My Badass Luna

Mysteries Unveiled

(Alison P.O.V)

As Ethan led us down the bustling road, I marveled at the array of shops selling various antiques. The scene was vibrant, with the vendors' shouts mingling with the chatter of customers. Some vendors were hawking their wares loudly to attract attention, while others were engrossed in conversations with potential buyers. The shops displayed an eclectic mix of treasures from bygone eras: grand old standing clocks reminiscent of our grandparents' time, vintage telephones, and myriad other antiques.

After a while, Ethan guided us to a shop that stood out from the rest. It was old but exuded a certain charm and care in its upkeep. The sign above the door read, "Old Times Antiques Shop."

The wind chime rang softly as we walked into the shop, its gentle melody welcoming us. Inside, the shop was a treasure trove of history. The air was filled with a faint, nostalgic scent of aged wood and old books. Shelves lined the walls, crammed with a variety of antiques: porcelain figurines, brass candlesticks, intricately carved picture frames, and vintage trinkets.

A large, ornate mirror hung on one wall, its gold frame slightly tarnished but still magnificent. The dim light from antique lamps cast a warm, golden glow over everything, creating an inviting atmosphere.

In the center of the shop, a grand old grandfather clock stood, its pendulum swinging rhythmically, adding to the serene ambiance. Glass display cases showcased delicate items like old jewelry, pocket watches, and small, intricately detailed sculptures. The floor was a patchwork of polished wood and vintage rugs, each with its own unique pattern and story.

"Ethan, my man, it's been ages since I last saw you! What brings you here?" Behind the counter, an elderly shopkeeper with a kind smile and twinkling eyes greeted us warmly.

"Bred, it has indeed been a long time. One of my friends here wanted to examine some antiques collected by her grandfather, so I brought her to you," Ethan replied, sharing a hearty handshake with the elderly man.

"Alison, this is the owner of the shop, Bred Hilton. Bred, this is my sister, Ella, and my best friend, Alison," Ethan introduced us with a smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Bred said, shaking our hands. "Let's see what you've got."

Feeling a bit nervous, I took my bag from Ethan and carefully placed all four antiques on the counter. Mr. Hilton examined each piece with a practiced eye, noting the details and craftsmanship with great care.

"They are wonderful pieces of antiques, and in remarkably good shape. If we put the porcelain doll, necklace, or vase up for auction, they could fetch us millions," the shopkeeper said. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, my heart beginning to calm.

I felt a sense of relief and hope upon hearing the shopkeeper's words. However, the feeling didn't last long as the shopkeeper continued, "But I can't say the same for the painting. It's very old and in poor condition. The painting inside the frame is torn in the middle. It wouldn't fetch more than $1500."

"I have a customer who has been looking for this painting for a long time, but even he wouldn't pay more than $2,000. I can only offer you $1,800 for it. Do you still want to sell it to me?" the shopkeeper asked, looking at me. I shook my head in response.

"Alison, I think instead of giving these antiques to Mathew, we should sell them at auction and earn money from it. If the auction covers all your debts and there's still money left over, you can save it as emergency funds," Ella suggested.

"I agree with Ella," Ethan added. "It will be a win-win situation for us."

After thinking about it, I nodded. "Okay, let's do that," I agreed.

"Bred, we've decided to keep the painting with us. Do you know any auction dealers, and how much they charge?" Ethan asked the shopkeeper.

"Yes, I know one. But I don't know his exact rates. I'll give you his number, and you can ask him yourself," the shopkeeper replied. Ethan handed him his phone, and the shopkeeper entered the dealer's number.

Ella and Ethan helped me wrap the antiques and carefully placed them back in the bag. Ethan paid the shopkeeper $1,500 for his help, and we thanked him before walking out of the shop.

As we were about to head home, Ethan suddenly stopped and grinned. "You know, there's a fortune teller just a few blocks away. How about we go see what she has to say?" he suggested with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Alison, it could be fun, and who knows, maybe she'll tell us something interesting!" Ella chimed in, her excitement evident.

Curiosity got the better of us, and we decided to take a detour to visit the fortune teller. The small, dimly lit shop was tucked away in a quiet corner, with a sign that read, "Madame Zara's Mystical Readings."

The interior was filled with an eclectic mix of mystical artifacts – crystal balls, tarot cards, and dreamcatchers. The air was heavy with the scent of incense, adding to the otherworldly atmosphere.

Madame Zara, a woman with piercing eyes and an enigmatic smile, welcomed us. "Come in, come in. I sense you have many questions," she said, her voice soothing yet filled with an air of mystery.

We took our seats around a small, round table draped in a deep purple cloth. Madame Zara began by reading our palms, her fingers tracing the lines with practiced precision.

When she reached me, she paused, her expression turning serious. "Are you facing some financial trouble?" she asked. I nodded my head, feeling a chill run down my spine.

"And so you have decided to participate in some event to earn money to solve it, right?" Madame Zara continued. I nodded again, my heart pounding.

Madame Zara suddenly pulled me closer, gripping my hand tightly. "Hear my word, child. I advise you otherwise. Don't participate in that contest. If you do, you will cause big trouble in your home, which could even result in the death of a loved one," she warned, her eyes locking deeply with mine, sending a wave of fear through me.

"What rubbish are you speaking?" Ethan exclaimed, trying to pull my hand free from Madame Zara's grasp.

The room's atmosphere grew tense, the fortune teller's words lingering ominously in the air.

"Alison, don't listen to her. They do this to rip you off," Ella comforted me as Ethan finally managed to remove my hands from Madame Zara's grip. Ethan harshly put the money on the table and led me and Ella out of the shop. But the woman even followed us out of the shop.

'Don't take my words lightly, child. Otherwise, you will regret it. I mean it when I say it, cut your name off the participation list,' Madame Zara called out as we walked towards Ethan's car without even looking back at her.

Just as we thought we had left her eerie presence behind, Madame Zara's voice rang out one final, chilling warning: 'The person you are trying to hide from will not leave you alone even after you repay four debts. He will follow you to the very gates of hell.' But we didn't pay any heed to her words, only to regret it later.