Online Psychic

I connected with Eric Tingey, a recently famous writer with a massive fanbase, during a live fortune-telling session.

He grinned at me, his voice warm. "Young lady, why are you scamming people online at such a tender age?"

I frowned. "Scamming? Are you talking about yourself?"

Eric's face shifted, and he coughed theatrically. The live chat erupted, hurling insults at me.

"Stupid liar! Who are you calling a scammer? Mr. Tingey's a philanthropist who's done tons of charity!"

I smiled, locking eyes with Eric. "You've got blood on your hands, don't you? More than one life. Tomorrow, the thirtieth, when the gates of the underworld open, they'll come for you."

1

I was Georgia Arnold, the eighty-seventh disciple of the Celestial Office.

The Celestial Office had been struggling financially, but the livestreaming industry was booming. My TikTok-obsessed master had a sudden epiphany and decided I should start livestreaming fortune-telling.

I protested. "Why me?"

My master smacked my head, pointing at my scruffy-bearded senior brothers. "Isn't it obvious? You've got the best look!"

Under my master's tyranny, I reluctantly started streaming.

At first, the live room was nearly empty. A few people trickled in, asking about their fortunes, and I answered patiently. Gradually, the audience grew.

Naturally, so did the number of people calling me a fraud and accusing me of deception.

I kept smiling. "Face-reading is more accurate."

Someone, eager to challenge me, applied to connect live. "This better be legit! Tell me about my love life!"

I studied his face for a moment. "Sir, your current relationship isn't your true match."

He exploded. "What nonsense! My girlfriend and I are madly in love! I do everything for her, and she's sweet and caring! How is she not my true match?"

"She's using you. You're just a backup," I said, cutting through his delusion.

Before he could retort, his phone rang. It was his girlfriend.

He smirked, triumphant. "Watch how much my girlfriend loves me!" He put the call on speaker.

Before he could speak, his girlfriend's voice rang out. "We're done. I'm sick of you buzzing around me like a fly. My dad set me up with someone way richer. Don't contact me again."

She hung up.

The man stood frozen, stunned. The chat exploded with laughter.

"What a simp! Hahahahaha!"

"Too funny! She exposed him in seconds. Is this streamer for real?"

"Talk about a slap in the face! Hahahaha!"

The chat went wild. I calmly disconnected the call and asked, "Anyone else want to try?"

2

The screen flickered, and I connected with Eric, the writer who had just released a bestselling book.

Eric, in his forties, had a kind, fatherly appearance. Seeing I was young, he adopted a patronizing tone. "Young lady, why are you scamming people online? Don't your parents care?"

I frowned, studying his face, irritation rising. "Scamming? Are you talking about yourself?"

Eric's expression darkened. He coughed dramatically again. His fans, flooding into my live room, unleashed a barrage of attacks.

"Laughable! Accusing Mr. Tingey of scamming? Do you know how much charity he's done?"

"Pathetic liar! Pretending to be some celestial master? Does the Celestial Office even accept women? Just stick to being a pretty face, okay? You think you can read fortunes?"

The chat scrolled so fast it hurt my eyes. Eric, seemingly pleased, made a half-hearted attempt to calm his fans.

"Everyone, stay rational. No need for cyberbullying. She's just a kid. We can forgive her mistakes. Young lady, are your parents neglecting you? Is that why you're out here scamming? After the stream, reach out to me. I can sponsor you."

Eric's gaze felt slimy, making my skin crawl.

I considered ending the connection, but something in his eyes stopped me. I spoke calmly. "Mr. Tingey, you've got blood on your hands. More than one life."

The live room exploded.

The attacks intensified. Even those who had supported me thought I had gone too far.

"Are you joking? Accusing someone of murder without proof? Mr. Tingey could sue you for slander!"

"When Mr. Tingey's dog died, he cried for three days. Someone that kind wouldn't kill. Is your brain fried?"

"She's just riding Mr. Tingey's fame to go viral. Making up ridiculous stories!"

The chat went berserk. No one noticed Eric's face growing paler.

"Tomorrow when the gates of the underworld open, they'll come for you," I added, watching Eric's reaction with interest.

It was the twenty-ninth today.

Eric's face was ashen, his eyes flickering with dark lines, a clear sign of death.

The vengeful spirits haunting him had been at it for a while. I doubted he was unaware.

Eric's eyes darted in panic, his voice stammering. "What are you talking about? What full moon? What revenge? It's the twenty-first century! Stop spreading nonsense. I haven't killed anyone!"

His fans, emboldened by his denial, launched another wave of attacks in the chat.

So stubborn?

I touched the ancient bronze coin tied to my wrist with red thread and spoke slowly. "Haven't you noticed anything strange lately? Like a flowerpot nearly hitting you when you left your house? Or a car almost running you over while crossing the street?"

Eric's face grew uglier.

Someone in the chat spoke up.

"Holy crap, she's right! Mr. Tingey's daily X posts mentioned those exact incidents!"

"Are you dumb? Maybe this scammer just stalked his X account!"

The chat descended into chaos. I continued, unhurried. "Mr. Tingey, beyond that, you haven't been sleeping well, have you? Nightmares plague you, but you can't wake up, right? Haven't you felt something lurking by your bed?"

Eric flinched, his face twitching with fear. He forced himself to stay calm, but his voice cracked. "No! Nothing! I feel great! Eating well, sleeping well! Nothing's wrong!"

Still denying it?

Fine. Fate decides life and death. Everyone reaps what they sow.

I glanced at the darkening night outside and yawned. "Whatever. I'm signing off, everyone. Mr. Tingey, one last tip. Tonight, at midnight, look in your bathroom mirror. You'll see your ashen face and the dark lines in your eyes, a sign of death. Also, lie in bed and pretend to sleep. At 3 a.m., whatever's by your bed will reveal itself. You'll see what it is."

As if on cue, the door in Eric's room creaked open. A faint, eerie wail, like an infant's cry, drifted in.

Eric glanced back, terrified, knocking over his chair. He lunged at the desk, clutching his computer, his face ghostly white. "Master, save me! I..."

I yawned again, glancing at Eric and the frenzied chat.

Then I ended the stream.

I was exhausted.

When I looked up, my white-haired master grinned at me. "My dear disciple, how much did we earn today?"

I glanced at the pitiful gift interface, barely sprinkled with a few flowers, then at my master's hopeful face. I turned to slip away.

My master grabbed my robe, his voice dripping with menace. "Georgia, the fate of the Celestial Office rests in your hands."

"Yes, yes, yes!" I said, nodding frantically, winking at him.

"Master, don't worry. I just landed a big deal!"

3

The next evening, as soon as I went online, I noticed Eric had sent me countless private messages the previous midnight.

There were too many to bother reading. I started the stream, and Eric immediately joined my live room.

Dark circles shadowed his eyes, his face gaunt and haggard, clearly from a sleepless night.

Gone was yesterday's arrogance. The moment he saw me, he clung to me like a lifeline, his voice frantic. "Master, please save me! Last night, I saw a baby by my bed! A skinless baby! It was licking my face! Blood everywhere! So much blood! And a woman! No hands, no legs! She stood by my bed, staring at me! Not saying a word!"

Eric's face twisted in terror, his muscles twitching uncontrollably, his bloodshot eyes wide, his throat making choked, guttural sounds from sheer fear.

The chat fell silent for a moment, then exploded.

"What the hell? Is this streamer girl actually telling the truth? Does Mr. Tingey really have blood on his hands?"

"I've said it before, his face never looked trustworthy. Maybe he did kill someone. His wife, whose body was never found, might've been his victim!"

"Bro what are you blabbing about? Haven't you seen all the charity Mr. Tingey's done? This could just be a staged act between him and the streamer!"

I glanced at Eric.

Deathly energy swirled around his face, but it hadn't yet reached the crown of his head. He still had a slim chance to survive.

"Do you know who that baby and woman are?" I asked.

Eric froze, his eyes darting away, his voice unnatural. "How would I know?"

I gave him a half-smile, studying him for a moment. "Fine, I can help you, but you have to tell me everything you know. No holding back."

Eric hesitated, his face ghostly pale, before muttering, "I didn't kill anyone... I didn't kill anyone... Two years ago, my wife and I went on a road trip. In the mountains, our car broke down, and we got stranded.

At first, we thought it was just a minor accident. We laughed and chatted, but after a week, our food and water were nearly gone. Our phones had no signal. That's when we started to panic.

A few days later, we ran out of food completely. No water left either. I decided to abandon the car and see if I could walk out of the forest.

My wife was too weak by then! I didn't mean to leave her! If I hadn't, neither of us would've survived!

I don't know how long I walked, but I finally found a rescue team. The moment I saw them, I begged them to save my wife, but... but they couldn't find her. Not even her body!"

On the screen, Eric seemed to break down, covering his face and sobbing. "Later, after I recovered and left the hospital, I was sorting through my wife's things. That's when I found out... I found out... She was pregnant! I'm a monster! How could I leave her there alone?"

Eric wailed, pounding the desk, consumed by regret.

"Hang on, didn't Eric say something different in his interview back then? I remember him saying his wife insisted he go ahead, that she wanted him to survive!"

"Does anyone recall Eric's new book? The one about a couple stranded in the wilderness? What if it's based on him and his wife? That's chilling!"

"Who knows if Eric's telling the truth? He was the only survivor. What if he's hiding something?"

The chat scrolled furiously. Eric's face grew more grotesque with fear.

Suddenly, the pale light in his room flickered. The doorknob creaked as it turned, and a hollow, soft female voice echoed. "Honey, I'm back!"