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Acknowledgements
I could not have written this book without being constantly pushed by my good friend Deen. He was the one who convinced me that the time is now, that this book must be written and shared with the world.
I am also most grateful to my wife, who has patiently nudged me to complete this book. She was the first to read the stories ‘fresh off the press’ and she was the first to give me valuable feedback.
I thank Dr. Jawad of Southampton who guided me in writing this book. I am so glad our friendship has passed the test of time.
I acknowledge and thank my former staff and patients in Tutong who shared with me their precious stories and ghostly experiences.
I thank the contributors for the honour of sharing their encounters, in particular Adrina Hj Mohd Agus Din, ‘Bob’, Daisy Abdullah, Feefy Abdullah, Hannah Sim and Liza Ishak. I also thank the contributors who chose to remain anonymous.
In order to make this book possible and affordable, I had family and friends to proofread and review the book. My daughter continues to prove herself to be an excellent proofreader.
I thank my 9-year-old son who would get excited when I have a new story for the book. He would always ask if there were any newer stories.
Fellow authors (the brotherhood & sisterhood) had helped in the editing efforts. I could not have done this without them.
Independent bookstore owners, Deen (Dbookhaus) and TJ (Nollybook) provided much support to me in helping with the preorders. They both continue to be beacons of hope for local authors, both indie and traditionally published.
Let us all continue to play our part in helping each other write and publish as many quality books as we can. Together we will contribute towards nation-building and personal life development.
Introduction
I never thought I would write and compile several short ghost stories. One would think that all ghost stories are the same, but our Borneo ghost stories are far different from what we have seen in the written world and the media.The media has whitewashed our supernatural stories into the same old one, which is essentially the image of a girl dressed in white with long black hair covering her face. The Pontianak vampire is ‘famous’ across Borneo and Southeast Asia.However, on Borneo island, there are so many kinds of supernatural beings. The encounters are usually only mentioned by word of mouth, passing from generation to generation.For example, the Orang Tinggi demon is almost unheard of by locals in West Malaysia, and yet many East Malaysians and Bruneians and also Kalimantan Indonesians are very familiar with this demon.The sightings of the Orang Tinggi demon (which can vary in height from 20 feet to 40 feet or even taller) are many in Sarawak, Brunei, Sabah and Kalimantan.Initially, I had planned to write this book within two weeks, but I realised I had difficulty writing the stories. I knew it wasn’t writers’ block. I could not admit to myself the reason, so I ended up procrastinating for more than a month.Eventually, I confessed to myself that I was too scared to write the stories, especially those of my personal experience. You see, I usually write very late in the evening (from midnight to 2am).This was the best time to write since everyone would be sound asleep and the house becomes really quiet.However, I began to notice all the strange and unexplained noises in the house. Consequently, I’d decide to sleep immediately instead of writing. One day, after a long chat with Deen, I put my foot down and started writing during my lunch breaks. You can say it was part of my new diet plan! And hence the book has been written!The aim of this book is to share and document the supernatural encounters that people in Borneo have had. I hope this book will help expand our understanding and encourage more sharing of such encounters.This book is not meant to encourage ghost-hunting, which I believe can cause unwanted happenings.Remember, be aware but don’t bother ‘them’ and hopefully, they won’t bother us. That’s more or less the big lesson in life, with everything else too.I must WARN you that these are not...
Chased
As a young child growing up in the 1980s, I spent my time living in Tutong as my father was posted there. He was the Land Officer for the Ministry of Development. My father had a few Army relatives who were based in the nearby army base camp. It was common for my family to attend dinner functions in the Tutong Army base, also known as Tutong Camp. His relative, who was actually my uncle, would host dinner functions till late in his official residence there. Our other army relatives would also be there.I would usually play with my cousins, but since they had to sleep early and my parents always stayed till late, they would usually leave me all alone. The only thing left to do would be to hide in a corner and read a book until my parents decided it was time to go home.One late night, I hid behind the sofa in the living room. My dad, my uncle, my grand-uncle and their other relatives would talk about their lives. The truth is that I had always been a nosey-parker. I would take pride in eavesdropping on their conversations.Somehow I think this is a hereditary trait, as my children have done the same. They love to eavesdrop on my conversations with my wife, or our conversations with friends.Anyway, that night, one of their stories turned out to be unforgettable.My granduncle, who was a general, was telling everyone to be careful when driving late at night. They must recite a prayer verse before driving.He had an incident recently.A week before, he was driving from a very late night army dinner function in Belait.He had to drive through the ‘white sands’ of Tutong. During that time, there were few orange-sodium streetlights lighting the road.This area of white silica sand – which looks like snow – was always rife with ghost sightings.That fateful night, he had forgotten to say a prayer verse before driving through there.The moment he had crossed the particular bridge on that dark road, he noticed there was an oddity in the rear-view mirror.To his horror, from his rear-view mirror, he could see a giant black figure that was running after his car.He looked back and saw that the demon was as tall as one of the electricity pylon towers on the side of the road.It was catching up to him and his car.Without hesitation, he...
The Lady in White
Recently, I had read a Facebook article about some ghost-hunters who were looking for this particular ghost at the (Jalan) ‘Kebangsaan’ road. Basically, they had gone to a large government water storage facility to look for this ghost in the middle of the night and had a ‘mishap’.At first, I didn’t believe it. After all, there are too many fake news on Facebook. Besides, why should a ghost back in the 1970s suddenly reappear now? I thought little about it until I had visited my cousin Paddy in the middle of the night.One late afternoon in the 70s, a European expatriate was walking his dog near the water storage facility or tank on Kebangsaan road.His dog kept on barking at this one spot and refused to move. The owner investigated and found, to his horror, the decaying corpse of a woman. They later identified her as a local lady named Suraya.Before they found the body, there had been many sightings of a mysterious woman in the middle of the night.An uncle had mentioned that he was driving through that road at night when he saw an elegantly dressed lady, carrying her baby in her arms as she walked up the hill. He asked if she wanted a ride in his car and she nodded yes.He thought it was strange that she didn’t respond much to his conversation starters. When they were driving out of Kebangsaan road, the lady and her baby disappeared into thin air.Others had mentioned of incidences where the residents at Kebangsaan road heard someone knocking on their door in the middle of the night.However, when they opened the door, there would be nobody there, but they could hear a baby crying. A few had seen the ghost lady standing there before them, her face covered in a black cloth, asking for help to get her home.However, after Suraya’s corpse was found, the sightings became more intense. My aunt told me that Suraya was a young lady who had an affair with a married man. When she found out she was pregnant, her family told her to confront the man and take responsibility. In a fit of rage, the man’s wife had allegedly killed her and dumped her body there.My aunt told me that this was the correct version of events, but since the story had occurred a long time ago, the details are now fuzzy. There are...
Things that go bump in the night
They say you shouldn’t chase after strange things at night, especially ones that go bump in the night. No matter how brave or courageous you may think you are, bad things can happen… very bad things can happen.It was a long night at the Capital city’s hospital. I was working in the A&E department (the emergency department). I usually love working at night; as it was at this time, my mind was most active and the best medical cases happen at night. I suppose I was meant to be an owl.They say more deaths and terrible things happen at night. Most doctors and nurses would say this is because most patients procrastinate and do their best not to seek treatment until they could bear no more, till they could not sleep anymore. The keyword here is threshold. Of course, if you are spiritually inclined, you would say this is because in the cover of the dark lonely night, we humans are vulnerable to the spirits that lurk unchecked.I would usually be lively at night, and be quite alive with my usual team. Senior A&E Nurse Amir (not his actual name) always seemed to have the same shift as me. He wasn’t really that senior, in fact, he was quite a few years younger than me. But he was one of those competent fast-learner nurses who adapts to emergency and dire situations. During my time there, I felt he was my ‘wingman’ in the ‘medical adventures’ we had.There was one thing I didn’t like about Senior Nurse Amir. For someone who was well-versed in the management of medical emergencies, he was quite superstitious. When patients or their relatives told us they had black magic spells cast upon them, he would readily accept their explanations. I didn’t understand this, how could someone who worked in the world of science swallow the hocus pocus and mystical world?I would usually challenge his beliefs, which was quite entertaining for the both of us. Whilst he explained symptoms and disease processes with both science and the mystical beliefs, I would scoff him off and churn out my favourite diagnosis such as hallucinations due to drug or alcohol abuse.During one late night shift, I felt uneasy for some strange reason. I could not explain why. I had a good sleep and no one in my life had given me any reason to be the usual drama queen...
The Stream
They say that secluded quiet places are owned by the different spirits, and Man continues to trespass its property. The spirits love to dwell at hills, rivers and streams. One of my nurses had shared his encounter with the supernatural.On one quiet afternoon, Nurse Jack and I talked about our experiences with All-Terrain Vehicles (ATV) also known as quad bikes. ATVs are quite popular in Tutong and are available to rent out at the beach.I told Jack about the one time, I rented out an ATV for 2 hours and thought it would be an awesome idea to drive as far as I could. I convinced my reluctant daughter to use a different ATV, but she does not like to drive far or fast. Nevertheless, she would follow my bike but drove at her constant ‘safe’ speed.I drove the ATV for nearly an hour. I was curious to know if I could drive on the beach and if I could reach the other district, which was quite ambitious. I looked back and I could see my daughter was so far away from me. There were other riders there with her and I thought they seemed decent, so I left my concerns of her and drove on.The long beach drive was fun because there were patches of jungle that I could drive through at break-neck speed followed by small brooks or streams.I felt like a young boy again going over small sand dunes and splashing through shallow streams. Occasionally, I would do these fast large turns in the sand. Eventually, I reached a small forest with a dirt path. As I drove on, there was a wide stream. It wasn’t a river, and there were even larger trees on the other side of the stream. I could see the water was probably shallow.Whilst I was deciding on if I should cross the stream, the hairs on my neck and my arms straightened up, as a deep chill ran down my spine.I sensed danger, the Presence.Since I was alone, I took no chances. I turned round and drove back. I didn’t even dare to look back.When I told Jack about this story, he knew immediately where it was, and told me what happened to his brother and him two years ago.Jack and his brother owned their own quadbikes or ATVs. They would load them up on their pickup truck and drive to...
Sukang Health Clinic
Almost 10 years ago, I had been instructed to attend an orientation programme with the Ministry of Health. It was strange, because I had already been working there for a few years.Somehow the fine people in the administration department had sent a few of us doctors and ‘allied health professionals’ to undertake an ‘in-house orientation programme’.Essentially, it was a team-building programme and, of course, an excuse for a paid holiday adventure.One of the activities involved the entire group of 40 or so staff members to go on a trip to inner rural Brunei. We are talking about the real tropical rainforest, not your backyard jungle (belukar).There is a government health clinic at a village called Sukang. It was the best place to run a team-building exercise, where there was no mobile phone reception, let alone Wi-Fi or internet or Friendster (yes, I said Friendster.com). In short, there were no distractions. At least that was what we thought.Driving there was not easy. We had to go in a large convoy of four-wheel drive off-road jeeps. The road heading there changed from the standard asphalt to loose pebbles and then to mud and clay dirt road. It took us a bumpy 4 hour drive, with the occasional drifting in the mud.This was a place where there were more creatures than humans. We had heard stories of previous expeditions having seen or being chased by Pontianaks, but most of us brushed it off as hysterical nonsense.Arriving at Sukang village, its mystical beauty mesmerised us. It was a village with buildings and wooden houses on stilts and water.The trees and the shrubs grew defiant in the flooded plain of the village.I could see fishes swimming in the clear shallow water, hiding between piles of fallen branches and trees, and then occasionally swimming to the wide tea-brown river that surrounded the village.To get to the clinic, we had to hop onto a small motorboat which brought us to the footsteps of the Sukang health clinic.We didn’t just bring ourselves there; we brought a full PA sound system and a karaoke set. Yes, that’s right: a karaoke set. There was a big diesel generator at the back of the clinic, which hummed loudly as it breathed electric life into the clinic.Our team leader Mr. M was quite smart. He told us good progress in the team building would be rewarded with a karaoke session tonight. Of...
Cemetery Party
I was watching the news and saw that one of the elderly had complained about people drinking at the cemetery and had left all kinds of beer cans and bottles. It reminded me of a sad incident one of my friends; Jim, had told me.In a country where there are no pubs, those who choose to drink usually drink beer that have been smuggled across the border and into Brunei. Several years ago, Jim used to drink and party with his friends. Jim and his best friend Rick would drink at home or at their friends’ house and then unfortunately drive back. Yes, don’t drink and drive but they did.The rule seemed to be that if you are going to break the law, you might as well break a few more rules and laws. His usual posse was his four best friends, two of whom were always with their girlfriends and of course, him.One night, whilst partying at home, their neighbour got upset with their rowdy behaviour and threatened to call the police or the vice authorities. Jim sulked and decided not to confront the neighbour. Instead they drove off in their large van.They wondered where they could have drinks and ‘chill’. Of course, when his friends said ‘chill’, this is like the ‘Netflix and chill’ meme. They really wanted to spend more intimate moments with their girlfriends in a PDA way. Jim wondered if they were simply trying to show off.At first they wanted to go to the beach. The beach was a great place to drink and smoke, nothing beats the cool night sea breeze. However, there was a few police arrests at the beach in recent weeks, hence it was not such a good idea.Jim’s best friend Rick suggested the cemetery. Everyone laughed at the idea. Rick explained that the best place to go would be the cemetery because the police and the vice authorities would not be keen to go there at this time of the night. Rick joked it was better to go to a Chinese cemetery, just in case, the authorities had figured things out.They drove to a small Chinese cemetery at a hill away from the capital. It was a dark and quiet place. As they drove in, they noticed there was something surreal about this Chinese cemetery complete with its large ‘chair-like’ gravestones glistening in the moonlight.At one end of the cemetery, there...
Siti & The Tree
One of my cousins; Siti, decided to share with me her own encounter with the supernatural.Back in the 80s, children spent most of their time playing outside of their houses. Each household did not have more than one television set and it had limited channels and programs.There was no Wi-Fi or internet and we did not have computers or video games to play with. As children, we would run across the jungle, climb trees and play hide and seek etc. All without adult supervision. Unimaginable now these days.Our family clan lived in Kampong Manggis Satu or Manggis Satu Village. This was great because all the cousins could play together as one large gang.All the houses there had only been recently built whilst the jungle encircled the five family houses. This began to change when the government decided to build a highway through the village. We could not imagine our village to be divided into two, but that was the price of progress.We played across bulldozed dirt roads, and swam in the pools of water that formed, of course, not understanding the dangers it posed. Ignorance was so blissful.However, the intended highway path was obstructed by three giant trees.Eavesdropping on our parents, we overheard that the construction crew had a problem trying to chop down the giant trees. These were no ordinary trees.The trees were probably more than a hundred years old and were as tall as a medium sized apartment flat.Chainsaws stopped working when trying to cut them, even the bulldozer would die down when getting near the trees.One of the older uncles mentioned that powerful spirits reside within the trees.Eventually, a shaman or a ‘bomoh’ helped them cut one of the trees. It took a good two days’ work to cut it down.One of the giant trees fell down after much hard work, and hence there were two trees left to be fell.However, that night, the entire construction crew mysteriously fell acutely ill. Even the bomoh himself was hospitalised due to some unknown illness.A new crew was assigned to cut down the second giant tree. When their own gear stopped working and then they heard what had happened to the previous crew, they refused to cut down the tree.Hence a new plan had to be made to build this section of the highway around the trees.Upon hearing this story, my cousins Siti, Suzy and Shamsul, who were barely in...
Missing In The Jungle
Over the course of time, several retired soldiers and police rangers (think jungle police) had shared their experiences in the jungles.The PoolOne police ranger named Abu told me that during a patrol break deep in the tropical rainforest, he decided to walk away from his group to inspect a gentle sloping in the ground. He noticed a row of trees that were growing very close together. He was curious and decided to slide between the trees and find out what was on the other side. There, Abu found a small peaceful pool. He noticed how the pool seemed to glitter in the filtered sunshine. In the tranquillity, he decided to have a cigarette and reminisce about his fishing boat.After finishing his cigarette, Abu left the pool and slid through the same row of trees, so as to regroup with his friends. He was shocked to see how dark the jungle was. He became worried as he thought maybe something was in his eyes. He rubbed his eyes but it was still dark. He clambered up the short slope and once he got to the top, he saw several distinct orange and yellow light beams, moving from one side of the jungle to the other.He could hear voices and then recognised they were his friends. They were shouting out his name. He shouted out to them, and they ran towards him. They were very worried. They asked what had happened to him, and where had he gone to.They told him they had been looking for him for a few hours now. It was already night. Abu said he had only gone for a quick cigarette break. He couldn’t have been gone for more than 15 minutes. Abu started talking about the pool that he had been to, when suddenly one of the older police rangers told him to speak no more and instructed the group to start moving.It was the signal that they had to leave the area and camp somewhere else for the night. They were not sure if they would be safe if they remained at the same place that night. The group didn’t talk about the event until they came back from the jungles. The older police ranger explained to Abu that he must have somehow entered the other dimension, the world of the Bunian or jungle spirits.The PatrolEvery time a soldier goes missing in the jungle, a...
The Old Woman
This story was contributed by Adrina Hj Mohd Agus Din, a passionate English teacher from Rimba 2 Secondary School.I don’t remember when I first noticed her. That old woman in the house in front of mine, either sitting or standing on the verandah watching me. I do remember that I saw her for months and months, every afternoon, facing me, watching me. I was only five years old and this old strange woman, standing on the verandah watching me, became quite normal.I have very fond memories of the house I grew up in. My dad was a policeman, so we lived in one of the identical bungalows sprawled over the large compounds in Gadong. Our cul-de-sac was a particularly cheery one, the grounds were green and filled with trees. It was also safe for children to play outside and the vast green fields with its mossy trees behind our houses provided a setting for the most fun of adventures.I was an active five-year-old, and this was a time when Brunei only had one channel on TV. Each bungalow had a wide verandah and I spent a lot of time on it. My father was an animal lover and we had a multitude of animals surrounding the house. There was always a reason to play outside.My afternoons were a lonely affair, my sister was at religious school and my parents were often working. We had a Filipino maid that would be pottering around the house and I was pretty much left on my own. I read, rode my bike, played with our cat and napped in the sun. It was an idyllic life and it was enough.As we were on a cul-de-sac, every house faced each other so you knew the goings-on of the neighborhood. Our verandah was cool and comfortable, we had those long rattan chairs which were so popular in the eighties and dad placed mosquito netting around it making it almost cave-like. He was also a very good gardener. Colourful flowers and bushes lined our house.And there was that old woman. She was your typical old Malay woman, dressed in a cotton ‘baju opah’ and ‘kain batik’ and a white cotton cap on the head covering her hair.I always saw her in the verandah of the house in front of ours. It’s funny what my five-year-old mind accepted as normal. It did strike me that the verandah she...
The Hotel in Kota Kinabalu
It was 2002. My wife and 5 other girls decided to go on a short holiday to Kota Kinabalu or KK in Sabah.They drove their car from Brunei all the way to KK. However, the journey took much longer than anticipated, as their drive was hampered by heavy rain and slow traffic.Weekend holidays can be very busy as many Bruneians will drive out to either KK or Miri. They had planned to arrive in KK by early afternoon but ended up in KK quite late in the evening. Thunderstorms prevailed but they were all grateful for getting to their hotel without incident.The hotel they were staying at looked like a white castle. Of course, I can’t name the hotel for legal reasons. The six girls had gotten two rooms which were next to each other. Being tired, they decided to retire early.There was something odd about the hotel, but they couldn’t figure out what it was. It just seemed too quiet, but then it was pretty late at night.The next day after exploring KK and doing the necessary window shopping at the many malls, the group decided that they should have a swim at the hotel swimming pool.The pool was quite clean and they had the pool to themselves. There was no one else there. Not even the swimming pool attendants. The hotel rooms towered eerily and surrounded the pool. By right, everyone in their rooms could see the swimming pool from their room balcony.My wife told me that when she looked up at the hotel rooms, there were all dark and quiet. Not a single soul could be seen. She wondered if they were the only occupants in this large hotel. And yet she felt someone was watching them from one of the rooms on the higher floors. They swam and lounged by the pool till late night.On their way back to their rooms, they noticed how even more quiet the hotel was. There was an eerie feeling that they could not explain.My wife and her two friends were already lying in bed and getting ready to sleep when there was a loud knocking on their door. They wondered who it could be as it was already half past midnight. Her roommates looked at her, which meant that since she was nearest to the door, she should be the one to check and open the door.My wife thought maybe...
People Living Downstairs
I don’t know what is wrong with me. Whenever I sense an ‘abnormal’ Presence nearby, my first instinct is to ‘challenge’ it. I like to think that it has to do with my Kedayan roots (an indigenous tribe of Borneo who love to enter jungles whilst challenging the spirits, at least that is what I have been told.)The idea of these challenges is to show that you are not afraid of them. After all, spirits seem to appear amongst people who are low in spiritual power or ‘lemah semangat’.Five years ago, my family home was threatened by a landslide and whilst waiting for the renovation works, we had been given permission to stay at the government Rest House at Sungai Basong village in Tutong.It was a government stilted house built in the 80s. Downstairs, there was a small 4 room ‘bungalow’. By right, this was to house the maid and other visiting guests. However, this house had been turned into a rest house and the downstairs shed-like building had become a disused furniture storeroom.It was at this time that my 4-year-old son had been telling his grandparents that he was playing with another boy in the house, who seemed to be able to climb the walls! I thought this was just his wild imagination. After all, everyone gets to have their own ‘Mr. Snuffleupagus’ (if you don’t know who that is, please google Sesame Street). One day, my son became frightened and started crying. He told me that the other ‘kid’ showed a scary face and didn’t want to play with him anymore.I didn’t know what to make of it. I did brush it off to the annoyance of my in-laws. My in-laws started their Holy Verses recital to ward off the unwanted guest.One night, I came back from a long shift duty. I had a very bad day. To make things worse, I was coming back to an empty house as everyone had decided to stay at my brother-in-law’s in preparation for a family function the next day.I had gotten out of the car, when I noticed I was having goosebumps all over myself. Instinctually, I looked onto my left side and saw it.There was a dark shadowy figure standing in the middle of the building downstairs. I stared at it, wondering if this was some kind of optical illusion. It was clear there was a figure in black....
The Sound
Contributed by Daisy AbdullahDaisy Abdullah is a dedicated English language teacher at a government college in Bandar Seri Begawan, Brunei. She refused to share with me this story until she was safe and sound at home.8 years ago, an unforgettable incident had occurred to me.My colleague and I had to stay back at the school in Bandar. Being a teacher, we sometimes stayed back till 8pm; or even worse 9pm, to complete our paperwork.One late afternoon, we were in the conference room, typing away and preparing notes for the next day’s lesson, when my colleague, Farah (not her actual name) asked me an odd question. She asked me if I had seen anyone at the door.You see in our conference room, we had a long table that was facing the door. The reddish orange sunlight meant that this was nearly sunset. We had been so engrossed with our work, we had not noticed the time.I looked at Farah and told her I had not seen anyone. Farah insisted that there was someone at the door but every time she looked up, she said the person hid.She described to me that the person was a man. She couldn’t see his face properly, but she was very certain she saw what she had seen. Farah then turned up the volume of her speaker, maybe to distract herself.To me it must have been her imagination as I thought it had happened to me before. I brushed it off as fatigue. The moment I did this, the door closed on its own. We both looked at each other. Farah smiled uncomfortably. I knew what she was trying to say. Somehow, that moment in itself, we both found it funny and laughed it off. We both knew what it meant.We continued with our work, taking breaks to chat and listening to pop songs of the 2000s (I know).At one point, Farah, without warning, had turned down the volume. Her action startled me. I stopped doing my work and asked her what was happening.“Daisy, can you hear the sound outside?” she asked me. We stayed quiet for a few seconds.‘No. What sound are you talking about? I asked her. I was feeling goosebumps all over.“I am not sure myself,” Farah brushed off whatever she heard. She turned up the volume higher this time.After a while, she turned down the volume again. “Did you hear that?” she...
The Susuk
Ten years ago, I was working in the Intensive Care Unit in the capital city’s hospital. Many very ill patients were admitted to the ICU ward. We had a high ‘turnover’. It meant that we had many patients who either went to ICU and died there or they had recovered enough to be transferred to one of the less intensive wards.As a result, every day, I saw a lot of x-rays. The standard being the chest x-ray. It was there that I noticed an oddity on some of the x-ray films.The first x-ray film I noticed had two small distinct white lines about 1.5 centimetres long.I had seen similar ‘artefacts’ but had always thought it was some random calcium deposits or scar tissue or maybe a garment or hospital monitoring equipment that was still left on the patient.It was the positions of these white lines that made it looked strange and intentional. There were located outside the lungs and each at a specific point in the soft tissue. To be precise, one on each breast soft tissue.I asked one of the specialist doctors (my boss), “I don’t think this is relevant but what is it?”He glanced to where the morbidly unwell patient was. The patient was in a medically induced coma whilst on a life support machine. “You don’t want to know.”I thought it was a bit cryptic but the ICU was a very busy ward.I began to see other similar articles. A white line in soft tissue no more than 1.5 cm, one for each side of the body. Most of them were in female patients. I had seen them on a pelvis x-ray, where it seemed to be near the genital area. I had also seen them on the face, meaning it showed up on a skull x-ray and was seemingly on the cheeks, whilst another had them in her chin.One day, after requesting an x-ray in the ICU ward, the radiographer lady, who was nearly a retiree herself, brought me to the side. She had the x-ray film in her hand. She told me the unwell female patient had ‘susuk’ on her chest and that I should remove the susuk before the patient died. Otherwise, she would die with an unforgiveable sin. She walked off assuming I knew what she meant. I came up to my boss and shared with him my strange conversation with the radiographer. He...
The Visitors in ICU
No matter what people say, hospitals are not haunted places. I think it happens everywhere, and one thing for sure is that there must be a reason why only certain people can see these apparitions. We talk about ‘lemah semangat’ or the weakened soul. I believe if someone was depressed, under pressure or physically unwell, they would also have ‘lemah semangat’ or reduced ‘tenaga batin’. But hey what do I know? I’m just a doctor.Anyway, as a medical doctor, I notice patterns. When I was working in the ICU ward, I remembered there was a male patient who had just been taken off life support and had already weaned him off his sedatives for a few hours, when he suddenly started using all his legs and his arms to push something away. Of course, there was nothing there but thin air.I asked him why he was doing that. He told me he was keeping the three old women away from him. He needed my help, they were flying towards him and around the room, cackling at him. I thought what an interesting hallucination and wondered if it was because the sedative drugs were being weaned off. He frantically told me that the three women were dressed in black and were flying around the ward. Witches, I thought.One of my colleagues told him not to worry as the three women were ‘long term residents’ and he reassured the patient that they won’t do any harm to him. He also told him they won’t bother him soon enough.For some reason, that explanation helped calmed the patient, though from time to time, I still noticed him moving his hands as though he was swatting invisible flies.A week later, he was in a different medical ward i.e. the normal ward and I decided to ask how he was.He said he was feeling much better but didn’t want to go back to ICU again, as the three ‘witches’ were still there. Sometimes, they stood outside the door, just pointing at him. Jokingly, I said I would prefer if he didn’t come back too.Anyway, in one of the ICU isolation rooms, I had also noticed a pattern. A few of the dying patients would shriek out to keep the ‘flying women’ away from them.I noticed their description of the apparitions were the same. Three elderly women dressed in black, taunting and cackling from time to time...
Papasan
A former ranger shared me this story. Thirty years ago, his squad and him were tasked to find a missing soldier, who had mysteriously disappeared into the Labi rainforest.When they landed at the forward base camp, there was already a company of soldiers established there looking for this missing soldier. My ranger friend, Captain Sarin and his friends had been called a bit late into the mission. The soldier had already been missing for a week by then.After gathering as much intel on the missing soldier and planning their patrol route for the next day, they decided to sleep early and planned to head out before sunrise.At around midnight, their sleep was interrupted by loud screaming and the sound of boots and men heading towards the source of the screaming.Captain Sarin decided to find out what was happening. The screaming was coming from one of the sleeping quarters, a large makeshift tent. The soldiers who were around the tent were agitated, and he could tell that they weren’t sure if they should enter the tent or not.Sarin pushed the soldiers aside and got inside the tent.He could see some of the soldiers were pulling down a green duvet. It took a moment to figure out what the soldiers were doing. He could not believe his eyes. The soldiers were pulling down the green duvet covering another soldier who was sleeping and screaming at the same time and he was levitating in mid-air.They were stopping him from flying away.He kept screaming and no matter what they tried, he could not wake up. There were three other soldiers fast asleep next to him, and they also could not be woken up.Their faces showed signs of distress, the three of them must have been having a nightmare.One of the soldiers shouted to jump on the screaming soldier. They jumped and clambered on, putting their weight on him and eventually, his body reached the floor.There was a civilian whom Sarin assumed was a spiritualist of some kind, who got some blessed water and poured it on the hysterical sleeping soldier.When the water was poured onto his face, the soldier stopped screaming and all four soldiers woke up. After everyone had calmed down, the four soldiers were asked what had happened.The screaming soldier, Private Minul, and the other 3 soldiers seemed to have had the same dream.Private Minul’s dream was slightly different from the others. He...
Bugang: Rumble in the Jungle
There are many indigenous tribes in Borneo. One of which is the Dusun tribe. Those who have not converted to one of two monotheistic religions, still strongly hold to their shamanistic and paganistic beliefs.Sam was one of the male nurses who worked in my clinic. He is a Dusun. He doesn’t like to talk about his supernatural experience but every day, I would do my best to pry out these stories from him.He is quite reluctant to share, as he is constantly worried about ‘cabul’ i.e. when the supernatural spirits that you mention turn up to you as they mistakenly believe you are summoning them.Sam shared with me an incident he had when his family had a jungle outing. He was much younger then. He was, to be precise, a 12-year-old boy, when his father’s family and his uncle’s family decided to go deep into the jungle of Tutong to gather fruits called the ‘Sibut’ fruit.This fruit comes from the Sibut tree, which is a very tall jungle tree. It cannot be cultivated and needs the environment of a true virgin tropical rainforest.Since it has become rarer to find now these days, one has to go deep into the jungle to find it.The Sibut is considered a delicacy, similar to the more famous Kembayau (Canarium odonotphyllium or ‘black Borneo olive’).There is a ritual that is practised by the Dusun upon entering the jungle as well as exiting the jungle.However, in modern times, the jungle rituals to appease the jungle spirits and to seek permission are forgotten or not carried out intentionally.Global modernisation meant that many indigenous tribes in Borneo have started to let go of their past practices. As more trees have been fell due to illegal logging and poaching activities, the Sibut trees have become harder to reach. It took them longer than planned to reach the Sibut trees.They collected the Sibut fruits and placed them in their weaved baskets or ‘Takiding’, which can be slung like a backpack.Since it was getting late, they didn’t get to completely fill up their baskets.Sam’s father who was the elder of the two brothers and hence leader of the gathering party, decided to head back home.Sam remembered how uneasy his father looked that day. He was rushing them to hurry up and hike faster through the jungle path.Sam told me that his father was a ‘spiritualist’, and people would come to him...
House on the Hill
I was in my teenage years when I first moved to Jalan Kebangsaan Lama. My parents had rented a large house there, which happened to be on the same road as my mother’s cousins, which would of course, made them my second cousins. One of the things that I love about this place was that I could ride my bicycle to my cousins’ houses on top of the hill and then pedal downhill with speed.My late mom (may her soul rest in peace) would always seem worried when my brothers and I were out, playing late till dusk. We were always warned not to play after sunset. Of course, when we were having fun, we always lost track of time.One day, we took our sweet time and played till it was dark. Somehow our play (and fights) got us near our cousin’s house. One of my older cousins ran towards us and hurried for us to get inside their house.He wanted us to leave our bicycles there and then he would drive us back to our own house, which was only about 800 metres away! He didn’t want us to cycle home. I didn’t understand why he would want to do that. After insisting on an explanation, he revealed to us that my mom had instructed him to do so. I badgered him for the reason why, as it still didn’t make any sense.He eventually gave in and told me that they had just seen an Orang Tinggi demon running up the hill as the sun had set that day. I didn’t believe him. If there was any demon passing through, we would have definitely seen it. I thought he was telling tall tales. I insisted he describe this Orang Tinggi demon to me. He told us that the Orang Tinggi was taller than the houses and looked like a giant black shadow. Or it was dressed in a completely dark fabric. He was not sure about this part, but one thing for sure was that he could not see its face. Apparently, if you see its face it would mean death.He told me that the sighting didn’t just happen that sunset time. He had an event that morning when he woke up and opened the windows at dawn. He saw the Orang Tinggi demon was right in front of his window. It had huge legs as big as tree...
A Tale From Bukit Panggal
Original story contributed by Feefy Abdullah, who is currently undertaking her MBA in KL, Malaysia.One weekend, 13 years ago, my friends and I, who were students at the local universities (UBD & ITB) decided to chill out at one of my friend’s house. We were a large group, as we brought friends of friends who became everybody’s friends. They were 15 of us in total, boys and girls. It was a sort of ‘multitask and chill’. We would hang out and complete our university homework, bringing our assignments, cramming for exams, and cook etc. Hence when any one of us wanted to take a break, we had friends to chill out with.My friend; Joanna, has a house in Bukit Panggal village, Tutong. Contrary to popular myth, Bukit Panggal village was named because the hill, which was the main ‘feature’ of the village, was flat at the top, as though it had been cut off or ‘panggal’. Of course, the popular story was that this was where World War 2 Japanese soldiers would decapitate people. I am sure this is not true.Joanna’s house was on top of the hill. Even though her house had good road frontage and the fact the road was busy, her house had always seemed to be dark.The streetlights, somehow did not reflect enough light towards her house. They had a front-yard light to counter, but it barely made a difference.At night, it actually made the whole house look even creepier. Joanna was a loveable and bubbly friend so we all did our best to ignore this and not mention anything (for fear of ‘cabul’).Our hangouts would usually last till late night. That particular night, around 8pm, one of the guys; Chung (not his real name), wanted to have a cigarette break.He didn’t want to go out alone and was trying his best to get anyone to join him. He didn’t want to admit that he was scared.However, everyone was busy. We all had fooled around too much earlier, and the guilt of not having done any work got everyone in a more serious mood.So, Chung went out to the front-yard all by himself.He came back later after 15 minutes, looking a bit chirpy.He was jesting that the rest of us were taking ‘school work’ too seriously.They should all be cool just like Mamat and him.Mamat is of course, one of our other friends, and we were...
The English Lady
Original story shared by Hannah Sim, an English teacher who is passionate about the Brunei people, especially her students and loves the tranquil life in BruneiOther than being a family doctor, I used to moonlight and provide IT services. I loved doing the odd jobs as it allowed me to meet all kinds of people with their diverse backgrounds living in Brunei and get wonderful insights into their lives. Yes, I know curiosity killed the cat.One client I had was an English lady teacher who was working and living in Temburong. This district is a bit more isolated and definitely quieter than the other places. Have I already mentioned that Brunei itself is a relatively quiet country?I found it fascinating that Rachel (not her real name) would work in Brunei, let alone in Temburong. I wanted to know her insights about living in that district. She was more than happy to share with me the joys and challenges she had about teaching in a remote town in Temburong. She told me she was very fascinated with the jungle. When I asked her what was so interesting about the jungle, Rachel had difficulty explaining to me. She said the jungle has a life of its own.Rachel lived in a small bungalow, all by herself in the house, next to the tropical jungle. There was no telephone and her mobile phone had zero reception. She had no nearby neighbours. It was the only house there. She was a bit carefree and had no concerns about living alone. She thought it was a chance to reflect upon her life.At first, she didn’t notice anything strange. She had never lived next to the tropical jungle. Then she started noticing the subtle changes. She saw the tall jungle trees would sway pronouncedly even on a breezeless day. At times, she thought she saw shirtless people standing amongst the trees. She chose not to react to it, as she calmly sipped her tea. The number of ‘people’ she saw standing by the trees would vary, they were seemingly ‘men’, ‘women’ and ‘children’ too. They never crossed the treeline and walked towards the house so she did not feel threatened.One late afternoon, whilst in deep sleep, Rachel was slapped on the face, so hard that she fell off the bed. She quickly picked up a wooden bat – that she kept in case of emergencies – and...
Not One of Us
During the search of the missing soldier in Labi back in the late 1980s, both soldiers and spiritual masters poured into the forward base camp in the jungle of Labi.The soldiers had to attend “roll calls” or to us civilians, we’d call it attendance checks. This was routinely being carried out throughout the day and even at night, to ensure there were no missing soldiers.One night after a disturbance in the camp, the commander of the base camp decided to do a roll call for the company.All the soldiers were in their units and were in formation.However, they could see there was a soldier in his green PT or Physical Training uniform just outside the base camp.He was standing grinning at the rest of the soldiers in the base camp.The commander, who I have been told was my own uncle at that time, was furious.He shouted at the ‘Private’ who was out of uniform and not adhering to the roll call.The commander continued shouting and threatening that soldier to fall in line with the rest of the soldiers. The commander obviously knew there was something wrong with the soldier outside.He also knew that if it was an evil Bunian spirit, it would have a hard time entering the base camp as the civilian shamans or spiritualist had done a protection circle or a ‘guris’ around the base camp.Interestingly enough, another soldier who had been there during the incident told me, he noticed this soldier had no eyebrows and he knew because of that he was a Bunian spirit.Another told me that his feet didn’t seem to touch the jungle floor and that was the dead giveaway.Eventually, the ‘soldier’ in the green PT uniform started to jog slowly around the base camp. My uncle, the commander, started shouting even louder and with more obscenities at this imposter soldier.The green soldier ran faster and faster around the base camp, running through the trees as though the trees were not there in the first place.He ran so fast that they could barely see the figure, he was like a green blur.As one soldier quoted to me, he was like the green Flash.Eventually, the commander ignored the Bunian and the Bunian green runner disappeared.His soldiers and him did not sleep that night and remained in formation until dawn.They had to be prepared for an attack in case, the Guris protection failed.
The Waterfall
There are many waterfalls and small lakes in Brunei. We call these ‘Wasai’. Some can be found on Tripadvisor.com or google and are considered as tourist attractions but there are a number that are only known to ‘privileged’ locals in the know-how.There’s nothing more amazing than to trek into hot humid jungle to find a Wasai. The water is cold (by tropical standards of course) and it’s always fun to jump off a waterfall (ledge) and plunge into the pool below. The water can be quite deep.There’s a belief that where there is a Wasai, one must take precaution in not saying the wrong things or ‘cabul’. If you see anything abnormal, whether it’d be a strange creature, snake or spider or otherwise, or a person who is not within your group, it is best to ignore it and not cause ‘cabul’.I won’t dwell on the other beliefs and practices of entering a Wasai. However, I can share you a story I heard, whilst talking to a senior ICU doctor colleague.We were discussing the case of two teenage boys, who were brothers. If I recall correctly, they may have been non-identical twins.It was the start of the school holidays. One brother decided to join his classmates to Labi area to trek into the jungle and swim at a Wasai, whilst the other brother had a football tournament.The brother who had gone to the Wasai, which was a less known and less frequented waterfall, had been swimming brashly to impress a girl in his group.The rest of the group decided to ignore him when suddenly, he was shouting for help.At first, they thought he was pulling a prank but they could see there was genuine fear in his eyes. He was shouting that someone had grabbed him by the feet and was pulling him down.The strong swimmers in the group jumped into the water as he disappeared beneath the water. By the time, they were able to find and rescue him, he had already drowned.Meanwhile, around the same time, the other brother, who was playing a football game had suddenly collapsed after feeling weakness in his legs.For some unknown reason, what was thought to be a heat stroke turned out to be a cardiac arrest. This brother had also died mysteriously.Of course, in this country, post mortem examinations are rarely performed (except in criminal cases).My colleague thought it was a condition...
The Forbidden
Original story narrated to me by a former patient named Suhardi, a jungle enthusiast.A common ‘pantang’ or ritual taboo when being inside the jungle is not to make too much noise. The other pantang is not to pick up any abnormal objects, no matter how tempted we are. Actually, having the temptation to pick up an item is itself the big red flag.The forbidden items could be anything ranging from strangely shaped pieces of wood, stones and trinkets that don’t belong in the jungle. If you are there to pick up fruits or to hunt, then that’s the only thing you should do. Whatever else is in the jungle should remain in the jungle.Suhardi told me they were always advised not to pick up any strange rocks or items found in the jungle. As well as the usual ‘cabul’ rule.Suhardi was an avid jungle trekker. He had retired early from the army and yet loved exploring the jungle. He felt truly at peace standing amongst the seemingly resilient jungle trees and the tropical vegetation.He was keen on taking photos of tropical birds. One of the other things that he was interested in was recruiting others to join him. He wanted to inspire others to learn more about the jungle and more importantly, learn to respect the jungle.This meant he would bring people who were new to the whole idea of hiking through a tropical rainforest.Most of them were yuppies, or young urban professionals. New graduates with new jobs, and keen to learn new things about their country and their jungle, whilst at the same time, get a chance to make new friends, especially those of the opposite gender.Suhardi was very different from them. He was quiet and reserved. One of the reasons he loved the jungle was that; although it was ‘noisy’, he was away from most people. Hence it was pretty tranquil for Suhardi.Initially, he wanted to bring a few people with him but somehow; at one time, these few people brought their own friends and he had a larger than expected group that went with him. He didn’t feel right about it, but Suhardi was not the kind to reject or offend others. So he kept quiet and tried to make the best out of it.This group was quite rowdy. They would crack lewd jokes in the jungle and then laugh out loud. In many occasions, members of...
The Chicken Farm
My mentor Bob has a nephew whose family lives near Junjungan village, which is near the Limbang-Brunei border.One day he shared with me a sighting one of his nephews, Zul had.Zul lived near Junjungan village. Zul is the second youngest amongst 5 brothers. His family lived in a big house and their land was huge. Most houses are like that. You have to drive to meet your neighbours. A jungle surrounds most of their house.One good thing about having a house with a large backyard (and front yard) is that you could use it for farming.Zul’s father started a small chicken farm, which was at the back of the house. It was located half-way between the jungle and their house, as they didn’t want the smell of the chicken excrement to get into the house, and it couldn’t get too close to the jungle, otherwise, the snakes and the monitor lizards would get too enticed.The chicken farm was about half the size of their house. It had a galvanized zinc roof and chicken-wire netting all around it. The chicken farm also had a raised platform for the hen houses or chicken coop, in case of flood and forced entry by eager reptiles.Zul’s job was to feed the chickens during the day and the evening and to check the integrity of the chicken wire or fence.One late afternoon, dark grey storm clouds over-casted the skies above Zul’s house. The gust of winds played with the metal roof of the chicken farm.Luckily Zul’s father had double-nailed them to the supports. However one roof panel had bent itself and caused the chicken wire netting in one corner to fall. It was a hole large enough for reptiles to enter the chicken coop.Zul had no choice, he was the one responsible for fixing it. He wanted to ask for help from his brothers but they were all busy with their house work.Then the rain came, large droplets raced down on the ground, drumming hard and fast on the roofs and of course the chicken coop.Zul ran across towards the chicken coop. He had a plan: make temporary fix now by nailing the chicken wire netting down. He reckoned he would make further repairs the next day.He was armed with a handheld staple gun and of course, a hammer and nails. It was dark and then there was a flash.A lightning bolt struck a tree...
The Jamboree
I was looking through my first day cover (FDC) collections and saw this one particular FDC that made me remember one real good story to share.Back in the 1980s, I had joined the Cub Scouts. One of the most important expectations when joining the Scouts (or Cub Scouts) was to go on a camping trip. I was lucky to join the Brunei Jamboree of 1985. I had never been to such an event before and I had never seen so many Scouts troops and packs that had gathered together in one place.Our crisp light blue uniforms stood out from the numerous khaki Scouts uniforms. Yes, we were the kids Scouts, whilst the khaki brown uniforms were the ‘real Scouts’. You can say they were the teenagers and young adults.Nevertheless, they never tried to intimidate us, Cub Scouts. The other Scouts welcomed us to the National Jamboree with warm smiles and kind eyes.We had a lot of things to do: river crossing, obstacle crossings and the famous knot competition, to mention a few.The only problem was that the Brunei National Jamboree occurred during the rainy months of December. There was little relief when the torrential rains stopped downpouring.The reason was because everywhere we went, the ground had become so soggy, we had to wade through knee-deep mud.To be precise, it was a real mud-fest. I remembered getting back home and my mom was not happy about the mud all over my blue uniform. To make matters worse, we had to attend a few days for the Jamboree. Such was the sacrifice a mother had to make for her children.The next day, my pack of Cub Scouts were told that we would not be camping during the Jamboree. It was simply too muddy and it had rained pretty badly the night before. You can’t imagine the disappointment of 9 – 10 year old Cub Scouts. You probably could hear their hearts breaking.We did our best to keep our spirits up, and eventually we ‘force-negotiated’ with our teacher (Den mother – if I recall correctly) for us to go camping at the school compound AFTER the Jamboree was over. Yes, we were young kids but, we damn well knew how to negotiate.We carried on with the day’s event till lunch time. I decided to wander off to the souvenirs stall where I met my first cousin Fina (not her real name).Fina was much...
The Vessel
More than 30 years ago, there was a soldier who went missing in the jungles of Labi. I found out about this incident from patients, friends and even my staff told me about it. The story goes that during a military training exercise, this soldier had mysteriously disappeared.On the 14th day, the Search and Rescue (SAR) mission was called off. He was found 23 days later under a house in Belabau village in rural Tutong.There are many supernatural stories surrounding the soldier’s disappearance and the consequent SAR mission. I used ‘witness’ accounts as the basis and inspiration for my last novel “The Last Bastion of Ingei: Imminent.”Here is one story involving the SAR mission, as recalled by a few witnesses and participants in this SAR mission.Yes, it was intentional to place this story towards the end of the book. You may have already read the other stories: Chapters Not One of Us and Papasan. I must warn you that I could not verify the authenticity of this story for sure, but I had interviewed several witnesses who do not know the other witnesses.*** This story may be a bit disturbing.***Sid (not his real name) didn’t like the idea. He didn’t want his frail father to be helicoptered to the Army forward base camp, which was right smack in the middle of the Labi jungle.Sid’s father was special. His father was a respected Dusun tribe elder, who was known in his village and local circles to be able to communicate with the spirits: a spirit medium.Sid did his best to come up with excuses so that his father wouldn’t join the ‘team.’ Luckily, they accepted that his father was too unwell to be in a helicopter.Sid, being in the Army himself, joined the team of ‘spiritualist specialists’. They all got into the Bell 212 helicopter, to be ferried to the forward base camp.Inside the chopper cabin, he recognised most of the faces. Some were renown spirit practitioners – masters and novices alike, whilst others he knew immediately were dodgy practitioners of black magic and skilful con artists.One guy, however, stood out of the group. It was a very tall guy with a receding hairline.This guy was all dressed up in a new red Adidas tracksuit and even had matching red Adidas running shoes. Sid wondered about this guy.He wondered if he was ‘mentally challenged’. Sid was usually a kind person and...
The Golf Game
I had heard this story at least twice from two different people. This story has been edited to protect the identities of the involved.Two prominent businessmen were playing golf at the local golf course. Being a hot tropical country, it made sense to play golf during the late afternoon, when it was much cooler. Golfers can also play golf during the night.Mr. Said and Mr. Rahman were having a friendly golf game. They were both escorted by their trusted employees; respectively, Mr. Riza and Mr. Hardiman who were both chaperones and caddies. It was an honour to serve their employers and it was great for networking too. The two businessmen had a debate or rather an intellectual argument in the middle of the game. When they settled down and agreed to respect each other’s views and to continue the discussion at a future date, the sun was already setting but they vowed to finish their game. The golf course had bright night lights, so they could even play through the night. Yet, both men were keen to finish their game quickly and get back home to their families.Said swung his 7 iron golf club but made a mistake during his follow through swing. His white golf ball flew high up and then swerved to the right, landing in the nearby trees: The Woods.Rahman laughed and patted Said. Without saying anything, he was literally saying “watch the expert”.However, when it was Said’s turn, his golf ball had also landed near the same woods. They could see the ball land towards the edge of the trees and then rolled in.“I guess we are both old fools.” They both laughed followed by the nervous laughs of both subordinates. Rahman protested, “At least I didn’t land directly into those trees.”They decided to look for one of the golf balls, since it could not have rolled in that far.With their torchlights, they scoured the ground, searching in between the shrubs. Hardiman found Rahman’s golf ball. As he picked it up to show Rahman, he could hear Said saying that he could see his golf ball too. Said and Riza were hurrying towards the golf ball.Rahman was surprised, so he followed them. It turned out that there was a nearby clearing. Hardiman felt uneasy as he slowly followed the rest of the group. He could see Said’s golf ball was sitting on a green moss covered flat...
Surung Tarik Ghost
Contributed by Liza IshakLiza Ishak is from the village of Tanjong Maya in Tutong. She shared with me a ghost folklore her mother told her, which may explain the strange sounds in the jungle.A long time ago, there were two villagers who were very close friends. They did everything together. They were like brothers.Village life was very simple. There was no trade in their village. One had to either farm or hunt. These two men loved to hunt together. They went into the jungle to hunt for food.Hunting for them meant that they had to leave their village very early in the morning and head out into the jungle. There, they would set up traps for the bountiful jungle creatures.On good days, they would catch a deer or birds or a mousedeer (imagine a much smaller deer the size of a large cat). More than often, they would come back empty-handed.One day, they realised they had not caught anything for the past week. They waited and waited but none of the creatures would fall for their traps.Thinking about their families and the other villagers who needed to be fed, they became worried and convinced themselves to wait until it was night time. They couldn’t bear the thought of going back home empty-handed again. It was simply humiliating and unbearable. They decided they had to go deeper into the jungle, unexplored to them. It was pretty brave of them since it was already night time.They stopped by a giant tree and thought this was the best place to rest for the night and then continue their hunting tomorrow.Suddenly, a huge python slid down the giant tree. It had already decided that one of the hunters was going to be its prey.The other man saw the snake, quickly unsheathed his machete or parang and slashed the python’s head.The rest of the python fell off the tree with a huge thud.After being thankful for being saved, they decided to eat the snake. It seemed a fitting feast especially since they had ran out of their own provisions.They chopped the snake into large chunks. The man who slained the snake thought it was best that he rested whilst the other agreed to collect firewood.As he waited under the giant tree, watching up above, making sure there was no other snake coming down, he was quite surprised to see another snake. This time the snake...
Summary
Details coming soon.
