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I just wanted to pay my bills, keep the fridge stocked, and stay in the only home I've ever known.
So, I started a business as a psychic medium. It was fake, of course. I don't believe in any of it. But my parents did. They used to host séances and coffee readings, and I watched them enough to mimic the act.
It worked... for a while.
Then the shadows started lingering too long.
The whispers got closer.
Clients began having... accidents.
And the imaginary friend who comforted me as a child, the one who grew up with me in dreams, showed up.
His name is Phil Spiers. And he isn't imaginary anymore.
He says I'm in trouble with the spirit world.
And I think he might be the only one who can save me -- if I don't unravel first.
*Please read with caution. This story contains adult themes, including graphic violence, death, and is not suitable for minors.*
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