Folk Tales and Unusual Accounts (Part Five)

**Story One**

This is a tale my uncle told me about his childhood.

In a quiet village in Hunan, where my uncle lived, there existed an ancient tradition. Whenever someone passed away, it was customary to perform a night-time ritual to transport the deceased to their final resting place on the mountainside. Though this may sound eerie, the villagers regarded it as a way of showing respect and paying tribute to the departed souls.

One day, an elderly villager in the community passed away. According to the tradition, preparations began for the ritual. On that night, with the moon casting a pale glow, an air of solemnity hung over the village. My uncle and a few other children eagerly joined in, although a sense of trepidation gnawed at them. They knew better than to defy the village's age-old customs.

With flashlights in hand and shrouded by the night, they embarked on this journey to transport the deceased. The body was placed on a makeshift cart, and an eerie silence enveloped them. Shadows danced on the ground under the sway of the moonlight, resembling countless phantoms encircling them.

Halfway through their journey, an unexpected chill swept over them, sending shivers down their spines. The flashlight beams flickered, causing the surroundings to blur, yet they couldn't halt their progress.

Suddenly, a low groan emanated from the body on the cart. My uncle and the other child gasped in unison, their eyes fixed on the body. Astonishingly, the body began to move, as if imbued with life, slowly climbing down from the cart.

Frozen in terror, everyone stood there, unable to move. The corpse stood before them, its face pallid, eyes hollow, seemingly peering into the depths of their souls. Fear quickened their heartbeats, but they were paralyzed.

Then, the corpse emitted a piercing scream, a sound akin to a howl from the depths of hell, deafening in its intensity. Finally breaking free from their terror-induced paralysis, my uncle and the other child spun around and sprinted away, as though pursued by a malevolent entity.

They fled back to the village, not daring to look back. Wheezing heavily, they halted, their bodies drenched in cold sweat. They exchanged glances, their eyes filled with disbelief.

The following day, they recounted their nightmarish experience to the village elders, who furrowed their brows and fell silent. Eventually, one of the elders informed them that they might have unwittingly offended the mountain spirits during the ritual, leading to these bizarre occurrences.

From then on, my uncle never again participated in such rituals, and he refrained from venturing out at night without reason. Whenever night fell, he involuntarily recollected that eerie night, his heart still haunted by an indelible fear.

**Story Two**

I have a relative named Xiaoli, who is a devoted fan of theater. One day, she heard that a traveling theater troupe was performing in her village that evening, and she eagerly decided to attend. As night descended, the moon shone brightly, and the stage was illuminated with dazzling lights. Spectators gathered in anticipation of a captivating performance.

Xiaoli found a seat and watched the actors on stage with great excitement. However, as the performance reached its climax, she began to sense that something was amiss. She glanced around and noticed a blurry figure seated next to her.

This figure appeared to be a woman, dressed in archaic clothing, with a pallid complexion and hollow eyes. Xiaoli attempted to focus on the stage, but the mysterious figure persisted in her peripheral vision. An unsettling feeling crept over her as if invisible eyes were scrutinizing her every move, making it difficult to enjoy the show.

After the performance concluded, and the audience dispersed, Xiaoli quickly rose from her seat, hoping to escape the eerie presence. Yet, as she turned to leave, she discovered that the enigmatic woman was following closely behind her. Her heart raced as she questioned who this person was and why they were trailing her.

Xiaoli quickened her pace, attempting to shake off the woman. However, regardless of the route she took, the figure remained steadfastly by her side, as though they were connected by an unbreakable bond. The more she walked, the farther she seemed to return, eventually finding herself back at the same theater, with the lights extinguished.

Overcome by fear, she stood there, rooted to the spot. Suddenly, the woman let out a piercing scream, a sound that resembled the wails of a restless spirit, sending shivers down Xiaoli's spine. She closed her eyes in terror.

When she dared to open them again, the woman had vanished. Xiaoli glanced around, realizing she stood alone in an empty theater, with the lights extinguished. Her heart still raced, and sweat dripped from her brow.

Xiaoli resolved never to attend the theater again. Every nightfall,