December 27, 2023
I’ve been spending my nights in the living room again, leaving the kitchen light on. The glow it casts creates just enough of a silhouette in the far corner for any nocturnal visitors to step forward. As I fought off sleep tonight, I saw the shadows begin to move, a clear sign that someone—or something—had arrived.
Out of the portal stepped a young woman who looked like she could still be in high school. This time, I tried something different: instead of watching in silence, I sat up and waved her over, inviting her to sit beside me. She glanced back at the dark corner, looking unsure. Then she stayed where she was, launching right into her account. Her words came out tense and fast, and I worried her raised voice might wake everyone in the house—or even the neighborhood.
This is her story:
High school graduation was just around the corner, and my friends and I decided to have one last slumber party. It was at my best friend’s house—a creaky old place filled with dust and faded memories. We stayed up late, talking about crushes, dreams, and our uncertain futures. Then, the conversation shifted. My best friend brought up the ghost everyone in South Austin seemed to know about.
“Do you believe in Candle Face?” she asked softly, her voice cutting through the lighthearted chatter.
I laughed, breaking the tension with a firm, “Of course not.”
The other girls gasped. Their faces turned serious as they warned me, “You have to believe. Disbelievers become her prey.”
I shrugged it off, completely certain in my disbelief. “I just don’t believe,” I said, as if it were the final word on the matter.
My best friend leaned forward, her expression calm. “Let’s summon her,” she suggested. “Let her see the truth, and maybe she’ll spare you.”
That night, my friends gathered around a flickering candle. They chanted strange words, their voices low and rhythmic. I stood off to the side, watching them with amusement and disbelief. The whole thing felt ridiculous, like a poorly rehearsed play.
When nothing happened, I laughed again. “Where’s your Candle Face now?” I taunted, the sound ringing out louder than I intended.
Days later, I vanished. The search parties—led by those same friends—called my name into the air, but they would never find me. My body lay submerged, eyes fixed on the murky depths. And with my dying breaths, Candle Face revealed the truth.
Her face flickered like flames. “Your friends sacrificed you to me,” she said. “They betrayed you to secure their own futures.”
The betrayal burned more than the pain of dying. “Grant them my last wish,” I said, “I want them to have a life of guilt and suffering.”
Candle Face tilted her head, a cruel smile playing across her molten lips. “I like the way you think,” she replied.
And so, my wish became their curse. Over the years, I watched as their vibrant faces withered under the weight of guilt. Their lives, once filled with promise, became a constant struggle against the chains of their betrayal.
Desperate to break free, they gathered again in that same house, summoning my spirit to beg for forgiveness. But I stayed silent. Instead, Candle Face appeared.
“You betrayed your friend,” she told them, her voice sharp. “And for that, you are bound to her curse. You will suffer until death finally takes you.”
My best friend pleaded, “We believe in you. Please, let us go.”
Candle Face’s anger flared. “Yes, you believe. But your betrayal was not for me—it was for yourselves. You sacrificed your friend to save your own lives. For that, there is no mercy.”
And so, they remain trapped in their torment, their cries unanswered, their suffering eternal.
Personal Note to My Readers
During her visit, the spirit showed almost no trace of fear. She was driven by a fierce determination to share her account, radiating anger and resentment toward the friends who betrayed her. Candle Face seemed to admire her final wish, embracing the curse she placed on those who wronged her.
I get the sense this spirit feels more at home in Candle Face’s lair than she ever did in life. Her bond with Candle Face appears strong, as though their shared sense of betrayal has connected them in ways I don’t yet fully understand.
Key To Understanding
Purchase Candle Face Chronicles: The Lost Souls [Book One]
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