The following story is taken from the entries of a diary written by lighthouse keeper Thomas Marshall.  Although the diary itself is fictitious, the names and basic facts are true and are based on an event that occurred in December 1900 when three lighthouse keepers mysteriously disappeared on the island of Eilean Mor off the coast of Scotland.

 

The diary of Thomas Marshall (lighthouse keeper, aged 28)

 

Wednesday 12th December 1900

10:45am

“The sky is heavy and dark grey from horizon to horizon and a damp mist and drizzle hangs in the air.  There is also a constant wind, never abating or taking time to draw breath.  It creates a constant rumble around the short craggy coastline of this island.  The atmosphere is eerie to say the least.  We have been here just over a week now and have settled in well for the most part.  It is not such a burden to be stuck here with Donald and James who seem amicable enough.  We each have our duties to keep us busy which is a disguised blessing as without them I think the isolation here would be enough to drive an unoccupied mind quite mad.”

 

1:30pm

“We have just finished a hearty lunch of soup and bread.  As I drink my tea I am looking out of one of the small windows at the horizon where the frothy white crests of waves rise and fall.  Large raindrops are splattering upon the window pane and dark clouds loom all around us.  The barometer has plummeted to 955 millibars within the last half hour (a record for this lighthouse).  We are to set out around the island in the next hour to ensure all is well and secure before the storm sets in.”

 

3:15pm

“The beginning of the storm is now upon us and I am well glad to be indoors once again.  James and myself walked the perimeter of the island, I one way and him the other and we were to meet back at the lighthouse.  I checked all was well at the east landing.  The waves were high and the wind deafening. At one point I swore I heard a woman’s scream and glimpsed the flesh of a body between two waves, but straining both my eyes and ears I saw and heard nothing more.  On my return walk the wind literally blew me back to the lighthouse, its mighty force pushing at my back, almost ushering me where it wanted.  Once there I could see no sign of James and so called his name, but my voice was pathetic against the mighty gusts and was simply carried out to sea. I walked to the west landing where the sea was ferocious but there was no sign of James.  I headed back up to the remains of the old stone chapel and upon entering found both a little shelter from the wind and James standing in the centre of the ruin with his back to me.  He only acknowledged me after I had called his name a few times.  I asked what he was doing but he seemed confused and unable to answer.  After a short while he returned to his senses and we headed back to the lighthouse. Once inside I lit a fire, quite surprised that Donald had let it go out.  Upon rising from the fireplace and looking out of the window I saw Donald standing totally naked outside facing toward the sea.  After some time and persuasion I cajoled him back inside.  He had no knowledge of why or how he ended up either naked or outside.  I can only guess the extreme weather is causing this bizarre behaviour.  I have heard many tales of sailors and lighthouse keepers going mad during storms but never put much faith in them.  If this be the case, I pray the weather will improve soon.”

 

6:30pm

“We have just finished our meal.  Both James and Donald were strangely quiet as if not fully present in the moment.  I still cannot fathom what has brought on their strange condition.  We have had the same food and drink and I do not seem to be afflicted by this trance-like state they are suffering.  The storm appears to be in full force outside and the constant hum of the wind around the lighthouse is painful to the ears.  The barometer reading has fallen even more so to just below 950 millibars.  It has been a strange day to say the least and once we have checked the lighthouse light is in order we have agreed we would all benefit from a warm drink and an early night.”

 

11:00pm

“I was abruptly awoken about an hour ago by a thumping on the front door of the lighthouse.  I was first down the stairs and met James in the hall.  We unlocked and opened the front door which forcefully blew inwards pushing us back into the corridor.  There was nothing to be seen outside but the blades of grass dancing wildly in the glow of the moonlight.  We both swore we had heard loud banging on the door but there was nothing to be seen and there were no stray objects around that could have hit the door to cause the sound.  We pushed the door closed and secured it with the bolts before returning upstairs.  Donald had remained fast asleep in his bed throughout.  I am now struggling to return to sleep.  Disturbing thoughts and images enter my mind as soon as I close my eyes and the sound of the wind, waves and rain is relentless.”

 

Thursday 13th December 1900

10:00am

“I was first to arise this morning at around 6am having not had a very restful night at all.  Vivid dreams and sounds plagued me all night.  James and I drank our coffee by the fire-place briefly discussing the night before and waiting for Donald to awake.  At 8am we went to check on him and upon entering his room came upon a dreadful site.  He was laid face down on his bed covered by his sheets which were drenched in his blood.  At first we thought he was dead as he appeared lifeless but upon some vigorous shaking he partially came around.  Upon examining his body we found numerous wounds as if some plague of rats had been gnawing at him in the night.  We got him up, bathed him and tended to his cuts before putting him back into a clean bed.  He remained weary and incoherent. We checked all around for signs of rodents or any other explanation for his inflictions but could find none. There is a strange atmosphere all around the lighthouse like we are not alone.  James has also felt it and is becoming disturbingly withdrawn.  The storm is not letting up and the wind and waves are of the likes I have never seen before.”

 

1:30pm

“Myself and James did the daily duties as best we could while Donald remained in bed.  I thought to signal the mainland for help by use of the light but the visibility is very poor.  Relief is set to come on the 20th December, though if the storm remains in place no ship will be able to anchor on or near the island.  While up cleaning the lighthouse lenses I heard the front door slam shut and then saw Donald naked once again outside walking into the old chapel.  I ran down the stairs and out into the gale.  I staggered against the wind and ran toward the chapel, the rain pelting down and stinging my skin.  When I got there and entered there was no sign of Donald. I was about to turn and leave but struggled to do so. It was as if something was urging me to stay put. My feet were rooted to the ground. I felt an ominous presence all around me.  I broke into a sweat and was in sheer panic.  My brain was screaming for me to turn and run but I could not do so. I swear I felt malevolent hands upon me as if about to strike or stab.  Then an immense gust loosened some stone upon the roof and I broke just enough from the trance to regain my movement.  I ran frantically back to the lighthouse and bolted the door behind me.  James met me in the hall and we both ran up to Donald’s room. He was still laid in his bed with no signs of having moved.  I was sure I had seen him.  I told James I am not going to go outside again until the storm abates or the relief boat arrives.”

 

9:00pm

“James and I spent most of the day together in the kitchen by the fire.  We’ve agreed it’s best to stay within each other’s site.  We didn’t talk much and it is sometimes difficult to hear each other above the roar of the storm.  Either the barometer has broken or the reading is below the scale it can register.  Also our clocks keep stopping and the canary has stopped eating and just sits huddled in the corner of his cage. When the clock does work I look at it and try with all my mind to push time forward bringing the end of the storm and the arrival of help from the mainland. I am not ashamed to admit I am scared. I feel like we are being watched and all have the mark of death upon us.”

 

Friday 14th December

11:00am

 “I can only think the right thing to do is to write about the events of last night so there is some kind of record should James and I not survive.  I am glad daylight has arrived but am still shaking with terror so please forgive my handwriting.  I woke at around 1am though had slept little before this. I rose to relieve myself and then went to my window which looks out to the front of the lighthouse.  After a short time Donald emerged out of the gloom, walking through the front gate and down toward the chapel. I opened my mouth to shout his name but nothing came out, not that it would have done any good. As he approached the chapel I fought with my conscience.  I so wanted to go out and bring him back inside but I was struck with fear and also wasn’t sure if my eyes were deceiving me once more.  He stopped a short distance outside the ruins of the chapel for just a moment before a line of the most divine women bereft of their clothes emerged one by one from inside the chapel. They formed a circle facing inwards surrounding him.  Then four of them approached him and began to carefully undress him before placing their hands upon his naked body clearly much to his delight.  Then they laid him on the floor and bound his hands and feet with rope before pegging the ends of the rope into the earth with sturdy metal stakes.  As he lay there powerless, each in turn from the circle that surrounded him came and sat upon him, bucking and writhing violently on his groin, gleefully taking him inside them.  At a guess about fifteen of them took their turn before re-joining the circle until finally a shape emerged from inside the chapel. I cannot give an accurate description of the entity as it was a large black shadowy mass compared to the bright naked flesh bodies that danced around it.  All I could make out was a muscular torso covered in black fur.  It must have stood around 8 feet tall and had what appeared to be a set of leathery wings that had a span of around 10 feet when unfurled.  The figure stood in the circle before its two red demonic eyes looked up and stared in my direction.  As they did I felt my body turn to ice as if my soul had been sucked right out of me. Before I could move to hide, the entity seemed to swirl in the ferocious wind and then melt away into the night. No sooner had it gone, the beautiful nubile women turned into something gravely different of which again I can hardly describe.  A mass of wild grey hair and distorted pointy features, crouching and scuttering around on all fours. All at once they set upon Donald like a pack of dogs and squealing in the manner of pigs before slaughter as they did so.  They clawed at his body, peeling away his flesh with their bare fingernails and biting off his toes, fingers, nose and ears. Donald’s face contorted with agony as mouths bit into his skin and ripped it away. I tried to avert my gaze but couldn’t.  They pounded his body with immense force, breaking it open at the front before tearing his rib cage open.  I watched the remains of Donald’s mutilated mouth gaping wide open giving out a scream that I could not hear as they forcefully yanked out his internal organs, rocking his tattered torso from side to side at they pulled and fought over his innards . The huddled mass then cleared as the women, if I can call them that, dispersed with blood smeared mouths and parts of Donald in their hands and mouths.  They dragged what was left of his body along the sodden grass inside the chapel along with his strewn and scattered body parts.  Then all was quiet.  I cannot remember how long I sat there on my stool transfixed on the chapel, still unsure if what I just saw was real.  My next recollection was James knocking on my door at daylight.  I rushed past him to Donald’s room and was violently sick when he was nowhere to be found. I slowly told James all I had seen through my window.  We looked out toward the chapel but there was no sign of the madness I had witnessed.  The heavy rain and wind must have washed away all trace. We checked and double checked the whole lighthouse for Donald. I am sure we both thought of going outside to search but the terror that filled me with just the idea of going anywhere near the chapel made me keep my lips tightly closed to the suggestion.”

 

 

4:00pm

 “We signalled an SOS to the mainland early this afternoon but have little faith anyone will have seen it.  We have not even seen any passing ships come within our visibility.  I have never known a storm rage for this long before.  We have both heard disturbing noises throughout the day.  James said he heard an ungodly cackle whereas I thought I heard a scream from Donald.  Both sounds came from the direction of the chapel.  We have agreed to not sleep tonight if we can and to stay together in the kitchen by the fire.  James has taken to carrying a bible with him at all times and is constantly recanting passages from it under his breath.  The walls of the lighthouse rumble like something is trying to get in.  The front door rattles and bangs sometimes too much for it to be just the wind.  All we can do now is sit and wait.  The storm has us trapped and something waits outside within it. We cannot escape.  They are coming.”

 

10:30pm

 “James is asleep in a chair opposite me as I write this by the small fire in the kitchen.  We have hardly moved from this spot all day, only to relieve ourselves and to check the light and then the bolts on the front door.  I am so tired.  I just want to sleep.”

 

 

Saturday 15th December 1900

 8:15am

 “It is daylight once again.  I thank God I survived the wretched night of horrors that has just passed.  At just before midnight I was awoken by an immense banging from the front door as if a cannonball had been fired upon it.  After more banging which reverberated throughout the whole lighthouse, there was a sound of splintered wood and I was sure the front door had been smashed open.  I shouted at James who was still in a daze after sleeping and we sprang to our feet, grabbed our coats and bolted out of the small back door into the ferocious night.  I instinctively followed James who headed towards the west landing point.  We could barely see where we were going with just the light from the lighthouse illuminating our way now and then as it turned and blinked.  Behind us ungodly screeches echoed and swirled in the turbulent air and began to head our way.  James ran toward the landing point before ducking in amongst some rocks where I followed him and we both hid. We tried to stifle our frantic panting as we huddled in the small alcove.  I’m not ashamed to admit that we held each other in shear fright as demonic animalistic screams and calls came out from all around the island.  They were searching for us.  At first the screams were far away but minute by minute they came closer until one was almost upon us.  We sat frozen as whatever it was let out a screech just metres from us.  We waited and heard it move away.  But then out of the dark a huge clawed hand with long powerful talons grabbed James and dragged him from me. I watched in horror as he was violently ripped away from me across the grass into the darkness, his desperate screams for help fading into the night.  In the gloom I saw him clutch onto some railings in a vain attempt to resist his captors, but after more violent tugging from the dark mass holding his legs the railings buckled and he disappeared into the inky blackness.  A cacophony of wails heralded their victory, like the call of a hundred banshees.  I put my hands over my ears, squeezed my eyes shut and waited for my turn.  But nothing.  After a few minutes I plucked up the courage to open my eyes and remove my hands from my ears.  Just the storm and a distant sound of cackling in the direction of the chapel.  I was cold, wet and vulnerable and so mustered up the strength to run back to the lighthouse.  I glanced left, right and behind me all the way there, petrified of what lurked in the dark. After what felt like an eternity I made it back to the lighthouse and entered through the back door, locking it behind me.  I rushed to the front door to secure it only to find it closed and securely bolted.  I retreated back to the kitchen and shut myself in a cupboard behind boxes of supplies.  I sat in the cold damp dark with only the howl of the wind for company.  How was the door still intact?  The noises, the screams, the claw.  It was all real.  I covered myself in some old cloth sacks and eventually fell into some kind of sleep.

 

A shaft of light coming from underneath the cupboard door woke me.  Daylight.  I groggily pulled myself up to my feet and delicately opened the cupboard door.  The storm had calmed a little.  A toppled chair lay on the kitchen floor after our sudden exit that night.  I crouched in front of the fire and stoked the remains to try to bring it back to life. I wept a little at the thought of what had become of James and soon possibly myself.  If the storm carried on easing maybe I would be safe and help would soon be here.  A chink of sunlight appeared from behind the clouds and I opened my diary to write this account of the horrors of the night.”

 

 

 

11:00am

 “The winds are easing by the hour and the barometer is back in action.  I have been around most of the lighthouse and put everything in order though the light does not seem to be working. Now the weather is more clement I feel the evil may have passed and am inclined to go outside but still fear what I may find. I will try to eat a good meal first and then muster the courage for my former colleagues’ sakes.”

 

1:00pm

 “I have decided I must go outside to the old chapel.  It is my duty not only as a keeper of this lighthouse but also as a friend to James and Donald.  I pray to God that I find nothing and return good and well.”

 

4:00pm

 “I have found the remains of an old rickety rowing boat smashed against the west landing point by the storm.  It is the worse for wear but it floats.  I have loaded it with some rations, my diary and what I could find of the skeletal remains of Donald and James. I am to give them a burial at sea away from this foul place.  I left the lighthouse earlier today and visited the remains of the chapel.  The birds had feasted that morning but were clearly not in the mood for the taste of bone.  As I woefully surveyed the site of carnage the fog over my mind cleared. I began to remember.  I remembered banging on the front door during the night causing James to come down from bed to join me in the hall.  I remembered preparing a tainted drink for Donald to make him sleep deeply before entering his room and gnawing on his flesh.  I did the same again the night after and can still see the blackness of his blood and guts covering my hands and upon the wet grass in the moonlight.  The feel of his entrails slipping through my hands like a wet rope as I pulled them out of him.  His screams of pain lost in the storm as I dug my fingers beneath his eyeballs and pulled them from their sockets.  I remembered running out into the night following James to the rocks, and there, hidden amongst them, my freezing cold wet hands clutching tightly around his throat until he passed out.  I remembered dragging him along the grass and then him coming to and grabbing the railings for dear life.  I remembered tugging his writhing body back to the chapel where I pummelled the heavy boulders from the ruins onto his knees, chest and face, squashing his body to a bloody pulp before tearing it apart consuming some and scattering the rest around the chapel.  And then I fell to my knees and sobbed. What evil, what madness had come upon during that storm? Or was it just me?  So I must leave.  I cannot be sure what will happen should I stay.  The clouds are gathering again and another storm approaches.  I am not going to spend another night here and am leaving before the sun goes down.  I will row north-west and let God’s hand guide me to wherever he sees fit.”

 

8:00pm

 “I have thrown the remains of James and Donald overboard – God rest their souls.  The sea is dead calm but all along the horizon there are lightning strikes and rumbles of thunder. I row out to sea but make little progress.  By the light of my oil lamp I see figures in the water.  Beautiful mermaids tugging at my boat, pulling me back to the island. I drifted into a sleep earlier and saw myself back there in the chapel entering a hidden vault beneath some stones.  A voice telling me to return and rest for a hundred years or so and then rise again when dark forces rule the world once more.  I cannot resist.  The storm is coming.”

 

 

 

On the 26th December after days of bad weather the relief ship “Hesperus” was finally able to make land at the Flannan Lighthouse on the island of Eilean Mor.  There was no trace of any of the three lighthouse keepers.  The clocks in the lighthouse had stopped.  Just one oilskin coat (Donald’s) was left on its hook.  A chair was left overturned in the kitchen.  Iron railings near the west landing had been bent over.  There was no record of a storm in the area around the island between 12th-14th December on any official weather report despite the lighthouse logs recording one. The bodies of Thomas Marshall, Donald Macarthur and James Ducat were never found.