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Submitted by Asan Kayo on SC Private Group - It Must Be the Hantu ” Not only one but 3 lady cyclists encountered a driverless van around 1-2am along New Tiew Road recently. Anyone has any information of driverless van or ghost van or ghost vehicle along that stretch?”  This was submitted to us via a member of the SC Private Group. This was taken in a condominium in the east of Singapore. According to the management, the 4th floor unit has been empty for three months but security guards doing their rounds would occasionally see a lady in white standing at the window. This video is edited to shorten the duration to where the action is and brightened for clarity. Discussion on the group has suggested that it might be a curtain or a squatter in the unit but personnel working in the condominium has confirmed that there's not body living in the unit and there's no curtain by the window. So what could this be? You can see the zoom in stills below.
 Confession by Hamdan Angullia This story was told to me by an ex-colleague, J, many years ago so the details might not be so accurate. The story was so bizarre that it remained in my memory for almost thirty years. J, just got married and was in a rush to move into his first flat at Bedok Central Block 200-something. It was one of those low level flats with only four levels, and he had managed to get it at an attractive price. This first incident took place on the night they moved in. The couple was doing what newly-weds do. The bed was shaking because of the love making, but a little later on, J thought the bed was shaking more than it should. So he slowed it down a notch but the bed continued shaking with the previous intensity. J leapt off the bed and looked around the place. His young wife was still on the bed, obviously baffled by her husband’s strange behaviour. It didn’t take long for her to realise quickly that the bed was still shaking vigorously when it shouldn’t. She too leapt off the bed. Without hesitation or discussion, they got dressed in a hurry - the amorous mood totally ruined - and left the flat. J used a payphone to call his father to explain what had just happened. His father told J not to return to the flat and to wait for him at the hawker centre. His father arrived two hours later. In that time, he had gone to seek the services of a bomoh. J related the incident again to the Bomoh when he arrived and, together, the four of them went back to J’s flat. When they were approaching the stairs, J saw his neighbour, an elderly malay man with a sinisterly creased face dressed in black shirt, black pants with a black songkok. He stood on the stairs as if he had been waiting for them. J greeted the man. The neighbour nodded at J but addressed the Bomoh directly. “I know what you are going to do. But you should let me do it. It’ll be so much easier because they all belong to me,” the man said, and went on to explain that he too was a Bomoh and that he pelihara (kept) a lot of jin and other supernatural creatures. He too was a Bomoh and that he pelihara (kept) a lot of jin and other supernatural creatures. “When the previous owner of J’s flat moved out, the flat had been vacant for a long time. I tompang (use) the place and housed some of these things.” The neighbour explained that he intended to take them all back once he knew the new owner was going to move in. He thought he might have some time when renovation work was being done but J and his wife had moved in without doing any renovation. Once they got the keys to the flat, they cleaned it, brought what little furniture and appliances they had into the flat and moved in, all in one day. So J, his wife, his father and the visiting Bomoh remained on the ground floor while the neighbour went up to J’s flat to collect his jins and other supernatural beings. J didn’t know what the neighbour had done and quite honestly I don’t think he really wanted to know either. It was an ‘ignorance is bliss’ that sort of thing. After the cleansing was done and everyone had left, J and his wife lay in bed but couldn’t finish what they started. The mood was gone and they spent the rest of the night still feeling spooked. Everything was well the next day and the days after. Almost a month passed with no disturbances. One night J and his wife were roused from their sleep from sounds coming from the storeroom. They could hear things being dragged about or knocked on. Maybe it’s the mice, J thought to himself. They could hear things being dragged about or knocked on. He got out of bed, opened the door of the storeroom, and switched on the lights. The storeroom was bare, with just some bags, cleaning materials, a few utensils and fishing gear. J didn’t find any mice in there, of course, but said he felt a strong presence there and smelled a strange odour. It was also strangely cold. The strange sounds continued after J left the storeroom. J woke his wife up and together they went next door to look for their neighbour. “I think you might have forgotten to collect one more,” J said. “Hmmm.” The neighbour looked puzzled for a moment and appeared to be deep in thought for a moment, but decided to follow J back to his home. The neighbour looked into the storeroom, closed the door again and spoke to J outside the flat. “There is something in there, but it is not mine. It is a hantu ayer (a water ghost).” “How the hell did it get into my storeroom?” “I spoke to it just now,” the neighbour replied. “It had attached itself to your fishing rod when you had gone fishing and it followed you home.’ J was stunned at the answer. He had indeed gone fishing at Bedok Jetty the night before. “Can you help me to get rid of it?” The neighbour nodded. Even though there were no more incidents in the flat after that, J and his wife sold the flat as soon as they were able to. No one likes living next door to a bomoh and all his jinns.  Confession by Lawrence Akm This incident took place in 2020. My cousin, his friend and I went for a run at Mount Faber around 9pm. We drove up to the summit to park our car and started our run from there, down Mount Faber Park and towards Labrador Park. After we ended our run, we took a short break before making our way back towards Fort Canning. This was when things started getting strange. It was a direct route but for some reason, we couldn’t find our way back. We used a map app and it led us on a roundabout and we kept coming back to the same spot. Eventually we decided to ditch the walking path and take the road instead. If cars can come in and out via the road, that would be our best bet to find a way out of the park. So we took a narrow one lane road up the hill. There were some buildings there which looked like a chalet or some sort. It was already dark and the orange glow from the old lamps along the pavement did not help much. We checked the time, it was only 10.30pm; too early in the night for us to be spooked out but for some reason we were all feeling a bit uneasy at that time. As we were making our way up the hill. I turned back to look for any cars behind. That was when I spotted a leaf on a banana tree shaking violently; it was not only shaking, it was twisting! It was almost as if an external force was playing with the leaf. If it was the wind, I thought to myself, then the other leaves should be moving too but in this case, I double checked, it was only that one single leaf moving and twisting. Mind you, I wanted so much to believe that it was the wind but it was a warm and windless night. This does not look at all right to me. I quickly turned back and told my cousin and his friend about the strange leaf. His friend immediately asked me to be quiet and keep walking. I quickly turned back and told my cousin and his friend about the strange leaf. His friend immediately asked me to be quiet and keep walking. There was something ominous about the way he hushed us up that no one wanted to ask anything and we all just kept walking.
We eventually came to a spot with no street lights but the road led on into the darkness. We decided that perhaps this was not going to lead us back to our car and turned back to find a different route up. As we were making our way back out of the narrow road, I turned back to look at the banana leaf one more time. It had stopped moving. When we finally reached the mainroad and found civilisation again, we started to exchange notes about our individual observations. My cousin told me that if I see these things - things that cannot be explained - I should be quiet and not say anything about it, because as soon as “they” know that we have noticed their presence, they will continue disturbing us. Until today, I could not find a scientific explanation for what we encountered. Maybe it was an insect or a squirrel, I keep telling myself, but deep down inside I know what it was that I saw that night - It must be the hantu.  Written by Eugene Tay Peace Centre, situated in the Bugis Bras Basar district and at the arse end of Middle Road, is one of Singapore's oldest surviving mall that has not been upgraded since it was first built. The floor tiles, wooden hand rails, and faded pastel green coloured walls are all reminiscent of the 70s decor. Back in its heydays, Peace Centre was home to an eclectic mix of shops selling anything from bespoke tailored outfits to Kachang Puteh* . Over the years it housed dodgy businesses that catered for all manner of vices - sex trades, alcohol, gambling, drugs; and these are the ones that I personally know about. I'm sure there might be other more nefarious and darker deeds going about that place that are only privy to those in the industry. *Kachang Puteh literally translates to White Nuts. These are roasted nuts covered in white sugar. It was a popular snack that one would buy to eat in the cinema. Peace Centre might be the only place left in Singapore with a Kachang Puteh seller. I was a tenant of that building from 2007 to 2012, and had forged very close friendship with the neighbours. Even the lady boss who was in-charge of property management would sit with the tenants at the third floor cafe to chat during the slow weekday afternoons. Ghost stories, especially in Asia, is the one conversational topic that creates an immediate bond between the different races and cultures, and for an old building like Peace Centre, the stories were endless. Many of these tales, though as scary as they are when narrated, often times were urban legends - someone who had heard it from someone who had heard it from someone else. The 7th Floor Haunted Management Office  This story is slightly more believable because it came directly from someone who worked in the management office herself. T is not known to be someone who joked a lot. Besides my mother, T is the only other person I know who can smile with a frown. I have a love hate relationship with T. She's my landlady and each month when I see her, it's usually to pay rent, but there are also times where she and I would just sit down and gossip about the events that took place next building at Peace Mansion. I remember in one conversation where I was due to renew my rental agreement and I asked for a cheaper rate, she offered her 7th floor office as an alternative. It had bigger floor space, and she was practically giving it away for free. So I asked her what's the catch. "It's haunted," she said. Just like that. No set up, no preamble. "Things can move around. Cupboards can open and close by themselves." "But you were in that office for many years, aren't you afraid?" "This place quite common. You can see spirits walking around the corridors at night. It's not harmful. They are like our tenants. We are used to them. That's why you see some offices will leave packet drinks and sweets outside their doors." "Then why move out?" "Last month the haunting in the office started getting violent. Got one new staff said he don't believe in all these nonsense. Around 5pm, before we knock off, he heard the office chair rolled around. He went to check but most of us had already left for the day and there's no one in the adjoining room. He decided to scold the spirit. He went to check but most of us had already left for the day and there's no one in the adjoining room. He decided to scold the spirit. That's when the glass partitioned shattered and a large piece of glass cut his neck. He didn't die of course but since then, many of us in the office don't feel safe anymore. The energy got a bit darker. So we moved to third floor." "Any ghost there?" "Yeah have, That one quite interesting. The room used to be rented by a church for their congregation, but then they moved out already and we used it as a store. There's a timid child spirit there, and I think over time, the place attracted other children spirits to that place. The shifu [a holistic movement practitioner] on the fourth floor said that these are aborted child spirits. They got no where to go. But the mood is a lot better than on the seventh floor. They like music. Anytime of the day, our office radio can turn on and play on its own. Sometimes they even change the channel on their own. If you walk past and you hear music, that's not for us; it's for them." Do Not Deny The Beggar  This one was shared with me by the security guard who swore that he got the story from the father of the kachang puteh seller. This urban legend started in the 80s when Singapore still had beggars that sleep at street corners. As the story goes, there's a old indian man that would only appear during dusk to ask for food and money. There was one young man who would often take pity on this beggar and bought him food and offered him money. Though this young man wasn't wealthy himself, he had a kind and generous heart. One evening, when the young man had delivered food to the old beggar, the beggar reached out for his hand and asked him to stay. The young man did. "Young man," the old beggar said. "You have a kind heart. It is my turn to return you a gift." "It's okay, uncle, you don't have to give me anything," said the young man. The old beggar just chuckled and palmed a dirty old coin in the young man's hand. "Keep this in your pocket at all times, you will never be lack of money," the old beggar said. In that instant, the young man saw a shift in the old beggar's face, for a split second, but in that time the young man thought he saw the form of Bhikshatana. Bhikshatana is an aspect of the goddess Shiva in Hindu mythology. In that instant, the young man saw a shift in the old beggar's face, for a split second, but in that time the young man thought he saw the form of Bhikshatana. That was the last time that the young man saw the old beggar but he did remember to keep the coin in his pocket at all times. In fact, the young man prospered during the decade and owned a few business that operated out of Peace Centre. The rumour about his unnatural success was cemented when his businesses outlived his competitors. In the later part of 2000s, most of his businesses folded and he moved out of the building. No one has heard of him since. This led many of the neighbours to believe that he must have lost his magic coin. To this day, the older tenants would advice their staff who are working late to never deny the beggar asking for food if they met one at Peace Centre. Now the next bit might be entirely a coincidence but I cannot help but think back on this urban legend and wondering many times later in my life if I had indeed came face to face with the aspect of Shiva. I knocked off around 10.00pm one night and I was taking the side stairs down towards middle road, The only light illuminating this stairwell was the light from the street lamp nearby. As I walked down towards the second floor landing, I met an old Indian man making his way up. At this time of the night, there is no reason for anyone to be going into the building, and for us tenants, we pretty much knew most people by face. This man however, was unkempt, clearly hadn't showered in a while, and I think he might have been drinking. He curled his fingers and brought it to his mouth in an action that most people would interpret as "eat". He rubbed his stomach with the other hand and repeated his actions. I fished out for my wallet and as luck would have it, for him, I only have a ten dollar bill in my wallet and no smaller change. Remembering the urban legend shared by the security guard, I did not hesitate to part with my money even though that would mean I would have to skip dinner. The man took my money and happily made his way upwards. I walked away feeling conflicted. Half of me feeling stupid, and the other half consoling myself that I've done a good deed. Later that night, I found a folded fifty dollar bill in bus number 65. How would you explain that? The Girls of Peace Mansion  Come evening time, that place is a sight to behold. Many fine ladies in the tightest and tiniest of dresses, tottering around on the highest of heels would make their way down to have their meals before starting work at their respective nightclubs and karaoke bars in the vicinity. Danny and Anthony were two well known characters who would hang out everyday at the foodcourt area of Peace Mansion. They consider themselves entrepreneurs who truly understands what customers want, namely vices. The drinking and smoking tables at the food court are limited so we always end up sharing tables. As regulars, it is inevitable that bonds are forged and especially over common interest like booze and girls. That was how I got invitation into house parties and saw the human side of Peace Mansion. It is easy to look at these working girls, pimps, and colourful characters and pass our high society judgment upon them, but when you had the opportunity to speak with them as a person as I have, I found that they are no different from my conversations with investment bankers, the traders, and the get-rich-quick "coaches". They all just want to make as much money as they can. Greed is the name of the game; It is a cut throat industry and respect is measured in dollar bills. And with greed, especially in Asia, spirituality comes into play. I have heard stories of magic needles/beads that were surgically inserted under the skin in necks, cheeks, foreheads, and genitals, all in the name of business improvement. The ticket out for some of these girls were to snare a rich man who would keep them as a mistress. When that failed, magic is also used to take down a rival; and this was what, in my opinion, led to Peace Mansion having the haunted reputation it did. Initially the bulk of the working girls were from China, but Thais, Vietnamese and even Mongolian girls started flooding the scene. Each bringing with them their own spiritual beliefs. Some of these fights can lead to bitter ends and if these tales were to be believed, magic was responsible for some of the suicides and sudden death cases. While the law could not catch them, it is said that blood debt requires blood sacrifices. These girls would use the lives of their unborn fetus as payment. Any place with a high concentration of negative energy will attract spirits and entities from around the place, and over time, I was told, portals will form. For those dabbling in vices, they welcome such portals in their place of operation. "The more spirits, the better. Then we can bind them to our will and ask them for favours," said Danny. "The more spirits, the better. Then we can bind them to our will and ask them for favours," said Danny. "But don't get us wrong. We don't use these spirits to do bad things. We also dedicate merits back to them. So everyone wins," Anthony added. "You think these KTV places all don't play with such things? I tell you this entire block has more ghosts than humans ah." "So it's haunted?" I asked. "Everywhere also got ghost lah," Danny replied. "You don't disturb them, they don't disturb you. But if you need help you can ask, but then you need to give them something too." "Like that, isn't it easy to get rich? Just ask ghosts for help can already," I asked. "It's that easy. The more greedy you are, the more you ask, the more you have to pay back. For me, I just ask for small blessings. Make me better looking so people will like my face and want to do business. Anthony here always asking for bigger cock. That one need miracle. Ghost also cannot help." The table erupted with raucous laughter and exchange of generous expletives. Danny continued: "But seriously, making money is not hard - if you dabble in the spirit world - it's keeping your money and knowing how to keep your promises that's." This is a featured story based on my interaction with some interesting characters in Peace Centre. Personally, the scariest thing about Peace Centre is the toilets. The area around Peace Centre also have pretty interesting stories - Mount Sophia, Park Lane and the Old Cathay Cinema. Perhaps you might have some confessions of your own to share. We would love to hear from you.
 Actual dashcam footage of Karak Highway found on the internet. Confessions by Tan Ei Leen "This story references Karak Highway in Malaysia. It's important to note that Karak Highway has an international reputation for being one of the most haunted locations in Malaysia. The urban legend talks about a yellow Volkswagen Beatle that would keep appearing despite drivers passing by it. There were also many tragic accidents that took place on this highway." - Eugene Tay Now I have calmed down to write my encounter last night. As you all know, Selangor MCO started today (6th May 2021) and Raya is coming, my clients has assigned me to send Raya hampers this week. Supposed those hampers is divided to 3 days delivery but as we are also uncertain as to travel restrictions, we decided to clear everything yesterday. We informed the recipients and they agreed to receive at night as well. All was good until approximately 9.55pm. I was at the MRR2. My GPS showed that the recipient house is 3km away and 6 mins to reach. So I followed the GPS and suddenly it rerouted saying that I overshot. Well, sometimes we do take wrong turn so I was like... ok. Follow the rerouted route to a U-turn. So the nearest U-turn was the Genting highland old road. The dark kampung road next to the Karak highway. I used to U-turn tat road in daylight. When entering that road will reach a traffic light. At traffic light turn right and will have a junction and we will reach the main road. Last night at the traffic light, I turned right but can't see the junction. I can only follow the road. I didnt suspect anything and followed the road as per GPS. I remembered that time the road show 6km to reach destination. After about 2km I guess, suddenly the GPS showed 8km. I felt weird. Then I look at surrounding. Both left and right are trees. Front and back no cars. I was all alone. There were no street lights. Then I look at surrounding. Both left and right are trees. Front and back no cars. I was all alone. There were no street lights. Then i saw an abandon factory a few metres ahead with an abandon crane. No choice i turn there so i can make a U-turn. GPS still gave me weird directions but my guts tell me not to follow and to take the road back the same way I came in.
I tried so hard to chant "na mo ah mi tho for" but I was panicking and the words seem hard to come out. So I switched to call for Guan Yin Pu Sha. I couldn't chant the words properly. As the 黑白无常* (underworld gods) is my 乾爷 (patron), I just kept calling out 乾爷，救命 ("godfather, please help"). Soon after, I saw the main road junction and quickly exited the junction. Once I exited the junction, one yellow mini cooper (I think) dashed out of nowhere and I jammed on my breaks real hard and thankfully avoided an accident. That car was speeding and almost collided into me. If I had delayed for even one second, I would have been dead. *黑白无常 also known as dua di ah pek and underworld deities who help the living. Devotees often call them terms of respect such as 'godfather' or 'boss'  The thing stood outside my window Confessions by Raysan Ace I heard slow tapping on the lower aluminium part of my bedroom window from outside. I expected someone to be knocking on my door next but it was dead silent. I looked at the time and it was 3:10am. I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep and just few minutes later I heard sounds coming from my gate and living room front door. It was like shaking the handle of the gates and thumping the door. I got up instantly and just stood in my bedroom. I wanted to switch on the light but I didn't. I wanted to ask 'Who is it?' but I couldn't. The tapping continued at my bedroom window making my heart beat fast. I've sealed my bedroom window with cardboard because lights from the corridor were too bright for me to sleep. I tried to see any movement from the little bit of light coming thru the top edge of my bedroom window but there was nothing. I opened my bedroom door slowly and softly as I could, went to my chair and sat quietly. I strained my ears to pick up any sound but it was quiet except for my bedroom fan. I lit up a cigarette, sitting in darkness thinking if someone was playing a fool on me? I didn't feel any presence in the house but had this irritation of heavy burden on my chest. It was very disturbing. Finished smoking, got up and was about to enter my bedroom when I saw it! In fact, within matter of seconds from getting up I already knew something was going to appear and the sight of it nearly killed me! within matter of seconds from getting up I already knew something was going to appear and the sight of it nearly killed me! My whole body jolted from inside as I stood outside the bedroom. I then reached out to switch on the light with my right hand. The sight of it was very frightening! I knew from looking at it's height that it was no foul play and having familiarity with the supernatural, the same dire feeling held me again! The phone was in my left hand, I quickly took a picture and somehow I can feel that the thing knew what I was doing. I dropped my phone after taking a shot without flash. I picked it up quickly and with my hands trembling, set the camera to flash and took another shot. The thing grew as it moved and immediately shrank . I didn't dare open the door to check and just stood by my bedroom. I felt angry and afraid at the same time. Drank some water, sat down again and said some prayers. I switched on my kitchen and living room lights as I went back to sleep. I was tossing and turning in bed and couldn't sleep till 7am. (I'm sharing this so that if anything happens to me, people might know the cause. I really value those who prayed and gave me moral support but I also have to confide that I came across some who had an adverse motive for my wellbeing. They are the ones alleging that I'm not helping myself, that I can leave this house tomorrow and change things around miraculously.) Part 1 of the Spooner Road Saga and confession with Raysan Ace can be found here on our YouTube channel.  Photo by Daan Stevens on Unsplash Confession by Kim I am born and raised a Catholic and this religion ran deep in the family, even my ancestors all the way from China! After few decades, majority of our family members are still Catholic and one of my uncle even end up serving the church as a priest. Point of saying this is, the teaching and beliefs of this particular religion is fairly strong in the family. So this a story, about what happen, 18 years ago, a night before my grandma passed away. She had suffered diabetes more than 10 years before her passing, on top of the diabetes, she also suffered from terrible leg ulceration, to be honest, I do not know whether that is even the exact term for it, but her legs are pretty much, swelling, with wounds here and there and blackish in color for as long as I could remember. Due to diabetes, all these wounds would not heal and doctor said no choice but to amputate. The night before the surgery, my uncle and my cousin were keeping her company in the hospital. It has passed visiting hours, so hospital is fairly quiet except for the noise of cars passing by on the street outside. My cousin and uncle were having conversation but through whispers since both of them are not sleepy and they have to be awake anyway, in case of anything. I could not remember the exact time, when I think according to my uncle, it was rather late, or nearly midnight, when the both of them, saw and heard, the ward door swayed and remained open, as if there were someone that came through the door and stood there. But…there was no one there. What’s weirder is, the ward door, is an automated door. Both of them stopped talking and just stare at the door, they were thinking, could be doctors or nurses that is coming through and they open the door somehow. But the door remained open, with no one passing through, for 5 minutes or so, and it closed back by itself, like how it used to be. Right at the moment when the door was closed, my grandma opened her eyes, with the widest smile, she called my uncle and said, “you know who came to visit me just now?” Right at the moment when the door was closed, my grandma opened her eyes, with the widest smile, she called my uncle and said, “you know who came to visit me just now?” My uncle then asked who. “It’s Jesus and Mother Mary…” said my grandmother. Obviously, my uncle and cousin looked at each other puzzled and thought, she’s just dreaming. Grandma then continued saying, “They said, my legs are healed and I may come home” and obviously she’s very happy to hear that. No one in the world, no matter how bad is your condition, wanted any parts of your body gone. Uncle then told her, “good lah like that, then tomorrow we can check out and go home! But now, you have to sleep, cause now is still nighttime.” She went back to sleep.
The next morning, she woke up around 5 in the morning, feeling all happy after what she experiences the night before and told the story all over again to my uncle and cousin that is still there. She drank some water and then went to back to sleep, feeling all joyous. She never woke up. She passed away that morning, just a few hours before doctors could cut off both of her legs. It’s a sad news for our big family, her 13 children and over 30 grandchildren were all notified and asked to return home immediately. Dad, uncles and aunts went to the hospital to bring her body back for funeral. And this is the last part of the thing that we could not explain, when she is home, her children put on her favorite cheongsam as her last attire before she was placed in the casket. As they were dressing her, they found… no more swells, no more wounds on her legs and the color? It looks as white and as soft as a baby’s skin. This is when my uncle told the story of the night before. Maybe the higher power did visit her. Maybe her leg was really healed. Maybe she is really coming home. Just that, it was not our home, it was her forever home.  Confessions by Daniel B. Edited by Eugene Tay I work as a night shift security officer in a building that's situated in the commercial district. I am one of the only two personnel working the graveyard shift. Work starts at 8.00pm and one of us have to be stationed at the security counter while the other makes his rounds to patrol the building. One Friday night while I was on duty and taking my turn to patrol while my colleague took his break, I experienced my very first haunting. It was 11.00pm; I started my patrol from the 39th floor and made my way down. Each floor had two staircases so I will walk down from one stairwell, cut cross the entire stretch of floor to the other stairwell, and continue making my way down in this zig-zag pattern. On the 16th floor, when I was passing by the middle lift lobby, I saw an open pink umbrella with a kids ball outside an empty unit. In fact, the entire floor is vacant, it's quite strange to find these items here; and besides my partner would have mentioned seeing them when he went on his patrol. I was honestly freaked out at this time. The hair at the back of my neck stood up. Convincing myself that my colleague probably was lazy and skipped some levels, I tried to calm my nerves and completed my round. When I reached the ground floor, I still couldn't shake off the weird sensation I felt on level 16. Something about it just did not feel right. I decided that since my colleague did not mention anything before, perhaps this was a small matter and not worth talking about. There's still the entire night to work and we had to do some more patrols before knocking off, let's not scare either of us unnecessarily. I sat at the security counter playing games on my mobile phone. My colleague was inside the mail room taking a nap. Nothing happened until about 1.00 am, then I heard a lady's laughter going, "heheheh". Nothing happened until about 1.00 am, then I heard a lady's laughter going, "heheheh". It was loud enough to echo through the empty foyer. I paused my game and looked around. I was sure I heard a laughter. The sound of laughter is very distinct. It's not a bird or a sound that came from outside. This laughter came from inside the building.
I waited for a while expecting to hear any follow up sounds but there were none. I shrugged off that experience and went back to my game, and that's when I heard the laughter again. This time I chose to ignore it and continued to play my game, but I must tell you, inside I was freaking out. About 5 mins later, the laughter echoed again. This time I got pissed. You can say that way I handle fear is to replace it with temper. I jumped over the counter, not even bothering to walk around it, and ran towards the direction of the sound. I stood there in the dim light and shouted into the dark corridor all the vulgarities that came to mind. After that I did not go back to the counter. I went out of the building to smoke the adrenaline away. For the rest of the night, I stayed at the counter. Later on I found out that the building had a lot of weird incidents and according to the guards who had been there longer than me, the experience I encountered was not uncommon. There was another incident where a sleeping security guard woke up to find three ghostly apparitions in soldier's uniform scolding him in Japanese. So far the hauntings had not been malicious. With regards to my experience, I felt that the ghosts were more playful and just trying to get my attention. For most of us who had an experience in that building, it's usually just through sounds and feelings only. There were rumours that this building was built on old cemetery grounds and that the spirits are anchored to this place. Most places in Singapore, to be honest, have their own stories and hauntings lah so it's no point shifting job to another place either. Who knows what I will experience there. Maybe I may not be so lucky. Like they say, better a hantu you know than a hantu you don't.  Confession by Cara Wong Cover Photo Credit: Nikko Pascua "If I had to describe Tanglin Halt or "chup lao" as it was more commonly known, I would say it was basically the cusp of all the paranormal shit that happened to me and I wouldn't move there even if someone paid me a million dollars. Will probably split this story into 2 or 3 parts cause the number of encounters there were ridiculous." - Cara Wong So as a bit of a backstory, my dad was a regular in the "house flipping" scene. It basically meant buying properties at good prices, getting it done up and then reselling it at good profits. It also meant we never stayed in one place for very long. If memory serves, Tanglin Halt was either our 3rd or 4th home.
I will refrain from revealing the block number but it was close to the church and the old railway track. We first moved into a higher floor of that block and lived there for a couple of months before the real estate agent told us that a floor below us in the same block was selling for cheap - plus it was a corner unit. Naturally my dad's interest was piqued and within months we had yet moved to another home. On hindsight, no free meal in the world and cheap houses usually come at a nasty cost. In the beginning, everything started off small. Incidents that weren't so big that you could brush it off as your imagination or a coincidence.
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