The Angkara Murka
Book of Pon - Lakuning Moon
Soemantri Soekrasana stared fixedly at Wardhani. "Your brother, your sister Kinanti died by suicide, didn't she?" ask Soemantri Soekrasana.
Wardhani looked at her parents as if asking for permission. He looked back at the young man, "Yes, mas. So is the woman who always shows up in the well near the bathroom behind the house Kinanti Mbak? I never managed to see his face" Wardhani said.
Soemantri Soekrasana nodded. Seeing this the father rubbed his face while the mother returned a mouthful. It's not easy to go back to remembering that painful past. Moreover, accept the fact that the figure of people who have died long ago was not really lost, even still around them.
Wardhani suddenly bought his eyes back to remember something, "But mas Soemantri, lately, the supernatural creatures are increasingly clearly showing themselves. They often appear in whole form, no longer in shadow."
Soemantri Soekrasana was aware of what Wardhani was thinking. Then he closed both his eyes. "Don't be afraid, Wardhani. He was with me," suddenly he said to Wardhani.
Wardhani is back. Face stiffened. Suddenly he saw the red kuntilanak figure again. The ghastly ghostly figure wrapped both of his pale hands around Soemantri Soekrasana's neck. The red woman whispered something into Soemantri Soekrasana's ear while her pair of eyes continued to drip blood.
...ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ...
Soemantri Soekrasana decided to reveal everything that had happened in this hamlet to this small family. But he still hides the story of Kinanti and her lover in detail, including that the spirit clings to the father's body, and just explain that there was a great offense going on in this hamlet twenty years ago so that the protective power of the hamlet is dilapidated.
Semantri Soekrasana decided to respect the sadness of the small family and did not want them to assume that the source of this chaos was indeed from their own family, exactly the same as what the citizens had been echoing all along. For the young shaman, enough of this family is used as gossip material so far, no need to add it again.
Wardhani, according to Soemantri Soekrasana is a person in this hamlet who has the talent and ability to see the power and supernatural creatures. This hamlet is getting weaker in strength because the elders who still perform rituals in the four sacred places are only those who survived the plague, twenty years ago.
The father, nodding to hear Soemantri Soekrasana's explanation. "There's exactly one, son Soemantri. His name is Mbah Darmo. He was already very old, maybe more than a hundred years old," said the father later.
This explanation arises because it is clear that only one sepuh is still left in this hamlet. That way, Mbah Darmo is the figure to be addressed.
Funnily enough, in response to his father's words, Soemantri Soekrasana even looked at the two beautiful eyes of Wardhani. The one being stared at takes a fraction of a second to understand its meaning. Wardhani then shook his head hard. "No, mas. There's no way I am," he said.
Not long after, on the same night, Wednesday Pon, at nine o'clock in the evening, Mbah Darmo stooped to cut open the blanket of fog that floated in the darkness of the night Dusun Pon. He carried flowers in a small bamboo woven bag and a water-filled earthen jug from seven different water sources. From this evening he had been around the hamlet reciting mantras in Javanese, spreading seven flowers and splashing water from the well in his house which had also been winnowed.
Today he felt too tired. His bones collide, refusing to cooperate. His nerves were no longer willing to listen and carry out the commands of his brain. However, this hamlet only has it alone. If there are people who are still able to have the ability to see and feel the stealth movements of dogs in the fields behind the frangipani tree, the, or the ghost figure of grandfathers behind and beside the Mak Romlah stall, or three pocongs that often appear behind the house of Mr. Teacher Johan. That person may replace his job.
These demonic creatures are waiting for him to fail to perform the ritual every Wednesday Pon so that they can escape from the thin curtain of dimensions, like twenty years ago, into the human world, sipping fear, and, tasting human souls and trapping them in their world.
The elder must be able to complete his work, as powerful as he can, not caring for it once or twice more before he breathes it out for the last time. Along his legs he can still drag, and his body can still be supported by a pair of legs that drag it.
Mbah Darmo almost finished his ritual to splash water and cast a spell on a wooden stump beside the river when he was surprised to see the ghostly figure of Kinanti lying on the ground. His hair was messy, rough like a headscarf and reddish because it was exposed to the ground that was indeed red. His body was clad in a smelly white shirt.
The figure looked at Mbah Darmo with a gaze that was difficult to interpret. However, there was clearly a variety of confusion and confusion behind his dead eyeballs.
"Why did you get here, Kinanti? What makes you here?" mbah Darmo said. Mbah Darmo was shocked. The shock was too great for his old heart. It was not his pair of legs that betrayed Mbah Darmo, but this shocking state that made his heart finally give up and stop beating.
Mbah Darmo, keeper of the last four sacred sites of Pon Hamlet, died on Wednesday night before completing his duties. This becomes a big question for Mbah Darmo himself if he is still breathing. How could Kinanti, the ghostly figure that should be looming on the sidelines of the magical realm and the border with the real world, be present in this place with its most perfect form? Not only that, Kinanti specifically appeared before the elder in the sacred territory that should be the last place
ritual completed. It was as if Kinanti was deliberately present there to disturb and undo the Mbah Darmo ritual.
Either the mysterious powers that help these spirits and supernatural entities strengthen, or there is another phenomenon that moves them so swiftly to appear into the world at will as if there were no transverse aral.
At that time, ghosts, demons, genies, and other supernatural beings tore through the layers between the worlds, breaking into the last defenses of Pon Hamlet on the night of the moon's funeral, entering freely into the human world. They float in the air, creep on the ground, slip between grains of rice in rice fields or float on the surface of river water.