The Fortune Teller

The broken down buildings were part of the beauty of Winston, and with the rain pattern distributed unevenly, Jack was afraid he might be caught off-guard when it downpours. Jack, after a strong coffee, was up and running in no time, even though last night was sleepless. Those were the traits of a passionate journalist.

He wandered around the fair, looking for anything that might catch his eye. He saw a variety of attractions: games, rides, shows, and more. He noticed that some of them had a dark twist to them, such as a haunted house, a freak show, and a fortune teller.

Jack felt a shiver run down his spine as he passed by these attractions. He sensed that there was more to them than met the eye. He wondered if they were somehow connected to the town's history.

He decided to investigate further, hoping to find some clues. He approached one of the attractions that intrigued him: a fortune teller. The sign above the entrance read "Madame Zara: The Seer of Secrets! She Knows Your Past, Present, and Future!"

Jack felt a surge of curiosity as he entered the tent. He paid a small fee to the ticket taker, who gave him a mysterious smile.

"Welcome," she said in a husky voice. "Madame Zara awaits you."

Jack nodded nervously and walked into the dimly lit interior. He saw a round table covered with a purple cloth, where a woman sat behind a crystal ball. She wore a colorful scarf around her head, large earrings, and a flowing dress. Her eyes were dark and piercing, as if she could see right through him.

"Hello," she greeted him, her voice low and soothing. "I've been expecting you."

"You have?" Jack asked, feeling a twinge of unease.

"Of course," she said, gesturing for him to sit down. "You are Jack, the journalist who came to Winston looking for answers."

Jack felt a jolt of surprise. How did she know his name and his purpose?

"How did you know that?" he asked, his curiosity overcoming his wariness.

"I know many things," she said cryptically. "Things that others don't. Things that you need to know."

"Like what?" Jack asked, leaning forward.

"Like your fate," she said, her eyes gleaming. "Do you want to know what awaits you?"

Jack hesitated. He didn't believe in fortune telling or any other form of divination. He trusted facts and logic, not superstition and intuition.

But he couldn't deny that he was intrigued by her offer. Maybe she could tell him something useful, something that would help him make sense of Winston's mysteries.

Or maybe she was just another fraud, trying to scam him out of his money.

He decided to take a chance and see what she had to say.

"Sure," he said cautiously. "Tell me my fate."

She smiled, revealing a row of crooked teeth. She reached for his hand and placed it on the crystal ball.

"Close your eyes," she instructed him. "And open your mind."

Jack did as he was told, feeling a slight tingling sensation in his palm.

He heard her voice in his ear, whispering words that chilled him to the bone.

"You will die," she said softly. "A gruesome death, not so long after tonight."

"What kind of sick joke is this?" he demanded, his voice rising. "You're trying to scare me, aren't you? Well, it won't work. I don't believe in this nonsense."

The fortune teller shook her head, her expression solemn. "I'm not joking, Mr. Journalist. I'm telling you the truth. The cards don't lie."

She reached for a deck of tarot cards on the table and shuffled them. She laid out three cards in front of him.

"Look," she said, pointing to the first card. "This is the past. The Tower. It means sudden change, upheaval, chaos. It represents your arrival in Winston, and the disruption you caused by digging into the town's secrets."

She moved to the second card. "This is the present. The Moon. It means illusion, deception, fear. It represents the darkness that surrounds you, and the lies that cloud your vision. You think you know the truth, but you don't."

She moved to the third card. "And this is the future. The Death. It means transformation, endings, rebirth. It represents your fate, Mr. Journalist. You will die tonight, and your death will change everything."

Jack felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead as he stared at the cards. He felt a pang of fear, despite his rational mind telling him that it was all a hoax.

"Enough," he said, standing up abruptly. "I've had enough of your games. You're a fraud, and a cruel one at that."

He turned to leave, but the fortune teller's voice stopped him.

"Wait," she said urgently. "There's something else you need to know."

Jack paused, feeling a twinge of curiosity.

"What?" he asked impatiently.

The fortune teller looked at him with a grave expression.

"The mine," she said softly. "Don't go near it."

Jack felt a jolt of surprise. How did she know about the mine?

"What do you know about the mine?" he asked, his interest piqued.

The fortune teller shook her head.

"I can't tell you," she said mysteriously. "But I can warn you. The mine is a dangerous place, especially on a moonless night like this one. There are things that lurk there that you can't imagine. Things that will kill you if you get too close."

Jack felt a surge of frustration and skepticism.

"Things like what?" he pressed.

The fortune teller looked at him with pity.

"Money can only get you so many answers." She said, gesturing him to leave. Jack was perplexed at first, not knowing what to do. he was hungry for adventure, not death. And now, it was hard for him to decide whether to heed her warning and continue his quest in the safety of the town border, or think it as another townsfolk trying to stop him from uncovering the secrets.

"Money can only get me so many answers, huh?" Jack mused.

But in the end, Jack chose the latter.