Ethan stayed concealed beneath the floor, the dark, musty air of the hidden space clinging to his skin like a second layer. Above him, the house creaked with secrets, its age-old floors whispering tales of the past. He had just managed to divert the attention of the Sundel Bolong, a storm cloud, her beauty a mask for her deadly intent. Sari, seizing the moment, sprinted up the rickety stairs towards the roof, her feet pounding a desperate rhythm against the aged wood, each step echoing like a drum in the silence of the night. She wanted to head there faster to rescue Trent and the rest before they met their doom.
The Sundel Bolong, with her eyes glowing like coals in the dim light, turned, her hair swirling around her in a vortex of darkness. She sensed the escape, her form gliding across the floor, barely disturbing the dust that lay thick upon it, her pursuit as silent as death itself.
Ethan, believing he was momentarily safe, shifted the tile out of place. But in his rush, he miscalculated, and the tile clattered to the floor, breaking the silence with a sharp, metallic clang. He held his breath, his body taut as a bowstring, listening for any sign that his cover was blown. When no immediate threat came, he slowly ascended, emerging into the room under the shadow of Adhwa's bed, its wooden frame casting jagged silhouettes across the floor.
Just as he thought he was free, a cold, unyielding grip seized his ankle. Below, in the gloom, was a figure that chilled him to the bone—a Pocong, its body wrapped in the shroud of death, its face a ghastly mask of decay. Its jaw was grotesquely askew,and soiled with dirt all over as if directly emerged from the ground
The Pocong's voice was a hiss from beyond the grave, "I told you I will catch up to you!" Its grip tightened, pulling him back into the darkness. In a panic, Ethan kicked out, his foot connecting with the creature, causing its remaining eye to pop from its socket, blood trickling from where its nose once was. Yet, it grinned, a macabre display of sharp, decayed teeth, maggots squirming between them.
"Budi! Noo!" Ethan's scream was raw with horror as he remembered of Mr Budi, he was probably dead by now. The Pocong taunted him with cruel words, "That fat fuck! He was strong but he's just a stupid mortal." The insult felt like a physical blow, and Ethan's grip on the edge of the floor above loosened.
As he started to slip back into the abyss, he lashed out with his foot, severing the connection between the Pocong's head and body. He then rushed out of the hole leaving the Pocong headless below. The Pocong not accepting defeat picked up its head and threw it through the hole on the roof. Its eyes glaring with malicious intent. It lunged at Ethan, its dirty brown teeth sinking into his arm, the pain like liquid fire spreading through his veins.
In a frenzy, Ethan dashed to the door, using it to crush the head against the frame, the sound of each impact like the tolling of doom while screaming until it fell off his arm. He suddenly heard a racket from the hall outside and he peered to see right there on the stairs the Sundel Bolong, she was now descending, her presence like a sudden drop in temperature, the air around her thick with the scent of decay. Ethan slammed the door shut, the lock clicking into place just as she collided with it, the wood shuddering under her force.
Back in the room, the headless body of the Pocong rose, groping blindly for its head. Ethan, with adrenaline fueling his actions, threw the head back down, watching as both body and head fell into the darkness. He quickly replaced the tile, barricading it with whatever furniture he could drag over, his movements frantic.
Now, truly trapped, the sounds of banging from both behind the door and beneath the floor filled the room, a symphony of terror. Ethan, his heart a frantic beat in his chest, felt the weight of his decision to come to Indonesia, where the night seemed to hold more than just darkness.
He them quickly remembered the salt and ash mixture the shaman had shown them. With trembling hands, he reached into his pocket took out the mixture and poured it along the doorframe, creating a protective barrier. As he did, the relentless banging from the Sundel Bolong ceased, a heavy silence settling in the room, broken only by the faint sound of his own ragged breathing. Heart racing, he rushed to the hole in the ground, pouring the salt in a meticulous circle around it, hoping to ward off the Pocong. For a moment, he felt a flicker of hope as the eerie sounds stopped, and the room fell into an unsettling stillness, the air thick with tension.
But then, an unnatural chill crept through the air, wrapping around him like icy fingers, and he felt a presence behind him. Turning slowly, he saw the Sundel Bolong emerging from the open window and crawling inside, it then stood on the walls defying gravity and walked up to the ceiling where it moved closer to him all while upside down, her long hair cascading down to the floor like dark silk, brushing against the ground. Panic surged through him as he unlatched the door, flinging it open in a desperate attempt to escape. Just then, he noticed the grave mistake he had made. A strong gust of wind swept into the room, howling like a banshee, and with it, the salt he had carefully placed on the door was whisked away, scattering like lost hopes into the corners of the room.
As the wind died down, Ethan's breath caught in his throat. Before him, the Pocong appeared, standing upright at the door, its head popping up from the ground, a sinister grin stretching across its decaying face, the remnants of its burial shroud hanging loosely around its form. "Hello," it taunted, its voice a chilling whisper that echoed in the silence, sending shivers down his spine. The creature glided into the room, its body now even paler and more rotten, the stench of decay filling the air like a suffocating blanket. Ethan felt his heart pound violently against his ribcage, fear wrapping around him like a suffocating shroud.
He could taste the metallic tang of fear in his mouth, a bitter reminder of the danger he faced. The Pocong's eyes glowed with a malevolent light, and as it moved closer, Ethan could see the remnants of its past life reflected in its hollow gaze. Each step it took echoed in his mind like a death knell, the sound reverberating through the silence, a reminder of his impending doom. He was trapped, and the realization hit him like a physical blow—he had underestimated the power of the spirits he was dealing with.
The room seemed to close in around him, the walls pulsating as if they were alive, and the shadows morphed into grotesque shapes, mocking him. Ethan's breath quickened, and he felt a cold sweat trickle down his back, his body frozen in place as the Sundel Bolong and the Pocong reached for him simultaneously. The Sundel Bolong's hair brushed against his skin while the Pocong's decaying hand extended toward him, fingers curling like the roots of a long-dead tree.
In that moment of horror, Ethan screamed so loudly that it echoed throughout the room, a visceral cry of terror that seemed to shake the very foundations of the house. The sound reverberated off the walls, mingling with the chilling laughter of the spirits as they closed in on him, leaving him to confront the darkness that awaited.