Reborn as a Prophet in a Horror Movie

#181Reader Mode

#181

The batteries worked. Of course they did. The universe had perfect timing—cruel, comedic timing.

“Hi! I’m Sally! Nice to meet you!”

The doll’s voice spoke again, bright and loud. Like it was getting payback for being stepped on. Sweet revenge on repeat.

Somewhere in the dark ahead, the Nurse stirred. Samantha’s head began to turn—a slow, jerky swivel that ended with a wet crack. A suture snapped in her neck.

From behind, she looked like any normal nurse: hair yanked back in that same severe bun, uniform crisp and pressed. But her body moved wrong as she walked. Off-kilter as she swayed. Like it belonged to something still figuring out how to wear human skin.

McCullan didn’t move. Couldn’t. He stood paralyzed, mouth open, eyes wide with horror.

“Uh… uh…”

That tiny sound was all it took.

The Nurse went still. Then every muscle in her body seemed to bulge at once—locked onto him. Ready to strike.

Levi pressed against Seojun’s side, her voice a tight, disbelieving whisper. “That’s Samantha? That’s actually—”

“Hi! I’m Sally! Nice to meet you!”

The doll’s voice cut her off. McCullan jerked back, stumbling to shut the thing up.

Too late.

Samantha moved.

The aimless shambling stopped. She didn’t lurch around blind anymore. She charged—a blur cutting through the darkness like she could suddenly see everything.

If silence could scream, this was it. Seojun’s throat locked up, a strangled cry crushed behind clenched teeth. Every nerve lit up at once. His body flinched, hair standing on end. For once, he didn’t care about making noise. Getting closer to that thing wasn’t happening.

The Nurse had changed. Now she moved like a precise weapon. Debris exploded under her feet. Her claws sliced the air with a sharp whistle. She was tracking the sound, closing in fast.

McCullan only survived by luck. He slipped and hit the floor just as the scalpels swept through where his neck had been. They caught his forehead instead, slicing a thin red line.

“Aaaargh!”

Shut up. Shut up, you idiot!

Seojun cursed under his breath. McCullan had just painted a target on himself, which meant Seojun was safe for now. Lucky break. But watching the guy panic like this was driving him crazy. He was doing everything wrong.

There was one rule for surviving Samantha: freeze and stay quiet. Every instinct would tell you to move, to fight, to run—but giving in meant you were dead. Movement meant dead. Sound meant dead.

And McCullan? McCullan clearly didn’t get the memo.

Seojun rolled his eye, conveniently forgetting his own freak-out moments. Then again… could he really blame the guy? Samantha was too much. That grafted-together body—that walking horror—was the kind of thing that could shatter a person’s mind on sight.

Honestly, if McCullan hadn’t already been half-desensitized from seeing the Factory Manager’s caved in skull earlier, he probably wouldn’t be screaming right now.

He’d have fainted.

Most people would’ve handled it better than McCullan. But Levi? Levi was in a league of her own. She shifted smoothly into position, no hesitation, her body angled just right—one shoulder shielding her head and chest, baton at the ready in her opposite hand. She’d learned fast. Silence was survival. And Levi was a survivor.

McCullan, on the other hand, was a lost cause.

He cried out every time Samantha came at him, each shout just making himself a bigger target. He was trapped in his own panic, flailing around in a fight he couldn’t win.

“G-Get away! I hate cold women like you! Help! Someone help me!”

Safe bet McCullan wasn’t Samantha’s type either. Seojun grimaced. Even about to get ripped apart, McCullan couldn’t stop being a creep. The guy had tried to sacrifice him earlier—using him as bait now would just be returning the favor.

And if Seojun ran, McCullan would die cursing his name, holding onto whatever grudge he could. But curses meant nothing once the lungs that spoke them stopped working. Calling them “strangers” was generous. They were just people who’d met a few hours ago and hadn’t even liked each other from the start.

Seojun owed him nothing.

And yet…

Seojun’s hesitation wasn’t about fear. It was something else. An idea taking shape. Weird as it sounds, he and Samantha were… familiar now. They say humans can get used to anything. Spend enough time around monsters, and the terror fades. The panic dulls. What’s left is cold thinking and sharp focus.

Even nightmares lose their edge if you survive them long enough.

Moments ago, When he’d been the target, Seojun’s mind went blank. But now, watching McCullan flail and dodge for his life, his brain kicked back into gear. Ideas started flowing. He could use her hearing against her. Set a trap.

And yet… he hesitated.

Was McCullan’s life really worth the risk?

Honestly, it was only a moral dilemma because McCullan was such an insufferable asshole.

“Damn it. That bastard—!”

Seojun growled and punched his own thigh. The shock cut through the numbness, cleared his head. Enough. He made his choice. Committed.

He grabbed something from the open locker, shoved it in his pocket, and pulled out his smartphone. His fingers moved fast across the screen. Mute: off. Volume: all the way up.

No shouting. Seojun wasn’t that suicidal.

Instead, he vaulted over the reception desk and took off, sprinting toward the rows of waiting chairs. Levi spun at the sudden movement, eyes wide. For the briefest second, his tall figure rushing toward danger reflected in her green eyes.

There was no time to explain, and talking would only get both of them killed. Seojun raised his hand and pointed hard at the chairs, hoping she’d get it.

Levi nodded.

Whether she actually understood the plan or was just going with it, Seojun didn’t know. But right now, that had to be enough.

Seojun slammed his shoulder into a heavy chair. Metal legs shrieked against the floor.

“Hup!”

His arms shook as he pushed forward. Across from him, Levi’s chair flew toward his—closing the gap—closer—

McCullan stumbled past just as the two chairs crashed together.

Samantha’s torso snapped between them. Her spine made a sick cracking sound. One arm hung limp, elbow bent the wrong way. Her head twisted at a brutal angle, so far back that her face stared up at Seojun from behind her own shoulders.

Everyone froze. No movement. No sound except their own ragged breathing.

Bloody tears welled under the Nurse’s stitched eyelids and ran upward along her forehead, pooling in her hairline. The blood overflowed, dripping to the floor in a slow, steady pat-pat-pat.

Seojun’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking against the cold metal. The sight might’ve been tragic, even haunting—if she hadn’t just tried to kill them.

McCullan was doing enough crying for everyone. He curled up on the floor, blood seeping from dozens of shallow cuts on his arms and face. Snot ran down his chin. His whole body shook with every wet, choking sob.

“Huu… uuugh…”

Shut up!

Seojun clenched his jaw and pushed harder, muscles burning as he got forced backward. The metal chairs screamed against the floor. Samantha’s clawed hands wrapped tight around the chairs trapping her. One by one, her joints snapped back into place. The gap was widening—an inch, then another.

They had seconds. Maybe less.

Seojun’s thumb jabbed play. Then, mustering every scrap of focus he had left, he hurled the phone toward the ER storage room—

Thwack!

“Ack!”

It was a perfect throw, until McCullan ruined it.

Right as the phone arced through the air, McCullan jolted upright, seemingly realizing the Nurse was trapped. He stood directly into the phone’s trajectory and caught it dead center on his forehead.

Now gripping his head, he spun toward Seojun with the most wounded, betrayed glare imaginable.

Seojun glared right back at the stupid bastard.

I’m trying to save this idiot, and he blocks the bait with his face. Literally useless.

The phone clattered against the floor, spinning wildly as it skidded toward the emergency exit. A deep voice boomed from the speaker, echoing through the waiting room. It wasn’t where Seojun had aimed, but loud was loud.

“Jun, why’d you run off? You should’ve stayed for dinner… Worried about the juice? Don’t be. It’s 100% natural, organic, sugar-free. Not a single fake sweetener. I’d bet my whole album on it. Wait—did you think it was tangerine instead of orange juice? Total misunderstanding. Seojun, Jun—listen. Even when the world tries to deceive us sometimes…”

Samantha went rigid.

Her scalpel fingers stopped mid-claw. Her broken neck twitched left. Then right. Then way too far. The stitches holding her eyelids stretched taut as her head tilted up toward the ceiling—before snapping violently down toward the floor.

The cheery voice kept rambling—something about vitamins and proper sleep schedules now—while Samantha’s body jerked and pushed against the waiting room chairs. Her vertebrae clicked all the while. She snapped toward the sound. Then away. Then back again.

Seojun didn’t wait.

He peeled away from the chair, moving slow and low. He caught Levi’s eye and gave a sharp jerk of his chin toward the wall. That was all she needed. They moved together, her sliding away silently until she melted into the ER shadows. The phone wasn’t exactly where Seojun had wanted it, but it was far enough to work.

Seojun pressed a finger to his lips and drilled a glare into McCullan.

Please shut the hell up!

Thankfully, even a screw-up like McCullan spoke the universal language of make a sound and you die. He slapped both bloody hands over his mouth and nose, nodding frantically like his life depended on it. Which, to be fair, it absolutely did.

Samantha staggered forward. Her head swung in stiff, jagged arcs—left, pause, right, pause—as the voice on the phone reeled her in. Her scalpel-fingers twitched with every word. She passed so close to McCullan that rust-colored flakes drifted from her blades onto his shoulder. His nostrils flared under his hands as his whole body shook.

The phone went to the next voicemail message, and a new, shrill voice blew out the speaker:

“If you keep ignoring me like this, I swear I’m gonna make you my dog! You hear me? I’ll buy a collar! With your name on it!”

It was Bobby. Loud, shameless, and barking out deranged threats like always. But the new noise seemed to agitate Samantha. Her spine curled into a tight, violent C-shape. One arm slashed outward—

CLANG!

Three deep gouges carved into the emergency exit doors. The metal peeled back, curling at the edges like flayed skin.

“Shh…”

Seojun grabbed McCullan’s arm and hauled him to his feet while the Nurse was still taking her aggression out on the doors. Levi was already gone, creeping toward the stairwell without a word. They scrambled after her, keeping low and dodging the slick patches of blood on the steps as they climbed to the second floor.

Seojun kept one hand buried deep in his pocket, gripping the object he’d swapped for his phone. His fingers were clamped so tight his knuckles had gone bone-white.

The key from the locker.

He stared up at the shadowy stairwell, heart hammering against his ribs. He had no idea what the key opened, only that it had to be important. He’d risked way too much to walk away empty-handed.