The jungle air, humid and dense, pressed against Aminah's skin like a damp cloth. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig under her worn sandals, sent shivers down her spine. It wasn't the usual nocturnal symphony of the Malaysian rainforest she was used to, not now, there was now fear added into her natural comfort, her new reason.
She clutched the parang tighter, the worn handle slick with her own sweat. Its weight was some measure of comfort, though she'd never wielded it against anything more than overgrown vegetation before. Before tonight that is.
"Mak…," she murmured, her voice a breath against the overwhelming sounds of the forest, sounds of chittering insects and calling animals all were like some great weight around her body and throat, and the weight kept getting heavier and heavier.
Just hours ago, she had been safe within the confines of her small village, nestled at the edge of this sprawling wilderness. Now, the flickering oil lamps and the familiar voices of her neighbors felt a world away, and the world seemed to turn red, more like some cruel mockery.
A twig snapped nearby. Aminah froze, her heart hammering against her ribs. She scanned the undergrowth, the dense foliage, her heart a captive thing held by sharp hands, claws ready and sharp.
Moonlight, fractured by the dense canopy, illuminated fragments of the jungle floor. Shadows danced, playing tricks on her tired eyes, and this she knew; there were few tricks or jests left.
She took a tentative step forward, her bare feet sinking slightly into the soft earth. Another step. And another, her legs weak.
"Who's there?" she called out, her voice trembling despite her attempt at courage, as if she had not already found some answer, as if she was now blind, lost in darkness, cold and absolute.
The forest remained eerily silent, answering her plea with a deafening stillness that was worse than any noise, a final insult added before the end.
A low growl, guttural and animalistic, echoed from behind a thicket of bamboo. Aminah whirled around, her parang raised, muscles and tendons crying, no answers found in screams of sinew.
The bamboo stalks parted, revealing a figure that made her blood run cold, as cold and cruel as these shadows. A nightmare brought out into cold night air, an answer.
It was humanoid, but impossibly contorted. Its limbs were elongated, its skin stretched thin and translucent over jutting bones. The eyes glowed with a sickly yellow light, all cruel light and burning, final things, promises broken.
The creature, this ghoul, emitted another growl, a sound that scraped against Aminah's sanity like rusty nails on bone, this she found herself listening to, over and over, cold now.
"Apa kau ni…?" she breathed, her question lost in the sudden, explosive rush of the creature.
It lunged, impossibly fast, its clawed hands reaching for her. Aminah screamed, a primal sound of terror torn from her throat, sharp like screams of tortured muscle.
She swung the parang, a desperate, wild arc. The blade connected, biting into flesh and bone with a sickening crunch, that sound too she listened to, an odd soundtrack.
The ghoul staggered back, its yellow eyes fixed on her with an unholy hunger. Black, viscous fluid oozed from the wound, thick, almost smoking in final and futile defiance.
Another growl, and another ghoul emerged from the darkness, then another. Soon, Aminah was surrounded, their forms distorted by the shadows. It would soon be over.
She swung again, and again, hacking and slashing, driven by pure, unadulterated terror. Each blow found its mark, but the ghouls kept coming. A horrid orchestra of sorts, and there was much music.
One of them managed to grab her arm, its claws sinking deep into her flesh. A wave of white-hot pain shot through her, and she almost dropped the parang. No choice remained but acceptance, of all things there could ever be, this remained.
Summoning every last ounce of her strength, Aminah ripped her arm free, leaving ragged strips of skin hanging from the ghoul's claws. A small thing to add to the orchestra of cold screams and hateful sights.
She stumbled backward, putting some distance between herself and the creatures. She knew it was hopeless, just this one final act, defiance in face of everything and anything, there she was.
She thought of her mother, her father, her little sister. She'd never see them again. That thought spurred her on, fueled her with a brief surge of defiance. Cold warmth, now she held.
The ghouls advanced, their eyes burning holes in her soul. They were toying with her, enjoying her terror, savoring her slow and terrible suffering.
"Jangan!" she shouted, the word laced with fear, desperation, and an anger that felt too small, too insignificant, the universe deaf to all her struggles, all things now deaf and blind.
One of the ghouls stepped forward, closer than the rest. Its face was the worst she'd seen yet. Empty sockets where eyes should be, a gaping maw filled with rows of needle-sharp teeth, a smile of pain, a gift and final.
"Mati," the ghoul hissed, the word rasped, it felt thick. Aminah's mind reeled. This one had some command of human speech, some form of past.
This, though horrible to her ears, though spoken through rotting lungs and teeth, it was nonetheless more sound in the great night, the hateful song of the night that would be her death, she knew that now.
It lunged. Aminah tried to defend herself, but she was too slow, too exhausted. The ghoul's claws tore into her, opening up her chest, cold and quick, efficient death, this she found.
She gasped, the air escaping her lungs in a ragged whoosh. Her vision swam, her entire body cold.
She wanted nothing of what had come to her, there in that final moment, she wished only for what could be nothing but the faintest and most far-off notion of a human life.
Her parang fell to the forest floor, cold, uncaring, it fell. It landed at her feet next to her.
The ghouls circled her, their rasping breath forming a horrific chorus, each member of the ghoulish pack playing its own small role, its notes in that last moment, all things sharp, jagged.
As her vision faded, the last thing Aminah saw were those glowing, yellow eyes, cold fires burning. They were closer, closer, they consumed her.
Her last word would fall unheard and ignored. "Maaf…"
The ghoul that spoke lowered itself, leaning into Aminah, the proximity terrifying and, surprisingly, it felt oddly intimate, there, then and there alone, there it was.
"Indah," the ghoul spoke. And with that single word, spoken into her ear, into that most intimate part of her soul, the coldness filled the gap, filling every hole, complete.
The ghoul began to consume the rest of her, ripping pieces off of her, leaving little for others; the act it did for some unknown need. A deep desire, ancient, consuming and terrible, driving all of his being.
Others followed, until nothing remained, and so came some kind of horrible new quiet and all new blackness, only cold things that seemed like final rest to some unknown tomb, unknown burial place, unseen and uncared for.
Aminah felt the cold wet soil upon what skin she had left. It was the cold, wet soil, the dark of deep, and finally deep enough to never wake and never dream, all new blackness.
There was a pain unlike the ones she had only moments ago. The skin she no longer possessed had a cruel imitation, cold air upon that emptiness felt sharp and complete, and the tearing kept happening to the shell she now inhabited, though this shell felt very distant to her.
But in the black, after all of it had happened, and after the pain had passed through her, came new and final thoughts. In those, thoughts, there had also come something like a dream; one that never left, that now she called, forever home.
She saw her mother in a simple home with walls and chairs; there was water there too, food to be made with smiles all in some quiet place beyond death.
The face of her mother gave a final wave, and it filled Aminah with such joy that, that too would be beyond death, beyond everything and anything of that dark.
Aminah was pulled, suddenly. Not the physical pulling she'd endured just moments before, but an unseen, an inner motion. She saw that place grow small and far and fade away.
With that dream broken, gone from view now; the forest floor once more beneath her torn skin, Aminah grew cold. She saw the ghouls looking upon her. She wanted only the dreams of simple and final, the smiles of a loving place and home, safe, calm, real.
And now, she began to rise. It was not she, not fully, something inside driving all this. But rise she did. The sounds returned as well. Sounds that filled that once hateful and painful cacophony with new, all new terror.
With no words she rose. The dream broken to pieces. With all sounds the ghoul began, now her body turned to the task and duty of it. Aminah only knew what her home looked like. That little cabin filled with smiles; that was her home.
She gave herself a promise, now beyond any real hope of completion or fulfillment, but something close to that now fueled all the pain that came into her soul, her thoughts. She'd give herself those simple things back.
But it was clear Aminah's time was now over, even beyond whatever this existence may now become. What thoughts remained would only come for as long as this would take to transform, that much had been said, in her last and hateful words.
One of the ghouls spoke to Aminah, her once brother. It did that through all manner of inhuman contortion and cruel sounds; but she now felt and knew those words more directly, she now felt his love; it had transformed into pain.