Welcome to “Shadows of the Keeper,” an interactive story where YOU help determine what happens next. Each week, a new chapter will be released with a choice at the end. Readers can vote in the comments section to decide which path our hero will take. The story follows Ali Blacksmith, an eighteen-year-old lighthouse keeper on a mysterious New England island, where ancient secrets and modern mysteries collide. Your choices will help Ali uncover the truth about her family’s legacy and the lighthouse’s hidden purpose.
Dawn painted the island in watercolor hues of pink and gold. Ali Blacksmith spun through the wildflower field, her dark curls flying wild in the morning breeze. Tall grass swished against her jeans as she twirled, arms outstretched like a dancer. Behind her, the lighthouse stood sentinel against the pale sky, its beacon finally at rest after another night of vigil.
“Come on, Muffin!” she called, and the golden retriever bounded through the dewdrops, sending sparkles into the air with each leap. This was their morning ritual – a dance with the sunrise before Ali’s daily lighthouse check. The island was still sleeping, except for the rabbits that watched from their hutch near her house’s wraparound porch.
The lighthouse beam might be automated now, but Ali took pride in being its keeper, just like the Blacksmiths before her. Even with Dad working off-island these days, someone had to—
Muffin stopped mid-bound. The dog’s ears pricked forward, nose pointed toward the treeline where ancient oaks marked the edge of the wildflower meadow. Ali followed her gaze, the smile fading from her face.
Something moved between the trees. Not the usual dance of branches in the wind, but a shadow that seemed too solid, too purposeful. It slid from one trunk to another, then vanished. Muffin let out a low growl.
In eighteen years of island life, she knew every resident by name, every corner of this place, every shadow, every sound. The last ferry had docked at 5 PM yesterday – she’d watched it from the lighthouse gallery as usual. No unscheduled boats had come in the night; the automated warning system would have alerted her. But that shadow… that was something new.
“Hey!” she called out, her voice carrying across the quiet field. No response came from the treeline. Just the morning birds and the distant whisper of waves. Muffin took a step toward the trees, then looked back at Ali, waiting.
The morning chill suddenly felt sharper against her skin. She should head to the lighthouse – it was almost time for the daily check anyway. But as she turned toward the familiar tower, movement flickered in her peripheral vision. This time, she was sure she saw a figure, tall and dark, disappearing behind an oak tree.
The lighthouse had always been more than just a job to the Blacksmiths. Her great-great-grandfather had been the first keeper, back when the light still burned with oil and needed constant tending. The stories had been passed down through generations – tales of storms weathered, ships guided safely home, and mysteries that seemed to cling to the tower like morning mist.
Her father’s voice echoed in her memory: “A keeper’s duty isn’t just to the light, Ali. It’s to all the secrets it protects.” She’d always thought that was just another of Dad’s dramatic sayings, like when he claimed Cooper’s old tractor had a personality or that Ms. Greco’s pizza recipe was blessed by actual Italian angels. But now, watching that shadow play at the edge of her world, those words carried a different weight.
The lighthouse beckoned, its windows reflecting the sunrise like flames. Inside, she knew exactly what she’d find: the logbook waiting for her morning entry, the familiar hum of backup generators, the spiral staircase leading to the gallery deck. Normal, routine, safe.
But that shadow…
She pulled her phone from her pocket, thumb hovering over her messages. Cooper would already be up, probably tinkering with the ancient tractor in his garage before heading to the mechanic shop. Jasper too – he usually read on his porch at dawn, squeezing in some chapters before his online classes.
The morning breeze carried a sound – like laughter, but not quite. It drifted from the treeline, mixing with the rustling leaves until Ali couldn’t tell if she’d really heard it at all.
Muffin whined, looking between Ali and the trees, tail low but not tucked. Whatever – or whoever – was out there, it hadn’t spooked her loyal companion enough to run. That had to mean something, right?
The responsible thing would be to check the lighthouse first. Document any disturbances, just like Dad had taught her. But that shadow was moving away, and with it might go answers to questions Ali hadn’t even thought to ask.
She looked down at Muffin, then at her phone, then at the waiting lighthouse.
Time to choose.
Should Ali: A) Follow the shadow into the treeline with Muffin. If it’s a trespasser, she needs to know now. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen with a protective dog by her side? Comment TREE
B) Head to the lighthouse first. Check for any signs of disturbance, maybe call Cooper and Jasper for backup. The shadow can wait – the keeper’s duty comes first. Comment LIGHTHOUSE
Wherever you saw the post about this story, comment with the path that you would like this story to take.
“Shadows of the Keeper” is written by Julie D’Aloiso in collaboration with Anthropic’s Claude AI. Each chapter is crafted through creative partnership, combining human storytelling with AI assistance.
© 2025 Julie D’Aloiso All rights reserved.
