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  • Writer's pictureArthur Mills

Candle Face Victim #6: From Disbelief to Darkness – The Businessman’s Fate

Candle Face Victim #6: From Disbelief to Darkness – The Businessman’s Fate

Candle Face Victim # 6

December 13, 2023

My wife and I were settling in for another episode of Breaking Bad, but I felt the urge to turn in early, anticipating the possibility of another nighttime visitation. As if summoned by my thoughts, a figure emerged from the shadows, striding towards my bed in a crisp business suit. His expensive dress shoes tapped loudly with each step.

He approached without any preamble and, exuding an air of urgency, immediately began to speak:

Surrounded by urban life, I navigated the sea of people from all walks of life. The streets, lined with towering skyscrapers and flashing signs, buzzed with the energy of a metropolis in constant motion. Beggars, busy cafes, and the distant sound of live music filled the air with vibrant and intense energy.
In stark contrast, my life was a monotonous cycle of deals, profits, and endless deadlines. In the corporate world, my name was synonymous with ruthless efficiency. Boardrooms and business meetings were my battlegrounds, where I wielded my sharp acumen like a weapon. Yet, beneath this polished veneer of success, I often pondered the cost of my achievements. Was sacrificing personal joy and relationships worth the hollow accolades and fleeting triumphs? These thoughts, however, were never voiced aloud, buried deep under layers of ambition and drive.
As I weaved through the crowd, lost in my reflections, a figure caught my attention—a ragged, weather-beaten man standing at the corner of Congress Avenue and Sixth Street. He held out a tattered flyer with trembling hands, his eyes full of earnest desperation. They met mine, piercing through my façade of indifference.
“Excuse me, sir,” he said, his voice a mixture of hope and resignation, “Please, take a moment to read this. It’s about our savior, Candle Face. She has saved countless lives. You could be next.”
I barely glanced at the flyer, my mind dismissing it as quickly as my hand did. The paper felt rough and worn, like the man’s weathered face. I let out a mocking laugh, pushing past him. The flyer fluttered to the ground, forgotten. “Save my life? I don’t have time for delusions,” I scoffed, striding away, my mind already returning to the familiar thoughts of stock prices and market strategies.
That evening, back in my upscale apartment, in contrast to the bustling streets, the encounter replayed in my mind. The luxurious space felt cold and impersonal, reflecting my isolated existence. Something about the man’s eyes and his plea’s earnestness left me unsettled. I tried to focus on my work, but his words echoed in the depths of my consciousness.
Sleep was elusive that night. My mind raced with financial forecasts and client meetings, yet a barely audible whisper grew steadily, weaving through my thoughts. I tried to dismiss it as stress, the consequence of a life lived in the fast lane. But then, a flickering light interrupted the darkness of my room.
There, in the dim glow, stood Candle Face. Her appearance was both mesmerizing and terrifying. She seemed made of shadows and light, her form flickering like a candle flame. Her eyes were pools of infinite darkness, drawing me in with an inexplicable force.
“Do you still disbelieve, businessman?” she asked, her voice a melody of shadows. It resonated with a haunting beauty yet carried an undercurrent of something darker, more gloomy.
I found myself paralyzed, my voice barely a whisper. “This... this can’t be real. You’re an illusion,” I stammered, my confidence shattered by the surreal encounter.
Her coldhearted, ghostly laugh gave me goosebumps. “I am as real as the emptiness you felt when you dismissed my disciple yesterday. Your skepticism, your disbelief, has summoned me to you.”
She reached out, her hand wraithlike and scorching. Doubt and dread filled me. My world of logic and profit crumbled, revealing the fragility of my beliefs. I had spent my life chasing material success, oblivious to the spiritual void within me.
As her fingers touched my forehead, memories and emotions engulfed me. I saw my life through a prism of relentless ambition, realizing the loneliness and isolation I had fostered. Moments of potential happiness and connection had been sacrificed for success. The faces of loved ones, long forgotten, flashed before my eyes, their expressions filled with sorrow and disappointment.
In a final, desperate plea, I cried for mercy, for a chance to believe. But it was too late. Candle Face claimed my soul, drawing me into her world, a world beyond the physical, where the consequences of one’s actions were laid bare.
The following day, my absence went largely unnoticed. The city continued its relentless pace, indifferent to one less businessman. My apartment remained pristine, a hollow testament to a life spent chasing material success, devoid of genuine human connection.
And somewhere, in the bustling streets of Austin, a ragged man held out a flyer to another passerby, his eyes searching for a flicker of belief in a world too busy to notice. In his gaze, he lingered a silent plea, a hope that, perhaps this time, someone would listen before it was too late.

After the businessman gave me his testimony, he stepped backward, back into the shadows in the corner of my bedroom, his shoes tapping just like before.

Before disappearing completely, he had more to say:

Take a moment to step back from the relentless pace of work and truly listen to those around you; their insights and stories can enrich your life in ways success alone can't. Don’t wait until it’s too late to realize that life’s true value lies in connections, not just accomplishments.

Personal Note to My Readers

Reflecting on the businessman’s testimony, I’m reminded of a crucial lesson: the importance of listening to the living and the unheard voices around us. In the hustle of life, we often overlook the stories and pleas of others, much like the ignored flyer. Whether a friend’s advice, a stranger’s plea, or a loved one’s silent struggle, these neglected voices hold wisdom and insights we miss in our rush.

This man’s testimony isn’t solely a plea for our assistance but also his endeavor to aid us. He calls us to slow down and open our ears and hearts to the world. Let’s not wait for a supernatural encounter to realize the power of listening. Let’s start now, in our daily interactions, embracing the lessons and wisdom offered by those around us.


Key To Understanding

To ensure readers grasp the full context and significance of this article, it’s crucial to be familiar with Arthur Mills’ award-winning memoir The Empty Lot Next Door, inspired by actual ghostly events in Austin, TX. The book provides essential background information, and without it, the nuances and depth of this article might not be fully appreciated. Therefore, reading The Empty Lot Next Door is highly recommended for a more enriched and coherent understanding of this article’s content and implications.

To purchase The Empty Lot Next Door, please visit Amazon



Antique typewriter, a portal to the chilling narratives within Candle Face Chronicles: The Journal. Immerse yourself in user accounts, victim stories, and paranormal clues. Join the investigation, unravel mysteries, and contribute to the collective knowledge in this gripping journey into the supernatural.

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