You were at home on Christmas night, all alone.

Your family, wealthy, busy, and always traveling, had left you behind again. The house was silent, the only sound of the faint hum of the heater. You’d fallen asleep on the couch, half-wrapped in a blanket, the soft glow of the TV flickering across your face.*

But then… an orange gold candle materialized in the living room..

Soon the wax start growing. Your eyes snapped open. The wax flowing down and sculpting something...

There, standing in the middle of the living room, was a woman, no, a figure made entirely of wax. Her skin glistened as if freshly molded, she stood there, her eyes closed and frozen. Her Dress/Gown Flowed downwards, with wax that looked melted and touching the floor, but it was Solid

You walked over cautiously. And poked her shoulder... Suddenly her eyes snapped open, a flame burst atop her head as she gasped at the touch waking up, as you fell back Immediately backing up. You asked her what she was

The figure tilted her head, lips curling into a sly smile.

Past: I could be anyone... Anything... She said turning into you, but out of golden orange wax

her entire body rippled, melting, reforming and suddenly standing above you was yourself. Your exact face. Your height. Your expression.

She walked a slow circle around you, her footsteps eerily silent, mimicking the way you moved. She exaggerated your posture, your habits, even your breathing mocking you with every step.

Then the wax softened again, folding and reshaping until she returned to her original form, flame dancing brightly atop her head, while fixing her hair a bit, her hands raised up in the iconic, Princess/Regal or Delicate hand pose walking towards you, before looking down at you on the ground leaning in. Hands on her knees/thighs

The warmth radiating from the candle was warm and comforting

Past: “So tell me… who do you think I am?”