The Second Strongest Sorcerer (Jujutsu Kaisen x Male Reader)

Is that camera still rolling?

The camera flickered to life, illuminating the faces of four college students standing atop a desolate mountain in the dead of night. The one at the forefront stepped forward, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he addressed the unseen audience.

"What's up, guys! Today, the Phantom Hunters have finally decided to explore the famous Keiwa haunted asylum."

The camera panned up to reveal the imposing silhouette of an abandoned hospital, its crumbling facade casting disturbing shadows in the moonlight.

"Without further explaining to do, let's go in," the man continued, his voice tinged with excitement as he hoisted the camera onto his shoulder and led the way inside.

One of the girls, her voice trembling with nervousness, spoke up. "W-We... Uh... We're not gonna stay here too long, r-right..?"

The man chuckled, lowering the camera to address her directly. "Come on, we all skipped classes today to get here. Let's get our time's worth."

Another man, his expression more somber, interjected. "I heard... That some high schoolers went missing here recently though."

A sense of unease settled over the group at his words, the atmosphere growing heavy. But the other girl quickly brushed off the concern, her tone infused with false bravado.

"They probably just ran away from their houses. Besides, think of the money we'll make off of this video."

With forced smiles and nervous laughter, the group pressed on, their footsteps echoing ominously through the empty halls of the asylum.

But suddenly, a piercing feminine scream shattered the atmosphere.

As the echoes of the scream faded into the darkness, a silence descended upon the group. Their breath caught in their throats.

"What... What was that?" one of them finally dared to whisper, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart.

With trembling hands, they all turned their flashlights toward the source of the sound, their beams cutting through the oppressive darkness like knives. But to their horror, there was nothing there—only the suffocating emptiness of the abandoned asylum.

"It could be an animal outside—" the other man began, but his words were cut short by a sudden, chilling touch on his face. His blood turned to ice as he realized what it was—a hand.

"W-What's wrong?" the scared girl stammered, her voice barely above a whimper.

"Look... Look up," the man managed to say, his voice trembling with fear.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, they all turned their flashlights toward the ceiling. And there, stood the source of their terror—a group of decomposing, decaying figures, their eyes vacant and hollow, their mouths twisted into grotesque, silent screams.

Clad in tattered patient clothes, they stared down at the group with unseeing eyes, their silent presence suffused with an aura of malevolence.

A collective scream tore through the air as the group fell to their knees, their minds reeling with disbelief and horror. They could hardly breathe as the spectral figures began to lower their hands, reaching out to touch them with fingers cold as death.

But then, in an instant, the atmosphere shifted. All at once, the decaying figures turned their heads in unison, their vacant gazes fixated on the same direction—the direction from which the group had come.

Sensing the sudden change, the group's terror-stricken gazes followed suit, their hearts pounding in their chests as they braced themselves for whatever new horror awaited them in the darkness...

But what followed was merely the sound of a human voice, a stark contrast to the earlier terror-inducing scream

"What the? There are people here?"

It was a voice of reason, devoid of any trace of panic or alarm. It was (Y/N).

With measured steps, (Y/N) approached the group. And as he drew near, the once-horrifying specters seemed to shrink back, their ethereal forms trembling in his presence like deer caught in the glare of headlights.

"Come on, guys. I bet all my money that there was a 'No Trespassing' sign," (Y/N) remarked with a weary sigh.

The group could only stare blankly at him, their minds struggling to process the sudden shift in dynamics.

Then, the corpse spirits finally attacked. Hurtling themselves down on the group. They could only brace themselves, closing their eyes tightly in anticipation of the impending descent.

But to their astonishment, nothing happened.

Slowly, they opened their eyes once more, their hearts pounding in their chests as they beheld a sight beyond comprehension. The spirits, frozen in mid-air, were impaled on a single spear, their forms writhing impotently as they dissolved into nothingness.

And standing amidst the fading remnants of their would-be assailants was (Y/N), his expression calm and composed as he lowered the spear to his side.

The group immediately rushed toward him, seeking refuge behind his steadfast form. They couldn't comprehend the events that had just transpired, but one thing was certain—the man standing before them was their protector.

"Hey, is that camera still rolling?" (Y/N) inquired, his voice steady.

The cameraman quickly glanced at the recording equipment, his fingers deftly checking the status of the camera. After a brief moment of inspection, he nodded in confirmation.

Then, squatting down, (Y/N) requested the device, only to swiftly shatter it with a single hand, eliciting a cry of dismay from the cameraman.

"N-NO! That costs almost $7,000!" he protested.

"Sorry, but try to forget everything that happened tonight," (Y/N) replied calmly, before striding deeper into the hospital.

"You guys go out now. They won't mess with you anymore," (Y/N) assured the group.

"They..?" one of the girls questioned.

(Y/N) simply pointed toward the darkened hallway ahead. As the girl aimed her flashlight, the group witnessed other cursed spirits cowering on the walls, clearly intimidated by the man in front of them.

The horrifying sight still compelled the group to hasten their exit, fear gripping their hearts as they fled the confines of the hospital.