My name is Danny, and I'm writing this from a hospital bed. I was in a coma since the night of December 23rd, having woken up yesterday.

The first thing I heard was my mum screaming for the nurse, which scared the hell out of me. Then she sternly told me I'd missed Christmas, like she held a grudge. Then she cried. A nurse told me she'd been by my side every day since I was admitted, even Christmas day. Apparently my dad and brothers cooked Christmas dinner. Really wish I could have seen that! Maybe not eaten it though, knowing their kitchen skills.

I'll get to that damned tower soon, but first I'll explain why I'm afraid of heights. I was eight years old, and our family home then was a flat on the second floor of a five-storey block. The building needed some external maintenance, so a construction company came to put up some scaffolding. It surrounded the whole building. For a kid, it was essentially a giant climbing frame.

Temptation got the better of my best friend Reuben and I. The danger-red WARNING signs dotted around the frame only encouraged our determination to scale the building. That, and being at an age where secretly defying our parents was the best kind of naughty. We'd both been told we were not to climb the scaffolding under any circumstances. So naturally, we did.

We avoided areas that had windows, just in case we were spotted. On the parts where it was impossible to go any further without passing a window, we'd crawl on the wooden planks to stay low. When someone walked by the building, we laid completely flat to stay out of sight, covering our mouths to stifle the giggles.

After a few days we felt courageous enough to reach the highest level of the wooden walkways. Don't get me wrong; it was scary being that high. But it was also exciting! We sat on the edge of the planks and dared each other to look down. But then Reuben suggested something that made me feel uncomfortable.

"Wanna hang?" he asked with a smirk. He was standing very close to the edge, leaning over and holding onto one of the parallel rails for support.

I shook my head. "No way, Roo. Don't be stupid!"

"Come on, Danny. Don't be a scaredy-cat…"

He pretended to lose his footing which made my heart pound, but then he grinned.

"Don't do that!" I said, taking a deep breath. "I think it's time to head back down. We might get found out!"

"No one's gonna know we're up here, Danny. We're too high…"

It was as if Reuben tempted fate, because almost as soon as he'd finished talking, there came a booming voice from just below us.

"Get down from there, you darned fools!"

It was cranky old Mr Woods who lived on the top floor, shouting out of his window. His outburst startled us. It was enough to make Reuben slip, for real this time. He ended up clinging onto the rail a few feet away from the edge, nothing but a five- storey drop below him.

“Danny, help me!” he yelled. “Pull me back!”

I froze. It was momentary, but when I actually took the steps to help, one of his hands lost its grip.

“Roo!” I screamed. I had just enough time to see the shocked look on his face as he fell out of sight.

I never saw the impact. I fell to my knees, collapsed onto my back, and stared up at the sky in a daze. Mr Woods was shouting, but I couldn’t tell you a word of what he said. I'm not sure how long I was there, but I heard screams, and then sirens.

It was my dad who came to get me. I have a vague memory of him passing me down from the highest planks to the ones below, Mr Woods’ arms reaching up to grab me.

I didn’t talk for a few days after that.

The thing about fear of heights (acrophobia) is that even the thought of being at a great height can be triggering. Images too. For example, that scene in one of the Mission: Impossible films where Tom Cruise scales the Burj Khalifa; I had to stare into my popcorn and ask a friend to let me know when it was over. I felt a wave of vertigo and panic threatening to take over my body.

I can avoid most things that cause these reactions. If I have to visit big cities, I’ve trained myself to keep my eyes low. I can use escalators if I keep my head down. Lifts are generally fine as long as I know the doors won’t open to large windows. Glass lifts on the other hand; absolutely not. I can visit friends who live in apartments above ground floor, I just avoid windows. I can even fly if I have to. Give me an aisle seat and a xanax, I’ll get through it.

The experience changed my life significantly. Not only with my aversion to heights, but the guilt I carry. I was just a kid, but rarely a week goes by without me feeling somewhat responsible for Reuben's death.

This leads me to the night of December 23rd. It was my family’s annual pre-Christmas get together at a restaurant out of town. It’s about an hour's drive from me; on a good day! We had snow in my part of the UK, so that added a little extra time to my journey. I absolutely hate driving in those conditions, but I'll do it if I have to.

One thing about that journey is the road passes a tall transmitting tower. It's hard to avoid looking at it for parts of the journey as it's directly on the horizon, though I try my best to pay it no mind. It's an imposing structure that never fails to accelerate my heart rate.

It seems the tower is always shrouded in a light mist. It makes its appearance all the more ominous. I don't think I've ever clearly seen the top of it. With the snowfall we had that day, I barely saw the tower at all on my drive up. But the red lights that line it could be seen through the flurry, and that was enough to send a shiver down my spine.

It was already dark when I said my goodbyes to my family and started my journey back home. I was grateful that the snow wasn't as heavy by that point, but still drove with caution. My radio was off as I didn't want any distractions. There were a string of headlights behind me for a lot of the journey. I imagined the drivers swearing about my reserved speed.

Turning a corner, the tower lights became visible. My heart skipped an inevitable beat as I shifted my gaze to the road ahead, but those lights were a constant glare in my peripheral vision.

Then, I heard a voice.

"Danny."

It was breathless; just above a whisper, but clear.

I slammed my foot on the brakes, skidding on the road for several metres before my car came to a stop. The car behind me managed to swerve, avoiding a collision. The driver held down the horn as they passed, and several other cars followed.

My hands were shaking. It took me a few minutes before I felt composed enough to move the car, which was at an angle. My foot trembled on the accelerator, but I managed to reach a lay-by where I parked up. I stepped outside, the cold night air biting at my skin and throat as I breathed in.

I sat on the hood as I tried to make sense of what I heard. It was probably just the wind and I imagined the rest, something like that. I looked into the sky. The light snow falling onto my face was incredibly sobering. I managed a laugh.

"You fucking idiot," I chuckled to myself as I stepped away from the car. I took the opportunity to relieve myself behind a bush, grateful I hadn't pissed my Levi's. I continued to chuckle as that old saying don't eat yellow snow came to mind. Then just as I was making my way back to the car, the voice came again.

"Danny."

There was no denying it this time. My feet gave way and I fell backwards. It was like my name travelled on the wind. I barely had time to acknowledge the fear that gripped me before realising exactly where I was.

Looming over me were a row of vertical red lights, disappearing into the snowy night sky. My hands began to clench, snow compacting within my fists. My heart stopped as a siren blared somewhere high above. It was like the sirens you hear in movies set during the blitz. There was no doubt it was coming from the top of the tower.

It was calling me.

I stood up and blinked away snowflakes from my eyelashes. Despite the cold, I felt perspiration all over my body. That familiar feeling of dread was heavy in my stomach. And yet, I found myself walking back to my car for my woollen beanie and gloves. I left my phone in the glove box and locked the doors, putting the keys in the inside pocket of my parka jacket.

My winter boots crunched in the snow as I walked towards the tower. There was no time to appreciate the beauty of the untouched white fields and dusty trees. My heart was racing, stuttered exhales of breath visible for seconds before dispersing.

The siren continued to blare until I reached a small building in the vicinity of the tower, where it abruptly stopped. The whole area was bathed in a red glow. As I approached the tower, a ladder within the frame became visible. My hands gripped a rung, which felt ice cold even through my gloves.

I took a few deep breaths and slowly looked up. The red lights appeared to have no end. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing.

"Help me, Danny."

My eyes shot open as the words echoed from above. It sounded just like…

The closest light, maybe 20 feet away, began to glow with ferocity. I had to look away, momentarily blinded as if looking directly at the sun. I could hear the intense buzz of electricity, and squinted as I turned my head to look up.

"DANNY!"

The voice screamed my name as the light exploded, showering sparks over me. My arms covered my face as I cowered in the snow. When I eventually turned back, one by one the remaining lights on the tower began to glow a little brighter, as if inviting me to follow them. I stood up, grasping the ladder again.

"Lord, give me strength," I said out loud in an attempt at self motivation, having never believed in a higher power. I took a sharp intake of breath, held it for a few seconds, then began to ascend the ladder.

To begin with, it was one rung at a time at a snail's pace. I'd take a step upwards; left foot first, then meet it with my right. Pause, then repeat. I had no concept of time, and can only go by how long it felt. All I can tell you is after what felt like at least 5 minutes, I was barely 10 feet from the ground from my very quick glance down.

Thankfully, the position of the ladder meant that no snow had built up on the rungs. Though I was conscious of ice. The thermometer in the car put it at -3°C, and some of the rungs had a shimmering surface.

As I passed the destroyed light, I was managing to step up to the next rung immediately without meeting the other. I counted roughly five seconds between each rung. By the time the first working light became close enough to touch, I was climbing a little faster. There was slight heat radiating from it, so I stopped to enjoy the subtle warmth it provided.

I hooked my right arm around a bar and slowly looked down. The ground was barely visible now the lowest light source was gone, but visible enough to gauge how high I was. My head spun and my legs threatened to buckle, my left foot slipping on the rung in the process.

My scream reverberated within the tower's structure. For a brief moment, both of my feet left the ladder. My right arm, still hooked over the rung, took my body weight and stopped me from falling. There was a dull pain in my shoulder that was almost forgotten about instantly as I regained my footing. My breathing was as dramatic as you can imagine.

"Don't look down, don't look down," I said over and over like a mantra, closing my eyes and willing my head to clear. Once I could focus again, I winced. It felt like I'd pulled a muscle.

Some 30 or so minutes later, I passed five lights. They were situated no more than 2 ft away from the left side of the ladder. I estimated there was around 20 ft between each one, which meant I was likely more than 100 ft from the ground by that point. Daring to only take quick glances down, I could no longer see the ground. If it hadn't been snowing it would have been different. I could only see the illumination of the lower lights. If I looked to the side, I could see the distant headlights of cars on the road.

I stopped counting the lights. I'd built up a little more confidence and was ascending quicker. I noticed the air was getting colder too, and appreciated the brief moments of warmth the lights provided.

Around an hour into the climb, the siren blasted again. It was louder than before, confirming I was closer to the source. It made me jump, but I didn't slip. I paused and clung on to the ladder to compose myself. The closest light to me began to pulse.

"What now?" I said, having let my guard down. I looked up at the snowflakes, which were shades of pink and red. All of the lights appeared to be pulsing. I silently prayed that none of them would explode again. Not only because of the injuries they could potentially cause me, but if those lights went out I would be in complete darkness.

"Danny!" came that voice again, loud enough for me to hear it over the siren. It sounded distressed. "It's coming!"

I looked up, frantically searching for something that couldn't be seen.

"Who are you?" I screamed into the sky. "What's coming?"

"Don't look back. Hurry!"

The siren stopped again. All I could hear for a short while was the breeze. It was eerily quiet. Then I could hear a faint, metallic sound below me. I felt goosebumps over my body as I tried not to look. I didn't want to look. But I had to.

I could see the shape of something on the ladder below me. The snow didn't help but there was very clearly something there. And it was ascending.

I turned back and started to climb faster, my feet slipping in my frenzy. I let out a yell before finding my footing. My gloves were holding me back; the fibres didn't grip the bars like bare hands would. I used my teeth to prise them away from my fingers, letting them fall.

Whatever was below me was getting closer. I tried not to look, but I involuntarily took quick glances over my shoulder. I could make out long, skeletal arms reaching for the bars. It was breathing heavily and grunting as it climbed.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" became my new mantra. My hands felt the startling cold of the icy bars, but gripped more securely. I noticed the pain in my shoulder more now that I was climbing with determination.

It grabbed my left foot and made a hissing sound. Screaming, I turned to see claws around my boot. They started to pierce through the material. I pulled upwards with all I had and felt it slip away from my foot.

The sudden difference in weight caused whatever it was to fall. I felt a moment of relief, but it grabbed on to one of the bars, forcing its body to slam into the tower. It sent a tremor through the frame, my knuckles white as I gripped the bars. A shriek pierced my ears as it continued to climb, its claws tapping on the rungs.

"Leave me alone!" I screamed over my shoulder, my heart feeling like it would stop at any moment. As I began to ascend again, I noticed only one of the lights above me was flashing now. It was the second closest to me.

By the time I was level with the light, it was too bright to look at directly. I could hear the same intense buzz coming from within it, like the electronics were working overtime. It gave me an idea.

The thing on the ladder was screeching behind me, the vibrations through the tower's frame getting stronger. Despite that, I paused by the light, hooking both arms around the bars. My body trembled as I closed my eyes.

"Please, please work," I said under my breath, my face scrunched up while I waited for the inevitable. There came a shriek directly below me which made me scream, then I felt tight pressure around my left leg. The thing pulled down hard.

Hoping my arms would support me, I took my right foot away from the ladder and kicked downwards. It met some part of the thing's body, which made it shriek again. There was a sudden sharp pain in my right leg. I stared through the bars into the dark interior of the structure, grimacing as my arms struggled to hold on.

As I regained my footing, it grabbed the hood of my jacket. My left arm was pulled from the rung as I screamed out; not only from shock, but the pain in my right arm was excruciating.

My upper body was forced to twist around, and I saw it was some kind of… creature. Arms impossibly thin, clenched serrated teeth. Its head was about twice the size of mine with rough, textured skin. Its dark eyes reflected the red glow. It screamed in my face, breath putrid and warm. I matched its scream as my arm began to slip.

The heat radiating from the light became more intense. I could see the structure around me glowing brighter by the second, and the buzz became high pitched.

"Look away!" commanded the voice.

Then the light exploded.

The creature screamed as the blast threw it from the tower, taking a clawful of my hood with it. Its long arms flailed as it fell out of sight, covered by the falling snow. My body was forced to the right side of the tower as sharp fragments made contact with the left side of my face. The tower shuddered, the metal frame screeching like it was struggling to hold. I swung my body back, grimacing at the pain in my shoulder. I grabbed at one of the bars and shut my eyes tight, once again praying to no one in particular.

After several minutes the vibrations stopped, and all I could hear was ringing in my ears. I took a few deep, visible breaths and began to climb the remainder of the tower. My whole body shivered as the temperature dropped considerably. The palms of my hands were sore, and my bootless left foot trembled on the rungs despite wearing thermal socks. There was an uncomfortable wet sensation around the top of my right boot, which I realised was blood. I had a quick look and saw several slashes on the right leg of my jeans.

I eventually came to a platform which concluded my climb. It was wide enough for me to lay down, giving me a chance to rest. It felt like I'd been climbing for hours. There was a strong, ice-cold breeze. I could feel the tower swaying slightly as laid still.

There was a pole elevating another 20 or so feet from the top of the tower. At the top of the pole was another red light, and what looked like a large megaphone. The siren.

The gravity of the situation slowly became apparent. My goal had been to reach the top of the tower. Something had called me, and I felt obliged to do it. But for what? Panic started to set in.

"What do I do now?" I asked out loud, sitting up and leaning against the safety rail. I took a closer look at my leg. There were three vertical cuts down the back of my calf. It didn't appear to be bleeding too much; I assumed the cold had helped with that. But just looking at it made it feel more painful.

There came a scream from below. It sounded like that fucking creature again. I quickly laid back down and hugged my body as I shivered. More screams seemed to echo within the structure. I slowly peeked over the edge of the platform, my hands gripping the sides. I could only see a few feet down, the majority of the tower shrouded in snow.

"Danny," came the voice, close this time. I turned back, and couldn’t believe my eyes. There was a small boy, arms and legs wrapped around the pole.

It was Reuben.

"Help me!"

I shook my head, my lips trembling.

"No… No no no," was all I could manage.

The siren blasted. There was a metallic screech as the bottom of the pole began to buckle, and tilted at an angle. Reuben screamed as it collapsed, falling like a cut-down tree. The platform shuddered as the pole hit the rail, the siren coming free and falling out of earshot. Reuben's legs slipped from the force, his arms barely making it around the pole.

“Danny, help me!" he yelled. “Pull me back!”

I was taken back to my childhood. 8 years old, watching helplessly as my friend tried to hang on for his life. The majority of the pole was now horizontal over the edge of the tower. Reuben clung to it near the end, just before the light. I was frozen in place.

"You're not Roo," I said, my voice wavering. "I don't know what you are, but you're not Roo. I watched you fall. Your parents mourned you. I mourned you. It haunted me for life!"

The light revealed his fearful expression. His eyes burned into me.

"It's me, Danny," he pleaded. "You're my best friend."

My heart broke. His little face was filled with terror. I had no idea what, or how it was. But I couldn’t just sit there and watch like a coward. So I began to crawl closer.

As I reached the pole, I placed a trembling hand on it. I felt it bend a little, but it otherwise felt secure.

"Just… Just hold on," I said, sliding my body on top of the pole like I was riding a broomstick. I used my arms to slowly pull myself closer to Reuben. I looked down for all of a few seconds, my brain reminding me that I was several hundreds of feet above the ground. I paused briefly to clear the nausea, then focused entirely on Reuben.

Out of nowhere, the creature leapt in front of me, the pole bending down further. I screamed as I felt my body shift forward, having to tighten my grip. It wrapped a claw around one of Reuben's arms, then dangled him over the edge.

"What the fuck are you?" I screamed out. It turned to me with soulless eyes as Reuben cried for help. Its rough skin barely covered its bones. Its thin arms must have been at least 4 ft long. It exhibited a strength far greater than it appeared to possess, holding Reuben at arm's length with no visible struggle.

"Don't let it drop me, Danny. Please!"

"I don't know how!" I cried. The pole was slowly bending at a terrifying angle, the metal threatening to snap at any moment. I slipped forward, barely feet away from the creature. It bared its teeth, appearing to smile.

It let go of Reuben. I had enough time to see his face turn to shock as he began to fall.

"Roo!" I screamed, letting go of the pole and reaching out with both arms. My heart jolted as my legs spun. I would have fallen regardless, but the pole snapped completely. By the sound the creature made, it was taken off guard.

The cold stung my face as the tower lights flew by, and the wind howled in my ears. The creature was nowhere to be seen, but I saw Reuben through the snow. I reached him, and cried as I pulled him against my chest. He felt so warm.

As I started to lose consciousness, I remember thinking there was something quite poetic about going out that way, like it was always meant to be.

The next thing I knew, I woke up in this bed.

I was found the next morning by the engineers who work at the transmitting tower, unconscious in the snow. There were questions, which I haven't been able to fully answer yet. My mum said there might be criminal damage charges brought against me, due to the condition of the tower. She's fighting my corner on that though, claiming it as preposterous due to my fear of heights. Though when I'm ready, she needs an explanation of how I ended up there with the injuries I sustained. I don’t know what I’m going to tell her. My dead childhood best friend lured me there sounds a little crazy.

I'm being kept in hospital for a few more days, but at least I have my phone to keep me occupied. It was retrieved from my car, which is currently parked outside my parent's house. I’ve been asking myself, Did you really climb that tower? I Googled it. It’s actually called a guyed steel lattice mast. Wikipedia says that particular one is 1002 ft tall.

There’s no way I could fall that far and live to tell the tale. I didn’t break a single bone. I have wounds on the back of my right leg, which the doctor said looks like it was caused by a large wild animal. My right shoulder is sprained. I have small cuts on the left side of my face. My hands have signs of mild frostbite. That’s it.

I could have happily told myself that the whole thing was a vision, or whatever you want to call it. But what about my injuries? What about the damage to the tower? What about the condition of my left boot, which was found torn a few metres away from the tower? Or the shredded hood of my jacket?

Given time, I could probably come up with logical answers to those things. But I have no answer for this last thing.

A nurse handed me a card earlier today that had been left on the counter of reception. It just had Danny written on the envelope. As I’m the only Danny currently in the hospital, let alone on this ward, it was assumed to be for me. When I opened it, my stomach dropped.

The front of the card depicted an illustration of the tower against a dark blue sky. Snow was falling, and two small boys looked happy building a snowman. To the left of the tower were what appeared to be the skull and bones of a large creature.

Upon closer inspection, there was something odd about the snowman's arms. They weren't the traditional sticks usually used, and they were too long in proportion to the rest of its body.

I held my breath as I opened the card. The message inside was simple, in the crude handwriting of a child:

Thank you

R