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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
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