Janu groaned as he pushed himself off the damp earth. His entire body ached, but at least nothing felt broken. The last thing he remembered was the deafening gong in the Pasar Ghaib, then the world twisted, and now he was here.
Wherever here was.
He took a deep breath, scanning his surroundings. The thick jungle loomed around him, its towering trees blotting out most of the moonlight. The air was dense, heavy with moisture, and the distant hum of insects droned in his ears. His clothes were damp with sweat, and his fingers stung from where gravel had scraped against his palms.
"Alright…" he muttered, shaking off the dizziness. "Let's see what kind of fresh hell I landed in now."
Janu reached for his backpack, relieved to find it still strapped to his shoulders. He quickly rummaged through its contents, water bottle, flashlight, lighter, a few energy bars, a small first aid kit, magnesium fire starter, thermal blanket, poncho and a pocket knife. Everything was still there.
At least something was going his way.
Then, reality hit him like a truck.
"Fuck," he muttered, rubbing his face. "Why the hell did I even agree to this stupid hiking trip?"
He could have been back home, working at his boss's grocery shop, stocking shelves, and dealing with nosy customers. Instead, he was separated from his group in the middle of a goddamn jungle, playing a lead role in what felt like a cursed horror film.
"This is what I get for trying to be adventurous," he grumbled, standing up. "Never again. Next time, I stay home and mind my own damn business."
With no other choice, Janu started walking. He had no idea where the others were, and the eerie silence of the forest did nothing to ease his nerves. He moved cautiously, stepping over exposed roots and thick undergrowth, muttering complaints under his breath.
Then, he saw it.
The cemetery.
His breath caught in his throat as he stumbled to a stop. Just ahead, partially hidden by the trees, was an old, forgotten graveyard. The tombstones were simple, weathered, and covered in moss. Many were leaning, some broken, and the soil between them looked disturbed—uneven, like it had been dug up and left to settle again.
Janu's stomach churned. "Oh, hell no."
Every rational instinct told him to avoid it at all costs. Cemeteries, especially old, nameless ones, were never a good sign. Superstition or not, he knew better than to walk through one at night.
He turned on his heel, determined to find another path. But as he moved away from the cemetery, he was met with an impenetrable wall of elephant grass, swaying despite the lack of wind. The path he had come from was gone, swallowed by the overgrowth. He took a cautious step toward the grass, reaching out to part it
Something moved.
Not the grass. Something in it.
A shiver ran down his spine. He took a slow step back. Then another.
"Nope. No. Not dealing with whatever the fuck that is."
Reluctantly, he turned back toward the cemetery. Between an unmarked graveyard and whatever was inside that grass, he'd take his chances with the dead.
He stepped past the rusted metal gate, the hinges groaning in protest. The moonlight barely illuminated the path ahead, casting long shadows over the graves.
Janu exhaled sharply, forcing himself forward. His eyes flicked across the tombstones. All of them had the same inscription.
Mr. X
Mrs. X
The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. Unidentified graves. The kind used for bodies with no names, no families, no history.
He swallowed hard. "Yeah, that's not creepy at all."
Then—
The ground trembled.
The dirt between the graves began to crack. Bright red light seeped through the cracks, pulsating like embers in a dying fire. Janu's pulse skyrocketed.
Then, they rose.
Grave after grave, pocong emerged from the earth, their white burial shrouds tight around their bodies. The air filled with the sickening scent of decayed flesh.
Janu stood frozen. He wanted to run—his instincts screamed at him to move—but his legs refused to listen.
One by one, the pocong turned their heads toward him. Snapping.Twisting. Their hollow, sunken eyes locked onto him.
"…Oh, fuck me."
Then, in unison..
The pocong lurched forward.
A voice rang inside his head.
"RUN!"
Janu didn't need to be told twice. He bolted, his feet pounding against the dirt, lungs burning as he pushed himself forward. He didn't know where he was going, only that he needed to get the hell away.
Then
"LEFT!"
Janu barely hesitated. He turned left and something lashed out from where he had just been. The air itself twisted, as if something unseen had swiped at him.
"GO THROUGH THE GRASS!"
"The hell I will!" Janu snapped aloud, panting. "There's something in there!"
"Better that than the ones behind you."
Janu chanced a glance back. The pocong were still chasing him—but something was wrong.
They weren't attacking yet. They were following. Observing.
As if they were waiting for something.
His blood ran cold.
"Fine, fine, fine—FUCK IT!"
Janu threw himself into the elephant grass. The sharp blades scratched against his skin as he pushed forward, breath ragged. The moment he entered, the voices of the pocong stopped.
Silence.
His chest heaved. His pulse pounded in his ears. The voice spoke again.
"You're safe. For now."
Janu, still catching his breath, narrowed his eyes. "Okay, what the actual fuck is happening?"
A low chuckle. "I have always been with you, Janu."
Janu tensed. That name—his name—is spoken so familiar yet so distant.
"I've protected you since you were a child," the voice continued. "And now… you finally hear me."
Janu exhaled sharply, gripping his knees. "Yeah? And what exactly are you?"
The voice didn't hesitate.
"I am what your ancestors call Parakang."