Reborn as a Prophet in a Horror Movie

#079Reader Mode

#079

Deep down, Seojun had hoped his psychometry would be the key to unlocking the secrets of this place. But if this crossroads was truly the handiwork of a devil, one capable of such twisted and inexplicable feats…

The absurd rumors he had overheard at the restaurant about the devil now seemed like child’s play compared to the bone-chilling atmosphere that engulfed him. This devil, with its flippant attitude and silly requests, granted wishes as if it were all just a game, devoid of any real gravity.

In any other context, talk of souls might have been dismissed as a mere joke. But for Seojun, who held an unwavering belief in the soul, the concept of a devil was utterly terrifying.

Even in the 21st century, with information about devils readily available at his fingertips, the knowledge and memories lurking in the depths of his mind dragged him down a path of dread. Having brushed with death before, he knew to fear it, to avoid it at all costs. But the devil? That was an entirely different beast, an unknown entity. Like the inky darkness that shrouded the crossroads, Seojun couldn’t see what horrors might be lurking in that pitch-black void, leaving him deeply unsettled.

Compared to the bloody chaos of the Hamon campground, his body felt almost at ease here. At the camp, the line between life and death had been as thin as a razor’s edge. He had witnessed the raw components of the human body in gruesome detail – blood spurting from still-beating hearts, flesh strewn about like butchered meat, the heat of newly dead corpses warming his face. After running until the soles of his shoes nearly disintegrated, he had barely escaped that hellish nightmare alive.

But this place, this crossroads, was a different kind of torment. Rather than the frantic urgency of the camp, being here felt like slowly sinking into a swamp, completely paralyzed and bound. Despair crept in with an eerie leisureliness, suffocating him. The relaxed mannerisms of the green and red-eyed Doades only served to mask the true horror of the situation. There was no risk of being gutted or butchered here. No, this was a torment that would never end, a slow descent into madness.

Seojun’s spine tingled, his hand frozen mid-neck rub. Was it wise to carelessly attempt to read such an existence? Wouldn’t that just provoke its anger? His gloved palms grew clammy. Just when he’d barely stepped away from the primal fear of death, this had to happen… Seojun studied the girls before him, their eyes defiant and mouths blunt, knowing that among them, distinguishable only by eye color, lurked the devil. A metallic taste lingered as he licked his parched lips.

“Fine. I’ll grant your request.”

“You made the right decision.”

“Your decision came too late.”

Even their curt responses couldn’t shake Seojun’s resolve. His expression turned grave. He had no choice but to trust the cinematic rule that devils keep their promises. Reluctantly, he tried to recall even a single word from the drunkard’s rambling that he’d let go in one ear and out the other.

What did he say again? Something about the devil giving off a peculiar energy?

His hopeful gaze flicked between green-eyed Doade and red-eyed Doade, waiting for either to emit a malevolent aura. But they just fiddled with their skirt hems or scuffed the asphalt with their slippered feet, giving him vacant looks, devoid of any discernible energy. As his futile anticipation faded, a memory tickled his ear.

The devil with peculiar snake eyes…

Snake eyes. The middle-aged man had definitely said that. Slowly, Seojun lifted his drooping head. Mountain snakes often had strong protective coloration, blending seamlessly into their surroundings with the color of dried leaves or lush vegetation. Plus, snakes symbolized jealousy, and wasn’t green the color of envy? His gaze naturally turned to the girl fiddling with her skirt hem—green-eyed Doade, her expression slightly irritable and discontented.

Wind-puffed cheeks, bird-beak pout, twitching nose…

Wait, is that not it?

Doubt crept in, softening his once solid conviction. Green-eyed Doade’s expressions were all too human. It felt wrong to recklessly declare her the right answer. After all, he didn’t really get what snake eyes meant, so he had to be careful.

Seojun had never been one to trust his own brain, let alone put much faith in prophecies. His skepticism was especially strong given the hardships he’d faced fighting against the prejudice that, as an Asian, he should have a natural talent for math… Having finally made up his mind, he withdrew his ambiguous gaze and looked directly at the two girls before him.

“Okay, since it’s come to this, Doade and Doade,” he began, addressing both of them. “No matter how much you try to prove you’re the real one, I have no way of knowing for sure. So instead, tell me why your eye colors are different.”

Green-eyed Doade was quick to respond, eager to provide an explanation. “The eye color comes from my father’s side of the family,” she stated confidently. “My father, grandpa, and even great-grandpa all had noble and verdant turquoise shades.”

Not to be outdone, red-eyed Doade spoke up, offering her own justification. “The eye color comes from my mother’s side of the family,” she countered. “My mother, grandma, and even great-grandma all had beautiful shades of red, like a ruby!”

Seojun couldn’t help but notice their explanations were nearly identical, save for a few minor details. Green-eyed Doade’s eyes narrowed fiercely at the similarity, but rather than getting angry, she smiled brightly and began rummaging through her pocket.

“That’s right, I have a photo,” she announced triumphantly, holding out an old photograph. “It’s a picture of my whole family together.”

Seojun’s eyebrows twitched as he examined the evidence she’d presented. There were two glaring issues with the photograph that immediately caught his attention. First, as he’d expected, the image was in black and white, making it impossible to discern the true eye colors of Doade and her family members. Second, and perhaps even more problematic, was the fact that Doade herself had her eyes closed in the picture.

“……”

Seojun pressed his lips together firmly and shifted his gaze to the green-eyed Doade, prompting a derisive snort from her red-eyed counterpart, who shared an identical face.

“You’re such an idiot!” the red-eyed Doade scoffed. “I have a photo too, but I didn’t even bother showing it. It’s completely pointless.”

The red-eyed Doade’s statement held a ring of truth. In their current situation, the monochromatic photograph offered little in the way of substantial evidence.

The photo depicted Doade, fast asleep, yet her appearance was a perfect match to the girls standing in front of him. She was seated on a luxurious chair, a black ribbon holding her hair in place, as she reclined against the backrest. Her eyes were shut, as though she had drifted off into a tranquil slumber. Behind the chair stood two adults, presumably her parents, their gazes fixed straight ahead, unwaveringly. The floor was strewn with an assortment of toys—oversized dice the size of a child’s fist, each bearing a single eye, a game board, and a small ceramic doll peeking out from behind the chair leg, adding to the whimsical display.

The scene served as proof to Doade’s claim that her hobbies weren’t typical of children these days.

In stark contrast to the quaint setting, Doade’s parents wore somber expressions, their mouths set in rigid, unsmiling lines, and the skin around their eyes darkened. Had they not been grasping each other’s shoulders, as if seeking mutual support, Seojun might have been tempted to ask the reckless question of whether their parents’ relationship was in dire straits. Even their clothing bore an uncanny resemblance to the portrait within the locket, as though the entire scene had been meticulously staged for a concept photoshoot. As Seojun examined the photograph, which exuded an air of melancholy, he felt his own thoughts growing muddled and confused.

This is giving me a massive headache. What the hell are snake eyes supposed to be, anyway?

Much to Seojun’s chagrin, the girl in the photograph didn’t suddenly snap her eyes wide open, unlike the flesh-and-blood Doade standing before him. The picture of Doade stayed annoyingly still.

Seojun ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands on the nape of his neck as he struggled to make sense of the bizarre situation unfolding before him. The green-eyed Doade and the red-eyed Doade were locked in a battle of wits, each trying to outsmart the other.

The green-eyed Doade had put up a valiant effort to defend herself, but her overly eager attitude only served to raise suspicions about her innocence. It was as if she were a thief feeling the pinch in her own feet, making excuses before anyone had even pointed a finger. To make matters worse, the photograph she had presented with such confidence failed to prove that she was, in fact, human.

But the red-eyed Doade was no less of an enigma. She seemed content to mock her green-eyed counterpart, always a step behind in the conversation, picking at loose ends and leaving plenty of room for doubt. As Seojun agonized over the mind-boggling dilemma, to the point of developing a throbbing headache, the two Doades continued their verbal sparring, resembling a pair of squabbling animals.

“You evil devil!” one of them screeched. “Don’t you dare make that expression with my face! It’s disgusting!”

“You’re being ridiculous,” the other one said back. “Stop talking nonsense. Your shallow tricks have already been exposed. The die is cast!”

“How dare you quote famous sayings with such audacity?!”

Seojun abruptly ceased his hair-tugging when their words reached his ears. The bickering girls were reflected in his obsidian-like eye, their voices so uncannily similar that he couldn’t distinguish who was speaking. Had one Doade hidden and spoken, Seojun would have believed she was talking to herself. But what really mattered was what they were arguing about, not who said it.

“Die?”

The word scraped against Seojun’s parched throat as he uttered it. The red-eyed Doade’s gaze flicked towards him, followed by the green-eyed one, albeit with less interest. She crossed her arms, spitting venomous words at her identical counterpart.

But Seojun’s mind was consumed by a nagging thought. In the feverish recesses of his brain, a hazy image materialized—a heavily intoxicated man, barely able to control his body, clutching a straight back card. What did he say? Snake eyes. Only the number one comes up…

Seojun stared hard at the red-eyed Doade’s photograph still in his hands. Beside Doade’s chair leg, there was a die with a single dot on its surface. Its bright color matched the striking color of the eyes belonging to the woman who appeared to be Doade’s mother.

The devil had snake eyes. It was that simple. No metaphors, no hidden meanings.

As the two Doades bickered, Seojun observed the red-eyed one intently, taking in her sneering lips and piercing gaze. His heart pounded wildly in his chest.

He had found the devil.