Lighthouse Horror Podcast - I Got a Job as a FIRE LOOKOUT. Station 5 Has a Strange List of Rules | Scary Stories

Episode Date: October 20, 2023

I'm trapped here...      Story from Colourblindness Make sure to check out more of their work at u/Colourblindness                           Original Post: I hired a lookalike to pretend to be me. They are doing a better job than I expected. : r/nosleep  Original YouTube link: I Got a Job as a FIRE LOOKOUT. Station 5 Has a Strange List of Rules      For more stories like this one, check out my YouTube channel: Lighthouse Horror | YouTube  Patreon: Lighthouse Horror | Patreon Merch: lighthousehorror.com  Music: Lucas King - YouTube Myuu - YouTube  Incompetech Darren Curtis Music - YouTube  Thank you for listening to this scary story! If you enjoyed this new creepypasta story, please check out some of my other horror stories. We'll be uploading new episodes every week, featuring ghost stories, haunted encounters, mysteries, true stories, creepypasta, and anything supernatural and paranormal. Don't miss out on the thrill and suspense that await you in each episode!

When I got the call that I had a chance to spend a summer as a fire lookout, I really thought it had to be a joke. I have been on that waiting list for two years. I almost forgot I put in an application. If you need something that pays immediately, this is not the job for you. It's for people willing to sacrifice time and energy, being stuck for months in the middle of nowhere. To me, it felt like a dream come true. I've always been to be able to be able to I've always loved the outdoors and even though I knew taking this job would mean I'd be away from home for months. I wanted it.

I was so excited to have this chance that I didn't think about the isolation until I got there. It's not that I want a future in forestry or anything, but this kind of job looks good on your resume, even though it's fairly easy and laid back. At least that's what I thought. I thought this was going to be a few easy, simple, simple, months, and my biggest worry would be figuring out how to fight the boredom. And that's honestly how it all started. I arrived in a forest ranger jeep. The guy driving hardly said two words to me on the ride up the mountain. When we finally got into the deep woods,

he did start to talk. Not many people out this way. Not many fires either. He said. At least I think that's what he said, but maybe I was nervous. I wasn't getting a good cell phone signal, and something told me it would be worse when I made it to the lookout. So why'd the last guy leave or quit or whatever? I asked my driver as we went over a bump. The driver slowed down as we approached an old wooden bridge. I could feel the entire structure wobble as we drove over it, very anxiety-inducing. And as we did, This dude finally opened up. I mean, he couldn't stop talking about the story surrounding the last ranger. He told me that the last ranger that worked this job hadn't actually left.

He died while on duty. In fact, the rumor was that he took his own life. A bullet to the brain couldn't take the isolation. I thought maybe the driver was trying to scare me, but he was dead serious. He also mentioned that they took the service pistol away, so no one else got the same crazy idea. And then he left me in my small backpack of supplies at the foot of the lookout. No fanfare or even a horn honk.

For the next few months, I was going to be completely alone. So what did I bring? Honestly, a lot less than I should have. I had my chargers, my phone, my flashlight, and a few good books. These were my basics. And then I brought a few changes of clothes and some snacks, nothing major. I was told there would be instructions about how the supply drops were handed out here, so I felt pretty secure about supplies.

I took in the sight in woods as I climbed the wooden stairs at the top of the lookout. The forest surrounded me in every direction, evergreens and mountains. It was so beautiful that I almost forgot. what my driver had said. But it didn't take me long to remember when I made it to the top and pushed open the door. There was still some dried blood staining the carpet where the previous lookout had decided to take his life. And that was enough to dampen my mood. So I focused on trying to make this place home. These towers aren't exactly designed for privacy. windows all around so I could see in any direction.

And there was no actual heat source besides an old wood-burning stove. I guess that was where I was expected to cook. I put my supplies on the table and took off my boots, worn out from the trip. I laid down on the bed. And that was when I felt something hard underneath a pillow. I pulled it out, realizing it was a book. As I opened it, a flimsy piece of paper drifted out to the wooden floor below. Dropping the book, I chased after the paper, snatching it up as I leaned back on the bed.

All lookouts must follow these rules while occupying the tower, the top of the note said. It was a short list, but I found the rules to be a little strange. Number one. Lights out after 10 p.m. No electronics after this hour. Number two, supply drops are every Monday and Thursday. Use red flare to request extra. Use blue flare to indicate no supplies needed. Do not use them together.

Number three, absolutely no guest in the lookout. Number four, safe combination is 8913 open only if necessary. Number five, radio transmissions should be logged and send to HQ every Sunday. Don't make copies for yourself or others. Number six, if reporting of fire, use the emergency phone. No other emergencies will be handled using this method.

And number seven, remember to call your sister station before you sleep. I studied that list, taking out a pack of ritz crackers and sitting at the table. It didn't look very official, you know, so I guess that the previous rangers had come up with these requirements. And that was why there was a few missing pieces of information.

Like, why would I need to open the safe? What exactly was even in there? Or how was I supposed to handle other emergencies besides fires? I wasn't sure what to make of it, but I pinned them to the refrigerator, and I looked outside to the east. In the distance, I could see the next lookout, my sister station. Better get to work, I thought to myself. as I found the radio and turned it on. Since cell phones don't work around here, this would be my only

communication. Morning from Station 5 on Sentinel Creek, I said. Since there was no telling when I'd get a response, I put the radio down on the table, and I sorted out my other supplies. There wasn't much on the shelves in the tower, a few board games, and some books to read once I finished mine. I checked the one that I'd found under my pillow, realizing it was probably the journal of the previous ranger. Unfortunately, it was written in what looked like French, so I wouldn't be able to figure that out any time soon. Odd they hired someone who doesn't speak the local language, I thought.

I kind of squirled away and organized the lookout for the rest of my shift, until it was time to go to bed. And then I sent a transmission to my sister station, telling them I was signing off for the day. To my surprise, this time they replied, saying they would be active for the next 12 hours. Hey there, starting to wonder if anyone was out there, I said into the speaker. But no reply came, leading me to guess, whoever was in the other station wasn't much for conversation. I got ready for bed and I settled down. I even shut off my cell phone, even though I knew it didn't work out here.

Best to listen to the rules. And then it was time for sleep. The next day was Thursday, which meant a supply drop. I tried to ask my sister station where that would happen, but I got no response. So I spent most of the morning using my binoculars to scan the horizon for helicopter. Finally around 10 a.m., the radio chirped with static and announced a drop had been made. Which surprised me. I hadn't seen any drop, and I'd been watching for most of the morning. I climbed down the stairs of the lookout, and I was surprised to see three crates in a meadow less than 500 yards away.

Maybe they drove them up here, I thought, as I opened one of them. This was probably the first red flag since my arrival, but I was surprised to find that the first box contained nothing except rifle ammunition. It weighed a ton. I decided to carry as much as I could, and I left the rest in the crate, wondering if this was meant to scare away bears or something. They probably want us to protect ourselves, I thought. When I returned to get the second crate. The other boxes were gone. Had they thought I didn't need the rest of the supplies?

I tried to call over to my sister station to ask, but as usual, no response. Okay, guess this means I'll be eating crackers until Monday, I said to myself. And then I remembered the flares. I found the box and I took out the red one, stood out on my balcony, and I fired it into the air. A long streak of red shot across the sky and then static filled the radio. Extra supply drop confirmed. The voice sounded robotic and it made the way. me wonder where they were watching me from. At the base of the stairs, I found another

three crates. This time, I chose the one to my right. It had a few loaves of bread, lunch meat, and cheese. Exactly what I was hoping for. I couldn't take it all with me, and just like before, when I came back, the crates were gone. Checking the red flares, I counted that I had six altogether. I'll ask for more supplies another day, I thought to myself as I prepared my lunch. I was already starting to feel the loneliness of this place. The strangeness I'd seen so far was not enough to cause alarm now. And so, when I signed off that night, I told myself that it was just another quirk of the job. Over the first week, I settled into a very simple routine.

Every day kind of just blended into the next. I finished my first book by the middle of the week, and I was honestly starting to get cabin fever. Contact with the other station was about the same. I never heard more than two words from him when I signed off for the night, and he never checked on me. I began to wonder whether anyone was over there at all. After all, the ranger that brought me up here hadn't said anything about a sister station or rules. What if the previous lookout had made those rules just to mess with me? Of course, I also didn't know for sure who wrote the rules, but so far I followed him.

I almost opened the safe on Friday just out of curiosity, but something told me that was a really bad idea. I didn't start to feel uneasy until I was almost finished with my second week, when I realized that I hadn't received a single radio transmission. And then on Sunday, I got a request from HQ to turn in all necessary communications. I mean, was I supposed to trek over to the sister station and pick up theirs? I had nothing better to do. So I grabbed my gear and started to hike towards the West Rise. The terrain was brutal.

Now, keep in mind, this was the middle of June, and temperatures are already starting to rise. On a normal day, it could be 90 to rise. degrees and that would be considered cool. The day I decided to hike, it was almost a hundred degrees with no breeze. I paused about halfway through the woods to set up a marker. I figured by the time I returned it would be sunset. I was kind of hoping that whoever was stationed at the Western Rise might offer a drink or two and we could kind of shoot the shit, you know.

I was kind of desperate for some sort of human contact. But something happened before I got a chance to find out. After hiking for about an hour, a shadow crossed my vision. I looked up between the trees and I saw what looked like a skinned deer carcass. It was dangling upside down on a trip wire between two strong fir trees and there was a bucket underneath to catch the droplets of blood. looked like a fresh kill, because blood was still slicking down the antlers into the bucket. I saw signs of freshly pressed grass that told me someone had been there recently.

And then I heard a noise from the thicket, and I instinctively pulled out my firearm. A tall man entered the clearing. His face was covered, and he was wearing traditional hunting gear, like he'd been out here for quite some time. One thing was certain, this was not the ranger I hoped to meet. I warned him not to make any sudden movements, but to my surprise, he fell down into the grass and started to convulse. I realized that he must have been lost in the woods for a while, and he just collapsed the moment he saw me. I checked his vitals, and then I looked to see where the sun was in the sky. I'd have to take the stranger with me to the sister station. So I pulled him onto my shoulder. He was barely conscious and

mumbling. I couldn't understand a single word he said. It sounded like French or maybe Russian. I decided not to worry about it and I focused on the trail ahead. The stranger was heavy and I was exhausted already. The added weight wasn't making my hike any easier and the sun was starting to set. And when I finally reached the clearing by the station. I was confused. It looked identical to my own. I laid the stranger at the foot of the stairs, and I ran up calling out to the Ranger. When I got to the top, I discovered the lookout was empty, and it was an exact replica of my own. Now look, I mean, I know that sounds crazy, but I've been at this moment. I've been at this place for almost a month, I have had nothing to do but memorize every single detail.

And this was like looking in a mirror. I stepped towards the balcony, and I looked towards the rise. The surrounding forest looked familiar too, as if I'd somehow gone in circles. This wasn't possible. I have a really good sense of direction, actually. I never get lost. I sighed in frustration, and I reached for the radio to send out a transmission. This is sentient peak.

I'm reporting a hunter down near the lookout tower. Please send rescue crews immediately, I told them. But there was no response at all. I went back down to the base of the lookout to see how the stranger was doing, and he was gone. I became immediately super alert of everything around me. Something was very wrong about this place. I'd felt it since arriving, but now I was certain of it. I went back to the lookout, and I sent out an SOS, and then I went to the red phone and attempted to dial headquarters.

This wasn't a fire, but it was an emergency. And all I got was static. I've never felt uncomfortable in the woods, but this really put me on edge. I was alone here. The sun was setting, and the stranger had disappeared. Even though I didn't want to, I knew I needed rest. I put one of the chairs against the door as a blockade, and I slept in an old leatherback recliner.

The night was empty and silent. The next day, my unease grew to a boiling point. I tried to survey and map the area, but it was no use. I would go out as far as I could, mark the trees, and then return to the lookout. But when I went back to find those same marks, they were always gone. The only time I ever saw signs of life were the supply drops and the occasional dead deer. By the end of the week, I knew that I was trapped. here, but I didn't know why. This place was experiencing something very supernatural. Of that,

I was sure. Every day was identical to the last. It was a groundhog day effect. It made me wonder how the supply drops even worked. If this was some kind of time loop, these supplies don't fit into the equation. And so I focused on the rules. The strange list I was supposed to follow. I've already used the red phone and nothing bad happened. Maybe it was time to break the other rules. So I used the code for the safe to see what was inside. And I don't know what I was expecting, but a VHS tape was not high on my list. I looked around the cabin and I found an old rabbit ears TV with a VCR building. I connected it and I put the tape in. And I found I found myself staring at a recording of myself, except that this version of me had been

here for much, much longer. As I listened to the words on the tape, my gut dropped and my heart raised. It's been three years, two months, and seventeen days since I took up the position as a look out here on the peak. I have exhausted all means of escape except for this. When I opened the safe, there was a tape with a recording just like this one, except the video showed a much older version of me trapped here for almost five years. I think that by recording over it, I can shorten the time I'm trapped here, or maybe bring an end to this once and for all. When I finish this recording, I'll be taking all my supplies and heading into the woods as far as I can make it.

I hope that when you see this, it'll help you. Good luck. The recording said, it ended right there, and it spit the tape out. My mouth felt dry as I looked towards the horizon, and I considered the implications. I think it meant that the people who run this place were behind my entrapment. I tried to radio HQ again. This time I left a different message. This is Station 5.

I'm signing off permanently from this location and setting this tower on fire. heard me. I'm not going to be your lab rat anymore. I am turning this place to ash, I said into the receiver. And as usual, there was no response. Frustrated by the silence, I pushed over furniture and I piled up books, and then I started a fire, and I kept it going full power until I was sure would spread. Grabbing my fangs along with a diary and the flare guns, I left the lookout with the smell of smoke behind me. I didn't look back to watch the place burn, and I'm honestly not sure how long I traveled until I found another dead deer. I set my gear down, and I waited for the stranger. He was a part of this. I knew it. I wasn't sure if the strange poacher was another very very

version of myself or not, but I thought maybe he'd have answers. I kept my gun ready, and I waited for his arrival. It was nearly midnight when he finally came. This time, he didn't seem surprised to find me. Sit down, I ordered. He complied, and I ordered him to take off his mask so I could see his face. And when he did, it was just some young kid I'd never met. Disappointed, I started asking questions, how long he'd been here, what this time

loop was, and who was behind it all. And he began to speak in a different language, and I realized who he was. You wrote the rules, I said, and I took out the diary and I tossed it to him, demanding a translation, but all he did was babble in a foreign language. And then I don't know what came over me. It was like my anger and frustration grew to such a point that I aimed the gun and I fired without even thinking. The stranger looked down at the blood gushing from his chest, and to my surprise, he smiled.

He said something else, and if I had to wager a guess, I think he was saying thank you. He fell to the ground as I watched an abject horror, wondering if I just shot an innocent man. The only thing I could do now was use the flare guns, and this time I fired three red flares. The stupid rules had never helped me the whole time I was here, I thought. Nothing happened at first, and then I heard the sound of a helicopter rotor. I looked up and I saw it approaching with a spotlight on me. I probably looked like a mountain man, but I didn't care. I waved my arms frantically until they landed.

And as soon as I saw the people inside, my excitement turned to anger as I realized they'd been monitoring everything. I aimed my gun at them and I ordered them to let me aboard. The men let me in and also picked up the corpse of the stranger, checking a tattoo on his side, which had the Roman numeral 12 on it. And as we lifted off, they asked me a simple question that I hadn't even stopped to think about. Why did you break the rules? I took a moment to stare down at the fiery remains of Sentinel Peak.

I was desperate, I said. I needed out. It was the only thing I had left. They just nodded, and they set an update over the radio. We have subject 13 on board, they said. And before I could ask what that meant, I felt the sharp sting in my neck, and the world went black. I woke up in a military hospital, and the ranger that first recruited me brought me a hefty paycheck

and a waiver I was told the sign, which I assume was meant to bind my silence. I had so many questions, and I needed answers. I was your guinea pig for almost two months. I deserve to know the truth, I said. He thought it over, and then he offered me something else, instead of answers, a job. He told me that the only way to find the truth would be to go back to the lookout and agree to the experiment. My hands were shaking, but I signed the agreement. I know this is a mistake, but I feel drawn to this place.

It's like I'm trapped there. It's the only time I've ever felt a part of something beyond my understanding. I am scared to return, if I'm being honest. But part of me also thinks that I never left. The lookout never burned. I never killed the poacher. And I never did get rescued. That all of this was just a part of their experiment to see what rules I would break.

Maybe it was to test my limits. So when I return and everything resets, I'll be tested in new ways, given new rules, while I try to keep my sanity. I may go crazy, but I want to know the truth. This is Station 5 of Sentinel Peak. I'm signing on.