I threw the rag over my shoulder and picked up the empty oil drum. Out to sea a thunder head of deep purple climbed up over the horizon. The storm front stirred up white caps on the mottled grey water.

The wind whistled through tiny gaps between the stone blocks of the tower and followed me down the staircase. Above the archway at the bottom was the etching of the sea monster, a faded fever dream of some long forgotten lighthouse keeper.

“Weather coming,” I said.

“One after the other. The old timers used to say the sea monsters bring consecutive storms.”

We had a dinner of bread and salted beef and cheese. Outside the storm raged, ferocious and unrelenting. We ate in silence, our voices drowned by the wailing of the weather.

I used the last sliver of bread as a mop for the crumbs on my plate. Across the table Thomas half stood.

“You hear that?”

“No.”

“Listen.”

Rain pelted the stone blocks. Thunder rumbled. The wind shrieked. And then I heard it. A knocking of timber on timber.

“The tool box.”

Thomas pushed away his chair and made for the door.

“Leave it. We can’t go out in this.”

“I can’t be docked another pay for damage to company equipment.”

Thomas pushed the door with his shoulder. The door swung out and the wind pinned it against the wall in the open position.

“At least take your jacket,” I yelled, but Thomas was already gone.

I shoved the crust in my mouth and took my oilskin off the rack.

The lighthouse is perched a stone’s throw from the cliff edge. On the west side a timber chest is secured in a crevice. The chest holds the ropes and pulleys for the cart and rail snaking down to the water, our means of resupply. The wind had worked loose the clasp and sprawled the contents of the chest across the ground.

Thomas scrambled on the black rocks made slick by the rain. He had one rope coiled around his arm and was snatching at another. He stumbled and recovered before falling again. He slipped down towards the edge but threw out a hand and caught the rail.

I stepped as fast as I dared towards him. The sea rose in giant waves kicked up by the tempest. An enormous wave, rounded at the top, climbed and threatened to swallow the rail and the box and Thomas.

When the water receded a bulbous shape remained. The head of a giant squid. It blinked at us with uncannily human eyes. In one motion it flicked out a tentacle and ripped Thomas from the rail and swallowed him whole.

I backed away and the creature sunk out of sight below the cliff edge. I had to get back to the lighthouse, the sole refuge on the island. I turned to run but didn’t get far. The tentacle closed around my ankle and the creature pulled.