Reborn as a Prophet in a Horror Movie

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#055

So, Seojun was discharged. He left the hospital with a temporary eye prosthesis and an eye patch, looking like a teenager who’d just had a run-in with a pesky stye. Instead of the refreshing scent of grass, a strong whiff of city smog greeted him as he stepped outside. Seojun coughed and spluttered, covering his mouth with his free hand. It was only after a few coughs that the clean, post-rain air reached his nose.

Slinging his backpack, stuffed with clothes and various items used during his stay, over his shoulder, Seojun started walking with a slight hunch. He dodged puddles left behind by the recent downpour, his sneakers splashing through the smaller ones.

Usually, his parents would’ve been there to pick him up, but life had other plans. His mom’s company was dealing with a major crisis—something about a crazy thunderstorm that hit their office building thirteen times in a row. Lightning struck thirteen damn times in the same place! Seojun couldn’t help but marvel at the absurdity of it all.

Seojun had overheard terms like ‘server’ and ‘cloud’ but didn’t know much more than that something was wrong with the computers. It was a big deal, too, because even people who usually didn’t deal with tech stuff were called in to help fix it. They’d been working all night, but the problem was still there.

After receiving the call in Seojun’s hospital room, his father attempted a joke with a sheepish grin about lightning striking thirteen times on the 13th, but it was clear that comedic talent wasn’t one of his strong suits. As a result, His dad showed up at the hospital with a bag filled with basic toiletries and clothes.

Seojun could tell his dad was worried, so he convinced him to go back and help Mom at work. His dad hesitated, but the person on the other end of the phone call sounded like they meant business. Plus, the threat of him being kidnapped was now over.

And most importantly, someone had been consistently calling, promising to bring Seojun home safely. The voice on the other end of the line was higher-pitched than usual and sounded incredibly earnest, making Seojun smile without realizing it…

“Jun!”

A voice rang out urgently, and the owner of that voice practically leaped out of the car, as if he’d been dying to get out. If he had a tail, it’d be wagging like crazy.

Johan came sprinting towards Seojun with a huge grin on his face, his usually composed athlete’s demeanor replaced by frantic haste. His long legs carried him forward in no time, and a light scent of sweat hit Seojun as the breeze picked up.

Seojun instinctively tensed up, unsure of what was happening. Johan, who had been rushing towards him with open arms, slammed on the brakes, his muddy sneakers skidding to a halt just a step away. His breath came in heavy gasps, as if he’d been running a marathon.

Seojun’s gaze slowly traveled upwards, from Johan’s heaving chest to his collarbones, then to his neck, where taut tendons stood out like ropes. His eyes finally met Johan’s, which held a peculiar expression, one that seemed ready to smile and cry at the same time.

Johan’s mouth, which had been smiling so brightly just a moment ago, now twitched uncontrollably, and his eyes widened as if he were desperately trying to hold back tears. His trembling hand reached out to caress Seojun’s right cheek, his fingers trembling just as much. His lips quivered, as if he were on the verge of saying something, but the moment his fingertip brushed against the strap of the eye patch, he crumbled and finally burst into tears.

“Ju-Jun, your eye… it’s… gone? Really?”

Johan’s face turned a deep shade of red as he wept, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. Seojun’s nose tingled for some reason as he watched his Johan’s tears stream down his face. Feeling awkward, he pushed Johan’s shoulder and turned away, trying to hide his own discomfort.

“Hey, hey, why are you crying over something like this…?” Seojun blurted out, his voice catching in his throat. “You! Look at your hand, it’s a mess!” He winced, trying to hold back his own tears. “Agh, f*ck, my eye… ugh…”

“Junaaagh!”

In an instant, Johan’s arms were around him, squeezing him in a vice-like hug. Their bodies pressed together, heat radiating from every point of contact. Tears, snot, and drool flowed freely, staining their faces and soaking their clothes.

Thus, the two men wept openly in each other’s arms in the middle of the hospital’s main road. It was an ugly sight, even they knew that. But they paid no attention to appearances; neither cared about the mess they must’ve made.

The distance between them shrank until there was barely any space between them at all, filled instead by their shared tears. Seojun and Johan clung to each other as if they couldn’t tolerate even the slightest gaps between them.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Jun, here. Ice.”

“Um, thanks.”

A soothing chill emanated from the ice pack Johan had just bought at the convenience store. Seojun cleared his throat and took the ice pack from Johan’s bandaged hands, pressing it gently against his red, swollen eye. “Does it still hurt a lot?” he asked softly.

“Ah, this?”

Johan glanced at his hands and replied nonchalantly. “It’s not that bad. It’s just a little itchy as the nails grow back and the skin heals. I can drive fine, I just didn’t like the medicine’s side effects.”

Seojun, cooling his eyelids, marveled at Johan’s resilience. If it were him, he’d be singing ‘It hurts, it hurts’ between bites of three meals a day, let alone driving.

Johan took the now-melting ice pack and tossed it into a nearby trash can. He carefully gave Seojun’s face a once-over before casually starting to walk ahead.

Seojun’s eyes widened as they stopped in front of a car that looked like a beetle, painted bright yellow. Its rounded shape made it look almost toy-like, hardly matching Johan’s style. Johan pulled the car keys from his pocket and unlocked the car with ease. Impressed, Seojun couldn’t help but ask, “Did you buy a new car? What happened to the one you took to the campsite?”

Johan flashed a lopsided grin, his swollen eyes crinkling with amusement as he opened the passenger door for Seojun. “This was my great-aunt’s. She gave it to me when she got a new one. And the car we used that time was rented.”

“Lucky you. I wish I had a car.” Seojun licked his lips in jealousy.

After sliding in, Seojun’s gaze drifted to the cute keychain dangling from the rear-view mirror—a cross and a small bear that must’ve been his great-aunt’s.

Johan caught Seojun’s stare and grinned even wider. “Cute, isn’t it, Jun?”

“Well. It’s just a bear.”

“You can detach the cross from it.”

A muscled arm brushed past him, carrying the scent of potpourri. Johan detached the cross from the keychain, holding the bear out to Seojun.

“Want it?”

On closer inspection, the bear turned out to be a fluffy-haired doll. Of course, as a grown-up, Seojun immediately declined.

“Johan, think about my age. And hurry up and let’s get going.”

“Taste only gets better with age, Jun.”

As Johan settled into the driver’s seat, he stuffed Seojun’s bulky sports backpack into the space between the seats. A long, cylindrical bag fell into the back seat, next to a toolbox that seemed out of place. Seojun raised an eyebrow, and Johan patted his shoulder.

“Buckle up, Jun.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Seojun, who was more confident than anyone else when it came to protecting himself, quickly turned around and buckled up. The Beetle started up smoothly, and a refreshing breeze blew in through the open window. They cruised along without a word, the only sound being the purring engine.

Seojun relished the silence. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d experienced a moment so meaningless yet so valuable. He’d been anxiously counting down the days until Christina and her friends went to the Hamon campsite for Independence Day. When the long-awaited day finally arrived, he didn’t even have a single moment to worry about the time, so consumed with surviving the day’s events. Had it been these seemingly insignificant moments he’d been missing out on all this time?

No, maybe not to that extent…

He shook off the thought, knowing it would only lead him down a rabbit hole of what-ifs. Instead, he revisited something in the back seat that piqued his interest.

“Johan. What’s with the toolbox in the back seat?”

“Oh, that?” Johan glanced back. “Christina gave it to me. She said it’d come in handy now that I have a car. Thought it might be useful to have stuff like a hammer around, you know? She’s got a point—it’ll be useful in various situations.”

“Ah, Christina.”

If it was a toolbox selected by her, it was bound to be filled with useful things. Seojun’s eye widened as he realized his oversight. How could he have forgotten about her until now?! He’d been so caught up in his own struggles, barely keeping his head above water, that he’d pushed everyone else to the back of his mind.

There were reasons, sure, but that didn’t make it right. He’d been stuck in the hospital, his frail body mending itself, but that was no excuse to forget the amazing Christina, who’d saved his life with her screams. Blaming his useless brain, Seojun urgently spoke to Johan,

“Johan, that’s right. that’s right. Christina. How is she doing? I mean, did she suffer any psychological shock? And physically? Wasn’t she hurt when we killed that monster?”

“Calm down, Jun. Well, Christina is…” Johan’s voice trailed off, his expression darkening. He hesitated, glancing at Seojun, who naturally became frightened.

As far as Seojun could remember, Christina had only sustained minor injuries. A few burns and bruises, nothing too serious. Bobby, who was next in line in terms of injuries, had taken a crossbow bolt through his leg. So when comparing the two, being in one piece was fortunate. But Bobby wasn’t significant enough to be Seojun’s main concern.

“What’s wrong? Is Christina hurt somewhere?” he asked worriedly.

Johan’s already pale face lost even more color, and he shook his head. “No, it’s not that. She’s… she’s fine, physically. Outwardly, she seemed the most unscathed among us. But that might be the problem.”

Johan sighed, and the story of the stormy period that had raged while Seojun was in his 1-week coma was told. “You’ve heard about the government and the soldiers, right Jun? They’re trying to control the narrative about the monster. Ah, stupid question. Yeah, of course you have. You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t signed that NDA.”

Johan’s mouth was moving a mile a minute, grumbling and explaining as he turned the steering wheel to the left. The familiar landscape slid by in the car’s windshield, signaling they were getting closer to their destination.

“They blamed everything on the Gas Mask duo, just like they said. And it’s not that far from the truth, if you ask me. But this is Wraithwood we’re talking about, Jun. The same place that produced Joe Rompelschtizen, that director Bobby’s won’t shut up about, and where Hannah O’Lantern and her friends died.”

Sensational headlines kept popping up one after another. The Frank brothers, who were believed to be inspired by the movie’s infamous serial killer, not only brought back the terrifying and bizarre deaths from the old Red Lake campsite but also reignited interest in Joe Rompelschtizen’s outrageous horror films.

The national frenzy over the serial-killing brothers was unprecedented. Everyone couldn’t stop talking about Joe’s movies again, and the rumors about the actress granddaughter being involved only added fuel to the fire, turning their quiet town upside down.

As the investigation went on, the personal lives of countless people were exposed and scrutinized one by one. It was unfortunate, yet somehow inevitable, that Christina, who had returned home first, became the center of attention.

Airi, who usually stood by her side, ended up in the hospital with broken ribs. William suffered a gunshot wound and Johan, with his mangled hands, were both in terrible shape and needed time to heal.

Christina, the only one who didn’t require hospitalization, was exhausted and longing for the comfort of her family. She survived a traumatic day that would have killed most, let alone a teenage girl. So who could blame her? Seojun certainly wouldn’t. He always cherished even the casual words Christina threw away as if they were sacred, always attentive to Christina’s needs to ensure her steps didn’t falter.

But even he couldn’t be in two places at once. And the world, unlike him, wasn’t so understanding. Even Christina’s stunning beauty became a topic of conversation. Accustomed to solitude, she sought refuge in her personal sanctuary, a shed filled with tools and machines, as her friends healed in the hospital. Only the company of oil, screws, and wrenches kept her sane. Johan finished the story gloomily.