March 4, 2024
I think I finally dozed off sometime around 4:00 a.m., after hours on the couch scrolling through Facebook and watching YouTube videos. Suddenly, my house alarm blared, jolting me out of sleep. In the confusion, I caught sight of a man dressed in khakis and a button-down shirt. He began speaking right away, not giving me a second to wake up or gather my thoughts fully.
In Austin, Candle Face isn’t just some campfire story. She’s a warning—a reminder that not everything can be explained away. But me? I didn’t buy into it. I’m a software engineer. Logic, reason, science—that’s what made sense to me. Ghosts? Ghouls? They were just figments of overactive imaginations.
My run-in with Candle Face started like any other night. I was deep into my work, the glow of my screen the only light in my apartment. Everything was normal until it wasn’t. The air got hot. I brushed it off at first, but then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her.
She was standing there—small, charred, and completely unreal. Her face looked like it had been burned away, but her eyes locked on mine. I froze.
“Why do you reject my existence?” she asked, her voice calm. Too calm.
I shook my head, trying to stay rational. “Ghosts aren’t real. You’re just... I don’t know, a trick of the mind.”
She didn’t flinch. “Am I?” she asked. Her voice was steady, but there was something sad about it, like she’d heard it all before. “Is it not arrogant to dismiss what you cannot explain?”
I stood up, hoping that if I moved, this... thing would disappear. “You’re a myth. A story. That’s all you are.”
She stepped closer, and the heat in the room spiked. “Your disbelief offends me. It denies the pain of my existence.”
I turned back to my computer, trying to block her out. “You’re not real,” I muttered, though even I could hear the crack in my voice.
She laughed, this low, soft sound that crawled under my skin. “You will learn,” she said. “In time.”
That night, I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt like someone was watching me. I kept seeing her face in my head, burned and twisted. The shadows in my apartment seemed to move on their own. Even the quiet wasn’t right—it was too still.
The next day, I tried to shake it off, but something had changed. I couldn’t stop looking over my shoulder, couldn’t stop thinking about her. It felt ridiculous—me, letting some creepy vision get to me—but I couldn’t help it.
Things only got worse. Objects started shifting around the apartment. I’d feel these sudden bursts of heat for no reason. And her voice... her voice was everywhere. “Why will you not believe?” she’d ask, over and over, like she was trying to wear me down.
I started staying out as late as I could, wandering the streets of Austin just to avoid going home. But even out there, I couldn’t escape her. She was always just out of sight—close enough that I could feel her, but far enough that I couldn’t prove it.
One night, I’d had enough. I was tired, I was scared, and I wanted answers. “What do you want from me?” I yelled into the empty apartment.
She appeared, stepping out of the shadows like she’d been waiting for me to ask. “Belief,” she said. “Acknowledge my pain.”
I shook my head, still clinging to whatever logic I had left. “I can’t... I can’t believe in something that doesn’t make sense.”
Her expression changed—like she was disappointed, but also angry. “Then you leave me no choice,” she said.
And just like that, everything around me changed. The walls of my apartment faded, and I wasn’t in Austin anymore. I was somewhere else—somewhere extremely hot and empty. She stood there, glowing faintly, her hollow eyes fixed on me.
“Where am I?” I asked, my voice shaking.
She tilted her head. “In the place of the disavowed. A place for those who deny the truth.”
Panic hit me. “Let me go. I’ll believe, I swear!”
Her eyes narrowed. “It’s too late for that,” she said with an evil smirk.
I tried to run, but there was nowhere to go. She moved closer, her burned hands reaching out for me.
“Please!” I begged, the fear finally breaking through. “I believe in you! I do!”
She didn’t stop. Her hand touched my face, and it was like fire seared through me. I screamed, but there was no one to hear.
After that, I was gone. They found my apartment untouched, but no sign of me. The people around here talk about it, though. They say I was taken by Candle Face—punished for not believing.
Without saying a word, he turned around, walked back into the dark corner of my living room, and disappeared. I checked my surveillance footage, but there was no sign of my nocturnal visitor.
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