

   The rod was stained red from Nico’s blood. And like detective Harper, detective Nico was never heard from again. Nico would now forever surround the base of the lighthouse.