Lori and the Fortune Teller 2nd draft

Today you find yourself headed to an address you’ve never been to before.
Lori had written to you on chattrBox inviting you to a location just a few blocks from your own house.
As mysterious and vague as it was, being surprised by Lori intrigued you enough to go along with it.
You travel a fairly lonely street with trees to either side, and you realize that it’s not far from the road you take every day.
You stop at the corner she specified, not yet seeing anything interesting- just a fence surrounding a seemingly empty field.
As you're looking around for her, you suddenly feel something hit your back.
Your heart leaps as instinctual fear kicks in and you spin around.
Turns out Lori decided to give you a hug from behind. You breathe a sigh of relief.

Lori: Hey, (player), you came! Did I scare you?

She smiles playfully so you smile back.

player: Sure did. What are we doing here?

Lori: I thought you’d like to go to the Supernatural Lovers’ Club meeting today!

player: The what?

Lori: Oh, I guess you haven’t heard of them. They’re basically everybody in town who’s into ghosts and cryptids and stuff.

player: Ah, I guess that’s kinda obvious, now that you explain it.

Lori: Yeah, it’s kinda in their name, haha.

player: …You say they’re… having a meeting?

Lori: Oh yeah, The Possum Springs Historical Society helps them, I guess they think it’s okay to indulge them.
‘Cause dead people are history, right?

player: Haha, right.

Lori: So they hold their annual meeting in front of the Historical Society’s headquarters. You’ll love it there.

player: Oh yeah?

Lori: It’s a spooky old house, called the Shreigeist House.

player: Seriously? That sounds exactly like a portmanteau of “shriek” and “poltergeist”.

Lori: I know, right? Like some kind of bad goth metal band name.
It’s beautiful and it’s old and it’s creepy. I love it.
Just follow me, it’s right around the corner from here.

You push your bike along with you as Lori starts walking.

player: We’re actually not too far from my house.

Lori: Oh cool! Yeah, this is the part of town where the old rich people houses were all built back in the day.

player: So what do they do at this meeting?

Lori: They sell books, give out pamphlets, display their findings, that sort of thing.
Then they all get together and discuss all the cool ghost stuff they did the previous year.

player: You don’t have to be a member to attend?

Lori: Nope! It’s all free.

Lori points out the house up ahead. It’s a tall, slim house in a stark Neo-Gothic style in the middle of a field with a few ghastly-looking dead trees around it.
It definitely looks haunted.
There are signs of life, however, and a small crowd is in its front yard, moving from one tiny booth to another.

Lori: We’re here! Isn’t it cool?
I wish I could live here and stare out into the night sky as passersby see me and run away terrified.

player: Your tattered silken dress flowing in the wind?

Lori: Exactly.

You park your bike near the entrance, as Lori excitedly jogs into the event area without waiting for you.
You hurry after her, surrounded by about a dozen or so awnings and tables filled with ghost-related miscellany.
You see books like “Ghosts of Possum Springs” and “Ghost Sightings in Bright Harbor” and exhibits of what ectoplasm may be made of, as well as handmade wooden dolls labeled “Little Joe”.

player: So… what do you want to do first?

Lori: Oh, I dunno! There’s so many cool things to do.
Hmm… well, what catches your eye, (player)?

Your turn to look at the wooden doll collection.

player: I dunno. Who’s this “Little Joe”?

Lori: Oh he’s our local legend!
He was a miner like a hundred years ago and he’s rumored to still haunt the town.
Mostly the cemetery.

player: Oh wow, I didn’t know you had a cemetery.

Lori: Yeah, and it’s awesome!
It’s really old, like almost as old as the town itself.

The person manning the booth sits up straight and grabs your attention.

Raccoon: Were you interested in hearing some facts about the cemetery?

player: Oh uh, sure, I guess so.
player: Why not?

The raccoon sighs and pulls out a pamphlet.

Raccoon: “…Possum Springs Cemetery is the largest in Deep Hollow County.”
“The oldest graves date back to when Possum Springs was still primarily a mining town.”
“The most famous resident of the cemetery is Joe Shade, better known as Little Joe, whose spirit is rumored to…”
Your back is slumping and your eyelids flutter, trying to focus on what he’s saying.
His dry recitation is starting to make you as bored as he is, despite your interest in the subject.
He rattles off several other factoids for the next two minutes.

Raccoon: We have a petition to convince the City Council to restore the cemetery.
Many of the older gravestones are damaged from neglect and vandalism.
Not to mention the sinkholes.
Will you sign it?

player: Um…

Raccoon: Please, just sign it. I haven’t done anything all day except sit here and sell these dolls to little kids.

Lori: Hey, I was gonna do it!
It’s a crying shame the way some people don’t respect the dead.

Lori grabs the clipboard in front of the raccoon and hastily signs it.

Lori: If you gotta vandalize something, you oughta do it to make a statement about something, not just for kicks.

Lori hands the clipboard to you unprompted, and you sign it as well.

player: I can’t imagine who would want to wreck a cemetery…

Lori: Some people suck!

player: Aw, lemme cheer you up- how about I buy you one of these dolls?
You can add it to your collection.

Lori: Aw, thanks! These are actually kinda cute.

player: Do these actually look like the real Little Joe at all?

Lori: No idea, but I doubt it. I don’t think anybody alive ever had empty eye sockets like that.

You chuckle as you pick up one of the dolls, which has a ghastly-looking expression and a green complexion.
You ask how much it costs and the raccoon says it’s ten dollars.
You’re not sure if that’s cheap or expensive for a small handmade doll, but you can spare it.

Raccoon: Thanks. My great aunt makes these for kids, mostly.

Lori: Well, tell your great aunt they’re very cute.

Raccoon: …
…Meh.

You ignore his reaction as Lori takes the doll and lovingly puts it in her hoodie pocket.
Suddenly you hear the voice of somebody talking through a megaphone.

Lori: Hey, I think the actual meeting is starting! Let’s go!

A small crowd gathers and takes their seats in folding chairs, while a projector and a podium is hastily set up under a tent.
A man wearing old-timey garb and a handlebar mustache, presumably the president of the club, clears his throat.

Man: Yes, and welcome to the 14th annual Supernatural Lovers’ Club meeting, ladies and gentlemen.
This evening we hope to enlighten and entertain you with our findings and discoveries.
First up, we have Mrs. Hildegard.

A woman stands up and carries an easel with a painting in it, and places it in front of the audience.
The painting is of a fearsome looking man with a bizarrely, unnaturally red face like cinnamon candy, staring intensely at the viewer.
Mrs. Hildegard describes how a friend of hers was renovating her house and discovered the painting inside the basement wall.
After that, her friend experienced strange noises in her house and doors mysteriously opening and shutting when they weren’t looking.
She decided she had enough when one night the man in the painting appeared to be standing at the foot of her bed and staring at her, before fading away as soon as she sat up.
Mrs. Hildegard, being a collector of allegedly haunted objects, offered to take the painting away and the ghost along with it.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on your point of view, the ghost hasn’t been seen haunting Mrs. Hildegard’s house since then.

The next speaker had an even stranger artifact: A VCR with a Ouija board hastily scrawled onto the top of it.
The VCR had been found in a long-abandoned house with no explanation for it being there. It didn’t have a tape inside it, either.
The speaker explains that they had spent a night watching horror movies with the VCR, and even tried contacting spirits with the Ouija board, but nothing happened.

Lori: Oh god, I want it. I wish we had used *that* VCR to watch movies the other night!

The meeting then concludes with the host presenting an actual vintage theremin, and invites anyone to play with it.
As soon as the president demonstrates how it works, a group of kids run up to it, only to discover that they’re too short for it, and need to ask their parents to lift them up.
The next few minutes consist of random squeals and squelches coming from the theremin.

You and Lori get up, not having any particular place to go.

player: So now what? We still have all day.

Lori: Oh man, lemme think…
Oh yeah! There’s this fortune teller that’s here every year, I’ve always wanted to see her!

player: Really? They still have those?

Lori: Oh, totally. I guess it’s kind of a quaint, niche kind of thing these days, but there’s still people who do it.
I mean, most of ‘em do it over the phone nowadays, but there’s nothing quite visiting them in the flesh.
She used to have an “office”, I guess you could call it, like just past my neighborhood, but I guess she’s in semi-retirement now?

player: What, she actually had a permanent place of business?

Lori: Yeah, they exist. But I guess they don’t always rake in the cash, huh?
But I think she enjoys doing it, so she’s kinda always here every year. Like, they expect her to be there.
So, you up to it?

player: I guess so.
player: What have I got to lose?

You only have to walk a couple of feet and you can see the fortune teller’s tent just ahead.

player: Do you believe in this stuff?

Lori: Not really. I mean, I believe in an afterlife and all that, but most of these fortune tellers are fake.
Props and special effects and all that.

player: So why do you want to talk to one?

Lori: It’s fun! Knowing how they do it makes it entertaining. There’s a whole psychological element to it that I like.
They also pay attention to what you’re wearing, and stuff like what food stains are on your shirt, and they’re really good at guessing your life story.
It goes way back. Like, did you know that Arthur Conan Dove was really into it? Like, he totally believed it?

player: The guy who invented Sherlock Hound? Why would he believe in fortune telling?

Lori: Nobody knows! But he completely believed in ghosts and everything.
Goes to show that even the smartest people can be fooled by someone just as clever.
Some people believe that some sort of supernatural being, like a ghost speaking beyond the grave or a spirit, can solve all their problems.
Even someone who ought to know otherwise.
I *wish* I could call on a ghost to solve my problems.
…Sorry, I get excited about this stuff.

player: No problem.

The tent is made up of fabrics of deep purple and blue, decorated with sparkling silver stars. Just next to it is a hand-painted sign, with curly, elaborate lettering that spells “Madame Spectre” with a outstretched palm underneath.
Surely that’s not her real name.
Inside the tent is an elderly vixen with gleaming green eyes- they’re in fact the first thing you see entering, as if there was a spotlight on them, and there probably was.
There must have been some sort of fancy motion-activated dimming light somewhere, because the light slowly increases and makes the fortune-teller’s face more visible.

Lori leans over and whispers in your ear.

Lori: Ooh, nice effect…

With an intense gaze befitting her occupation, the woman speaks with a creaky and low voice.

Madame Spectre: Welcome, weary travelers, and learn what you must!

It’s all a bit hokey, but you’re thankful she didn’t opt to put on a fake accent, at least.

She’s somewhat haggard with wrinkles around her eyes, but she’s strangely beautiful in her own way, if you’re into that sort of thing.
You imagine that she once was the most desirable girl in her peer group.

Madame Spectre: Ah, I sense a blossoming relationship between you two, yes?

You blush involuntarily, probably giving her the answer she was looking for.

Lori: N-no, w-we’re just friends…

Madame Spectre: Call it what you will, lass, I insist that you have something special. However, that isn’t what you’re here for.
Your “friend” wonders what to expect. He is somewhat new in town, yes?

Lori whispers again.

Lori: …She probably hasn’t seen you before. Small towns are like that- everyone knows everybody.

The fortune teller raises an eyebrow.

Madame Spectre: You are skeptical, yes?

Lori giggles.

Lori: Yeah, you caught us.

Madame Spectre: Please, sit, and doubt no longer!

You obey and sit cross-legged on a pair of thick faux-velvet cushions. The scent of incense nearby reaches your nostrils.
The woman raises her hands, tipped with bright red nails, and shifts her gaze towards the crystal ball sitting on the table.
Her shoulders are held high, fingers delicately caressing the air around the sphere.
You resist giving a dismissive snort.
The fortune teller turns her eyes to yours, seeming to stare into your soul, as they say.
She’s good.

Madame Spectre: You have many questions about your new life.
Where are you going? Will your friends stay with you?
Will your feelings for each other change? Do you deserve your newfound happiness?

You swallow nervously.

player: …You guessed right.
player: How’d you know?

Madame Spectre: Madame Spectre does not guess!

Lori: Aw, I didn’t realize you felt that way. Rest assured, I’m sticking with you!

The fox then turns to Lori.

Madame Spectre: You, however, are certain of who you are and where you’re headed in life. But you are also fascinated by death and the unknown, which is why you came here.

Lori: That’s what you’re supposed to do, right? Reveal the secrets of that stuff?

Madame Spectre: Indeed.

Lori: So… are there any real ghosts in Possum Springs?

Madame Spectre: There have been many tragic and mysterious deaths in this town. Some of them have left a lingering presence.

player: …That’s a little ambiguous, don’t you think?
player: I’m not sure what you mean.

Madame Spectre: Surely you know the lasting effects the dead can hold over the living?

player: Well yeah, but…

Madame Spectre: Ah, it’s becoming clear to me now… you have experienced death in your family, have you not?

You’re starting to feel a little invaded.

player: Alright, I’ll give you that much.
player: That’s true, but c’mon…

Madame Spectre: And it had effected you greatly.

player: …That’s something you can say about anyone.
player: Well, yeah!

Lori: Oh don’t be mad, (player), it’s her job.

Madame Spectre: It is my duty!

You’re starting to feel a little impatient, but you don’t want to be rude, so you try to tamp down your annoyance.

Madame Spectre: Forgive my insensitivity, it was not intentional. I just tell what the crystal ball shows me.

Lori: I didn’t know someone in your family died. Who was it?

player: Can we talk about it later…?

Lori: Oh, sorry, sorry!

Madame Spectre: Another time perhaps.

Lori: Okay, but, uh… you didn’t really answer my question about ghosts.

Madame Spectre: It depends on what you mean by “ghosts”.
We can say that we are “haunted” by memories of the past.
Death alters our lives forever, sometimes changing one’s course completely, separating ourselves from some, reuniting others, and even crossing new paths with new people.
But obviously you’re being more literal than that.
Look around you! Everyone here believes in ghosts.
They all have stories to tell of things they can’t explain, presences they’ve felt, feelings of dread and horror.
What is a ghost but the remainder of someone’s lost life? It could very well be a wandering soul departed from the mortal plane…
Or it could be an image of the energies of our bodies reflected off the mirrors of the physical realm, embedded in the walls, and in the bricks, and in the trees.

Lori seems enraptured.

Madame Spectre: Either way, we find ourselves striving to understand them.

player: …But do we have anything like that here in Possum Springs?

Madame Spectre: Of course.

Her lids lower, almost shutting, her vision seeming to become unfocused.

Madame Spectre: The whole town in engulfed by the presence of death. Perhaps not individuals, but it holds a power over everyone.

Lori: Damn.

Madame Spectre: But it needn’t be this way. There have been too many sacrifices made.

player: Sacrifices?

She seems to stare into space.

Madame Spectre: The poor needn’t die to feed the rich! The dead have no money.

player: …What?

Madame Spectre: The entrance is closed now, it cannot be fed any longer.

You’re starting to feel uncomfortable, especially now that her head is loosely rolling around her shoulders.

Madame Spectre: …The cycle has ended.

Lori stares at her, enchanted. The fortune teller blinks and straightens herself.

Madame Spectre: …Mmmgh… I’m sorry, I was receiving feedback from the vibrations of this place, and I became it’s mouthpiece.

player: …So you’re done?

Madame Spectre: Yes, I’m finished. I’m sorry you don’t believe me.
Is there anything else you wish to know?

player: Not really.

Very well. That will be five dollars.

You grumble quietly to yourself, and almost reach for your wallet, but Lori gestures to you and pulls out a bill instead.

Lori: Thank you, that was very, very interesting!

Madame Spectre: Did I at least give you food for thought?

Lori: Yes, yes you did. Thank you.

player: Sorry if I seem grouchy, I was just caught off guard.

You both stand up and exit the tent.


As you walk away, you’re both silent for a moment.

player: …I gotta say, that was some display.

Lori: Aw, don’t be so disappointed, she just made educated guesses about your family.

player: …I wish you had heard that from me first.

Lori: Sorry, sorry, I never thought…
…Well you weren’t exactly being super nice!

player: Yeah, that’s my fault, sorry.

Lori: Do you want to talk about it…?

You think for a bit.

player: Might as well, I guess.
It was my dad. He died a few years ago.

Lori: Oh crap, sorry.

player: No, it’s okay, really. I barely knew him. He actually left me the house.

Lori: That’s actually kinda cool.

player: Yeah.

Lori: I know how it is. My mom died when I was younger. Do you miss him at all?

player: Hmm. Not really. Weirdly enough.
Lori: Why not?

player: I barely knew anything about him. It’s hard to grieve somebody you almost never met.

Lori: Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Sorta sad, though.

player: Sad how?

Lori: It’s sort of sad, in a weird way, that his death didn’t make *you* sad.

player: I dunno, in a bizarre way, I’m lucky? Nobody in my life who’s died is somebody I’ll ever miss.

Lori: That’s somehow both a bummer and a blessing.

player: Do you ever miss your mom?

Lori: Totally. She was always supportive of me wanting to make movies, and never complained about all the dark stuff I’m into.

player: I envy you. We should all have parents who accept you.

Lori: Oh crap, don’t tell me your mom didn’t…

player: No. I’m glad I got away from her.

Lori: Ouch. Sorry I brought it up.

You decide to change the subject.

player: So what was all that about death being all over town?

Lori: No idea, really.
It’s like… it’s like…
…Things’ll be fine. There’s gonna be new jobs, better pay.
The younger generation won’t have to support the greed of old fogies.

player: What? How do you know?

Lori: …Huh? Oh, I dunno. Just a feeling, I guess.
And I get the feeling you won’t lose your friends, either.

player: …Do you think so?
What about us? Was she right at all?

Her eyelids lower and she smiles softly, and reaches out to hold your hand.
With that answer you smile back, and you both walk to the next booth to see what else the meeting has to offer.