Disclaimer: Below is a recent news story taken down by The Voice for “auspicious” reasons. The writer and IHS Voice take no responsibility for possible injuries, paranormal events, or consequences that may arise. Read at your own risk.
Creaakkkk, step. Creaakkkk, step.
Sol Gal-Ible crept through the dark corridor, footsteps muffled by the loud, ferocious creaking of the aged floorboards. She gazed around at the weirdly shaped picture frames hung on the wall. Her eyes landed on what looked like a vintage bottle of something called “special sauce” carefully placed in a golden frame. Her whole body shivered at the sight of it. Gross.
Sol clutched her phone to her chest, glancing at the Google Maps directions as she continued down the corridor. In 100 feet, your destination is on your right.
“Thank goodness,” she breathed. She did not want to be in the depths of the dark corridor any longer. The possibilities of a murder or an assassin creeping up on her were very high. Perhaps…it was not a good idea to watch true crime right before entering a sketchy fortune-telling shop. She was hyperaware of every sound, every floorboard, every breath. Sol’s thoughts got the better of her; she quickened her steps, and before she knew it, she was running down the corridor. The relief she felt when the silhouette of a door came up on her right was unimaginable.
On the door hung a sign: Visit world-renowned fortune teller Aud Spyshush to see your future! She opened the door and walked straight into someone. She looked up and saw a pair of brown eyes. Sol Gal-Ible froze.
“You must be a customer,” the woman said joyfully. “Come in!” Sol came back to her senses and followed the women inside. Yep, just follow a stranger into their home; great idea.
The woman led her to a hot pink couch and told her to make herself comfortable. Sol took this chance to glance around the room. It wasn’t a very big room, but there were tall book shelves filled to the brim with “special sauce.”
“Do you also like special sauce?” a voice came from her left. Before Sol could respond, the woman continued. “You must be here for answers. Tell me, what is it that you seek?”
“A YouTube video showed me you can see the future,” Sol said, showing Madam Spyshush the video she was watching before she decided to risk her life and enter a sketchy corridor that led to a room WAY too colorful for its own good. Nope, not weird at all. Totally normal. (Yep, just keep telling yourself that).
“Oh, you saw the ad! I mean, you should have; I spent a fortune on it. Anyway, you came to the right place. Let’s get started right away!”
“Great, what do I ne—”
“Shhhhhh,” Madam Spyshush said, holding a finger to her mouth and closing her eyes. “I need to concentrate.” She was sitting with one leg over the other and a hand resting on each knee, which should be physically impossible.
“Do you not need a crystal ball?” Sol asked.
“Shhhhhhh, I need silence,” Madam Spyshush hushed. “…funds are a little low, but since I am the amazing Aud Spyshush, I do not need a crystal ball. What I need is silence!”
The two of them sat in silence for a while, a very long while.
“I see something! I have gained access to a vision of your future! Oh and it is a very bright one.”
“Really?” Surprised, Sol sat up straighter. “Tell me more.”
“The world that awaits you 25 years from now is very advanced. You are a millionaire, CEO of the company that you started with your best friend in college. The world has developed, with flying cars and air apartments.”
“I am a millionaire? That seems hard to believe. I thought I was going to live as a socially awkward, orange-loving introvert until I die,” Sol Gal-Ible said, skeptical.
“No, no, that doesn’t change; you’re still a socially awkward introvert, but you hate oranges. Something about them being too orangey.”
“HAH! I knew they were too orangey! They’ve been manipulating me my entire life.”
“Although, I sense multiple challenges to that future. If you wish to finally get restful sleep, you must provide a sacrifice to the sleep gods. In addition, before bed you must eat a table of ‘special sauce.’ They sell for $45 each; you may purchase on your way out,” Madam Spyshush said in concentration. “Your future is giving warnings. The first one is that you must dance to ‘Cotton Eye Joe’ before each fourth period.”
“Uhhh…I don’t really know if that is a good idea. I’m not a very good dancer,” Sol remarked.
“Oh, but you must, or the consequences that you will encounter will be far, far, far worse.” Suddenly, Madam Spyshush started waving her hands around an imaginary crystal ball. “I sense…a presence. You are in high school, right? Irvington?” Sol nodded. The air around Madam Spyshush had changed; when she spoke again, there was a hint of panic in her voice. “Please tell me you read The Voice?”
“Yes, I do read it sometimes…why?”
“Whatever you do, you must continue to read it. Absolutely no procrastinating. The spirits have spoken; if you continue to neglect your civil duty to read The Voice, The Void will come for you, engulf you whole and send Voice alumni to plague your dreams for as long as you live. There is no escaping this fate, as you have already angered the spirits; they send this message as a final warning. Now that your fortune has been told to you. I expect to see the correct payment in my account by Monday.”
“How much do I owe you? Honestly I’d pay you any amount for the enlightenment you have given me. So how much? 100? 200?”
“One million carrots.”
