This is an incident that supposedly happened long ago in my hometown. Even today, when people tell this story, it sends a chill down the listener's spine.
One night, very late, a man was walking home alone after returning from a distant place. There was no one around. Even the moonlight in the sky seemed dim. The only sounds were the chirping of night insects and the rustling of leaves in the wind.
As he walked, he reached an old river by the roadside. Tired and thirsty, he decided to wash his face.
There were a few old black-stone steps leading down to the water. Slowly, he began to descend them.
First step...
Second step...
Third step...
As he neared the water's edge, he felt that something was not quite right.
He lowered his head and looked.
And then...
There was a figure standing on the riverbank, facing the water.
At first, it looked like a person.
But in the next moment, a cold shiver ran through his entire body.
The figure's hair hung all the way down to its feet.
Its arms were unnaturally long—almost reaching the ground.
It did not move.
There wasn't even the sound of breathing.
It simply stood there, staring into the water.
The man could neither run nor scream. It was as if his legs had frozen in place.
A few moments passed...
But to him, they felt like hours.
Then a thought crossed his mind.
*"It hasn't seen me..."*
Without making a sound, he slowly began to back away.
One step...
Two steps...
Three steps...
His heart pounded as though it would burst out of his chest.
At last, he reached the top.
But then...
He made a mistake.
Driven by fear, he turned around for one last look.
There was nobody there.
The figure that had been standing by the water had vanished.
Instead of relief, his blood ran cold.
Because he had no idea where it had gone.
It wasn't on the opposite bank.
It wasn't on the road.
It wasn't in the water.
Then...
Where was it?
The very moment that thought entered his mind, he felt a cold breath behind his ear...
Very slowly...
Very close...
*"So... you saw me, didn't you?"*
He did not look back.
He ran for his life.
He reached home and told no one about what had happened.
But after that, on certain nights, he would wake up from sleep in terror.
Because every time, he had the same dream.
The riverbank.
The black-stone steps.
The figure standing by the water.
But each night, it came one step closer.
First, it was at the riverbank.
Then on the steps.
Then on the road.
Then in the courtyard of his house.
And finally...
One night, he woke up screaming.
His family rushed to him.
Trembling, he said only one thing:
*"Tonight it wasn't outside the door... it was standing beside my bed."*
He did not live much longer after that.
Even today, some elders remember the last words he spoke before he died:
*"What I saw that night wasn't a Yakshi... the problem was that she saw me."*
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— **Fatima Mohammed** —
