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witchdoctor · Joined: 06 Mar 2007 Posts: 31 Location: USA

a friend of mine asked me to pass on these stories to your forum ;-

Malaysian Ghost Stories

Hello! my friend came across your website. Enclosed are a few true ghostly experiences from my childhood ive asked him to pass on to you all, when I was growing up in Malaysia. I now also spend a little time in London.

Title: ON THE STREET WHERE I LIVED

When I was little, I lived in a small Malaysian town called Klang and on a street address that said 'Cat's Eyes'. It was the early Seventies where even the Far East still celebrated Chubby Checker, the Beatles and Woodstock. The middle-class neighbourhood boasted rows of single-storey terraced houses that were fanned byoil palm trees in the background.

Containing very little of the modern infrastruture that makes up for the town'srobust personality today, and still inflenced in full swing by the Colonial era, (Malaysia received full independence from the British on August 31, 1957), it made for an extraordinary combination of manners and culture, with a mix of the english and malaysian.

At the time, we went to the Convent Klang, a strict Catholic school that was run byIrish nuns. The teenagers who partied about could have come from the swinging clubsin London. My father played Dusty Springfield all the time. And my mother adored Tom Jones.

Yet, there was a strange ruralness that heralded the town.

Each of the modern suburbs as it was thought to be, was surrounded by vast plantations and tiny estates of one kind or another. Some neighbourhoods wereencircled by a thick ring of rubber and banana trees. Otherwise, it just had to be those monstrous oil palm estates that the town was famous for.

On that street, you always had to be careful of the trees.

Almost every schoolmate had a mother, aunt or grandmother who warned her not to walk under the trees after 7pm. That was the unspoken golden rule; that signified the start of the witching hour.

It wasn't something as fictitious as M. Shyaman's blockbuster, The Village.

Each tree species was famous for an eerie legend. If only there were legends and not true incidents that others and I had experienced for ourselves at the end of theday...in short, a chilling episode at one time or the other. And if any of us heard, smelt, saw or felt anything in the way of sights, scents, noises or even physicalsensations, it would be between 7pm and 6am the next day and only if we were really unlucky.

One morning, as I swept the verandah - it was about 8am and a weekend, I heard a lady scream. It stills stays as the loudest scream I've heard so far in my life. I heard a lady scream and shout with anger. I couldn't make out her words. It literally appeared like a thunderous explosion that terrified me out of my skin.

I dropped the broom and started trembling. Her voice came directly from the trees.

It was swift; almost stopping in mid-air. She sounded very angry. Yet, it appeared as if her vowels had been cut short. As if she only said half-a-word or half-a-line. But it offered such a ear-splitting scream; you knew straightaway without any verbal language that the voice had an evil connotation. It just seemed to hang in the air and hover over all the houses.

It was louder, believe it or not, then the sound of an aeroplane.

There were families outside at the time - some were washing their cars and some housewives were hanging their clothes out to dry on fences. Nobody heard anything except for myself and a young Chinese dad.

He dashed out from his bedroom. He lived about six houses away. He kept asking if anyone had heard a lady screaming - he looked very frightened but no one else had heard anything. He insisted that a woman was shouting at the top of her voice from the estate nearby but everyone looked surprised. Obviously, he and I were the only ones who had heard it.

I kept silent.

About two weeks later, a pretty young Punjabi housewife who lived next door to us, asked my mother permission if I could keep her company for an evening.

Apparently, just the night before her husband had to work the late shift. There was always something eerie about the evenings and nights in the area where we lived. She was alone in the house at the time and fell asleep. At about 2am, she was awakened by someone crying, in the oil palm estate.

She said she heard a lady weeping.

It made her hair stand on end. The lady was weeping and moaning loudly. She appeared deeply unhappy and was crying and sobbing. She also uttered words but of course, it was too loud and bizarre for the housewife to understand anything.

At the time, she felt within her spirit, that the lady all the way in the forest wanted her to hear the sobs. She thought the lady would come to knock at her door and approach her. She felt a great fear and fainted.

The young housewife was clearly too frightened for words. I can still remember her crying, her stammering and her fear to this present day. She knew that no human being could produce that kind of effect on her. It went on for a long time.

No one else appeared to hear it but her. She was terrified and she couldn't sleep for many nights afterwards. It was after she heard it one more time in her life that
a few weeks later, she and her husband moved out.

About two years later, one of the houses directly opposite ours, appeared to turn suddenly haunted. A newly-married Chinese couple lived there with a toddler. The lady was quiet, traditional and always dressed in samfus.

I can still remember her sensible decorum well to this present day. This lady was happy there...she had many friends amongst the housewives. After a year of themmoving in, things started flying around the place, a bit like a Poltergeist.

The baby turned suddenly sick and ran a high fever. The doctors couldn't find anything wrong with the child.

The Chinese lady said that she was in the bathroom and the soap flew to the ceiling. The husband was at work and things started flying about, all around her. She went to get the baby, screamed and rushed out of the house. We all saw that scene. Someone telephoned the husband. I know that, that very evening they moved out.Today with all I have seen and know, I think how wise.

What I observed also as a certainty was that after the house was emptied, neighbours heard the sound of furniture being dragged about at night as well as other strange occurences.

A devout Methodist teacher who stayed next door, told my mother that as she lay down to sleep at night, she could hear voices in the empty house. She could especially hear chairs and tables being toppled about. The house was by then, bare. So she had a priest called to where she lived and she begged him in tears, to pray for her entire family's protection. But the noises went away only after a long time.

Some years later, some men came over to cut the palm trees to make way for new development. It looked like the restless spirits had been let loose. Every night from 1am, the dogs would start to howl in a horrible way. One after another and none of us could sleep. Sometimes, we could hear from our windows the tinkling of anklets or bracelets passing by. As if there was a girl or lady passing through the outside of our windows. This happened around 2am. Then one night, a young lad on the way home at that very hour and who had parked his motorcycle on a deserted side lane to enjoy a smoke, got the shock of his life when he saw the swift hazy movement of a young girl without feet.

In the mornings, we would a dead dog or cat and by the time the whole episode was over in a few weeks, a few old people had also died mysteriously in the night. It was said among the folks that the spirits had been deprived of their homes in the trees and had come to take revenge.

Well, I witnessed this bizarre experience firsthand.

At the time, we lived next door to a corner house, where the parents had beautiful daughters and during this very time, one of the daughters once woke up about 4 am when she heard the sound of running water. They had renovated their kitchen all the way to the backyard.

She and her sisters saw on separate occasions, a lady with very long black hair washing clothes in the kitchen sink with the water running on the soap suds.

They never saw this lady's face and was too terrified for words. The lady kept scrubbing and wringing dirty clothes; her back faced directly to them.

The only thing apparent was the way she bent over and with that long straight black hair almost reaching her ankles. Soon after, the mother called for a Chinese medium to say prayers for the whole family.

A few years ago in Singapore, I met this daughter who had since married a diplomat and travelled the world over. And to think, she still shudders at the frightening
episode.

It is my conclusion that once you pass through this strange dimension no matter how slightly, you'll remember its texture, shadows and layered darkness that stays a haunting escapade, all the days of your life. You won't be trying to recapture it. Instead, the incident will capture you.

The memory of that long jet black hair, running water and soap suds at the hands of a strange woman at 4am, has never left my friend. Of course, it was with relief that she was so thankful afterwards, that she never hung around long enough for the ladyto swing her face around.

------------------------------------------------

Susan Abraham
Kuala Lumpur
Malaysia

Hi again simon

Thank you so much for using my story on your site.
Here's another piece titled 'The 3 Opened Windows' enclosed further down.

I have had the ability to see spirits/things & situations from another dimension, that very few others can, since I was little and to me it's something normal...I take it in my stride. From my experiences here, the spiritual and physical dimensions are completely separate from each other.

In Asia, the spirits are quite violent, often female, sometimes destructive and sexual - you have to know how to evade them - some are curious and stay pleasant. They could just be passing by through to somewhere else.

I would like to send you a piece where perhaps I describe these situations in greater length. Many roam about and almost all are ancient.
Anyway, here's another true-account ghost story for the moment.

Title: The 3 Opened Windows.

I am someone who must never sleep near an opened window.

A few years ago in Kuala Lumpur, I tasted a ghostly encounter...something familiar and old...something that could never be logically explained and yet could be seen with my inner eyes.

I had stayed at a friend's house for the night. I had had a busy day, was drowsy and soon ready for bed.

The large creaky window was opened. I stayed quiet, lay in bed and thought of many things. But the night was peaceful and I was tired. I must have dozed off.

Soon, I was awakened from sleep into a direct consciousness, by someone poking rudely at my body. I froze. I did not know the time. Instead, I was frightened to feel the touch of human skin when I knew that I was alone.

I was fully-dressed by the way, having been too tired even to change. At first, in the darkness, I saw nothing. My eyes trained on every corner in the room and still, I could see nothing.

But I could feel the movement of human skin on my body and someone taking its times to poke me here and there...to grab at my toes violently without warning and to jab me in the corners of my waist.

I soon saw an apparition - a vague image of an old bent Asian woman.

Someone evil considering the pokes were causing me undue pain. I knew no more. She kept showing me the face of another Asian man...someone I knew.

It was an image of someone I liked as a friend but did not love and never would. I could see his face right in front of me. An instant picture in my mind like a sudden Polaroid. Again, I find this almost-illusive moment troubling and wondered if it was a hex sent by someone else.

In Malaysia, we call it putting a 'charm' on someone.

I found myself unable to move or scream. I lay encircled in a strange orbit of pain in a way that stays difficult to describe and consciously hard to feel.

But everytime I turned my head, I appeared to touch something that was far more painful than anything I remembered. I groaned. All I knew was not to turn my head.

I made the kind of loud sounds that you hear from prisoners in the torture chamber. It was a series of painful groans that I had never made in my life but watched on television when someone was being violently tortured. I was shocked at my own sounds. I thought I saw this woman move around the room and picked up once more the sensation of someone or something evil. She would move around though not like the way the rest of us moved.

The scene was shadowy and hazy.

Then she would come back to grab at my toes and her touch was so painful. At the time, I was too frightened to care. For some reason, I knew distinctly that she had come in through the window.

In the end, I called the name of Christ. The word stumbled out with a twisted moan. Still, it sounded loud and recognisable to myself.

Instantly, the woman and pain vanished and I was able to move again. I put on the light. I was fine. Not a mark or bruise on me. It was 12.30am. I paced around the room for awhile knowing from an old experience that while the room stayed garish with its brightness, the apparition or whatever it was, would not and could not return. I made a coffee, drank it quickly and went back to sleep with all the lamplights on.

I refused to contemplate what it was and what it could have been. I did not want to go down that dark road. All I knew was that a divine power had appreared to rescue me from my terrible predicament and that was enough. I also stayed relieved with a secret knowledge that it was harder for such apparitions to appear in lighted places.

Perhaps I had rescued myself in good time....who knows but thankfully, I was none the worse for wear.

Such a thing had happened to me once before too, in 1990. I stayed with a close friend in the township of Section 9, Shah Alam in Malaysia. It was a beautiful new suburb with many young Malay families setting up home. I had my own room.

Again, the window was opened. I woke up suddenly in the middle of the night. I could smell the strong aroma of coffee. I was younger then and more easily frightened than I was now.

I slept to my side and then I heard a woman lying next to me, her head on the pillow close to mine and breathing heavily. I could feel the texture of human breath brush against my skin.

She muttered something in the Malay and laughed. She wouldn't stop laughing. I heard only half-syllables. Remembering that very fear still rattles me today. It was the kind of fear that tends to appear when you suspect something terrible is about to happen to you physically. Then she suddenly vanished. But it seemed like forever. It was as if time stops being dead and the air becomes light again. You start to hear other little sounds like the frogs and the night insects. Shivering, I got up to quickly close the window but stayed afraid all night and could not sleep.

The next day, my friend said, why didn't I come to knock at her door where she, her husband and their baby slept. Not believing my ears, I laughed. I said that at the time when you're too frightened to even turn on your side to see who's lying next to you, the last thing you are able to do is to jump off the bed to call for help. People always think it's easy to flee such a situation but that is nothing short of miraculous. Intense fear enjoys paralysing its vicitm.

I also remember an incident with my friend, Rose, once before. She was a devout Christian - and I was nothing like her. She was also used to the idea of seeing more horrifying things than me.

Once she stayed with a friend in SEA Park, Petaling Jaya, Malaysia. The houses in Sea Park are old. Rose was lying on a mattress on the floor while her friend slept on a bed. They were bunking a room together. It was a somewhat messy double-storey house...the kind that hints of a dark history.

Suddenly late into the night, while Rose's friend lay in deep sleep, she was awakened rudely, from the sound of continued knocks on the locked window.

Rose jumped. All my friend could see was a young Chinese woman's face. She had no neck, no body, nothing. Just a face and a hand was visible. The face dangled like a lantern in slow motion.

She looked at Rose and kept pointing to Rose's friend.

Then she kept making gestures that indicated she wanted that friend to come to her and for Rose to open the window. Just repeated slight gestures but enough to give Rose a major electric shock.

Rose kept telling her no; waving her finger from left to right and mouthing the distinct alphabet 'O' to say no. She told me later that she probably did it by instinct, but she was in reality, scared. She also told me that the girl looked pitiful and very sad and kept indicating
that she wanted the friend and for Rose to open the window. Rose was terrified out of her wits. I don't know how I would have handled that. Perhaps I would have screamed.

Rose started to quote Bible verses. Her friend continued to sleep soundly. The girl at the window kept knocking and calling out to Rose. After a long while, the face and hand suddenly vanished.

I often say, don't open the bedroom window for those of us who can see the things that others cannot, or for those of us who can see the things that we musn't see.

Just never open the bedroom window at night.
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Malaysian Ghosts #3: In The Train

I no longer take the 8 hour night train from Kuala Lumpur into Singapore, leaving
10.30pm and reaching the Causeway at 7am. Perhaps the day journey. But never the
night trains that hurtle noisily on tracks twinning deep jungle terrain while they
roll through sleepy Malaysian towns (it is after all, the dead of night) one after
the other.

I often wonder if what I encountered would ever take place with someone else.

But older people, have told me that I have the third eye. I am the only one of a
few who can see these strange things. I have been fortunate or perhaps,
unfortunate, to have been born with this extra vision that catches black specks in
the air but cannot brush them away, that sees distorted cobwebby images dancing
about in nothingness and often when in prayer, I see sharp lights even as if a
force had splashed its headlights on me and refused to eye anything else. ]

My series of erractic fortunes or a life of misunderstood misfortune...my destiny
could so easily move any way now because of these strange visions at every turn of
the head.

The third eye is in other words; the ability to see into a spiritual dimension or
perhaps if I would put it so lightly so as to convince you the atheist if not the
cynic; then the easy comfort of peering into the subconscious or understanding
intuition like one would understand his morning breakfast. Two eggs sunny side up
and a slice of buttered toast.

Or as they say in Malaysia: A nasi lemak (pronounced naa-see ler-maak) packet. A
banana-leaf wrapped chunk of rice cooked in coconut cream and mixed with fried
anchovies, a spicy sambal, a cucumber slice, a hard-boiled egg, a sprinkling of
fried peanuts and your choice of a chicken drumstick or meat. And there you are.
I have summed up my abilities in a paragraph.

Once before, I took the night train to Singapore.

I signed up for a first-class carriage. Each solitary cubicle lined next to the
other faced a small corridor with which one could walk to a canteen. This would
only be opened at certain hours. However, if I was in danger and opened the door
to run, there may be little in the way of escape. It was one of the older
trains.

My cubicle was spacious and its bed bunk could comfortably hold two people. There
was a writing desk, a chair, a lamplight, a washbasin and a loo. It all looked
wonderful, really.

Otherwise, if like me, you travelled alone, it could also get rather daunting and
lonely, as well. Unless of course, you brought along music or a book to read.

My name was pasted outside the door for pleasant Immigration officials to check
passports in Johore Bahru, at the border of Malaysia before the train
caterpillared its way onwards into the ancient but roomy Tranjong Pagar station,
in Singapore.

Shortly after, I went to sleep. With the lights turned off, everywhere looked
pitch black.
Suddenly, I was awaked by the shouts of a man screaming. It was like thunder
in my ears. When I woke, everywhere still appeared pitch black. In fact, it
was so dark, I couldn't even see the usual shadows. My body could
hardly move. I was terrified already by a cold chill in the air. I started
to sweat.

There was a muffled conversation taking place in mid-air, in the Malay language,
about six inches away from my face. I couldn't see anything, only hear voices.
"Tolong, tolang, jangan bunuh saya, tolong." A man was pleading for his life.
Please don't kill me, he kept crying, Please, please don't kill me. I
remember, he was sobing loudly. He was choking on his own sobs. My
whole body became paraylsed with fear. I could hardly lift my head from the
pillow. But the couple seemed unaware of my presence. I say, 'the couple'
because a woman immediately retorted. She had a sharp, hiss for a voice. To
hear her, was truly frightening. It was like listening to the sound of a
snake.

You knew she was dangerous and straightaway, it occured to me that she could
strangle me at any time. It was a kind of knowledge instantly given to me.

She too, shouted at the top of her voice, with no compassion for the man.
Saya mahu bunuh kau. Saya betul-betul ajar kau. Saya bunuh kau sekarang.
Awak ta da dengar cakap saya. Saya bunuh kau." She kept spitting out
the same words over and over. "I will kill you right now," she yelled. "I
will teach you a lesson. You have never listened to me. I will kill you. I
will kill you." She seemed so full of hate and anger. But to just hear a
conversation right in front of your face and in your private domain, without
being able to see faces and bodies, is a truly terrifying expeirnce indeed.
Then the voices got jumbled up together. Both shouting and screaming at the
same time. I remember feeling really frightened because the sounds were
not fading. I tried to reach out for the night light. I could feel the woman
coming closer to me, as if she had noticed me for the first time. Then I could
feel her breath on my skin. I managed to reach for the light switch
that wasn't too far from my bed but I still remember
the fear as I fumbled about, almost losing my grip. This was one of the times when
I almost lost it. Then everything went silent.

As I have written before spirits cannot take the presence of flourescent light so
if you ever do see apparitions especially when in Asia, that is possibly your most
effective weapon.

I was frightened for a long time because there was no way I could have escaped.
The bed was tilted against the door. I would have to pass these distorted ghosts
just to get to the door. Also, when I noticed the time, it was 2.05am. It
is often said that the most dangerous times for ghosts to wander around in the
region where I live is between 12 midnight to 3am. By 5, they normally hurry back
to where they rest in the day as those who wander at nights are unable to face the
sunrise. But now.... The moment, I turned the light off, the voices returned
once more, the woman making a quick beeline for me.

I could hear the same screamings and pleadings and feel the woman's breath back on
mine. I managed to put the light back on again and thankfully, nothing untoward
happened after that.
I believe my cubicle was haunted and years ago, a murder would have taken
place. The souls have not yet rested. Another time to Singapore, I
chose a second-class carriage which comes with curtain-covered lower and
higher cubicles, blanket, pillow on a comfy bed and armed with a night light
that often doesn't work. I loved the chatter of families around me. It made
me feel safer.

Still, I could not escape. About 3am, as the train passed deep jungle, a spirit
leaped from outside, right onto my body. I don't know how she could have entered
the air-conditioned carriage. The windows were all sealed.

Also as if it knew I could sense its presence and was ready to comply for better
or worse.

This was a very angry, hateful femae apparition. She immediately tried to throttle
me and I could feel her fingers and hear her laughter. She laughed loudly all the
time but no one else could hear her. I was woken from sleep by the way and was
fully-consious. Again, I tried to call the name of Christ and I managed to do
this after much struggling. Then she immediately vanished.

Another time, also in a second-class night carriage on the way to Singapore (like
the earlier ones above), a man came in from nowhere in spirit form and immediately
tried to lie on me. He attempted to embrace me (I could feel his legs on mine)
but with the intention of killing and choking me.

It was a very painful experience because I couldn't fight this spirit that
appeared very strong (in its physical strength). And it held me very fast but
trying to choke me as well. I really thought this time round that my end had
come. I could even feel his bodily hairs and his stubble on my cheek.

I did not give up though. After awhile, once more on shouting the name of Christ
but I had to do this repeatedly, and then I was suddenly free of it as it vanished
from where it was, closeting in upon upon me. It felt like heavy chains had
entangled my body. I had a realisation that I had almost met a real death.

No one else appeared to have stirred.

I sat up and was unable to lie down again. I put on the night light that was where
my feet rested up. After about an hour, I lay down again as I was truly tired.
The man returned and tried to do the same thing to me, all over again.

I suffered a major trauma from this particular spirit, that was violent,
aggressive and armed with a powerful strength. And to know that it eyes you first
of all, amongst all the other passengers in the carriage can be really scary.

I saved my tickets to warn friends and family not to travel in these particular
cubicles. But older people told me that these spirits don't attack anyone else.
They only come to those they know can see them and they always recognise them
straightaway. The trains are old. So are the tracks and the jungles out there in
the Malaysian towns. We have thick forestry and many ancient trees. All which
probably hold a dark history.

From then on, I decided I would fly in to Singapore. Someone like me should never
take the night trains when you know you pass old and ancient things. It's simply
too dangerous.