Whispers of the Palasik

In a quiet village nestled between the misty highlands of West Sumatra, there lived an old healer named Mak Rina. Known for her midwifery skills and potions made from forest herbs, she helped many women during childbirth. But some whispered that she never aged… and that babies born near her hut often fell mysteriously ill — or vanished.

No one dared accuse her, until one day, a brave mother named Ani noticed something horrifying.

Ani had just given birth to her first child, a baby girl. On the seventh night, while everyone else slept, she heard a strange fluttering sound outside the window, like a giant bird’s wings — but slower. Peeking through the woven bamboo slits, she saw it:

A floating human head with entrails dangling beneath it — heart, lungs, stomach all still connected, pulsing and wet. Its eyes were milky white, its hair wild like a nest of snakes. The head hovered closer, tongue flicking, sniffing for newborn blood. It was the Palasik — a cursed being that feeds on unborn and newborn children.

Ani clutched her child and began to chant an old prayer taught by her grandmother. The Palasik shrieked and retreated into the darkness, disappearing toward the mountains. The next day, she followed the trail… and found herself outside Mak Rina’s hut.

Inside, Mak Rina lay asleep — or so it seemed. Her body was there… but her head was gone.

The villagers gathered, horrified. They waited until dawn, when the sun would banish evil spirits. But just before the first light, the head came back — flying through the trees. With a final cry, the villagers captured her body and set it aflame, breaking the bond and ending the curse.

But some say the Palasik never truly dies — it only transfers its spirit to another. And when a midwife grows too old yet never wrinkles… people in the highlands still lock their windows tight and whisper, “Jangan keluar malam, Palasik bisa mencium darah…”