Prepared by: Mohamad Imran Zamberi
Executive Officer 4
Department of Food Technology, Fakulti Sains dan Teknologi Makanan, UPM

That night, I never expected things to turn into something that would haunt me to this day. At first, everything seemed normal—just a night run with the gang, a routine deeply ingrained in my life. We loved changing locations: sometimes Bukit Tunku, sometimes Putrajaya, and that night, we chose Universiti Putra Malaysia (UPM).

Because it was a bit of a drive from my house and we usually waited for everyone to arrive before starting, the run began late, around 10:00 or 10:30 PM. There were five of us, all used to the 10-kilometer distance. Physically, there was nothing to worry about. But the atmosphere… the atmosphere at UPM at night is not something to be taken lightly.

The area is vast—too vast to be that silent. The streetlights were a dim yellow, not the bright kind that gives you a sense of security. The light seemed to drown before it could even touch the ground. Old buildings stood stiffly on either side, dilapidated colleges with faded walls and pitch-black windows devoid of any sign of life. There was almost no wind. The silence wasn't just quiet… it was pressing, as if something was waiting in the shadows.

I put on my earbuds, turned on my music, and started running. My stride was stable, breathing controlled, pace around 4:50. When I run, I usually get lost in my own rhythm. The outside world disappears, leaving only me, the road, and the sound of my heartbeat.

 

As usual, we began to split up. One by one, the others fell back according to their own pace. Being at the front, I eventually stopped at a junction to wait for the rest.

A few minutes later, someone emerged from the dark.

Omar.

My own cousin.

He approached slowly; his pace wasn't hurried. When he reached me, he stopped… and remained silent. No voice, no reaction. His head was slightly bowed, his face blurred in the weak yellow light.

I asked, “Are you okay?

No answer.

It wasn't just that he didn't answer; it was as if my question didn't even exist.

I tried to convince myself he was just exhausted. So, I invited him to continue running. He followed, but throughout our movement… he remained deathly silent.

I opened my running app to check the route. There was a shortcut that looked like it would lead back to the mosque area. Even though the road ahead looked dark and unfamiliar, I trusted the map. Without much thought, I pressed on.

 

Initially, we passed through the residential college area. The dim yellow lights were still there. But the further we went, the more the light faded. The road grew narrow, and the shadows became longer… more alive.

We entered an area of old houses. The houses had shape, but no soul. Doors were tightly shut, windows were black like empty sockets. No sound of insects, no wind, nothing. It was as if the area wasn't just abandoned—it was forgotten.

My pace began to slow.

In my chest, a feeling began to crawl. Cold. Heavy.

I looked back.

Omar was still there.

But he was too quiet.

No sound of footsteps.

No clear shadow.

Just a figure… following me without a sound.

I stopped.

“I think we should wait for the others.”

Silence.

He just stood there.

Unmoving.

Unresponsive.

And at that moment… my hair stood on end. Not because of the wind. Not because of the night chill. But because of something I couldn't see… but I could feel.

I forced myself to move again, trying to get out of that area as fast as possible. But before I could get far…

I heard it.

A sound.

A deep, heavy growl, as if coming from the chest of something non-human.

Even with earbuds in, the sound was clear. Too close.

I ripped my earbuds out.

Silence.

I turned around.

Empty.

Omar… was gone.

Not gone slowly.

But gone as if erased.

As if from the start… he wasn't Omar.

My heart leaped. I didn't think anymore. I only knew one thing: I had to get out of there.

I turned back and bolted.

My run this time wasn't a normal run. Every step was fueled by terror. My breathing was no longer steady. My chest felt tight, but my legs kept moving, as if forced by something stronger than myself.

The sweat pouring off me felt icy, sticking to my skin like frost. With every step, I could feel it…

I was not alone.

There was something behind me.

Close.

Very close.

I didn't dare look back. But that presence… was too vivid to ignore.

I kept running.

Until finally, I was forced to stop. My breath was nearly gone. My head was spinning. In a semi-conscious state, I slowly turned around.

And at that moment…

I saw it.

On that dark road, a figure was floating.

Long, disheveled hair, swaying aimlessly. The body was pale—too pale, almost absorbing the light. Its movement was slow, like flapping in windless air.

And that sound…

The sound of flapping wings.

Interspersed with that same growl.

A Langsuir.

The thing didn't move like a human. It wasn't bound to the ground. It… existed in the wrong space.

I froze.

For a few seconds, I couldn't move.

Then, with trembling hands, I took out my phone. I recorded. Not because I was brave, but because I knew if I made it out alive, I needed something to convince myself this wasn't a dream.

In the recording, my breathing is loud. Gasping. And in the background…

The sound was still there.

The creature was still there.

Watching.

I turned and ran without looking back again.

I don’t know how long I ran. Time felt stretched, as if it wasn't moving. But finally… I saw light.

The first light of the night.

And as I stepped out of that dark zone, my body nearly collapsed. My legs were weak, my hands were shaking, and my mind was still left behind, in that place I should never have entered.

Since that night, I have never run there at night again.

Not because I’m afraid of the dark.

But because I know… in that darkness, there is something living.

Something that shouldn't be seen.

And maybe… that night, I was just lucky because it chose not to come any closer.

That night’s experience taught me that not every place is safe to explore, especially at the wrong time. Sometimes, that uneasy feeling is a warning we shouldn’t ignore.

Don’t rely solely on logic or technology, trust your instincts too. Most importantly, respect your surroundings, because there are things in this world, we may never understand… and sometimes, it’s better not to.

Date of Input: 10/04/2026 | Updated: 10/04/2026 | nurulizzah