Did you know that time stops at death?

Neither did Liam. Sure, he’d heard the bit about life flashing before your eyes, but no one warned him that time itself would screech to a halt. No pulse, no breath, just... stillness. Maybe that’s what happens when you’re no longer tethered to a body - time loses its grip on you.

And then there was that damn gypsy fortune teller and her crazy predictions.

She’d warned him, “Your destiny lies with the Ace of Spades.” At the time, it sounded like nonsense - just another scam to get a couple of bucks from tourists. He still didn’t know what it meant, but he was beginning to realize it was something much bigger than he’d imagined.

It all started that night along the Great Ocean Road, southeast of Melbourne. Liam had been riding fast, trying to outrun the frustration of an argument with his girlfriend - or fiancée, depending on who you asked. Well, ex-fiancée now. Complicated, right? But hey, relationships were never his strong suit.

The day had started out great, though - it was Sarah’s birthday, and she shared it with his favorite time of the year. Summer solstice. Down here in the southern hemisphere, they celebrated the holidays and solstice in December - no snow, but they had the surf. Liam loved it. He’d planned a full day of sun, surf, and maybe a little fine dining to top things off. It was going perfectly… until they stumbled on that beach fair. And that sign.

The sign looked like it had leapt out of a cheesy horror movie: Mysterious Madame Maev, Master Fortune Teller and Psychic. Painted in faded gold letters, it swayed ominously in the sea breeze. Sarah had spotted it immediately, her eyes lighting up as if she’d just seen Santa Claus himself.

Liam cringed inside, but he forced a smile. “Happy birthday, love,” he’d said, trying to keep the resignation out of his voice.

“You mean it? I know you don’t really believe in this sort of thing,” she’d replied, looking hopeful.

How could he say no? Next thing he knew, they were waiting in a dim parlor cluttered with knickknacks and odd trinkets, all meant to look mystical - or just overpriced. Liam couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the price tags, noting that this psychic must be making a killing. Three hundred dollars for a crystal ball? Yeah, right.

Then a chime of tinkling bells signaled the arrival of Madame Maev herself. Sarah squeaked, excitement blending with a little surprise. Liam set down the crystal ball he’d been examining, feeling an odd sense of guilt as Maev’s gaze flickered over him, a hint of knowing in her eyes.

For a “mystic,” she looked alarmingly young - early twenties, at most. A flowing black ensemble with vivid beads and a crimson scarf added to the drama, but her sharp gaze didn’t waver as she took them in. “My, my, aren’t you two the perfect couple,” she said, with a sly smile that made Liam’s skin prickle. Her gaze dropped to Sarah’s stomach before drifting back to her face. Liam frowned. What was that about?

Madame Maev wasted no time. “My rates are one hundred dollars per reading, or one-fifty for couples,” she said briskly.

Liam nearly choked. “A hundred dollars? Are you nuts?” he sputtered. But Sarah remained quiet, her hand resting thoughtfully on her stomach. The fine dining he’d planned flickered in his mind, now sacrificed to this outrageous fee. “Love, it’s alright,” he murmured, trying to keep his frustration in check. This was supposed to be her day, after all.

Before he could protest further, Madame Maev swooped in. “It’s no worry, Sarah. You’re the birthday girl, after all. I’m sure we can work something out. Right, Liam?” she added with a knowing look, taking each of them by the shoulder and ushering them through a beaded curtain before he could respond.

“How the hell does she know our names?” Liam wondered aloud as he followed.

They found themselves seated at an ornate table polished to a high gloss. Liam could see his own bewildered reflection staring back at him. Across from them, Maev looked almost serene, as if she’d been waiting for this moment.

“Listen, Miss Maev, I don’t think we’re—”

“Madame Maev,” she corrected, the words slipping out like silk.

“Right, Madame Maev. Look, a hundred dollars is, well, a bit out of my budget.” He glanced at Sarah, hoping she might back him up.

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“One-fifty,” Maev reminded him, her voice smooth as glass. “But as I said, I’m sure we can arrange something.” She looked pointedly from Sarah to him, as if daring him to understand her meaning. Liam had no clue what she was hinting at.

“I’m not sure you understand—”

“Oh, I understand perfectly, Liam,” Maev interjected, her tone sharpened to an edge. “It’s you who doesn’t understand.” With a gentle touch, she turned Sarah’s hand over, inspecting her palm.

The unease prickled up his spine. He reached out instinctively to take Sarah’s hand back, but Maev slapped his hand away, her expression unamused. “Tsk, tsk, Liam. It’s Sarah’s birthday. Let’s not ruin the moment, shall we?”

He fell back into his seat, chastised, feeling like a schoolboy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. As Maev’s gaze fixed on Sarah, the room seemed to darken around them, a gradual shadow that crept in unnoticed until it swallowed everything but their faces. A faint, unnatural light glowed around Maev’s eyes, casting an eerie aura that sent a chill crawling up his spine.

The words Maev murmured to Sarah drifted just out of reach, their voices muted and distorted as if coming from underwater. Liam squinted, trying to focus, but the room’s oppressive atmosphere was suffocating. His head began to swim, the air thick and hazy as though something was pushing down on him, squeezing until his vision blurred. The polished table beneath his palms felt icy and solid, the only anchor in a world that was quickly slipping out of his grasp.

Just as he began to lose himself in the murky haze, everything went black.

There were voices, muffled and distant, rising and falling like echoes through a long, dark corridor. After what felt like an eternity, they grew clearer, sharpening into a voice he recognized - Sarah’s. The softness of her voice cut through the fog clouding his mind.

“Liam? Liam, are you alright?”

“He appears to be coming to, dear.” The voice was unfamiliar, but it struck something deep in Liam, sending a tingling sensation up his spine, just this side of pain.

“Are you sure, Madame Maev? I don’t know what happened. He doesn’t normally pass out like that.” Sarah’s voice trembled with concern. Poor Sarah, he thought. She cared so much. I’m okay, love. But the words stayed trapped inside him, unable to break free.

“Here, Liam. Drink some of this.” The brew hit his nose first - a pungent, noxious concoction - and he didn’t have the strength to turn his head or push it away. Whatever it was, it smelled foul, like bitter mushrooms and damp earth. As it slid down his throat, it hit him like a jolt of lightning, snapping him awake in an instant.

He realized he was lying on the ground, his head resting on a lap - not Sarah’s, but Madame Maev’s, her dark, penetrating eyes studying him. With effort, he pushed himself up, surprised to find his head clear and steady.

“What… what happened?” he rasped, his throat raw as though he’d been shouting.

“You passed out, babe,” Sarah said, reaching out to steady him. “If it weren’t for Madame Maev, I don’t know what would have happened. Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

He shook his head and gave her a reassuring nod, letting her help him up and guiding him to the nearest chair. He sank into it, murmuring his thanks, feeling the clarity from Maev’s strange drink, though his limbs still felt heavy and weak.

“What happened?” he asked again, this time directing the question at Maev, who had straightened her skirts and seated herself across the table, her expression cool and clinical.

“As I said, you passed out,” she replied, her tone matter-of-fact.

“And what was that drink?” Liam demanded, his voice barely stronger.

“Just a home remedy. Something my mother taught me,” Maev answered simply.

Liam let out a huff, feeling the edges of frustration creeping in. “Alright then. Fine. We’re done here. Let’s go, Sarah.” He made to stand, but his body refused to comply, his limbs betraying him with their dead weight.

Sarah, uncertain, glanced between him and Maev as though seeking some kind of permission. Liam’s annoyance flared.

“What exactly is going on here?” he asked, looking from one to the other, a prickling heat of anger and confusion rising within him.

Maev’s gaze stayed steady, almost amused. “It’s rather simple, Liam. The birthday girl here would like me to read your fortune.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “I’m not paying a single cent more for this nonsense. We’re leaving.” But as he tried once more to stand, his body sagged, barely moving. Fear prickled, chasing away his irritation as he cast a pleading look toward Sarah. She avoided his eyes.

“Babe, love, what’s going on? I love you. You can tell me,” he murmured, his voice soft with desperation.

It was Maev who answered. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner you can be gone, my boy,” she said, her voice almost mocking as she reached across the table and took his hands in hers. Her hands felt smooth and warm, firm in their grip, while his were rough, calloused, and now as weak as a child’s.

Maev turned his palms face up, inspecting them with intense focus. Her gaze finally lifted, locking onto his, and Liam was struck by the vivid, almost unnatural shade of emerald in her eyes. How had he missed that before?

The world around them faded, dissolving into a shadowed haze, leaving only her eyes, bright and consuming. Her lips moved, though the words felt distant, swallowed up by the strange sounds that filled his ears - the howl of wind, the faint beat of wings. Her gaze deepened, becoming like two green crystal spheres, and in their depths, shadows swirled and formed, taking shape into fleeting images he couldn’t quite grasp.

“You stand at a crossroads, Liam,” her voice murmured, soft and haunting. “You have a choice to make, an important one. Choose wisely, or you will lose everything. But if you choose well, a life of adventure awaits.”

A faint sound of cards shuffling broke through the silence. In the shadowed depths of her eyes, a single tarot card materialized, sharp and foreboding - the Ace of Spades.

“Your fate lies with the Ace of Spades, Liam. The choice is yours. Choose wisely.”

The vision shattered like glass.