I have collected ghost stories since I was young and so decided to share some with you guys. This one is told to me by a family friend on my maternal grandmother side. It is a classic Malaysia ghost story!
My maternal grandmother lives on a small hill in Port Dickson. It’s a small town la, and halfway up the hill got a old railway track, nowadays very seldom used. This family friend told us that one night, after he visited my grandmother he was driving down the hill and his car broke down at the railway track. No matter what he did also cannot start the car. Then the creepy thing start to happen. He heard soft marching sound coming from nowhere. Then the sound got louder and louder and he could tell that it is getting nearer and nearer to his car! And when the ‘marching’ neared, he heard commands in Japanese! Then it was as if a group was marching past in front of his car, but of course he didn’t see anything lar. Then he was freaked out of his mind in his car but didn’t dare to get out some more, so he waited and the marching sound gradually went away and he tried starting his car again, and fortunately it worked! Then he sped off and never dare to drive past that road too late at night.
So far he was the only one who ever had supernatural encounters at that railway track lar. My uncles and aunties drive past there dunno how many decades liao also never see. But choy, best is never see la!
Interesting fact is THERE IS an old tunnel in the vicinity of that railway track that used to be a Japanese command center during WWII. My uncle brought me there before (in broad daylight la!), we trespass climbed in and there were still some old furniture and telephones left there. Now they sealed it up le but there are rumors that it may be reopened as a museum of some sorts. Hope they do la. Rare WWII legacy leh!
I do believe there is some truth to this because when my youngest brother was a small toddler we had a few freak incidents regarding to supernatural.
First one I believe is when my paternal grandfather passed away. My brother was a crawling baby then, so while we were at the funeral at the void deck, my baby brother was taken care of by my aunties from the maternal side, who came from Malaysia to help us take care of my baby brother. That time he was very small and although he had begun to yadda yadda it was mainly gibberish and he couldn’t even say mummy.
According to my aunties, they were watching TV in the house and my little brother crawling on the floor entertaining himself when suddenly he pointed at an empty chair (my grandpa’s favorite chair) and called out “YE YE!” (grandpa in Chinese). And my aunties said my brother was all cheery and seemed very happy to ‘see’ whatever was at the chair and kept yelling “YE YE! YE YE! YE YE!” and pointed at the chair to them. Then they quickly picked my brother up and dashed downstairs to join us at the funeral.
Second time is when we were back at our maternal grandmother’s. My maternal grandfather passed away a few years back and my little brother had never met him. Then according to my mother, the first night we were back, my little brother woke up crying (he was about 2 years old) in the wee hours of the morning and wouldn’t stop. Then my mother was cooing him when he pointed at the ceiling fan in the living room and muttered cowardly, “Gong gong.” My mother immediately lighted some joss sticks to offer to my granddad and told him not to scare my baby brother. After that night, my brother never complained of ‘gong gong’ anymore.
Okay, this last one is the freakiest one for me because it always happen in my previous apartment. I adore my baby brother a lot la, and often help take care of him. But at our previous apartment hor, come night time he always cry and clung to us when he trotted past one of our bedrooms, which is at the end of the hallway, opposite my parents’ room. That room was never occupied, but my brother always acted as if he saw ‘things’ in there. My mother swore that sometimes when she was dressing him for bed in her room my brother was always darting his eyes at that room in a frightened manner and would always hid behind my mother as if he was scared of something. And I carried him past the room before and he always clung exceptionally hard at me as we walked past. Gave me the creeps, but I personally (CHOY!) never saw anything there. But then again I suspect I am one of those who will never see anything (HENG AH!).
The worst time for me is when once, I was in THAT room using the mirror (got a big ass mirror in that room) when my brother trotted past and suddenly dashed in and clung to my leg like a koala, mumbling “Jie Jie, wo pa, wo pa!” (Sister, I scare, I scare!) all while darting his eyes at a corner of THAT room. Freak the living daylights out of me and I had to dragged the both of us out of the room (he was quite heavy by then ah, can run can jump liao) with him clinging on my leg.
And this sort of things with my little brother stopped after he turned 4. After he ‘graduated’ from his babyness, we never hear strange strange things from him le. Which is good! My heart is strong, but dunno can take it for too long or not.
Okay, end of my family story. Now another Pulau Tekong horror.
This was told to me by a JC friend 4 years ago at a gathering. That time he just finished BMT and left Tekong. He told us that there is this thing about not training on Thursday night because of the Malay belief that Thursday night is our otherworldly friends ‘party night’. Okay then, so my friend passed his initial days at BMT with no strange business … until
Then on their first Friday morning at Tekong right, one of his bunk mates woke up and found a few strands of long hair on his bed! He picked up the hair strands and showed everyone some more. My friend saw already all goosebumps ‘cos army camp all botak where got long hair, right?! But then my friend said although they were quite rightly freaked out, they acted very manly and tried to reason that because previously there was a family-visit-camp thingy so maybe coincident some girl left her long long hair there la. Okay, fair enough.
BUT THEN, the following Friday morning right, the Malay guy woke up with A LOT MORE LONG HAIR on HIMSELF. What makes it more creepy is hor, the Malay guy doesn’t recall anything strange about Thursday night. Then my friend and his bunk mates all were freaking out, but no choice got to stay there together until BMT over. So every Thursday night no one in that bunk dare to wake up go toilet and they endured this Friday morning long hair business until they left Tekong.
Okay, enough stories for today or else the post gets really long…