Talk:Psychic/@comment-27656236-20170706023030

Here's a lore idea:

She tossed and turned in bed, trapped in some fitful nightmare. Her eyes were shut tight against the dangers of the night, but her ears were wide open. She could almost hear an echo, a murmuring in the inky blackness... a name...

Knives stabbed in the darkness, a spurt of blood, a scream quickly silenced. She bolted awake, the bedsheets tangled around her like ropes, binding her to her place of torment. Opening her eyes and scanning for danger, she found none. It was another vision, the fifth night. They were frightening in themselves, but what was more chilling to her was that for the past four nights, the names whispered, sometimes two, sometimes three, had never been wrong.

The first night it had been a dream of a body hanging from a noose, the snap of its neck, and a sinister chuckle echoing across the landscape... and that morning, an innocent Town member was lynched by the Executioner. The second night, blood was everywhere as a faceless Doctor responded to a victim of a gunshot wound. The whispers were the worst, though, making her glance fearfully into every shadow, never trusting anyone...

Her fears were confirmed when dawn arose upon Salem to find the Crusader dead by the Serial Killer's hand, stabbed multiple times in the chest and gut. She gazed the remainder of the Town gathered by the gallows... or what people thought was the Town. Some were not as they seemed. But what could she do about it? She was no Sheriff with the ability to root out evil, nor a Vigilante with a gun of her own to defend against the night killers. She was just a nobody from the wrong side of the tracks, helpless while her friends and family were murdered one by one.

Her eyes fell upon a smiling man standing in the corner, chatting easily with the crowd. He claimed to be a Doctor, but the visions had never been wrong before... All of a sudden, she knew what she had to do. Sidling up to the Jailor, a powerful Town member she knew could be trusted, she tapped his shoulder to get his attention. She had to stand on tiptoe to reach his ear, but when she did, she whispered a name.