Reborn as a Prophet in a Horror Movie

#058Reader Mode

#058

Seojun’s noble determination to save the girl dissipated like a puff of smoke within three minutes of venturing into the cornfield. The towering stalks, which had seemed intimidating from afar, now loomed over him, making him feel as insignificant as an ant. As a man of above-average height, he wasn’t used to feeling this small. He couldn’t shake the nagging thought that perhaps he’d made a grave mistake by coming into the dense field alone. The text he’d sent to emergency services provided some comfort, but the urge to turn tail and wait for their arrival tugged at his heels.

Help me…… Please…….

The frail voice of the young girl, louder and more desperate than before, echoed through the stalks, carried by the wind. Seojun’s heart pounded in his chest, but he couldn’t just leave her. He craned his neck, straining to see through the green maze, and shouted back.

“Stay where you are! Don’t move! I’m coming!”

Pushing through the rustling stalks, Seojun hurried toward the cries, nearly tripping as his limited vision made navigating the uneven ground tricky. Having lost an eye, he’d adapted to his altered depth perception by exploring new terrain daily as a hobby. The leaves brushed his cheeks, guiding him toward the pleading voice.

Help me, help me, help me…….

As he pressed on, the sweet grass scent shifted to something earthier and more pungent. Emerging from the towering green sea, Seojun stumbled into a perfect circular clearing. The ground, now a lifeless void, resembled crushed coal rather than soil. And there, curled in the darkness – a heartbreaking sight met his eye.

In the center of the black expanse, a child lay curled up in the fetal position, wearing a black shirt and gray knee-length shorts. The tiny figure seemed so out of place in the eerie landscape. Could this small, lifeless body be the source of the desperate cries? But that didn’t make sense by any stretch of the imagination when you looked at the kid.

Seojun stood alone on the bizarre coal-dark soil, his heart pounding in his chest. A shuddering breath escaped his tight throat as he stared at the child’s body, unable to look away. The surrounding stalks whispered in the wind, the only sound in the oppressive silence.

The corpse, mummified by time, clung to the last traces of humanity. Leathery flesh stretched over delicate bones, and a dark copper ponytail remained tied at the fragile neck. Empty eye sockets and a slightly open mouth made it impossible to guess the child’s final expression. A chill ran through Seojun as the shock set in. It was clear the child had been here for a long, long time.

In the child’s crooked arms lay an untouched walkie talkie. The left hand dangled limply, fingers bent at unnatural angles, while the right wrist was reduced to a gruesome stump. Seojun’s features twisted with revulsion and sadness as he took in the pitiful sight.

The heavy silence was no longer broken by desperate pleas for help. The child’s horribly decomposed body made it impossible to determine how long ago this tragedy had occurred. As sadness washed over him, something more sinister crept in—a crawling sense of familiarity with the reek of drying blood. Phantom scents swirled with memories of Gas Mask, Monster X, and the soldier, filling his nostrils with a sense of foreboding.

Beat-up sneakers scuffed the dark ground as Seojun stumbled away from the tiny body, his wide eyes unable to look away. The rustling corn grazed his neck, sharp leaves raising goosebumps on his skin. Fear should have frozen him in place, but the external stimuli propelled him forward. Wheeling around, he plunged into the sea of undulating green stalks, his pace quickening with each panicked step.

“You idiot! Why did you even come here? I must be crazy!” he panted, his curses intertwined with self-doubt. His poor stamina cut off any further self-scolding as he gasped for breath.

With trembling fingers, he fumbled for his phone, its smooth case barely steadying his shaky grip. The device that had always been a modern necessity now proved surprisingly useless. The screen flickered once before going black, a mocking “No Service” icon draining the remaining color from his already pale face.

Seojun grimly scanned the endless field of swaying cornstalks, the realization sinking in like a stone—he was well and truly lost. Though he had entered the field straight from the road, chasing the mysterious cries had only changed his direction slightly. He decided to retrace his steps, confident that it would lead him back to the safety of his truck.

But the opening to the road never appeared. No matter which direction he turned, he found himself surrounded on all sides by an impenetrable labyrinth of cornstalks, the way back eluding him at every turn. He was trapped, lost in a never-ending maze. The stalks brushed against him with every step, their sheer density feeling like chains, holding him captive in this nightmarish green prison.

Seojun wiped away the frustrated tears streaming down his face, mixing with the sweat that drenched his skin. The relentless sun beat down on him, making his blood boil and the air feel suffocating. He tightened his jacket around his waist, trying to steady his nerves. Glaring at the cloudless sky, he ground his teeth, cursing the sun’s intensity that seemed to bore into his skull. Suddenly, a glint caught his eye – a metallic wink among the cornstalks.

“Ah.”

It was a scarecrow.

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Using the scarecrow as a landmark seemed like the best idea, even if Seojun couldn’t quite remember where it was in relation to his truck. With no other options, he held onto this thin thread of hope, as flimsy as it might be.

The scarecrow’s height worked in his favor, making it visible above the ridiculously tall cornstalks. Seojun stood on his toes, and the scarecrow’s burlap head came into view, bringing a small smile to his face despite sweating like a dog in the oppressive heat.

He stumbled towards it, the crunching dirt and grass making each step unsteady. Blinking away the stinging sensation in his good eye, he kept his gaze locked on the scarecrow to maintain his course. At first, it seemed more like a mirage than a solid form, but with each shaky step, it became clearer.

Finally pushing through the whispering stalks, Seojun entered a small clearing. The sweet scent of grass still hung in the air, but now a sharper smell tickled his nose. The thought of decay crossed his mind, but the soil beneath his sneakers appeared undisturbed, unlike the dark, churned earth where he had discovered the tiny mummified body.

This pocket in the corn maze felt natural, not like the ominous, artificial circle from before. It was just wide enough for a handful of people to stand comfortably. The open sky above the towering walls of corn kept the space from feeling too cramped. And this time, Seojun wasn’t alone. At least it wasn’t a little mummy.

“Ah!”

A gasp snapped his gaze to a figure. Seojun froze, his body tense as he made out not one, but two people.

“Tracy, come here, quick!”

“Oh, Bailey. Be careful.”

A man who’d been wandering near the scarecrow put himself between Seojun and a woman. His sharp eyes darted around, checking each swaying stalk before focusing back on the stranger in their midst. Seojun did the same, feeling a bit less on edge at the sight of actual, living people.

Well, at least they look alive.

The man and woman whispered to each other, their cheeks rosy with vitality. Their casual clothes caught Seojun’s eye, not at all what farmers would wear. The guy’s sandals looked more beach-ready than farm-friendly. As the square-jawed stranger turned towards him, his deep voice had a roughness to it, like an old cassette tape.

“Not another step. Yeah, don’t come any closer. What business do you have with us?”

The guy held out his hand, palm out in warning. His steely grey eyes, tense as coiled springs, reflected Seojun’s messy appearance. Suddenly, Seojun became hyper-aware of how he looked: eyepatch over one eye, hair messily tied back and sticking to the nape of his neck, and his tall, sweat-drenched figure. He must have looked…

Incredibly suspicious!

But Seojun wasn’t the type to back down easily. As casually as he could, he wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and said, “I don’t have any business with you. Just passing through for the scarecrow. You can do your own thing.”

The relief of finding other people alive faded as quickly as it had come. Seojun realized that asking for help from these hostile strangers was a lost cause. But as he glanced between the scarecrow and the endless sea of cornfields, his pouty expression gave way to a decision. He tossed his arrogant pride aside faster than the speed of light.

“Hey, could you please point me toward the road? I’d be super grateful if you could spare a second to help a lost guy out.”

“……”

The couple exchanged curious looks, their hostility melting away at Seojun’s polite but slightly condescending request. A hint of a smile appeared on their lips.

“Well, would you look at that, Bailey! We’ve got a fellow lost soul here,” the woman said, her tone playful.

“As always, you find the perfect words for the situation, Tracy,” replied the man, his grin mirroring hers.

Great, don’t tell me these two fools are lost too. Did nobody read the signs?

A moment of the pot calling the kettle black. Seojun grumbled inwardly to himself, ignoring their shared predicament. Meanwhile, the man approached with a warm smile.

“What a surprise meeting a fellow wanderer. I’m Tracy Lauren, and this is my husband, Bailey.” Tracy introduced them, her voice friendly and inviting.

Bailey extended his hand, his grin turning sheepish. “Bailey Lauren, at your service. Sorry about the misunderstanding earlier. Truce?”

Seojun hesitated before shaking Bailey’s hand. “Nice to meet you, um, I’m Seojun. And…same.”

Through his gloves, Seojun felt the calloused palm of a working man in Bailey’s firm grip. He noticed Bailey’s gaze drifting downward, curiosity flickering in his eyes. Seojun knew that look all too well. People often assumed he was a germaphobe, obsessed with cleanliness. While not exactly a neat freak, correcting their assumptions now would only make things more awkward.

After all, what excuse could he give for wearing gloves in the middle of summer if not being a germaphobe?

He couldn’t even think up a good one to tell them. Saying something like, ‘I have psychometry, you see. If I don’t wear these gloves, I’d be swamped with memories of your breakfast toast with cream and coffee, and those three grapes you had this morning!‘

Psychic powers, magic, supernatural abilities… just thinking about saying it out loud made Seojun cringe. Although it wasn’t a lie…he still felt like a fraud, and it showed in the way his skinny broad shoulders hunched inward.

Bailey gave a casual wave and returned to Tracy’s side, whispering something in her ear. Tracy approached Seojun, her expression a mix of concern and determination.

“We didn’t plan to stop here,” she explained. “Our child got carsick and ran into the cornfield. We’re searching the area to find our little one here.”