Reborn as a Prophet in a Horror Movie

#046Reader Mode

#046

Johan stood there, staring blankly since he didn’t quite get what was happening. Seojun shamelessly walked on, as if he had replaced the skin on his face with an iron plate. He strutted confidently, chin up like he was just taking a casual stroll and not running away from something. His walk was a bit stiff and awkward, like a puppet on strings, but it would’ve been convincing if not for his flushed cheeks.

Trying to play it cool, Seojun put on a brave face about ten steps away.

“Yeah, uh-huh. That’s my dream. I just want to live a good life. Eat great food, travel, that sort of thing.”

The chill in the air did nothing to stop the sweat that beaded on Seojun’s brow, and when Johan tentatively asked a question, he found himself at a loss for words.

“How about you? How do our shared memories seem to you?”

Johan searched his face for some sign of recognition or understanding—anything to validate their so-called ‘love history’. The bright hope in his eyes left a bitter taste in Seojun’s mouth. But all Seojun could think about were those dark days as a prophet, reliving every humiliation and hardship. He couldn’t help but wonder where, in all those painful memories, Johan had managed to find traces of love.

Exhausted beyond measure, Seojun felt even more drained than when Gas Mask had chased him across the campsite. He took a deep breath to ease the tightness in his throat and walked back to lightly grab Johan’s wrist before walking again.

At the very least, Johan believed his feelings were genuine, and his heartfelt actions today managed to stir something in Seojun’s otherwise self-absorbed heart. With a stiff expression, Seojun struggled for words, running a hand over his face repeatedly.

“Alright, Johan… let’s be rational here,” he started, tripping over his own words. He took a deep breath before trying again, “I mean, you wanting a… uh, a gay relationship is… well…” His lips moved frantically as he searched for the right words, but nothing seemed to come out right.

His eyes darted around, realizing his poor choice of words, and he quickly corrected himself, “What I meant was, you’re attracted to me on a more physical level.”

Johan narrowed his eyes like a cunning fox for an instant, then just as swiftly returned to a look of pure innocence. “It’s deeper than that, Jun. It’s about my true feelings—feelings from the bottom of this pure heart of mine.” he quickly corrected him, tapping his chest for emphasis. Seojun couldn’t help but feel skeptical, his lips curling scornfully.

“Yeah, that heart,” Seojun scoffed. “But just so we’re clear, I have no plans on dating anyone or anything like that.” He reasoned with a shrug. Why would he want to deal with messy emotions like love or being responsible for another when he had enough problems of his own?

As Seojun’s tone grew more indifferent, Johan pouted and asked, “You planning on staying single forever then? Becoming a lonely old man?” His voice dripped with concern, but there was an undertone of mischief in his words. “Want to spend your golden years all alone, huh, Jun?”

Seojun frowned at Johan’s clinginess and sighed. “What? Not forever, but…” He hadn’t given it much thought, but deep down, he did harbor dreams of a happy family life someday.

Despite his parents occasionally acting crazy, they were a happy couple and loving parents. Memories flashed before him—his father playfully tucking a lily behind his mother’s ear, her cheeks flushing as she laughed, dropping 5 sugar cubes into his tea. They were far from perfect, yet they still managed to create a warm, loving environment.

Of course, all thoughts of a future family were on hold until he escaped the accursed Wraithwood. It wasn’t like he was completely isolated; he had his parents and a few acquaintances—Stefan O, who became a friend thanks to their shared misery at the hands of the Gold-Silver-Bronze trio, the dapper shopkeeper Fred with his impressive mustache, Bren whose lingering glances made him uncomfortable, Florence whom he consoled after her breakup with Gilbert. Henry, Richard’s younger brother who was oddly friendly, and Bobby, who often picked fights with him…

That’s quite a few people, isn’t it?

As he tallied up his growing social circle. He broke out in a cold sweat at the realization that his life wasn’t as barren as he thought—well, except for Bobby who was… probably dead now. With renewed confidence and a lighter heart, Seojun tapped his chin with slender fingers like twigs on winter branches, a smirk playing on his lips. Johan watched him intently, drinking in every detail of this scene before him.

Seojun continued, “I won’t stay single forever, but that’s after I leave here.” he clarified, his voice surprisingly gentle, showing how relaxed he felt now. “There’s an order to things in life. You understand, Johan?” This conclusion was surprisingly opposite to his harsh prophecies.

Johan couldn’t tear his eyes away from the messy yet eerily beautiful Seojun, who was covered in dirt, dried bloodstains, sweat, and shadows that accentuated every angle—from the handsome jawline to the delicate collarbones peeking through grime-covered pale skin and his slender, down to his slender limbs. Despite talking about his fear of death, Seojun’s appearance ironically seemed as if death itself had sculpted him into a gloomy otherworldly corpse beauty.

Desire coursed through Johan’s veins like wildfire, igniting a yearning to pull Seojun close, to trace every line and curve of his body with reverence. However, he was a man who knew patience.

“So you’re saying that, not now, but you might want to date someone in the future?”

Seojun hesitated before reluctantly admitting, “Yeah, maybe then.” The skin under his left eye twitched as he realized what he just said, but he had already carelessly answered. Johan pounced on the opportunity with a bright grin.

“I can wait until then.” he said, leaning in close. “Jun, do you have someone you like?”

Johan’s imposing presence was quite impressive when you had to look up at him. Seojun swallowed hard and confessed, “No, not really….”

“Well, that’s good. You don’t have to worry about anything. We’ve got time.” Johan said with a disarming smile. “As we get to know each other better, if you ever change your mind about dating—”

“Wait, what about my say in this?” Seojun interjected, but his protests fell on deaf ears.

“Of course, it includes your opinion too! It’ll be an outcome that makes us both happy.”

Seojun shook his head desperately and tried to refuse, but Johan clung to him like a wet rag. Had Johan been more assertive, Seojun might have strongly resisted, but he was being so disarmingly hopeful, like a puppy begging for table scraps that Seojun found himself at a loss for words. Before he knew it, their pinky fingers were entwined in an awkward handshake sealing some sort of bizarre agreement…

Seojun stared at Johan incredulously, his eyes wide with disbelief. Johan, in response, flashed a grin that reached his eyes, softening his features into a sweet expression. If it were any other time or place—say, the Hamon campsite under the midday sun instead of this gloomy forest lit by moonlight—it might have been a heartwarming scene. But there they stood, covered in dried blood and ashes, bodily fluids.

He glanced down at Johan’s mangled hand, biting back a retort. He couldn’t bring himself to reject him outright; after all, he reasoned, it was purely a strategic move. Otherwise, the thought of what was happening was too bitter to bear.

“But, Jun. Aren’t your parents worried about you?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, my folks know I’m at the campsite so they won’t worried if I don’t call, but shouldn’t you be home by now?”

Seojun floundered for a moment. He knew the unnatural reason for their lack of contact, but Johan didn’t know the truth about the horror movie-like constraints. He rubbed his cheeks nervously as he fabricated an excuse. “My parents were supposed to have dinner at the Humblebees’ place tonight.”

“Oh, the couple who got hurt recently?”

“Yes, them.”

The Humblebees were a sweet old couple in their neighborhood. The wife had heart issues, and her husband recently took a tumble down the stairs, breaking his leg. Their kids lived in the city and only called them now and then; Seojun himself had never even met them. He had heard that Mrs. Humblebee was close to his great-grandmother, but Seojun himself didn’t even know his grandparents’ faces. He often grumbled that Mrs. Humblebee’s backstory was too fleshed out for such a minor character in this twisted play of a life he found himself trapped in.

“They probably think I went to bed early if their dinner goes on for too long.” Seojun mumbled, leaning his head against Johan’s shoulder. “Just my bad luck I guess.”

A deep breath was heard beside him, and when he glanced over, Johan’s earlobes were as red as cherries in the dim light.

“Yeah, bad timing. That’s right, Jun.”

Seeing Johan so embarrassingly shy, Seojun felt a flush creep up his own neck, so he quickly straightened up and created some distance between them, continuing their walk with just a small gap separating them.

They continued along the path where Gas Mask had presumably dragged Bobby away, and Seojun couldn’t help but notice how loudly Johan’s heartbeat thumped in his chest. A useless trivial fact. Amidst their walk, Johan asked a strange question.

“Jun, how do you feel about wearing rubber for protection?”

“Huh? Oh, my gloves? I wear them because I have to, not because I like it. Honestly, they’re kinda uncomfortable. Going bare feels more natural.”

“I see. I’ll keep that in mind.”

To Seojun’s surprise, Johan’s face took on a pensive look, his gaze seeming to drift far away. Seojun couldn’t help but take a deep breath, feeling an odd tightness in his throat. Then, breaking the silence, Johan’s voice came through, lighter and almost teasing.

“Honestly, it wasn’t love at first sight, Jun.” Johan confessed with a shy smile.

“I never bought that story anyway.”

Johan’s cheeks turned a shade of pink as he scratched his nose, looking sheepishly away.

“It was more like… the more I got to know you, the more you grew on me. You kind of snuck up on me.”

He closed his eyes, his deep-colored gaze disappearing behind his eyelids. It was a gentle smile accompanying an equally light-hearted confession. But Seojun didn’t smile back. His heart thumped wildly in his chest, like a caged bird trying to break free.

Just as Seojun was gathering his thoughts for a reply, his foot stepped on something that crunched underfoot.

Crack!

Glancing down, he saw the remains of a crushed acorn under his heel. The sound of its breaking shell seemed to reverberate through the silent forest. Johan paused too, looking at the acorn. They both noticed it then.

Tucked among the trees near the Hamon campsite was a hidden cabin. The chatter between Johan and Seojun ceased as they approached, moving silently towards the cleverly concealed hideout. They emerged into a small clearing.

Around the swamp, trees with sharply-edged, circular leaves rustled in the wind, the sound magnified in the stillness. The foul odor wafting from the cabin’s half-open door merged with the swamp’s decay, creating an unbearable stench.

Seojun’s eyes widened in disgust, the terrible smell nearly numbing his nose. This place, uncharted and unknown, was Gas Mask’s hideout – the notorious Hamon Production Workshop.