The Jinn Wedding in the Cemetery | A True Horror Story

Horror Story: A true jinn incident in an Azerbaijani mountain village. A chilling story narrated by grandmother about grandfather’s terrifying encounters, his lost son, and a hoca’s intervention.

This event I’m about to tell happened long ago in a mountain village in Azerbaijan. This story is a jinn incident that occurred during my late grandfather’s youth. My grandmother, that is, my grandfather’s wife (ninem), told it to me.

In those days, my grandfather made a living by herding sheep in the mountains. They lived happily by selling the milk, meat, and wool from the sheep. There was a very large mountainous area where my grandfather grazed his sheep. Even now, when I visit the village, we go there. My grandfather would take the sheep out in the morning and bring them back in the evening.

One morning, very early, after performing the morning prayer, he went out to graze the sheep in the mountains. That day, he wandered the mountains and hills with the sheep until evening. Around ten o’clock in the evening, while returning home, he came to the edge of the large cemetery located about 250-300 meters from the house. As he walked in the pitch darkness, he suddenly heard sounds coming from the cemetery; it sounded like a wedding, with drums and zurna (a type of flute) playing. While thinking, “Who would have a wedding at this hour, and in a cemetery?” great fear gripped him. My grandfather took the rifle from his belt and slowly advanced towards where the wedding sounds were coming from.

Just as he moved from his spot, he saw the sheep scattering as if startled by something, and his dog started running towards the cemetery, whining very sharply. After these events, his fear doubled. He recited the Besmele and started reading Ayetel Kürsi, then proceeded towards the source of the wedding sounds.

My grandfather was terrified by what he saw. Ahead, he saw seven or eight figures screaming, shouting, and dancing in front a large fire, saying things in Arabic. Reciting verses (surahs), he watched those human-like entities. After watching for two or three minutes, he experienced a second shock: he saw that one of these entities was wearing one of the outfits his wife, my grandmother, always wore! He was struck dumb with fear.

My poor grandfather, barely pulling himself together, gathered the sheep and brought them home. But he didn’t tell my grandmother anything to avoid alarming and scaring her. When he arrived home, the fear he had experienced was very evident on his face. Noticing this, my grandmother asked repeatedly, but my grandfather insisted nothing was wrong, only that he was tired. My grandfather said he felt sleepy without even eating and went to bed. Of course, my grandmother was suspicious of his behavior but said nothing.

My grandmother got up in the night to use the toilet. When she returned, she heard my grandfather talking in his sleep, gasping as if choking, saying things like, “Leave me alone! Please don’t! Don’t kill me!” My grandmother woke him up and asked, “You’re hiding something from me. What happened? Aren’t you going to tell me?” My grandfather again said nothing was wrong, just that he had a nightmare. My grandmother recited some prayers and blew on him; my grandfather went back to sleep.

About 2-3 hours passed. My grandfather got up, performed the morning prayer, and again took his sheep out to graze in the mountains. As usual, he wandered the mountains and hills with the sheep until evening. His mind was very troubled; he couldn’t get what he saw the previous night out of his head.

Evening came again; around nine o’clock, he was bringing the sheep home. Since it was the middle of summer back then, the sky wasn’t completely dark at nine in the evening. My grandfather gathered the sheep near a stream-like place for them to drink water. As the sheep approached the stream to drink, just like the previous night near the cemetery, they started to flee as if startled by something. This time, my grandfather’s heart tightened; he felt like he was about to die from fear. Just as he wanted to abandon the animals and run, he heard a woman’s voice calling him by his name.

When he turned around towards the direction of the voice, he was struck dumb by what he saw. Standing before my grandfather was a terrifying-looking entity with long hair, skin like it was burnt, black and pointed teeth, and large empty eye sockets, staring at him. He froze on the spot; he could neither move nor speak. He couldn’t even recite a prayer out of fear. That entity moved with extraordinary speed and appeared right next to him. In a very irritating and disgusting tone of voice, it said, “That child you love so much is dead!” Then it let out another vile scream and disappeared.

My grandfather fainted right there. He opened his eyes in his father’s house, who was also a shepherd. When he came to his senses after a while, he told the shepherd everything that had happened. The shepherd told my grandfather that this matter was very dangerous and that he should consult the village’s hoca (religious scholar/imam). What the shepherd said seemed logical, so he entrusted his fifteen sheep to the shepherd and then returned home.

When he arrived home, he saw my grandmother crying and screaming in pain. Seeing the neighbors also at the house, my grandfather could more or less guess what had happened. He immediately went to my grandmother and tried to calm her down. After she calmed down a bit, she told him, crying, that their 12-year-old son had been missing for 7 hours and still hadn’t returned home.

My grandfather gathered the villagers and started searching. Devastated, they searched until morning but couldn’t find his son. He returned home heartbroken, rested a bit, and then started searching again on the second day. They entered a cave quite far from the village. After what my grandfather saw in the cave, he couldn’t speak or walk for two days.

When they first entered the cave, they smelled an unbearable stench. The villagers didn’t want to enter because of the smell, but my grandfather had a bad feeling. “If you’re not coming, don’t come! I’ll look!” he said and rushed inside. Lighting the end of a piece of wood he carried, he advanced a little with the firelight and saw parts of a child’s corpse. The clothes on it were his son’s. Next to the child’s body, when he turned the fire to the left, he encountered his son’s head. He fainted afterwards. Seeing that my grandfather hadn’t come out, the villagers got worried, entered the cave, witnessed the horrific scene, and carried my grandfather out unconscious.

When my grandmother received the tragic news and saw the body brought to the village in that state, she fell ill and took to her bed. She cursed those who did this to her child, the joy of their home. After burying my uncle, my grandfather started having terrible nightmares. In his dream, the entity he saw by the stream was trampling his child’s dismembered corpse under its foot, saying, “I told you later, was our wedding too much? Your child is in pieces!” My grandfather saw this dream every day, reaching the point of madness, and jumped out of bed in fear every time.

These nightmares lasted for a month. After they recovered a bit, my grandfather sat my grandmother down and told her everything he had experienced. As he described the horrific nightmares, my grandmother sobbed uncontrollably. He told my grandmother they needed to go to the hoca the shepherd had mentioned. The next morning, they went to the hoca. Arriving at his house, they knocked and waited a while, then the hoca opened the door and invited them in. After the hoca offered condolences for their child, my grandfather recounted all the events he had experienced. After listening silently, the hoca asked my grandmother, “Did you suddenly pour water onto a fire to extinguish it, or did you pour boiling water anywhere without reciting the Besmele?” My grandmother said she couldn’t remember. The hoca said he would prepare a ritual in the evening to communicate with that jinn and find out the reason.

That evening, my grandmother and grandfather went to the hoca’s house again. After sitting and chatting for a bit, the hoca took them into a dark room. He himself entered a few minutes later with a book in his hand. After entering, he took four candles out of his pocket, drew a circle in the middle of the room, and then placed the candles in a square shape around the circle. After finishing with the candles, he read something from the book in a loud voice. The candle flames suddenly flared up. Shortly after, a shadowy entity appeared on the wall. The hoca asked the entity that appeared, “O jinn! What do you want from these Sons of Adam?” The jinn pointed at my grandmother and said, “The end product child stood, I sat on that child!” laughing vilely, and then added, “I will be your rebellion too!” Hearing this, the hoca read something onto a piece of paper and held it to the fire. According to him, he killed the jinn.

My grandfather passed away 3-4 years after this incident. My grandmother, thank God, is still alive, but she tells us that even though forty years have passed since the event, she still lives with the sorrow in a corner of her heart.

So, brother, that was my story. I told you exactly what I heard from my grandmother’s mouth. I would appreciate it if you publish it.

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