November 12, 2024
Everyone is asleep, and I’m ready to practice my remote viewing and mediumship skills. I was sitting at the dining room table, preparing to conjure up a lost soul. I had the crystal ball in front of me. After a long, stressful day, I just wanted to focus on something familiar, something I could control. But a lost soul had other plans for me.
As I was getting ready to begin, the lights in the kitchen began flickering. I know what this means—time for a nocturnal visitor to arrive. But tonight, something was different.
No one appeared, and the flickering wasn’t random. It was rhythmic, almost like it had a pulse of its own. I stayed at the table, watching as the lights flashed in quick, deliberate bursts, then paused, only to start again. It felt like the house itself was trying to speak, to get my attention.
Then, without warning, a strange, crushing pressure gripped my chest. My heart started to race, beating so hard it felt like it would burst. The pain was sudden, a searing line of fire across my left side. I clutched at my chest, my mind racing. Was this it? Was I having a heart attack?
My breaths came in short, shallow gasps as I tried to steady myself. The room began to darken, my vision blurring at the edges. I could feel the blood rushing in my ears, drowning out every other sound. The pressure in my chest only grew worse, like a vice tightening around my ribs, squeezing the life out of me.
But that’s when I noticed it—my heartbeat wasn’t just racing. It was in perfect sync with the flickering lights in the kitchen. Flash. Thud. Flash. Thud.
The pounding continued, relentless, and as I focused, I began to hear it more clearly. It wasn’t just my heart—it was a drumbeat. The rhythm was deep, raw, almost primal, like someone striking a drum with their bare hands. Each beat seemed to echo through my chest. The rhythm wasn’t just a typical drumbeat—it had a wooden, hollow resonance to it, almost like someone striking a hand drum. The sound was distinct, not something I had heard before.
And then, everything shifted.
I was no longer sitting at my dining room table. I was in the woods. The scent of wet leaves and damp earth filled my nostrils. The humid air stung my lungs with every forced breath. I was running—my legs felt heavy, my breaths shallow and panicked. The drumbeat was relentless, pounding in my chest and ears, driving me forward along a path deeper into the woods.
I couldn’t see where I was going, only that I had to keep moving. The shadows seemed to shift and dance around me. My heart continued to pound in my chest, the rhythm urging me on, faster and faster. I followed the path to a clearing. That’s where I saw them—three shadowy figures. They stood like sentinels, their eyes glowing faintly. The familiar drumbeat grew louder, more frantic.
“You have failed her,” they chanted in unison, their voices echoing.
Suddenly, she appeared—Candle Face, her face a twisted, melted mask illuminated by a backdrop of flames. The heat of her presence was overwhelming, and I could feel it searing into my skin. The drumbeat became deafening.
“You sought perfection in your music yet ignored my demands, Jacob,” Candle Face said. “You were to bring me those who didn’t believe, yet you chose not to obey. Now, you will pay the price.”
The shadows closed in, and everything went black.
And just like that, I was back at my dining room table. The lights had stopped flickering, the drumbeat had faded, leaving only the pain in my chest. My hands were shaking, my heart still pounding as if it were trying to catch up with reality. The vision had ended, but the terror lingered.
Personal Note to My Readers (November 13, 2024)
Last night, something unexpected and deeply unsettling happened. During the vision, Candle Face referred to me as Jacob. At first, I was confused. Clearly, Candle Face knows who I am, so why did she call me Jacob? Was it some kind of psychological trick? For a while, I was convinced that I had become the target, that she was trying to toy with me.
But as I began to reflect on the experience, trying to make sense of what I had just witnessed, pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place. The drumbeat, the shadows, the overwhelming sense of dread—it all felt too familiar.
The story felt familiar, like a story I had heard months ago. That’s when it hit me: this wasn’t the first time I had connected with this lost soul. On March 22, 2024, he came to me, desperate to share his story about shadows pursuing him in the woods. Back then, I only heard his words, but tonight, I lived through his eyes. I witnessed what he experienced on the day he died. For a few terrifying minutes, I became the lost soul from Candle Face Victim # 21: A Drumbeat Away from Darkness.
But here’s what’s truly unsettling—I didn’t consciously use the crystal ball or any of my remote viewing techniques. The moment my heartbeat synced with the flickering lights, it was as if the crystal ball activated on its own. I was pulled into a vision, but I wasn’t in control. It felt like the lost soul was reaching out to me, forcing the connection.
The rhythm of the drumbeat felt like a message, a cry for help that I still can’t fully understand. I can’t help but think that this experience is a warning—both for me and for all of us trying to piece together these fragments of the past. I’ve always relied on my remote viewing techniques with some degree of control, but tonight shattered that sense of safety.
If anyone reading this has experienced something similar, if you’ve felt your abilities start to activate without your intent, I need your help. The lost souls are counting on us to understand what they’re trying to communicate, but I fear I’m opening doors that I won’t be able to close. There’s something hidden in that drumbeat—something urgent that I need to decode. But I can’t do it alone.
Please reach out if you have any insights. The lost souls, perhaps even my sanity, and safety depend on what we discover together.
Key To Understanding
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