...
In a school located in Clam Town, North America—
"Horror movies, I'm back with my brothers again. Today, we're going to continue watching the legendary American horror series…"
Just a few days ago, Eren had been on the second floor of his old place, casually charging his phone while watching detailed horror movie breakdowns online.
That was supposed to be a completely normal day.
Instead, on what was supposed to be his so-called "day of great luck," he ended up being thrown into this bizarre world—and as if mocking him, the damn TV he had been watching was still sitting back on the second floor of his old life.
At first, he was completely lost and thought, 'Just where the hell has the transmigration service dumped me time?'
Eren transmigrated into another world, this time not as a soldier, and certainly not as a titan shifter despite what his name might suggest, but as a plain American citizen.
At first, he was completely lost and thought, just where the hell has the transmigration service dumped him? After all everyone knows unless you are in a slice of world!
You will definitely be transmigrated in a world where there is more danger than your bank balance.
At first everything was normal. No Avengers, No Mutants, No Superman.
Just when he thought it might be a normal world, he discovered something bizarre: in his hands was a mysterious deck of cards, and floating in front of him was a glowing system notice.
[Alert: The traces of Evil Entity have been detected!]
Eren's reaction was immediate. "MOTHERFUCKER."
And just like that, his so-called peaceful American life came crashing down.
This was not an ordinary world at all.
This was a nightmare realm where every horror movie, every creepy urban legend, and every supernatural monster from his previous world's fiction existed in full terrifying reality.
Slasher killers, demonic spirits, cursed dolls, and eldritch abominations roamed freely as if they had been waiting for him to arrive.
Thankfully, Eren wasn't entirely powerless.
The system explained that with the deck of cards, he had been given the ability to fight back.
Using the system, he could capture ghosts, exorcise undead, seal away evil spirits, and even challenge monstrous evil gods.
It was a twisted game of survival where the only way to live was to fight horror with even greater horror.
There was, however, one tiny little problem.
The system refused to do the fighting for him.
Every ghost hunt, every exorcism, every bloody encounter had to be carried out by Eren himself, no matter how terrifying the enemy was.
To make things worse, the more he looked at his cards, the more confused he became.
"If you're just a damn system, then what's the actual use of these stupid cards?" he shouted.
[Note: The cards are for Aura farming.]
Eren blinked. "…Oh."
In his mind, Eren now carried an additional presence: a strange phantom card. He didn't even need to think too hard to know that this card was the culprit responsible for dragging him into this nightmare version of North America. Every time he looked at the phantom card, a line of eerie text appeared.
It was During a random encounter with a priest from the Vatican, the phantom card suddenly displayed a new prompt.
[Alert: The traces of Evil Nun have been detected!]
That was when Eren froze.
The Ghost Nun wasn't some vague urban legend—he remembered her clearly. She was a terrifying character from the Conjuring series, one of the most infamous American horror icons.
Seeing her name written out by the system was enough to make him break into a cold sweat.
Here, gunfights and bullets weren't the real problems.
Those were just background noise.
The real terror came from the unexplainable things—the malicious evil spirits, ghosts that could tear you apart in your sleep, serial killers who wandered the streets at night, and bizarre Deformed People who looked human but weren't.
Each encounter wasn't just dangerous; it was truly life-threatening.
What made it worse was the attitude of the ghosts in this world.
They weren't like in the movies where they sometimes targeted specific people for revenge.
No, here they didn't discriminate.
They slaughtered indiscriminately, killing anyone unlucky enough to cross their path.
They didn't care about grudges—they only cared about blood.
Eren cursed his own stupidity. 'If I had known this was coming, why the hell did I waste my time watching horror movie explanations? Why didn't I just watch sappy romance flicks or some dumb comedy shows?'
At least then, he wouldn't have ended up in a nightmare where horror movie villains were alive and thriving.
And now, the question that haunted him: was he really supposed to try and contain the Ghost Nun?
[Please Master work hard! Since Master has received his otherworld cheat! The Helpline System will now disengage. If you die again, don't worry even if your soul is tormented by the Evil God, the transmigration agency will make sure to give you another life]
Hearing that he started cursing the system, he even used the curses in all the languages he knew.
English, Hindi, Chinese, Bengali, French.
You name it, and he cursed it.
But in the end system stopped replying, leaving only a basic system and the cards acting as a stupid Aura farming tool.
'Should have named yourself Aura farming system', Eren thought grumbling.
Now he either had to brave himself and make full use of his system or become some Evil Spirit's desecration.
He wondered if he should try to capture the Evil Nun.
He scoffed at the idea. 'Are you kidding me? That thing's not just a ghost. That's a demon god sealed inside a monastery's Hellgate. Do you honestly expect a normal guy like me to "contain" her?' The thought was laughable.
Of course, as terrifying as it all sounded, there was one small mercy—at least he wasn't dead yet.
At least, for now, he was still breathing.
But survival in this world was not guaranteed, and his luck could run out at any moment.
What truly worried him wasn't just the Ghost Nun.
It was the possibility of encountering even greater terrors.
What if he accidentally triggered something tied to The Cloverfield Paradox?
Or stumbled into the cursed isolation of The Lighthouse?
What if The Mist rolled into his town?
Or, even worse, what if he woke up one day staring into the abyss of The Call of Cthulhu?
Those weren't simple horror stories anymore—those were scenarios worse than hell itself.
Right now, Eren had a total of 54 phantom cards in his possession. The cards were divided into four categories: Diamonds, Hearts, Spades, and Clubs. At first glance, it almost seemed laughably simple—like playing a casual round of Landlord or Poker.
But he quickly learned the system wasn't a game.
[Note: The number of phantom cards does not limit the number of horrors you can contain.]
Among these cards, the most powerful were the Kings (K), Queens (Q), Jacks (J), and the Big Joker and Little Joker.
These were independent of the four categories and were also known as the Big Ghost and Little Ghost.
The Ace (A) belonged to its own category as well, considered a special card. The rest of the deck consisted of number cards ranging from Two to Ten.
The Kings and Queens each had their own special domains and unique powers. Every phantom card began as a blank slate, an empty surface.
But once Eren successfully contained a horror, the essence of that creature would merge with the card, transforming it into one of his subordinates.
That was the core rule of the phantom card system: every horror you captured became both a weapon and a servant.
And yet, out of all 54 cards, the only ones Eren could actually use right now were the weakest ones—the Little Twos.
Even if he combined all of them together, they weren't nearly enough to contain the Ghost Nun. After all, her true nature wasn't just that of a ghost; she was a demon god.
Could something as weak as a Little Two realistically capture a being like that? Or would the card simply explode under the overwhelming pressure?
Eren had no doubt about it—the moment he had spoken to that Vatican priest, he had probably already been marked.
The Ghost Nun most likely knew of his existence now. And for someone of her level, destroying him would be nothing more than a casual pastime, like swatting a fly.
That was why he couldn't just sit around waiting for death.
He didn't want the Ghost Nun showing up one day at his door, smiling with those horrible black eyes.
So, he decided: he needed to use the phantom cards to capture and contain lesser ghosts first, building his strength before facing anything on her level.
Because in this world, Eren didn't believe in God, in holy crosses, or in priests with blessings. He believed only in one thing: that horror itself could be used to fight against horror.
The only problem was that this so-called "first step" was proving to be harder than anything he had faced before.
Still, his thoughts didn't have too much time to wander. Today was supposed to be a rare break from the constant tension.
He had already agreed to meet a few friends from outside school to go sightseeing and relax in North Carolina.
But the moment he heard the state's name, Eren's face darkened.
North Carolina. It sounded… familiar. Too familiar. Like it was the setting of far too many horror incidents in the stories he used to watch.
Try as he might, he couldn't remember exactly why—but deep in his gut, he knew this wasn't going to be just a casual trip.
'Should I go out?', Eren knew this how the horror movies began but then he thought, he is already in a fucked-up situation.
Either he will die now or tomorrow, better take a risk away from wherever that Priest having Evil Nun's traces has gone than die just because he attracted her attention because his soul is unique due to his transmigration.
...
Noon.
On a winding, isolated road in North Carolina, a jeep was speeding down the highway. Both sides of the road were lined with dense, shadowy forests, the kind where sunlight could barely filter through the thick canopy of trees.
Inside the jeep were six people—three men and three women.
Among the six, two pairs were obvious couples.
Scott and Carly were one pair, constantly whispering to each other and glued together like typical lovers on a road trip.
The other couple was less familiar to Eren; he didn't know them well enough to even bother remembering all their details.
The last woman was Jesse.
She wasn't paired with anyone, and she was the one who had actually invited Eren along on this trip.
Jesse had that classic American look: a short crop top that showed her toned stomach, standard tight-fitting jeans, and a deliberately bronzed wheat-colored skin tone that came from intentional tanning sessions.
In America, tanning wasn't just common—it was practically a trend. People who were already beautiful wanted to look even more "healthy" and "golden." Jesse was no exception.
Eren didn't really care about beauty standards.
What he cared about was survival.
That was why, even when agreeing to travel with her, he hadn't forgotten to bring what he jokingly referred to as his "Equality for All" weapon.
It was nothing more than a standard handgun, but in a world like this, even a handgun could give him a tiny sense of security.
The day looked perfect.
Blue skies stretched across the horizon, fluffy white clouds floated lazily, and even though they had taken a shortcut due to traffic, the scenery along the road was charming and pleasant.
It was the kind of drive that should have been calm and relaxing.
Everything looked perfect—until it wasn't.
First, the jeep had a flat tire. Then, before they even had time to react, another vehicle rammed into them from behind.
Scott, ever the hothead, immediately jumped out of the jeep to confront the driver of the other car. While he was busy arguing, Jesse glanced down at her phone with a frown, repeatedly swiping her screen. Her face twisted with frustration, and then she turned to Eren.
"This broken place has no signal at all. Eren, do you have any signal on your phone?"
The moment he heard the words no signal, Eren's heart dropped. His nerves tensed instantly, because he knew exactly what that phrase meant.
Classic American horror scenario: no signal.
He then looked at the man from the other car and suddenly recognized him. The guy was Chris. Once Eren put two and two together, it clicked instantly. He remembered why Chris was here, and with that realization, his worst fears solidified.
This wasn't just a random car accident.
This was the setup to Wrong Turn.
The infamous American splatter horror film. The one about the group of tourists who stumble into the hunting grounds of Deformed Ogres—mutated killers born from inbreeding and chemical pollution. Monsters that hunted people not for revenge, but purely for sport and food.
As if confirming his suspicion, the phantom card that Eren had been absentmindedly fiddling with in his hand lit up and displayed a message.
[Note: Detected containment object 'DEFORMED OGRE']
Looking at the words made him feel like as if he was some cheap rip-off of an SCP agent.
'Seriously what's next? Scarlet King shows up?', Making a dark joke to himself and setting more than thousand death flags, he took a deep breath.
Eren's eyes immediately shifted toward the tree line surrounding the road. The forest seemed too quiet, the silence heavy and unnatural.
He knew exactly what kind of creatures the Deformed Ogres were.
They were stronger than ordinary humans by far, with monstrous endurance and unnatural resistance to damage.
Normal punches and kicks did nothing to them, and even blunt weapons like sticks or pipes weren't enough to bring one down in a direct fight.
On top of that, they were skilled with a wide range of weapons, often homemade but brutally effective.
And the most terrifying fact of all—there wasn't just one of them.
There were three brothers, and they worked together.
They weren't just brutes.
They hunted as a unit.
Dangerous. Extremely dangerous.
But at the same time, Eren couldn't help but think that maybe—just maybe—this was also an opportunity.
'At least compared to other evil spirits, demon gods, or whatever else, these ones can actually be hunted with a gun,' Eren thought, running his hand along the weapon's grip.
While Scott was still shouting at Chris, Jesse stepped out of the jeep and walked over to check what was happening.
After a short exchange, she came back and leaned into the car, addressing Eren directly.
"Eren, do you want to come with us to call for vehicle rescue, or do you want to stay here with Evan and the others while you wait?"
Eren glanced at Chris again, carefully listening to his explanation for being out here. The more he heard, the more certain he became of the situation.
He didn't hesitate. "It's better if we don't split up. It's not safe here. I've heard about this area—it's crawling with Deformed Ogres."
Originally, Eren had no intention of interfering too much. His plan had been simple: stay cautious, keep his distance, and avoid unnecessary risks. But after a moment of consideration, he changed his mind.
Because more people meant higher chances of survival. And when the time came to run, he wouldn't need to be the fastest—he would only need to make sure there was someone slower than him.
"Deformed Ogres? Buddy, are you seriously trying to make us laugh?" Evan couldn't hold back his laughter, practically doubling over at the absurdity.
The others chuckled too. None of them believed it. Of course they didn't.
Classic horror scenario—no one ever believed until it was too late.
'You know what, buddy? You just raised your death flag,' Eren thought. At least he felt a little better knowing he could use them as cannon fodder.
'If I'm stuck with teammates this stupid, and their chances of dying are already over nine thousand, then it's not my fault if I can't save them… right?' he told himself.
Eren clenched his jaw but didn't argue further.
What was the point? He had no choice but to follow along with Jesse, Chris, Scott, and Carly as they started walking down the road.
The idea was to see if they could find a spot with cell reception and call for a tow truck or roadside rescue.
He knew exactly how this story went.
The moment there was no signal, the death flags had already been raised.
Still, even though he had seen Wrong Turn years ago, the details of the film had mostly slipped his memory.
All he had left was the rough outline: mutated hillbilly cannibals, endless forests, brutal traps, and a lot of gore.
And if he remembered correctly, it wasn't just one movie. It had been stretched into an entire series.
Which basically meant: the killers couldn't be killed.
Or at least, not easily.
They just kept coming back.
Chris noticed Eren's unusually cautious expression and laughed dismissively. "Buddy, relax a little. This is America. How could there possibly be something like 'Deformed Ogres' running around? That's just a campfire story."
Eren didn't bother correcting him.
He wasn't cautious because of some baseless paranoia—he was cautious because he remembered how the movie ended.
The local cops who showed up thought they were in control, and yet they still ended up getting taken out, one of them getting his skull blown apart by a hidden arrow.
A golden headshot from the shadows. A quick, stupid, unfair death. That was exactly the kind of ending he didn't want for himself.
The group spread out along the road, searching as they walked.
Eventually, they came across a fork in the road. At the end of one narrow path, they spotted an old shack.
Smoke was curling lazily from the chimney, the faint smell of burning wood drifting in the air. Scattered around the outside were several rusted cars, clearly abandoned long ago, their windows shattered and paint eaten away by time.
Chris, ever the optimist, immediately suggested they check it out. Without hesitation, the group started moving toward the shack.
Eren's stomach tightened. He didn't need anyone to explain. He already knew what those cars meant. They weren't just old junk. Those vehicles had belonged to tourists—unlucky travelers who passed through this road and never made it out. Victims who had been hunted down and eaten.
For a moment, Eren wanted to curse out loud.
'Seriously, what the hell were the police doing in this place? Do they even patrol? Or do they just let people vanish?'
And of course, as always, the damn phone had no signal. A broken piece of junk at the worst possible time.
And the worst part? Deformed Ogres weren't even evil spirits. Which meant the lousy signal wasn't supernatural at all—it was just the courtesy of terrible mobile companies.
"Hey… maybe we shouldn't go in there," Jesse said suddenly, slowing down as she looked at the shack. Her unease was written all over her face.
Chris waved her off. "What are you afraid of? There's six of us. Nobody's gonna touch us. And who knows how far the next intersection is? If it gets dark, we're screwed. Better to check this place out while we can."
Without waiting for agreement, he walked up to the door, rapped his fist against the wood, and shouted, "Hello? Anyone home?"
Behind him, the woman from the second couple had already picked up a rusted iron rod lying nearby and was banging it against a wire fence, making loud clanging noises like a curious child poking at a zoo cage.
Eren silently stared at her, his expression flat. In his eyes, it was pure suicidal behavior. The kind of dumb action horror characters always pulled right before dying horribly.
Chris, seeing no one answered, shrugged and simply pushed the door open. He stepped inside without hesitation.
Jesse frowned. "That's… really rude…" But then she saw Eren following right behind Chris, and her protest died on her lips. If he was going in, she wasn't about to stand outside by herself.
The moment they entered, a wave of foul stench hit them.
Everyone instinctively gagged.
The interior was worse than any of them expected.
On the table sat not just leftover "food," but the unmistakable remains of human flesh—rotting pieces of people.
Nearby, dried, blackened bloodstains covered surfaces in uneven smears. Every corner of the shack was cluttered with trash and disturbing objects: cracked jars, rusted tools, and broken furniture stacked together like a hoarder's nest.
And in the middle of it all, a large pot simmered over a still-warm fire, the sickening smell of stew mixing with the stench of rot.
It wasn't a home. It was a butcher shop. A dumping ground. A slaughterhouse disguised as a cabin.
While the others muttered in shock and disgust, Eren immediately shifted his focus. He began scanning the room for anything useful, anything that could serve as a weapon. He didn't expect to find a gun, but he hoped for something—anything—that could increase his odds of survival.
Unfortunately, there were no firearms.
No comforting "Equality for All" handgun that he could equip these cannon fodders with.
All that lay scattered around were primitive tools and sharp, rusted blades.
He picked up a tetanus-stained machete, its edge jagged but still lethal enough to cut. Then, after a moment's thought, he grabbed a small knife and handed it to Jesse.
Chris, Scott, and Carly didn't bother picking up anything. They still thought Eren was overreacting, treating this like some kind of scary field trip.
Jesse looked down at the knife in her hand, then at the machete Eren was gripping tightly. Her brows furrowed. "Eren… these belong to someone. We can't just steal other people's stuff."
"Take it," Eren said firmly. His eyes locked with hers, his tone leaving no room for argument. "It's for self-defense. You'll need it."
Jesse hesitated, but when she saw the seriousness in his expression, she sighed, shrugged, and finally tucked the knife into her pocket. "Alright, fine."
Her attitude toward Eren was different compared to the others.
Even though he was technically just another student, there was something about him that set him apart.
Unlike the stereotypical short, scrawny students she was used to seeing, Eren was tall, lean, and sharp-featured. His naturally pale skin and striking looks gave him a presence that was hard to ignore. And, on top of that, there were the rumors—Eren was rich.
Whatever the reason, Jesse trusted him more than the others.
(A/N: Women)
The group continued to explore the shack, poking around with varying degrees of unease.
Then it happened.
A piercing scream from the woman echoed from the back of the house.
Everyone rushed toward the sound. When they entered the innermost room, they froze in horror.
Inside the bathtub lay a dismembered female corpse, her pale flesh bloated and soaking in dark, stagnant water.
The smell was overwhelming.
To be continued...
(A/N: NOTE THAT THIS IS A MTL, AND I HAVE ADDED MY OWN TASTE ON IT)