Wednesday, May 24, 2006

Haunting Clock from Malaysia - by Ali Osman

I once owned an old wall clock which was possessed.

The clock would function normally but whence came midnight, it would stop mysteriously. All I had to do was push the pendulum to swing and it would work again - until came midnight, of course.

At first, I thought it could be the position of the hands at midnight that were brushing against each other, causing the jam. But then, at midday when the hands were in exactly the same position as midnight, the clock never stopped. I was puzzled so I decided to send the clock to my friend, Mohammed, who was a skilled watch technician. After a day, Mohammed rang me up and urged me to take the clock back.

"A strange thing happened," he said. "The clock, upon midnight, starts to 'ding-dong non stop'".

Those were his exact words. He said he had to manually stop the pendulum from swinging, to stop the clanging.

I was tickled.

The next day, when I visited Mohammed at the shop, he looked tired and jumpy.

Mohammed said in Malay, "Jam kau masuk hantu, lah" - (Your clock is possessed by an evil spirit) He advised me to throw it away, but I couldn't, it was my late father's favourite clock.

I remember the day my father brought the clock home. He was so proud of it. He hung it on the wall and dusted it everyday. He would wind it every month without fail. He never let the clock stop, not even once.

Once, when my father was sick and could not get out of bed, he made my mother take care of the clock as if it were a living thing. My mother, being a submissive woman, never objected.

Although tickled, I felt uneasy after hearing the clock was possessed, I left it unused for a couple of days. During those couple of days, my nights were sleepless. I kept dreaming of an ogre pounding a giant club against an enormous brass gong. I would wake up in a sweat, and head would hurt the entire day. I knew my dreams were related to the clock for obvious reasons – the gong.

I realised I had to do something, so I decided to take the clock to a "bomoh" (psychic). I was told of a psychic living in a rural neighbourhood nearby, so I went there without hesitance. The physic was a very old and frail woman who was said to possess powerful spiritual magic. Apparently, she knew I was coming beforehand.

She handled the clock carefully, then mumbled some unintelligible verses. She looked at me and said indeed the clock was possessed, and an angry Jinn was trapped inside it.

I asked her how the Jinn got inside the clock in the first place. She replied it was put in there by my late father. The Jinn granted my father special favours, and in return, my father must feed it and keep the clock clean, for it was its home.

My father did do what was demanded by the Jinn, but when he died, we didn't. We neglected the clock for months, and that meant the Jinn was not fed.

In retrospect, I do remember good things started to happen after my father bought the clock. My father got a pay raise, and my barren sister gave birth to a baby girl - everyone was surprised, even the doctors. Yes, it's true, many good things did happen until my father died 5 years ago.

Maybe the Jinn's resentment had something to do with my wife's miscarriage 4 months ago. I don't want to find that out.

I left the clock with the "bomoh". I didn't want to have anything to do with it anymore. The memory of my father will come from my head and not from the clock.

Moral: Feed your pet tiger, always.

Thursday, May 11, 2006

Paranormal - The Campus Imp - by Mario.

I was teacher once at Central Philippines University.

One night, reluctantly, I stayed behind after school hours to prepare the next day's test paper. I said "reluctantly" becuase it was a well known myth that the campus was haunted. Here is the account of what happened.

There I was, in my class, minding my work when I heard a “thud” sound coming from upstairs. Instead of jumping to obvious mythical conclusions, I discounted the thud as being caused by some unlucky colleague who was working late as well. Knowing I wasn’t the only one working, comforted me. I went on with my work.

Minutes of serenity passed. Then, I heard running steps coming from above. I was more curious than scared. I wanted to know why this person was running, so I got out of my class and made my way upstairs.

Upstairs, in one of the classrooms, the lights were turned on so I walked toward it. I peeped through the window but saw no one. I called, “hello, hello, anyone there?” There was no reply. I tried to open the doors but they were locked. I looked a bit more, then gave up, thinking whoever it was may have rushed to the toilet or the snack vending machine. It was too much trouble, so I returned to my class.

About half an hour or so later, I heard a laughter. It was a child like, high pitched, laughter coming from above! Right then, I was spooked. My imagination started to run wild. But I wasn't going to conclude anything until I saw with my own eyes what it was, so I dumped all my things in my bag, carried it with me and went upstairs again.

Peeping stealthily through the lovered windows, I scanned the room. Suddenly, something dashed accross the room, from left to right. It was a little hairy creature! Seeing the strange creature didn't scare me more than a start, but what happened next, did.

The creature ran from the left side of the room to the center, and Whoosh! It disappeared! In thin air, it disappeared!

Scared, I ran off without even looking back. My heart was pumping like it was going to burst out of my chest, I remember.

I swear, this is not my imagination! It was real!

I only saw it’s hairy back. It was around 3 to 4 ft in height. At first, I thought it was a chimpanzee. But upon further inquisition, I realised it was a popular mythical IMP, not a CHIMP. It was upright, ran on two legs like a little child and it didn’t have long “chimp” arms.

I was immidiately convinced the myth is not a myth, it's real. I saw it with my own eyes.

--Read more Asian Ghosts Stories at www.eerietales.com

Monday, May 08, 2006

Ghosts, Demons, Lost Souls, Vampires, Spirits

Here is the first story I promised. This is my personal experience.

The Sinking Grave Stone
It was a Friday, the day we had to hand up our photography assignment. My friend, Josie, had not done hers, making our teacher very unhappy, but he still granted her the weekend to complete her assignment anyway. Josie was in a tight spot, she had to work on the weekends to pay for her photography lessons, and today was the only day available to her. But, the day was already nearing dusk.

Right after our Friday lesson, I suggested to Josie we shot some grave stones at a nearby cemetery. She was apprehensive at first but relented after a little persuasion, and provided - I accompanied her.

We reached the cemetery just nearing sunset. With the sky darkening every minute, we had to hurry. Josie picked the very first subject she saw, a well weathered stone sculpture of Mary, and began fixing her camera up on the tripod.

While she was busy, I scrutinised the workmanship on Mary. Such dedication, such beauty, yet the artist is virtually unknown, I thought. I felt a little depressed and lonely thinking about his life.

Suddenly, I thought I saw the sculpture move - it tipped a little to the left! I felt a sudden chill ran up my spine, giving me goose pimples. Fearing freaking out, I denied what I saw; I didn't even tell Josie, fearing she freak out herself.

When Josie finished photographing Mary, we walked around a little more, given there was still daylight, and Josie shot more grave stones.

After spending about 45 minutes at the cemetery, I realised enough was enough. Even though I tried not to think about Mary's tilting figurine, I still sweat about it. I suggested that we got out of there before it got totally dark.

Packing up, Josie realised that she was missing an equipment - a 50mm lens. We backtracked until we reached a spot where we found the lens. Sighing with relieve, Josie bent down and picked it up. Looking around, we realised had come back to the very spot Josie had shot Mary's figurine earlier.

But there was no Mary!

We were puzzled. We knew for certain Josie had not used the lens for the other shoots, so the lens could only have been left behind near Mary's figurine. We searched frantically for 'Mary' but didn't find her. Rather, in place of her, was a dark patch on the ground. I walked toward it--it was a hole!

Had Mary sunk? I thought.

Then, we heard rusting noise coming from the hole. I leaped back in a start, causing Josie to shriek. The sound turned into a low rumbling voice. It said something, but we didn't make out what it was because Josie had grabbed me by the arm as soon as she heard the voice and pulled me away. We bolted out of there as fast as we could, droping Josie's water bottle in the process.

We were so fear stricken that we didn't dare talk about it.

Oh yes, about the film--All other gravestones were exposed well except Mary! I'm puzzled to this day how, in place of Mary, were totally black frames.

I went back to the cemetery on Monday with some classmates(without Josie), Mary was still standing at her spot with Josie's water bottle at her feet! I swear, I felt chills all over. With the help of my friends, I felt brave enough to try to move Mary, but her base was firmly set in the ground -- she didn't budge.

I don't know what to make of this phenomenon, do you?
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