Candle Face Victim #8: A Paranormal Investigator's Encounter

December 21, 2023

Main subjects:

• Victim #8

• Candle Face

I’ve realized I can’t handle these Lost Souls on my own, so I’ve been actively searching for paranormal investigators, mediums, and psychics across different online platforms. I have posted on Facebook, Reddit, and even the Darknet, a space I became familiar with during my years investigating missing persons and human trafficking cases. I’m trying to find someone who can make sense of the messages from my nocturnal visitors.

Unfortunately, most of what I find leads to groups focused on minor things like orbs, which are often just dust, and blurry ghost photos that are usually pareidolia. They tend to avoid serious hauntings or real cases, and that has been discouraging. Every dead end leaves me feeling more responsible for these spirits, and I worry that I’m failing them.

I finally got a call from a group of paranormal investigators who were interested in my nightly visitations. During a three-way video call, I explained Candle Face’s background and the visions that have been haunting me. They recommended a full investigation of my old Austin neighborhood and the creek where Candle Face has reportedly been seen. We’re planning to do that sometime in mid to late January. Part of me wants to see what we might learn. Another part of me is scared about what we might find.

That same night, I slept in the living room instead of my usual place in the upstairs guest bedroom. My wife, still recovering from multiple surgeries, was sleeping alone for comfort, and my son, who was home for Christmas, was using the guest room where the Lost Souls usually appear. I left the kitchen light on, which cast a faint shadow in the far corner of the living room, in case another spirit showed up.

As I started drifting off, one of those shadows shifted along the wall until it took the form of a woman in her thirties, around five feet eight.

She walked toward the couch with a kind of calm that was hard to place. “It’s my turn,” she said quietly, as if the moment had been waiting for her. She told me her visit had been prompted by the call I had with the paranormal team earlier that day. She said she had been a paranormal investigator in the mid-2000s and had once investigated Candle Face herself. She begged me not to involve this new team, especially if they planned to treat it lightly. She warned that there was real danger, especially for the male investigator who liked to use humor in his investigations. Before she began, she asked that her family be left in peace and urged others not to dig too deeply into Candle Face’s history.

This is her story:

As a paranormal investigator, I approached legends and ghost stories with skepticism. When I heard about Candle Face, I assumed it was another urban myth. I came to Austin determined to disprove it.

Over several nights, I tried everything: séances, equipment, and visits to places like Ben Howell Drive, the nearby creek, and Lady Bird Lake, where some people claimed Candle Face had drowned her victims. But nothing happened. No strange activity. No flickering lights. Not even a cold breeze. I became convinced the whole story was folklore.

Because of that, I wrote a blog post saying Candle Face was a hoax. I mocked the legend and called it one of Austin’s more imaginative ghost stories, but nothing more than that. I went to bed that night satisfied and ready for the next case.

That same night, the shadows in my hotel room began to move. At first, I thought exhaustion was playing tricks on me. Then she appeared. Candle Face. Her charred figure was worse than anything I had read. She mocked me for not believing and for the fear I couldn’t hide. Her laugh wasn’t human. Then she was gone, leaving me frozen in place and questioning everything.

The next day, I thought about changing my article to reflect what I had seen, but my pride got in the way. I told myself that what was done was done.

Back home in San Antonio, she came to me again, this time in my bedroom. She was furious. She demanded that I rewrite the article, acknowledge her, and spread her story. When I refused, she made a promise of her own. She said she would create a story about me and send it out to her believers.

She began to speak, laying out my fate as if it had already happened:

The Hunter Becomes the Haunted

Behold the tale of the skeptic who dared to doubt me. You sought to expose me, to solve a case you deemed false. But now, the hunter becomes the haunted.

You thought you were brave, seeking out spirits. Yet, when faced with me, your courage crumbled like ash. Watching you paralyzed with fear was amusing, contradicting your bold claims.

I have decided your fate, dear paranormal investigator. Since you refused to correct your story, I shall create my own about you. Your story will be eternally haunting, and my image and laughter will constantly be in your mind.

Each night, as you try to sleep, you will hear my voice and see my charred face. You will long for peace, but it will elude you, just as the truth did.

And when the burden becomes too much, you will reach for pills to still your heart; remember, it was your disbelief that sealed your fate. You will be a warning to all who dare to investigate me.

You wanted to find the truth, and now you live it. You are mine now, dear paranormal investigator. Your story ends with me.

* * *

I lived in constant fear, haunted by Candle Face and tormented by her laughter. I wish I had rewritten that article. I deleted my website and destroyed my equipment, thinking I could escape her, but the suffering followed me. It never stopped.

After a year of living with her haunting me, I reached for a bottle of pills. Even in death, I have found no peace. I’m trapped now with the others who doubted her. Remorse consumes me because I dismissed something that was real.

After she finished, she stepped backward into the corner of my living room. One last time, she begged me to call off the paranormal investigation in January or at least make sure the team approached it with caution, not humor.

Personal Note to My Readers

My encounter with this former paranormal investigator, who somehow knew about my conversation with a ghost-hunting team just hours earlier, has given me a new idea. If spirits really can sense us during the day, then maybe that awareness can be used to help them. It seems what we do in the living world can affect them, and their presence can affect us in return.

I’m now thinking about speaking to these spirits more directly during the day. I plan to mention their stories out loud and try to address their issues whenever I can. Maybe by giving them direct attention and actively looking for answers, I can help give them some relief.

This has changed the way I think about the paranormal. It feels immediate now, almost reactive. If that’s true, then paying attention to these spirits and responding to them may be one of the few ways to help them.