The air is crisp and the sky is dark. You and your friend are walking through the woods, a morbid curiosity creeping through your body, a voice comes through the air, “I am called Flix. There are many like me, but I am the one called Flix.”
You look up to see a large shadowy figure and hear boots crashing through the woods as he runs off.
This is what Betty Westby and her psychic…
