Reborn as a Prophet in a Horror Movie

#094Reader Mode

#094

Johan watched the invisible footsteps creep across the towels, at first hesitant, like a dancer testing the stage. Only the balls of the feet touched the plush fabric, as if trying to remain undetected. But as the unseen intruder gained confidence, it shed its caution and sprinted towards Johan with a frenzied patter of steps. 

A searing wave of heat enveloped Johan’s skin as the presence drew near. Reacting on instinct, he lashed out with the knife in his hand, slicing through the empty air to fend off his ghostly attacker. Impossibly, the blade connected with something solid, quivering as it stuck in place, suspended by an invisible force. Johan’s grip went slack with shock, but the knife remained aloft, buzzing against his fingertips like it had pierced living flesh.

Blood began to ooze from the wounded emptiness, vivid crimson streams bubbling and spurting down the blade with increasing intensity. Johan recoiled, transfixed by the macabre scene. 

“Ah!” Johan gasped, barely managing to stagger back as a torrent of blood erupted from the wounded nothingness. The room was quickly flooded in a scarlet tide, every surface stained with a sickening red hue. The blood surged past the open doorway, spattering the walls and floor with an unholy abandon. The entire scene was both horrific and entrancing, a twisted masterpiece that left Johan’s blue eyes wide with shock and incredulity.

In mere moments, the once pristine Room 999 had become a gruesome slaughterhouse. Its bloodlust sated, the knife clattered to the floor. Even Johan, usually known for his composure, was at a loss for words. Drawn by morbid fascination, he crept into the bathroom and crouched by the knife, his stomach turning as he surveyed the carnage.

“Do I really have to clean up this mess?”

The future seemed pretty bleak. He could cut his losses and walk out of the Decoy Motel, leaving the bloody nightmare behind. But the consequences of abandoning his room in such a state were all too clear: he’d become a wanted criminal, hunted by the law. Had trusting that self-proclaimed devil been a massive mistake? 

Right as Johan was about to spiral into a rare bout of depression, a sudden, unexpected knock at the door startled him.

Johan peeked out from the bathroom, automatically checking the time. Just as he thought, way too late for visitors. But the uninvited guest kept knocking, the rhythm growing more persistent, more urgent by the second. The pounding on the door got louder and louder, like a relentless assault demanding his attention. Finally, Johan gave in, getting up from his crouched position to go to the door. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Who is it?”

“It’s housekeeping. Did you call for us?” a soft, weary voice answered.

Johan perked up. Having someone else deal with this disaster was tempting. Really tempting. He hadn’t actually called for cleanup, but this was too good an opportunity to miss. It’d be a convenient fix, and he’d definitely appreciate it.

“Hmm…”

But instead of opening the door, Johan hesitated. His heart told him to welcome the cleaner with open arms, but he shook his head, blinking back tears. If anyone else saw the state of the room, they’d report him for sure.

“No, I didn’t call for anyone. It’s alright.”

“……”

Silence fell, thick and heavy. Johan spoke again, trying to sound friendlier. “You can go ahead and leave. It’s okay.”

The cleaner wavered. “…Are you sure I don’t need to come in?”

Maybe the guy wouldn’t get paid if he didn’t put in some overtime. It sucked, but Johan couldn’t let him in. He replied with a hint of apology, “Yeah, I’m sure. Go on back.”

The cleaner’s response was a faint, grateful whisper. “Thank you…”

Johan absentmindedly scratched his cheek, wondering why the cleaner was so grateful. Did the guy hate his cleaning job or something? Curiosity got the better of Johan, and he impulsively swung the door open, planning to ask the cleaner directly. But the hallway was empty, like the man had vanished into thin air. Confused, Johan’s shoulders rose in a helpless shrug as he went back into the room.

But what he saw next left him even more baffled.

“What the…?”

In the brief moment he’d stepped out, the bloodstains that had been splattered all over the room had vanished without a trace. Room 999 was clean, as if he’d just checked in. 

Johan’s pulse quickened as a wild theory started to take shape. He covered his mouth, trying to contain his growing excitement. It seemed crazy, but somehow it felt right. His usually deep, steady voice trembled with anticipation.

“Jun, you won’t believe this… I think I just took down an invisible man!” he practically shouted.

He dropped to his knees, clasping his hands together like he was praying, his eyes shining with eagerness. This was a story unlike any other, and he knew Jun would find it way more interesting than some boring movie review. The drowsiness that had been creeping up on him, brought on by counting endless sheep, vanished in an instant, like a shot of espresso hitting his system.

Johan was a man of action, decisive and quick on his feet. Without hesitation, he started packing his few belongings, making short work of it. As he tidied the bed and gathered his things, a warm flush crept up his neck and cheeks, his bright blue eyes sparkling with anticipation. The prospect of reuniting with Jun lit a fire within him, burning hotter than ever.

“Ah, the tape,” he muttered, hand on the doorknob. 

Johan paused, glancing back at the VCR player thoughtfully. The shop would be closed this late, but hadn’t the clerk mentioned a pickup service? His dilemma was resolved in an instant.

“I’ll just leave it here for them,” Johan grinned, ejecting the VHS tape from the player.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Johan wasn’t surprised to find the video rental store closed, its lights off. He squeezed into his compact car, the engine rumbling to life. His destination was, as always, wherever Jun might be – a familiar routine on aimless nights. The unknown route didn’t faze him. It never had.

“Come to think of it, Melinda’s nickname was Lindy, too.” 

Life was full of strange coincidences. With a mental shrug, Johan pushed Ed and Lindy out of his mind, leaving only the invisible man’s story occupying his thoughts.

As Johan left the Decoy Motel in the rearview, his cute yellow Beetle merged onto Highway 4-4-4, becoming a small, determined speck on the road. The car raced into the distance, shrinking to a tiny dot on the horizon before vanishing from sight.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

*DING!*

The elevator doors slid open, revealing a short, happy-go-lucky man with an adorable grin showing off his prominent buck teeth. He bounced out, whistling a catchy tune like he was on top of the world.

This cheerful guy was the rental video store clerk.

He practically skipped down the hallway, his feet skimming over the grungy old carpet. He had a spring in his step, and it was infectious – a little shimmy here, a playful bounce there, as he danced his way down the hallway with an irrepressible enthusiasm that left his face flushed and aglow, only adding to his natural charm.

In no time, he reached his destination: Room 999. Quick as a flash, he whipped out a spare key and let himself in with a soft click.

This was a man of many talents and questionable skills: a hard worker, a guy with connections in all the right (and wrong) places, and a sixth sense for shady dealings. It all began when he stumbled upon something by pure chance: a cursed VHS tape—Lindy and Ed’s so-called “happy home video” as he would jokingly call it—found during a boring shift at the video store. What he didn’t know was that this random find would seal the fates of many unlucky souls to come.

The rules surrounding this tape were bizarre and knowing them was a matter of life and death. If you followed them to the letter, the tape would remain dormant, its malevolent energy contained. Clueless viewers could watch without a care, oblivious to how close they’d come to disaster.

But make one tiny mistake, misinterpret a single rule, and all hell would break loose. A never-ending nightmare would descend upon anyone foolish enough to mess up. The clerk, twisted as he was, found a sickening thrill in watching their suffering, as they became trapped in an endless cycle of terror within the confines of the tape.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t like he had it out for the people who walked into this trap specifically. The truth was, he just craved a thrill to liven up his monotonous existence. As long as he was safely out of harm’s way, watching others’ misery was his twisted form of entertainment. The last gloomy guy had barely escaped with his life, but those close calls were few and far between.

Grinning from ear to ear, the clerk couldn’t wait to see that handsome, muscle-bound guy reduced to a blubbering mess, screaming at the top of his lungs. He was sure the dude’s “adventure” was a wrap by now. He couldn’t wait to play back the tape and relive every agonizing moment. With a spring in his step, he sauntered into the darkness of Room 999, feeling pretty damn smug about himself.

A loud crunch jolted the clerk back to reality. He looked down to see that he’d accidentally stepped on a videotape case, shattering it beneath his foot.

“What the…?” he muttered, still staring at the broken tape.

But before he could process what had happened, the lights flickered on, and a warm, almost friendly voice echoed from the doorway.

“You’re finally here!”

The clerk’s head snapped up, his confusion deepening as he took in the sight of Ed standing there, dressed down in casual attire, his unruly black hair sticking out every which way, like it was having a life of its own.

“What…?” the clerk choked out, his brain racing to place the familiar yet unsettling face.

As he instinctively glanced back, his heart skipped a beat when he realized the door had silently swung shut, trapping him inside. Ed’s fingers closed around his wrist, the grip surprisingly gentle but unyielding. The clerk couldn’t help but notice the intense, almost cruel glint in Ed’s eyes, which contradicted his smooth, concerned tone.

“Damn shame, isn’t it?” Ed said, his voice as smooth as honey as he pulled the trembling clerk deeper into the room. “The fella who was supposed to stay has already bailed. It’s a real mess, I tell ya. You look exhausted. Why don’t I get you a cup of fresh coffee?”

“W-what’s going on…?” the clerk stuttered, his eyes darting wildly around the room as his heart raced like a jackrabbit in his chest.

He knew the “Real-Life Situation” tape like the back of his hand, every grisly scene etched into his memory from countless viewings. Every tenth time or so, the tape would default to the original recording: the drugged drink, the inevitable collapse, and the bed… His gaze snapped to the bed, and that’s when he saw her – Lindy, crouched like a venomous spider beneath the frame, her knife glinting in the dim light… the same knife she’d used to brutally carve up the poor cleaner.

The clerk stumbled backward, his entire body shaking like a leaf. His hands flailed wildly, as if possessed, while his feet seemed rooted to the spot. Tears and snot streamed down his face as he let out a desperate, anguished wail.

“No…no, no! This can’t be happening! Not me! I’m the one who watches, who laughs, who—”

Ed’s smooth drawl cut through the clerk’s panicked ramblings. “Not you? Best think again, friend. You gotta play by the rules here. When someone’s time is up, another unlucky soul takes their place. We’re in a bind, so it’s your turn to take the fall. That’s just the cold, hard truth of life.”

“No! This is insane! Why me? Why me?!” The clerk’s desperate screams and pleas bounced off the walls, but no one heard or cared.

He’d been hooked on “Real-Life Situation” for far too long, a guilty pleasure he’d kept hidden from everyone, even those he trusted most. But in a cruel twist of fate, the roles had reversed, and the one who once watched was now the main event, doomed to suffer the same hellish nightmare he’d once devoured with glee.

The irony was almost too much to bear. The ‘trivial’ hobby that had entertained him at the expense of others’ misery had come back to haunt him. It wasn’t as if the universe had it out for him specifically; it was just a fluke that he stepped on the tape, a sheer coincidence that now had him trapped in his own morbid addiction.

As he stood there, trapped inside the very videotape that had once thrilled him, time seemed to crawl at a torturous pace. Each tick of the clock felt like an eternity, a sadistic reminder of the unending horror that now stretched out before him like a never-ending abyss.