"31: Draw Your Fear"

On the edge of Wallingford, where the old roads crack and the woods creep closer every year, there's a small broken-down shack with a faded sign that simply says: The Seer. People in town don't really talk about him, except in quiet conversations when they think no one is listening. Some say the Seer first showed up in 1995, the same year the Trail of Terror began. Others think he's been around much longer, maybe even before the town was built.

Inside the shack, it smells like melted wax, mold, and something much older. Behind a worn-out curtain, under a flickering old lamp, the Seer waits.

An ancient, blind prophet draped in rotting robes, his eyes bound with cloth to shield mortals from what he has seen. His long, withered beard flows like tangled roots, and from his back sprout gnarled, branch-like growths as though the forest itself has begun to claim him. His skeletal fingers linger over tarot cards, trembling as if each pull threatens to reveal something too dreadful to name.

But it's not really the Seer that people are afraid of — it's his deck of cards.

The Seer keeps a collection of thirty-one hand-drawn tarot cards. The cards look old and worn out from being handled too much. Each card echoing a terrifying moment from the Trail of Terror's history. The Flood, The Coven, and The Formula, to name a few. The final card, now at number thirty-one, is always a mystery. It shows up every October, always drawn by a new person, and once chosen, something terrible comes alive on the Trail.

The deck never rests — will you Draw Your Fear?