Horror And Mystery Stories
THE MYSTERIOUS WEDON GHOST

I have experienced a frightening event. I experienced it 30 years ago when I worked at PNP 8 Kayu Aro (now PT Nusantara 6), located in Kerinci Regency, Jambi Province.

At that time the company held a change of tea wading from a conventional system to a little modern, namely with WT (Withering Trough). I worked on the WT, and sometimes overtime until 22 or 23 p.m.

The distance from my home to where I work is about 2 km of travel and about half an hour if on foot. My co-worker who was near his house, Wagiman, if I was late until night, I always went home with him.

Once when Wagiman was ill, I worked only with the foreman. Since Wagiman did not work that day, I asked the foreman not to overtime until night. But the foreman forced me to work late until 10 p.m.

"For tonight sir, please allow me not to overtime! My house was far away and no friends came home, and it was dark anyway", my pity to the foreman.

"If the reason is dark, I will lend a flashlight, but tomorrow morning return!", urged the foreman.

"But sir..."

"But what? Afraid? Afraid what? A cowardly man? Udah, just overtime until 10 then bought rice wrap!", said the foreman half force.

I finally gave up overtime until 10 p.m. But in work I do not concentrate on work, all I think about is how to go home later. If usually at any time I go home there is a friend, Wagiman, while tonight itself. From the factory to my home is not just one road, but there are three roads that can be passed. But those three paths scared everything.

The east side road if you want to go home must pass through the Company Hospital. In the courtyard of the hospital, right on the side of the road there is a Dutch cemetery. People say, anyone who passes there at night must be pelted with sand, no matter who. If I go by the road to the west, I have to go through a public cemetery. Wow this is even more so. The road is usually taken through the middle way, if there is a friend anyway no problem even though the night, but this is alone. The problem is that this middle path must pass through a large rock in the middle of the road.

The Dutch did not dare to disturb the large rocks on the road, so the Dutch when making the garden path had to dodge the stone. It is said that he said, again people said, the stone there is a waiting, so many people often see the appearance around the stone. He said again, sometimes resembling a large dog, sometimes resembling a tiger, sometimes also resembling a beautiful woman, anyway serem lah. Plus near there grew a large tree that was hundreds of years old, people call it Aro Wood. That is why the garden is called PNP 8 Kayu Aro, he said because there is a tree. I don't know, I wasn't thinking about the name of the garden, just thinking about how to go home later.

"Heh, why dream? Hayo quickly finish let's go home quickly!", the foreman surprised me who was focusing on thinking home.

"Already, now eat first, later at 9 to go home!", said the foreman consoled me.

"At 9 pm too, it's dark too!", I replied inwardly (when there was no PLN, so all along the way there was only pitch black and firefly lights).

At 9pm work is suspended to be resumed tomorrow. But before going home, work tools must be cleaned first. At 10 o'clock he also returned home.

"Ah is okay, it still seems the road, the important thing is not to stumble stone!", replied the foreman indifferently.

Though I expected the foreman to say gini, "Already, because the flashlight has run out of battery and the day is already night, you do not have to go home, just sleep in my house!". But it turned out that the invitation was not spoken at all. And if I ask to stay at the foreman's house, I'm ashamed too.

On the way home, my heart felt bad. Flashlight if turned on for one minute only the light is getting dim to die, maybe the battery is soaked, forced only intermittently to turn it on. The choice eventually fell on a middle path that passed through a large stone and aro wood tree. About less than 100 meters up on the big rock in the middle of the road, suddenly the flashlight died completely, until I hit the palm also remained tight, not wanting to live.

And what those people are talking about is proven. From a distance in the middle of the tea garden, not just above or near the rock, there was a white figure was moving and seemed to be getting closer to me. Said the guy's name was Wedon. Wedon's the most terrible kind of ghost. Wedon is getting higher and higher, and if we spit, we can blister like boiling water, he said.

Without thinking long I turned right again, the goal was to go straight to the house of the foreman and ride a ride in his house, rather than mlonyoh (blister) got spit Wedon. But not far away I left the wedon suddenly there was a fire light that was also getting closer to me. People say that the fire is a kind of ghost Kemangmang or Lampor, there are also those who call it Banaspati. Finally I just resigned to what was going to happen while shivering and his heart was pounding erratically.

O Allah, if it is my destiny to die at the hands of Vedon or Kemangmang, I will. I immediately closed my eyes while waiting for what would happen.

"He... Ngopo Mun?"

I was surprised there was no sound reprimanding me. It turned out that Mbah Bawon who had just returned from work while carrying a gunny sack torch wrapped around a piece of wood and dipped in dirty oil liquid. Mbah Bawon is home further from my home. If he comes home from work, he must have passed my house. Every night he always brings "kemangmang" (sackbells).

"Anu Mbah's... The key to my house fell somewhere. I was looking for nothing to see", I answered reasoned.

"Yes, find the key yourself! Mbah went home first" said Mbah Bawon as he left me.

"Change, wait, Mbah! My flashlight is dead, the key is sought tomorrow!", I shouted while chasing Mbah Bawon who was not so far away.

I walked beside Mbah Bawon while glancing at Wedon earlier, it turned out that there was still the Wedon there. The longer the closer I got, the more I docked to Mbah Bawon. But the Vedon is not getting any higher, as people often rumored. Finally I safely arrived home without spit on Wedon or chewed Kemangmang.

I was curious, with determination I ventured to go to myself where the Wedon was tomorrow morning while leaving for work. Where the former Wedon stood overnight, there were only white granules like sugar strewn beneath the tea trees, there are also some torn plastic sacks placed under the tea tree and on top of the clump of tea leaves. To this day, I am still curious about it.