Reborn as a Prophet in a Horror Movie

#064Reader Mode

#064

The endless sky stretched overhead, a brilliant azure canvas without a single cloud in sight. The relentless sun beat down mercilessly, and Seojun could feel the sweltering heat scorching the soles of his feet ever since he stepped into the cornfield. Suddenly, the air shifted at the sound of the girl’s words, transforming from a suffocating furnace to an icy chill that pierced his skin. Each breath felt like inhaling shards of frozen air, and a sharp, frozen sensation lodged itself in his throat. Was this bitter cold merely an illusion?

Though instinct urged him to flee, Seojun found himself drawn to take a step closer to the girl. Only after escaping the clutches of the scarecrow did he recognize her voice as the one that had called for help.

“Was it you who asked for help?” Seojun asked, his voice trembling slightly.

The girl nodded, gaze downcast. “Yes, that was me. I’m so sorry. I never…meant to put you in danger on purpose. Really.”

Though not the lifeless corpse he had seen clinging to the walkie-talkie, the child before him was far from a picture of health. Her frail body was emaciated and gaunt. But at least this girl looked alive.

As Seojun cautiously approached, new details came into focus that had previously escaped notice. Her indifferent demeanor masked fear in her eyes, and her sullen expression hinted at deep sadness within. Like April, she paced back and forth before sinking to the ground, delicate ankles peeking from beneath tattered pants as skinny as Seojun’s own wrists.

“I’m sorry for pulling you into this mess,” the girl mumbled, hugging her knees tightly and burying her face. Unlike the malevolent aura of the deceased Laurens or April’s unwavering cheer, this child radiated weariness and exhaustion. As she whispered apologies, Seojun felt a pang of empathy and settled beside her. She turned slightly, acknowledging his presence.

“Hey, I got it. I’m not here to scold you,” Seojun said gently. “Let’s start over with proper introductions. I’m Seojun. Call me by my name, or even ‘uncle’ if you’d like. And just so you know, I’m not a germaphobe or anything.”

The girl’s brow furrowed in confusion. “You don’t look like an uncle. And what’s a germaphobe?”

“It’s because of my age. And it’s just a thing that exists. Don’t worry about it.”

He had chosen to trust her, just as when he first entered the cornfield. It wasn’t for any grand reason; he simply couldn’t ignore a child’s plea for help. The way her shoulders slumped with guilt tugged at his heartstrings. Sometimes, that’s all it takes to move a person.

The girl studied Seojun a moment before lifting her gaze to the towering stalks surrounding them, their uniform height creating the illusion of an inescapable prison. She took a breath and began.

“I’m Leah. I was supposed to be ‘Jules Guillot,’ but my dad insisted on ‘Leah Lauren.’ Ever since I was alive, I’ve been able to see dead people.”

Leah paused, her cheeks puffing out as she carefully considered her words. “It feels weird to say ‘when I was alive,’” she mused, her voice carrying a mix of innocent wonder and melancholy beyond her years.

Leah’s sensitivity to spirits had been part of her since birth, making her a challenging child to raise. Her gaze would often drift to seemingly empty spaces, and conversations with her could veer in unexpected directions. In the eyes of her biological mother Tracy, Leah’s behavior was undeserving of love.

“Mom had an affair with Mr. Bailey,” Leah confessed in a near whisper. “That was the first time I ever heard the word ‘affair.’”

Leah’s biological father had simply…disappeared somewhere. ‘Somewhere’ was an ambiguous term, a vague pronoun pointing to an unknown destination – the last wispy trace of the man who had helped create her. In his absence, Tracy and Bailey slipped seamlessly into the parental roles.

However, their moral compasses were skewed, foundations well askew of societal norms. With callous ease, the new Laurens decided to abandon Leah during a casual conversation about dinner plans, as the young girl huddled in the shadowed alcove of the attic stairs, her heart shattering with each careless word.

Tracy and Bailey’s cunning natures surfaced in their plan to discard Leah, who had no friends beyond the neighbor kid next door. They embarked on a trip, loading the van’s back seat with a fruit decorated kiddie bag and a rubber ducky better suited for a much younger child. Leah squeezed herself amid these misplaced items, her small body curled into the cramped space.

As Tracy gripped the steering wheel, her eyes never strayed to the rearview mirror. Instead, she engaged in lively banter with Bailey in the front passenger seat. Though separated by a single row, the emotional distance between them and Leah yawned like an insurmountable chasm.

Leah’s dark brown eyes – a reflection of her biological father’s, a feature Tracy so often lamented – glistened with a profound sadness. The gloom settling over the nine-year-old’s features stood in stark contrast to the vibrant scenery whipping past the window, a poignant reminder that she had no control over the family or appearance she had been born into.

The van cruised along the peaceful, almost monotonous road, flanked by an endless sea of corn stalks swaying gently in the breeze. The rich, green scent of the crop permeated the air as the unbroken landscape of the cornfield stretched out as far as the eye could see, unchanging even as the vehicle pressed steadily onward. Suddenly, Leah’s eyes widened as she spotted a child standing amidst the stalks, wearing overalls and gardening gloves, waving enthusiastically as if in greeting.

“Ah!” The sound escaped Leah’s lips before she could stop it, her face pressed against the cool window glass sending a shiver down her spine. In an instant, Tracy’s shrill voice shattered the moment.

“Leah!”

The reprimand caused Leah to flinch, her shoulders trembling as she pulled away from the window. Tracy’s eyes, visible in the rearview mirror, bore into her with undisguised irritation. The young girl lowered her gaze to the floor, her hand instinctively clutching her stomach where a walkie-talkie was secretly hidden beneath her shirt. But Tracy’s anger wasn’t about the device; she was merely seeking an excuse to lash out.

“Can’t you be quiet while I’m driving? If you’re going to spout more of your nonsense, you might as well keep your mouth shut. Haven’t you caused enough trouble for your mother already?” Tracy’s words cut like knives, each syllable dripping with venom.

Leah pressed her lips together, complying with the demand for silence. But even this seemed the wrong response, as Tracy’s fury showed no signs of abating.

“Look at her, not even bothering to defend herself because she knows she’s in the wrong,” Tracy scoffed, her tone filled with disdain.

Bailey, sensing the rising tension, intervened. “That’s enough, Tracy. Leah, don’t push your mother too far.” His voice was calm, almost soothing, as he turned to face Leah with a warm smile. But the glint in his dark eyes, reflecting Leah’s small image, made her shiver. Leah quickly averted her gaze, swallowing hard. She feared Bailey even more than Tracy’s explosive temper, for even at her tender age, she knew it was his idea to abandon her in the endless cornfield.

A suffocating silence fell over the van, tension thick enough to choke on yet utterly devoid of comfort. Without warning, the vehicle lurched to a halt on the lonely roadside, surrounded by an eerie stillness that seemed to stretch endlessly in all directions. In this disquieting quiet, Leah’s heart pounded furiously in her ears, a frantic drumbeat of dread. She silently willed the van to start moving again, desperate to flee whatever cruel fate awaited her.

But instead of turning the key, Tracy unbuckled her seatbelt, false cheer dripping from her voice like poisoned honey. “You know, a parent once abandoned their naughty child right here. Can you imagine the relief they must have felt?”

Her callous words hung in the air, reckless and cruel. No longer bothering to rein in Tracy’s malice, Bailey flung open the back door and gripped Leah’s thin shoulder, his face obscured in the van’s shadow despite the bright sunlight outside.

“Leah, sweetheart, daddy’s absolutely famished,” he said, his sickly sweet tone a thin veneer masking sinister intent. “Be a dear and go pick an ear of corn for us, won’t you?”

Leah’s small finger trembled as she pointed to a glaring red warning sign. “It says not to go in,” she managed to whisper, voice barely audible.

Bailey’s fingers dug viciously into her delicate shoulders, his grip unrelenting. “Leah, those rules are outdated nonsense. It’s perfectly fine to ignore them.”

Lies. Rules existed for a reason. They were meant to be followed. But Leah’s throat constricted, her mouth dry as a desert, rendering her unable to voice her protest. She bit her cracked lips, gaze fixed desperately on Tracy. Would it truly have been better if they had simply pretended she didn’t exist back home?

With shaky legs, Leah rose from the van’s seat and stepped onto the soft earth, her old sneakers sinking into the dirt as she moved toward the cornfield. A profound dread washed over her, as if she could sense the misfortune lying in wait, a feeling so deeply sad and sickening that it made her stomach churn. Without a moment to process the foul odor riding the wind, Leah crossed the threshold into the rows of corn, sealing her fate.

Her small body trembling, Leah grabbed the nearest stalk and shook it with all her might. The voices of Tracy and Bailey echoed in her mind and ears, urging her inward, deeper into the unknown. With each step, she felt torn – the urge to look back warring with the primal need to flee from it all.

Snapping out of her trance, Leah realized the Laurens had entered the field at some point. She watched in horror as they ravenously devoured the corn, eyes swollen and red, veins bulging grotesquely from the strain. They looked like ghouls, gluttony incarnate, bellies obscenely distended yet still they ate. It was clear they had lost their minds to an insatiable hunger.

Holding her breath amid the cornstalks, Leah’s heart pounded in her ears. The frenzy only ceased when a scarecrow appeared, its mismatched legs stitched together crudely. Wielding a pitchfork, it tore into Tracy and Bailey with a sickening squelch, shaking its shoulders in soundless laughter as it ripped out their innards, reveling in the gruesome act.

Leah covered her ears desperately, but it wasn’t enough to block out the screams of her biological mother and stepfather. The sounds seeped through her fingers, etching themselves into her memory. She wondered if closing her eyes would have spared her from the horrific scene, but it was too late. Every detail was already seared into her mind. Terrified and overwhelmed, Leah ran deeper into the cornfield, her surroundings blurring as she tried to escape the nightmare replaying in her thoughts.

When she finally came to her senses, Leah realized she had gone too far. She was lost in an endless sea of corn, unable to find her way back to the road. With shaking hands, she reached for her walkie-talkie, her last hope, but it only emitted a haunting static. Despair tugged at the corners of her quivering lips as she realized that even this final lifeline had failed her.

As the days passed, Leah felt her strength fade away, and she eventually starved to death.

“Mom, Mr. Bailey, and me… we’re just stagnant puddles here, rotting away in this place,” Leah said, her voice firm and heavy with the weight of her new identity as a deceased being. “If I can’t find a way to escape, April will catch me and turn me into his puppet. I don’t want that to happen.”

One name stood out to Seojun, its peculiarity demanding clarification. He cleaned out his ear, making sure he hadn’t misheard, and asked, “April?”

Leah nodded, her copper hair swaying gently with the motion. “Yeah, April.”

Seojun frowned as he described the person in question. “Are we talking about the same April? The one with the straw hat and overalls?”

“That’s the one,” Leah confirmed, her sunken eyes locked onto Seojun’s. “The evil spirit who killed my parents and wears the scarecrow’s burlap head.”

Seojun’s world turned upside down as he tried to process Leah’s revelation. “Wait, what? April is a ghost? Do you have any proof?”

Leah’s gaze never wavered. “Proof? He told me himself. He said, ‘Let’s kill the parents who abandoned us and become a family.’”

“What?!” Seojun exclaimed, jumping up from his seat in shock. The impact sent a jolt of pain through his bottom, and he rubbed it gingerly while grinding his teeth.

I knew it. That kid was too cheeky to be trusted!

T/N:

Me after working on this chapter: