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You are dreaming. You don’t quite know how you know that you are, but somehow you do.
The scene comes into focus slowly, like an adjusting camera lens. The first thing that you see is the rain. It dominates the space, great gray sheets of it slashing down, smashing into the ground you hover above- which you realize is also water. You are floating above the ocean and it’s pouring. All right, not the strangest dream you’ve ever had. If anything, it’s quite boring.
And then the island comes into view. At first it’s just a smoky outline in the distance, a fuzzy mass of land on the horizon, blinking strangely. But without a warning, you are suddenly much, much closer, now hovering just above the rocky shore. You see the terrain all laid out ahead of you, much of it obscured by the still falling rain. It’s stone and rock, mostly. Some vegetation here and there.
But what really catches your eye is the lighthouse. You know it’s a lighthouse because of the white and red candy-cane stripes and the shape of it; it looks ripped straight out of an old photograph. The give-away, though, is the single piercing beam of light cutting through the dark and mist and rain, sweeping in a wide circular motion over and over and over.
You blink, and when your eyes open, the scene around you has once again changed. While you can still hear the lashing rain and winds, they are more distant now, and you realize that you are standing inside the lighthouse, both feet planted firmly on the ground for once. It’s a neat and tidy space, and in the center of the circular room is the light, spinning around and around and around.
There is a young woman sitting there, next to the light. Her dark gray hair is pulled into a tight braid and her eye color is almost black. A splash of freckles across her nose. She would be wholly unremarkable if not for the fact that she is staring right at you.
She leans forwards and beckons you with one hand, and you drift forward, not really able to stop yourself.
You reach her seat, and the girl looks up at you and smiles a small haunted smile. A single strand of hair slips from its tie and falls across her face. She says, “Oh, hello there. Are you looking for a little adventure?”
You wake up.
There is a form for you, sitting innocently on your bedside table, and it looks like this:
Name:
Pronouns:
Age:
Appearance:
Personality:
Useful abilities (magic not allowed):
Biggest fear:
Luggage:
Are you scared of ghosts?:
Is the ocean forgiving?:
Other:
At the bottom, written in little loopy curves, are the words ‘Please come, dear friend, and join me at Wayfarer Island. Adventure awaits you and nine other lucky people. -Storm.’
You are holding a pen before you even finish reading it all. Something deep in your mind is telling you not to fill out the form, but you disregard it.
After all, how much damage could a little adventure do?
submitted by Storm, age Unknown, Wayfarer Island
(April 18, 2023 - 3:01 pm)
(April 18, 2023 - 3:01 pm)
The stone in the necklace broke into thousands of oblivion-colored shards, flying across the room. Storm made a choked sort of noise when it hit the ground.
Pangolin waited for a few seconds, triumph still painted across her face, waiting for something, anything.
Nothing happened.
Storm began to laugh. It was low and grating and caught Pangolin off guard for a split second before Storm’s hand shot forward and grabbed their wrist, twisting it hard enough that the knife fell to the ground. Pangolin was shoved backwards and they stumbled, not able to block the next blow that came to the side of their head.
When their mind cleared and the world stopped spinning, she found herself kneeling on the ground, hands bound by rope that Storm must have summoned.
The host herself was standing nearby, over the pile of broken shards that used to be her coveted necklace. There was sadness in her eyes. When she sensed that Pangolin was conscious, she spun around with a pointed glare.
“Look what you’ve done,” Storm said softly.
“What…?” Pangolin said, trying to think past the pounding in her head. “If not the necklace, then what? Where are the other guests?”
Storm waved her hand through the air and that leather-bound book of death appeared, falling to the ground heavily. It was open to a familiar page. ‘Resurrection’.
“You fought more than I thought you would,” Storm said, and she made another gesture, one that summoned another object, an object that the light reflected sharply off of. Pangolin realized that it was a metal baseball bat. “I thought all that killing would weaken your soul a bit. Guess not.” She positioned herself so that she was standing right in between Pangolin and the light that was still flashing, turning around the room and illuminating Storm from behind every few seconds. “But it’s not like anyone else could do much better. No one was going to be able to stop me.”
“Who are you trying to bring back?” Pangolin asked, and although she was genuinely curious, she was also stalling for time.
“The only person who showed me any compassion in a world that hated me,” Storm replied, gaze flattening.
“No one's life is worth the death of everyone you made me kill,” Pangolin shot back, venom in every word.
“This one is,” Storm said, and seeing the masked pain on the host’s face, Pangolin understood at last that whoever the person that Storm wanted to resurrect was, she must have cared about them very much. Their next protest died in their throat, knowing fully well that it was impossible to dissuade someone driven by pure emotion. No amount of logic was going to make her stop.
Storm shouldered the baseball bat. A lock of brown hair had come undone from her usually tight braid and fell across her face.
“You were right, you know,” Storm said. “About what I’m trying to do. In fact, you got everything right except for the magical artifact part. You thought it was the necklace, which, obviously, it isn’t. You should’ve looked harder.”
She turned around, hands on the bat like she was about to hit a home run. Pangolin realized, much too late, what was happening.
Storm swung the metal bat directly into the light. The force of the blow created hairline fractures that splintered across the thick glass. She brought the bat back and hit it again; this time a sizable crack shot down the middle. The brightness dipped. It made the shadows on Storm’s face seem deeper.
Again, again, and again, Storm swung and hit the light, until, finally, it flickered once, twice, and then went out. The room was plunged into sudden darkness. Pangolin squinted, trying to see through the sudden lack of light. They could barely make out Storm, standing in front of the demolished light, breathing heavily.
For a second, the world was still. And then the souls erupted from the mass of broken glass and metal. They poured out like a dam was broken, filling the room with that strange sort of blue-ish glow, like when they had summoned Hawkstar. One by one, taking shape in the order that they died in: Reuby Moonnight first, then Darkvine, followed by Hawkstar and Writing_in_the_dark, Amarillis and Periwinkle, Tenney and Wildsong, Echo and Sterling.
They swirled around the room in a mix of solid outlines and blurry light. They slowed down, free from their prison at last, disoriented and confused. One by one, their gazes turned to Pangolin.
She looked back at them with guilt written across her face. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, not sure if they could hear her. “I tried to save you.”
“Yes, you did,” Storm said, turning back around to face Pangolin. One hand was in the air, tightened in a fist. It occurred to Pangolin that she was struggling to keep the ghosts from flying away. In the craze of the light-breaking her braid had come undone completely and hair tumbled across her shoulders and face. She dropped the baseball bat and used the now free hand to push the hair out of her eyes.
Storm took a deep breath and bent down to grab the book. Her gaze skated across the Resurrection spell, blinking rapidly. She began to recite it, voice shaky but determined.
Pangolin felt panic rise in their throat; they used the distraction of the spell to try and twist their hands out of the ropes, pulling desperately.
Storm’s voice got louder the longer she read from the book, reaching a crescendo. The ghosts stirred, as if being pulled towards Storm, towards the book. Like they were water and she was a drain that had just been pulled. They coalesced around her, wrapping her in a cocoon of ghostly light.
Pangolin watched in horror as Storm gathered the ghosts together above her now open hand, condensed into an orb of swirling blue light. She was still chanting.
And then, all at once, Storm’s voice stopped, her last word echoing around the room now illuminated solely by the sphere of ghost-light. The spell was done.
She waited less than a second to slam the palm of her hand onto the page, imbuing it with the souls of ten innocent people.
The world went white.
~~~
Dead: 10 (Reuby Moonnight, Darkvine, Hawkstar, Writing_in_the_dark, Amarillis, Periwinkle, Tenebrous, Wildsong, Echo, Sterling)
Alive: 1 (Pangolin)
(June 20, 2023 - 5:20 pm)
OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH WOW
BREAKING THE NECKLACE DIDN'T WORK THE GHOSTS WERE IN THE LIGHT OH MY GOODNESS--
seriously though your writing is absolutely AMAZING. I love the imagery and the fast paced action and the way you convey emotion and foreshadow and are beginning to tie everything together and just EVERYTHING -- this is just SO GOOD!! asfkgkhjdhskl
this is the penultimate, correct? if so, THERE'S ONLY ONE MORE PART OH MY GOODNESS!! help I don't know if i'm emotionally prepared for the ending--
(June 20, 2023 - 6:34 pm)
Amazing piece. I can't wait....!!!
(June 22, 2023 - 2:45 pm)
Finale
Storm blinked open her eyes, not even aware that they had been closed. The last words of the resurrection spell were still ringing in her ears. Her vision was flooded with brightness, surrounded by an endless sea of solid white. She turned around, eyes scanning the area. There were no solid walls or ceiling, just a fuzzy absence of color that had no beginning and end. The lighthouse was nowhere to be found, nor was Pangolin. The spell book was gone from her hand, no wisps of ghosts remaining.
“Hello?” she asked, voice quickly swallowed by the abyss. Did it work? She was so sure that it would. If not, then all of this would have been for nothing.
But then: “Storm?”
Storm swiveled. Standing behind her was the familiar figure of a young woman, details slowly bleeding into existence. She had brown skin, long black hair streaked with shades of chestnut, and sparkling eyes.
“Khloe?” Storm asked, voice hoarse.
Khloe, looking the exact same as the day she had died, peered around curiously, confusion tugging on her features.
“Where am I?” she asked. “I thought… I thought I had died.”
“You did,” Storm said softly. She stepped forward, but found that no matter how much she moved forward, this infernal pocket dimension kept them the same distance apart.
Khloe frowned. “Then, how am I here?” Her eyes widened. “Did you die, too? Are we in the afterlife together?”
“No.” Storm cleared her throat. “I’m here to bring you back.”
“Bring me… back?” Khloe tilted her head to one side. “Back where?”
“Back to life, of course,” Storm said, attempting to jump directly to Kloe’s side. She landed in the same place that she leapt from. She cursed internally.
“Back to life?” Khloe repeated slowly. “No, that can’t be right. I died. It was my time.”
“No, it wasn’t!” Storm said, louder than intended. It didn’t echo like it should have, as if it was absorbed into the void. She took a deep breath. “No. You had so much time left to live.”
“It was cancer, Storm,” Khloe replied sadly. “No amount of magic could have changed that.”
Storm knew that from experience. She said, “I know. But when I bring you back you’ll be healthy again, I promise.”
Instead of answering, Khloe looked up, squinting. It was several long seconds before she spoke again. “I miss the sky,” she admitted. “Remember the day we met? The sky was so blue.”
Storm smiled a bit against her will. “I remember.” That day when they’d met and she had finally talked to someone for the first time since being exiled. Kloe had wrecked her boat on the island during a storm and so Storm had fixed it with magic, forgetting for a moment that it wasn’t something regular humans could do. She had feared being the object of ridicule yet again, but Kloe had simply stared in wonder before excitedly asking about a thousand questions a minute.
“I broke your necklace,” Storm said without thinking. “It was an accident. I’m really sorry.” The sight of the stone shattering onto the floor was still fresh in her memory.
“Oh, that’s okay,” Khloe said, laughing a little. “It was kind of tacky.”
Yeah, it was. But Storm loved it anyway, because it had been a gift from her.
“Why did you come back?” Storm found herself asking. “After I fixed your boat the first time and you left. Why did you keep coming back?”
“Because you were my friend,” Khloe said simply. “And because I missed you, after I left.”
“I missed you, too.” Storm remembered the day that Khloe died; she had been curled up sleeping on one of the guest beds and when Storm had gone to wake her in the morning she wasn’t breathing. She remembered raging about the sheer unfairness of it all, that she should get to live forever but someone as bright and loving as Khloe had numbered years. One immortal girl, one doomed to die early. “But I’m fixing that, see? Now, let’s go,” she said, holding out one hand. “Back to the land of the living.”
Khloe began to raise her hand to take Storm’s, but paused. “Wait- how did you manage this?”
Storm suddenly found it very hard to talk.
“The only way I know of would be the spell book,” Khloe said, biting her lip. “But that spell required souls.” Her eyes darted to Storm’s guilty expression, her avoidance of eye contact. Her face drained of all its color. “No. You didn’t- tell me you didn’t kill people just to bring me back.”
Storm flinched at her tone. “It was the only way!” she said. “I- I didn’t want to.”
Khloe crossed both arms in front of her chest, horror sprawled across her expression. “How many?” she asked, voice shaking.
“It doesn’t matter-”
“Tell me!” she yelled, and this was the angriest that Storm had ever seen her. “Please.”
Storm couldn’t meet her eyes. “Ten,” she said quietly. “Ten people.”
“Did you do it yourself?”
And Storm didn’t know what to say to that. Which would be worse for Khloe to hear, that she killed the ten people personally or that she made someone else? So she stayed silent.
Khloe shrunk back more, form flickering like a ghost’s did when it was scared.
“I’m truly sorry,” Storm said as sincerely as she could. “I hated every second of it. But please, if you don’t come back with me it’ll all have been for nothing.”
Khloe looked up at that and her eyes were wet. Her jaw was set, and Storm knew that look well; it was the look that she got when her mind was set on something. “No,” she said. “I’m not going.”
Storm felt her heart fracture and drop into her stomach. “What?”
“Do you really think I could live knowing that innocent people died so that I could?” Khloe asked incredulously. “I remember the resurrection spell well enough to know that you can’t make a soul come back from the afterlife. They have to choose to. And I’m choosing to stay here.”
“Wait, Khloe,” Storm started, holding up both hands as if to placate her.
“I had my time on earth,” Khloe said, steely resolve evident in every word. “This is where I belong now.
“Stop-!” Storm lurched forward in one last desperate attempt to reach her.
“Goodbye, Storm,” Khloe said, and faded into the abyss.
Storm’s eyes snapped open and she sat up, breathing heavily. She was lying on the floor of the light room in the lighthouse, surrounded by broken glass. The spell book was sitting near her right hand. Her head whipped around, squinting to see in the faint light of the moon and stars. Where Pangolin had been tied up only a few minutes ago there was a length of rope but nothing more.
She got to her feet, glass crunching under her heavy steps. Stumbled to the edge of the floor, to the windows looking out onto the ocean. The moon was full, burning with a pale intensity that bled into the night sky around it and shot veins of silver into the waves below. She leaned forward, one hand against the glass to steady herself.
There- a fair bit away from the island there was a little coffin-shaped boat bobbing along, the figure of Pangolin facing away from her, looking towards the horizon. The last guest, the murderer, the person whose copper hair shone like freshly spilled blood in the night. The only one that managed to get away.
Storm was alone again. In this infernal, silent lighthouse.
Suddenly fatigued, she slid to the floor, kneeling on the cold concrete. Her face felt cold, and she realized belatedly that there were tears painting her cheeks. She tasted salt.
Had it only been eight days ago when eleven guests had arrived with hope and happiness in their eyes? Storm had their lives in her hands and had chosen to give them to the ocean. And for what? There was no one left. Just her, and an island full of ghosts.
Dark clouds swept into the sky impossibly fast, obscuring the nighttime light and casting everything in deep, deep shadow. The wind sounded inexplicably mournful. Slowly, it began to rain, a drizzle bleeding into a steady stream of water.
She and the sky wept together until the sun returned to chase the storm away.
~~~
And that’s all, folks! I know this last day can certainly be confusing, so please ask any clarifying questions if you want to. I wrote and rewrote and rewrote this part over and over again, and even now I’m not totally satisfied with it, but it is what it is.
Thank you so, so much to everyone who stuck by me for this entire journey. Thank you to those who commented, especially pangolin, whose comments consistently made my day. I’m already planning another lodge (or two) so who knows where that’ll lead.
Signing off from Wayfarer Island,
~Storm (aka Silver Crystal)
(June 22, 2023 - 7:40 pm)
How did pangolin get away? And what is the point of the ending? That ten people were killed for no reason?
(June 22, 2023 - 7:58 pm)
Hi Sine! I'll try to answer your questions as un-confusingly as possible! Thank you for commenting :)
How did pangolin get away?
In the previous part it mentioned that she was struggling to get loose of her restraints (which were hastily tied), and basically it's assumed that she managed to wriggle free of them and sailed away.
What was is the point of the ending? That ten people were killed for no reason?
Okay, so the ten people dying is pretty Ski-Lodge standard; I always knew that was going to be the case. I wanted to create a scenario where the killings had a reason behind them, some sort of motivation to make it interesting. That's where the Storm/Khloe plot comes in.
At the risk of sounding kind of morbid, the point of the ending is that ten people were killed for no reason. Here me out: at the end of the day, I wanted to write a story that explored themes of love; specifically, how love can drive people to do irrational and illogical things. Love is such a powerful human emotion, and while it is a beautiful thing, there are other facets, which I've always found interesting. The point of this lodge is to show how people who care deeply about something or someone (in this case it's Storm's love for Khloe, which was always meant to be romantic but ended up more ambigious in the final version) will go to dangerous and destructive lengths to keep that love with them. I wanted to see a villian who did villianous things that was motivated not by anger or creepiness or jealousy, but love. So, yes, the point of the ending is to show that even though what Storm did came from a place of love, her actions were still horrible and ten people died for nothing and she deserved an unhappy ending. It's a tragedy, I'll admit, but it was always supposed to be, in my mind. I tend to gravitate towards stories with slightly sadder endings, which I totally understand is not everyone's thing. Regardless, I hope you didn't dislike the ending too much!
(June 22, 2023 - 9:36 pm)
OH MY GOODNESS OH MY GOODNESS I'M CRYING OH MY GOODNESS I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S OVER!!
Wow. That was so good. I don't even know what to say -- but I'll try.
THERE IS SO MUCH EMOTION IN THIS PART, WOW! The scene with Storm and Khloe was so intense and emotional and just so good! I feel like we got so much of Khloe's personality and her and Storm's backstory even though we just met her in this part. I love Storm's motive for killing the guests -- it was so fresh and original and unlike anything I've ever read in a ski lodge before.
And then the ending. Wow. I mean -- it was so sad and literally made me tear up. The imagery was on point and contributed to the mood and is just so impactful and adfhidnfjbk I'm obsessed with your writing and this ski lodge and just *gestures hopelessly* it's amazing. all of this is just so amazing and I'm so glad to have had the opportunity to read along and be a guest (and be the murderer! :D).
YOU FINISHED A SKI LODGE!! THATS SO AWESOME AND THIS SKI LODGE IS SO AWESOME AND AJSDFGJHGFDSK!!
this entire lodge was just SO GOOD. everything about it was absolutely spectacular. From the sharp and witty dialogue to your wonderfully developed host (STORMMM i love her character so muchhh augh) to the complex backstory behind the lodge to your beautiful and poignant and almost poetic imagery to your clever inclusion of clues and EPIC MURDERER REVEAL to your skillful portrayal of emotion -- specifically, grief following the death of a guest. it was all so well done and I loved every single word.
if you do write another ski lodge (or two?? :0) I would be very excited to join because knowing you and your writing and this ski lodge, it would be absolutely wonderful. (but y'know take your time with planning and such and i don't want to make you feel pressured or anything) <33
and I'm so glad my comments were able to make your day! <333
(June 22, 2023 - 8:18 pm)
Thank you pangolin!! Your words always mean so much to me <333
This might just be my favorite reaction to my writing I've ever received ever! To know that you actually got emotional makes me so happy (even tho I'm sorry for making you sad haha). I don't suppose telling you that Storm and Khloe were originally meant to be a tragic love story and that in this version they were still very much in love with each other but didn't have enough time to act on it in the short time Khloe was alive will make it better, will it?
Also, ironically, most of the 'clues' that made it into the lodge (ex. the daisy dream showing Sterling's innocence, the way you were positioned during Wildsong's mission, etc) were completely on accident and I only realized what some of them meant after you all pointed them out to me.
I'm so glad that you liked it so much, thank you once again for your support! Also, I haven't forgotten about your picrew, I'll post it tomorrow :)
(June 22, 2023 - 9:21 pm)
AMAZING! I love the way you ended it, all nicely tied up like a pretty bow! I definitely want to be a part of your next ski lodges, because I'm sure they will be as good as this one! I had such a fun time reading along. Great work!
(June 23, 2023 - 6:52 am)
Thank you for reading along and taking the time to comment, it means a lot!!
(June 24, 2023 - 2:43 pm)
I - that's just - wow. Okay.
Before I write anything more, I want to say I'm so sorry I haven't been commenting consistently! I've been busy the last few parts, so I only had time to read through them all now. But this is an absolutely fantastic ski lodge.
I loved reading the scene with Storm and Khloe. It was so interesting to see the contrast in their characters and how ultimately nothing Storm did to bring Khloe back mattered because of Khloe's morals. I also love how Storm's not painted as a completely bad person or a completely good one - just a complicated one. It's not black and white, it's gray. That's such a hard balance to create, but you nailed it.
I agree with pangolin, too, that MURDER REVEAL! I loved pangolin's character just as much as I loved Storm's. Unless I've misunderstood, it seems like it really was just Storm's magic that made them kill. I thought their awareness of this, and their determination to do whatever they could to save the souls they'd killed, was… I can't even think of a word. Just wow.
Anyway, this was just amazing. I'm so happy I was able to read and be part of it. And of course, if you do end up writing other ski lodges, I'd love to read them! Thank you for this outstanding story <3
(June 23, 2023 - 7:09 am)
Ahh thank you so much!! I really did try and get Storm into that moral gray area, so I'm glad that other people picked up on it. Your comments were always so thoughtful, thank you so much for reading along!!
(June 24, 2023 - 2:45 pm)
This has literally been one of my favorite ski lodges ever--granted, this is the first ski lodge i've joined, but i have read along with a lot of others, and this one was just...so good. Like *cue applause* SO GOOD! I kinda missed the last parts so I read them this morning, but. Great job. I loved every minute of it.
(June 24, 2023 - 8:23 am)
Oh my gosh, thank you so much! I had so much fun writing it so it's always great to know that you had a good time reading along. Thanks for all of your thoughtful comments :)
(June 24, 2023 - 2:47 pm)
I'm speechless. This was an incredible ski-lodge! I'm breathtaken by your sheer amount of writing prowess. I loved being in it (as Echo, ahahaha) and--dying--wow, that sounds morbid. But I'm proud to have participated in this.
Thank you so much for hosting us on Wayfarer Island!
(June 24, 2023 - 8:36 am)