Reborn as a Prophet in a Horror Movie

#066Reader Mode

#066

“Hmm…” Seojun mulled it over, realizing confronting the murderous scarecrow, Tracy, and Bailey like this made more sense than trying to punch them. His weak fists would likely just leave him with broken fingers rather than accomplishing anything.

As he considered their chances, Seojun’s eyes met Leah’s. Despite being a ghost, her gaze shone with unmasked anticipation and hope. Noticing him looking at her, Leah pressed her lips together and bowed her head, as if trying to hide her emotions.

“You know, stuff like this doesn’t happen too often,” Leah explained. “At least, I’ve never seen other ghosts I’ve met do anything as terrible as what April did.”

She let out a little sigh, more from habit than necessity.

“Usually…I mean, if this wasn’t such a strange place, directly confronting ghosts wouldn’t be the best idea. It’s better to take time and try to understand the story behind how they died.”

There was a weight to Leah’s words that spoke of experience and the competent look on her young face reminded Seojun of a skilled exorcist. The irony that Leah had accumulated so much knowledge at her age, only to become a ghost herself, struck him. Curious, he asked, “Leah, were you like an exorcist or something when you were alive?”

Considering how young she was, maybe it wasn’t a profession, but some kind of involvement in that field. Leah shook her head gently.

“I didn’t do crazy stuff like in the movies. It’s just…since I could see them, I wanted to help out. So I looked into different things, even weird topics like post-mortem photography, which isn’t really related. Funny, would my baby photos count as post-mortem now? My mom took some when I was little.”

“Well, the photos were taken when you were alive, so…”

Seojun fumbled for words, struggling with this strange reality where Leah could talk and move like the living, yet was no longer among them. Meanwhile, the Leah preserved silently in photographs would still radiate a sense of life. Noticing his speechlessness, Leah gave him a bittersweet smile, too mature for a child.

“I couldn’t help it at first. I’d talk to them because I couldn’t tell they weren’t alive. Later, it was because I felt lonely. Of course, having a real conversation was impossible – they were like broken radios, just repeating the same things over and over. So naturally, I got curious about their stories, about why they died. With all the information available these days, it wasn’t too difficult.”

Leah carefully enunciated “information available,” as if tackling a challenging phrase.

“Information available…”

Those words made Seojun furrow his brows, prompting him to dig deeper.

“Wait, are ghosts’ memories of their lives really that important?”

“Absolutely,” Leah replied, ignoring any hidden eagerness from Seojun and maintaining a serious expression.

“Think about it, am I made of sugar or spice? No. I don’t have a physical body anymore. What I do have are my memories. Like I’ve been saying, understanding someone’s fears and emotions at the moment they died is important because for the dead, memories form the shell that replaces their body.”

“A shell…”

“And that’s not all. Knowing the stories behind the dead helps get rid of the fear we have of them.”

“The fear goes away?”

“Yes.”

Leah’s ghostly fingers pointed up at the sky, the sunlight making her tiny nails look translucent.

“Way back when, people thought thunder and lightning were punishments from the gods, and they were terrified of it. But we live in modern times now…well, those who live in modern times know it is just a natural thing. Once we understand the science behind it, we don’t tremble in fear like they used to.”

Seojun couldn’t really relate. He’d always kept his distance from science, only feeling comfortable with a handful of subjects. But he had enough sense to stay quiet and listen attentively to Leah’s explanation.

“If science can explain thunder and lightning, then exploring souls is like digging into a record of the past. Only when we’re free from fear can a soul simply exist as a soul. If unnecessary baggage latches onto them, souls gradually warp into something else. And that’s just sad.”

Seojun remained silent, finding it hard to argue with someone who had experienced death firsthand. A chilling sensation, like an icy finger, stroked his eyeball. Could such a crazy coincidence really exist? But as always in Seojun’s life, disliking something was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Hadn’t he already made plenty of shameful choices just to survive?

Leah, however, frowned and hesitated before drawing lines in the dirt with her toe.

“It’s gonna be tough to figure out what their shells are made of in a situation like this. That’s why I think we should focus on the murderous scarecrow’s belly, on April’s core.”

“Why the belly specifically?” Seojun asked.

“Think about it, Uncle. The moment we die, we lose what we had forever. That’s a profound loss, and loss can lead to obsession…I read that in a book somewhere. You said it yourself, Uncle. Mom and Mr. Bailey were obsessed with eating. April is obsessed with cutting bellies open. So what April did to my parents must have had some deep meaning. Maybe April died of hunger too. There’s a good chance he hid my hand inside his stomach.”

“Isn’t that right?” Leah looked up at Seojun with wide, nervous eyes.

Seojun considered her speculation. It seemed to make a twisted kind of sense, all the pieces clicking into place like a macabre puzzle.

But was that really enough? If understanding the dead was so crucial, they needed to uncover the raw, unfiltered truth. Not someone’s interpretation or lies, but the reality as seen through their own eyes.

And Seojun could witness that truth firsthand. His missing eye throbbed, and he pressed his palm against the lid, feeling the hard prosthetic beneath. A constant reminder of what he’d lost – and gained.

“Uncle?” Leah’s small voice broke the heavy silence.

Seojun met her expectant gaze. Ghost, specter, spirit…it didn’t matter what you called her. Leah was dead. Not even an evildoer, just a kid who’d never grow up, never experience life.

The old Seojun, the one before he lost an eye, would’ve abandoned Leah without a second thought. Back then, he only cared about himself and his own survival, no matter what it cost others. But now? Shame burned through him as he remembered the person he used to be. He’d been a fool, a miserable madman even.

Was that why he couldn’t face Johan’s love, so pure and unconditional? Johan saw right through him, past the surface to all his sins and flaws…it terrified him more than walking down the street naked. Seojun couldn’t face Johan. He wasn’t brave enough for that. It gave him a reason though. So he ran, making up excuses about chasing long-lost dreams as he drove off into the night. And that’s how he ended up here.

Gently, Seojun stroked Leah’s hair, the coarse strands dry against his gloved fingertips. Her presence felt…muted somehow. Faded, like she was slowly slipping away from this world. Was it because of his gloves, acting as a barrier? Or was it simply the inescapable difference between the dead and the living, no matter how vivid they appeared?

“Leah, I’m about to do something strange. But don’t worry, I’m not crazy…”

For the longest time, Seojun had longed to become someone he could be proud of. He removed his gloves and dug his bare hands into the dirt floor, grasping at the dangling entrails. The decaying organs felt damp and unpleasantly squishy against his fingertips, like a frog’s belly. A flash of lightning seemed to spark behind his closed eyelids.

“Ugh!”

It felt like he was hanging upside down, being violently shaken. Could anyone even begin to describe the discomfort of having their insides stirred, their intestines straightened, and then carelessly shoved back in? The organs slipped from his grasp, hitting the ground with a sickening thud, but he couldn’t bring himself to look.

“Uncle?” Leah’s concerned voice reached him.

Seojun barely had the energy to respond, weakly waving her off as he crawled on his knees, feeling more zombie than human.

“Leah, stay back. Don’t come near me, blargh…”

He couldn’t hold it back any longer, vomiting violently. Leah hovered awkwardly, averting her eyes as he retched and gagged extravagantly. Even in his miserable state, Seojun’s mind drifted to pointless thoughts.

Is it okay to puke in someone else’s field? But with evil spirits and monsters running wild, isn’t the owner neglecting this place too much?

After emptying the contents of his stomach until bitter bile burned his throat, Seojun collapsed into a sitting position, legs crossed. His eyes stung, and his throat was raw, but a strange sense of accomplishment washed over him, having purged himself so thoroughly and cleared his muddled emotions. He swiped a hand across his mouth and turned to the fidgeting Leah.

“Yeah, you were right, Leah. Knowing a dead person’s past is important.”

Enduring that gory replay vision was worth it. Seojun slipped his gloves back on and smacked his throbbing head a few times. His skull ached, but his jumbled thoughts finally cleared. With a tired expression, he placed a hand on Leah’s shoulder.

“I know where he hid your hand.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

April was bored, having lost his newfound plaything. He hated feeling idle. Even when alive, he’d been the type to act on his desires openly. If he wanted to steal, he stole. If he wanted to kill, he killed. He couldn’t understand those who wouldn’t do the same.

His most prized possession was himself. Everything else was just an accessory. Other people’s emotions—their laughter, tears, sadness, or joy—meant nothing to him. They were someone else’s problem, not his.

So, when he faced punishment, his rage knew no bounds. He was furious he couldn’t tear apart the mouths of his parents, who, unable to tolerate him any longer, claimed they’d done enough. Parents were supposed to cherish and side with their children unconditionally, forever.

“Isn’t that right? You were really bad parents,” April sneered.

“Y-y-yes, that’s r-right,” Tracy agreed, her jaw hanging unnaturally.

“C-correct, co-co-correct,” Bailey chimed in, tongue lolling.

“I wish Leah would get here already. You two are useless.”

“R-ri-right,” Tracy stuttered.

“Tr-true, true w-words,” Bailey affirmed.

As the hideously disfigured couple moved like marionettes, April sighed deeply. Their bodies were so mangled, they could hardly be called human anymore. Maybe from all the endless running he’d forced on them. Well, they’d been in use a long time. April muttered to himself, thoughts darkening.

It was impossible to have an intelligent conversation with a broken toy. Of course, April hated the Laurens for being bad parents, so he wouldn’t have been happy talking to them alive or dead. April harbored a deep hatred for parents who abandoned their children. Given the chance, he’d kill them all.

“It was my misfortune that you crossed paths with me after I had already gathered all the legs I needed.”

“Right, right, right, co-corー.”

In one swift motion, Bailey’s tongue was severed. April crushed the bloody flesh under his numerous stitched legs – legs that once belonged to others unlucky enough to wander into his cornfield domain. A weary sigh escaped him as he realized his hasty action. After collecting as many legs as he required from hapless wanderers, no other unsuspecting victims dared venture near. The arrival of the Lauren couple and little Leah was nothing short of a miracle.

His joy was fleeting, however, as the Laurens inadvertently triggered one of April’s old traumas…By the time he regained his senses, the bellies of Tracy and Bailey already lay split open by his hand.

But Leah, the Laurens’ young daughter, held a special place in April’s dark heart. She had suffered the same cruel fate as him – abandoned by her parents, left to starve in this cornfield. Only Leah had the right to feel a kinship with him.

Though Leah kept running away from April, how much longer could the mere child evade him? As long as Leah couldn’t reclaim her remains, she was trapped, just as he was. April had planned to wait patiently, but his patience was wearing thin. He was accustomed to following his desires, and even compared to a four-year-old child, April’s self-control was sorely lacking.

Just as he contemplated seeking Leah out himself, the towering cornstalks rustled. A hand wearing blue latex gloves emerged from between them. April’s lips split into a sinister grin. There was no need to move his cumbersome body. Leah, and a fresh new plaything, had willingly wandered right into his grasp.