HORROR OF MOUNTAIN CLIMBERS
DUE TO THROWING AWAY ARBITRARY SANITARY PAD PART10

My body shivered uncontrollably. Not a single bit I can shift. The creature kept looking at me, his blood-soaked face glistening as the moonlight struck. Behind me, Nyi Linggi's black robe seemed to sway in the wind. From the corner of my eye, I saw his hand moving about to reach me.

Unable to move, my eyes widened in horror as his pale fingers touched my shoulders. I tried to remember any prayer, but my panicked mind could not remember a single prayer. I was able to master my body again when I heard the sound of flapping wings through my ears. A black crow flew between me and Nyi Linggi and then alighted on Ayu's grave.

The bird's head moved. His black eyes looked at me. Then suddenly he roared violently and flew towards me. I screamed in fear while covering my face with my hands trying to avoid the black bird's claw. But he just passed by, and at the same time missed also Nyi Linggi's nail that stuck on my shoulder.

Realizing, I immediately inched to the side quickly avoiding the reach of Nyi Linggi's hand, then with trembling legs I turned around and ran as fast as I could. I ran in no direction. The gray mist blocked my view. All I thought about was moving as far as possible. Imagining the pale hands of Nyi Linggi reaching my back made my entire body tremble.

A black silhouette appeared suddenly in front of me, unable to avoid, I fell rolling on the ground. I got up, alert. My eyes nyalang look around trying to find the figure of Nyi Linggi and the Blood creature earlier. They were nowhere to be seen, all around me was a thick fog. There was no sound whatsoever.

In front of me was a mound of earth. Another grave. I fell down to avoid this grave that suddenly appeared in the fog. A second of my hair bristled, afraid that I was just circling in place. But at first glance I was immediately relieved, this is not a new grave. It's a different cemetery.

His headstone from a stone that was already filled with moss. Slowly I moved closer. I hid behind a tombstone. From behind, with fear I searched for a figure that approached, but what appeared was only fog. This opportunity I use to regulate my breath and calm my heartbeat. I gently touched my pants pocket, worried that the pads were falling, but it was still there.

The flapping of the wings sounded again, and suddenly from behind the fog the black Crow appeared and directly landed on the tombstone above my head. I was shocked to death, dodging to roll away. The crow stayed there as if it didn't care. He developed his black wings and started pecking at those wings. I'm still watching him beware. Tonight's events taught me that anything can happen.

My neck is stiff, but I don't want to take my eyes off this bird. I convinced myself to be ready if the bird turned into a Kuntilanak or any demon. But that bird doesn't care about me at all. He flapped his wings and descended upon the grave. Its beak pecked at the moss that flourished covering the gravestone.

Something crossed my mind. I slowly approached the mossy tombstone. With trembling hands I slowly pulled the moss that seems to have grown on this tombstone for years without ever being cleaned. When I pull, the roots of the fibers also pull off the cement flakes. This tombstone is so fragile.

The moonlight was too weak to help me see what was engraved on this tombstone, so I stuck my fingers together, trying to read it by hand. The first letter that reads is the letter M, the next without difficulty I recognize the letter O. I had trouble recognizing the next letter, the sculpture was worn out, the letter strokes were a bit vague, whether the letter..... K

I stumbled to follow his hurriedly-looking steps. A thick gray fog still surrounded us, but that person seemed to understand the direction of his steps. I look back for a moment. My hunch says something's following, but every time I get something there's just emptiness.

The fog is getting thinner, but the feeling of gripping even more felt. My intensity is looking back more and more. Every time I jumped in shock, feeling a cold hand touch my nape. I can no longer distinguish between hallucinations or reality. Is it just my feeling or is it really a hand.

The fog did not help at all. The dark shadows of the thin, branching cantigi tree in my eyes were like a ghostly figure standing still. Many times I have fallen, but the man has not looked. He's still walking. Only occasionally did he glance at the clock in his hand or light his cigarette. All done while walking.

Kuntilanak figures appear occasionally from behind trees. This time I don't care. I don't care about the figure that flew from branch to branch. Nyaliku back tested when heard the voice of an old woman singing the Javanese song. His voice sounded slow but clear. The man suddenly stopped and took out his machete. Instead of continuing to follow the path, the man instead broke through the bush on my left.

He used it to open the road. We broke through the weeds at waist level. In some places the weeds even exceeded my height. A hand protruded from behind the bush, but lightly the man swung his machete swiftly. The hand broke off and turned into a fog. Along the way, those handcuffs are getting more and more. They did not only emerge from behind the bush, but also from underground.

The man stopped again. This time he asked me to turn around the path. I was restless to see his face was no longer as calm as usual. His machete was again swung to the left right. Suddenly we came out at the Horse Cemetery. Our sudden appearance apparently diverted the attention of the ghosts of villagers who seemed to be draped in the climber's tent. Dozens of pairs of eyes stared at us without blinking. Without any command suddenly they moved slowly towards us.

I was hysterical when the ghost closest to me hugged my thigh. I thrashed until I fell. That hand just came off when that guy pulled me. While the voice of the old woman who sang the Javanese song sounded closer and closer. The guy whispered softly in my ear, "run boy." Then he added, "Never look back."

Along with the smell of blood, the man ran while dragging me. I ran the zigzag avoiding the ghostly hands of the villagers trying to reach my feet. Apart from the village ghost siege, I begged the man to stop for a rest. Both my legs are almost numb. But he kept pulling me. I ran with limping and holding pain in the soles of the feet, until I finally collapsed because my thighs were cramped. It feels like all my energy has been drained.

In front of me, behind the bush was a huge old tree. The wood skin is white. Long hair-like tendrils fall here and there from its giant branches. The first thing I saw was a pocong coming out from behind the tree. My heart is beating slowly. But I resigned, realizing I couldn't run with legs like this.

Next is kuntilanak. Some sit while shaking their legs, some hang with their heads down. There are two or three blood-red kuntilanak, the others are white. It was the most unusual sight I met on the climb, it was like a Kuntilanak fruit. And the tendrils are like hair. I'm mistaken. In fact, it is hair.....