Now aware they were trapped in a looping forest, Janu finally broke the silence, his voice low and tired.
"So... this is what you meant by sensing something earlier, right?"
Jantaka's tone was sharp. "Yeah. Whatever's behind this illusion has finally shown its hand. We need to find a way to break its hold."
Janu exhaled and let himself sag against a tree. "Alright, but give me a minute. All this walking is wearing me out."
Jantaka didn't object—at first. "Sure, but don't take too long. I'm sensing more movement nearby. And they're not spirits. They are living beings"
Janu looked up, suddenly alert. "What? Living beings? Wait, could it be my hiking group?"
Jantaka quickly shot down the hope. "No. Whatever they are, they're alive—but not human. The life force is weaker, more primal. My guess? Animals. A pack of them."
Janu sighed in disappointment but nodded. "If they're animals, it could be boar or deer. But the way they're circling? Could be forest dogs. They hunt in packs, and from my hiking experience they're most active at dusk or dawn. Usually, they steer clear of people—but just in case, help me monitor the area."
"Already on it."
Janu muttered as he adjusted the straps on his pack. "But telling from my dogwater luck recently... we could be dealing with a panther pack."
Janu then continued his banter dryly. "Bangsat lah… This jungle's already a nightmare. Why do the predators suddenly want to join the party?"
Seems like against Janu bantering, Jantaka replying.
"Don't jinx it. And don't be a downer. You've survived worse by now. Besides, you've got me. Try not to sound like a whiny kid."
"Yeah, yeah... thanks for the vote of confidence, old ghost."
"That's more like it. Rest if you must, but stay sharp. We never know what's coming next."
A few minutes passed. Janu's breathing calmed. He stood up and began moving again, eyes darting between the trees. This time, he was cautious—every step calculated.
"Okay," he muttered. "First things first... I need branches and twigs. Jantaka, anything new?"
"Still circling. But they're keeping their distance—so far. What's the plan with the branches?"
Janu crouched and began gathering materials, speaking quickly. "Wild animals hate fire. I'm making torches. I've got spare clothes in my bag—I'll wrap them around the branches. These big trees probably have resin we can scrape for fuel. And good thing I already kept one of my fire starters in my side pocket."
Jantaka let out an impressive hum. "You really know your stuff, kid. Too bad you didn't apply that brainpower to your school life. Maybe, just maybe, you'd be out of that dead-end retail job by now."
Janu rolled his eyes, stuffing a rag into his bag. "Wow. Thanks for the life advice, Guardian. And by the way, if you've been hanging around my soul all this time and really care about my studies, why didn't you help me pass my exams?"
"No, couldn't do that," Jantaka replied smoothly. "You doubted ghosts' existence, our existence in the past, remember? Besides, this madness is the only reason I could manifest now. Until then, I was dormant."
"Convenient," Janu grumbled, wrapping cloth around a sturdy branch. He glanced at the torch in his hands, suddenly unsure if it would matter. Fire or not, he was just one guy in a haunted jungle being stalked by god-knows-what. The thought knotted deep in his chest like cold iron.
"Really helpful."
"Just doing my job, kid."
Janu finished prepping the torches, then glanced up.
"Any movement from the pack?"
Jantaka's voice came sharp. "No, but—wait."
The forest fell still—eerily still.
Then came a sound. Not a howl. Not a screech. Something far worse.
A low, bone-deep growl rolled through the underbrush. It wasn't loud, but it was close—too close. It vibrated through the soil, as if the ground itself warned them.
Then, above it—like a cruel echo—came a cry.
Not an animalistic roar. No. This was something else. A high, distorted wail—like a woman screaming in a dream, warped and stretched into something wrong. It came from deeper in the forest, laced with something hollow, something inhuman.
Janu froze. The sound knifed through his spine, his breath caught in his throat. His heart slammed against his ribs.
"Fuck…" he breathed. "I've heard wildcats before, but that... that wasn't right. What the hell screams like that?"
"Shut up," Jantaka hissed. "That wasn't a warning. That was a signal. They're moving. Fast. Silent. You won't hear them until they're breathing down your neck."
Janu clenched the unlit torch in his hand. "Shit! How close are they?"
"Too close. We've got seconds. Ready the fire. You've got a plan, kid?"
Jantaka's question barely landed before Janu's mind kicked into overdrive. What if the torches didn't scare them? What if the pack was bigger than he thought? His thoughts ran wild, chasing second plans, third plans—anything that could work.
Not long after pushing his brain to its limits, a plan finally took shape—hazy at first, but taking form under the pressure.
"Alright," Janu whispered through clenched teeth, his breath fogging slightly in the cool morning air. "I think they were circling to sniff out an opening. Now that they've locked onto me, I need to throw off my scent. I'll try masking it—mud, leaves, anything."
Without hesitation, he dropped to the forest floor. It was damp and cold, the earthy scent of decay clinging to his skin. He rolled through the underbrush, smearing wet soil across his jacket, arms, and face. Loose leaves stuck to him like scales. He dug his fingers into moss, stuffing it into his collar, hoping its dampness would muffle the human scent rising from his sweat-soaked skin.
Every heartbeat felt like it might give him away.
Jantaka's voice came through sharply, low and urgent. "Ssshhh. Stop. They're close now."
Janu froze, muscles stiffening on instinct. His breath became shallow. He crouched low behind a dense clump of ferns, breath shallow, body sinking into the forest's shadow. A branch cracked in the distance, just beyond the veil of leaves although vividly visible from afar but he knew it was subtle at first, like a ripple of black ink seeping through the trees, barely a whisper against the moonlight.
Until they get close to Janu's sight line, it is then taking Janu by surprise. From the shadows, a shape emerged—fluid, low to the ground, blacker than the forest itself. Its eyes caught the moonlight like twin embers in the void.
One panther. Then another. Then more, and now all four of them are finally surfacing from the dark forest. They glided like shadows made flesh—sleek, silent, the dark sheen of their fur rippling beneath moonlight. Their eyes were molten gold, cutting through the darkness like daggers. Swooping in like the wind, dark as night sky, glooming under the moonlight. Their sharp ears, proactively scanning the surrounding, trying to catch any unsuspecting sounds.
Ghosts with muscle. That's what they were. Their paws barely disturbed the earth. Janu's pulse pounded so loud he feared they'd hear it. Each inhale felt like betrayal. Their lean, muscular bodies glided over the forest floor with ease. Janu recognized their dark black fur immediately, and the distinctive long tail of theirs. He had only seen them once before but it's just a vivid memory from the past because back then, he couldn't see them clearly because of their fast reaction but nonetheless he knows he has seen them—on a hiking trip, from a distance. Now, they were so close he could hear them breathing. The sound was steady, alert—punctuated by low huffs and occasional snorts as they sniffed the ground.
"Of course," he hissed under his breath. "Panthers. Because why not? Out of all possible predators, why them?! Fuck!" Janu's unconsciously raising his voice but getting interrupted by Jantaka.
A few of the panthers froze. Ears perked. One let out a low growl, eyes narrowing toward the ferns. Their stillness was worse than movement—like nature had paused to listen.
"Keep it down kid!" While Jantaka heed its warning, the panther pack, simultaneously raising their ears responding to the sudden spike of voice from Janu's. They then become more aware of the surroundings after that. They begin to search more vigorously.
Jantaka berates Janu's because of this, saying "Look what have you done! Now they become sharper than before!"
Janu, feeling guilty and wary at the same time apologizing to Jantaka
"I know.. I know…. I'm sorry but it is just so much of a fucked up fate to see these animals out in the wilds. They are infamous for being a great hunter inside the forest and don't get started that many humans have died because of them. This is a once in a lifetime moment and it's more memorable to be their main course just like me now." Janu's saying that to distract his wary and anxious mind.
"Okay, I get it. But always keep it quiet, you lucky they still haven't spotted us," Jantaka whispered. "If we move now—carefully—we might slip past them. But slow. Very slow."
Janu nodded wordlessly. Every nerve in his body screamed for him to run, but his survival instinct knew better. He began to creep forward, one palm pressing into the soil at a time. His boots barely made a sound as he shifted his weight across a shallow slope. His breathing was slow, controlled, and his eyes never left the panthers pack ahead.
The pack was restless. Their formation was tight, but not chaotic. They were communicating—short hissing, warning growls, nudging each other with noses and shoulders. He could tell they were hungry. Desperate. Something about the way they lingered, howled, searched. Maybe it had been days since their last real meal.
"Now, I know what you think kid. Don't be their meal."
As he slipped past the third tree, an unsettling silence fell.
The jungle exhaled a sound that didn't belong. A roar—deep, guttural, older than memory—rolled through the trees like a living wall. Every creature paused. Even the wind held its breath.
It rolled through the trees like a shockwave. Not the sharp, panicked growling and hiss of the panthers. Not the yipping howl of scavengers. This was deep. Resonant. It rumbled in Janu's chest and turned his bones to ice.
His body locked. A chill swept through him as if the jungle had just exhaled death.
Janu could feel Jantaka being tense in his mind. "Hold on, kid. I know what you're thinking. But keep it together."
Janu swallowed hard. "I… I know and I want to believe that sound was in my head. That you whispered it to mess with me. Anything but that."
Jantaka then replied "I wish I did," Jantaka replied, voice unusually grave. "But that came from the jungle. It's real."
Janu tried to cope with his current situation, he began to think deeply. Inside his thoughts he then realised something and because of that realisation his muttering became somewhat trembling but also frustrated and confused at the same time.
"I just realized, the only animal that could make such a roaring sound in the jungle in my country is the tiger but at the same time, if this place is still the same or connected to the real world before I was here, then it means this is still Java island. And tigers in Java are already extinct. What's going on here, something does not add up here Jantaka!"
Jantaka then added its own thought saying in such a wary but curious tone.
"I agree, some things are not right, last time I saw tigers was also with your ancestors back then when he arrived in Java. But this "tiger", there's something… off. If it was just a tiger, I wouldn't be this on edge. That thing's aura—it's thick, unnatural. This forest hides more than just predators."
Janu's heart skipped. His grip on the torch handle tightened.
"That just makes it more absurd now. Regardless, whatever it is… it wants me dead."
He dared a glance behind him. The panther had stopped moving. They stood rigid, ears forward, heads lifted. One let out a low hiss. Another crouched. Their body language had shifted—from hunters to prey.
Even they are afraid…
He wanted to take it as a sign—maybe the tiger would scare the panther off. But as soon as hope flickered in his chest, it vanished.
His foot slipped on wet moss.
A dozen tiny rocks skittered across the forest floor like gunfire. The sound echoed in the hush, loud and damning.
Janu froze, but it was too late.
Every panther head turned.
Their yellow eyes locked onto him, and in an instant, their hesitation was gone. Their posture shifted—ears flattened, tails stiff, shoulders tensed.
"Fuck this knee," Janu muttered, terror blooming inside his chest, voice that thick with panic.
There was no more cover. No more hiding. The panther bared their teeth and let out a chorus of guttural yawl. Their muscles coiled—
And then, they charged.
The sound of their feet thundering against the earth was deafening. Twigs cracked beneath them. Leaves flew in the air. Their breath came in snarls and growls.
Janu stood and because of those sudden changes, he started running in panic.
Behind him, the jungle exploded with life. Every bush trembled. Every branch snapped. The pack was on him, and the tiger—if it was even that—still loomed out there, somewhere in the dark.
Jantaka's voice cut through the chaos. "Don't run, you idiot! You know this! You run, now they really see you as prey now! Use the terrain! Think!"
"I'M FUCKING SCARED RIGHT NOW! OF COURSE I RUN YOU IDIOT GHOST!"
But Janu's heart was racing too fast, his breath ragged in his throat. He ducked under a low branch, scrambled over a fallen log, slid down a slope slick with mud. His mind was a blur—survival, escape, distance.
His brain shouted: Fire! FIRE!
He skidded to a stop, fumbling with the fire starter in his belt. His fingers trembled. Sparks flew, barely catching. He starts screaming like a maniac hoping for a fire to be lit.
Come on!… Come on!!!…
Sparks burst, flicked off steel. Nothing. Then—flare.
The cloth caught with a hiss. Fire bloomed into gold.
Janu swung the torch up like a sword.
Panthers burst from the trees—and stopped.
A sudden whoosh, and the world was bathed in firelight. Gold danced across the bark. Shadows reeled. The panthers recoiled, eyes wide, unsure.
The panther skidded to a halt, snarling, confused by the sudden brightness. Another one hesitated at the edge of the light.
But the hunt wasn't over.
Something else was coming.
Something worse.
And the jungle held its breath once again.