Reborn as a Prophet in a Horror Movie

#074Reader Mode

T/N: (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ 2/2

#074

Johan barely registered the warm trickle of drool sliding down his arm from Ben’s slack mouth as he quickly unlocked the storage room door. The stubborn handle, after enduring repeated blows, finally broke off with a sharp snap and clattered to the floor in defeat.

On the other side of the door, the flustered gas station owner stood clutching a crowbar, his breath escaping in short, panicked gasps. Confusion clouded his usually stern features as the door creaked open—how had it open so easily with the latch still in place?

Before he could react, Johan’s powerful leg delivered a kick with such force that the door flew backwards, slamming into the unsuspecting owner with a thunderous crash.

Disoriented, the owner staggered out from behind the door, his head spinning. The bright store lights cast a blinding glare, making it difficult to discern the shadowy depths of the room. Acting on pure instinct, he blindly swung the iron crowbar at the ominous figure charging towards him. The sickening, gurgling moan that followed confirmed he had found his mark.

The impact of metal meeting bone sent a jolt reverberating up his arm, and for a fleeting moment, a twisted, maniacal grin contorted the owner’s features. His cheekbones protruded sharply, nostrils flared, and teeth bared in a brief, insane cackle that echoed throughout the store—a momentary bloom of madness, like a deranged flower unfurling its petals.

But as quickly as it had blossomed, the grin withered and died. The owner froze, filled with dread as the horrifying truth set in. The crowbar was buried deep in his son Ben’s forehead, one eye bulging unnaturally. Ben’s lips parted slightly, as if to whisper a final word that would never come.

“Ah…” Ben groaned, the sound leaving him like air from a balloon. His lips trembled ever so slightly, and strangely enough, the owner’s upper lip twitched in the same manner. Johan held Ben in a chokehold, using the young man’s body as a shield against the distraught father. In a sincere voice, Johan said, “You know, domestic violence is never the answer. Poor Ben…”

The owner let out a pitiful wail, unable to hide his emotions any longer with his strength depleted. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and couldn’t just carelessly pull the crowbar out of his son’s face. If only he had aimed for the middle of the forehead, it would have been a quicker, less gruesome end. Now he had to face what he had done. The crowbar was balanced precariously between Ben’s eyebrow and forehead. One wrong move, and the eye would pop out like an overripe grape.

Johan, indifferent to the father’s distress, gently caressed the crowbar jutting out of Ben’s face, his touch light and almost reverent. Then with a sudden violence, he wrenched it free, his grip firm on the handle. The owner’s anguished shriek followed closely behind.

“Don’t you dare mess around!”

“Really?”

Johan’s muscular forearm tightened around Ben’s neck, constricting like a python’s coils slowly suffocating its victim. A strangled, distorted groan escaped Ben’s lips, reminiscent of a malfunctioning answering machine.

“Guhhh…”

Johan’s voice was a disturbing blend of menace and tenderness, leaving the listener unsure whether to feel comforted or afraid. “If poor, delicate little Ben’s neck snaps and he gets to reunite with his mom in the afterlife, make sure you bury him right beside her. They’ll be so happy together, even in Hell.”

Johan’s hand flexed, veins bulging as raw power surged through each merciless squeeze. The owner clenched his jaw, barely containing the rage simmering within him.

“Watch your mouth, boy. Murder ain’t something to talk about so casually.”

Johan’s eyes went wide, the picture of innocence. “But it’s not that difficult these days, is it? Us kids, we learn so fast now.”

The owner’s bloodshot eyes smoldered with white-hot fury as he gripped his end of the crowbar with white knuckles. Suddenly, Lacey’s frantic voice pierced the tension from within the storage room.

“Papa, this bastard has lost his mind!”

“Lacey, get out of there now!”

Lacey, typically a well-behaved child, began to panic. Sweat formed on her hands as she attempted to follow her father’s command. Under normal circumstances, freeing herself from her restraints would have been a simple task, but the urgency of the situation caused her fingers to slip and fumble clumsily. Abandoning the ties at her ankles, she pointed a trembling finger at Johan.

“Ah, ugh, this thing won’t budge, damn it! Papa, look what he did to Ben’s hand! This bastard really is someone who will kill him!”

“What?”

The man’s gaze snapped to Ben’s limp hands, and his eyes widened in horror. Ben’s hands were mangled beyond recognition – an ugly mass of bruised, swollen flesh. The fingers were indistinguishable, melted into a bloated tangle, skin mottled purple and black like one giant, consuming bruise.

“Ben!!!”

The owner’s grip on the iron crowbar slackened in shock. That’s how terrible the sight was. Johan couldn’t help but find the level of love this supposedly twisted family showed each other to be absurd. If they cared so much, why not just make heartwarming home videos instead of going through the trouble of killing innocent people?

But couldn’t he use this love to his advantage? Johan thought, his gaze flitting between Lacey and the owner.

“Now, let’s have a more productive conversation. I’ll take care of Ben so we can all walk away happy,” Johan said with a friendly smile.

For everyone but one, a fleeting moment of respite had been granted, though it was far from welcome.

Johan gently cradled Ben’s neck in the crook of his arm, the agonizing pain having mercifully rendered the guy unconscious. As he retreated from the owner, the iron crowbar found its way into Johan’s hand with natural ease. Though the monkey wrench had its uses, he still preferred the longer reach of the crowbar. After all, wasn’t that why the owner had chosen to wield it in the first place?

Sweeping his azure eyes across the convenience store, Johan took in the details he’d missed during his initial charge from the storage room, having been distracted by the owner’s attack. The store was mostly as he remembered before Lacey’s voice had lured him into the trap, with one notable exception.

Atop the countertop lay a dead dog, its blood dripping onto the tiled floor and forming a crimson pool that stained the ground. The canine had short, bluish-gray fur, and while its precise breed was difficult to tell due to the state of the animal’s head, Johan assumed it might have been a Doberman.

It appeared that the owner had vented his anger upon the dog’s skull, shattering it beyond recognition. Brain and bone were pulverized into an indistinguishable mass, erasing any semblance of the dog’s original form. It was now clear why the poor creature had been barking so frantically before…

The dog’s corpse explained why Ben had not died instantly – the crowbar’s edge had been dulled after caving in the animal’s skull. The owner’s overalls were so heavily splattered with blood and bits of viscera that an untrained eye might have mistaken the stains for a patterned fabric.

Johan clicked his tongue softly as he met the bloodshot, angry eyes of the store owner, who was currently engaged in a heated argument with Lacey. He looked back calmly, assessing the store’s layout and glancing outside. With Ben’s vulnerable neck firmly in his grasp, Johan knew his new ‘friend’ would cooperate without hesitation if a quick escape to his car became necessary.

However, greed kept Johan rooted to the spot.

He swallowed hard, his eyes darting towards the CCTV camera as an intense thirst coursed through his veins. As soon as Seojun drove off in his truck, Johan was quick on his heels. The sickly pale face he encountered every day was imprinted in his memory.

Ever since his discharge from the hospital following the campsite incident, Seojun’s sighs had become more frequent. He often gazed at the sky with a melancholic expression, and would unexpectedly lash out, kicking at the air as if battling invisible demons. On multiple occasions, Johan had to catch him as he nearly lost his balance, noticing that this erratic behavior seemed to worsen in his presence.

Then, one day, Seojun disappeared, vanishing like a gust of wind.

Although Johan knew Seojun’s intended destination, current location, phone number, and even his vehicle’s license plate number etc… he still wanted to hear it directly from Seojun if possible. This was just his pure way of doing things.

But this pure nature didn’t mean Johan wouldn’t jump at any opportunity to get footage of Seojun. He looked closely at Lacey’s fingers, the ones he had purposefully left unharmed. A satisfied smile appeared on his lips as he reflected on the wisdom of that decision.

Johan’s thoughts were abruptly shattered by a savage howl. He turned to see a large cage by the store entrance, holding a very much alive dog that looked identical to the dead one. The Doberman, with its long legs, powerful neck and chest, and erect ears, snarled viciously. Its eyes caught the neon glare of the store sign, making them gleam with an unsettling intensity. Drool dripped from the dog’s jaws as it frantically chewed on the cage bars, desperate to break free. The enclosure looked rather flimsy; loosening a few nails on the top would be all it took. Then the crazed animal would certainly burst into the store, attacking anyone in sight.

Studying the store owner more closely, Johan noticed an ugly fresh wound on the man’s forearm that hadn’t been there when he first walked in. The owner had hastily wrapped a towel around it as a makeshift bandage, but it didn’t fully conceal the unmistakable bite marks. Based on the man’s pained grimace, the wound had to be pretty bad. Suddenly, the situation became clear – the mutilated dog carcass tossed on the counter like garbage, the owner’s fury. It all made sense now.

While Johan was deep in thought doing mental calculations, he noticed Ben growing feverish. The poor guy had taken a nasty blow to the face, and his hands were a mangled, useless mess. Johan, being the kind-hearted soul he was, decided to let Ben’s family know about his condition. He kept Ben pinned down with his forearm pressed against his throat.

“You guys better hurry. Ben’s not looking too good. Least you could do is give the guy some Tylenol or something.”

The owner, enraged beyond belief, bellowed, “I’ll wring every last drop of oil from your pathetic body!”

Lacey, who had finally managed to free herself, stumbled out of the storage room. She wiped the fake blood from her hair and approached her father, putting on a childish tone that sounded seriously creepy coming from a grown woman. “Papa, that bastard said he’d leave quietly if we just cut out a bit of the CCTV footage for him. He won’t even report it.”

It reminded Johan of how Ben had reacted earlier when threatened, bawling for his mother like a little kid. The whole situation was beyond bizarre.

“You’re too naive, Lacey. Words are cheap. Is Santa real? Demons? Angels?!” The owner slammed his heavy fist on the counter, sending souvenir coffee mugs crashing down in a spray of ceramic shards and rich aroma.

Lacey pointed at Ben’s swollen hands. “But look at what he did to Ben, Papa! No decent human being would do that. This guy might actually kill him!”

Johan thought Lacey was being a bit harsh, but he kept his mouth shut instead of arguing. His silence only seemed to anger Lacey more. She twisted her lips in disgust, as if fighting back the urge to vomit. Her threat hung heavy in the air as she tried to intimidate Johan. “If you break your promise, I’ll hunt down the person you love and wring them dry too. You’ll regret messing with us.”

Lacey’s threat struck Johan like a thunderbolt, leaving him wide-eyed and speechless. There was no doubt about her sincerity. Her coal-black eyes, so much like her father’s, scrutinized Johan’s appearance, as if committing it to memory. Her gaze burned with a resolute desperation.

But sincerity was contagious, and Johan made a decision of his own. His eyes flicked to a poster on the convenience store wall.

Beware of fire and wild animals.