Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - 10 Rules for Surviving the Night Shift at a Haunted Lighthouse | Part 2
Episode Date: July 1, 2026Listen to all 3 parts now with a 7-day FREE TRIAL of Dr. NoSleep Premium: patreon.com/drnosleep – Cancel anytime. No commitment. Huge thanks to our sponsors: BetterHelp: Sign up n...ow and get 10% off at betterhelp.com/dns. Shopify: You don’t need anyone’s approval to make a living. Build your own business with a free trial at shopify.com/dns Author: Jake Bible Check out Jake's latest collection of stories, They All Bleed: Ten NoSleep Stories, Volume Two https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0G96H432Y * * * CONTENT DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content not limited to intense themes, strong language, and depictions of violence intended for adults. Parental guidance is strongly advised for children under the age of 18. Listener discretion is advised. #drnosleep #scarystories #horrorstories #doctornosleep #creepypasta #horror Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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Part two.
A long night ahead.
As I escort Jimbo and Keisha back up to the Keepers' Room, I expect to the keepers' room.
I expect the strange voice to come again, but it doesn't.
I'll make tea.
I say it moved to the hot plate.
Make it Earl Gray.
One of the tea hags, snarls.
Or else?
Or else what, you old bag?
The second hack says.
Don't you mean hag?
The third asks.
All of them erupt into cackles.
The cackles devolve into flemy coughing,
which devolves into quiet gasping, followed by silence.
Who is that?
Keisha asks me.
She's wedged herself against the wall opposite the cot, pointing, she asks.
Are they under the bed? Only if you're lucky, a hag says, and her voice sounds like it's right next to Keisha.
The woman screams and runs to the door, ready to escape out onto the walkway.
I grab her arm before she can get outside, and a good thing too.
Footsteps, thunder passed. I don't see the source, but I don't need to know the outcome.
Roxy's body down below is proof enough.
Kisha must hear the footsteps too, because she barely fights me as I keep her from leaving the room.
Or she could just be in shock, probably both.
Tea, I say, and fill the kettle, then put it on the hot plate.
Fetching three mugs from the small shelf above the hot plate, I smile at Kisha and Jimbo.
Do you like milk or sugar in your tea?
They both just stare.
Yeah, I think shock is setting in.
I'd be freaking out just as much if it wasn't for what happened to you.
old McMillan.
Let's start with black, I say, and pull three tea bags from a box on the small shelf.
I plop a bag into each mug and try to smile at my unwanted and unfortunate guests.
We wait in silence until the water has boiled, and I pour the tea.
Then another three minutes of silence as the tea settles.
The quiet is only broken when I give them each their own steaming mug of Earl Grey,
and one of the hags announces,
You're never getting out of here alive.
This causes Keisha to break out into loud sobs again, forcing Jimbo to take the mug out of her hand before she spills it everywhere.
Who are they?
Jimbo asks.
Tea hags.
Sea hags?
No, tea hags, I say and shrug.
Don't ask me why.
I just work here.
My little Joe doesn't get a laugh.
Jimbo blows on his tea and takes a tentative sip.
His eyes focus on me.
You deal with this every night?
He asks as Keisha leans against him, still quietly sobbing.
The voices?
Yeah, pretty much.
And the other stuff?
The footsteps and whatever knocked Roxy off the walkway?
Not the first time I've heard the steps.
It is the first time anything.
Bad has happened.
Bad?
Roxy is dead, Augie.
That's more than bad.
She was my best friend since high school.
Keisha Wales.
I know, I know.
Jimbo says and wraps an arm over her.
her shoulder. It's all so horrible, but we will just sit here, drink Augie's tea, and wait until the
sun comes up. Hopefully, I say, and regretted immediately.
Excuse me? Jimbo asks. What, what does, what does that mean? Kisha sobs. It means that I've
never done this before. And say and hold my hands out. Hosted people in this damn haunted
lighthouse after midnight. It's all just supposed to be legend. Jimbo said.
None of this is supposed to be real.
I've been telling you for months that it's real.
I snap.
Maybe pay attention next time.
I laugh.
And they made you management.
Hey, I earned this promotion.
How?
By being the smartest, dumbass?
Great job, Jimbo.
Don't call me that.
Oh right, sorry, James.
I laugh again.
I'll add that to the rules.
Number 11, don't call Jimbo James.
Can you do that?
Add rules?
Keisha asks, pricking up.
Can you make a rule that will get us out of here?
I was being sarcastic.
Oh, that makes sense.
How?
How does it make sense?
Jimbo snarls.
None of this makes sense.
Yeah, you've made that opinion clear.
I shrug.
How's it helping?
Are we safer because you've pointed out how shit doesn't make sense?
No?
Yeah, didn't think so.
Now, what does make sense is that if you are given some rules to fight,
following a haunted lighthouse, you might want to follow those rules. To me, that makes sense.
Perfect sense. Kisha sips her tea, and it's like listening to someone slurp up a six-foot-long
noodle.
Delicious!
The hissing voice whispers.
Kisha screams and drops her tea mug. It bounces off the floor and rolls under the cot.
Thank you!
A hag cries out.
Quiet woman!
The hiss says. There is no response from under the cot.
Which is worrisome, since the hags never pass up a chance to backtalk.
Who is this new voice?
We can use the landline.
Jimbo pipes up.
There's an actual landline in the main office downstairs.
He stands up quickly, sloshing some tea out of his mug and knocking Keisha to the side.
Hey!
She protests.
Jimbo gives me the mug, which, um, gee, thanks, and then hurries to the door to the spiral staircase.
I think it used to be for a fax machine, but we don't have one of those anymore,
So now it's just to back up a guess.
Great.
So who do you plan on calling?
The police?
Fire Department?
NASA?
What?
No, don't be stupid.
I'll call Mr. Jessup, the head of the Parks Department.
He'll know how to handle this.
How?
With a sledgehammer?
Because there's a brick wall down there, Jim, James.
You know, where the glass doors used to be.
I don't have all the answers.
But maybe he's been through this before.
I raise an eyebrow.
Oh, shit.
Shut up! We can't just sit here all night and do nothing!
He's out the door and down this spiral staircase before I can stop him.
I pause next to Keisha.
Will you be all right by yourself for a bit?
She nods.
Okay, good. A couple of things to remember.
The fog isn't your friend.
And do not, under any circumstances, trust the lights.
They are liars, all of them.
What?
Just stay right here and don't go outside.
Can you do that for me?
She nods again.
Great.
We'll be back shortly.
Then I rush down the stairs after Jimbo.
Hold up!
I yell.
He makes it to the bottom and ducks through the door and back into the gift shop.
But then he slowly backs up, his eyes almost popping out of his head.
What is that?
He asks, pointing into the gift shop.
Nothing.
You aren't seeing anything.
Just forget about it.
I don't know what he sees, but I also don't want to know what he sees.
If you see something, say nothing is an important rule.
According to Old Macmillan, this stuff feeds off attention.
He thinks that if this weren't a tourist attraction advertised by the Parks Department,
most of the horrible things that go on here would just stop.
But it is a tourist attraction.
It is advertised by the Parks Department.
And Old Macmillan is right.
It does feed off attention.
It's horrendous.
It's disgusting.
Jimbo says.
I grab his shoulders and turn him away from whatever the site is.
Stop talking about it, I say.
getting right in his face.
Our noses are almost touching.
Ignore it, and it will go away.
A tentacle slithers out of the gift shop,
slowly slapping about like it's feeling its way around for something.
Ah, Jimbo's leg.
That's what it's feeling around for.
I clamp my hand over Jimbo's mouth with one hand,
then grip his shoulder as hard as possible with the other.
There is nothing to see, nothing at all,
I say, keeping his eyes focused on mine
and not on the slimy tentacle slowly winding up around his left leg.
If there's nothing to see, then nothing is happening.
And if nothing is happening, then you are perfectly safe.
Maybe we should go back upstairs?
It's not like there's anything keeping you down here, right?
With terrified eyes, Jimbo nods.
The tentacle slowly begins to unwind.
Then he frowns.
The landline, he croaks.
You need to call Mr. Jessa.
I want to slap him so hard right now, but I don't.
The tentacle is winding back up his leg.
Damn it!
I keep my attention averted while also trying to keep track of the tentacle.
Slowly, I guide Jimbo away from the door.
The tentacle resists.
Jimbo lets out a strangled cry, and I put my finger to my lips.
We're just going to go back upstairs, as all, I say calmly.
No reason.
We're just done down here.
Right, James?
His head starts to tilt, and I grab his chin, keeping his eyes up.
Right, James?
Just going to go upstairs now that.
that we're done down here.
He focuses on my face, then slowly nods.
The tentacle eases its grip and slips away,
disappearing back into the gift shop.
Move.
I snarl in Jimbo's ear.
Then I give him a little shove in the back,
and we're climbing the spiral staircase once more.
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When we get to the Keeper's Room, Keisha is gone.
Shit!
I snap and head for the walkway.
I look left. I look right.
Damn it. Where is she?
Then I hear humming.
It's a mocking bird coming from above.
Craning my neck, I look up, and my guts clench.
Kisha is up on the widow's walk, her hands outstretched, reaching for something.
I told her the lights were a lie!
I exclaim and shove past Jimbo as I rush back inside,
then hurry up the spiral staircase to the lantern room.
I close my eyes as I burst into the room, knowing the timing of the lantern.
My face grows warm from the light, then it passes, and I open my eyes.
I can't see!
Jimbo shouts from behind me.
I shake my head and ignore him.
I need to get to Keisha.
Out on the widow's walk,
Keisha leans her waist against the railing,
both arms stretching into the open air.
Keisha!
I shout.
Get back!
They're so pretty.
She says in a dreamy voice.
Can I have one?
I want to have one.
They aren't real, Keisha,
I say, taking a step toward her.
Back away from the railing, all right?
Just come hang out over here with me.
We do the spots go away.
Jimbo shouts from the lantern room.
Man, that really hurts.
There should be the rule against staring directly into the lantern.
Moron.
They want me to fly with them.
Keisha says.
Should I?
I should.
I leap at Keisha just as she throws her top half over the railing.
My right hand grabs her by the right ankle,
and I feel the muscles in my shoulder tear.
I cry out, but don't let go.
Hey, what's going on out there? I can't see shit!
Stay where you are, James. Just have a seat, and I'll be with you in a second.
Let go! I want to play with the pretty lights!
Keisha shouts up at me. I grab her leg with my left hand and pull as hard as I can,
ignoring the agony in my right shoulder. Keisha thrashes and fights me,
but she doesn't have much leverage, since she's hanging over the railing of a damn haunted lighthouse.
Then an idea hits me. It's not a good idea, but it's related to.
is something old McMillan told me once.
A quick jolt can bring you out of it, he said.
Stab yourself, bite yourself, punch yourself,
do what you can to bring your mind back to reality.
Kisha had been wearing sandals, which are who knows where now.
So her feet are conveniently bare.
I lean over and lick the sole of her foot.
What?
I hear her mutter.
I lick again.
Ow!
Stop that!
She shouts.
Then she starts screaming as she realizes that her position.
is a little precarious.
Grab the bottom of the railing and shove up if you can.
I shouted her.
What is going on?
Help me.
Help me!
I'm trying.
You guys need some help?
Jimbo asks,
stumbling out of the lantern room.
What did I say?
I roar.
Go back inside and sit your ass down.
But I can help.
No, you can't.
I kick back with my left leg and connect with his right thigh.
He stumbles and falls onto his ass.
Stay down.
I shout.
Then I pull on Keisha's leg as hard as.
I can. I shove my feet against the bottom of the railing and lean back with all of my weight.
Keisha screams. Kisha cries. Kisha starts to move up.
Climb, damn it! I yell at her.
Hurry! I can't hold on forever! Which is too true. My shoulder is pure fire, and not good fire,
bad fire, pain and agony fire. With one last yank, I throw myself backward. Kisha cries out,
and then she's over the railing and landing on top of me. All of the breath is not.
knocked for my lungs, and I lie on the widow's walk, gasping, and wishing I could yell at
Keisha to get the hell off of me, but that takes breath, which I don't have.
Keisha? Jimbo asks, crawling along the widow's walk.
James? She whispers. Then she throws herself into his arms. I'm able to suck in a lung
full of air and focus on that for the next few seconds. Then I push up onto my hands and knees,
crawl into the lantern room, and collapse onto the floor, rolling over onto my back.
The lantern's light passes over me every few seconds.
We should go back down to the keeper's room.
I say after a few minutes.
It's safer down there.
Safer?
Jimbo barks a less than convinced laugh.
There's no safe in this hellhole.
You mean hell pole.
I say and snort.
Hell pole.
That's funny.
Keisha laughs too.
Don't encourage him.
Jimbo snaps.
He did just save my life, James.
She clears her throat.
Thank you, by the way.
No problem.
I reply and sit up.
All right, I don't know what time it is, but that little event had to kill some.
Maybe we only have a couple of hours left.
You have to...
The hiss says...
You.
Oh, God! What is that?
Jimbo cries.
Your salvation.
The hiss replies.
For two of you, that is.
What? Two of us?
Keisha asks.
Don't listen to it.
I say, dread-filling my body.
body. I have heard this voice. I just blocked it out. Come on, we're going back to my room.
Oh, you'll want to listen to me. The hiss counters. You'll want to listen closely.
No, he won't! I shout. I help the still blinded jimbo up and then grab Keisha.
Tea, a mug of tea will make things better, I say. I want to start muttering about ten rules
since that's my go-to, self-soothing activity. But I keep it buttoned up and folks
Focus on getting Jimbo and Keisha down to safety, or relative safety.
Where do you think you can...
The hiss asks as we walk slowly, carefully down the spiral staircase.
In your little keeper's room, it's where you are.
Because I will be right there with you.
Is this one of those not friendly voices?
Keisha asks.
Yes.
I reply immediately, ushering them both into the keeper's room.
Ignore it.
Oh.
So why listen?
Listen.
The hiss juggles, which is a very strange sound.
Out of this mess, for two of you.
Why does it keep saying that?
Jimbo asks.
I walk him to the cot and plop him down.
He lifts his head.
Why just two?
Don't talk to it, I insist.
It has nothing good to say.
Safety.
They would love to be safe and alive when the sun breaks over the horizon.
I want to live, yes.
Keisha shouts.
How?
How do we survive?
Not we.
I mumble.
Only two of us.
What's that, August?
Speak up so the rest can hear you.
The hiss chuckles again.
This should be fun.
No, I'm not playing your game.
I clap my hands.
Who wants tea?
We didn't really get to enjoy it last time.
No tea now, boy.
I had growls.
Listen to the beast.
Another says.
You cannot win, so try not to
lose. The third says.
What is this? Riddle time?
Jimbo asks.
Will someone just be straight with us? Please?
They can't be straight, I say. It's all about deceit with these things.
Things? The hiss, gnashes invisible teeth.
Boy, I was devouring souls before your kind was even able to stand upright. I am no
thing. I want to live. Tell me how to live.
Keisha shouts.
The fog is coming.
The hiss responds.
The fog is already here, I say.
Plenty of it.
Oh, you know of which fog I speak, boy.
The true fog.
The one fog that must be fed.
Keisha and Jimbo both look at me, eyes wide and confused.
I even think Jimbo was able to focus a little now.
Good for him.
The fog is not your friend, Jimbo says.
Precisely, the hiss says.
Very good, James.
Even if the fog gets thicker, we'll be fine in here, I say, not believing my own words.
Oh, August Jones, you know better than that. Did old McMillan teach you nothing?
Don't you say his name? I spit. You don't deserve to say his name.
Touchy, I see. Understandable. Considering what you did do it.
Keisha and Jimbo each frowned at me. I thought old McMillan
Fell, Jimbo says.
He did.
I insist.
Did he?
The hiss asks.
Did he really, August Jones?
Shut up.
Just shut up.
The hiss laughs, and the glass and the panes rattles.
I look toward the night and gasp.
Then I slowly walk to the windows, forgetting all about making Earl Grey T.
The fog is coming in.
Thick.
Real thick.
Too thick.
Yes.
Before Keisha or Jimbo can ask.
I turn to them and try to act calm.
I fail.
Okay, so we're going to die if we don't figure something out.
I say.
Yes, August Jones.
Explain it to them.
Shut up.
I take a deep breath and point out the window.
That fog isn't normal fog.
What is normal here?
Keisha whispers.
Yeah, true.
But that fog is like super not normal.
I look out of the thick vapor rolling its way toward the lighthouse.
That fog is hungry. It asks to eat.
If it isn't fed, well, it gets a little nasty.
It'll roll right on past this lighthouse and straight into town.
After that, well, I shrug.
Okay, so how do we stop it?
Jumbo asks.
What does it eat?
The hiss cackles.
Not Earl Gray!
One of the hags shouts.
Definitely not.
Another adds.
If you were a starving fog, what would you want to eat?
The third asks.
Quiet hags.
The hiss orders.
August, continue, please.
I try a hundred different ways to figure out how to say what I need to say in a less alarming way.
But nothing comes to mind, so I say,
Yeah, the fog requires a sacrifice.
It needs to eat one of us.
Very good, August Jones, very good.
Kiss my ass.
You see, young people, the fog must have a sacrifice when it reaches the lighthouse,
or it will do you.
devour the entire down. Such is the bargain made so many hundreds of years ago. And a bargain made
is a bargain kept or else. Hold on, hold on. Jimbo says and gets to his feet. His legs are wobbly,
but his shoulders are set, and there's a little steel back in his eyes. He jams a finger in my
direction. How do you know about the sacrifice? How do you know any of this? Old McMillan? Yes,
I say, which isn't a lie.
I do know this because of Old Macmillan.
The hiss isn't going to let me off the hook, though.
Be honest with them, Marcus Jones.
The hiss says,
How do you know this is true?
Old Macmillan didn't tell you, did he?
But you just...
Jimbo frowned at me.
Then his eyes go wide.
No, no, you didn't.
Did you?
I didn't have a choice, I say.
Oh, you had a choice.
choice august jones old macbillan gave you a choice didn't he shut up it's a choice all three of you must grapple with i said to shut up save yourself or save your soul right august jones it's not that easy and you know it easy easy of course it's not easy the cackle hiss fills the keeper's room nothing is ever easy you stupid fool but it is simple choose to live or choose to live or choose
choose to die. One saves your life, the other saves your soul. Up to you.
We have to choose. Keisha says quietly.
We have to pick one of us to throw over the side and give to the fog.
Arise, find mine. That's what you did to the old man, right? It was you or him, and you chose yourself.
You threw him to the fog. That's crazy. Augie? Throw old McMillan to the fog?
Chimble laughs. He doesn't have what it takes.
And do you?
Kisha asks Jimbo, her voice cold and hard.
You have what it takes to throw someone over the side?
Do you have what it takes to throw me over?
Huh, James?
If it's down to you and me, who goes over?
Hey, Kisha, calm down.
Jimbo says, trying to laugh it all off.
It won't come down to you and me.
His eyes glance my way.
Not when we have a third wheel right here.
I mean, the sacrifice pretty much chooses itself at this point.
To humans, the hiss says.
Have fun, you three. I can't wait to see what happens.
No, I say to Jimbo. I look around for a weapon, but there is none. It's a tourist attraction, not an armory.
Jimbo, just no. Stay away for me. James? Kisha asks. I don't know if she's arguing or if she's urging.
Either way, I turn tail and run to the spiral staircase, headed up to the lantern room.
Where are you gonna go, Augie?
Jimbo shouts right on my heels.
There's no leaving until dawn, remember?
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