Candle Face Victim #20: Led Into the Woods

March 18, 2024

Main Subjects: Candle Face

• Victim #20

I had grown tired of sleeping on the couch, so I went upstairs to sleep in a real bed. As I climbed the stairs, I noticed the faint outline of a man standing in the bedroom. I wasn’t sure whether he might turn aggressive the way some spirits had before, so I moved carefully and pushed the door open a little farther. He looked almost as uneasy as I felt, and that eased me some. I stepped inside and leaned against the wall without saying anything. He seemed to take my silence as permission, and he started to speak.

I thought Candle Face was just another urban legend, until I learned she was real.

I never walked right after the accident. The limp stayed with me. So did a lot of other things. Part of me never really came back after that crash. Sometimes I would catch myself talking under my breath just to remind myself I was still here.

Most nights, I stayed downtown, hanging around the edges of things. I never felt like I belonged anywhere, but watching people come and go was enough to pass the time. That’s where I met her, my “Lady Friend.” She liked me to call her that. She had a laugh that sounded warm at first, but there was always something off about it.

She was obsessed with the stories people tell about Austin, especially Candle Face. Every time she brought her up, you could see it in her face. She came alive talking about the woods in northwest Austin and the thing people said was waiting out there, something with a face like melted wax and fire in its eyes, going after the people who doubted her.

“You don’t believe, do you?” she’d ask, half teasing, half serious.

I’d laugh and shake my head. “Nope. I believe in what I can see and touch. Stories are just stories.”

She never liked that answer.

One night, she took my arm and led me away from downtown. We caught a cab to the northwest side of town, and from there she walked me into the woods. She barely said a word, but the way she held onto my arm told me this wasn’t some casual walk.

“Why are we here?” I asked.

She turned and smiled. “You’ll see. I’m going to show you something real. Then you’ll believe.”

The trees closed in around us. The trail got tighter the farther we went.

Then we came to a creek. The water was dark and still. She was already there. Candle Face.

She stepped out from the trees. Her face looked twisted, like melted wax. Her eyes burned low like candles. Then she reached for me with a hand that shouldn’t have been solid, but was. I tried to pull away, but I was too late.

“Thank you,” Candle Face said to my Lady Friend. Her voice sounded like dry leaves moving across the ground.

Then my Lady Friend laughed. It was wild and wrong, nothing like the laugh I thought I knew. “You should have believed,” she said.

I tried to get loose, but Candle Face already had me. With my limp, there was no way I was going to outrun her. She dragged me deeper into the trees. The branches pressed in around us until all I could hear was my own fear.

Pain shot through my leg when I stumbled, but what hurt worse was knowing my Lady Friend had handed me over. Candle Face had become real to me. I felt it in my chest. I felt it in my leg. I felt it in every step she forced me to take.

As we went deeper, her eyes dimmed a little, almost like she was satisfied. Then she said, low and steady, “Belief is the beginning and the end. Only when you believe do you truly see.”

And in that last moment, I saw.

The spirit reached out his right hand, then pulled it back and glanced toward the portal as if he knew he had made a mistake. I didn’t press it. I thanked him for his time and told him I would try to help him. He looked surprised. Then he winked and limped back into the shadows of my bedroom.

Personal Note to My Readers

It looks like I’ve started speaking directly to the Lost Souls. This may be the second or third time it has happened. When they tell their stories, I still mostly listen. I don’t press them with questions yet. Once they’re gone, I always wonder why I can’t bring myself to press them in the moment. I hope that changes. I have a long list of questions I want to ask, but right now, I still can’t do it.

This makes me think about the confrontations I had with Candle Face as a child. At first, she got into the house through unlocked doors, so I started locking them. Then she used open windows, so I shut and locked those too. My family made fun of me for it, but I kept doing it anyway. Eventually, I realized I could control parts of the dream. In one encounter, I saw Candle Face outside a window trying to open it. Even though I knew I was dreaming, I rushed to lock that window. As soon as I did, she moved to another one. By staying ahead of her, flying from window to window and locking each one, I kept her from getting in. It came to a head once I figured out how to shape the dream itself. I’m hoping I reach that point with these visits from the Lost Souls. I have too many questions left unasked.

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.