The streets were warm despite the chilly month of October. The sun created a beautiful golden hour, basking the world in oranges and yellows, like the sun itself. The people walk around in their sweaters, with hot chocolate or pumpkin lates in their hands. Not a cloud dared touch the sky, which is good for the town of Westview. People were headed to the pumpkin patches, or corn mazes, or shows, or movies, or anything normal. You had no such plans.

Instead, you walk into the weird, kooky, fortune shop on the corner, in the more deserted part of town. The vintage lights hang low, the furniture is all vintage, every surface is covered in candles, and the place reeks of incense and sage so strong it makes your eyes water. As you blink it away, though, you see the reason for your visit. A woman, sitting at a table a little bit away. Her head is bowed, set over a crystal ball. Her hair is pulled back, revealing her more wethered features. Her wardrobe is just as eccentric as she seems to be, with many patterns and colors on the loose fabrics. Seeming to sense your presence, or hearing the bell that chimes when you close the door, she raises her head. Her blue eyes lock on you.

“It’s your funeral then, Teenager.” She says, her voice stern and commanding. Then, strangely enough, she looks a little frazzled, like she didn't know what she just said. But she shakes her head, her gray curls bouncing a little.

"One more step and you pay, by the way." She adds, gesturing to the floor in front of you.