I never asked to know about things before they were going to happen. I didn't want to know when people were going to die.
Death, though, has its own way of doing things.
It all started when I was browsing a part of the internet I shouldn't have been, and stumbled upon a ritual. All it needed was a couple of candles, a knife, and some of my blood and I would be able to predict the future. It warned that the future couldn't be changed, but what the hell did I care, really. I was going to make a fortune.
The ritual went perfectly. Well, almost. I was never good with pain, nor the sight of blood. That being said, I wanted to get it over with quickly. Too quickly.
I cut fast and deep into my wrist. As I lay bleeding out, a hooded figure appeared before me. Death.
He told me that in exchange for a few years of torture, I could continue living. My torture would be knowing when people I come into contact with in any way are going to die. I won't, however, be able to stop it. If I try to, I will die.
I watched helplessly as my mother, brother, and wife died and there wasn't a thing I could do about it.
I saw it all, perfectly, before it ever even happened. Weeks before.
I'm hiding this message here. Hopefully he won't notice until it's too late...for him.
I've been editing for a while here. I really care about my editors.
I need someone to send a message for me.
One of our editors is going to die.
Someone tell <insert name here> not to go outside for a while.
Written by ClericofMadness