the forest of candles (and the man with a lighter)

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Here we are in another passage. Hopefully your font is still the one you picked! Let's go to [[one more passage]] for good measure.

Well, this is the last passage. The only place to go now is back to the [[test]].

I remember the first time I heard the story of the forest of candles. (click:"forest of candles.")[ I was about nine or ten, I think. It all gets a little fuzzy that far back. I grew up in this little town in the middle of nowhere, in the forest - the kind with one school, one gas station, and maybe a little dive bar. We had problems with forest fires every year like clockwork. Every year we'd pile boxes of family photos, important documents, everything by the door in case we had to evacuate. We'd keep the cars full of gas and packed with food and keep a plan typed out and taped on the door. Fire has always been one of my biggest fears, even before I heard the story.](click:"even before I heard the story.")[ It was the day that the fire started. I was at school, out on the playground, looking out at the woods that surrounded the town. The school was up on a hill, so you could just see trees for miles. I always really liked that, but my teachers were concerned I was "spending too much time with the forest."](click:"too much time with the forest.")[ ==> [[⁕ I was looking out at the trees when I saw the first one catch fire.]]]

It went up so fast, and white smoke filled the sky above it. The fire easily skipped from one tree to the next like a disease. (click:"like a disease.")[ As it spread, I heard other kids start to scream, panic, tell teachers, but I couldn't look away. I watched as someone emerged from the flames into one of the campsite clearings, running for his life. And just as soon as he'd appeared, he was swept away by... Something. I spent years convincing myself he just fell, or ran back into the trees, but I knew then and I know now that he was taken by someone.](click:"taken by someone.")[ No one believed me, of course. The teachers corralled all the kids into the library to wait for our parents to pick us up. My mom worked in the next town over and was late (like she always was) so I was left alone with the school librarian, Miss Graham.](click:"alone with the school librarian")[ She told me the story while we waited for my mom to arrive. I remember sitting by the window, watching the sky turn orange and ash start to fall. Miss Graham looked up from her book, saw me sitting there with wide eyes, and sighed. "You doing okay, Maggie?"](click:"You doing okay, Maggie?")[ ==> [[⁕ "Yeah, I'm fine," I lied.]] [[⁕ "It's a little scary," I admitted.]]]

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied. I tried to prove it by pulling myself away from the window and looking at the books instead. Miss Graham didn't buy it. "Oh sweetie," she sighed. "It's going to be fine. I've lived in this town a long time, and fires get close, but the firefighters get to 'em before it can get to us." (click:"before it can get to us.")[ I nodded, but I didn't believe her. I'd lived through one or two major fires by then, but I'd never seen one start. I'd never seen the sky turn such a sickly color. I looked back out the window.](click:"back out the window.")[ Then she started talking about some old fire, I think. "Still," she said with this far away look in her eye, "this isn't nearly as bad as the 1989 fire. It started just a stone's throw from the little store on the main road. But even that one didn't burn down any of the buildings in town... I think they decided that one was arson, though."](click:"that one was arson, though.")[ ==> [[⁕ "Arson?" I asked.]]]

"It's a little scary," I admitted. I pulled myself away from the window and started walking along the big shelf of books that ran across the wall. "Oh sweetie," she sighed. "It's going to be fine. I've lived in this town a long time, and fires get close, but the firefighters get to 'em before it can get to us." (click:"before it can get to us.")[ I nodded, but I didn't believe her. I'd lived through one or two major fires by then, but I'd never seen one start. I'd never seen the sky turn such a sickly color. I looked back out the window.](click:"back out the window.")[ Then she started talking about some old fire, I think. "Still," she said with this far away look in her eye, "this isn't nearly as bad as the 1989 fire. It started just a stone's throw from the little store on the main road. But even that one didn't burn down any of the buildings in town... I think they decided that one was arson, though."](click:"that one was arson, though.")[ ==> [[⁕ "Arson?" I asked.]]]

Miss Graham nodded slowly as she thought. I don't think she expected me to ask that. "You know, sometimes it's sparks from a car accident or something like that, but someone went out and started the fire on purpose." (click:"started the fire on purpose.")[ "Why would someone do that?" I asked.](click:"Why would someone do that?")[ She pursed her lips and took a moment to answer. I don't think she expected me to ask that. "Sometimes it's for money." She said, "Or sometimes people have to hide something, so they burn it and it gets out of control. It's never a good reason. But I think, most of the time, it's for revenge. Like being angry at someone for something." I didn't know what to say to that. I think I was too young to wrap my head around why someone would light a fire out of anger. ](click:"light a fire out of anger.")[ ==> [[⁕ I get it now.]]]

When I didn't say anything, Miss Graham kept going. "When I was about your age, all the adults told this... Folktale about arson. I guess some people still tell it, but-" I practically jumped out of my seat. "I wanna hear it!"(click:"I wanna hear it!")[ Ms. Graham laughed, putting her hands up in defense. "Whoa, whoa. I dunno, it might be too scary for you, Maggie." "No way," I said with a huff. "I read all of the Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark books and they never scared me!" The first part was the truth, but the second part was definitely a lie.](click:"definitely a lie.")[ "Okay, okay... I'll tell it to you. But don't say I didn't warn you, alright?" Then she settled into her chair like someone getting ready for a long trip, closed her eyes,] (click:"closed her eyes")[ ==> [[⁕ and started telling the story of the forest of candles.]]]

"There once was a Candlemaker. (click:"a Candlemaker.")[ Making candles was his whole life, his craft. He learned from his father, who knew it before him, and so on. He would make little candles here and there for the lanterns and the dinner tables and give them to the people who lived in town. He was happy, doing that. It brought him a lot of joy to be useful. He had big ambitions, though. It wasn't just his craft - it was his art. As he worked, he learned to make bigger candles, more grandiose candles, ones with carvings in them and different color wax to paint pictures. He became less of a local craftsman and more of an artist as he got older.](click:"as he got older.")[ Eventually, his dreams and his art outgrew the little town he lived in. He moved into this little cabin in a clearing, out in those very woods outside your playground, you know. And he spent many years alone. But being alone wasn't all bad. He had a lot of time to learn more about what he loved! He started making candles so tall they didn't fit in his cabin, candles as big as trees even, reaching from the earth like redwoods. And he didn't have the heart to burn them, you see. Each one was an individual work of art to him, so he started to leave them outside."](click:"outside.")[ ==> [[⁕⁕⁕->cont1]]]

Eventually, he made so many candles that it began to look like a colorful wax forest right outside his door. They became more and more intricate still. He'd spent many years out there by then, and was an old man. But he didn't regret his life alone, since he'd become a master at his craft and his purpose. He was so good at his work, he could do things he never thought possible. (click:"never thought possible.")[ Then, one day, a man was running through the forest in the dead of night. This man was looking for a good place to start a fire. Everyone you ask will give you a different reason - some claim it was an accident, some say he wanted to burn down the little nearby town, and some even say he was a rival of the Candlemaker. But regardless, he was out in the trees, holding a matchbook.](click:"a matchbook.")[ The Arsonist caught his breath and took a single match out, striking it against the case. It caught quickly, and he dropped it. His plan was working well. No one would see him start the fire, and he could return to town under the cover of night.](click:"cover of night.")[ The fire spread so quickly, it caught him off guard. The grass was ablaze and then it was the bark of the trees, the falling fall foliage, the bare branches... It spread from tree to tree with the push of the wind. He started to run, but got all turned around. He didn't know where he was going. All of a sudden, he was surrounded by a smothering heat.](click:"a smothering heat.")[ ==> [[⁕⁕⁕->cont2]]]

His heart was racing when he stumbled upon the cabin in the woods surrounded by candles. It was so mesmerizing, he stopped in his tracks. (click:"stopped in his tracks.")[ In the quiet night air, the Candlemaker heard the commotion. He didn't know it was fire, I don't think, but you know that feeling in your chest when you know something's wrong? That's how he felt. And when he emerged from his cabin, he saw the flames roaring tall above the forest, blending into the night sky.](click:"the night sky.")[ All at once, he knew what would happen, and he knew there was no stopping it. He fell to his knees in anguish as one of the tallest candles came crashing to the ground. Everything was burning so fast in the dry heat, the workshop was surrounded with flames before he knew it.](click:"before he knew it.")[ But he saw The Arsonist, frozen in place in front of the burning trees, with a matchbook in his hand.](click:"a matchbook in his hand")[ ==> [[⁕⁕⁕->cont3]]]

And the Candlemaker knew what he had done. He didn't need to ask any questions. He was so angry that he could feel the race of his heart in his ears over the fire. (click:"over the fire.")[ The Arsonist had nowhere to turn, and tried to lie to the Candlemaker. He dropped the matchbook and tried to claim it wasn't his fault as the Candlemaker slowly approached. "It wasn't me," he cried as he tried to look for a way out of the flames. He could feel the rage radiating off of the older man.](click:"the rage radiating")[ But when the Candlemaker finally got to him, all he did was reach out his hand and touch the Arsonist's shoulder.](click:"the Arsonist's shoulder.")[ The Arsonist stared in confusion. He wanted to run but he felt firmly grounded in place. He started to lose all feeling in his shoulder, and the feeling crept down his arm. Do you know what was happening, Maggie?"](click: "Maggie?")[ ==> [[⁕ "What?" I asked breathlessly, on the edge of my seat.]]]

"What?" I asked. "His shoulder began to turn to wax. The Arsonist watched in horror as wax spilled slowly down his arm, turning flesh to candle. His hand went limp and soon his fingers were encased as well. Then, it traveled across his chest to his other arm. He lost his balance and fell to the ground, screaming, begging the Candlemaker to stop.(click:"begging the Candlemaker to stop.")[ But it was too late. The Candlemaker said nothing as the wax traveled down his body, encasing his thrashing body where it was. Eventually, all that was left of flesh was his head and his neck. No one could hear his screams over the raging fire, and his arm was already starting to melt. Despite being wax, he could //feel// it.](click:"he could feel it.")[ Then his face glazed over. His eyes rolled back into his head and he was frozen, forever screaming like a victim of Medusa - that is, until the fire came close enough to melt him into only a puddle, just like the rest of the Candlemaker's beloved forest of candles.](click:"beloved forest of candles.")[ Legend has it that the Candlemaker survived the fire... And to this day, as his revenge, he takes arsonists the moment they light a fire and they're never seen again.](click:"never seen again.")[ The Candlemaker has a new forest now - one made entirely of his victims. And they say that if he catches you playing with fire, you'll become part of his collection."](click:"part of his collection.")[ ==> [[⁕⁕⁕->(cont4)]]]

I heard the story a million different times while I was growing up. Sometimes the Candlemaker killed arsonists first with a knife, sometimes he had claws and rotting skin like a Universal monster, sometimes he was the devil. But the point was always clear - if you set a fire, he’d take you away. When my mom finally came to pick me up, I didn't tell her Ms. Graham told me that story. I just spent the entire drive home looking out the window at the fire, thinking about the man I'd seen emerge from the forest just to disappear a moment later. It haunted me. (click:"It haunted me.")[ And fuck, it scared the shit out of me. I spent years terrified that I'd accidentally cause a forest fire, and I'd have to watch as I was turned into wax. My parents assured me over and over that it was just an old story invented by some concerned parent to keep their kids away from fire, but I didn't believe it. It sounded too real.](click:"sounded too real.")[ I'd research the origins of the story and nothing would come up. I'd ask friends from other towns if they'd ever heard of it and they'd have no idea what I was talking about. I spent most of my my time in that town feeling like I was losing my mind, being so scared of some stupid fairy tale.](click:"some stupid fairy tale.")[ ==> [[⁕ I didn’t really escape it until I went to a different state for college. At last I could breathe.]]]

Even after I finished college, I avoided going home as much as I could. I hated the memories of smoke covering the sky, evacuating and wondering if my home would still be there in the morning, if something somewhere was waiting to steal me away… My parents eventually moved away, so I was able to go years without going home.(click:"years without going home.")[ But then my boyfriend, Dalton, moved back there a few months before everything happened. I think he had a good reason for it, but I can't remember it anymore. I don't think it matters - our relationship was rocky and just got worse from there. We'd been dating since high school and it was just... Unraveling. But this isn't all about him.](click:"But this isn't all about him.")[ ==> [[⁕ This story really starts when I was heading to my hometown for a funeral.]]]

My childhood friend, Amy, had died. She was my best friend all through school. We didn’t really keep in touch after I moved away for college (a big point of contention), but it was really tough when Dalton told me they were holding a funeral for her. I didn’t even know she died until he told me about the plans for a service. (click:"plans for a service.")[ My flight was canceled three times before I could finally secure a seat, so I ended up missing the funeral. I decided I should still fly home anyway, even just to see Amy's mom and Dalton. I called him from the airport to let him know. He sounded surprised when he answered. "Hello?"](click:"Hello?")[ ==> [[⁕ "Hey! I finally got a flight out."]]]

"Hey! I finally got a flight out," I said, shuffling my boarding pass and wallet away into my backpack. "With the flight and the long drive, I'll probably be in town around seven, unless you wanna pick me up. I was thinking we could get dinner and-" When he interrupted me, he sounded irritated. "I mean, are you sure you should still come out?"(click:"should still come out?")[ I took a deep breath before answering. It was something I'd found myself doing a lot while I was talking to him. "Of course I should," I said. "I mean, I know you got to go to the funeral but I should say hi to Amy's mom anyway."](click:"Amy's mom anyway.")[ "I actually didn't go," he admitted. ==> [[⁕ "What? Why not?"]]]

Amy's house was the next street over from my childhood home. We'd walk to school together, come home together, and spend hours together after school since her mom was always home. God, I forgot how close we were until I went home. I don't think her death really hit me until I was driving through the forest. (click:"her death really hit me until I was driving through the forest.")[ Mrs. Prescott was always really nice to me, regardless of how close I was with Amy. I got a Christmas card from her every year. I don't know, I just always really liked her. I felt bad for missing the funeral. I knew she must've really been hurting.](click:"really been hurting.")[ I knocked on the door and hoped she'd be home. I heard someone come down the stairs and lean on the door, then Mrs. Prescott's voice. "Miss Magnolia Gray!" She cried, swinging the door open wide and pulling me into a hug. I wasn't the biggest fan of hugs, but I always made an exception for her. She looked older than I remembered. Her black hair was peppered with gray and she seemed shorter. She held me tight to her body for a long time, humming and swaying side to side. "Oh, it's so good to see you dear. It's been so long."](click:"It's been so long.")[ ==> [[⁕ "It's good to see you too."]] [[⁕ "I'm so sorry about what happened."]]]

"It's good to see you too," I said with a big smile. I forgot, for a moment, why I was there in the first place. But when I remembered, I pulled back to look her in the eyes. "I'm sorry about Amy." I wasn't sure what else to say. (click:"what else to say.")[ She let out a big sigh. "It's alright," she said, pulling away from the hug. "It's not your fault." Mrs. Prescott looked me up and down and mustered a smile. She seemed a little out of it, not in a deeply sad way, more in a... Dissociative way. I think she was still in shock. "I'm glad you made it!"](click:"you made it!")[ I sheepishly shrugged. "I'm sorry I missed the funeral. Getting a flight out was nuts, and I-" "Oh no," she waved her hand dismissively. "No hard feelings, Magnolia. It wasn't much, very small. We didn't have her body, so it was just..."](click:"didn't have her body, so it was just...")[ No body? That was news to me. Of course, Dalton claimed not to know much when he told me about the funeral, so I didn't know much at all. ==> [[⁕ "What happened to her body?" I asked.]]]

"I'm so sorry about what happened." She let out a big sigh. "It's alright," she said, pulling away from the hug. "It's not your fault." Mrs. Prescott looked me up and down and mustered a smile. She seemed a little out of it, not in a deeply sad way, more in a... Dissociative way. I think she was still in shock. "I'm glad you made it! How are you?"(click:"glad you made it!")[ I sheepishly shrugged. "I'm doing okay, Mrs. Prescott. Work's been good, at least. But there was so much craziness with the airline that I couldn't get a flight in for the funeral, I'm sorry." "Oh no," she waved her hand dismissively. "No hard feelings, Magnolia. It wasn't much, very small. We tried to keep it to family and locals, and most people couldn't make it. We didn't have her body, so it was just..."](click:"didn't have her body, so it was just...")[ No body? That was news to me. Of course, Dalton claimed not to know much when he told me about the funeral, so I didn't know much at all. ==> [[⁕ "What happened to her body?" I asked.]]]

"What happened to her body?" I asked. "Oh, honey... Here, come inside." Mrs. Prescott gently put her hand on my back and led me into the living room.(click:"into the living room.")[ Nothing in the house had changed from my memory - there was still that beige carpet, the red couch, the big wall of family portraits... That was comforting, at least. Some things never change.](click:"Some things never change.")[ I sat down on the couch and she sat in the armchair on the other side of the coffee table. Immediately, she took a handkerchief out of her pocket and dabbed her eyes with it. I felt bad for dredging this all up again for her. "Oh, you don't have to tell me if-" "No no, you should know," she insisted, sniffling. "We don't know what happened to her body, Magnolia. We spent weeks looking for her after the fire."](click:"after the fire.")[ ==> [[⁕ My heart sank. "What fire?"]]]

"What fire?" Mrs. Prescott looked baffled. "The Sunset fire, sweetie. Didn't you hear about it?" (click:"The Sunset fire,")[ When she said the name, I remembered it instantly. Dalton told me about it since he was under an evacuation warning. It was on the campsite side of the hill by the forest - it was small compared to other fires that season, but I remembered what officials had determined to be the cause of the fire.](click:"cause of the fire.")[ Arson.](click:"Arson.")[ I sat there in silence long enough for Mrs. Prescott to continue her story. "Amy had just gotten into grad school. It was just supposed to be this small party with some of the other kids her age in town, and something went wrong... The fire department won't tell me any real details, since it's still under investigation." I had so many questions, I just blurted out the first one that came to mind.](click:"the first one that came to mind.")[ ==> [[⁕ "Did everyone else at the party make it home?"]] [[⁕ "Do you think Amy might've caused the fire?"]]]

"Did everyone else at the party make it home?" I asked. I figured if other people didn't make it home, it might've just been a freak accident, and not the Candlemaker. She thought for a moment. "I believe so, dear. It was Amy, Danielle, Maria, and a few other people, I think. And that young man who's name I can never remember. All of them said they didn't see the fire start, so I guess we'll just never know." Mrs. Prescott looked out the window with a longing look. "I could've sworn I heard her come home that night. My husband thinks I was dreaming, but I thought I heard the front door..."(click:"I thought I heard the front door...")[ A few tears fell from her face before she could wipe her eyes. "Sorry, sweetie. You don't need to hear all of that. Um... Did she tell you she was starting grad school soon?" She said with a small smile. I shook my head. Watching her cry was going to make me cry. I hated thinking about how much of Amy's life I'd missed, and I was overwhelmed with the thought that everything I was scared of my entire childhood was real.](click:"was real.")[ "Would you do me a favor while you're here, sweetie?" Mrs. Prescott asked softly, setting her hand on mine. "Huh?" I came back to reality. "Oh, of course." She smiled and I could see the crow's feet by her eyes. I didn't remember those. "Amy had bought all these textbooks for school, and I was going to send them back since we need the money. They're all up in her room, and I haven't been up there since-"](click:"been up there since-")[ ==> [[⁕ "I can get them."]]]

"Do you think Amy might've caused-" Mrs. Prescott stopped me before I finished my question. "I'm not sure. I know she was a wild child when you knew her, but she'd gotten so much better in the last few years, you know? She'd grown so much... She was going to go back to school and she was so excited to move to a big, bustling city." (click:"bustling city.")[ I was fighting back tears thinking about how much of Amy's life I'd missed, and I was fighting back thoughts of the Candlemaker. It was just a stupid childhood obsession, just a fairy tale, just a fairy tale, //just a fairy tale-//](click:"just a fairy tale, just a fairy tale, just a fairy tale-")[ "Would you do me a favor while you're here, sweetie?" Mrs. Prescott asked softly, setting her hand on mine. "Huh?" I came back to reality. "Oh, of course." She smiled and I could see the crow's feet by her eyes. I didn't remember those. "Amy had bought all these textbooks for school, and I was going to send them back since we need the money. They're all up in her room, and I haven't been up there since-"](click:"I haven't been up there since-")[ ==> [[⁕ "I can get them."]]]

"I can get them," I said, standing up from the couch. "Thank you dear," Mrs. Prescott said, taking her mug from her tea into the kitchen. When I was about halfway up the stairs, she asked, "oh shoot, I meant to ask, how are you doing after your breakup?"(click:"after your breakup?")[ //My breakup?// I stopped where I stood. She must've gotten me confused for someone else, I thought. "I didn't have a breakup, Mrs. Prescott. Dalton and I have been dating for like... Six years, I think."](click:"Six years, I think.")[ "Oh!" She sounded surprised. "I thought Amy- I must've gotten confused. Or maybe she saw something strange on facebook or something." She went back to washing the dishes and humming some Frank Sinatra tune, letting me go up to Amy's room.](click:"Amy's room.")[ //What the fuck was that about?// I wondered as I opened Amy's door and closed it behind me. ==> [[⁕⁕⁕->cont5]]]

When I was alone again, the gravity of the situation set in. Arson. Missing body. Fuck. I saw the stack of business textbooks on her desk, but I didn't grab them immediately. I started looking around the room and realized how //different// it was. The last time I was in Amy's room, we were high schoolers. The walls were pink and plastered with movie posters and little doodles we'd make in sharpie and cover up with pinned up photos. Now the walls were painted beige, and completely blank save for a big corkboard of tracking her grad school applications. (click:"her grad school applications.")[ I'm not very proud of it, but I started snooping. I don't know if I was looking for something to reassure me there was nothing strange about her death, or if I was looking for something to confirm I wasn't crazy for thinking my best friend had been snatched by our town's equivalent of the bogeyman.](click:"bogeyman.")[ I started my search... ==> [[⁕ At Amy's desk.]] [[⁕ With Amy's diary.]]]

It was of me and her, on our high school graduation night. She was holding me like a bride crossing a threshold for the first time and we had the biggest smiles on our faces. The picture itself made me happy, but I couldn't figure out if the fact that she still //had// a picture of us, or the fact that it was deliberately turned away was weirder. (click:"deliberately turned away was weirder.")[ I opened up the desk drawers and poked around a bit. Maybe everything's normal, I thought. I'm probably overreacting. ==> [[⁕ I didn't find anything suspicious around her desk besides the weird picture, so I went for her diaries.->⁕ With Amy's diary.]]]

When we were kids, Amy kept all of her diaries in this little novelty Star Wars box under the bed. I knew it'd still be there. (click:"I knew it'd still be there.")[ I picked the one off the top and tried to flip through it without reading too much just to figure out which was the most recent - and I found the last diary entry she'd written. It was mostly about her school preparations, but at the bottom...](click:"but at the bottom...")[ "P.S. We're having this little party at the campsites tonight, before I have to go back to real life. I'm so excited to be with D for a while <3" D? //Dalton?//](click:"Dalton?")[ I laughed out loud to myself. No way, I thought. Dalton couldn't be dragged away from his desk for a party even on the best of days. I closed the diary and set it gently back in the box.](click:"back in the box.")[ I was about to accept that everything was normal. I was overreacting. It was a freak accident. If I could just accept that nothing strange was going on, I could let myself... Finally mourn.](click:"Finally mourn.")[ ==> [[⁕ When I stood up from the floor, I noticed one of the knobs on her bedpost was missing.]]]

"What? Why not?" I asked incredulously. I told him that it was important to me that he went, since I couldn't be there. Dalton already sounded aggravated. "It just seemed weird without you. I don't even know the family well," he said. "And I think Mrs. Prescott is really busy anyway. I don't know if she'll have a lot of free time to chat." (click:"a lot of free time to chat.")[ I didn't mean to snap back, but I did. "Since when are you the one keeping her schedule, Dalton?"](click:"her schedule, Dalton?")[ There was a long silence after that. I didn't want to break it, but I knew he wouldn't. "Do you not want to see me or something?" I finally asked.](click:"I finally asked.")[ He let out a long sigh. "I didn't say that, Maggie." He used to like calling me by my full name, but recently he stopped. "I just... I know coming home is hard for you, and I thought maybe you should wait until things cool down a little bit."](click:"cool down a little bit.")[ I was skeptical. It sounded like he was trying to keep me away. ==> [[⁕ "Well, I have to come anyway and talk to Amy's mom. But if you don't have time to see me, that's fine."]] [[⁕ "I don't want to fight. I just want to come home and see you."]]]

"Well, I have to come anyway and talk to Amy's mom," I said with a long sigh. "But if you don't have time to see me, that's fine." As much as I wanted to hang up after that, I didn't. I held on, waiting for what he'd say. I could tell he was choosing his words carefully.(click:"choosing his words carefully.")[ He sounded a lot softer when he spoke that time. "I don't have time to pick you up at the airport, but you should just come back to my place and see Mrs. Prescott tomorrow. Don't you think it'll be kind of late?" "Yeah, I guess you're right," I lied. I didn't know then why he was trying to keep me from Amy's house, but I knew Amy's mom would lovingly kill me if she found out I came into town and didn't see her immediately. "I'll call you when I land."](click:"when I land.")[ "Sure. See you," Dalton said. Then he hung up, without saying anything else.](click:"he hung up,")[ After the flight, I didn't call Dalton. I figured what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. ==> [[⁕ I rented a car and drove up into the woods, to my little hometown that I hadn't been to in years.]]]

"I don't wanna fight. I just wanna see you," I said, with a much softer tone. I always did that. I always let him rile me up and then I'd have to be the one to back down. Fuck, I hated it. (click:" I hated it.")[ Dalton sighed for what felt like the millionth time in the short phone call. "Me too. I didn't mean to be dismissive. I don't have time to pick you up, so you should rent a car." That was as close to an apology as I was ever going to get. "We're boarding soon," I said, just wanting it to be over. "I'll call you after I visit Amy's mom."](click:"after I visit Amy's mom.")[ "Sounds fine, just keep me posted," he mumbled. Before I could say anything else, he hung up. After the flight, I didn't call Dalton. I figured what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.](click:"what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.")[ ==> [[⁕ I rented a car and drove up into the woods, to my little hometown that I hadn't been to in years.]]]

It was strange, because when we were kids, we'd write each other little notes and hide them in the bedpost. If you replaced the knob, no one would ever know it wasn't attached right. It was our secret hiding spot. (click:"secret hiding spot.")[ I knew what was in the bed post. I didn't want to look. I wanted to go back to Dalton's place, eat cold pizza, go to sleep, and fly far away from that town the next day. But I didn't just leave it be - I slowly reached my hand into the bedpost and felt a small, folded up piece of paper. I pulled it out and unfolded it.](click:"and unfolded it.")[ It was a haphazardly written note. I knew before I even read it that it was for me. In green shaky handwriting, it said, "he's coming for me." The "e" at the end was scribbled on and the ink ran off the paper, like it was pulled out of her hands or she dropped it.](click:"like it was pulled out of her hands or she dropped it.")[ Fuck. //Fuck.// I wanted to scream. Amy did come back to the house. Mrs. Prescott didn't just dream of hearing the front door that night. She came back here in some last ditch attempt to get away from the fire she'd started, and the Candlemaker. ==> [[⁕ And at some point, he came in and took her from this very spot.]]]

When I looked up from the note, I noticed Amy's purse hanging from a hook on the back of the door. She never went anywhere without it. I folded the note up and put it in my pocket, opened up the flap of the purse. There sat Amy's wallet, chapstick, a scrunchie, folded up little receipts... And a lighter.(click:"And a lighter.")[ I took the lighter out and examined it. It was red, not purple - so it wasn't Amy's. It actually reminded me of- His initials were at the bottom. It was a graduation gift. DY.](click:"DY.")[ This was Dalton's lighter.](click:"This was Dalton's lighter.")[ I felt like I was sweating. My heart was racing in my ears and I thought I was going to collapse. I needed to get out of there as fast as I could. I was going to get into the rental car, go back to the airport, catch a flight home, change my name, escape to another country- But then there was a knock at the front door. Through Amy's bedroom door, I could hear Mrs. Prescott open it and greet the visitor.](click:"greet the visitor.")[ ==> [[⁕ "Dalton!" She said. "It's nice to see you again. We missed you at the funeral."]]]

Since when were Dalton and Mrs. Prescott on a first name basis? "Sorry, Mrs. Prescott." He didn't sound very sorry at all. He sounded distracted. "You haven't seen Maggie, have you?"(click:"Maggie, have you?")[ My time in Amy's bedroom was up. Quickly, I pulled Amy's Star Wars box out from under the bed. I flipped to the last page of her diary and ripped the entry about Dalton out. I'm not proud of it, I guess. But I knew even then that I needed it. I put the box back and saw the bedpost knob under the bed, so I replaced that as well.](click:"replaced that as well.")[ Most importantly, I pocketed my boyfriend's lighter. I opened Amy's bedroom door and picked up the big stack of textbooks that Mrs. Prescott asked me to grab. Coming down the stairs, I saw Dalton peering into the house. He looked visibly more tense when he saw me and met my gaze.](click:"met my gaze.")[ "Hey, sorry. Here are the textbooks, Mrs. Prescott. Do you need any help boxing them or whatever?" I set the pile on the dining room table. I was... Impressed at my own ability to pretend everything was fine. I think I put on the act for Amy's mom, mostly.](click:"Amy's mom, mostly.")[ ==> [[⁕ She didn't need to see my fight with Dalton. She didn't need to see me losing my mind over the Candlemaker.]]]

Mrs. Prescott shook her head. "No dear, thank you for grabbing them." She looked from me to Dalton, confusion in her eyes. Confused as she might be, she could feel the tension between the two of us. I think that's when Dalton knew that I knew. And I didn't exactly //know// anything - I just knew he and Amy were up to no good before she died. (click:"up to no good before she died.")[ Dalton cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, uh, Maggie... We should get going, don't you think?" Mrs. Prescott opened her mouth like she was going to invite us to stay, then promptly clamped it shut. She turned back to me and gently rubbed my arm. "It was so nice to see you, Magnolia. Please stop by again before you leave, okay?"](click:"before you leave, okay?")[ "Of course, Mrs. Prescott," I said with a smile. I meant it then, but I never returned to that house.](click:"I never returned to that house.")[ Dalton and I awkwardly said goodbye to Amy's mom and shuffled out of the house and into the driveway. He wouldn't stop looking at me except for when I'd catch him, and he'd look down at the sidewalk. "So, uh... You rented a car at the airport, huh?" He asked, walking up to the little blue sedan I'd picked up.](click:"the little blue sedan I'd picked up.")[ It took every ounce of self control I had to not snap at him. This wasn't over, and if I showed my hand too early, I might ruin it. ==> [[⁕ "You said you couldn't pick me up at the airport, so I didn't really have a choice."]]]

Dalton nodded and opened the passenger seat door as I unlocked the car. "Well, I've got some pizza in the fridge at home, and then we can talk-" I got into the driver's side and started the car. "Sure, yeah," I said mindlessly. I knew where we were headed, and it wasn't back to his place. (click:"it wasn't back to his place.")[ He didn't pick up on that nearly as fast as he should've, seeing how his place was walking distance from Amy's house. I drove past his street and down a few more before he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Maggie, where are we going?"](click:"where are we going?")[ "We're going to the campsite," I said calmly. "Mrs. Prescott told me all about Amy's party." "Oh? I didn't know she had a party."](click:"I didn't know she had a party.")[ I gripped the steering wheel tighter. I used to think he was such a good liar. "Yeah. They didn't have a body at the funeral because they couldn't find her, after that big fire? Remember, it was just a few weeks after you moved back into town." ==> [[⁕ If he wanted to play dumb, I could play dumb too.]]]

When I woke up, I was alone, in a dark room. (click:"in a dark room.")[ I sat up from my spot on the floor and felt my head pounding. I had no idea where I was, and I could hardly remember what had just happened. As I looked around the room, it all started to come back to me.](click:"all started to come back to me.")[ It was so dark because it was lit only by candle sconces along the walls. There were a few windows, but they looked out only into the dark night sky. Alongside what I assumed was a front door, there was also another door on the opposite side, which I assumed led into a bedroom. In the main room, it seemed to be... Some kind of workshop. There were vats of wax sitting around, with a big drafting table covered with bottles of different colored dye and designs sketched out onto paper. Wicks of various sizes hung from hooks by the vats.](click:"by the vats.")[ Fuck. Oh fuck. I scrambled to my feet. It was all coming back - Dalton, the fire, Amy's missing body... ==> [[⁕ I was in the Candlemaker's cabin.]]]

But if I was here, where was Dalton? I walked towards the front door and hesitated on opening it. I didn't know where was safe, if anywhere. But being confined, in the little cabin... I was already starting to feel a little feverish. I cracked the door open and stuck my head out. (click:"stuck my head out.")[ It was just as Mrs. Graham had described all those years ago. I couldn't believe my eyes as I stepped out into the night air. The cabin was in a huge forest clearing. The trees surrounded me, but closer than the trees were the candles. ](click:"were the candles.")[ I could tell even from afar that they were humans. The variation in size was slight, and on the closer ones I could see the frozen, horrified faces of all different kinds of people. There must've been hundreds of people, all positioned facing the cabin.](click:"facing the cabin.")[ I wanted to scream but nothing would come out. I was so exhausted, I didn't know what to do. Part of me wanted to find Dalton and the other part wanted to head straight for the trees. ==> [[⁕ There was a small rustling to my right that made me jump. ]]]

I must've not noticed her when I came out of the cabin, but there was a woman. She was older, with a pinned up bun of gray hair with messy strands hanging out. She had a few wrinkles around her lips, and by her eyes, but she seemed... Graceful. She reminded me a bit of Miss Graham. I could never put my finger on that.(click:"I could never put my finger on that.")[ Her hands were stained with different colors of wax but her nails were neat and tidy. She wore all black, with wax stains all over an apron. My eyes went wide.](click:"My eyes went wide.")[ This was the Candlemaker.](click:"This was the Candlemaker.")[ But she looked so... Normal. And in all the variations I'd heard over the years, never once had she been a woman. She noticed me looking at her from a distance and smiled. "Oh good," she said, sounding like she really meant it, "you're awake."](click:"you're awake.")[ "Wh- where am I?" I asked. I didn't believe I was awake anymore - I was convinced this was all some near death hallucination. The Candlemaker shook her head as she walked toward me. "I think you know, Magnolia."](click:"Magnolia.")[ I backed myself up against the wall of the cabin. ==> [[⁕ "No," I whispered, "this isn't real. You're not real."]]]

"No," I whispered, "this isn't real. You're not real." She gently shushed me. "I know it's a lot to take in." (click:"I know it's a lot to take in.")[ "You're the-" "The Candlemaker," she said with a tinge of sadness. ](click:"sadness.")[ "But you- You're a-" I couldn't finish any of my sentences. I felt like I was going to pass out again.](click:"pass out again.")[ The Candlemaker stopped a few feet from me and wrung her hands together. She was much different than everything I'd ever imagined. She seemed nervous and her words were carefully chosen. I remembered being told once that the Candlemaker was the devil - that wasn't her. Maybe she just reminded me of myself, and I didn't want to admit that yet.](click:"I didn't want to admit that yet.")[ I finally blurted out, "you're not who I thought you'd be." That seemed to amuse her a bit. "Believe it or not, I've been told that a few times. I think... The story they tell isn't quite right anymore." ==> [[⁕ "What... What's the right story then, I asked?"]]]

She let out a long sigh. "It's similar, I suppose..." That was when I finally got to hear the true story of the forest of candles. (click:"the true story of the forest of candles.")[ "I learned how to make candles from my mother. I showed a natural talent for it from a young age and it quickly became my biggest passion. For most of my life, it was all I thought about and all I did. I was quite good at it and I felt I'd found my purpose.](click:"my purpose.")[ Then when I was a bit older, I met a man who lived in the same town as me. He looked at me like I was a star and he was so kind and appreciated how much I loved my art. It was so easy for me to fall in love with him. ](click:"fall in love with him.")[ We were together for decades. He was with me when I moved from the town into our first little cabin - he even helped me build it. We always said we only needed each other in this life, but at some point, that stopped being true.](click:"stopped being true.")[ I became obsessed with my candles. I was finding ways to do things that never should've been possible - candles as tall as trees, carvings as intricate as renaissance paintings... It was what I'd think of from sunup to sun down. ==> [[⁕⁕⁕->cont7]]]

He grew frustrated with me. I suppose I wasn't making as much time for him as I did when we were both young. He stopped acting as though my candles were impressive and instead treated it all as menial work. That was what hurt the most, I think - his disinterest. It felt so sudden. (click:"It felt so sudden.")[ When I had built up my forest of candles, my rows of favorite pieces that I refused to melt down, we got into a fight. He told me I didn't appreciate him and he wasn't going to stand for it any longer.](click:"he wasn't going to stand for it any longer.")[ It caught me off guard. I didn't know what to tell him, since I wasn't going to stop what I loved doing. I tried to assure him that I still loved him and that would never change, but things escalated. I was being arrogant and he was being stubborn. I asked him why he wouldn't just let this all go.](click:"let this all go.")[ He told me he was leaving me for someone else. He'd met someone in town that he wanted to be with. He wanted to move back there and return to a "normal" life, he said. He accused me of wasting the best years of his life, and I...](click:"and I...")[ I can't remember what happened next. We were shouting at each other when he stormed out of the cabin and accused me of loving the candles more than I loved him. I tried to tell him that wasn't true, but he already... Had the matchbox."](click:"matchbox.")[ "Wait," I interrupted. "The Arsonist was your-" ==> [[⁕ The Candlemaker nodded. "He wasn't some stranger in the woods like the way most people tell it. He was the love of my life, Magnolia."]]]

I didn't understand. "If he was the love of your life, why did you kill him? Why would you start killing other people?" I asked as I looked out at the rows and rows of petrified faces facing me.(click:"petrified faces facing me.")[ She started walking out towards the candles, to the first blue one by the door. It was of a tall man frozen with one arm reaching out in front of him. I took a few steps to follow her but didn't dare get too close. "The first time it was an accident," she admitted. She looked down at her ink stained hands. "I didn't know I was even capable of that. I was so angry when he tried to grab me that I just... It happened so fast."](click:"It happened so fast.")[ "Do you regret it?" I asked.](click:"Do you regret it?")[ The Candlemaker looked a bit amused at that question. "Would you?" She asked. ](click:"Would you?")[ I tried to find words to respond but kept coming up empty. I wanted to say yes, but the feeling of finding Dalton's lighter in Amy's bag was still burned in the front of my brain. ==> [[⁕⁕⁕->cont8]]]

"I started taking other arsonists after I could rebuild my workshop. I waited until the fire had passed and stayed here in my clearing. And in the aftermath of the fire, not just of my candles but of the surrounding forest, I could feel this... Profound sadness. There was so much lost." She turned away from the wax statue of her lover and looked down at the grass below us. (click:"at the grass below us.")[ "The forest never forgives, and neither do I," she said. I'll never forget that.](click:"I'll never forget that.")[ "You don't think it's wrong?" I finally asked. "You're //killing// people." She didn't answer me. I wonder if she didn't have an answer to give. "I heard everything that happened between the two of you," she said.](click:"everything that happened between the two of you")[ Two? I thought. So that means Dalton must be here too. I wondered why he wasn't in the cabin with me. She continued, "I saw all of it... The argument, the fire. When it came time to take him, I decided to bring you with us. I wanted you to see all of this. I hoped it would help you finally understand, after all these years."](click:"after all these years.")[ ==> [[⁕ "How do you know so much about me?"]]]

Dalton shook his head. "I-I don't think we should go back to the campsite, Maggie. Most of it's burned up anyway. It's not like you're going to find anything-" "Is there something you don't want me to find?" I snapped back. (click:"I snapped back.")[ "If this is all about that stupid Candlemaker story, you know it's just a fairy tale."](click:"just a fairy tale.")[ Him saying that almost hurt more than anything I'd found that day. It felt cruel in such a calculated way. Dalton knew me in high school, when the Candlemaker still haunted me - he knew how much the story left an impact on me, how it drove me away from home.](click:"drove me away from home.")[ I couldn't keep it in any longer. "That's all you wanna talk about? The Candlemaker? You don't have anything to say about Amy, or the fire, or-" "No!" He laughed nervously. "Why would I have anything to say about that?" ](click:"Why would I have anything to say about that?")[ I couldn't believe he was keeping the act up. I was speeding through town at that point. I drove past all the campsites until I got to the one on the side of the hill, where the Sunset fire started. I didn't answer Dalton, I parked the car and got out.](click:"got out.")[ He followed me. "Maggie, you're acting crazy!"](click:"acting crazy!")[ ==> [[⁕ "I'm acting crazy!?"]]]

"I'm acting crazy?" I repeated incredulously. I shook my head and looked away from him to the scarred trees instead. Most of the hillside was a burn scar, but it seemed like they'd managed to keep most of the east side of camp from burning. The trees over there were healthy, thriving, against the black charred corpses of the west side of camp. (click:"west side of camp.")[ I started to walk up the hill to where the live trees and dead trees met, but Dalton grabbed my wrist. "Babe, this is crazy. You're not going to find anything because the Candlemaker doesn't exist." He gently pulled me closer to him and it might've felt like a nice gesture if he wasn't intently studying me, trying to figure out what I knew. "What's this really about?"](click:"What's this really about?")[ I pulled my hand away from him and pulled Amy's diary entry out of my pocket. "I don't know what this is really about, Dalton. On one hand, I feel like I'm losing my mind, like all of my childhood nightmares have come true, and on the other it seems like //you// were directly involved in that!" I shoved the paper at him.](click:"shoved the paper at him.")[ He was looking at me like I was crazy when he unfolded the paper and read it. Immediately his face fell and his eyes widened. When he looked up at me, he actually looked a little sorry for the first time. "Maggie, it's not really what you think."](click:"it's not really what you think.")[ ==> [[⁕ "You were there with her when she died, Dalton. Or at least, you were there when the fire started."]]]

"You were there with her when she died, Dalton." It took every fiber of my being not to raise my voice. "Or at least, you were there when the fire started."(click:"the fire started.")[ "I mean yeah, I-" "As far as I knew, you didn't even //like// Amy! When you told me she died, you couldn't even give me any details. And suddenly, you were there when it happened?"](click:"you were there when it happened?")[ Dalton didn't know what to say. He knew he was caught. I kept rambling. "And you weren't just //there//, something was going on with you two. She's got a heart next to your initial and Mrs. Prescott knew your name and asked if I'd broken up with my boyfriend, and... And..." I started to lose my breath. I was losing my mind. I didn't even know where to go from there. I felt tears welling up in my eyes.](click:"tears welling up in my eyes.")[ ==> [[⁕ I took a deep breath and finally said, "Just tell me that you were cheating on me with Amy."]]]

I took a deep breath and finally said, "Just tell me that you were cheating on me with Amy." Dalton sighed. I could almost see the gears turning in his head as he tried to figure out what he could say or how he could lie, but he gave up. "Yeah," he said. "I... When I moved back, Amy and I saw each other most days since she worked at the gas station. And she would tell me all about her big life plans and you were so busy with work and one thing led to another, I guess."(click:"one thing led to another, I guess.")[ I balled my hands into fists and pressed them into my eyes to try to keep the tears at bay. I don't even think I was crying because I was sad, it was because I was so angry. I was so overwhelmed. I was losing so much all at once.](click:"losing so much all at once.")[ "But it didn't mean anything, I swear. And I thought after she died-"](click:"after she died-")[ ==> [[⁕ "That you just wouldn't have to tell me what you did?"]] [[⁕ "That everything between us would just be normal?"]]]

"That you just wouldn't have to tell me what you did?" I spat. "You know I was going to find out sometime." (click:"find out sometime.")[ Dalton put his hands up in defense. "No! I didn't mean..." I scoffed and threw my hands up in the air. "So you didn't just cheat on me, you tried to cover up how she died, and you didn't want me to come to my old best friend's funeral either."](click:"funeral either.")[ Dalton started to sound more defensive. "I didn't think it'd be good for you, with your obsession with that story." I pulled Dalton's lighter out of my pocket and he froze. I held it tight in my hand. "This is yours, isn't it? I found it in Amy's bag."](click:"I found it in Amy's bag.")[ He fell silent. He looked down at the ground so he didn't have to look at me. "Let me guess, she was drunk, and you all dared her to start a fire. Or you guys wanted a bonfire or something stupid like that?" I started walking toward him, and he started backing up the hill.](click:"backing up the hill.")[ "That isn't fair, Maggie," Dalton mumbled. ==> [[⁕ "Which part isn't fair? The fact that my old best friend is dead, or that it's your fault?"]]]

"That everything between us would just be normal?" I spat. "You could just go off and sleep with and maybe indirectly //kill// my best friend and that wouldn't matter to me?"(click:"that wouldn't matter to me?")[ "No!" Dalton shouted. "I mean, I didn't-" I pulled his lighter out of my pocket and he froze. I held it tight in my hand. "This is yours, isn't it? I found it in Amy's bag." He fell silent. He looked down at the ground so he didn't have to look at me.](click:"look at me.")[ "Let me guess, she was drunk, and you all dared her to start a fire. Or you guys wanted a bonfire or something stupid like that?" I started walking toward him, and he started backing up the hill. "That isn't fair, Maggie," Dalton mumbled.](click:"That isn't fair, Maggie")[ ==> [[⁕ "Which part isn't fair? The fact that my old best friend is dead, or that it's your fault?"]]]

"Which part isn't fair? The fact that my old best friend is dead, or that it's your fault?" I couldn't even look at him anymore. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked up at the sky. There was only a bit of light left in the day. (click:"only a bit of light left in the day.")[ Finally, Dalton lost it. "It wasn't my goddamn fault!" He said, crumpling up Amy's diary entry. "We were all drunk and it just got out of control. I gave her my lighter but I didn't think she'd really do anything with it. All of a sudden there was a fire and when we were running away, she wasn't following us. I'm grieving here too!"](click:"I'm grieving here too!")[ //I'm grieving here too.// I wanted to kill him when he said that.](click:"I wanted to kill him when he said that.")[ "It's your fault she's dead, Dalton. The Candlemaker took her, and you know it." He groaned dramatically. "Listen, I'll prove it isn't real." He took the lighter out of my hand and took a few big steps back, holding Amy's last diary entry in his other hand.](click:"in his other hand.")[ ==> [[⁕ My eyes went wide. "Don't," I said softly, backing up. "You don't know what you're doing."]]]

My eyes went wide. "Don't," I said softly, backing up. "You don't know what you're doing."(click:"don't know what you're doing.")[ "Nothing's going to happen! There's hardly anything to burn on this side. You'll see," he said as he lit the piece of notebook paper.](click:"as he lit the piece of notebook paper.")[ It caught so much faster than either of us thought. He yelped and dropped it, and the wind blew it away from us to the still-living west side. Even as the paper completely turned to ash, the brush caught fire and spread quickly.](click:"the brush caught fire and spread quickly.")[ Dalton looked back to me with a deranged, proud look. "See? Nothing's happening."](click:"a deranged, proud look.")[ "I can't believe you'd start a fire just to prove a fucking point!" I watched as the brush caught a tree, and tears started streaming down my face. It was all just too overwhelming.](click:"all just too overwhelming.")[ He started to pull on my arm. "We've gotta go," he said, trying to pull me toward the car, "we'll call the fire department on the way." But he couldn't pull me away from the sight of the forest fire. A gust of wind strong enough to make us stumble blew from east to west, pushing the fire even further. I started to get dizzy and it felt as though my head were floating away from my body. Dalton was holding my wrist, but he sounded so far away, mumbling something about feeling strange and how the smoke inhalation must've been getting to him.](click:"must've been getting to him.")[ ==> [[⁕ I blacked out before I could respond.->candlemaker1]]]

"How do you know so much about me?" I asked, barely in a whisper, relaxing a bit from my place against the cabin wall. In the blink of an eye, the Candlemaker was closer to me. She reached her hand out and brushed her colorful fingers across the top of my hand. I let her gently take my hand into hers and examine my palm like she was reading it. "I've known you your whole life," she said, looking up from my palm. (click:"looking up from my palm.")[ I still don't know what she meant by that. I wish I did. Sometimes, I think it's because she was always there - when I felt I was being watched when I was growing up, maybe it was just...](click:"maybe it was just...")[ Her presence was strangely comforting. "Do you want to see Dalton first, or your old friend?" She asked as she lowered my hand back down to my side.](click:"back down to my side.")[ I took a moment to consider it. ==> [[⁕ "I want to see Dalton."]] [[⁕ "I want to see Amy."]]]

Welcome to //The Forest of Candles (And The Man With A Lighter).// ''How to play'' This game is text-based, with different colored links to indicate different things. (text-style:"underline")[(text-color: #e67e10)[Orange links] that are underlined] when you hover over them will bring up additional text in the passage, and (text-color: #cf0000)[red links with a "⁕" symbol] will bring you to the next node. Sometimes there are multiple red links, indicating a choice to be made. Occasionally, there will be a red link that is only (text-color: #cf0000)["⁕⁕⁕"] - these will bring you to the next node as well. Click [[here->tw]] for a node detailing trigger warnings to be aware of! This story is approximately 12k words long, so feel free to save your game and return to it! ==> [[⁕ Start game]]

Tw: murder, death (of a best friend, a boyfriend, lots of arsonists, etc.), cheating, shitty boyfriend behavior, childhood superstitions, wildfire/brush fire descriptions [[Return to start->Intro]]

"I want to see Dalton," I said confidently. I wanted to know if he was dead or alive. (click:"dead or alive.")[ The Candlemaker looked slightly amused at that. "Well, follow me then." She turned on her heel and started walking down one of the many lines of wax candles. I watched her start to walk for a while before I began to follow, keeping my distance. The candles went on for much longer than I'd thought they had - the trees always looked close, but never seemed to get closer as you walked towards them. I tried to wrap my head around how this place could exist without anyone knowing about it.](click:"without anyone knowing about it.")[ I kept my eyes down so I didn't have to look at the frozen faces of the arsonists as I walked by. I mostly noticed their shoes, the variety - boots, heels, sneakers... I always had a picture in my head of arsonists as big, scary men who carried around matchboxes. That seemed to be true less and less the further we walked. Suddenly, I could hear Dalton's voice - his screams. I looked up and saw the Candlemaker walking towards his spot at the very end of the line.](click:"at the very end of the line.")[ He was petrified from the knees down. His feet were stuck together with wax and he was screaming in agony. I couldn't meet his eyes until we got closer. ==> [[⁕ The Candlemaker stood to the side silently as I approached him.]]]

"I want to see Amy," I said. "I know she's dead, but I have to see her." The Candlemaker nodded solemnly. "I understand," she said. "Come, this way." She turned on her heel and started walking down one of the long lines of arsonists behind the cabin. (click:"behind the cabin.")[ I watched her start to walk for a while before I began to follow, keeping my distance. The candles went on for much longer than I'd thought they had - the trees always looked close, but never seemed to get closer as you walked towards them. I tried to wrap my head around how this place could exist without anyone knowing about it.](click:"without anyone knowing about it.")[ I kept my eyes down so I didn't have to look at the frozen faces of the arsonists as I walked by. I mostly noticed their shoes, the variety - boots, heels, sneakers... I always had a picture in my head of arsonists as big, scary men who carried around matchboxes. That seemed to be true less and less the further we walked.](click:"the further we walked.")[ She stopped abruptly at a purple candle, and I recognized it immediately as Amy, even if she looked different from the last time I'd seen her. Her hair was grown out from the shoulder-length cut she used to have, and she was taller than I thought she'd been. She was barefoot, since she'd managed to make it home first. She was frozen with her eyes squeezed closed and her lips parted, with her folded in front of her, like she had been begging for mercy.](click:"like she had been begging for mercy.")[ I felt a rush of grief wash over me. Now I knew for sure that she was dead, that it was over, that I'd never see her again. ==> [[⁕ Now I knew for sure, it was Dalton's fault.]]]

Dalton's eyes were screwed shut until he heard my footsteps, when they snapped open. The instant he saw me, he started begging. "Maggie, Maggie, please," he sputtered. "You have to help me."(click:"You have to help me.")[ The red wax was slowly creeping up past his knees. He was struggling against it, as the tips of his fingers started to solidify as well. All I could do was stand there and watch. I didn't know what to do or say. I couldn't ignore this feeling in my chest, screaming //he deserves it.// It was such a strange feeling of vindication. My whole life, everyone had given me a hard time for being so scared, being so sensitive about wildfires, including him.](click:"including him.")[ //He hurt me.// As if he could read my mind, he started crying, "I"m sorry! I'm sorry, Maggie. I shouldn't have done what I did." The wax reached his elbow and there was a strange //craaaaack// noise as his joint was frozen in place. He screamed again.](click:"He screamed again.")[ "I can reverse it," the Candlemaker said to me, so casually. "If you want, I can stop it. But not after it's complete - then it's permanent. I looked at her, confused. ==> [[⁕ "Are you asking me to choose?"]]]

The Candlemaker shrugged. "Well, you asked me if I regretted it. I want to know what you think." I stood there in shock. I started to take a few steps back, and Dalton began to panic. "You can't leave me here," he shouted. "Please, Maggie, babe."(click:"Maggie, babe.")[ "You can take him with you, back to your lives," the Candlemaker said, "or... You could stay here." "Stay here?" I asked, shaking my head in confusion. "I don't-"](click:"Stay here?")[ The Candlemaker's eyes softened . "I know you feel it too, Magnolia. That righteous instinct, that anger... You can //use// it for something. You can protect the forests. You can protect yourself from people like him," she whispered as she nodded back to Dalton. "I know you're hurt. But you could do something about it."](click:"do something about it.")[ My heart caught in my throat. Dalton's screams were drowned out by the drumming in my ears. I didn't know what I wanted. I was scared that she was right.](click:"that she was right.")[ Dalton was mostly wax, with his entire torso completely red, including his hoodie and button down shirt. I didn't have a lot of time to make my decision. I thought about everything he'd done, all the ways he'd lied... How scared I'd felt my entire life... ==> [[⁕ "I want to take Dalton and leave."]] [[⁕ "I want to stay."]]]

"I want to take Dalton and leave!" I said, walking towards Dalton's ever freezing body. "I can't... I can't stay here with you." Dalton looked relieved for the first time. He was still wincing in pain, but the agony of the choice was gone. (click:"the agony of the choice")[ The Candlemaker sighed. "I... Are you sure that's the best choice, Magnolia?"](click:"Magnolia?")[ I nodded. "I'm not a murderer," I said. "I'm... I'm not my boyfriend. I'm not his choices, or the pain he's left me. I can't stay here in that feeling."](click:"I can't stay here in that feeling.")[ She nodded solemnly, wisely. The word for it finally came to me - she felt so maternal to me. As much as I didn't want to stay, I couldn't deny the energy of warmth she had about her. "I understand," she whispered. "I'll miss our time together, Magnolia."](click:"I'll miss our time together, Magnolia.")[ With a snap of her fingers, the wax on Dalton's body began to creep back. A pool of red wax, like blood, formed at his feet as he was released from her clutches. He fell to his knees with a shudder and a few deep coughs. When he wasn't looking, the Candlemaker looked at me one more time. She winked, waved her hand in a smooth, graceful movement toward the sky, and a gust of wind blew through the trees.](click:"blew through the trees")[ ==> [[⁕ We woke up in the campsite parking lot.]]]

"I want to stay," I whispered, unsure at first. Both the Candlemaker and Dalton looked at me in alarm. I second-guessed my decision for just a moment before affirming it again. "I want to stay," I said louder. "You're right. I can't be hurt like this again."(click:"I can't be hurt like this again.")[ The Candlemaker smiled at me, like a proud mother. As the sunrise was nearing, I could see more of her - the peppered grey and black hair, green eyes, a small frame... She was so distinctly familiar. "That's excellent," she said.](click:"She was so distinctly familiar.")[ She looked back at Dalton, who was past begging. "I can't //believe you,//" he yelled. "I didn't even do anything! You can't really-"](click:"You can't really-")[ I don't know what she did, but the wax began to accelerate. I think she was holding it back for my sake. Dalton's mouth was covered in a flash, and the wax crept up his face, permanently petrifying him with a vile, angry look on his face. I remembered what Miss Graham said: "A victim of Medusa."](click:"A victim of Medusa.")[ And suddenly, it was silent. Dalton's voice disappeared and all I could hear was the sound of the dawn wind blowing peacefully through the trees that surrounded the forest of candles. I had missed that sound.](click:"I had missed that sound.")[ I looked to the Candlemaker. She set her hand on my shoulder, and gave me a small shake. Then, she pulled me into a hug. It felt like Mrs. Prescott's kind of hug, and I melted into it. I felt safe.](click:"I felt safe.")[ ==> [[⁕ I felt like everything that had hurt me that day was gone.]]]

The Candlemaker hugged me tight as the sun started to come over the mountains. "Welcome home, Magnolia."(click:"Welcome home, Magnolia.")[ ==><== ⁕ The End ⁕](click:"⁕ The End ⁕")[ [[Return to start->⁕ Start game]] ]

"I need to see Dalton now," I said, wiping tears away with the back of my hand. "He's alive, isn't he?" The Candlemaker seemed a bit amused, but nodded. "Yes, he's still alive. He's on the other side of the house."(click:"the other side of the house.")[ As we walked along the other line of arsonists, I started to look at the faces of the candles. Most were screaming in pain, a few had fallen to their knees, or clutching their heart. I shuddered, thinking about how it would feel, how Amy felt.](click:"how Amy felt.")[ Suddenly, I could hear Dalton's voice - his screams. I looked up and saw the Candlemaker walking towards his spot at the very end of the line.](click:"at the very end of the line.")[ He was petrified from the knees down. His feet were stuck together with wax and he was screaming in agony. I couldn't meet his eyes until we got closer. ==> [[⁕ The Candlemaker stood to the side silently as I approached him.]]]

The sky was black except for the roaring flames that were bruning through the east side of the campsites. The fire was much bigger than the one Amy had started - it was going to reach the river soon, unless someone stepped in.(click:"unless someone stepped in.")[ I sat up to see Dalton still passed out on the pavement beside me. He looked like hell - ash covered his fingertips and he looked sickly pale. When he started to stir, I scrambled to my feet and looked around. On the side of the hill, reflecting the moonlight, was his red initialed lighter.](click:"red initialed lighter.")[ I grabbed it as I heard fire department sirens blaring in the distance. If this was going to work, I had to get out of there quickly. Dalton called my name as he started to open his eyes. "Maggie, shit... My head..." I shushed him and gently pushed him back down. "It's okay, Dalton," I said in a soothing voice. "Everything's okay now. Don't get up, okay?"](click:"Don't get up, okay?")[ "Fuck, where are we?" He asked as he started to wake up more. He shook his head and his eyes went wide. "Wait, Maggie-" Digging the car keys out of my pocket, I stood and headed for the rental car.](click:"and headed for the rental car.")[ "Maggie, they're going to think I, I-" "You did, didn't you?" I asked. "You started the wildfire." I tossed the lighter over to him from the car, letting it skid across the pavement next to his hand.](click:"next to his hand.")[ ==> [[⁕ "It's over, Dalton."]]]

"What?" He asked in pure disbelief. He struggled to get to his feet. "No, Maggie, we can work this out. This doesn't even-" I started the rental car and threw it into reverse. (click:"threw it into reverse.")[ "Don't you //dare// leave me here!" He shouted as I turned the car around and headed back to the main road.](click:"the main road.")[ I fell in line with the other cars evacuating the campsite as the town's fire engine came speeding around the corner. No one would know I was ever there. I never returned to that town ever again. I never worried about the Candlemaker ever again.](click:"I never worried about the Candlemaker ever again.")[ And I never saw Dalton again.](click:"And I never saw Dalton again.")[ ==><== ⁕ The End ⁕](click:"⁕ The End ⁕")[ [[Return to start->⁕ Start game]] ]