Penjaga (Part 1)

by H. Joplin Mosiun 

August 25, 2023

The echo of footsteps resonated through the quiet corridor of the flat. Ras had headed out for a lecture, entrusting the room keys to his friend Joe. Clasping the bunch of keys in his hand, Joe Sabah, as he was often nicknamed, decided to resume his sleep. The holiday break had provided an opportunity for Joe, a native of the island of Borneo, to stay over at Ras' flat, which was mostly occupied by Malaysian students.

Beyond the window, a gentle snowfall had transformed the landscape into a serene tableau. The skies draped in a blend of whitish and dull grey hues, seemed to beckon to Joe, inviting him into slumber. As drowsiness enveloped him, he caught a faint murmur of his name. A whisper that straddled the line between wakefulness and dreams.

The voice was unquestionably Ras', yet the very idea seemed nonsensical, given that Joe was alone in the room. He tried to reason with himself, attributing the voice to his half-conscious state. Perhaps it was a trick of his imagination, a fleeting thought he presumed he must have heard. Despite the lingering sound at the fringes of his thoughts, Joe's eyes remained shut. The allure of sleep proved irresistible, overshadowing any concerns about what might be sharing the space with him. 

Joe was abruptly awoken by a force tugging at the foot of the bed, causing the duvet to shift. His eyes fluttered open, and what he saw before him seized his breath. Standing at the foot of the bed was a man with long, curly hair and dusky skin. 

The man, scantily clad in attire fashioned from palm leaves that modestly covered his lower body, exuded an unsettling appearance with his bloodshot eyes and lolling tongue.

The figure continued to utter in Malay, "Saya mau tidur." Its expression grew increasingly intense, and its gaze firmly locked upon Joe. Without warning, the figure began to climb onto the bed, a growing sense of dread taking hold of Joe. As fear tightened its grip, he felt himself being pulled into a swirling abyss of uncertainty and darkness.  A cold sweat broke out as his body succumbed to the overwhelming tension. The world around Joe blurred.

A sudden commotion jolted Joe from slumber. He blinked, momentarily disoriented, as he registered the presence of a small group of friends huddled around him. Concern etched their faces, mirroring the worry in their voices as they explained to Joe what had transpired. 

After Ras returned from his class, he stood before the door and knocked, expecting Joe to unlock it. However, his calls went unanswered, and there was no sign of movement from within. Ras' persistence in knocking and calling out to Joe yielded no result. With each unanswered attempt, his worry and concern for Joe's well-being deepened, casting a shadow of unease over the situation.

As the moments passed, other flat mates joined in, their voices rising in a chorus of calls and shouts aimed at Joe. The air grew heavy with collective anxiety while wondering what might have happened to Joe in the room. 

Finally, they contacted the landlord of the student flat, who held the master key.

They found Joe in a state of deep sleep, one that seemed to stretch for an eternity. It was a sleep that had carried him through an ordeal unlike any other. Everyone remained oblivious to the events that had unfolded in the room.

The next day, curiosity and unease mingled in the air as Joe recounted the strange incident to Ras. Ras listened intently, his brow furrowed in thought. As they delved into the conversation, Ras retrieved an object carefully wrapped in cloth. With a solemn air, he unveiled a stone artifact adorned with elegant Jawi and Javanese inscriptions. Ras revealed that this was a talisman passed onto him by his grandfather just before leaving Malaysia for the United Kingdom. The artifact seemed to pulse with a sense of history and mystery, a tangible link to a world beyond the ordinary.

He considered the possibility that what Joe had encountered might have been a guardian spirit. An entity from the realm beyond, tasked to protect the possessor of the talisman. Despite his openness to the idea of supernatural phenomena, Ras confessed his skepticism, acknowledging the difficulty of reconciling such experiences with a rational worldview.

As Joe mulled over the strange encounter that had shaken him to his core, a nagging thought tweaked his consciousness: Could this have been an encounter with a spirit from the depths of the Malayan jungles? The spirit's attire bore a striking resemblance to the traditional garments of the Orang Asli. The idea swirled in his mind, blending his own beliefs and the narratives he had heard about the mystical aspects of the region.

The jungles of Malaya were steeped in folklore and tales of spirits, guardian entities, and supernatural beings that were said to inhabit the dense foliage. Joe's origins in Borneo had exposed him to similar stories from his own culture. The figure's appearance seemed to align with the descriptions of spirits whispered about in campfires and passed down through generations.

Yet, Joe grappled with his skepticism, echoing Ras' sentiments. Could this truly have been an encounter with the supernatural or was it just a figment of his imagination heightened by fatigue and the unfamiliar setting? As they contemplated the nature of the human experience and what lay beyond explanation, the boundaries between the known and the unknown began to blur, casting a veil of uncertainty.

Despite the disturbing nature of  the encounter, Joe's reflections led him to consider a different perspective that perhaps the spirit he had encountered was merely seeking respite from its eternal damnation.