I’ve come back to life as a prophet in a B-grade horror film that bombed at the box office in the summer of 1999 and faded into obscurity. Luckily, I managed to survive, not as the female lead who witnesses all the horrors, nor as the handsome male lead who you’d expect to survive but tragically dies. I’m not the sleazeball who gets offed in a particularly gruesome way after hitting on every woman in sight, nor the best friend of the female lead who shares a fleeting romantic moment with a lover in an obviously creepy forest. Nope, I’m the prophet. As a prophet, I thought my role was just to warn the main characters and then exit the scene, but… [Choking… Coughing… Wheezing…] An alien creature, known only as Monster X, has taken an unsettling interest in me. [Heavy breathing…] And as if that’s not enough, a gas mask-wearing, knife-wielding maniac decides to skip heading to the cabin where the protagonists are and make a pit stop at the convenience store where I’m working. What’s going on? Why is all this happening to me, a mere side character?! Come for the romance, stay for the horror.