Chapter 15 – From Heroes to Hysterics
The village of Lingkar Pinus was once again abuzz with talk about the four young men who had previously beaten up a pocong at the haunted three-way junction. The tale went viral in their neighborhood, even making the village head shake his head in disbelief—both amazed and confused. Thanks to their so-called "heroic" act, the young men were promoted to official night patrol officers.
The reason was simple.
"If they can beat up a pocong, they'll scare the hell out of any thief," joked the villagers, laughing.
From then on, they were known as midnight heroes—because, well... their work hours started at midnight, not during the day.
But the praise backfired. The four became cocky. As if nothing—neither humans nor spirits—could scare them anymore.
That night, the patrol post was lively. The four midnight heroes were lounging around, preparing to start their shift as the clock crept toward midnight.
"Bro, quit the game already. Let's go patrol. Time to catch thieves or ghosts who haven't repented," said Ibnu, the guy in the white skullcap.
"Wait, man. I'm pushing the base!" replied Herman without looking up, fingers dancing over his phone screen.
Ibnu sighed, slipping on his shoes.
"Getting a fixed salary and still blowing it all on skins. Typical single dude," commented Wahyu, who had a sarong slung around his waist.
"My money, my rules! You're just salty about life," Herman shot back.
"If you go broke and don't have savings, you're the one who'll be crying, bro," Wahyu started to get annoyed.
And sure enough— "Lost again! Ugh, it's your fault for being so noisy! I'm on a losing streak!" Herman nearly slammed his headphones but stopped, realizing they were expensive.
"You're the one playing, but we're the ones getting blamed? Bro, really…" Karno, the quiet one in a sarong, couldn't help but chime in.
"Alright, enough. It's almost midnight. Want us to leave without you?" Ibnu asked, ready to head out.
Herman grumbled and stuffed his phone into his pocket. "Fine! Wait up! It's creepy walking alone!"
Finally, the four set off on their patrol.
One a.m. They were almost done with their route—just one place left: the haunted junction where they had beaten up the pocong a few nights ago.
"Man, I got chills…" Wahyu muttered, rubbing his arms.
"Same," Herman glanced nervously left and right.
"Got a bad feeling," Karno added.
"Don't tell me…"
And yep.
As if summoned by memory, the shabby pocong appeared again at the center of the junction. The marks from their shoes were still imprinted on his white shroud. His face was charred, his eyes glowing red.
But fear wasn't what they felt—quite the opposite.
"Dude, it's you again! Want another beatdown?" Wahyu grinned.
"Looking for trouble, huh?" Herman flexed his hands, ready.
"How many times do we have to teach you, old ghost?" Karno clenched his fist.
"Let's go, boys!" shouted Ibnu.
"Hail Hydra!" they yelled in unison, leaping forward—ready to deliver their signature move.
But then—
WHAM!
Their bodies slammed into a wall… made of hair.
"Hehehe… Where do you think you're going, kids?" a deep voice whispered in their ears.
They fell.
A massive black figure with long hair, glowing red eyes, and fangs stood before them, blocking their way. Its grin was wide… terrifying.
Then—
GONGG!!!
A blast of gamelan music exploded in the air. Six ganongan appeared, dancing rapidly in circles around them. Then three giant barongan joined in, swaying wildly. The gamelan grew louder, more chaotic, shaking the ground.
"What the hell is this!?" Herman screamed.
"I'm scared! Don't push me!" Wahyu panicked.
"Ma… Mommmyy!!" Karno nearly wet himself.
Ibnu tried to recite a prayer, but his voice trembled. His fear was stronger than his faith.
Everything spiraled into madness. Unrecognizable chants echoed. The gamelan pounded like the world was ending. The boys shut their eyes and ears, praying for it to stop.
And suddenly—
Silence.
No music. No dancing.
But they were too scared to open their eyes.
"Bro, maybe we should peek… maybe they're gone," Herman suggested.
"Nope. You go first," Wahyu refused.
"I'm scared." — "Same."
Ibnu dared to open his eyes first.
What he saw made his face turn pale.
Six pocong stood just a meter away. The stench was foul. Their faces charred, their shrouds tattered, their eyes burning red.
The three barongan from earlier… had become giant genderuwo, towering with fiery eyes, staring down at them.
And above them, a kuntilanak floated, spinning silently… but gleefully.
Distorted, misshapen spirits watched from every direction. It was horrifying.
"I-I-I…" Ibnu tried to speak, failed.
Seeing Ibnu so scared made the others curious.
"GHOSTS!!!" they screamed in unison as they opened their eyes.
"HIHIHIHIHIHI!"
The kuntilanak cackled, the gamelan resumed—this time slow and haunting. The creatures circled them, smiling wide. Slowly, they drew closer… and reached out.
"AAAAAAAHHHHH!"
Their screams tore through the night. They wanted to faint—but somehow, they couldn't. They were forced to stay conscious—forced to witness it all.
And from a distance…
The pocong they had once beaten stood watching, smiling with satisfaction.
"I told you… revenge is best served cold."
The astral beings danced, laughed, touched and crawled over them—one by one. The boys screamed and cried, but no help came.
In that midnight hour, only the pocong's laughter remained.
"That's what you get, you little punks!"