Reborn as a Prophet in a Horror Movie

#140Reader Mode

#140

The fact that the address for this house just happened to be Wraithwood Road only added to the strangeness of the situation.

“Oh my god, this has to be fate,” Camry gasped, slapping her hand over her mouth like she’d just heard the juiciest gossip ever.

Fate? Seojun wasn’t so sure. Just another random, bizarre coincidence in what was already shaping up to be another terrible day. He kept quiet though, just nodded while his fingers clenched around the doorknob to room six. Taking a deep breath, he pushed it open.

Dust hit them like a wall. It floated everywhere, coating every surface in gross, pale layers that made breathing feel like sucking air through a sweater. A single chair sat dead center of the room, looking both ordinary and ominous all by itself. Piles of picture frames were stacked in one corner, their faces hidden under a film of gray neglect. This wasn’t a lived-in room—more like a dumping ground for stuff nobody wanted anymore.

And obviously, Leimia was nowhere to be found.

“Leimia?” Camry called out, her voice still stubbornly hopeful as she checked behind the door. All she found were a few crusty paint tubes, caps off and completely empty. Definitely not where anyone would be hiding.

Seojun couldn’t stop staring at that chair. Without thinking, he picked it up, flipping it over while his forehead wrinkled. “This looks exactly like the one Bobby tied to…”

“What?”

“Nothing. Just talking to myself,” he said quickly, dropping the chair back down and turning to face her. Camry gave him a look but didn’t press. Seojun stuffed his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched like he was bracing for something unpleasant. “Listen, Camry, I need to ask something that’s probably going to sound like I’m being a jerk, but…”

“Why are you tiptoeing around it? Just say it.”

Camry tilted her head, flashing that smile of hers—warm and encouraging—the kind that made even the most awkward truths easier to say out loud.

“Do you think Leimia might’ve just… taken off? On her own?”

Honestly, from the little he knew about Leimia, it made perfect sense. Since they’d first met, she’d been like a human switchblade—all sharp edges and zero apologies. She was rude and seemed to make decisions based on whatever wild mix of impulse and recklessness popped into her head. She carried this insane confidence that Seojun secretly wished he had but could never pull off without feeling like the biggest fraud. Leimia ditching this place without even sending a text? Totally something she would do.

But maybe because they’d been friends forever, Camry straightened up and denied it without hesitation.

“No way. There’s zero chance she’d just leave by herself. She’s still here somewhere. I just… I don’t know where.”

Is this what the power of friendship does to people? Turns their brains to complete mush?

Seojun stared at her, caught between admiration and second-hand embarrassment. Even if he lived long enough to see flying cars and colonies on Mars, he’d probably never understand that kind of blind loyalty. The thought unexpectedly sent a sense of foreboding through him, making his shoulders tremble.

While he was zoning out with these dumb thoughts, Camry collapsed into the dusty chair with a sigh. The thing was filthy, but being tired had obviously won out over hygiene. She tapped her knee absently with one hand while rubbing her forehead with the other, her face tight with worry.

“My legs are killing me.”

That’s when Seojun noticed the dried blood on both her knees, rusty brown against her skin.

“When did that happen?” he asked, leaning in for a closer look. “Was it back in that room…?”

“Oh, nothing that dramatic. I tripped before I even found you. It’s fine.”

Then, like it just popped into her head, she added, “Hey, you’re probably thirsty by now, right?”

Camry pulled out her thermos again and gave it a little shake in his direction. Seojun’s face turned into a war zone where being polite battled it out with being disgusted. Earlier, he’d said no because coffee on an empty stomach might make him nauseous. But honestly, once his brain had created this image of bacteria having a wild party in that container, he couldn’t un-see it.

All he could think about was some invisible germ city thriving in there—something his stomach would absolutely revolt against. He tried to come up with a way to say no without sounding rude, but his face must’ve given him away because Camry let out a laugh, soft but knowing.

“What’s with the look?” she teased. “You think I spiked it with poison or something?”

“Uh…”

She giggled behind her hand, clearly finding her joke way funnier than he did.

Seojun, though, didn’t laugh. His face scrunched up like he’d just bitten into an unripe persimmon, and Camry’s smile withered.

“Jesus Seojun, I wouldn’t actually poison anyone,” she pouted, sounding somewhere between offended and embarrassed.

An awkward silence fell between them—that special brand of uncomfortable that happens when two people who barely know each other get stuck in a conversation neither wants to have. They exchanged glances full of unspoken awkwardness, both suddenly fascinated by literally anything else in the room.

Maybe I should just drink the damn coffee. How bad could it be? People drink from questionable containers every day and survive, right?

Just as his fingers reached toward the thermos, a loud thud shook the floor beneath them. The sound rumbled through the floorboards, up through his shoes, and straight into his chest.

Seojun froze mid-reach, his head snapping up toward the door. Across from him, Camry hunched forward, her eyes huge with fear and locked on the closed door. She blinked fast, her voice a whisper.

“What… what was that?”

“No idea.”

But one thing was for sure: they couldn’t waste any more time just standing around.

The tension that had disappeared during their silly argument came rushing back, their bodies going stiff as they prepared for whatever fresh nightmare was waiting on the other side of that door.

Seojun scanned the room, looking for anything useful. The picture frames? Worthless. They’d just break if he tried to use them as weapons. The chair? Maybe good for one desperate throw, but was it worth possibly attracting whatever made that noise?

Without thinking twice, he grabbed Camry’s arm and pulled her to her feet.

“Camry, we can’t stay here. This room’s just as bad as being trapped in that dark one earlier.”

Room six had been a total bust. Unless they felt like testing their luck jumping from a second-story window, their only way out was back down those stairs. Both options sucked, and this room wasn’t giving them any advantages either.

“We have to leave. At least the two of us,” Seojun said, his voice flat and final.

He didn’t like crushing Camry’s whole friendship-conquers-all fantasy, but survival wasn’t something you compromised on just to spare someone’s feelings.

Camry shook her head, her hair swinging gently, eyes getting watery as she grabbed his sleeve. “No, please. We haven’t checked the first room yet. It has a window, so if things get bad, we can just climb down using the ivy growing up the wall. Just one more room before we leave. Please, Seojun.”

“……”

Honestly, Seojun didn’t feel any special obligation to make sure Leimia was safe. But finding her was the only way he’d get back what he came for.

He met Camry’s begging look, those dark eyes huge and desperate, and gave a reluctant nod. If he wanted that teddy bear back, he didn’t have much choice.

“Fine. We’ll check the first room, but if Leimia’s not there, we grab your stuff and get out of this place. Fast. Honestly, if she’s not there either, it’s pretty obvious she ditched you and took off on her own.”

“…Okay. If she’s not there, we’ll leave and stay away from that creepy person downstairs.”

Camry chewed her bottom lip until it looked raw before finally giving a stiff nod.

With that settled, they crept toward the first room, stepping as lightly as possible. Still, the old wooden floor complained beneath them, each creak sounding like some old man’s raspy breathing. Seojun’s heart hammered so hard it felt like it might explode out of his chest.

Luckily, neither of them was heavy. They moved like birds, quick and light, slipping past the closed door of the second room. Seojun stopped at the top of the stairs, ears straining. A woman’s voice floated up from below—cold, unfamiliar, and chilling him to the bone. He swallowed, his throat dry with fear.

Was that the stranger with the knife Leimia had mentioned?

He waved Camry toward the first room’s door. The woman downstairs wasn’t coming up yet, so this was their chance.

Camry’s face had gone pale, her hand visibly trembling as it wrapped around the doorknob. The hinges let out a long, painful whine as the door slowly opened—

Something white flew at their faces.

Seojun’s strangled gasp caught in his throat as a hanging doll swung straight at them, its face locked in a deranged rictus grin. It was pure luck he didn’t trip and go tumbling down the stairs. Instead, he stumbled backward, his head cracking hard against the wall.

***

“…Hm?”

Johan tilted his head, hearing the loud thud of something, or someone, hitting a wall. He straightened up from his slouch, eyes darting to the old wooden door, but it stayed closed.

“Madison stub her toe again?” he mumbled, dismissing it with a lazy shrug. In this beat-up old house, who else would be stomping around like they owned the place?

Just minutes earlier, Madison had tripped and snapped the heel of her shoe while in the room with all those headless dolls. Of course, she’d thrown a total fit, cursing the shoe like it had personally betrayed her entire bloodline before turning to Johan with that look—the one that said he existed only to make her life easier.

“Since my foot’s like this now, make yourself useful and grab my phone from the second room upstairs,” she ordered, like his obedience was just expected. She’d even micromanaged exactly how to find it: “It’s perfectly positioned between those two bags. You literally can’t miss it unless you’re blind.”

It was such a trivial task that Johan didn’t even bother arguing. Still, he couldn’t help wondering…

“What on earth could Jun possibly find attractive about her…?”

Johan was deeply troubled by this question. Madison was pretty enough, sure, but her personality left a lot to be desired. If he really tried — like, really tried hard—he might find the tiniest bit of charm, maybe as thin as a cat’s whisker. But how long should someone look before admitting there’s nothing worth finding? He sighed heavily.

“Maybe I should start wearing a skirt too? Oh, there it is.”

Before his brain could jump to completely the wrong conclusion, Johan spotted the phone. Right where Her Royal Highness had said it would be, perfectly positioned between the bags. When he picked it up, the screen lit up. Guess she hadn’t turned it off all the way.

“Hm?”

But then the screen went dark, like his finger had accidentally touched something. A second later, the display shifted with movement, and it took him a moment to figure out what he was looking at.

A video. Madison had been recording something.

At first, all he could see was a dark blur—fingers or a shadow covering the lens. Then the darkness pulled away, and Madison’s face appeared like a ghost rising from the deep as the image came into focus. Her expression was empty, almost vacant-like, until her lips suddenly split into a grin. Razor-sharp and unnervingly wide.

“The day has finally come,” her voice whispered through the speaker.

Madison stared directly into the camera, her eyes fierce and hungry, pupils glinting in the darkness with an eerie light. She adjusted the angle several times, only stepping back when satisfied with the framing. Unlike the flashy sequined top she wore now, her shoulders were bare in the recording. Her head lolled to one side lazily, lips pursed, eyes half-lidded. Her expression looked almost like she was… savoring something.

“The day Madison Camry belongs to me. Entirely. Finally. You can’t even begin to imagine how long I’ve waited for this moment. I almost lost everything. I almost died. God, I kept telling myself ‘Not here. Not yet, not yet, not yet.’ And now… now I finally succeeded!”

Her words tumbled out in a frenzied, almost fevered rush. She abruptly turned toward a mirror just as the door creaked open, and another woman stepped into view.

The resemblance was uncanny—she could have been Madison’s twin, with the same delicate features, chestnut-brown hair, and slender frame. But there was something softer, more reserved about her. Her outfit was modest, and she didn’t seem to notice the hidden phone recording everything. Her eyes were fixed on Madison, her lips parting hesitantly.

“Leimia, did you look in the mirror? What do you think?”

T/N: I have to share some more of my favorites! Please go follow and support Bikoyaki when you can! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

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