Candle Face Chronicles: The Master Shadow Cometh

December 2, 2024

Main Subjects: Candle Face

• The Master Shadow

Tonight, I tried something I’ve done before, and it worked. Sitting before the crystal ball, I focused harder than ever, pushing myself to connect with a Lost Soul. I wanted to slip into their world, to see what they saw at the moment they were killed by Candle Face or her followers. Maybe I could find better clues about who they were and who killed them.

The kitchen lights flickered, faintly at first and then violently, snapping me out of my trance. I turned, and there she was, a young woman in her mid-twenties, with an oddly warm presence despite her ghostly form. Her face wore a sad but gentle expression, and her voice was soft as she greeted me with a simple, “Hello.”

Honestly, I’d hoped to avoid a nocturnal visitor tonight, just me and the crystal ball. But she stood there in my dining room like she owned the place.

As she began to speak, the crystal ball between us changed. The soft light inside turned dark and began to churn. Intense heat settled over me, and she stopped speaking mid-sentence, her eyes darting toward the ball. Her form flickered, unstable, as she turned to me, then to the ceiling.

“Hide!” she screamed, her voice breaking. Her ghostly outline shimmered, and for a moment, the room felt like it was about to collapse under her panic.

It happened quickly. A shadow poured from the crystal ball, expanding and solidifying into a humanoid form with the same evil presence I’d only felt when Candle Face visited me. Its edges flickered like smoke. It spoke in a low, throaty voice, each word vibrating through my chest.

“I am the shadow of Candle Face,” it said, its form towering over me. “For months, something has been amiss here. Energy out of place. I’ve come to see why.”

I sat frozen, unable to speak. The Lost Soul who had been with me moments before was gone, vanished as if she had never been there.

The shadow’s massive hand clamped around my neck and lifted me off the ground. Its touch was scorching, hot enough to fuse its hand to my neck. My feet dangled uselessly as I gasped for air, my vision darkening at the edges.

It carried me through the house, its presence sucking the cool early December air from the rooms. It searched every corner, even stopping in my bedroom, where my wife slept peacefully, oblivious to the nightmare I was going through.

When we reached the upstairs bedroom, the shadow paused, tilting its head, listening, sniffing the air. My heart thundered in my chest, each beat begging it to move on. After a long moment, it did.

Back downstairs, it threw me to the ground with a force that left me gasping.

“You think you’re clever,” it said, stepping closer. Its eyes, or what passed for them, flicked down to the crystal ball. “But shadows see everything.”

Its gaze stayed on the crystal ball, a faint red glow swirling in the glass. The crystal ball itself felt alive.

I blurted out, “Who are you?”

Then, almost like it was playing with me, it leaned closer and whispered a riddle:

I was freed to kill but bound again.
My name is yelled, though I bring silence.
Look where the broom sweeps, and you’ll find my mark.

The shadow began to dissipate, retreating into the crystal ball. Before it disappeared completely, it turned to me one last time.

“I’ll be back,” it said. “And next time, I won’t just be looking.”

The room was silent again. I sat there, staring at the crystal ball. Freed to kill, bound again. The broom. The mark.

I didn’t need to solve it to know one thing. Something terrible was already in motion.

The investigation continues in the three most recent entries below. Each adds to the record on Candle Face (Isabel), the Lost Souls, and the Fugitives. You’ll find every entry to date in The Journal.