The Legend of the Witch’s Candle

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. It reached between the tree limbs and caught Emma’s eye. She inhaled sharply. “Mommy, what’s that?” she queried, as they hiked nearer. Sasha felt her little girl tugging her toward the wavering light. Instinctively, she pulled Emma closer.

Emma’s daddy, Eric, answered first “Huh, it looks like a candle is lit in that old creepy cabin. Do you think someone’s in there?”

Sasha smiled and raised her eyebrows “Well, I don’t think the candle lit itself.”

“Can candles do that?” Emma inquired.

“No, baby, a person has to light them” Sasha replied calmly.

“You mean, unless the candle is charmed with a magic spell!” Eric said with a spooky flair, shining his flashlight under the scary face he was making. “Haven’t you heard the legend of this place?” he continued.

“No, I haven’t heard the legend about this place. And even if I had, I’m sure it’s only a silly story made up to scare passing hikers like us” Sasha replied with good-humored skepticism.

“Then you must not have heard…” he paused dramatically, “The Legend of the Witch’s Candle!” Sasha smiled and rolled her eyes. “Wait, have you really not heard of it?” Eric asked incredulously.

“No, I really haven’t heard of it,” Sasha replied mildly.

Emma stopped walking and stated “I want to hear the legend!” with the earnestness that comes so naturally to young children.

“Are you sure?” Eric asked her. “It might be scary!”

“I’m big. I’m even big enough to carry this huuuuuge flashlight! I can handle it!” Emma responded as the beam of her truthfully rather massive flashlight skittered across the branches leaning all around them.

“Okay, Emma, carrier of the big light, I’ll tell you the story.”

“Yay!” Emma exclaimed as she squeezed her stuffed bear closer to her in anticipation.

Noticing this potential sign of anxiety, Sasha asked “But what about Miss Bear? Is she big enough to hear the story or do you think it might give her scary nightmares?”

Emma considered this briefly and then said with conviction “It’s okay, if Miss Bear gets too scared you can help her feel better.”

“Ok, it’s settled then,” Eric replied. And with the dark forest crowding around them, he began.

“The legend claims that once, a long time ago, there was a witch who lived in this cabin. The people of the nearby town respected her. When they were in need of a healing salve or some other remedy they would come to her, and her potions would make their problems go away. She was indeed magical, the people of the village would whisper to one another in the dark hush of night.

Then one day, the witch bore a child. She was perfect, so beautiful, with strangely colored eyes at once filled with mystery and a clarity that made people feel as if she could read their very thoughts. Some said she really could. As the child grew and demonstrated one astonishing feat after another, fear grew in the hearts of the townsfolk. Who was this strange and powerful child who could speak others’ thoughts aloud? Whose secrets might she bring to light if she was left unchecked? They fed each other’s fear with stories and speculating, each thread of gossip weaving an increasingly sinister tapestry of who this little girl was, until they became engorged with hatred.

Then one night, fear did what it does best. It destroyed. No longer able to stand such a powerful, unknowable, untrainable child to threaten their peace, they came for her. However supernatural mother and child may have been, they were tragically outmatched by the number of townsfolk, and by the blindness of the collective fear. Sensing the mob reaching for them in the night, mother and child huddled together in the pantry, hoping the darkness would hide them. In their rush they had forgotten to extinguish the candle that still burned in the window. The light betrayed their little cabin, guiding the mob right to their door. The townsfolk had brought hounds whose noses were far too reliable, and whose loyalty fell to their fear-gripped masters. Within moments, the two were found. With a triumphant cry, the hunters ripped the little girl from her mother’s arms and carried her out of the house and into the violent grasp of the people. But as they dragged the witch towards the door, she suddenly vanished into thin air, never to reappear. Although perplexed and enraged by the mother’s abrupt vanishing, the people had captured the one they feared most, the one who could allegedly see beyond the barrier of one's eyes and expose their darkest of secrets. Her death satisfied their gluttonous fear and they abandoned the cabin, never returning.

“To this day, some claim they have seen a single candle burning in the vacant window. Is it a warning? Or a trap? One must enter the witch’s realm to find out for sure. But so the legend goes, once you enter, you may never come out.”

Emma’s eyes were large in the dimming flashlight beam. She banged on it with her little hand, encouraging the battery to try harder. She then looked up at her father. “Wait…is the witch still in there? In that cabin right there?”

Eric gave a conspiratorial smile. “That’s what they say. Maybe we should go see if she’s the one who lit the candle…”

Emma’s eyes became even bigger. Sasha thought for sure she would shy away from the scary possibilities of the cabin. But in an increasingly common blossoming of bravery Emma nodded yes, a smile lighting her face. “Come on, Mommy!” she said as she grabbed Sasha’s hand. “Let’s go find a witch!”

Eric and Emma began walking toward the candle glow emanating from the cabin window. “Are we really going to approach a stranger’s home in the middle of nowhere at night?” Sasha asked Eric, discomfort coloring her tone.

“Why not? It’s a spooky adventure!” Eric responded with the kid-like sense of fun she normally adored about him.

“I just feel uneasy about this. I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Sasha explained. “What if there’s…an unwholesome person in there? What if it’s not safe?”

“What’s an unwholesome person? Do you mean a witch? I want to see her!” Emma said with innocent enthusiasm.

“Something like that…” Sasha replied.

“There’s probably not even anyone in there,” Eric stated.

“Well, then who lit the candle?” Sasha retorted.

“The witch!” Emma provided.

Eric responded “It was probably just some bored kids playing around. Maybe they forgot to blow it out. Which is why we should go explore. We wouldn’t want the place to accidentally burn down. Only YOU can prevent forest fires!” He added in his best but not good Smokey the Bear impression.

Sasha, always charmed by his dad jokes, laughed a short sigh of a laugh and gave in, allowing Emma to pull her by the hand toward the cabin, pine needles crisply whispering in warning under their shoes.

Of course, the steps to the front door creaked loudly. How they were even still functional, Sasha didn’t know. She reached a hand up to knock but Emma grabbed the handle and the door swung open with an odd, expectant silence. The cabin was bigger than it appeared from the outside. Looking around the dimly lit and long-abandoned space, Sasha saw a rustic table and fireplace, along with remnants of wooden chairs. Ample cobwebs and a thick layer of dust coated everything. Two smaller rooms adjoined the main room. The smell of time hung stagnant in the air, dry and unmoved. Emma’s sweet voice sounded jarring in the vacant room. It imposed on the stillness and caused Sasha’s nerves to jangle slightly.

Sasha didn’t like this place. “Let’s just blow out the candle and go home,” she said.

“But I want to explore!” Emma cried.

“Yeah, I want to explore too!” said Eric. “After all, it’s not every day we get to investigate haunted cabins,” Emma grabbed his hand and dragged him into one of the rooms, flashlight beam swinging.

With a sigh of resignation, Sasha walked slowly toward the candle, her path crossing the footprints left by Eric and Emma. Her daughter’s feet were so small compared to her dad’s, Sasha mused, her heart warmed by the observation. Suddenly she realized there were only footprints from her family. Where were the footprints of the person who lit the candle? Strange, she thought, as a chill wriggled up her spine. She could hear Eric and Emma’s conspiratorial voices in the next room as they explored, a mix of whispered exclamations and giggles. At least she could be sure they were the only ones in here.

Sasha approached the candle. It sat on the windowsill, a small side table with hand-turned legs beside it. A large antique mirror in a plain wooden frame loomed behind the sidetable. Sasha always liked the way old mirrors desilvered over time. She would stare into them and imagine the generations of people before her considering their own reflections in that same mirror, perhaps before a moonlit tryst or an important business meeting. Maybe they were fathers or mothers, friends or sisters. Did they like what their reflection showed them? She looked at her own deep brown eyes in the mirror. Only for a moment, they were not her eyes at all. A fierce, sharp gray gaze met hers, paralyzing her with fear. Suddenly, her body was racked with a hard shiver that nearly doubled her over. When she returned her focus to the mirror, she saw only herself, hair a little messy from the long hike with Eric and Emma, familiar brown eyes meeting only themselves. Disturbed, she turned away from the old mirror and called to her family in a shaky voice.

“Eric, Emma, it’s time to go. It’s past Emma’s bedtime and we still have a ways to go.” They didn’t answer. “Guys, come on. Please don’t play games with me right now. It’s not funny.” Fear smeared an irritated edge on her voice. Her words were met with silence. Fumbling for her flashlight, she clicked it on but still it gaped, lifeless in her hand. She grimaced in frustration. “Guys, let’s go, now! I’m serious!” How could they even hide from her when every floorboard squeaked like it was being killed? She wondered.

Hands outstretched, she walked stiffly into the next room, but met with only rough walls and what she thought was once a bed. “Can we go home now, please?!” She shouted. Agitation was quickly being outpaced by fear. Her steps quickening with barely suppressed panic, she fell over something hard as she attempted to enter the second room. Her shin throbbed sharply and she felt blood drip down her leg. “Guys, where are you?!” she yelled. Maybe they’re just outside, she reasoned. That’s it, they slipped outside when she wasn’t paying attention and were waiting for her out there. With care, she made her way back over the hidden obstacle and to the front door. Her hand closed on the cold knob but it wouldn’t turn. It felt as if it had never even been made to turn, it was so obstinate in her shaking hand. Sasha banged on the door with both fists. “I’m still in here! Let me out! The door is stuck!” she called. She expected to hear Eric’s sturdy steps coming to open the door. Yet the only sound was her own panicked breathing. She banged again, and again, calling out in terror. What was this? What could possibly be happening that her family had abandoned her and left her trapped in this hell? An idea sparked in her mind. Maybe she could use the candle to get their attention somehow. In a moment she was across the room, again in front of the mirror. To her relief, as she reached for the candle she saw Emma in the mirror behind her, smiling. “There you are! Why did you and daddy do that? You really scared me!” she said through tears as she spun to hug her daughter. However when she turned to face the room, she was met once again with emptiness. She snapped back around to face the mirror. There was Emma. There was Eric. And there was someone else. Why could she only see them in the mirror and not in the room with her?

“What the hell is happening? Am I losing my mind? Who are you?” she demanded aloud. The stranger didn’t respond. No one did. Again she turned toward the room and again the room before her was empty. “No, no, no, no…” the words of denial spilled from her mouth in wretched whispers. Slowly, she turned toward the mirror, her body aching with a dread that turned her bones to lead. There was her family, on the other side of the mirror. And there was the stranger, kneeling down talking to Emma. Emma was smiling back at her as the woman softly tucked a strand of hair behind Emma’s ear. Eric helped her up and leaned in, stealing a kiss. Why was he kissing this woman? And why was Emma holding her hand? The woman stood and walked toward the mirror. Sasha began screaming and banging on the mirror with her fists. “Eric! Emma! Help! Help me! I’m in the mirror!” Her words fell like birds shot from the sky, never reaching their destination. The woman did not look at her. Instead, she strode purposefully up to the candle and blew it out, extinguishing any hope Sasha had left. Her screams dissolved into sobs. Cold moonlight cast deep shadows across the room. Only then did the woman’s sharp, gray gaze meet Sasha’s tear-filled eyes in the mirror. A cruel, satisfied smile flicked across her face. Then she turned. Sasha watched, helpless, as the woman walked toward the door. Emma took the woman’s hand and led her cheerfully down the front steps. Eric paused only briefly, as if to verify he hadn’t missed any fun, hidden surprises. Then he turned his back on the mirror and strode through the door, closing it like a tomb behind him.