Facing due southwest at twilight, Scorpio, you’ll bear witness to a crimson sun sinking beneath an indigo landscape, a sight drearily reminiscent of fallen souls and a reminder of impending darkness. Boundaries between our plane and the waning spirit world become as diaphanous as a cobweb, permitting transgressions from entities unknown. Steer clear from vaulted mirrors and echoes that reverberate in places they shouldn’t; these are the gateways for malign spirits, yearning to seep into our realm.

Tonight, those born under Scorpio will feel the creep of a hushed melody, like a moth’s fleeting wing brushing against your ears. Listen if you must, but do not confide in its soothing tune. Sounds from cloven instruments open up vortexes to realms where dreams are devoured, and nightmares are bred. Sup with the light, lay feast for it; for, hereon, shadows shall be your unwelcome companion until dawn.