Reborn as a Prophet in a Horror Movie

#161Reader Mode

#161 

“W-What are you talking about?” 

Luciel’s voice broke halfway through the question. She tried to stand straighter, tried to look confident, but her voice gave her away. And it wasn’t because of the cold this time. 

Seojun couldn’t keep his hands still. His fingers kept fidgeting, and he was looking everywhere except at the door behind them—the one that wouldn’t open anymore. When he finally spoke, he stared down at the dirty floor. 

“Just think about it for a second. This place has been abandoned for years, right? The electricity should be shut off. And if someone was living here, we would’ve seen something. Footprints in all this dust, maybe some trash, I don’t know—something.” 

He waved his hand at the mess around them. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust that made the air feel heavy. You could see it floating in the dim light coming from their phones. 

“But nobody’s been here. Look at this place—it’s like a graveyard. That dust is so thick you can barely breathe.” His voice got quieter, more serious. “So why did that freezer suddenly turn on the second we got locked in here?” 

“That’s…” 

Luciel stopped mid-sentence. She bit her lip, and the quiet stretched out between them. The only sound was that mechanical humming that shouldn’t exist in a dead building. She wanted to argue with him, wanted to find some logical explanation. But she knew full well that this whole situation was anything but normal. 

Seojun was getting more confident now, his certainty growing stronger with each word. 

“And there’s more. Back when we were checking the main floor… I saw someone. Someone who wasn’t supposed to be here. Not you, not Brown, not McCullan or Dennis. Someone else.” 

The cold was making it harder to think straight, and his words came out faster, more urgent. Seojun was starting to ramble. Luciel held up a hand to stop him. 

“Eye of Utmost Darkness… you’re saying you saw someone else? Just now?” 

Seojun nodded slowly. That quick glimpse through the frosted glass was still burned into his memory. 

“I wasn’t sure at first, but… yeah. I think so.” 

Luciel shot a nervous look at the sealed door. Her face had gone pale, and for the first time since they’d been trapped, she looked genuinely scared. 

“Then are you suggesting that danger, with its vile fangs bared, now lurks in the path of the common folk as well?” 

Flowery as it was, she had a point. Strip away the fancy phrasing, and the truth was bleak: if they stayed in the freezer, they’d freeze to death. But if they stepped out, whoever, or whatever, was out there might be waiting to finish the job. Either way, they were screwed. 

They could barely keep it together as it was. Both of them were shivering, their movements getting slower and clumsier as the cold sank deeper into their bones. They were in no shape to help anyone, let alone defend themselves. 

When Seojun saw Luciel clench her fists, her jaw tight with grim determination despite her fear, he forced himself to focus. Someone had to stay calm. Someone had to think of a way out. 

“Look, it’s just a possibility. We don’t know anything for sure. What we do know is that we can’t afford to let our guard down…” 

Even as Seojun said it, the words felt empty. He felt like a fraud. Like he was just repeating something smart he’d heard in a movie. He didn’t have a plan. Hell, he didn’t even know what their options were. All he really wanted was to not freeze to death in this damn place. 

His breath came out in white puffs as he spoke, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. 

“Maybe I’m overthinking it. Let’s just try to stay positive. Could be it’s just some punk kid messing with trespassers, you know? Trying to scare people off as a prank.” 

Sure, calling it a “prank” when they were locked in a freezer was a pretty big stretch. And yeah, things weren’t exactly looking good. But they were already in deep trouble, so Seojun tried for a weak smile. 

“If some creep does show up, just spray him right in the face.” 

He nodded toward the pepper spray in Luciel’s hand. She looked down at the small pink canister in her palm, her voice small. 

“O Eye carrying the Star of Utmost Darkness…” 

Her head tilted back against the wall, and her eyes looked distant. Seojun couldn’t tell if she was about to cry or just shutting down completely. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if his own hands were shaking from the cold or just plain fear. He flexed his numb fingers and pointed at the pepper spray. 

“You do know how to use that, right?” 

Unfortunately, the instructions weren’t in his bag. He’d ripped open the packaging the second he bought the spray, skimmed the directions once, and then tossed them on a motel nightstand and forgot all about it. 

Luciel caught his worried look and immediately straightened up, putting her hands on her hips like she had everything under control. Her lips were pale from the cold, but her voice came out strong. 

“Fear not! The one who shares my blood—the keeper of all human knowledge—already taught me.” 

Well. At least that meant Seojun didn’t have to explain it with his own tragically limited vocabulary. 

“Okay. Good. As long as you know what you’re doing.” 

Honestly, Seojun would’ve felt better with something heavy in his hands. A bat, a crowbar, anything solid. But his hands were empty, and wishing wouldn’t change that. No amount of regret would summon the axe he should’ve brought. 

So Seojun kept quiet.    

He had a habit of beating himself up over things he couldn’t change, but at least he never let it paralyze him. This was no different. Rather than stand there drowning in useless thoughts, he did the only practical thing he could think of—cleared a patch of floor with his foot and dropped into push-ups. 

Up. Down. Up. Down. 

The freezer grew colder by the minute. No fire. No signal. No help. Might as well use his body to make some heat while he still could. 

He’d barely started when a scream tore through the silence.

Luciel had been doing jumping jacks nearby, fighting off the cold. She froze mid-jump, breath catching in her throat.   

“Dennis?” 

She rushed to the door and pressed her ear against the metal, then jerked back with a sharp cry.   

“Ah!” 

The frozen surface had bitten into her skin like ice-cold teeth. She stumbled backward, lungs seizing in the frigid air, and collided with something solid. She panicked, limbs flailing, the tendons in her neck pulled taut as piano wire. The shadows beneath her eyes carved deep hollows into her face, making her look gaunt, almost skeletal in the dim light.   

Seojun loomed above her.   

She tilted her face up to meet his gaze, pupils dilated with terror.   

Seojun’s hands, which had been gripping her shoulders, gradually relaxed. One hand rose to his lips in a slow, deliberate gesture.   

Gentle. Controlled.   

Shhh. 

But his eye—that dark, unfathomable eye—told an entirely different story.   

Luciel’s knees gave out. Seojun caught her elbow—not roughly, but with steady hands before she hit the ground. His fingers traced along her wrist and found the pepper spray clenched in her grip. One tap. Light. Deliberate.  

Her eyelashes fluttered once, then twice.  

When her eyes opened again, the panic had crystallized into something harder, sharper. The trembling ceased. Without a word, she flicked off the safety cap with her thumb. 

Click. 

The sound rang out in the stillness. 

Then— 

A scream. 

High and wet, a terrible sound torn from the depths of human terror. 

And just as suddenly— 

Silence. 

Complete. Absolute. The kind of silence that didn’t just fill the air but consumed it. 

Neither of them moved. They stood frozen like statues carved from dread, feet rooted to the floor. 

Their eyes locked in the darkness. The air had become thick and oppressive, pressing in from all sides like wet cement. Seojun’s jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached. His gaze fixed on the door. 

That door. 

Minutes ago, it had been their tomb. 

Now it was the only barrier between them and whatever had ripped that scream from Dennis. 

The freezer’s soundproofing worked both ways—nothing in, nothing out. The silence wrapped around them like a shroud. Without someone deliberately screaming, the outside world might as well not exist.  

And right now, that slab of steel might be the only thing keeping them alive. 

It’s Hamon Camp all over again. That stench of death. That taste of filth. 

The memory slammed into Seojun— Johan’s ragged breathing, the stench of decay soaked into the walls of that rotting kitchen shack, Monster X circling outside like a shark scenting blood. He’d survived worse. Maybe. But nothing had burrowed into his mind quite like those endless hours trapped in Hamon’s death trap.   

Time became meaningless. 

Minutes? Hours? 

The waiting hollowed them out, scraping them clean from the inside like marrow from bone. Neither dared look away from the door. Their eyes burned and muscles twitched from the strain, but they maintained their vigil with the terrible focus of prey watching a predator’s den. 

Behind that steel door, Seojun could feel it… whatever had torn that scream from Dennis. It hadn’t left. It was there, pressed against the other side of the door like a tongue against teeth.   

Waiting. 

Patient. 

Savoring. 

The certainty burrowed into his brain like a parasite, gnawing deeper with each passing second.  

Fatigue crept in, slow and bitter, like frost spidering through glass. Their muscles seized, pulled tight like overworked cables. Every breath felt like dragging lungs through wet cement. Their heartbeats hammered—surely loud enough to betray them, to call whatever lurked beyond the door.  

Still, they watched.  

Still, they waited. 

Then the door swung open. 

Light struck like a physical blow. White-hot. Merciless. 

Luciel’s finger found the trigger. Her body tensed to react—  

Then stopped.  

A figure stood in the doorway, backlit and impossible to make out. She lifted the canister, ready to spray—  

“Luciel!”  

The voice cut through everything.  

She didn’t stop herself. She couldn’t move. Recognition hit her and locked her in place. 

That voice. Seojun heard it too. Felt it pierce the animal terror that had gripped his brain. Luciel stumbled forward, mouth opening and closing before the name burst out: 

“Brown?”  

That bulk. That familiar, comforting presence. It couldn’t be anyone else. 

Brown’s flashlight swept the freezer, sending shadows scurrying into corners. His face emerged from the glare—tight with panic, eyes wild, chest heaving. But when his gaze found Luciel, the terror melted from his face like wax under a flame. 

“Thank god! You’re both safe. Luciel! No—no time. Get out. Now. Hurry!”  

They didn’t need to be told twice. 

They burst out of the freezer like the dead clawing out of graves, gulping down warm air that hit them like summer. Muscles screamed back to life. Nerves lit up like sparks. No frostbite. Everything still worked thankfully. 

Brown’s eyes flicked across them, catching on the details: the oversized gloves on Luciel’s hands, the blue bomber jacket draped over her small frame. Then he grabbed Seojun’s hand, gripping it hard. 

“Thank you. Seriously.” 

“…For what?” 

His hand was warm. Too warm. Not the kind of heat you could pull away from easily. 

If I hold on any longer, he’s gonna think I’m some kind of perv, right? 

Trapped in a minor existential crisis, Seojun reluctantly released the human hand-warmer. He busied himself with slipping back into his jacket as Luciel handed it back, then turned toward the area where Dennis had been.  

That’s when he saw it.  

The blood trail.  

Dark. Fresh. Slick as paint. Leading away from the spot Dennis had screamed from.  

Brown followed his gaze. The smear gleamed under the light of their phones—still wet enough to shine. When Brown spoke, his voice was eerily steady, like someone forcing calm over rising panic. 

“We need to get out of here.”  

And he didn’t just mean the freezer.  

Luciel’s eyes landed on the blood. The color drained from her face so fast Seojun thought she might faint. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.   

“McCullan’s missing too,” Brown added. “Doesn’t matter what happened—we need to get outside. There’s no signal in here. We’ve got to call for help.”  

He was talking to Seojun, but it was clearly meant for Luciel, too. His tone was commanding—unexpected, but it snapped her out of it. She nodded, just once.  

That was all the time they gave fear.  

They ran.  

No plan. No formation. Just pure, adrenaline-fueled escape, tearing through the halls toward the main entrance. 

The factory doors loomed ahead—huge slabs of iron that had once opened so easily. 

Now, they were shut tight. 

The wrongness hit them instantly. Primal intuition whispered the trap had already sprung. 

No one said a word. There was no point.  

They threw themselves at the doors, pounding and shoving with everything they had. Hands, shoulders, knees—they became weapons. Metal scraped skin. Shoes skidded across concrete. The handle rattled like brittle bones.  

Nothing.  

They didn’t budge.  

The doors might as well have been welded shut. 

“W-why won’t—” Brown’s face flushed purple, veins bulging like worms under his skin as he pushed desperately. “Why won’t it open?!” 

Seojun hurled himself at the doors one last time. It didn’t budge. His legs gave out beneath him, and he hit the concrete hard, lungs screaming for air. 

Then— 

Something warm splattered across his nose. 

He blinked. Reached up. 

His fingers came away slick. 

Blood. Fresh. Still warm. 

Drip. 

A footstep echoed overhead. Slow. Deliberate. 

Three heads snapped upward in perfect sync—Seojun from the floor, Luciel and Brown still pressed to the doors like insects pinned to a board. 

The figure on the catwalk above tilted its head. 

A pig.  

Or rather, a man wearing a pig’s head. Blood-stained. The eye sockets hollow and black—but somehow, watching. A cleaver hung from one hand. Blood dripped steadily from the blade, bits of torn flesh still clinging to the metal. 

Drip. 

Another drop fell. 

This time on the corner of Seojun’s eye, sliding down his cheek like a bloody tear. 

The pig-man leaned over the railing. 

Watching them. 

Weighing them. 

Choosing.