Its from my local story and im onnthat situation too. Because in my country we have a lot spooky or strange place here and many local ghost/monsters like pocong,genderuwo,kuntilanak etc. There is one of my story.
The wind was cold that night colder than it should’ve been for early evening. My friends and I were halfway up Mount gede, a mountain rumored to be cursed. The villagers had warned us not to climb after sunset, not to whistle, and never to mention the dead. We laughed it off. We were young, curious, and stupid.
But when the forest turned silent when even the crickets stopped singing I realized we weren’t alone.
At first, it was small things. A faint smell of rotting meat. Footsteps crunching behind us, though no one was there. Then, just as we reached a clearing, the light from my flashlight flickered. That’s when I saw it a shadow, massive and hunched, standing between the trees. Its red eyes glowed faintly, staring right at me.
“Genderuwo,” whispered my friend, his voice trembling.
We froze. The thing didn’t move, but the ground seemed to breathe beneath it, as if the earth itself feared its presence. Then, from behind us, a dry laugh echoed high-pitched and cruel. When we turned, a woman in a white dress floated just above the ground, her long black hair covering her face. The stench of blood and decay filled the air, It was the Kuntilanak.
She screamed. It wasn’t just sound — it was pain made noise, piercing our skulls and shaking our bones. I dropped my flashlight, and darkness swallowed us whole.
Then something brushed against my shoulder — cold and heavy. I turned around and saw a figure wrapped in a burial shroud, its head tilting unnaturally to one side. It bounced slightly as it moved closer, the ropes around its body tightening and creaking, A Pocong.
My friend ran, screaming, into the woods. I heard him cry out once, twice then silence. Only the whispering wind answered back.
The Genderuwo stepped out from the shadows, its body covered in coarse black fur, its mouth stretching wide into a grin filled with jagged teeth. The Kuntilanak’s laughter turned into sobs, echoing from every direction. And the Pocong’s head began to shake violently, as if trying to break free from its bindings.
I ran. I don’t remember how far, or for how long. The forest never seemed to end. The whispers followed me names, my name until dawn finally came and the mountain released me.
When I reached the village, they asked where my friends were. I couldn’t answer. I just stared at the mountain, now shrouded in mist.
Sometimes, when the wind blows from that direction, I still hear their voices — calling for help. And when I sleep, I dream of that clearing...
where the Genderuwo and other waits.
Stake : sangebangetdah