Reborn as a Prophet in a Horror Movie

#148Reader Mode

T/N: Thank you “Somebody” for the coffee! May you never stub your toe on furniture again!ヾ(≧▽≦*)

#148

Seojun wanted to kick himself. Hard. Like, really hard. What the hell was he thinking, just handing the knife over to Camry like that? He mentally slapped himself a few times for good measure. He deserved it. Probably deserved a few more slaps upside the head too.

Honestly, who does that? Who gives a murder weapon back to the freaking murderer? And to Camry of all people! The same woman who’d stabbed that knife into Leimia over and over again.

I must be under some kind of spell or something, Seojun thought frantically. Or straight-up possessed. Something must have messed with his head the second he stepped foot in this cursed room.

All that pride Seojun had in his selfish, ruthless survival instinct that had kept him alive this long suddenly felt like a big fat joke. And now here he was, helpless, watching his only way to defend himself casually twirling between the fingers of a killer.

“Idiot,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Must have a damn hole in my brain. Losing an eye wasn’t enough apparently…”

Camry’s husky, creepily melodic laugh drifted out of the shadows. “Aww, don’t look so betrayed, Seojun. You know this knife is rightfully mine. I picked it out myself at the grocery store.” Her voice had a strange broken warmth to it that made his skin crawl now that he knew the truth about her. “Got some nice ricotta cheese that day too.”

That random detail—the scary normalness of it—sent a chill down Seojun’s spine worse than any direct threat could’ve. Ricotta freaking cheese. He gulped hard as she kept fiddling with the blade.

“Nothing special. But it gets the job done. I remember taking it out of the package so carefully, peeling the wrapping back just right so it wouldn’t nick me.”

And now, really looking at her, the details he’d somehow missed before came into sharp focus. The splotchy dark bruises all over her skin looked less like injuries and more like livor mortis spreading under the surface. This deep, unnatural cold radiated off her, not just from the chilly room, but like an active black hole sucking all the warmth out of the air around her. Her skin wasn’t just pale; it had the faintest hint of sickly bluish undertone, like… old meat.

And the stench. God, the stench. How had he stood next to her, walked with her, without gagging? Sealed in this windowless room, door shut tight, the reek of rot was so thick he could practically taste it, a nasty film coating the back of his tongue. His nose scrunched up involuntarily—a dumb, dangerous reaction around someone armed and clearly unhinged.

But Camry just smiled. The way her eyes crinkled at the corners, almost sweet-like, looked terribly wrong on a face that belonged to the dead.

Seojun’s mouth snapped shut. Seriously, that gentle smile, wildly out of place for the situation, freaked him out more than any threat could have.

Everything about her felt fundamentally wrong. The awful rotting smell, the eerie stillness of her chest where you should see breathing, that soft misplaced smile. Most people might rationalize these things away, find logical explanations. But Seojun felt how wrong it was, deep down. This wasn’t how someone acted after they’d killed someone, or if they were about to kill again. Her strange calmness wasn’t calming, it was downright monstrous.

If Camry hadn’t died, she could’ve turned into something really scary. A serial killer nobody would ever suspect, starting with Leimia and spiraling out from there.

A future that couldn’t happen now, just a hypothetical “what if.” Death got to Camry before she could realize any such potential.

And that’s what made this moment so jarring.

If Camry was just naturally a killer, maybe her being this calm would make sense. But she wasn’t. Seojun tried to make this Camry fit with the one he knew or thought he knew. Killing Leimia… yeah, it started eerily calm, but it ended in a brutal mess. It was fueled by pure rage that had finally boiled over. That Camry, consumed by hate, he could almost understand, in a terrifying way.

So what was this? This… awful calm? This almost kind quietness as she talked about killing him? Someone she apparently didn’t even have a problem with?

Especially when she herself said she liked him.

Nothing added up. And standing here, empty-handed, facing a dead girl smiling at him with a knife… that was the most terrifying part of all.

“Wait,” Seojun blurted, the word just shooting out of him, anything to buy more time. “You said you like me, right? So why…? Who kills someone they actually like?” He was stalling, grasping at straws. “Unless… is this some kind of… I don’t know… a murder kink? You only go for people you like?”

“Murder kink?”

He wasn’t just talking to fill the silence. His good eye scanned the room—walls, ceiling, floor—looking for something, anything, an escape route. Nothing. Problem was, Camry was standing right between him and the only way out.

He licked his dry lips, tasting blood or maybe just the metallic tang of fear. Adrenaline vibrated uselessly beneath his skin, his leg quivering with energy he couldn’t burn, sweat pooling cold and uncomfortable between his toes. Everything inside him screamed RUN, but it took everything he had just to stay put. If he bolted now, he knew he’d feel that knife sink between his shoulder blades before he took two steps. He needed an opening. Needed her distracted, just for a second.

But there was nothing. Nothing to throw, nothing to use as a weapon. Unless he planned on throwing pills at her one by one. His only weapon was his mouth. He had to keep her talking.

“Hmm?” A faint curve touched Camry’s lips. She looked at him like you’d look at a clumsy puppy trying to do a trick – patient, maybe a little amused. Seojun had never been so glad to be looked down on; right now, her underestimating him felt like finding oasis in the middle of the desert.

“Is that how you see it? A murder kink?” Her voice, that strange, damaged-but-still-warm sound, scraped out a dry little laugh, but her smile didn’t even twitch. Her eyes drifted lazily around the room, unhurried, utterly calm. Seojun realized with a sinking feeling she was calmly checking out his escape options too, killing the tiny bit of hope he had. “Let me clear this up, Seojun. For my own dignity, you know? Killing Leimia… and killing you? Totally separate things. Yes, I killed her. Right here.”

Her eyes dropped to the floorboards between them. Even though the floor was clean now, her eyes acted like they were tracing patterns only she could see, like the bloodstain was still there, bright and fresh, just for her.

“I’d hated her for so long, I started to wonder if I even meant it anymore. Did I really want her dead? Or was I just… used to hating her? Maybe it was just this idea I’d kept alive…. I had to know for sure. So, Leimia and I stood right here. Together. In front of the mirror.”

When she looked back up at him, her face was serene, sure of herself, like someone who didn’t have a conscience, didn’t feel a single shred of regret.

“You know how that turned out. I got my answer. Finally figured out what I really felt inside. So I killed her. And it felt… good. Soo good, Seojun. I was happy.” She tilted her head a bit, that soft, wrong smile getting a little wider. “Not knowing yourself, Seojun? It’s awful. Worse than people think. Questioning everything, all the time… Nobody can live like that forever.”

Something sour and hot surged up Seojun’s throat. He forced it back down, his jaw tight. He knocked his knuckles against the dirty mirror next to him. “So what? This… this dirty mirror gave you some kind of spiritual epiphany?”

Camry’s response remained gentle, as if his rudeness hadn’t registered. “Something like that. It helped me see. Really see. That what I felt wasn’t fake. Wasn’t just me imagining things.” A faint, dreamy smile touched her lips. “That moment of clarity… realizing what I really was… I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. Even though Leimia’s poison killed me right after.”

Her calm face, the way she just casually mentioned her own death with that peaceful smile… it made Seojun feel sick to his stomach. He must have gone pale as the horrible memory from the mirror—the real, bloody mess from less than a day ago—hit him again, sharp and disgusting. That sour taste burned his throat again, even worse this time.

She traced her finger languidly down the blade, seeming to relish its dangerous edge. The metal caught just enough light to reflect in her eyes. When she spoke, her voice slipped into a hushed murmur, barely audible yet powerful enough to raise goosebumps along Seojun’s neck despite the distance between them.

“I was right about you, wasn’t I? You really are… special, Seojun. How else could you possibly know about the poison before I even mentioned it? It’s like… you can see right through things. But I suppose that makes sense, doesn’t it? For someone who watches the Devil’s Home Shopping Program.”

And just like that, Seojun was apparently a regular viewer to some demonic show he’d never even laid eyes on himself. Indignation almost made him snap back, but he choked it down. Better she think he was some occult TV junkie than know the truth about his ability, however useless it felt right now. Keep the real advantage hidden.

“Who knows? Maybe I’ve got… connections. Someone watching my back.” Seojun’s fingers drifted, almost without thinking, toward the dirty surface of the mirror beside him. “Someone who sees everything… like this mirror.”

He gave it two clear taps. Tap. Tap. Against the glass.

For just a split second, Camry’s demeanor changed completely—the artificial flush of life drained out of her face, leaving her looking like a gray, empty corpse. Fear flashed in her eyes. Then, just as fast, the calm flooded back, and she threw her head back and laughed.

Not that low, hoarse chuckle from before. This was wild, ragged, like tearing cloth, cutting through the quiet. It almost felt physical, like sharp bits of sound scraping his eardrums. “Ahaha… ahahaha… AHAHAHAHA!” It went on and on, a terrible, broken noise that sounded like it was being ripped out of her, like it was making her hollow inside.

Seojun froze. Couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Nothing—not the threats, the smell, the knife—nothing had prepared him for this. This wasn’t just her losing it; this was something else. Something totally unhinged.

When the laughing finally stopped, leaving her gasping, she wiped under her eyes like she was wiping away tears, but there weren’t any. She beamed at him, this look of pure, terrifying happiness taking over her face.

“Oh, trying to wake Leimia?” Her smile stretched wider, showing a disturbing glimpse of pale gums. “Go on, then. Don’t let me stop you. Might wanna hit it harder, though. She always was a really heavy sleeper!”

Seojun jerked his hand back from the mirror like it had burned him. Dealing with one undead killer calmly talking about murdering him was already bad enough. The thought of adding the aggressive Leimia to this toxic little standoff? He might as well lie down and compose his own eulogy. Seojun stepped away, getting further from the mirror.

As he moved, Camry added, her voice shifting back to that unnerving, almost casual pleasantness, “Just us right now, though. But please, feel free. Give it a good knock if you like.” Then, the amusement disappeared, replaced by that chilling calm. “Just us right now. Which is exactly why I am going to kill you.”

A strange, twisted sort of pride radiated from her as she mentioned killing him again. Seojun had already started measuring the distance to her legs, wondering if he could make a desperate, probably stupid tackle—but he just stared in disbelief. It made no sense. No matter how many times she said it, he just couldn’t figure out why. It was terrifying not knowing. If she’d just said it was because he was trespassing, because he’d found her… her grave, basically… maybe he could get that. Find some grim, understandable logic in it. But this…? This felt like madness hiding behind a calm, smiling face…

Then, through all the panic, a thought suddenly hit him. Camry’s behavior matched the classic pattern of an earthbound spirit—a ghost chained to its place of death, forever restless, lashing out at any living trespasser. Suddenly, things started to make a bit more sense. Maybe all her talk, the philosophical twists and turns, was just bullshit. Maybe the answer was dead simple: she’s a ghost attacking him because he’s alive and he’s here.

As Camry took another slow step closer, knife hanging by her side, Seojun tried to sound confused, anything to keep her back. “So… you want to kill me… so I get trapped here instead of you? Is that it?”

She just sighed, like he was being dense on purpose, and adjusted her grip on the knife. “Leimia might think that way. Honestly, Seojun, you haven’t been listening to me at all, have you? I’m hurt.”

The knife flashed as she shifted her weight, a quick glint of silver that made him flinch. Camry touched her own cheek with her free hand, almost gently. She looked so kind, but knowing what she was about to do…

“Look, the truth is… I hated Leimia. Hated her so much I killed her right here.” She paused, her words suddenly sharp with bitterness. “And then I died too. And got stuck here… with her. Can you even imagine? How unbelievably fucked up is that? I kill her because I can’t stand being stuck with her… only to end up trapped with her forever? When I figured that out… just endless horrible days listening to her complain…I wanted to die all over again. Even though I was already dead.”

She hooked her fingers into the corners of her mouth and pulled her lips into a grotesque imitation of a smile. It was disturbing—just stretched skin over bone, completely devoid of warmth. Like a corpse’s grin. Seojun felt his own lips start to quiver.

“Turns out,” she said, letting the horrible smile fall, her face returning to that unsettling calmness, “Leimia had the same idea. About escaping, I mean. Find someone else, push them in, take their place. You know, typical ghost behavior.” Something flickered across her expression—a memory? Disgust? “I watched her set it up. From behind the glass.”

“But…” Camry’s eyes found his again, locking onto him with a burning intensity that should be impossible for something cold and dead. She held him with that stare.

“I see things differently. Being trapped here? It’s not so terrible. Not if I’m with someone I actually want to be with.” Her gaze remained fixed on him. “Instead of someone I hate.”

“Wait…” Seojun’s mind struggled to process the absolute insanity of what she was suggesting. “Hold on. Was that… another confession? Are you… Are you actually confessing to me right now?”

Across from him, Camry’s pale face didn’t just smile. It brightened. As if she was genuinely happy, completely ignoring how utterly bizarre this all sounded. She simply gave him a small, contented nod.