Author: koopseni

The Prison Witch | Doctor, by Naomi Chear

‘You’ fainted underneath a blossom tree,
‘You’ were covered with fresh blood,
‘You’ are my family,
‘You’ are my beloved brother,
To revive ‘You’,
‘I’ had to picked up the needling instruments to feed ‘You’ with selected human parts and organs with my wicked hands.

The Nine Needles of needling instruments in acupuncture
The 1st needle
70 years old man who deserve to be blind forever,
He, who stare at me with a lustful eyes, I use the needle to poke into his eyes, Feeding ‘You’ with his eyes to wake ‘You’ up is my pleasure.

The 2nd needle
59 years old lady who deserve to seal her lip,
She, who spread the rumors like a teleport,
I use the needle to sew her lip,
Feeding ‘You’ with her lip gives me hope.

The 3rd needle
30 years old man who deserve to lose his limbs,
He, the insane who abuses his wife,
I use the needle to put him into sleep, chopping off his limbs,
Feeding ‘You’ with his limbs makes me one step closer to ‘You’.

The 4th needle
26 years old who deserve to be skinless,
She, the flirty prostitute,
I use the needle to poke and peel off her smooth skins,
Feeding ‘You’ with her skins, makes the blossom tree bloom again after 2 decades.

The 5th needle
90 years old man,
He, a lonely man lives with sorrowness,
He, knew my dad inherited wicked acupuncture to me,
He begged me to take his emptiness to wake ‘You’ up,
I use the needle to poke into his flawless heart,
Feeding ‘You’ with his loving heart,
‘Your’ red eye tearing with blood.

The 6th needle
A month old baby,
He, was abandon,
He, with a sweet smile covering in a towel,
‘You’ hide the needle quietly,
‘I’ will never let ‘You’ stop me from wicked rituals,
I use the needle to cut through his throat,
Feeding ‘You’ with his throat,
‘You’ whisper ‘누나’,

The 7th & 8th needle
9 years old twins,
They, who lives in a hatred life,
I use the needle to poke and scrap out all their organs in the garage,
‘You’ hear them cry,
Feeding ‘You’ with their organs,
Enlighten my heart.

The 9th needle,
She, your beloved childhood friend,
The Eclipse Night
Looking up to the moon,
‘I’ have killed 8 innocence with 8 needles,
In the dark, ‘You’ walk towards me,
Begging me with red tears to stop reviving ‘You’
To release her,
My heart was broken in pieces,
The deepest sorrow is living with emptiness,
No words are enough to express the pain of my soul,
‘I’ use the 9th needle to take my broken heart out for ‘You’
Now, take my pieces,
‘I’ will do all things to have ‘You’ back into my arms,
Reviving ‘You’, 현, with ‘Nine Needles’ is my greatest pleasure,
Let the red tears lives under the light,
Let the red hands lives under the darkness.

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What Lurks in the Shadows, by Kat

“The body was pitch black with no face. I couldn’t comprehend how long the limbs were. I wasn’t imagining anything. It was moving. We made “eye” contact;  I looked at it, It looked at me. I couldn’t react. I froze for a few minutes. I quickly picked up my pace to catch up with my friends. For the rest of the night, my lips were tight shut. I couldn’t even speak of the spine-chilling experience to anyone.” 

Inspired by the story of my lecturer’s encounter with the ghost after returning from her late-night classes. Hantu Galah, also known as the Tall Ghost that originates from Malay and orang Asli folklore. It is described to be a humanoid faceless figure with spindly tree-like limbs and large in size. The Hantu Galah is so tall its head is said to sweep the clouds and the upper body can’t be seen. 

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PontiEnak–Perfume for the Paranormal, by Shannon Chan

This spoopy comic is based on the superstition that every South East Asian has definitely heard growing up: ignore strange, foul, or floral smells, especially when you’re alone at night. But with a little, funny twist.

I like to imagine that ghosts and demons that walk (or float) this Earth have a little community of their own and live…..just like us, which includes, maybe, sometimes having to wear perfume.

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Fairy Godmother, by matroskyy

You’ve all heard the tales, probably. The tales of a fairy godmother are no stranger to popular culture. However, this is not your usual tales. 

Her powers grow beyond control and swallowed her heart until there was nothing but despair. 

Now she seeks to restore her light, by ripping the children’s heart. 

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The Penny Lady, by Jonathan Jayasuria

Ex-libris derives from the Latin translation which means “from the library of” used as an inscription on a bookplate to show the name of the book’s owner, (Jonathan Jayasuria) in this case, the grim tale of THE PENNY LADY. This creepy book unfolds the tale of The Penny Lady, who is set loose from her gothic ruins every Christmas day, disguised as an old poor lady who roams every city, town & street, looking for a penny. It is said that if you do not give her what she wants, you might just lose what you have. So, when you see an old woman nearby, don’t be selfish…

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Morana, by Evil Birdy

Morana is a Slavic pagan goddess associated with death, rebirth and the changing of seasons. In the old myths she would die at the end of every winter and her death would signal the beginning of spring. Her Greek counterpart is Hecate, so she is often also associated with witchcraft. In some slavic countries there is a tradition that lasted to this day, the burning or drowning  of Morana effigy. Usually little children would gather around to create the effigy, then they would carry it to the local body of water while singing traditional songs. They would either drown the effigy or they would burn it and that would mark the winters end.

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A Tribute to Vampiria, by ashzen

trapped in the bloody narrative till the end, 
all they ever drink needs bled,
supposedly immortal, supposedly pale,
supposedly consuming only red
blood sucking vampiria, they.  

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Pontianak, by Byeoloved

I had no schooling in romance
or of life’s finer ways
for mine was but a rover’s stance.
I sought no lover’s gaze
or arms in which I’d lead the dance
‘neath heaven’s guiding rays.

But as I sheltered from that night
in hope I might restore
my spirits to their former height
a shape came to the door;
a beauty of such pure delight
I had not known before

She shimmered in her silken dress,
her eyes lit up the room
and though I felt a vague distress
my form would soon assume
a joyous glow – this souceress
spun threads upon her loom.

In golden threads my soul was bound,
her force did not relent
Her raven locks fell to the ground
as over me she bent
but from the night I heard the sound;
a sorrowful lament.

-Nick Baker

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Tasik Chini, by Wan Aqmar Zulkifli

On this artwork, it show a Tasik Chini. Based on folklore, a large dragon known as Naga Seri Gumum, is said to inhabit Lake Chini and the story is also displayed on a large sign placed at Lake Chini Resort to be read by tourists who come there. According to the story of the elders, once upon a time, a group of Orang Asli of the Jakun tribe came to the thick forest area, then explored and cleared the land there for farming.

One day, when the Orang Asli group was gathering to cultivate, a woman with a cane suddenly appeared and told, the place was hers and they had to ask permission before exploring it. However, the woman finally allowed them to clean the area after Tok Batin apologized and to strengthen her claim, the woman brandished her cane in the middle of the explored area while warning not to pull it out before she disappeared. The group continued to cultivate until suddenly they were disturbed by barking dogs at the edge of the cleared area.

One of them decided to find the cause and was shocked to find that the barking sound came from a large old ebony stick. Then he threw his tugal (a sharp stick to make a planting hole) towards the stick and was surprised to see blood squirting out of the ebony. Trembling he kept running and told the strange thing to his friend, but his friend did not believe him.

At that time also black clouds enveloped the space, followed by thunder and lightning before heavy rain. The group of Orang Asli split up as they ran for cover and in a state of confusion, one of them pulled out the stick that the woman had cut. At that moment, water squirted out of the hole, the earth began to shake and submerged the area that had been cleaned and the rainwater reservoir became a lake known as Lake Chini.

Local folk tales say that the wood is the incarnation of a dragon known as Naga Sri Gumum and the grooves around it are traces of the Orang Asli route when they tried to save themselves. The story of the legend has been the talk of the community in the past until now, even though Tasik Chini covers an area of 12,565 hectares, including the surrounding forest area, it has undergone a development process to become an interesting recreational place. The Tasik Chini area has 12 seas around it, namely Laut Gumum, Pulau Balai, Chenahan, Tanjung Jerangkung, Genting Teratai, Mempitih, Kenawar, Serodong, Melai, Batu Busuk, Labuh and Jemberau.

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Hantu Air, by Nana Shaa

Imagine being a kid and reading folklore tales about Sungai Sembilang for the first time. How a woman named Suri was doomed to be an ugly form of mutant fish called Sembilang and how her skin transformed into slime and mud-like texture. How her mouth stretched and birthed tentacles. She was cursed because she ate the forbidden fish in the magical river in Jeram area, Selangor. How did the tales begin and what started it? Nobody knows. The story was already around when I was rather young. It started this distorted perspective of mine towards the said Sembilang. Weird enough, I always loved eating it but the more I see it, the more it resembles a humanoid figure: its bulging eyes, its pronounced mouth and tentacle-like moustache. It indeed started this horror narrative inside my young mind.

Now, imagine being a kid and your dad warned you to not get stung by it. You went fishing with your dad and he decided to play you around with the thought of your own fear. “Your mouth will grow tentacles if you get bitten!” , he teases. It was Sembilang season and I became really wary of it. We were in the boat, waiting for our bait to be eaten and all of a sudden, I got this pit inside my stomach, my first experience of anxiety. And my fear only grew bigger from there.

Then, imagine being a kid and watching a local movie back in the 90s, where a fisherman got stung in the middle of the river. His mouth turned to gaping holes and tentacles grew out of it. Blood dripped down his face as he lost oxygen to breathe and slowly his face carved itself to create fins and horns. Slowly, his face morphed into this organic unknown fish and he was flapping around helplessly inside the boat, breathless. I remember my parents yelled at me for even watching it.

Imagine being in your 20’s and still traumatized by it. “It’s just folklore! Don’t be so serious about it!” They said, laugh in your own demeanor. Indeed the story exists to warn kids not to be immoral, but legends are legends and with enough time, you will believe it into existence. After all, fear comes from within. I myself did not understand as well how once you are scared of something. it became all you think about. Eventually, that is all you’ll be seeing in the real world.

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