Part 1: That Creepy Village - Horror Story

In this article, I will recount the unsettling events that began at the start of this summer and are still ongoing. I recommend that only those aged 21 and over read this, as the content may be distressing. I’ve become accustomed to seeing myself as someone else in the mirror or finding my brother, who lives 900 kilometers away, in the same house. Lighting a cigarette, I begin my story.

Introducing My Family

To introduce myself, I have one brother three years younger than me. My father is a retired worker, and my mother is a housewife. We are a simple family and mean no harm to anyone. Last year, I graduated from university and prepared for the KPSS (Public Personnel Selection Exam) at my family’s home—the events I will describe started at the beginning of this summer and are still ongoing.

The Catalyst for Disturbance

The catalyst for these events was my younger uncle. I have two uncles; one has been living abroad for a long time and returns to Turkey every four or five years. I am not very close to him. The other, who is around 32-33 years old, is the uncle I share a good relationship with. He used to live with my grandmother after my grandfather passed away. Although he seemed disinterested in marriage, societal and family pressures eventually compelled him to tie the knot.

My grandmother began searching for a bride for him, specifically looking for someone from a small rural area. By this time, my uncle had already outgrown the dating age; it was no longer appropriate for him to be seen in cafes with girls. The family wanted him to get married and settle down. Eventually, my grandmother discovered a suitable girl from a small village named <anonymous> located to the north of <anonymous>. The village has about 9-10 households and is approximately an hour and a half away from our city.

The Journey Begins

As a result, my grandmother, my uncle, my mother, and I set off for the village to ask for the girl’s hand in marriage. I was driving the car. After a long time on the main road, my uncle said we needed to turn right. There were no signs, and he was referring to a paper he had. I turned right and drove along a dirt road for a while until we entered a wooded area. The car was shaking, but there was nothing we could do.

I thought to myself that I wished this whole situation would end soon so I could go home. These thoughts consumed me as we finally arrived at the strange, desolate village of <anonymous>. If I were to describe my first impressions of the village, it was odd that even though it was late afternoon, there was no one outside. There were only about 9-10 houses, all with their curtains drawn.

Arrival at the Eerie Village

The houses were quite old, lacking antennas or solar panels on the roofs. There were no visible cars. What kind of village was this? It felt like a place stuck 500 years in the past. The strangest and most noticeable thing was the absence of a mosque in the village. I had never seen a village without a mosque in my life. I turned to my uncle and asked, "Are you sure this is a Muslim village?" He replied, "Don't be silly. We don’t have Armenians around here." I dropped the subject and began observing my surroundings.

To my horror, there was no sign of life—no cats, no dogs. I was genuinely starting to lose my mind, and I noticed my grandmother also appeared surprised. I turned to my uncle and asked which house was the girl’s. He said he didn’t know and suggested we knock on a nearby door to ask. He knocked, and a small child answered.

Searching for the Bride

“Where is Basri from the Karahasan family?” my uncle asked. The child stared at us blankly, not saying a word. I intervened, saying, “Can you call your father?” Still, there was no response from the child. At that moment, a woman in a scarf appeared behind him and gestured for us to wait a moment, remaining silent. After they went inside, a man in his 50s came out. My uncle greeted him, saying, “Peace be upon you.” The man didn’t respond to the greeting.

“Who are you looking for?” he asked. My uncle looked at me, appearing frustrated by the man’s behavior, and I shrugged as if to say, “Forget it.” My uncle said we were looking for the Karahasan family’s Basri, and the man pointed to the third house from the end before closing the door. The village was odd, but the people were even stranger. My uncle and I walked to the house and knocked on the door.

The Strange Encounter

A girl in a scarf opened it, and I thought all the women in this village must dress like this. I found it odd and wondered if they always wore scarves at home. Interestingly, the man I assumed was her father came over, and without us saying anything, he said, “Please, come in.” It seemed like they were expecting us. We entered a small two-room house, but there was no toilet or bathroom in sight. Many villages lack those, but I found it surprising that this house didn't even have a kitchen.

There was just one room at the entrance, and a door leading to another room. Nothing else was visible. We stepped into the back room, where there were cushions on the floor, and I noticed the head of a wild boar hanging on the wall. Wasn’t that forbidden? I was beginning to feel uneasy about all the oddities, but I continued to sit quietly. A regular yellow bulb was dangling from the ceiling, so I thought at least they had electricity.

The Confusion of the House

However, I wondered why there was no television or anything inside the house. I lost myself in thought, trying to make sense of the sparse furnishings—just a rug, a light bulb, a wild boar head on the wall, and the cushions. That was all that existed in that room. We sat on the cushions, and there was a woman standing there, presumably the girl’s mother, also dressed in a scarf. Strangely, the girl we had come to ask for was also standing and not sitting down.

As we sat there, the atmosphere grew heavy with silence. My uncle attempted to break the ice by engaging the girl in conversation, but his efforts were met with blank stares. It was clear that the girl’s family was not keen on communicating. The tension was palpable, making me feel increasingly uneasy.

Unexpected Revelations

Suddenly, the door swung open, and an elderly man entered the room. He had a stern expression that sent chills down my spine. “Who are you?” he demanded, fixing his gaze on us. My uncle, taken aback, stammered as he tried to explain our purpose. The man listened intently, but I could sense that he was not convinced.

My heart raced as I wondered what would happen next. Would we be allowed to leave this eerie place, or were we in over our heads? The air was thick with uncertainty, and the silence that followed felt suffocating.

After what felt like an eternity, the elderly man nodded slowly. “You may stay for a while, but do not overstay your welcome.” With that, he turned and left the room, leaving us in a state of bewilderment. I exchanged glances with my uncle and mother, each of us grappling with our thoughts.

A Twist of Fate

The girl’s mother offered us tea, and we accepted, hoping to ease the tension. As we sat there sipping our drinks, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched. Every creak of the old house, every rustle of fabric, amplified my anxiety. I caught a glimpse of the girl, who was sitting silently across from me. Her eyes were wide, filled with a mixture of fear and resignation.

What was her life like in this village? Was she as trapped as we felt? As the evening wore on, the dim light of the room seemed to grow darker. Shadows danced along the walls, and I found myself jumping at every sound. I couldn’t help but think about the horror stories I had heard as a child. What if this creepy village was a setting for one of those tales?

The Sense of Dread

My mind raced with terrifying images, and I felt my heart race as fear gripped me. Suddenly, the door swung open again, and the elderly man returned. “It’s time to talk,” he said sternly. We followed him into another room, where a larger group of people awaited.

They sat in silence, their eyes fixed on us. I felt a chill run down my spine. “Why are you here?” the man asked, his voice heavy with authority. My uncle tried to explain our intentions once more, but the atmosphere had changed. It was no longer friendly; it felt hostile.

I felt trapped, and the weight of their gaze was suffocating. I glanced at my uncle, hoping he would say something to ease the tension, but he seemed just as overwhelmed as I was.

Next part - Part 2: That Creepy Village