An Ending (Chapter Ten)
Image created using Meta AI on WhatsApp.
The night felt longer than usual. After Mr. Damar woke up in the hallway, the dormitory was completely silent. Only the faint ticking of the wall clock could be heard, adding to the eerie atmosphere.
Mr. Damar was still trembling. His body was cold, as if a part of him remained in the hallway. He looked at Aris, who lay limp. His nephew's face was pale, his lips dry, and occasionally his body shook as if he were having a nightmare.
Ustadz Rafi sat cross-legged near the bed, opening a small, worn book. His hands were trembling gently, but his face remained calm. He glanced briefly at Mr. Damar.
“Now you know how strong the pull from that place is. They’re not playing around. If you had wavered even slightly, Aris would have been gone.”
Mr. Damar wiped his face roughly, his breathing still ragged. “I almost… almost lost him, Ustadz. That image—his red eyes…” Mr. Damar trailed off, his throat dry.
Ustadz Rafi slowly closed his book and stared at the cracked mirror still hanging on the wall. The crack was now wider, and faint footsteps could be heard from behind it. Sometimes it sounded like a child running, sometimes like the shuffling of a sick person.
“The hallway is taking Aris further and further away,” Ustadz Rafi murmured softly.
Mr. Damar suddenly felt goosebumps. His chest tightened, as if someone was sitting on him. He tried to look away, but the cracked glass seemed to demand his attention.
And sure enough… a moment later, he saw something.
From behind the crack, a thin, pale hand appeared, feeling the glass surface from within. Its long fingers scraped against the surface, making a creaking sound… creaking sound… as if the glass might shatter at any moment.
“Uncle… I’m cold…” a soft voice was heard. Aris’s voice.
Mr. Damar suddenly stood up, almost approaching the glass, but Ustadz Rafi quickly grabbed his arm. "Don't! That's not Aris. The devil imitated him to weaken you."
In the next second, the voice turned hoarse, deep, and terrible. "Come in, Damar... come with us..."
The room lights flickered again. The cold wind was piercing, even though all the windows were tightly closed. There was a faint rancid smell, mixed with the aroma of hospital medicines.
Aris, who was lying down, suddenly screamed softly, his body convulsing. His voice called out, half conscious, half like someone else's voice speaking through him, "Uncle… hurry… help me.”
Mr. Damar panicked, shaking Aris' shoulder. "Kid! Get up, don't go!"
But suddenly, Aris' eyes opened. Jet black, without white eyeballs. He looked straight at his uncle, then smiled faintly—a smile that clearly did not belong to Aris.
“It's too late…” he whispered in a completely foreign voice.
Ustadz Rafi immediately recited a holy mantra. Aris's body immediately shook violently, then collapsed again, helpless. His breathing became weak again, but his face remained pale.
Mr. Damar sat down weakly, his face ashen. "Ustadz... I can't keep this up."
Ustadz Rafi stared at him deeply, then said slowly but firmly, "If you really want to save her, you must be ready to go deeper. Tonight is just the beginning. Tomorrow night... the passage will be completely open. And if you're not ready—neither of you will return."
The room fell silent again. The ticking of the clock was audible, accompanied by a feeling of dread pressing down on his chest.
Mr. Damar was silent for a long moment, his eyes staring at the cracked glass in the wall. This time, he could faintly see Aris' silhouette within. He stood still, his face blank. And from behind that silhouette... two glowing red eyes stared back.
Ustadz Rafi patted Mr. Damar's shoulder, who had been trembling in front of the dark passage. The stench of medicine and fishy smell still lingered.
Damar (trembling): “Ustadz… I… I’m not sure I can go back in there. That black shadow almost took me. If it hadn’t been for you coming, I might have—”
Ustadz Rafi (firmly but gently): “Damar, listen to me carefully. Your fear is natural. But remember… there’s one thing greater than your fear: your love for Aris. He’s your nephew. You can’t leave him alone in there.”
Damar lowered his head, tears falling. His breath was labored.
Damar: “But Ustadz… that creature has immense energy. Just its gaze is like hell. What if… if my soul is also imprisoned there?”
Ustadz Rafi (sighing, then looking straight into Damar’s eyes): “Death is God’s business, not that creature’s. Don’t let yourself succumb to its threats. Remember, Satan can only intimidate. They are weak before God’s word. You must have faith, Damar.”
Mr. Damar (whispering, still hesitant): "What if... what if I can't take it, Ustadz?"
Ustadz Rafi held Mr. Damar's hand tightly. The cold air of the hallway seemed to creep into the room.
Ustadz Rafi (more firmly): “Listen to me carefully! You go in again, but this time, don't hesitate. Don't be afraid. Whatever appears before you, look it in the face, don't back down. Remember your goal: Aris. For your nephew, for your family, you must be brave. Are you ready?”
Mr. Damar looked at the ustadz, his face pale, but his eyes were starting to harden. Mr. Damar (nodding, his voice trembling): “I'm ready, Ustadz. For Aris. I'm ready.”
Ustadz Rafi smiled faintly, then began to recite a prayer of protection. The sound of the holy verses echoed, igniting a little courage in Mr. Damar's heart. Mr. Damar slowly closed his eyes and returned to the dark hallway.
Mr. Damar stood still at the end of the hallway, which shouldn't be in a hospital. The cold air pierced his bones, like thousands of whispers pressing against his ears. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. What appeared were no longer the walls of a modern hospital, but rather shabby, moss-covered walls, an old chandelier swinging slowly, and the strong stench of blood.
“Oh my God… is this where the genie who resided in that old hospital…?” he whispered, his breath quickening.
From a distance, he saw vague figures dragging their feet. They limped, some faceless, others with half-destroyed bodies like victims of a car accident. Mr. Damar knew this hallway wasn’t for humans. But somehow, his indigo eyes revealed a path of their own.
Suddenly, a scream broke the silence. Aris!
The voice was unmistakable. Mr. Damar turned quickly, and sure enough—at the end of the hallway, Aris was being pulled by two tall, black figures, their eyes glowing red. Aris’s body struggled, his hands reaching out toward Mr. Damar.
“UNCLE…! HELP…!”
Without thinking, Mr. Damar ran. His heart felt like it was exploding, but every time he got closer, the hallway seemed to stretch on endlessly. Other ghostly figures crept toward him, trying to pull him by the legs.
“Bismillahirrahmanirrahim!” he shouted, reciting a prayer he had memorized.
In an instant, a white light flashed from the entrance of the tunnel. The black figures staggered backward. Aris fell to the ground, but his body was still enveloped in a dense shadow that tried to drag him back.
Mr. Damar grabbed Aris’s hand with all his might. “Get up, Ris! Fight! Don’t let them take you!”
Aris cried, his face pale. “I… I’m scared, uncle. They’ve been waiting for me for a long time.”
Suddenly, the largest black shadow approached. Its voice thundered like thousands of voices speaking at once: “THEY ENTER HERE NEVER RETURN… NOT EVEN YOU, DAMAR!”
Mr. Damar gritted his teeth and shouted: “No! I return to God. God, the Almighty Master of life and death! Not to you!”
He recited sacred verses and mantras loudly. The hallway shook violently, the white light intensified, and the black shadow screamed in pain, melting like burning charcoal. The other spirits ran in panic, disappearing into the walls.
Aris was suddenly pushed toward the light, his body falling right in front of the treatment room door. Mr. Damar was dragged along with him, and in an instant—the hallway vanished.
The two of them were now back in Aris's room. Cold sweat poured down his face. Aris sobbed, then hugged Mr. Damar tightly. Ustad Rafi also said, "Alhamdulillah," he said, "forgive me, for I am back in my body."
"Uncle... I... I'm still alive?"
Mr. Damar took a deep breath and looked around. The room was silent. There were no more whispers, no more dark shadows. He smiled faintly.
"Yes. God is still giving you a chance, Aris. Use it well. Don't repeat a life far from Him again."
Aris nodded, tears streaming down his face.
Outside, the night breeze blew calmly. The hospital still stood, shrouded in mystery. But for Mr. Damar, that night was proof: even though dark tunnels can lead people to the supernatural, the light of faith remains stronger than any darkness.
The end.
