Indonesian Horror Story

The Orang Bunian

It was a quiet night in the village of Kampung Halaman, where the only sounds came from the crickets chirping and the distant hooting of an owl. A few villagers were still awake, sitting around a bonfire, sharing stories and sipping hot tea.

Suddenly, the air grew still, and the villagers could feel a strange presence around them. It was said that the orang bunian, a mystical being from Kalimantan folklore, frequented the area in the dead of night, playing tricks on the unwary.

"Did anyone hear that?" asked Budiman, one of the village elders, his voice shaking with fear.

"Uh, hear what?" replied Ali, one of the villagers who always prided himself on being brave.

"That sound, like a baby crying," said Budiman. "It's coming from the forest."

The villagers looked at each other in disbelief, unsure of what to do. They had always heard stories of the orang bunian and the spirits that haunted the village, but they had never encountered one face-to-face.

Without a word, Ali jumped up, determined to prove his bravery. "I'll go check it out," he said, grabbing his flashlight.

As Ali walked towards the forest, the cries grew louder. He followed the sound, moving deeper into the forest, every step bringing him closer to the source of the noise. Finally, he found a clearing where he saw a beautiful baby lying on the ground, seemingly abandoned.

He picked up the baby, feeling a sudden surge of protectiveness. As he held the baby in his arms, the cries stopped suddenly, replaced by an eerie silence that sent shivers down his spine.

As he turned around to go home, he noticed the orang bunian staring at him with glowing red eyes, standing in the trees like a shadow. Despite the fear that gripped him, he continued walking, determined to protect the baby from any harm.

As he left the forest, he heard the orang bunian whispering in his ears, its voice a haunting melody that made his heart race.

Days passed, and Ali noticed something strange about the baby. Its cries had turned into muffled whimpers, and it would always look at him with knowing eyes, as if it could understand him.

Late one night, just as Ali was about to go to bed, the baby started crying again, louder this time. As he picked it up, he noticed something strange. The baby's skin started turning into a dark, scaly hide, and its eyes started glowing, just like the orang bunian he had seen in the forest.

Suddenly, the baby started speaking in a chilling whisper, "I am not an ordinary baby, Ali. I am the skinwalker, the harbinger of death. And I have chosen you as my host."

Ali tried to scream, but he was silenced by the baby's grip on his throat. He was being controlled, manipulated by a force that he could not understand or comprehend.

From that day on, Ali was never seen again. Some say he was possessed by the skinwalker, and his soul was trapped forever in a dark realm beyond human understanding.

The orang bunian and the skinwalker still haunt the village, their presence felt in the eerie silence of each night, in the strange cries that resonate through the forest, and the uneasy feeling of being watched by something otherworldly.

The story of Ali serves as a warning to the unwary, a reminder that in the world of the unknown, not everything that glitters is gold, and not everything that cries is an innocent child.