Reborn as a Prophet in a Horror Movie

#151Reader Mode

#151

Where is all this screaming coming from?

Johan held his breath, eyes closing as he focused. A distant voice echoed through the walls—muffled, distorted, but definitely pissed off. He couldn’t catch the words, just the anger buzzing faintly through the house.

Eyes opening, he jabbed Madison’s shoulder. Her skin felt strangely firm under his fingertip, like dense rubber. He exhaled sharply. No matter how hard he prodded, she remained motionless, completely dead to the world.

“Madison,” he said, adding bite to his voice. “If you don’t snap out of it, I’m leaving you here.”

Nothing. Her glassy eyes stayed locked on some invisible point beyond the room, empty and distant. Her mouth—usually running nonstop—pressed into a rigid line. Alright. She wasn’t moving anytime soon. Johan pushed himself to his feet, absently brushing dust from his pants.

The moment he reached the hallway, the sound crashed over him—much louder, much closer than he’d expected. It echoed from deeper inside, behind the fifth door covered with rusted nails. Someone pounded at it from within, each impact rattling the nail-covered surface in its frame. He caught fragments of a woman’s voice—all fury and f-bombs. Sounded like she was trapped. Either the door was stuck, or she couldn’t budge it alone.

“Hmm…” Johan murmured, his gaze fixed on the shaking door.

Who was behind there? The real Madison Camry? The actual ghost he’d somehow managed to avoid meeting face-to-face? If so, opening the door might get him killed. Or maybe it was the dark-haired woman. The one who probably had the teddy bear.

Opening the door for a homicidal ghost? Yeah, that was definitely high on the list of bad ideas. But freeing the other woman? That could work in his favor. The mental balance tipped slightly toward action.

He looked down at his hand that still had the knife. If it was Camry, well… that’s what the knife was for. But if it wasn’t? If it was some terrified stranger?

Not ideal.

Standing in front of the shaking door, Johan rubbed his chin, thoughtful. Even he had enough common sense to know that waving a knife around wasn’t an ideal way to introduce himself. Definitely not looking to give off “potential murderer” energy.

Johan scanned the hallway for somewhere to hide to hide the knife, then paused, a spark of inspiration lighting his face.

With a satisfied little nod to himself, Johan spun on his heel and casually started back the way he came.

Moments later, he was back, hands empty now. Much better. He stepped up to the nail-covered door.

“Hello? Anyone in there?”

The screaming stopped instantly. Then came a frantic pounding.

“Get this damn door open!” a rough voice barked from the other side.

“Working on it! Back up!” Johan shouted back, grabbing the handle.

He threw his shoulder into the door. The top corner groaned, wood screeching as it twisted against the frame. Clearly warped and stuck tight. The knob spun uselessly, then finally clicked when something gave.

Johan grinned and kicked hard.

Rotten wood exploded outward with a cloud of dust and debris. The door slammed against the wall with a loud crash.

Through the dust, coughs echoed, followed by a figure stumbling into the hallway. The woman lurched out beside Johan, gasping like she’d been suffocating in there.

She definitely had a look.

Pale skin like she hadn’t seen daylight in years, heavy black makeup smudged beneath her eyes that made them seem even darker. Silver piercings lined both ears, another catching light from her lip. Her jet-black hair was choppy and uneven, falling in messy layers just above her shoulders.

Everything about her matched the classic alternative aesthetic—dark, sharp, unbothered. She wore an oversized black hoodie layered over a sleeveless top, ripped skinny jeans clinging to her legs, and heavy, studded boots that looked like they’d seen (and won) a few fights.

She inhaled again, deep and shaky, like the hallway air was the sweetest thing she’d ever breathed. Then she whipped around to face the door with fury.

“Piece of shit! Crappiest goddamn door I’ve ever met!”

After shaking her head, she finally noticed Johan there. Her death glare softened as she turned back, rubbing her shoulder.

“Anyway… thanks, man. Seriously. Thought I was gonna rot in there.”

“No problem,” Johan said, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

Thankfully, she wasn’t Camry. Didn’t resemble her in the slightest, or Madison for that matter. Actually, her lean build reminded him of Seojun. Those dark shadows under her eyes especially…

No, wait, Johan mentally corrected, giving his head a small shake. Lately—well, before he left Wraithwood—Seojun had filled out a little. His cheeks had gotten rounder, softer. Still not enough, though. Not by Johan’s standards.

That familiar obsessive urge flared up in his chest. The compulsive need to control every aspect of Seojun’s meals. To make absolutely sure he ate right—three square meals minimum, no exceptions. Forever, if things went how Johan planned.

While his mind wandered to these mildly unhinged domestic fantasies, the woman dug into her hoodie pocket. She pulled out a cigarette, but as her hand came back out, something else popped out too. Just barely visible, tucked in her pocket’s folds, was the unmistakable fuzzy head of a teddy bear.

Johan’s eyes widened. He stepped toward her, sudden and instinctive.

The woman jerked back, cigarette frozen halfway to her mouth. Her other hand shot up, palm raised. “Whoa. Back off.”

Her expression hardened. Eyes darted around the hallway, like she expected something to jump out of the shadows.

Johan stopped, raising both hands slowly. Not exactly easy to look non-threatening at his size, but he tried—eyes wide, expression carefully innocent.

She groaned, seeing right through it. Not buying the act at all.

Sighing, she found her lighter in her pocket. Click. A tiny flame sparked to life, touching the cigarette tip. The end glowed as she took a long pull. Her shoulders relaxed slightly, the nicotine hitting.

“Goddamn,” she exhaled, smoke curling toward the grimy ceiling. “Thought I was gonna die in that shithole.”

She punctuated her complaint with a hard kick to the door. The wood creaked, loose nails bouncing across the floor.

“You try going in there?” She waved her cigarette toward the door. “That place gives you instant headaches. And if that door swings shut on you? Total death trap.”

“Nah, haven’t gone in,” Johan said with a shrug. “And honestly, your review just killed any chance of that happening.”

Kira snorted—barely a laugh. She shoved her left hand back in her hoodie pocket and stuck out her right.

“Kira.”

“Johan.”

Her handshake was surprisingly firm—thin fingers but strong grip. When she pulled away, she took another drag, eyes following the smoke drifting up. Her voice stayed casual, but something sharper flickered in her gaze when it locked back on him.

“Listen, Johan. Thanks for the door assist. But let’s drop the pretense. What was with that sudden move toward me a minute ago?”

Johan nodded toward her pocket. “Because of the teddy bear.”

Kira raised an eyebrow and pulled the bear out. She held it in her palm. “This little guy?”

Johan leaned closer, eyes fixed on it. No doubt about it. The bear had the same faded fur and slightly crooked ear. The exact keepsake he’d given Seojun.

“Found it,” Kira said slowly, a big, almost gleeful smile spreading across her face. She was clearly attached to it. “Pippi, yeah? From that old chainsaw merch line? Super rare these days. Whoever lost it did me a solid.”

Johan hesitated before speaking. “Actually… that’s my friend’s.”

Her smile disappeared instantly. Kira’s eyes—already intense under all that dark makeup—turned ice-cold. She pulled the bear protectively to her chest.

“You saying I stole it?” Her voice dropped dangerously low, dripping with suspicion.

Honestly, Johan was confused. Who knew a random teddy bear would be such a hot item. But giving up wasn’t an option. If anything, he figured honesty, or at least convincing sincerity, was his best shot. He clasped his hands and put on his most earnest look, meeting her eyes.

“I didn’t say that. Look, the truth is, I’m here looking for my friend, Seojun. Heard he might show up here. And that bear belongs to him. Well, technically, it was mine first, but I gave it to him as a gift.”

His gaze flicked to the bear in her grip, then back to her.

“My aunt gave me her old car, right? Hanging from the mirror were two things—this bear keychain and a tiny crucifix. No clue why they were together. Anyway, first time I drove Seojun around in the car, he loved the bear. So I let him keep it.

“Oh, and the car? It was this bright yellow thing, kinda looked like a rhino beetle. But, uh… long story short, there was an accident and my cute ride was totaled. I lost everything except what’s in my bag.” He jerked a thumb at his backpack. “I don’t want to lose Pipi too. That bear’s all I’ve got left, so it’s very important to me.” He leaned in slightly. “Speaking of, have you seen him? Seojun? Tall, dark hair, slender, one black eye, red tongue? Really handsome, cute too, and—”

“Whoa, okay, stop!” Kira threw her hands up like she was blocking an emotional avalanche. She looked thoroughly creeped out, maybe even a little concerned about his intensity. “Okay, okay! Jesus. You want Pippi back that bad?”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Fine. You can have it. But let me snap a pic first—proof I found Pippi legit. Alright?”

Johan shut up, feeling a bit deflated. He could’ve kept rambling if she hadn’t stopped him. Then again, maybe oversharing worked. Kira seemed less combative now. More willing to negotiate.

She held up the bear, tilting her phone for the shot. “Honestly thought this was just some weird haunted house scavenger hunt BS,” she muttered, taking the photo. When she lowered her phone, her eyes met his, still skeptical. “Anyway, nah—haven’t seen your friend. Just found this thing dumped in the hallway. Also, ‘handsome and cute’? Which one is it? You know that’s not how that works, right?”

Kira scoffed, clearly unconvinced that someone could be both.

Johan suddenly remembered Madison’s advice: always show a photo. Right.

He quickly unzipped his backpack, dug out his phone, and thumbed through his gallery. “Here,” he said, holding it out. “This is him. The one with two legs.”

He zoomed in on a shot of Seojun mid-flinch, caught in the act of being smacked in the face by a guinea pig.

Kira leaned in, squinting. Her eyes darted between the screen and Johan’s face, disbelief creeping across her expression.

“You cannot be serious. You expect someone to ID him from this?” She jabbed the screen where fur and blurry movement created pure visual chaos.

“Well… someone did.”

Though Madison wasn’t exactly working with normal human senses. Johan’s shoulders dropped. He sighed, pocketing his phone. Just as it vanished, he added more out of habit than hope, “Oh, he also wears an eyepatch. Right eye.”

Kira’s fingers stilled on the teddy bear. The dismissive attitude disappeared, replaced by focus. Her eyebrows shot up.

“…An eyepatch?”

“Uh, yeah,” Johan said, caught off guard by her sudden interest.

“Shit.” She slapped her thigh. “So that’s the guy Luciel was supposed to meet? Okay. Yeah, I think I know who you’re talking about.”

She dragged her hand down her face, nails raking her skin like she could physically scrape away her frustration. Jaw clenched, mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Tch. Which means she’s already been and gone, right? Should’ve checked this shithole myself earlier…”

Johan watched nervously as her grip tightened on the teddy bear, black nails digging into the worn fur. For a second, he seriously thought poor Pippi was about to get decapitated.

“Who’s Luciel?”

Kira scoffed. “Someone I know. Complete wackjob. Swears up and down she’s got six wings.”