Reborn as a Prophet in a Horror Movie

#017Reader Mode

#017

To reach Zone D, the guardhouse, one had to first pass through Zone A, which included the campfire area and the campsite.

As Seojun stepped into the campfire area, he couldn’t help but clutch his trembling arm. It had been less than a day since he was attacked by Gas Mask. The memory of the Hamon knife, which had nearly pierced his jaw, was still vivid in his mind.

Johan noticed Seojun’s discomfort as he avoided looking at the towering stack of firewood. He reached out, holding Seojun’s bony wrist and gently tracing the swollen blue veins with his finger.

“Jun, want a piggyback ride?”

“What are you talking about? What if we get attacked?”

“Are you scared?”

Johan maintained eye contact with Seojun as he walked briskly. Seojun pondered his question. Scared?

Of course, he was. Monsters and murderers could ambush them at any moment. The campsite, now a playground for a sadistic killer and an unknown monster, was nothing short of terrifying.

Seojun couldn’t understand how Johan remained so calm. His ocean-blue eyes showed no sign of disturbance. His gaze, tender and gentle, didn’t resonate with Seojun. However, the warmth of Johan’s palm against his and Johan’s calm, resonating voice planted a seed of doubt in Seojun’s mind.

This disharmony was sometimes unsettling. Seojun shrugged off Johan’s hand and admitted, “Yes, I’m scared. I can’t stand it.”

Then, as if he had hooked him, Johan’s hand brushed past Seojun’s and gripped his shoulder. He smiled widely, his grip on Seojun’s skinny shoulder firm.

“Don’t be scared, Jun. I’m with you, okay?”

Johan, a skilled quarterback, was an imposing figure. Standing at 194 cm and weighing 97 kg, his experienced movements and strategic gaze had made him invaluable on the field.

But this was no game. In the face of life-threatening danger, it was strange to have a normally beating heart. Eventually, Seojun couldn’t hold back the question that had been nagging at him. He looked up at Johan’s seemingly smiling face and asked,

“Why aren’t you scared?”

Was it the adrenaline rush from battling the tentacle monster? If that was the case, Johan’s heartbeat should have been through the roof, stripping away his calm demeanor. Johan simply closed his eyes and answered with a smile,

“I understand that the situation is dangerous. But letting emotions take over isn’t really helpful. Everything has its time and place, right?”

“That’s…” Seojun started, but he was cut off by his own thoughts.

Johan was mostly right. But could human emotions really be compartmentalized so rationally?

Seojun quickly shrugged off Johan’s hand from his shoulder and turned to face him, their eyes locking once again. He couldn’t help but let out a sigh, almost sounding like he was impressed. If only things were as simple as Johan made them out to be.

While walking, they came upon a man in a black trench coat. Gas Mask was an intimidating sight. He had large goggles that gave him an insect-like appearance, his head was tilted in a curious manner, and he was brandishing the sharp Hamon knife. As a cloud momentarily uncovered the moon, its light fell upon him, revealing his ominous presence.

He was standing tall and imposing, leaning casually against a stack of firewood in the campfire area. Next to him, the sound of someone nervously swallowing broke the tense silence.

“Gas Mask….”

The voice, raspy as if strained from a sore throat, belonged to Bobby. His eyes were flicking back and forth between Gas Mask and Seojun, his face etched with disbelief.

But reality was proving to be a harsh mistress. Seojun, despite his injured leg, was moving with a surprising amount of agility.

Johan, without saying a word, stepped forward, positioning Seojun protectively behind him. His hand was firmly gripping the skewer, ready to be thrown at a moment’s notice.

“Jun, is that the guy you were talking about?”

“…Yes.”

Gas Mask was nonchalantly playing with his Hamon knife, tossing it up and catching it with his right hand. He seemed completely at ease, almost pleased, as if he was happy to be reunited with an old acquaintance.

He then raised his empty left hand, starting to count on his fingers: one, two, three. With each number, Seojun’s anxiety ratcheted up a notch. It was terrifying to realize that he could somewhat predict what the killer was thinking.

Gas Mask seemed to be calculating how many necks he would need to slash for his Hamon ritual. Any fleeting hope that Johan’s presence might tip the scales in their favor quickly evaporated.

“Uh, there are three of us!” Bobby suddenly shouted, his voice filled with forced confidence as he tried to mask his fear.

Gas Mask, as if he had been anticipating this moment, holstered his knife and drew a crossbow. The release of the bolt echoed loudly across the campsite. A bolt flew past, narrowly missing Bobby, who gasped in shock.

Thud! The sharp sound of the bolt embedding itself in a tree just above him made Bobby slowly turn his head, his face now completely drained of color.

“Uh, uh…”

You really couldn’t blame Bobby at this point. If that bolt had hit him, he would’ve had a massive hole right through his head, tin pot helmet or not.

Gas Mask, having just taken his shot, seemed to be shaking with silent laughter. It was like watching a mime perform, but there was nothing funny about it.

Seojun, standing quietly next to Johan, knew that using someone as a human shield wasn’t going to cut it here. They’d just end up getting picked off one by one. Considering how strong and resilient killers in horror movies usually are, Gas Mask had them beat in both long-range and close-quarters combat.

A chilling wind swept through the campsite, and it was clear that they were the ones in a desperate situation, not Christina.

This isn’t really a three-on-one situation, is it? Seojun thought, fully aware of his own limitations.

As he sized up the situation, he could feel his knees starting to give out from sheer despair. Both Bobby, who was practically paralyzed with fear, and himself, who wasn’t exactly the most muscular guy around, were more liabilities than assets at this point. Johan seemed to realize this too and whispered urgently.

“Jun, Bobby, try not to move too much. You’ll become easier targets.”

He had put a tin pot on Bobby’s head in an attempt to protect him, but they all knew it was just a feeble attempt to offer some comfort. A tin pot wouldn’t stand a chance against a crossbow bolt. Seojun also pulled out the kitchen knife he had in his pocket, ready for anything. Meanwhile, Gas Mask was already reloading his crossbow.

Then, out of nowhere, something completely unexpected happened. Something so out of left field that even Seojun couldn’t have predicted it.

“Aaaah!”

Bobby, tin pot and all, suddenly charged forward, leading with his head. It took everyone by surprise. The killer definitely hadn’t seen this coming. He took a direct hit to the gut from Bobby’s head!

[…..!]

With a thud, Gas Mask was sent sprawling backwards. And Bobby, who had charged in so recklessly, also toppled over, landing right on top of him.

It was an incredible turn of events. Johan was already on the move before Seojun could even react. Despite his size, Johan was surprisingly quick. He sprinted forward in one go, ready to throw his skewer.

“Ah!”

But the killer was quick to react. He grabbed Bobby by the back of his neck and tossed him aside like a ragdoll. Bobby’s body flew through the air, momentarily blocking Johan’s line of sight.

In that split second, as Johan was shoving Bobby out of the way, a Hamon knife came flying towards his forehead. Seojun, acting on pure instinct, reached out and cried Johan’s name. The chilling sound of a blade sinking into flesh filled the air.

A searing pain exploded in the back of Seojun’s right hand. He bit back a scream, locking eyes with the killer. The murderous intent behind that flickering gas mask was crystal clear.

But Seojun was not backing down. Glancing at the Hamon knife now embedded in his hand, he couldn’t help but give a twisted smile. This was his chance, and he wasn’t going to let it slip away. Clutching the kitchen knife he had grabbed earlier, he shouted,

“You f*cking bastard!”

The fleeting thrill of revenge momentarily dulled the pain. Sweat poured down his neck as he flipped the knife in his hand and drove it into Gas Mask’s wrist. The gruesome sound of metal slicing through sinew and hitting bone filled the air.

But Gas Mask’s bones were tougher than Seojun’s flesh. He didn’t even flinch as his wrist was stabbed. Instead, he used the arm still holding the Hamon knife to jerk it back, slicing through Seojun’s flesh. Seojun’s face contorted in agony.

“Argh, ahhhh!”

The pain was overwhelming, a mix of ruptured blood vessels and torn muscles. The initial adrenaline rush from his moment of revenge had faded, leaving only excruciating pain. He couldn’t help but scream.

In the midst of the chaos, Johan spotted his opportunity. As Seojun fell into a crouch, Johan seized the few precious seconds the killer used to pull out his Hamon knife.

Bobby, trying to jump back into the action, was quickly shoved aside by Johan. He seemed completely unfazed by his near-death experience and didn’t seem to give a second thought to Bobby’s safety. Johan, with his lips pressed tightly together, extended his arm, skewer in hand. His shoulder blades stood out, and his arm and shoulder muscles moved with a fluidity that was almost whip-like.

The skewer, glinting silver in the moonlight, shot forward, aimed directly at the killer’s neck. Johan’s eyes were dark and focused, zeroed in on the narrow gap between the gas mask and the trench coat.

Clang!

But the attempt to take down the killer failed. Even though Johan’s aim was spot on, Gas Mask managed to defend himself using the crossbow instead of his bloodied Hamon knife. The skewer got caught in the stirrup of the crossbow.

“You’re quite the lucky one, aren’t you?”

Johan taunted, a smirk playing on his lips. Gas Mask simply tilted his head, completely unbothered and unresponsive to Johan’s provocation.

The two men were of a similar build, but Gas Mask seemed bulkier due to his clothing. However, his trembling shoulders hinted that he might not be able to easily overpower Johan.

Seojun, trying to shake off the pain in his hand, splattered bright red blood onto the grass. Without turning around, Johan called out,

“Jun, are you okay?!”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me!” Seojun called back quickly, not wanting Johan to get distracted and risk getting killed. He lunged towards the killer’s arm, which was busy dealing with the skewer and the crossbow. There was no telling when he might decide to use his Hamon knife.

But Seojun’s lighter frame stumbled and fell as another body collided with him. Looking up, he saw a silhouette backlit by a strong light.

Of course, it was Bobby.