## **The Shroud of Seguin Island**
Maine’s highest sentinel, Seguin Light, stands vigil from a lone island at the entrance of the Kennebec River. This solitary beacon, a veritable ghost itself, serves as a chilling stage for local tales that send icy shards of terror into listeners’ hearts, blurring the lines separating the living and the dead.
In the year of 1850, there existed a pair of fresh souls, a lighthouse keeper and his young wife. Their names have faded into the obscurity of time, but their tragic tale remains vivid against the backdrop of the roiling sea and in the hushed whispers of the locals.
As winter descended over the rocky outpost, an unexpected storm marooned the couple alone on the island, cutting their fragile lifeline to civilization. In an attempt to ease his wife’s loneliness, the lighthouse keeper summoned an unexpected luxury from the mainland: a grand piano. 
## **The Descant of Desolation**
The piano, a grand creature of polished mahogany and glistening keys, weather-beaten from the journey, had the monumental task of filling the hollow silence that blanketed Seguin Island. The young wife, her fingers dancing over the keys, cultivated a singular, haunting tune — an aural manifestation of her melancholy that echoed between the startling white face of the lighthouse and the sullen depths of the Atlantic.
Under the cloak of ceaseless night, the piano’s lone tune reverberated throughout the island, as if muttering the young woman’s loneliness into every hollow space. It murmured through the wind, whispered against the crashing sea, and hummed incessantly into the ears of the lighthouse keeper. 
## **The Resonance of Rage**
Such constant repetition proved to be the lighthouse keeper’s undoğing. The solemn tune, a companion at first, soon clawed at the tendrils of his sanity. Each day, the notes broadened the rift between the man and his inner peace, embedding themselves into a corner of his mind that gradually magnified the song into an incessant torment.
With desperation morphing into madness, and love warping into loathing, the lighthouse keeper found himself lashing out at the root of his tribulation – the instrument of his despair. The piano, once a symbol of salvation from solitude, turned victim to the man’s burgeoning insanity. The keeper, a man rendered brutal under the weight of his torment, commanded his axe onto the piano, rending the instrument silent. 
## **The Crescendo of Catastrophe**
In the throes of a chilling madness, fuelled by a warped conviction that silence would bring salvation, the man’s gaze turned to his wife – the maestro of his despair. In his eyes, she had become the living embodiment of the accursed melody that had pestered his peace and prowled on his sanity. His rage, once deafening in its roar, now moved with an eerie silence, a predator stalking its prey.
The scene that unfolded was as horrific as the storm that had trapped them. As the keeper’s rage culminated in a tragic finale, the lamp atop the Seguin Light watched mutely, its beam slicing the shifting fog, a silent accomplice to the brutal course of events.
When the storm of insanity subsided, the lighthouse found itself in possession of an eerie silence, one that loomed over the island with a weight far more horrifying than any haunting melody.
## **The Shadows of Seguin Light**
Today, on nights when the wind is just right, boaters navigating the swirling waters off Seguin Island report a spectral tune that hovers in the air, as if emerging from the depths of the island itself. The mournful melody is said to be an echo of the tragic past, a bleak reminder of the couple’s horrific fate.
Some say it is the ghost of the lighthouse keeper, doomed to eternal repentance; others swear it’s the wife’s lingering spirit, endlessly performing her lovelorn symphony. Regardless, the ghostly tune serves as a cautionary tale against the isolating power of despair, echoing an eerie lullaby of Seguin Island’s forlorn history.