My Grandfather’s Legacy | A True Horror Story
True Horror Stoy: A mysterious chest appearing after grandfather’s death, terrifying dreams, a possessed grandmother, and the battle against jinn. A true story of salvation and horror.
Hello, the event I’m about to tell is completely true.
The date was July 18, 2005. My family had gone to the village due to my grandfather’s illness. I couldn’t go with them because I had exams. I woke up for breakfast in the morning and had a nice meal first. While clearing the table, my mother called. I answered the phone, and with a tearful voice, she said, “We lost your grandfather, son.” I loved my grandfather very much. I collapsed where I stood and cried. I immediately rushed to the village.
They had placed a shroud over my grandfather, and a knife on top of it. We were reciting our prayers tearfully and accepting condolences. My grandfather was highly respected by the villagers. After the condolences ended, I entered my grandfather’s room. There was a chest there, almost as if it were saying “open me.” I went over and tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. I asked my mother; she gave me a stern look and said, “Don’t you ever touch that chest again!” But I was determined to open this chest; for some reason, I felt an extreme curiosity towards it. I didn’t enter the room again that day.
The next day, my grandmother called everyone for breakfast. She sat opposite me, smirking wickedly. I finished my breakfast and went inside. After watching some TV, I decided to take a nap. In my dream, my grandmother was running and shouting, “By Allah, by Allah, there are many in the realm!” and black shadows were chasing her. After waking up in fear, I went to the village imam and told him about my dream. “Son, get away from here,” he said. I still couldn’t understand what was happening. Perhaps my grandfather’s death had affected my psychology.
Without lingering, I went home. Nobody was there. I entered my grandfather’s room again; the chest was mysteriously open. Inside were copper items, copper trays, and books. But something was shining in the middle: It was a locket! The kind that has pictures on both sides when opened. I reached into the chest, took the locket, and opened it. I was shocked by what I saw; there was a picture of my grandfather and me, but my eyes were gouged out in the picture! I quickly put the locket in my pocket and closed the chest.
After my parents arrived, we ate dinner, drank tea, and everyone went to bed. We woke up in the night to my grandmother’s voice. She was shouting inside the house, looking at me, saying “You stole it! You stole it!” My suspicions grew; there was something about this chest, something very strange.
The next day, I returned the locket to my mother and apologized for taking it without permission. Looking at me, she said, “You spawn of a pig, you filthy thief!” Getting very angry, I retorted, “Why are you saying that, grandma? My picture was there too.” “That’s not you,” she smirked and went inside. Now I was really scared; I felt a shiver inside me. I had to solve the mysteries in this house.
In the evening, I went to bed and slept, but this time I didn’t have a nightmare. The next day, I went to the imam again. “Hocam (Teacher/Master), what am I going to do? What is all this?” I asked. “Come, let’s talk, my son,” he said, and after we sat down, he began to speak: “Look, son, I know your grandfather well. Years ago, your grandfather dealt with evil entities. The Afacan jinn were enemies of your grandfather. They tried to possess your family many times, but your grandfather never bowed down to them. But in the end, unfortunately, he succumbed; the evil ones took him. I didn’t tell you when you first came, not wanting to scare you, but it’s clear you’re going to pursue this. Don’t!” he said.
What the imam told me confused me greatly. With this confusion, I headed home. When I got home, my mother opened the door and said, “Don’t go near that man again!” “Which man? What are you talking about, grandma?” I asked. Clenching her teeth, she said, “Don’t you dare go near that imam again!” My parents had noticed the situation too and came over, but she acted normally around my parents.
Night fell, and I went to bed. This time, I saw a very beautiful girl in my dream. I saw her from a distance; she had an almost enchanting beauty. But as she got closer to me, she became uglier. Suddenly, she grabbed my throat, and her hideous face emerged: Pitch black, thorn-like teeth, bright blue eyes, and rotting flesh… Opening her mouth wide, she screamed in a disgusting voice, “You will die, you spawn of mud! You will mix with the earth like your grandfather!” After hearing these words, I woke up with a jolt. My mother was shaking me, saying, “What are you saying, son?” With a bewildered expression, I asked, “I wasn’t saying anything, I was sleeping, Mom. What happened?” But my mother had heard me speaking Hebrew loudly in my sleep. She was familiar with the language because of my grandfather.
I had had enough; they were messing with me. I had to get rid of this somehow. I went to the village imam and asked if there was anyone who could save me from this. He said there was someone named Mustafa Hoca in a nearby village, and if I wanted, we could leave immediately. I agreed, and we got into the imam’s car and set off.
After about a forty-five-minute journey, we arrived at a small village and knocked on Mustafa Hoca’s door. A cheerful man in his late forties opened the door. The imam spoke first, “Salam Alaikum, Mustafa hocam. This friend has a problem; I brought him thinking you could help.” Mustafa Hoca replied, “Wa Alaikum Salam, Imam Efendi. If Allah permits, we will try to help, Insha’Allah,” and invited us inside.
After listening intently to everything that had happened, he went to the next room, returned with some materials, and began reciting prayers in a whisper. Then he suddenly started shouting violently; the house literally shook. Finally, he shouted “MAICELIKE!” I felt an indescribable warmth inside me, but I no longer had control over my body. Suddenly, I started shouting in a terrifying voice: “WITH THESE RETURNS THE SON OF ADAM!” It was me saying this; I was witnessing everything but couldn’t intervene. The Hoca spoke again: “What do you want from the boy?” he asked. The voice inside me said, “They are our enemies! We swore to wipe out his grandfather’s lineage! Ha ha ha!” The Hoca started reciting something in Arabic. I could feel the thing inside me coursing through my veins; it seemed like it was trying to escape. At the same time, I was also in pain. After the Hoca finished reciting, he splashed quite hot water on my face. It hurt a lot, and I was still under the effect of the incident; my arms were bruised purple.
The Hoca said, “There is only one way to get rid of these, son: We will perform a jinn doll spell. Come back tomorrow, and don’t tell anyone when you come.” Afterwards, I left and went home. I knocked on the door; my mother opened it. There was something different about her. When I looked her up and down, I couldn’t believe my eyes: My mother’s feet were backwards! “Come on in, son,” she said. Without saying anything, I started running. I went straight to the village coffeehouse. Cemil Abi, the coffeehouse owner, asked, “What’s wrong, son? What’s this state you’re in?” “I had a fight with my family, abi. Can I stay here tonight?” I asked. Thankfully, he didn’t refuse me and gave permission. I pulled the chairs side by side, lay down, and slept.
I woke up when he came to open the shop in the morning, thanked him, and headed home. I knocked on the door; my mother opened it. I immediately looked at her feet; this time, nothing seemed wrong. I went inside and asked, “What are you doing? Where’s Grandma?” “She’s sleeping, son. Is something wrong? Did something happen?” she said. It was strange; she normally wouldn’t sleep this late. “No, nothing, I just asked,” I said, brushing it off.
In the late afternoon, as I was about to leave the house to go to Mustafa Hoca, a voice came from nowhere, saying “Don’t go!” Ignoring it, I quickly walked to the imam’s place, and we set off. When we arrived at Mustafa Hoca’s place, there was a cloth doll resembling me on the table. The Hoca sat opposite me and began reciting the Felak and Nas surahs one after another. Then, when he recited the Ruqyah verses, we started hearing screams in the house. The Hoca continuously recited the Ruqyah verses. Suddenly, he stabbed the doll’s heart with the scissors in his hand! At that moment, windows shattered, and the house began to shake. Mustafa Hoca said, “Close your eyes, don’t open them!” I was reciting prayers inwardly. When he said, “Open your eyes!” I was shocked by what I saw; I couldn’t move for almost five minutes. My late grandfather was sitting opposite me! He was smiling at me lovingly. “Grandpa, is that you?” I called out. Smiling, he said, “I am a Muslim jinn from the Nusaybin tribe. I came in your grandfather’s form so as not to frighten you. We, as a tribe, will protect you. We are at war with those infidel jinn. Stay away from that woman.” “Which woman?” I asked. “From Zeliha,” he said. That was my grandmother’s name! “What does my grandmother have to do with this?” I asked. “That woman didn’t listen to your grandfather; she collaborated with them. They deceived her. You lost your grandfather because of her dance. As I said, stay away from her. There are three ifrits inside her,” he said and disappeared.
I was so fed up; I prayed to die just to be free. Mustafa Hoca said, “It would be good if I stayed with you during this process; I’ll come with you.” The imam interjected, “Of course, hocam, you can stay at my house.” As we headed back to the village together, I heard retching sounds in my ears. We arrived at the imam’s house. While chatting, we heard a scream coming from our house. It was my mother’s voice! The Hoca and I immediately ran towards the house. We were shocked by what we saw in front of the house: My grandmother was lying on the ground, her face mutilated! Mustafa Hoca immediately grabbed my mother and me by the arms, pulling us, shouting, “Run to the house!” My mother’s eyes were bloodshot from crying. The Hoca quickly filled a glass of water, recited prayers over it, blew on it, and gave it to my mother. My mother calmed down a bit after drinking the water. I was worried about my mother. “Hocam, what do we do now? Please don’t let anything happen to my mother!” I said frantically. “Son, the Afacan jinn have attacked. No one’s life is safe anymore,” he said.
We sat by a wall inside the house, constantly reciting prayers. We heard retching sounds and whispers. Suddenly, a large stone was thrown inside. Mustafa Hoca carefully picked up the stone, avoiding the glass shards. There were Aramaic writings around the stone. It was a large stone, and it was covered in blood. The Hoca immediately said, “We need a copper tray and a candle!” I got up, took what he needed from the cupboard, and crouched down again. He poured boiling water into the copper tray and placed the stone inside. At that moment, my mother instantly turned purple. The Hoca shouted, “Hold your mother, hold her!” but my mother was thrashing herself on the ground. I immediately hugged my mother from behind and started holding her tightly. Mustafa Hoca took a rope from his bag and tied my mother up. My mother shouted three times in a terrifying voice, “Tell Allah Ferhan! I won’t tell!” The Hoca took the stone from the copper tray and hit my mother on the head. My mother fainted. I got very angry, “What are you doing, hoca? Why are you hitting my mother?” I yelled. The Hoca calmly said, “It’s for your mother’s good, son. Don’t worry, my intention is not to harm your mother.” A short while later, my mother woke up; her fingernails were bruised purple. The Hoca was constantly reciting. My mother’s eyes seemed to belong to someone else. We sat my mother down, tied her to the armchair with ropes, and went into the inner room to perform the ritual.
The Hoca took the copper tray, closed the curtains, and lit the candles. He took three strands of my hair and blood from a cut he made on my finger. After collecting these materials in the copper bowl containing water, he began to recite a prayer. As he recited the prayer, the water started bubbling, and shadows began to scream around us. What followed were moments of terror… Something suddenly happened to the Hoca; his eyes turned pitch black! My body completely froze out of fear, and the Hoca started shouting, looking at the ceiling: “He dies! Those who are like that and the owner of everything would be! Are you the one who sees this mud as superior to me? The being you made superior in sight?” The Hoca couldn’t have said this; it was clear those infidels had entered the Hoca’s body. The Hoca suddenly fainted. I was still in shock. After pulling myself together, I lifted the Hoca. When he woke up and heard what happened, he started crying. “How could the great Mustafa Hoca fall into their trap?” he sobbed bitterly.
We went together to check on my mother. She was lying on the couch, the ropes untied. What was happening was really not normal. As we wondered what to do, the morning call to prayer was recited. A silence fell upon the house, as if all the jinn had left with the adhan. I thanked God; He had come to our rescue. We had a peaceful day that day.
We buried my grandmother the same day. The villagers were afraid of us; they wouldn’t even greet us. You know village places; nothing stays secret. Rumors that we were possessed were spreading everywhere. We returned home again. It was now essential to finish this matter completely. Mustafa Hoca turned to me and said, “The evil ones turned out tougher than I thought, son. This time we will try a different ritual. We will need the help of the Nusaybin jinn too; I will try to contact them as well.” He asked me to collect the glass shards scattered on the floor from when the stone was thrown yesterday and bring them to him. He himself would do something to contact the Nusaybin jinn.
I went to the living room, carefully collected the broken glass pieces, and entered the room where Mustafa Hoca was. The Hoca said, “I have contacted the Nusaybin jinn; they will gather and come. Let’s begin the ritual.” He started a ritual using the glass pieces as well, reciting prayers one after another. Only two minutes had passed when whispers started rising around us. The glass pieces began to levitate, spin, and make small cuts on various parts of our bodies. Mustafa Hoca stopped his recitation and called out to me: “If you want to be free from the evil ones, you must endure, son! Because these jinn gain strength by frightening people and making them suffer!” he said. Then, a pitch-black scorpion came from under the door. Mustafa Hoca took a piece of glass in his hand, said “Allahu Akbar!” and stabbed the scorpion with the glass piece. A pitch-black smoke emerged from the scorpion and dissipated. Such a sound came out that the house literally shook. Then another scorpion came. He shouted at it too and pierced it with prayer-infused glass pieces. After both scorpions died, there was silence.
I went to check on my mother. She wasn’t there! I looked everywhere in the house, but she was gone! It was terrifying! The evil ones had kidnapped my mother! I couldn’t lose my mother! Crying, I went to Mustafa Hoca and said, “Hocam, my mother is gone! Please find her! Please find her, hocam!” Mustafa Hoca immediately ran to the window, pointed somewhere with someone, saying, “There she is, son! We must go immediately!” When I looked where he pointed, I saw my mother being dragged, her two legs in the air, her head on the ground, but the entities holding her were invisible! It was a terrifying sight!
Taking a few ritual materials, we ran into the forest late at night. We advanced through the forest for about 15 minutes but found no trace of my mother. As we moved through the pitch darkness, whisper sounds started coming from all around us. Mustafa Hoca began taking the materials we brought from his bag. He took out the white salt from a jar, poured it somewhere, creating a circle. He was shouting prayers loudly. He put me inside the circle and said, “Son! Outside this circle is very dangerous! The evil ones have surrounded us! Even if you see your mother, do not step out of this circle! They will play with our minds to get us out of this circle! Resist, son!” he said. At that moment, the evil ones began to manifest themselves as dark shadows. They were everywhere! Mustafa Hoca continuously shouted prayers. All the trees around started to catch fire and burn, but strangely, no smoke came out. The place was like hell!
At that moment, I started hearing my mother’s voice in my ears. Crying, she was saying, “Son, help me! Save me!” I looked around, but my mother was nowhere to be seen. I only heard her voice. Her pleading cries were tormenting me. Just as I was about to step out of the circle, the Hoca placed his hand on my chest, stopping me. He continued to recite prayers. “Hocam, my mother is calling, don’t you hear?” I said. He paused his recitation and said, “My son, as I told you, they are playing with your mind! I don’t hear your mother’s voice! The moment you step out of the circle, you die! Don’t fall for their trick!” he said. I didn’t listen to him and stepped outside the circle. Immediately, a terrifying-looking entity appeared right next to me, and my body started convulsing as if electrocuted! Mustafa Hoca recited louder, grabbed my arm, and pulled me back into the circle. After that moment, I remember lying semi-conscious inside the circle, watching my surroundings. My ears felt deaf. Then darkness…
When I came to, I heard the sound of the morning call to prayer being recited in the village. Mustafa Hoca was beside me. “It’s over, son, we are saved by Allah’s permission,” he said. I sat up from where I lay, trying to understand what had happened. “Hocam, what happened?” I asked. Mustafa Hoca began to explain: “After you fainted, the ifrits multiplied and surrounded us. I had weakened; I was about to give up when the Nusaybin jinn came to our aid. There was a great battle, son. Thanks be to our Lord, the Muslims won,” he said. Crying, I asked, “Hocam, what about my mother? What happened to her?” Mustafa Hoca smiled, “Your mother, son… The jinn who came to help rescued your mother first and helped her return home,” he said. I hugged the Hoca and said, “May Allah be pleased with you, hocam! What would have become of me without you?”
We quickly went home. My mother was there! She was saved! I ran, hugged, and kissed her. Months passed after the incident; they didn’t even come into my dreams again. My mother and I live peacefully. Be careful out there…
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