Chapter 3: The First Mystery
999 Words
The Row stretched endlessly before them, tall streetlights glowing one by one as if they knew the group had decided to walk forward. The cobblestones beneath their feet looked wet, though no rain had fallen. It felt like walking inside a dream—the kind where you’re not sure if you’re awake or about to wake up.
“Alright,” Finn said, sticking his hands in his hoodie pockets like this was any normal after-dinner stroll. “Ten out of ten creepy factor. I say we head back before the lamps start singing.”
“The lamps are already whispering,” Mia murmured. Her golden eyes flickered toward the nearest pole, and for a moment, Carla swore the light bent down as if listening.
Theo adjusted his glasses, even though they were already perfectly straight. “It’s not whispering, it’s resonance. Vibrations of gas flow, like an old neon tube.”
“Uh-huh,” Finn said. “Resonance. Right. Because normal lamps definitely whisper names at you.”
Carla frowned. “Names?”
Mia stopped dead in her tracks. “You don’t hear them?”
The others shook their heads.
“They’re saying…” Mia’s voice trailed off. She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her temples. “They’re saying—help.”
They froze. Even Finn, who was usually first to laugh off danger, went quiet.
“Mia…” Carla said carefully, “help who?”
Mia turned to the nearest lamp. Its golden glow brightened, and for the briefest second, a shape flickered inside it—small, hunched, and trembling.
“A child,” Mia whispered. “There’s a child in there.”
Theo blinked. “A metaphorical child?”
“No.” Mia’s voice broke slightly. “An actual child.”
Finn, ever the opportunist, grinned weakly. “Okay, okay, I’ve seen enough ghost movies to know how this works. Rule one: don’t make eye contact. Rule two: don’t say its name. Rule three—”
The lamp pulsed suddenly, and a sharp, childlike cry echoed down the Row. The sound pierced them, high and shrill, like glass cracking.
Finn jumped. “Forget rules, I’m out!”
But Carla grabbed his sleeve before he could bolt. “Wait! We can’t leave. Not if there’s really—” She hesitated, her chest tightening. “Not if there’s really someone in there.”
The key in her pocket warmed as if agreeing.
They edged closer to the lamp. The glow inside flickered, showing the blurred face of a boy. His hands pressed against the glass like it was a window.
“See? I told you!” Mia’s voice shook. “He’s trapped.”
Theo’s mind ticked quickly, already theorizing. “Assuming this Row is some form of dimensional prison, the lamp posts could act as containment vessels for—”
“English, Theo,” Finn muttered. “You mean it’s like… a people battery?”
Theo scowled. “That’s… not inaccurate.”
The child’s lips moved behind the glass, forming words they couldn’t hear. But Mia’s eyes widened.
“He’s saying he’s scared. Something chased him in here.”
“What chased him?” Carla asked.
Before Mia could answer, a shadow spilled across the cobblestones—a twisting, stretched silhouette with no body attached. It slithered up the lamp, wrapping around it like smoke.
“Oh, perfect,” Finn groaned. “Shadow monsters. Love that for us.”
The lamp flickered violently, the child inside pounding on the glass.
Carla stepped forward instinctively. “We have to get him out.”
“How?” Theo asked sharply. “We don’t even know the rules here. If we smash the lamp, maybe we free him—or maybe we burn him alive in raw energy.”
“Nice comforting options,” Finn said.
The shadow hissed, its form swelling, stretching into the vague outline of a beast with too many limbs. Its clawed fingers scraped the glass of the lamp, trying to pry it open.
Mia gasped. “It’s the thing that trapped him. It wants him back.”
The child’s muffled cry grew louder.
Carla’s chest burned where the key pressed against her. Almost without thinking, she pulled it out. It glowed faintly, crescent head shimmering like moonlight.
“Step aside,” she said.
The others looked at her like she’d lost her mind.
“What are you gonna do?” Finn asked. “Unlock the shadow?”
“Maybe,” Carla muttered, stepping closer to the lamp. The shadow recoiled slightly at the sight of the key.
Carla pressed the crescent end against the lamp’s glass. The shadow screamed, recoiling into the cobblestones, dissolving like smoke in the wind.
The lamp flared with brilliant light—and then shattered silently.
Where the shards should have fallen, there was only mist. When it cleared, a boy of about seven stood trembling on the cobblestones. He blinked at them with wide, tearful eyes.
“You… you found me,” he whispered.
Carla dropped to one knee. “You’re safe now.”
The boy gave her a shy, grateful nod—then faded like a reflection, dissolving into faint golden sparks that drifted up into the nearest streetlight, which dimmed as if satisfied.
Silence fell.
Theo exhaled. “We just… liberated a soul.”
“Correction,” Finn said, eyes wide. “Carla just Harry Potter’d a soul out of a freaky lamp with her magical moon key. Totally normal Friday.”
Mia’s golden eyes glowed brighter for a moment. “There are more. Hundreds. Thousands. Every lamp…” She turned in a slow circle, staring at the endless glow stretching into the distance. “…they’re all souls.”
Carla tightened her grip on the key. “Then we’re not leaving until we free them.”
From the shadows, far down the Row, a faint lantern light flickered—green, not gold. Watching. Waiting.
And for the first time, Carla felt sure the Lantern Man was smiling.
- Writer
