By Fad –
I’ve heard horror stories about chin oil, but I never thought I’d fall victim to its magic myself. It all started when I received a phone call from an old friend, Arif.
He asked for help to take care of his house for a week because he had to work abroad. Without much question, I agreed. After all, Arif’s house is located in a quiet area on the outskirts of town, perfect for me to relax and write.
The first day at home seemed normal. The house is clean, quite modern, but full of old things in the living room, probably Arif’s favorite antique collection.
On a wooden shelf in one corner, I noticed a small bottle that looked odd.
The glass bottle contained a thick black liquid, with a red cloth tied around the lid. I almost touched it, but my little heart forbade it. For some reason, the bottle gave me a bad taste.
That night, I began to feel something strange. A strong smell like burning hair filled the room. I got out of bed, looking for the source of the smell. As I stepped into the living room, I heard a soft sound, like a woman’s voice crying. The voice seemed to come from the direction of the small bottle in the corner of the shelf.
I approached the bottle cautiously. The closer I got to the bottle, the louder the sound of crying, and along with the crying, the fishy and musty smell pierced my nose.
“Who’s there?” I asked, trying to work up my courage. There was no answer, only the sound of crying that turned into a hoarse whisper, “You shouldn’t be here…”
I gasped. My heart was beating fast. My hand moved on its own, trying to touch the bottle.
However, just as my fingers were about to touch the glass surface, a strong gust of wind blew out of nowhere, extinguishing all the lights in the house and making it dark.
As I tried to find the light switch with shaking hands, I felt something behind me. His breath felt warm on my neck. “Go away,” he whispered in a voice full of revenge.
I didn’t have time to turn around because I suddenly felt like I was being roughly pushed to the floor. My head hit and my vision started to blur. Before I lost consciousness, I managed to see the shadow of a woman in a black robe, with long hair covering her face, standing in the corner of the shelf.
I woke up on the floor with a heavy chest. The sun had risen, but I felt no relief. When I woke up, I noticed something strange on my body. My skin felt sticky, like it was oily and the fishy smell still lingered. In the mirror, I saw my face pale, with dark circles under the eyes. However, what surprised me the most, my lips were bleeding thick black.
I tried to call Arif, but his phone was switched off. I left the house to look for help, but my steps were heavy, as if something was holding me back.
The people in the area looked at me with a look of fear on their faces. Some old people mumbled something in a language I didn’t understand, but I managed to catch the words ‘santau’ and ‘chin oil.’
As night fell, my nightmares began. I was trapped in an endless dark space. The black robed woman appeared in front of me, this time with a face full of burns. His eyes were hollow black, and his smile grinned, revealing sharp teeth like broken glass.
He came closer, and I couldn’t move.
“You took something that didn’t belong to you,” he said, his pitch black hand pointing towards my chest. “You will feel what I feel which is never ending pain.”
When I woke up, I found my body covered in black bruises, as if I had been beaten all night. The smell of fish and oil grew stronger, and I heard the whispers endlessly. Every time I try to leave the house, my legs seem unable to step. I was surrounded, locked in a space inhabited only by silence and fear.
I finally found an old shaman after a neighbor dared to help me.
The shaman looked at me for a long time before saying, “You’ve been hit. This chin oil is used for revenge. Someone wants you to suffer.”
I don’t know who sent this magic to me or why. However, I had to follow the painful recovery ritual for three nights in a row.
On the last night, the shaman told me to take a small bottle from the shelf to the nearest river and throw it away without looking back.
As the bottle sank into the rushing current, I heard a long scream, like the cry of a woman finally freed from shackles. After that, my body felt light, but my little heart knew that I had touched something dark, and it would never forget me.