Reborn as a Prophet in a Horror Movie

#088Reader Mode

T/N: (≧∀≦)ゞ Thank you so much for the coffee and the kind review on NU Aevintyri! Of course, I can’t let such kindness go unpaid. Double upload today! 1/2

#088

The movie’s attention to realism was so meticulous that it didn’t even have background music. The only sounds were the mundane noises of daily life, which only served to heighten the eerie atmosphere. The sudden, melodic tinkling of the shower curtain rings during the scene felt so out of place that Seojun couldn’t help but find it ironic. As if in agreement with his thoughts, Joseph let out a piercing scream that cut through the air.

“This is insane! Absolutely crazy!” Joseph yelled, his voice bouncing off the walls. “I’m getting out of here, now!”

The camera panned across the glistening tiles, and Seojun’s eyes fell on something that made his heart skip a beat. The long black hair tangled in the drain was unsettling, but it was the shower hose lying on the floor that sent shivers down his spine. The hose was clogged with broken fingernails, and its water-stained, well-worn appearance made his skin crawl with revulsion.

“Aaaah! Aaaah!”

Seeing the sight, Joseph stumbled backward and a shrill shriek erupted from him, as if his very insides were being ripped out. All thoughts of remaining quiet vanished in the face of his blind panic, and the veins in his forehead bulged as he screamed. He grabbed the camera and bolted out of the bathroom, almost tripping over himself in his desperate attempt to flee. But something unknown lurked in wait on the other side of room 999’s door.

The camera shook violently in his trembling hands, capturing his panicked, frantic monologue. “If I can just make it to the next room… the window… I can escape this nightmare!”

Seojun glanced at his own window. The ones at the Decoy Motel were indeed on the larger side, but he remembered all too well from his earlier stint of gazing out at the view that crossing over to the next room was going to be pretty damn difficult. Forget the rainwater making the ledge slippery – even on a clear day, most guys with an average build would find it a tight squeeze. Sticking your head out was one thing, but what came next was a whole different story. Yet Joseph, running on fumes, didn’t seem to care about any of that as he made a desperate dash for the window.

Or maybe he’s just choosing to ignore the risks…

Just as Joseph was about to pass the bed, the TV burst to life, its deafening volume erupting through the room like a sonic boom. It was as if it had been waiting for its cue, but no one had touched it. A palpable, buzzing tension filled the air, making Seojun’s hair stand on end…

“Uh, uh-uh.”

A pathetic moan slipped out of Joseph’s mouth, his mind fixated on one thing and one thing only: escaping Room 999. He held the camera haphazardly with one hand, causing the footage to shake uncontrollably, making it hard to discern what was happening. When he turned to the TV, which had inexplicably turned on by itself, the picture on channel DULC233E seemed to mirror his every move, as if it were tracking his actions.

Slowly, the fuzzy screen cleared, like watching millions of grains of sand coming together to form a face on the screen—Joseph’s face. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at his reflection on the TV in Room 999.

“This can’t be happening. I didn’t even turn it on, so how the hell…?”

Realizing something terrifying, the camera slipped from his trembling hand, crashing to the floor. The screen spun out of control before stopping, capturing Joseph’s twisted expression as he let out a gut-wrenching scream. Horrified, he bolted behind the TV, his movements frantic and desperate. Sweat poured down his ashen face, his veins bulging as he panicked like a cornered animal. With shaking hands and frantic urgency, the terrified man yanked the power cord out of its socket.

“AAHHHH!”

Joseph’s scream erupted, a shrill, ear-piercing wail that seemed to tear from his very core. He clutched his hand to his chest, his face contorted in agony, as if he were trying to hold himself together. Saliva collected at the corner of his mouth, then fell in thick, sloppy droplets onto the floor.

“Ugh, ughh!”

The sounds of his pain and anguish whistled through his clenched teeth, punctuated by short, ragged gasps. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the TV; his own terrified face stared back at him from the screen, like a taunting, twisted reflection.

The clock’s second hand ticked away, marking three slow, agonizing minutes before Joseph’s head finally began to rise, his movement stiff and jerky like a rusty hinge. As his haggard face turned towards the screen, the pale blue light reflected off his thick glasses, casting an unsettling glow on his gaunt features. In the brief time since he’d entered Room 999, Joseph’s skin had taken on a dull, lifeless hue, and his eyes had developed an unnatural sheen, making it hard to believe only a few minutes had passed.

Joseph’s head drooped again, his chin nearly touching his chest. His eyes, which had been fixed on enduring the pain, now fell upon the camera lying on the floor. As he stared at the lens, his own image on the TV screen stared back, eyes wide and unblinking. The two Josephs became locked in an unnerving triangular standoff, the silence broken only by the echoing whisper of the televised Joseph’s lips.

“This was the problem,” his disembodied voice seemed to hang in the air, “I have to destroy it. This… this thing…”

The screen filled with Joseph’s blackened, burned hand, growing larger and larger until the charred fingerprints were visible. The fingers twitched, jerking with pent-up fury. Joseph’s face contorted into a mask of hatred and desperation, his features twisted in a snarl. The urge to smash the camera was written all over his face, his eyes blazing with a wild intensity.

However, the chance never came. Joseph’s body jerked forward as if some unseen force had yanked his ankle out from under him. He crashed to the ground, his body hitting the floor with a sickening thud. The camera spun halfway around, caught in Joseph’s outstretched hand as he fell, the focus now strangely fixed on the bed. Even at this angle, it was easy to imagine Joseph’s pitiful state. The sound of his face smacking against the floor was particularly gruesome – the kind of sound that made you flinch without even thinking about it.

“Ugh…”

Joseph’s face-plant had brutal consequences. Broken shards of his glasses littered the ground, and blood poured from his nose, smearing his face with a deep, crimson stain. His swollen, split lips parted slightly, revealing his usually pristine front teeth now stained a horrifying shade of red from the impact.

Seojun, half-sprawled across the bed, idly wiggled his toes as he watched the scene unfold. It was unsettling how realistic Joseph’s injuries seemed, sparking an odd sense of concern in Seojun. If Joseph’s hands and feet had been ridiculously severed like in some low-budget horror flick, Seojun would’ve probably laughed at the cheesy special effects…

Just as Seojun was grumbling to himself, cracking walnuts, Joseph’s sudden reaction nearly made him leap out of his skin. Joseph’s eyes, wide with terror, bulged as he shuddered, the whites of his eyes practically glowing in the dim light. His jaw hung open, a silent scream frozen on his face, conveying the sheer depth of his fear.

A strangled cry escaped Joseph’s lips. “Ah, no, no—” His words were brutally cut short as some unseen force clamped down on his ankles, dragging him under the bed with a strength that was nothing short of terrifying. The tight space that he’d complained about earlier now became a sadistic trap, forcing his head into an unnatural, twisted angle. Whatever was pulling him seemed to take twisted pleasure in his agony, yanking him harder and faster.

Crack!

The sickening thud of Joseph’s skull slamming into the bed frame reverberated from the TV. In an instant, his head disappeared, followed by the rest of his thrashing body, consumed by the darkness. The bed frame shook and jerked violently, as if it too was haunted by the horrors unfolding beneath. Metal screeched against metal, punctuated by the unmistakable snap of bone and the wet, wrenching sound of flesh being torn apart. With each passing second, it became increasingly clear that something – or someone – was being twisted, broken, and utterly destroyed in the darkness below.

A sudden chill ran down Seojun’s back, making him instinctively hug his knees tighter to his body. The bed he was sitting on seemed as harmless as a sleeping puppy, but in a world where ghosts, zombies, and space monsters were real, it wasn’t too far-fetched to imagine a corpse or two lurking underneath, was it?

As Seojun’s mind raced with wild theories, the TV screen showed blood seeping out from under the bed, sealing Joseph’s grim fate. The camera impassively recorded the gruesome scene, its lens unflinching

Just as Seojun was about to stand up, thinking the movie was finally over, a creaking door sound effect pierced the silence in his room. He turned, expecting someone to enter, but his room remained empty. It took him a moment to realize that the sudden arrival was only happening on the TV, confined to the world of the movie.

The camera remained stationary, capturing the blood’s flow like a slow crimson tide. A hand suddenly appeared in the frame, suggesting a new character had finally arrived.

However, the person attached to that hand remained a mystery. Instead of revealing their face, they continued filming the vibrant red pool spreading across the carpet, soaking into the fibers. The enigmatic figure backed out of the room, the camera still rolling, capturing every unsettling detail. As they retreated, the ominous atmosphere of Room 999 faded into the distance, leaving an uneasy feeling.

Once they left the room, the door slammed shut with a resounding thud. The force of the impact sent the door plate swinging wildly before it clattered to the hallway floor. And in a chilling twist, the upside-down numbers now resembled the ominous digits 666.

The screen faded to black.

“Whoa…” Seojun exhaled, his exclamation sounding distinctly American.

To be blunt, ‘Real Life Situation!’ wasn’t a cinematic masterpiece. The monster or ghost that dragged Joseph under the bed was never explained, and the cleaner was only mentioned once by Joseph himself. And what about that mysterious person who showed up at the end? They appeared out of nowhere, never showed their face, and abruptly ended the movie.

“That’s messed up. Ugh, gross.”

But despite its flaws, there was something about the whole thing that had Seojun’s skin crawling. He ran his fingers through his messy hair, feeling another shiver run down his spine. The back of his neck, which had been sweaty, now felt uncomfortably clammy and cold.

Objectively speaking, “Real Life Situation!” was a mediocre film at best. Had it made its way to theaters or streaming platforms, it would have likely been met with a wave of negative reviews. The movie was riddled with amateurish flaws, and its plotline was rather unimaginative.

However, Seojun couldn’t shake the unnerving feeling that lingered throughout the movie. The reason? The film’s setting was an uncanny replica of Room 999, the very room he was staying in at that exact moment.

In all likelihood, it was probably just a cost-cutting measure taken by the production team.

But Seojun had a quirky taste for low-budget movies, and this unsettling coincidence only piqued his interest further. It had been a while since he’d last felt that thrill of fear mixed with safety, that peculiar sensation of being scared out of his wits while knowing he was in no real danger. There was something oddly exhilarating about it, like a guilty pleasure.

From the get-go, Seojun was engrossed in the movie. Now that “Real Life Situation!” had turned out to be a surprisingly enjoyable watch, his anticipation for the much-awaited “Inherited Animatronics are Murderous” was through the roof. Humming a tune, he casually crumpled the damp bedsheet, discarded it, and grabbed another cold beer within arm’s reach. The night of fun had only just begun.

Clack!

Seojun’s head jolted up as he was in the middle of lacing up his sneakers, startled by the unmistakable sound of porcelain and stainless steel crashing together. A shiver traveled down his spine. He glanced at the TV, which had just turned off after the movie ended. He wasn’t imagining things. The noise had come from the bathroom.

He cleared his throat and hesitantly unfolded his lanky legs. Slowly, he stretched out one foot and then the other, feeling the plush carpet squish beneath his feet, like quicksand. Shaking his head vigorously, he willed his nerves to settle, telling himself it was nothing to be alarmed about.

The room was small, so it didn’t take long for Seojun to reach the bathroom. The door was ajar, but the darkness within was impenetrable without any light. He tried to reassure himself, repeating in his mind that it was nothing to worry about.

The bathroom door hung crookedly in its frame, just as he remembered. The sight of the broken door sent a shiver of unease down his spine. He bit his lip hard, wincing at the pain. In a low, flat voice that reminded him of Joseph’s from the ominous videotape, he muttered to himself,

“It’ll be nothing…”