Reborn as a Prophet in a Horror Movie

#065Reader Mode

#065

Seojun’s mind reeled as the pieces fell into place. April, the seemingly innocent boy, had been the murderous scarecrow all along – that evil spirit in disguise! The realization hit him like a freight train, leaving him utterly floored.

It all made sense now. April had materialized out of nowhere when the Laurens were chasing Seojun, sharing every detail of the scarecrow’s twisted origin story and final words without prompting. He had played the part of the helpful ally, only to vanish without a trace, abandoning Seojun to fend for himself against that terrifying monster…

As the initial shock faded, clarity washed over him. Looking back, April’s behavior had been suspicious from the start. How could he have been so blind?

I was just trying to stay alive. It couldn’t be helped.

Seojun wiped the cold beads of sweat from his brow, blaming it on the frantic, adrenaline-fueled chase that had left him gasping for air, his oxygen-starved brain struggling to process it all. He firmly ignored his own lack of situational awareness, refusing to spiral down that rabbit hole of denial.

His gaze settled on Leah, sitting motionless, eyes glued to the ground. Figuring out how to handle the traumatized child felt like a challenge from hell itself. The question burning in his mind weighed heavily, like cast-iron shackles smothering his last shreds of compassion.

As the self-loathing crept back in, Seojun struggled to find his voice. The words tasted bitter on his tongue.

“Leah,” he said, barely above a whisper. “Does this mean…you’ve become something like an air spirit now? A mystical princess who can breathe both air and water?”

Seojun desperately tried to ease into the harsh truth with a fanciful metaphor, his shameless tongue well-practiced after years of spouting nonsensical prophecies.

“What are you talking about? Air and water? I’m not a fish or a spirit,” Leah said, confused. “I’m dead – just a ghost that emerged from my own corpse, like a mushroom from rotting leaves.”

Leah’s straightforward nature cut straight through the metaphorical bullsh*t. She favored cold hard facts over sugar-coated fairy tales. In her mind, The Little Mermaid ended with the mermaid marrying the prince and ruling the human world. Seojun’s clumsy attempt at an uplifting analogy left his face burning red. He fumbled, at a loss for how to convey his concern in a sensitive way.

“See, that’s the problem. I’m not a shaman, so realistically, how can I help you? I want nothing more than to escape this place with you, but…”

As Seojun conversed with the ghostly young girl, he questioned the very nature of reality around them. Despite his newfound supernatural abilities, he knew they had nothing to do with zombie myths or ghost stories. And no matter how much he cared for Leah, trust alone wouldn’t be enough to rescue her – he needed to address this issue head-on.

Leah frowned and her lips formed into a pout, a habit seemingly ingrained from a young age. “I’m not just being stubborn about becoming alive again,” she clarified. Sadness could be heard in her voice. “I just want to get out of this never-ending cornfield…”

The deep sadness in her dark eyes was too heavy for a child to bear. Seojun felt a sense of guilt before coming to his senses and grinding his teeth.

This type of suffering should be reserved for the real monsters – the child abusers and murderous scarecrow out there walking free. Those bastards are smiling like they’ve done nothing wrong.

As Seojun’s mind was lost in a whirlwind of emotions, Leah spoke up cautiously.

“I need you to do something for me. Take my remains and get them out of this cornfield.”

“Your remains?” Seojun asked, caught off guard.

“You saw it, didn’t you? The body hugging the walkie-talkie…”

“Oh.” The image of the emaciated girl’s lifeless corpse flashed in his mind. Aside from the missing left wrist, the lonely mummified remains showed no other obvious injuries.

Leah’s gaze grew distant, as if reliving another haunting memory. “It took me awhile to realize I was dead. I just kept running and wandering through this endless maze of corn, losing all track of night and day. Until I finally understood…I no longer needed air, sleep, or even food.”

She looked down at her pale, ghostly hands, small but solidly attached unlike her corpse’s withered state. “April took advantage and stole my remains. But I fought back, reclaiming the pieces one by one – legs, torso, head, arms, left hand. Slowly and carefully, making sure April, Mom, or Mr. Bailey never caught on. But no matter how hard I looked, I could never find where he hid my right hand.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m trapped here until I get that hand back. Without it, I can’t leave this cornfield.”

Seojun nodded slowly as the weight of her words sank in. He may not fully grasp the metaphysics of the afterlife, but one thing was globally clear – a deep cultural reverence across societies for the physical remains of the deceased. Leah’s spirit was bound here, tethered to her own incomplete bodily form.

Seojun studied Leah’s bluish-tinged cheeks, curious how she could speak so openly about her own death.

“Hey Leah, your parents seemed insatiably hungry, but don’t you ever feel hunger pains too?”

If Leah’s hand had been taken after she died, that must mean she literally starved to death. Wouldn’t she, more than the gluttonous Laurens, be tormented by hunger’s relentless grasp? Leah shook her head, her voice soft.

“The only feelings I have now are fear and a desperate need to escape. I’ve thought about why, but I’m not completely sure. Remember when I told you I could see the dead, even when I was alive? Spirits get stuck in whatever mental state they were in at the moment of death. Like those who die in car crashes – their spirits linger at the accident site, trapped in an endless loop of pain and shock until their energy fades away.”

Leah looked up at Seojun, her eyes haunted. “But then there are evil, cold-hearted ones like April. I was absolutely terrified of him, and I ran until the moment I died. That’s why I don’t feel hunger or get tired. But if I don’t get out of here, I’ll be forever trapped in that fear of April. The thought alone scares me.”

Her frail shoulders trembled, and Seojun gently draped his jacket over her back. The mysteries of the spirit realm unveiled themselves as the jacket didn’t pass through her ghostly form, but instead draped over her upper body. As Seojun adjusted the sleeves, his hand brushed her skin, sending a chill through his body. Despite the sweltering heat, her skin was ice cold.

Was this eerie sensation just his mind playing tricks, knowing she was no longer alive? Or was the freezing temperature proof of something supernatural?

Yet unlike the ugly murderous scarecrow or the Laurens with their stomachs gaping open like smiles, the sight of Leah stirred a sense of pity in Seojun’s heart, which had grown as parched as a drought-stricken rice paddy. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and clicked his tongue.

If this kid turns out to be some secret, ultimate villain plot twist, I’m in real trouble…

April had already fooled him once, concealing his true identity as the terrifying scarecrow behind an act. As much as part of Seojun wanted to show kindness now that immediate danger had passed, if there was even a chance Leah was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, keeping his distance was the smarter play.

A lifetime of being let down had Seojun’s mind whispering doubts, sparking that familiar flame of suspicion. Yet, there was something about Leah’s furtive glances, devoid of any overt pleas for sympathy or pity, that reminded him of his own younger, more vulnerable self – tormented by that awful gold-silver-bronze trio.

Seojun knew that lost look all too well. He too had once desperately wished for someone, perhaps Christina – the female protagonist and only daughter of Mr. and Mrs. toolbox – to swoop in and save him. Though, if he was being honest, the ‘salvation’ he’d envisioned back then was more like human sacrifice. Still, he had managed to romanticize his ugly past to the fullest.

Thoughts of Christina always led back to memories of Wraithwood. In a flashback, bright sunlight illuminated a bloodied face with golden yarn-like hair, smiling brightly at him. But the owner of that smile definitely didn’t have long hair. It wasn’t Christina who had held his hand back then…

No, I can’t think about that now.

Seojun shook his head vigorously, his neck jerking like he might wrench it off. Leah slowly scooted away, watching him with concern. Doubt crept into his mind, like a rotten rope thrown out as a lifeline, darkening his eyes. He hastily composed himself, focusing on the matter at hand.

“So let me get this straight – our goal is to find your missing hand and escape, while also taking down Bailey, Tracy, and April, who’s disguised as some murderous scarecrow?”

“Yes! Exactly!”

Is that even possible?

Seojun managed to keep his skepticism from slipping out. He knew the situation was dire, but his facial muscles didn’t quite match his perceived maturity – and it showed. Leah’s lively smile from moments ago began to fade. But being just a spirit, she quickly regained her resolve, wiggling her fingers and clenching her fist tightly.

“Don’t give up so easily. I know you can do this.”

“Leah, I really am grateful for your endless trust and faith in me, especially in such a harsh world. But what makes you believe in me so much?”

After a rare moment of self-reflection, Leah pondered before replying thoughtfully.

“Because you’re a tall adult. Much taller than Mom, Mr. Bailey, or even April.”

“…….”

Seojun considered explaining that height wasn’t the only factor in a fight – muscles and even some extra fat padding could make a big difference. But Leah was sharper than he initially gave her credit for. Blinking, she added to her explanation.

“I think April might have hidden my missing bone inside the scarecrow’s body. It’s the only place I haven’t checked.”

Leah reached out, grasping at the air like she was trying to grab something invisible. She glanced up at Seojun, her eyes a mix of determination and desperation.

“With your long arms, you could reach deep into all that straw. Your hands would find it easily. You already took the scarecrow down once before.”

It seemed she had her own way of acknowledging his supposed expertise. The so-called expert, however, was still glaring at that irritatingly bright sun as he responded.

“Leah, that was just dumb luck last time. Had nothing to do with my height. Your parents’ guts were conveniently placed. But you really think April would be stupid enough to wrap them around the pitchfork again?”

Leah’s gaze drifted to the intestines strewn across the cornfield like some macabre party streamers. She tugged at them experimentally, stretching them like rubber bands. “We could use these as a rope, like in those old cowboy cartoons, to pull it down. Mom and Mr. Bailey’s guts are still so strong and stretchy…”

Seojun choked back a surprised cough. Tracy’s intestines – or maybe Bailey’s – did seem bizarrely fresh and elastic, like they’d just been pulled from a belly. “I thought they’d be all rotten and gross by now…And Leah, didn’t you say we shouldn’t disrespect your parents’ remains like that?”

“This isn’t disrespecting them,” Leah argued bitterly. “Even though Mom brought me here to kill me, I know she must have loved me at least a tiny bit, like an ant’s eye in the corner of her heart. As a loving daughter, I noticed that hidden affection right away. Well, it could have been Mr. Bailey’s love too, I guess.”

Even prophets or ghosts with weird abilities couldn’t really tell whose freshly-pulled intestines those were. Seojun briefly pondered it and quickly agreed – what did it matter if they weren’t actually her parents’?

“Okay, let’s use these intestines as a rope to pull down the scarecrow’s center again. While it’s down, we can dig through and find what we’re looking for. Sound good…Uncle? I’ve been avoiding them this whole time, even if it meant being called a coward.”

The child’s eyes shone brightly as she looked up at Seojun, confidence gleaming like a well-crafted sword’s edge.

“Uncle, you don’t actually have to fight the murderous scarecrow April this time. Once we find my hand, I’ll be freed from this cornfield, and I can guide you out safely. I really do know the way; I just haven’t been able to leave until now.”