Reborn as a Prophet in a Horror Movie

#027Reader Mode

T/N: Trigger Warning: May contain scenes of violence that are graphically depicted, which may upset sensitive viewers. (¬ ´ཀ` )¬

#027

6. The Golden Ratio

No, there was one other time too.

This wasn’t something Seojun could just shrug off. To be fair, Golden had burst in here, flailing like a fish gasping on dry land, which wasn’t easy to do so in front of a soldier with a gun. Seojun could feel the worry lines on his forehead start to melt away. He didn’t want to admit it, but there was this gnawing, uneasy feeling twisting in his gut. He tried to shove it down, burying it deep in some forgotten nook of his mind.

Seojun was a survivor. He’d weathered all kinds of storms just to keep breathing. If it meant he could draw one more breath, he’d go through much worse. Cozying up to death wasn’t on his to-do list. If all it took to keep his eyes open a minute longer was to sit through the Gold-Silver-Bronze trio’s stories, then that was a price he’d pay with a shrug.

He wiped his chapped lips with his hand. He could feel someone watching him, but he didn’t bother acknowledging it.

The inside of the old dorm was like a cave at night. The lone lantern’s glow couldn’t hope to light up the whole first floor, so they huddled around it like moths. William was sticking close to Airi, while Christina kept shooting wary looks at the bound soldier. Johan was off to Seojun’s right, not bothering to look at whoever was talking.

The lantern, with its soft, orange glow, seemed like a relic from a bygone era, yet its interior workings were undoubtedly state-of-the-art, a deceptive blend of old and new.

The artificial light highlighted parts of Golden’s face, casting peculiar shadows that stirred a sense of unease. The small crust of blood on his lips broke as they began to move, continuing the story Seojun had cut off.

“And then, we ended up here…”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The old dorm was a dump, plain and simple. Brass kicked the door open with his foot, like he couldn’t stand the thought of touching it. The hinges groaned in protest, revealing the grimy interior. Richard made a face and covered his nose, clearly grossed out. Brass just cackled at him. Golden hung back, dragging his feet as he followed them in.

The place was a disaster zone, inside and out. The ominous-colored swamp by the building looked like something out of a horror flick and smelled just as bad.

“Golden! What’s with the gloom and doom? Get in here!”

Brass, eager to get his kicks with drugs and spying on Christina and Airi, shoved Richard aside and strode back to the door. Golden shot Brass’s smug grin a bitter look.

“Are you sure we won’t get caught here? My damn old man said he’d take my head off if I got busted again. Damn it, I might as well bail on that place. I’m sick of hearing that bastard’s sawing when he’s home. Why bother buying furniture when he’s obsessed with making it himself all day long?”

“Relax, Golden. This place is a dump, that’s why we can sneak in so easy,” Brass said, slinging an arm around Golden’s shoulders with a sneer.

“The caretaker looking after this place? Slow as a snail and not the sharpest tool in the shed. You’ve seen his pockmarked face. Doubt he’s ever nailed a job properly in his life. He’s destined to just wither away in this backwater dump. But if we get caught, we just gotta play it cool.”

Brass spat disdainfully on the ground, grinding it into the dirt with his shoe.

“Let’s get inside and stir up some trouble. I’ve been here before, found some crazy stuff. Even a crossbow, can you believe it?”

“…….”

Golden’s gaze flicked to Brass’s pocket, saliva pooling in his mouth as a shiver of anticipation tingled down to his groin. When the drug-induced haze settled in, visions of his slender, pale neck would float into his mind, the delicate collarbones pressing lightly against the skin, usually hidden beneath the glossy veil of his raven hair.

He swallowed hard, trying to shake off the ominous feeling, but the wave of pleasure in his lower abdomen was too strong, eclipsing the usual euphoria he felt.

As day turned to evening, Brass finally lowered the binoculars, leaving red marks where they had pressed too hard against his skin. He had been watching the lake from the third-floor window of the old dorm.

“Come on, Airi, take it off. Damn, strip down already!” he muttered under his breath, wishing for more action at the lake.

As the sun dipped low, it painted the forest in a fiery blaze and dyed the lake a deep crimson. It was a killer view, but Brass, with his one-track mind, couldn’t care less about nature’s light show.

Even buzzed out of his mind, Brass hadn’t forgotten the real reason he’d lugged the binoculars up here—to spy on Christina and Airi by the lake.

Fortunately for them, his leering gaze didn’t linger. The trio was too blitzed to catch the main event. By the time they sobered up enough to remember the binoculars, the girls had already left the water and were firing up the grill for a barbecue.

All Brass managed to see was Airi and Christina munching on grilled meat, their cheeks stuffed like chipmunks. But he wasn’t one to give up easily. He leaned precariously out the window, the old wood groaning in protest under his weight.

Richard, who couldn’t watch this trainwreck anymore, chucked his empty beer can at back of Brass’s head with a satisfying thunk.

“What the—!”

“Knock it off and drink your beer. Or hit the stash…”

Richard, his eyes glazed, glanced at him and then cracked open another beer. Foam erupted from the can, but Richard just chuckled and licked the mix of powder and beer foam from his fingers.

Brass rubbed the back of his head and chucked the empty can out the window, where it landed in the bushes with a soft thud. He sauntered over to where Golden was adjusting his pants.

“Listen up, guys. I’ve got a good idea. It’s good for you, and it’s good for me.” Brass announced, a sly grin spreading across his face.

Golden elbowed Brass in the ribs, half-annoyed, half-amused. “You gonna keep saying good until it actually sounds convincing?”

Brass’s grin only widened as he leaned in closer to Golden.

“Come on, Golden! I saw you earlier, ogling the girls, right? That’s why you’re all hot and bothered.”

“Drop it,” Golden snapped, his cheeks burning as he shoved Brass away, but he had no intention of correcting his misunderstanding.

“Let’s have some fun with those dumb lucky guys, shall we? Give them a scare?”

Brass was waving around a crossbow, surprisingly adept with it for something that wasn’t his. Richard, who’d been trying to squeeze the last drops from his can, staggered over, slightly unsteady.

“What’s that for?”

“What do you think? We’ll give Bobby’s yappy little dog of a butt a scare, and then maybe take a shot at William, who’s brain is probably all muscle. Oh, and we can’t forget Johan’s ugly mug!”

Brass’s laughter echoed wildly as he pretended to fire the crossbow, while Golden just smirked. Actually shooting them was out of the question, but a good scare? Why not? The trio, buzzing with adrenaline and high as kites, stumbled to their feet. Golden, leading the way down the creaky stairs, couldn’t suppress his chuckles.

Their judgment, already questionable, was now completely fogged by their high. Maybe that’s why, when they encountered something strange, they just stood there, blinking stupidly.

“Uh, what’s that?”

As they staggered out of the old dormitory’s main gate, they were met with a bizarre sight—a pale, writhing mass in the swamp.

“Am I tripping?” Richard slurred, squinting his eyes.

But no, his vision was spot on. The shape was moving, undulating. Brass was the first to break the silence.

“Is this some kind of live-action horror show? Like, Survive the Night with Monster X or something?”

Brass wasn’t frightened, not in the slightest. He inhaled sharply, then burst into raucous laughter, slapping Richard on the back so hard he nearly fell over. And then, in typical Richard fashion, he actually stumbled and hit the ground with a thud.

From the murky swamp, a ghostly white tentacle stealthily approached Richard, its movements eerily smooth, leaving the trio more curious than alarmed. It was strange, sure, but not particularly terrifying. Not yet, at least.

Richard, still floating on cloud nine, casually touched the tentacle that had wrapped itself around his waist. It felt slick and cold with the distinct miasma of swamp air.

“Holy sh*t, get a pic of this, will ya?!” Richard yelled, his cheeks flushed with excitement. Brass, quick on the uptake, whipped out his phone. Golden, still lost in a euphoric fog, seemed almost entranced. That might explain why his words came out heavy and slurred.

“Richard, hold up. That thing…”

Golden pointed towards the squirming mass. Another tentacle had now joined the first, tightly coiled around Richard’s waist. This new tentacle, dotted with an array of little suckers, pulsed as if they had a life of their own.

With each pulse, Richard’s hair fluttered in the breeze it created, and Golden had this surreal thought that the creature was somehow sniffing him…

That was the moment when it all clicked. Despite the fog in his brain, Golden’s eyes were taking in every horrifying detail.

“Uh, Argh! Wait, help me. HELP ME!!”

What began as laughter for Richard soon escalated to sheer panic as the tentacle began to constrict. But before he could scream, another tentacle was already plunging into his mouth.

“Gurk!”

This tentacle, unlike its thicker counterparts, was eerily slender, stretching Richard’s mouth into a grotesque, silent scream. His eyes were wide with terror, but Golden and Brass stood frozen, as if their feet had melded with the swampy ground.

Inside Richard’s mouth, the tentacle thrashed with a violent life. Richard might have been screaming in agony, but Golden heard nothing. The tentacle had devoured his screams, and it seemed, his very insides.

What in the world is happening?

What is that thing?!

Golden stood frozen in a trance of horror, his eyes wide with fear, as Richard’s legs flailed wildly. His bladder betrayed him, urine trickling down his pants. The translucent tentacle, in a disgusting display, began to feast on Richard’s lungs. They were drawn out, leaving a trail of blood and tissue along its length.

Richard’s body spasmed and twitched, his nervous system overloaded with pain, but he made no sound. The tentacle then moved on to his pancreas, causing his abdomen to cave inward. Blood sprayed from all his orifices, its metallic odor mingling with the sharp scent of ammonia.

Golden felt detached, as if his senses had short-circuited, leaving him in a surreal, muted world, though he was still standing on solid ground. The silence was broken by the wet thud of something round and moist hitting the ground at his feet. He looked down to see Richard’s eye staring up at him in mute accusation. Slowly, Golden’s gaze traveled upwards, a morbid realization dawning on him…

A body, stripped of its organs, is shockingly thin.