Indonesian Horror Story

Larung

The sound of cicadas reverberated through the air, their rhythmic chirping filling the silence of the night. Maryati sat on the front porch of her house, sipping on a cup of tea as she listened to the insects sing. She had just finished cooking dinner, a delicious bowl of bakso, and was enjoying the peace and calm of her village. That was until a loud knock on her door shook her out of her trance.

"Who could that be at this hour?" she thought to herself as she made her way to the front door.

As she opened the door, she found her neighbor, Ibu Agnes, standing there with a letter in hand. Agnes was always one to be involved in community events and activities, and their village was no exception. So when Agnes handed Maryati the letter and invited her to attend the upcoming Larung Festival, she wasn't surprised.

"Apa itu?" Maryati asked, not being familiar with the festival.

"It's a festival where we release floating lanterns into the sky, to honor our ancestors," Agnes explained with a smile.

Maryati was intrigued and decided to attend the festival the next day.

The next day, Maryati dressed in her best clothes and made her way to the festival. When she arrived, the air was thick with incense, the smell was intense and made her head spin. People were everywhere, dressed in traditional clothing and carrying baskets of offerings. She was fascinated by the sight, but there was something off about this festival that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

As the sun began to set, the villagers gathered in a large open field in the center of the village. The air grew cooler, and the sky above them turned a deep shade of purple. Suddenly, dozens of large paper lanterns were ignited and released into the air, their bright orange glow lighting up the sky above. The villagers cheered and clapped as the lanterns drifted higher above them.

Maryati felt a shiver run down her spine as she watched the lanterns float higher and higher. Something wasn't right about this festival, but she couldn't figure out what it was. As the crowd began to disperse, Maryati decided to make her way back home.

As Maryati walked home alone, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had been gnawing at her since the festival. The streets were empty and eerily quiet, the only sound being her footsteps hitting the pavement. Suddenly, she heard a faint chanting sound coming from the nearby cemetery.

Curiosity got the best of Maryati, and she decided to investigate. As she approached the cemetery gates, the chanting grew louder and more frenzied. She peered through the gate and saw a group of hooded figures gathered around a small fire, their faces hidden in the shadows of their hoods.

Maryati was about to leave when one of the hooded figures looked directly at her, their eyes glowing red. She froze as all the hooded figures began to chant in unison, their voices getting louder and more intense with each passing moment. Maryati's legs felt weak, and she stumbled backwards, unable to move.

Just as she thought it was the end, the chanting suddenly stopped, and the figures vanished. Maryati ran home, her heart pounding in her chest.

Maryati couldn't sleep that night, her mind replaying the events of the festival and the encounter with the hooded figures. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that the Larung Festival was not what it seemed. As dawn approached, she decided to speak to Agnes about her suspicions.

Agnes listened patiently as Maryati explained her experience at the cemetery, a worried expression on her face. She then revealed the true purpose of the Larung Festival: to appease the spirits of the dead. The floating lanterns were used to lead these spirits back to the cemetery, where the hooded figures would perform rituals and ceremonies to keep them from causing harm to the living. It was a practice that had been going on for generations in their village, a closely guarded secret among the elders.

Maryati couldn't believe what she was hearing and felt a deep sense of dread. What if the spirits were not appeased? What if they decided to harm the living? She knew that she had to do something to stop the festival from happening again.

The next day, Maryati went to the village elders and pleaded with them to stop the Larung Festival. She warned them of the danger and the possibility of the spirits being angered instead of appeased. The elders, however, refused to listen, citing the long-standing traditions of their village.

Determined to put a stop to the festival, Maryati decided to take matters into her own hands. That night, she snuck into the cemetery, searching for any evidence to prove her theory. She found the hooded figures gathering around a small altar, chanting in a language that was foreign to her. They were performing a ritual, and at the center of the altar was a small statue, its eyes glowing red.

Suddenly, Maryati was caught by one of the hooded figures, and she realized that there was no way out. But to her surprise, the hooded figure revealed itself to be Agnes. Tears streamed down Agnes's face as she told Maryati the truth about the festival and the danger it posed to the village.

Maryati and Agnes decided to confront the elders together, hoping that they would listen to reason. They revealed everything they had learned and pleaded with the elders to put a stop to the Larung Festival. To their surprise, the elders listened, finally realizing the danger that they had been putting their village in for generations.

The next year, there was no Larung Festival in their village. The spirits were allowed to rest peacefully, and the villagers were safe from harm. Maryati had saved the day and learned that sometimes it takes courage to stand up for what is right, even in the face of opposition.