Disclaimer: In Real Life is a platform for everyday people to share their experiences and voices. All articles are personal stories and do not necessarily echo In Real Life’s sentiments.
An encounter with a black figure in a cemetery toilet.
This incident happened when I was in my teens back in the early 2000s.
I had just gotten my 1st bike then, and naturally, my friends and I planned to go “exploring”. There were 3 of us: R*, S* (*not their real names) and myself. We each rode our own bikes.
Our 1st stop was the old Choa Chu Kang muslim cemetery. We reached the public toilet at track 33 around 11pm-ish that night.
This fairly medium-sized shed was once used as a place to bathe and prepare the deceased before burial. In later years, it was remodelled to be used as a public toilet.
That evening, everything was dark with no street lights, even though the moon was full.
So we sat there on the concrete slab and R jokingly mentioned how eerily quiet it was. A slap on the back of his head reminded him to be more tactful.
But he wasn’t wrong. It was quiet. You would normally hear crickets or something, but it was dead silent.
R and I sat facing S, with our backs facing the toilets. S had a full view of the toilet entrance.
We didn’t talk at first. We just sat there, looking all around with our cigs lit, trying to feel for anything unnatural. After a while, we got bored and started chatting softly. Nothing unusual happened.
Out of the blue, S suggested that we leave. R and I agreed. S walked ahead. He wasn’t a smoker.
By then, I was on my 3rd or 4th stick. I gave my cig one last puff and flicked the butt towards the toilet, aiming for the entrance, which was a dark entryway between the walls of the toilet. My cig butt went through and disappeared into the darkness.
R did the same. He flicked his butt at the exact spot where I had flicked mine. His, however, somehow bounced back. We could see the ember of his cig hit something at the entryway, ricochet and land on the floor.
Our eyes widened. Without uttering a word, we understood that we needed to leave, quickly. We didn’t dare to look back to see what the butt had hit, but it definitely hit something that wasn’t there before.
“Mintak maaf tuk…Cucu tak nampak atuk diri situ,” R quivered. (I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you standing there.)
R promptly sought forgiveness from whomever he might have offended. I did the same, just in case.
We rushed along the pathway towards our bikes, saying nothing till we had left the cemetery. Luckily, there were no further incidents. Thank God.
We went back to S11 at Choa Chu Kang to chill and talk about what had happened. Turns out the reason S wanted to leave was because he saw a tall black figure peeping at us from the toilets.
R told him about the ciggy thing. However, S didn’t say a word, as doing so would be taboo, he said.
“Eh, basket, you saw then you never say anything?” we pressured S.
“How I know?? I already say we should leave. I didn’t see what you two were doing back there,” S replied.
“You know that place bound to have things around and you simply throw here throw there. Lucky we came out in one piece,” he continued sternly.
R and I got pissed at him while also feeling a bit guilty. But being young, dumb and bold, we eventually laughed it off.
Still feeling adventurous, we continued to another spot that very night.
An encounter with a “Miss P”
So there we were at S11, chilling and discussing what to do and where to go next, when S received a call from his then girlfriend, now wife. Lets call her T.
T wanted to tag along. R and I showed our reluctance, telling S we thought it was a bad idea.
S refuted us, saying, “The more the merrier,” so we eventually gave in. We had nothing against T; we were just concerned for her.
Anyways, since T stayed in Sembawang, we all agreed to visit the nearby Kampong Wak Hassan. None of us had been there before, so what better place to go to as our proving grounds?
After picking up T, we headed for Jalan Selimang. There was no GPS back then, so we took a while to reach the place. By then, it was close to 3am.
We parked our bikes at the road’s edge. From there, we could see the Johor Straits. We walked cautiously towards the grassy patch. Getting ourselves familiar with the place, we looked around for anything interesting.
There was a small altar by a huge tree with colorful banners tied from the trunk to the other surrounding trees. It was quiet. We stood there looking around while taking in the sights, sounds and smells.
We started talking about how this place was where people would dispose of “dirty” and “unwanted” things. We soon became engrossed in the subject.
“Shh..shh..s-shhhhh,” T hushed. She heard something in the trees beyond where we were standing. We stopped talking and tried listening in.
Sure enough, we did hear something odd. It sounded like a very faint quacking sound. Not like a duck but something similar. Then it stopped.
S mentioned something about “it” being near as the sound was faint. R asked whether it was really “her” or if it was something rational. S assured us that it was indeed “her” as S was familiar with the sound.
Although I myself had a previous encounter with Miss P, that was the 1st time that I heard the infamous quack. Our attention was now on S as he was a bona fide expert on matters such as these.
S suggested we stay awhile longer to observe for any more signs. We quietened ourselves down, listening attentively. I swear I had goosebumps on my goosebumps.
S suddenly snapped his head towards some trees along the waterline. His eyes focused. T asked what was wrong. S did not answer immediately, but then he softly said,
“Kau ikut kita sampai sini eh…” (So, you managed to follow us here)
I gulped. R became pale.
T clutched S’s arm asking, “What are you talking about? Who followed us? What do you see?”
But S kept quiet. We looked at where S was looking, hoping to see what he saw. Nothing. All darkness. Just trees. Then the quack came back suddenly.
We were startled. Now we were really spooked. I almost let out a small yelp. Almost.
As things had gotten hairy, we all decided to bail. S and T led the way while R and I walked behind, heading towards our bikes. I felt a heavy and dreadful presence as we walked. Like something was ready to pounce, staring at us as we walked.
I steeled my nerves and focused on my bike ahead. Knowing that a mosque was nearby, we were thinking we could seek shelter and protection there if something were to give chase.
We got on our bikes, ready to leave. My body was trembling with fear. Amazingly, we were able to hide our anxieties right until we heard someone call R’s name. It was clear. There was no mistake — “it” had said his name. It came from where we were a moment ago. That huge tree.
Shit…I panicked and stalled my bike. R didn’t even start his bike, he just reacted. On his bike, he leg-paddled, zooming past me and S.
I followed closely, pushing my bike past S, not wanting to be left behind. S got his bike started and rode away from the location steadily. He caught up with us a distance away. We had overshot and had already passed the road leading to the mosque.
R and I were panting at the side of the road.
“Tak steady ar korang, hahaha,” S exclaimed. (Not steady ar, you all)
Just as we were catching our breaths and peering back, we saw headlights beaming through the bend heading for us. Who could it be, we pondered. Fellow adventurers?
Red and blue lights started flashing. It was a patrol car. They were heading in. It turned out that this road was part of their patrol route.
They stopped to ask the normal police v.s. civilian questions. What are we doing here, how many of us…etc.
We told them a grandmother story about our bike getting stalled, blah…blah…blah.
“Ok, you need an escort out?” one officer asked.
“No need, Sir, we can manage,” replied S.
The officer nodded and drove off towards Jalan Mempurong. We didn’t hang around either. We headed for Sembawang, to T’s void deck.
Upon reaching, R said he wasn’t feeling good and wanted to go home. S was against this, but R insisted. R was quite a frail guy. Maybe what happened tonight was too much for him. We said our goodbyes and he left.
After taking T home, S and I sat on the curb next to our bikes. It was then almost 5am. S shared something with me about what happened that night.
The events that followed changed the rest of our lives.
The guardian Panglima and the entity Dazzar
This is the 3rd and final part of my story. It might be cliche to say that the truth is stranger than fiction but my story is truly a strange but sad one for me personally.
So let’s begin, or end this.
After sending T home, S and I sat near our bikes on the curb. S began by saying that what happened that night was known to him in his dream.
I looked at him in disbelief. Sure, I knew he had talent, but this? This was on another level, I thought.
S had what we called a “Pendamping”. A guardian angel, to translate loosely. He had 2 of them. He described one as a “panglima” and the other as a creature that could shape-shift into animals.
I was intrigued. They were passed down to him by his late father and his father before him. He had a lot of “pantang” that he had to adhere to. Strict ones.
So anyways, he said that his guardian came in his dream, and told him that a powerful entity would show itself to him in days to come.
He even said that its name was Dazzar (I don’t know how to spell the name but that’s how it sounded).
I asked S, “Was the black figure you saw at Choa Chu Kang cemetery the entity your guardian had warned you about?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“How did you know that it was the same one?”
“In my dream, my guardian said the entity had a long scar across his face.”
Here is where this gets incredible. Dazzar got the scar from a battle centuries ago during a battle with S’s guardian.
Dazzar had been lying in wait for an opportunity to exact his revenge.
I sat there with my mouth now on the floor. I was like, whaaaaaaat?… I knew S for a long time but I saw him in a different light that night. I wanted so badly to dismiss everything he had said, but somehow, I believed him.
The black figure he saw both at Choa Chu Kang cemetery and Jalan Selimang had the same scar, S clarified to me.
But as long as S’s guardian was around, Dazzar would keep its distance. I asked why show itself now and not any other time?
Dazzar saw an opportunity when he saw how weak R was spiritually. But still, Dazzar kept a distance with S’s guardian keeping watch.
So from what I understood, if the guardians were busy helping R, S would be left exposed and hurt S to get his revenge or something like that.
I then realised something. We had heard something calling R’s name back at Selimang. R’s name was Azhar. Was it calling R?
S said Dazzar was introducing himself to S and not calling R. Such a coincidence, I thought. We kinda chuckled knowing that R panicked after he had mistaken something calling his name. Crap, so did I before S mentioned any of this.
The reason S wanted R to stay back with us before heading home was so that S could give the all clear and safely leave without any intrusion from Dazzar.
“Is he here now?” I asked. S said no. He feared that Dazzar might have followed R home.
How like that… we had to chase after him.
“No need,” said S as he had sent his guardian, the shapeshifter, after R.
Man….all this sounded weird and so far-fetched. Like we were part of a movie. We chitchat for a while more and we went our separate ways as dawn began to break.
The next evening, we met at R’s void deck. I arrived first and saw R sitting on a stool at a round concrete table.
“Assalamualaikum, R,” I greeted.
“Eh, W’salam…” R replied.
“Eh, how lah last night? You okay?” I asked.
“Okay lahh…Got home and my dad was waiting for me at the door. He never does that. Strange,” R said.
“Then I had this weird dream also,” R continued.
S arrived with T by his side. We greeted each other and they sat around the table. R continued to share what he had dreamt the previous night when S butted in.
S: “I know, you saw a big eagle right?”
R: “Oh my god, how did you know?!”
S: “Don’t worry lah. It’s a friend. I’m glad you reached home safely. Your parents were worried.”
R: “Y-ya, my dad was at the door waiting for me when I got home. I thought I would get an earful for coming home late but instead, he asked me if I was hungry and made me a sandwich while I went to wash up… weird sia.”
S: “All went well then.”
S smiled and we began talking about the stuff that had happened the night before. We laughed, we joked, and did what friends do till late that night.
Years later, S and T got married and migrated to the UK. R unfortunately passed away just months after S left, due to poor health.
S flew back to be at R’s side in his home before heading to the cemetery.
I met S downstairs before heading up to R’s home. We walked into his home to pay our last respects. There he was. Our friend, laying on the floor wrapped in a burial shroud. We kneeled down at his head.
S whispered as he touched R’s forehead, “Sorry I wasn’t there to protect you, my brother.” Hearing that, I shed a tear. I said a few words to him and recited a few verses too.
S did not follow the procession to bury R. He said he had a plane to catch. We said our goodbyes and he left while I boarded the chartered bus to the cemetery.
It was days later that I realised the meaning of what S had said…
S had left, leaving R unprotected from… Dazzar.
Coincidence or ill-fated, I don’t know.
It was borderline insanity to even consider R had died supernaturally. And if it is true, it’s a secret only S and I share.
S, if you are here reading this, I miss you buddy.
R… rest well my friend. I miss you too.
For more stories like this, read: I Used To Work In A Haunted Hospital. Here’s What Happens Late At Night and In 2012, My School Experienced Mass Hysteria Where Students Ran And Screamed Like Demons.
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