Reborn as a Prophet in a Horror Movie

#033Reader Mode

#033

As Seojun hurtled downwards in that spinning, dizzying descent, a pang of regret hit him. His mind raced, replaying the confrontation with Gas Mask, filled with what-ifs and second thoughts.

Could I have aimed differently?

Doubt gnawed at him.

First, Seojun had no way of knowing what Gas Mask had under that long trench coat. Was it just a shirt, or something more protective like a bulletproof vest? The uncertainty weighed heavily, especially when it came to using his only bullet.

Then, what about aiming for the head?

But that idea got tossed out almost just as fast. The material of the killer’s gas mask was unknown – it might have been bulletproof for all he knew. A hit would have been ideal, but a miss could spell disaster.

Of course, Gas Mask’s mask didn’t cover his entire head; the back was exposed. But from his angle, Seojun wasn’t confident in his shot. So, he had opted for the hand that wielded the weapon.

But deep down, there was another reason, less about logic and more about instinct, stemming from his role as the prophet. Hearing Gas Mask’s voice and seeing his companions, including Christina fumbling in preparation, Seojun was convinced.

Christina, who inspired her friends and stood firm even in fear, was the true protagonist of this story. Seojun believed that if anyone was destined to kill Gas Mask, it was her.

This belief, perhaps more hopeful than rational, influenced his decision. Watching the killer, dragging along human skin with its hair tangled in his fingers, Seojun chose to aim for Gas Mask’s fingers – a decision clouded by fear, weakness, and maybe cowardice. Unlike others, Seojun didn’t have the heart to push himself towards murder.

And now, as a consequence of this choice, he was falling with Gas Mask, the ground rushing up to meet them.

As Seojun plummeted, the force tugging on his legs threatened to brutally smash his head against the unforgiving ground below. In that fleeting moment, all he could taste was blood in his mouth.

But the fall was abruptly cut short.

“Aaah!”

He screamed as his wrist was suddenly snatched, halting his descent. Johan, in a heroic lunge, had caught Seojun’s wrist in a vice-like grip.

The jarring stop sent a shockwave through Seojun’s body, feeling as if his shoulder would dislocate. Pain shot through his arm, feeling as if it were tearing apart.

“Ugh…”

He groaned, the taste of blood and spit mixing in his mouth. It wasn’t easy for Johan either, his bloodshot eyes unblinking as he gritted his teeth, holding on with all his might.

Seojun, slender as a rail but surprisingly dense-boned, should’ve been easy to pull up. But Gas Mask, clinging to his leg like a stubborn leech, was another story. His body, which was comparable in weight to John, was as heavy and unyielding as a sack of bricks.

Johan, half out the window, clung to the frame with his other hand for support. Seojun’s fingers clawed at Johan’s wrist in a desperate attempt to maintain his grip.

“Johan, don’t you dare let go!” Seojun shamelessly yelled out.

Johan, in response, cracked a cheerful grin that seemed out of place in such a tense moment.

“I won’t, trust me! I’ll never let go…”

Summoning every bit of strength, Johan held firm, even as tiny shards of glass dug into his palm. Up on the slanted roof, Christina and Airi could only watch helplessly, their position too precarious to offer assistance. They had barely maintained their balance while lying down to support Seojun earlier, and any attempt to help Johan could mean slipping off the roof themselves.

If this keeps up, Johan might be pulled out too.

In a frantic effort, Seojun started to violently kick at Gas Mask, who clung to his leg like a determined predator.

“F*ck! Get off me!”

But it was like trying to shake off a human bear trap. Gas Mask, undeterred, began to sway purposefully, pulling Johan even further out of the window, jeopardizing both their lives.

“Tsk!”

Johan’s brow, usually so striking, was now slick with sweat. His muscles bulged with effort, his fingers slipping from the window frame’s hold.

“Aaaah!”

In a flurry of movement, William, gritting through his own pain, ran towards Johan. But before he could reach them, Gas Mask reached up towards Seojun’s waist and Johan’s expression twisted fiercely.

In that critical moment, Johan made a split-second decision. Like a scene from an action movie, he leaped out of the window.

“Ah!”

Seojun let out a sharp cry as he suddenly felt lighter. Johan had grabbed him around the back, pulling him close. Using the momentum of his jump, Johan slammed his heel down onto Gas Mask’s head with a sickening thud.

Gas Mask finally let go, plummeting away from Seojun’s leg. The sheer force of Johan’s stomp made Seojun’s previous kicks seem like gentle taps.

Before Seojun could even begin to feel relieved about their narrow escape, he felt a jarring shock up his spine, fragile as it was. Johan, in a display of sheer audacity, had somehow managed to catch the side of the old dormitory, his timing impeccable as he kicked Gas Mask off in mid-air. Thanks to this crazy stunt, Seojun and Johan avoided the worst-case scenario of falling headfirst from the third floor.

But, of course, not everything went smoothly. They were clinging to the side of an old building, which wasn’t exactly designed for climbing. Without any convenient handholds, Johan desperately jammed his fingers into any crevice he could find. His quick reflexes were remarkable, but his fingernails and skin flew off, unable to withstand the friction.

“Ugh!”

A groan escaped Johan’s lips, his nose scrunching in pain. Despite the agony, he only held Seojun tighter, refusing to let another sound of pain slip.

For a moment, Seojun was awestruck, gazing at Johan. His lip, which he had been biting, was swollen and red. Seojun felt a weird mix of admiration and urgency heating up his face. But he couldn’t afford to hang around and figure out these feelings.

Next thing Seojun knew, Johan’s broad chest covered his face, and they hit the ground with Johan absorbing the brunt of the impact. They rolled a couple of times before coming to a stop. Before Seojun could even catch his breath from the fall, the overwhelming smell of sweat and blood hit him.

“Uh…”

He felt like he’d been put through a blender. After their rough tumble, the cool dampness of night dew seeped into his back. Lying there, dazed, his eyelashes fluttered slowly as he stared up past Johan’s sturdy shoulder at the moon. Its cold, almost cruel light made Johan’s sweat glisten.

“Johan, come on, wake up!”

Seojun started to panic, tapping Johan’s cheek urgently. Johan might act like some kind of superhuman, but he was just a regular guy underneath it all.

But there wasn’t time to wait for Johan to come around. Gas Mask, just a few steps away, was already getting back up. Seojun had to swallow back his fear, cursing under his breath.

F*cking horror movie serial killer! Damn Gas Mask!

Gas Mask had dropped from a lesser height, thanks to clinging onto Seojun’s leg. And while that kind of fall would have been bad news for anyone else, for a horror movie villain like him, it was just a minor setback.

Seojun was scared out of his mind, but thankfully, Johan didn’t take long to come to.

Johan, now weaponless and missing a few fingernails, clenched his fist. Seojun realized why Gas Mask had been so easily kicked off by Johan earlier.

Meanwhile, Gas Mask stood ominously, shoulders quivering with what seemed like stifled laughter, holding a gun that Seojun recognized all too well. A quick pat-down confirmed his suspicion: his own gun was missing.

With a slight cough to clear his throat, Seojun bravely positioned himself in front of Johan, who seemed ready for a physical fight despite needing to lean on his shoulder.

“Hold on a second, sir. How about we put that gun down and have a chat? We’ve been through a lot since our first encounter, but can’t we just move past it? I mean, it’s hard to read your mood under that mask. Are you green with envy, or maybe blue with sadness?…”

Seojun’s voice was sly and somewhat coquettish, yet somehow sincere, making it charming in a strange way. But Gas Mask wasn’t interested in chatting. Instead, he just pointed at his leg, reminding Seojun of their not-so-friendly encounter less than a day ago.

Seojun swallowed hard. Pretending ignorance was difficult since the memory of him swinging at that leg with an axe was still vivid. It was, after all, an incident that had happened less than a day ago, and it would be problematic to forget so soon. However, he did not give up hope and kept licking his lips.

“Listen, if it’s money you want, it’s all yours. I can even act like today never happened. I swear, no cops. Really, we should be heading to a hospital, not a police station, right?”

Gas Mask looked like he thoroughly enjoyed the sound of Seojun’s desperate bargaining. He raised the gun, lining up Seojun and Johan in his sights. No need to choose who to shoot first. The trigger started to squeeze back, the mouth under the mask twisting into a sadistic grin.

“Damn it, you crazy bastard, help me out here!” Seojun screamed.

Just then, the wind stirred, sending a chorus of leaves rustling. Amidst the wind’s whisper, the faint sound of a blade slicing through flesh was nearly drowned out. Seojun’s frantic shout added to the noise.

Gas Mask spun around, caught off guard by the disturbance. Standing there was a guy with golden hair, dark roots peeking through, his hair billowing in the breeze. His expression was an odd mix of emotions, his chin quivering as he held Gas Mask’s gaze.