The Pocong: Indonesia’s Terrifying Ghost Legend"

Indonesian Ghosts: The Pocong – Terror from the Abandoned Graveyard

In a small village in Java, there was an old, abandoned cemetery. The tombstones were crumbling, covered in moss, and the wild grass had grown so tall that it almost swallowed the graves. The air around the place was always colder than anywhere else. Villagers avoided passing by, especially after sunset.

It wasn’t without reason. For years, many had claimed to see something lurking among the graves—a figure wrapped in a burial shroud, hopping between the tombstones as if waiting for something… or someone.

Danu, the Skeptic

Danu was a young man from the city who didn’t believe in superstitions. When his mother asked him to visit his grandmother in the village, he saw it as nothing more than a short vacation.

"Grandma, why is everyone so afraid of that cemetery?" Danu asked over dinner.

His grandmother’s gaze darkened. "Don’t mess around, Danu. That place must not be disturbed."

Danu chuckled. "Come on, Grandma. Those are just old village tales."

His grandmother sighed. "If that’s what you think, then don’t be surprised if you see it for yourself."

That night, curiosity got the better of him. Armed with a flashlight, Danu made his way toward the abandoned cemetery, even as the sound of crickets and the cold night air made his skin crawl.

A Spine-Chilling Encounter

The cemetery was eerily silent. Nothing but old graves and an overwhelming sense of unease.

Just as he turned to leave, a strange sound echoed through the air. A faint, dragging noise—like cloth brushing against the ground.

Danu froze.

Under the pale moonlight, standing between the graves, was a figure wrapped in a tattered burial shroud. Its face was hollow, empty, and an unbearable stench filled the air.

Danu’s heart pounded. The figure stood motionless… until, suddenly, it hopped toward him!

Panic surged through Danu’s veins. He bolted, running as fast as his legs could carry him, his breath ragged, his feet stumbling over twisted roots. As he neared his grandmother’s house, the sound of the hopping creature grew closer.

Just as he reached the door, his grandmother’s voice rang out from inside. "Don’t be afraid! It just wants to be freed!"

Danu gasped. What did she mean?

A Secret Buried in the Graveyard

Once inside, his grandmother shut the door and made him sit down. "You saw it, didn’t you?" she asked softly.

Danu nodded, still trembling.

His grandmother exhaled deeply. "Many years ago, a young man was murdered unjustly and buried there. But when he was laid to rest, the burial shroud’s knot was never untied. That’s why his soul remains trapped."

Danu swallowed hard. "So… it wasn’t trying to harm me?"

His grandmother shook her head. "It’s been searching for someone brave enough to set it free."

That night, Danu lay awake, haunted by the hollow face of the pocong. If it only wanted freedom, what should he do?

Courage in the Dead of Night

The following night, heart pounding, Danu returned to the cemetery. This time, he carried prayers and determination.

The air grew colder as he approached the oldest grave.

And there it was—the pocong, standing eerily still.

Danu swallowed his fear. "I… I will help you," he whispered.

With trembling hands, he knelt down and carefully dug through the earth, searching for the tightly knotted burial shroud. His fingers found the fabric, rough and ancient, and with a deep breath, he untied the knot.

The moment the knot came undone, a strong wind howled through the cemetery, and for a brief second, the pocong simply stood there. Then, slowly, its form began to fade, dissolving under the moonlight like mist being carried away by the wind.

Danu collapsed, breathless. The cemetery fell silent once more.

From that night on, there were no more sightings of the pocong in the village.

Yet Danu would never forget. He had arrived as a skeptic, but he left as someone who had seen the truth—not all spirits seek to haunt. Some just want to be remembered… and set free.