Reborn as a Prophet in a Horror Movie

#080Reader Mode

#080

Seojun finally had the answer. The red-eyed Doade was the devil, and the green-eyed one was human. Relief washed over him in waves, threatening to buckle his legs that felt like chopsticks. Exhaustion tugged at him, urging him to collapse right there at the crossroads, overwhelmed by this revelation.

Freedom… Freedom is so close!

A glimmer of hope sparkled in his left eye, and an exhilarating tingle danced on his tongue. His face twitched uncontrollably, as if he’d just popped a super-sour candy into his mouth. His soul yearned to leave this bizarre place behind, desperate to flop onto a soft bed and shout in victory. Yet, his weary body remained stuck at the crossroads, stubbornly refusing to join it.

With his last bit of strength, Seojun forced his soul and body to work together. He pointed at the devil, determined to expose its true nature. As he did so, something fell from his jacket sleeve and landed on the ground with a soft thud. His eyes darted to the sound, and he spotted a small object rolling in the dirt.

Wait, that’s not a bean. It’s a peanut.

The sight of the peanut, which he had grabbed with his gloved hand, seemed out of place at the devil’s crossroads. Seojun tilted his head at the absurdity of it. How had a peanut ended up in his sleeve?

Suddenly, he remembered the sheriff’s bulging belly and snow-white mustache. It seemed the sheriff had done more than just spit as he ranted. At the same time, the sheriff’s long-winded speech echoed in his ears. Realization dawned, and he crushed the peanut in his slender fingers. Peanuts are peanuts, not beans…

Peanuts, peanuts, peanuts!

His spirit, which had been curled up in a pathetic heap, whimpering, suddenly perked up. The fog that had been clouding his vision vanished in an instant.

Am I losing my mind? How can I afford to entertain such complacent thoughts when I should be groveling on the ground to survive?

Seojun cringed at the pathetic way he’d been acting. In a fit of frustration, he clenched his fist – still grasping the peanut – and punched himself in the cheek. The sound of the blow echoed in his ears as the taste of blood filled his mouth. A numbness spread across his cheek, followed by a throbbing heat.

“What…what are you doing? You’re a weird one, aren’t you?”

“Has the thought of being trapped at the crossroads driven you insane?”

Startled by Seojun’s sudden act of self-harm, the two Doades stopped bickering, exchanging whispered glances as if they’d forgotten their argument. Seojun fixed them with an intense stare, his one eye studying their identical faces and postures. Blood vessels bulged in his wide-open eye as he scrutinized every detail. The green-eyed and red-eyed Doades frowned, unsettled by his piercing gaze.

“Why are you staring at us like that?”

“Yeah, at least blink once in a while, will you?”

Undaunted, Seojun strode towards them, rapidly closing the distance between them. The pale faces of the two Doades came into even sharper focus. He opened his mouth and spoke with unwavering confidence.

“Doade, and Doade. I have the ability to see the past of anything I touch with my bare hands. And I’m going to use that ability to connect with both of you.”

“What? What kind of nonsense are you—”

One of the Doades wrinkled her nose in confusion, but Seojun remained undeterred. He took another step forward, his voice resonating across the desolate crossroads with unyielding conviction.

“If you, and you, are the real Doade, then you have nothing to fear from my touch. Am I right?”

As the wind rustled his black hair and his bloodstained lips curled into an unsettling smile, an aura of chilling beauty enveloped Seojun’s delicate features. He laughed, his slender frame exuding an eerie allure that could captivate even the most inhuman of sensibilities.

The green eyes met the red eyes, and in unison, they nodded. “Okay.”

Seojun peeled off his gloves, revealing long, pale fingers with pronounced joints. Two equally pale hands emerged from both sides, reaching out to meet his own. Seojun’s gaze was fixed intently on the hands, studying the identical scars. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his frustration.

“Okay, let’s take this one step at a time, please. Are you trying to fry my brain here? In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly firing on all cylinders right now, and my head’s already a mess. I need to make the most of what little grey matter I have left.”

“So, what exactly is it that you’re good for?” one of the Doades asked with skepticism.

“Well…” Seojun’s head dipped slightly, like a marble statue lost in contemplation. His fingers gently grasped the wrist of the green-eyed Doade, the smooth fabric cool against his palm. “I guess… tenacity?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

In an instant, the world plunged into absolute darkness. Silence and darkness reigned supreme, Seojun’s mind whispering softly in the void. The air seemed to thin, pressing against his chest like a suffocating grip. The endless expanse of the black void stretched out before him, threatening to swallow him whole. His heart raced, pounding against his ribcage as he struggled to breathe. Can this even be called existence? Wouldn’t it be more accurate to say there’s nothing at all? He didn’t know.

“Gasp!”

As Seojun released the hand of the green-eyed Doade, he exhaled a breath that had been trapped in his lungs, as if finally free from a suffocating grip. The girl stumbled back, blinking in confusion at his sudden outburst. To her, it looked like Seojun was just causing a scene for no reason.

The red-eyed Doade approached with purposeful strides, her slippers clicking against the ground. She looked down at Seojun, her lips curled into a sneer. “Now that I see it, your tenacity doesn’t seem all that impressive,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “If it’s this difficult for you, do you really need to check me too?”

Seojun, collapsed on the ground in a coughing fit, lifted his head to lock eyes with the red-eyed girl. Despite his haggard appearance, his gaze burned with intensity, refusing to back down from her challenge.

“Of course, I do.”

Seojun’s words were barely out of his mouth before he lunged forward, his fingers closing around the red-eyed Doade’s hand. Her light brown curls danced in the breeze, the soft tendrils brushing against the delicate skin of her neck. She pursed her lips, a gentle breath escaping toward her shoulder as she regarded him with half-lidded eyes. Her delicate nose and sharp jawline painted a striking picture of beauty mixed with danger.

But it was too much for Seojun to handle. He shoved her hand away, his stomach heaving violently as if he’d been punched in the gut.

“Blegh!”

The sound ripped from his throat as he clawed at it, his body convulsing with each uncontrollable retch. His mind reeled, assaulted by an overwhelming onslaught of clashing images and sensations the devil’s record had seared into his brain. A dizzying kaleidoscope of terrible brilliance, beautiful cruelty, disgusting kindness, sickening sweetness, and glorious foulness swirled behind his eyes, crushing his mind and turning his insides out.

A torturous urge consumed him, a desperate need to purge every last drop of bodily fluid, to grasp a weapon and tear open any orifice that connected to his insides. His eyes, nose, mouth, ears, genitals, and anus – all fair game without discrimination. The desire to rip himself apart and reshape his body into something new burned through his veins, setting his thoughts ablaze.

“Ugh, urgh…”

Seojun’s guttural moans filled the air as he struggled against the sinister and violent urge that gripped him. As quickly as it had come, the feeling mercifully dissipated, leaving him shuddering at the thought of what he might have done, even with just a peanut in his grasp, had his mind remained in that fractured state. Such was the sheer power of the devil’s record.

Seojun hauled himself up from the hard ground, his hand roughly wiping his mouth. The bitter taste of bile lingered on his tongue. His intuition had been spot-on after investigating both girls, the truth now undeniable.

The red-eyed Doade, no longer finding it worthwhile to hide her true colors, let out a slow, unsettling laugh. Her lips shifted into a perfect crescent, teeth gleaming like polished ivory in the darkness. Her eyebrows drooped as if regarding a pathetic creature, but the disdain etched on her features betrayed her genuine feelings, a mix of contempt and amusement.

The green-eyed Doade, her voice calm and measured, asked, “Have you figured out the right answer now?”

Seojun nodded, his hand swiping at the saliva trickling down his chin. “Yeah,” he mumbled, his words muffled by the sleeve of his jacket. His limbs felt heavy and exhausted, as if weighted down by an invisible force, but he knew that failing to answer would trap him at this crossroads indefinitely, a fate worse than death.

The pitch-black sky loomed overhead, the uncannily bizarre intersection engulfing him in its embrace. In the end, it had been the two Doades all along, their true nature revealed through the psychometric examination. This time, the pain was fleeting, replaced by a sense of relief and clarity.

Seojun fidgeted, his index fingers interlocking as he realized the magnitude of his mistake. He had been wrong from the start, his assumptions leading him astray. How lucky he was to have figured it out before his tongue betrayed him, before he sealed his own fate with a careless word! What he’d heard at the pub was a way to identify the devil, not a clue to finding who was human. The difference, though subtle, was ridiculously significant.

The sheriff’s words echoed in Seojun’s mind, a haunting reminder of the importance of knowing the rules precisely. He parted his blood-stained lips, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke.

“Here… at this crossroads, the only one among us who is alive is me.”

The ambiguity hung in the air, leaving room for doubt about the non-devil’s humanity. From the center of the crossroads, a low, husky voice slowly rang out, reaching the ears everyone. In perfect unison, one Doade and one devil responded.

“That’s correct.”

“Ugh…”

As if the acknowledgment had drained the last of his strength, Seojun’s knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the cold, hard asphalt again. The throbbing behind his eyelids intensified, a splitting headache that felt like the price or backlash of using his ability, overshadowing the pain of his butt hitting the ground.

The devil approached, her crimson eyes glinting with satisfaction. A pleased smile tugged at her lips, revealing her delight in Seojun’s response.

“How did you figure it out?”

Seojun’s gaze drifted past the devil, settling on the real Doade who stood motionless, her face rigid. She resembled a petrified tree, her reluctance to come into contact with the devil palpable in the way she remained rooted in place. Seojun’s eye looked at the photograph she held as he spoke.

“That photo, it’s a post-mortem photograph of a deceased person, isn’t it? I happened to research it recently. I’m referring to the post-mortem photography that was popular during the Victorian era.”

The reason for the girl’s closed eyes, as if in peaceful slumber, became clear. The Doade in the photograph was a corpse, a girl who could no longer open her eyes or engage in lively chatter. The somber expressions on her parents’ faces suddenly made sense. Doade quietly replied, her green eyes concealed hidden beneath her eyelids.

“It was pneumonia.”

“I see…”

The endless darkness that had come to mind when Seojun had direct contact with Doade now held a deeper meaning. It was likely due to the considerable time that had passed since her death. Seojun pressed his palm against his burning eye, the realization connecting everything together. The answer to the devil’s request, “Tell me who among us is alive at this crossroads,” had been incredibly simple all along. The scope designated by the devil included Seojun himself.

As the sheriff said, I should have properly listened to the rules from the beginning, he thought, the weight of the mental anguish that could have been avoided pressing down on him. His slender neck tilted weakly, expressing his exhaustion.

At that moment, the devil approached the utterly drained Seojun with a calculating gleam in her eyes. She bent at the waist, the corners of her mouth rising in a too wide smile that sent shivers down Seojun’s spine, her appearance not much different from when she had masqueraded as Doade.

“Since you’ve granted my request so well, I’ll grant your wish. Now, what is it that you desire?”

T/N: You were right Tatyana, it was a post-mortem photo. Psychometry is a cool ability, but having to experience what the victims felt while dying or even after death sucks. (´。＿。｀)