The Sarcophagus Curse | True Horror Story
True Horror Story Summary: A cursed sarcophagus found by treasure-hunting friends in Samsun Çarşamba triggers terrifying events. This horror story tells of a missing friend and an inexplicable curse.
I reside in Istanbul, but I’m originally from Çarşamba, Samsun. I inherited a fascination for treasure hunting from my family. Knowing that some relatives in our lineage had found treasure in the past fueled my enthusiasm even more. I had three friends in Istanbul who were just as keen on treasure hunting as I was. For years, we traveled to different parts of Turkey searching for treasure. It had become a passion for us, but apart from minor items that could be considered historical artifacts, we hadn’t found anything significant.
A few years ago, while visiting my hometown for a holiday, I heard rumors about a sarcophagus located on a mountain within the borders of Çarşamba. When I returned to Istanbul, I brought up the topic with my friends. They were all excited by this information because usually, wealthy individuals were buried in such sarcophagi. In those times, nobles and the rich were often buried with their possessions.
As planned, one Tuesday, my three friends and I set off for Samsun Çarşamba. Our journey, which started in the morning, ended around 11 PM. Since we had the necessary tools and detectors with us, it wouldn’t take long to find the treasure if it was indeed there as rumored. The four of us split up on the mountain and began our search. Each of us had walkie-talkies to communicate. This way, we could notify each other if one of us found something or encountered a wild animal.
After a while, a voice came through the walkie-talkie. It wasn’t clear, mixed with static. Listening carefully, I could make it out. When I pointed my detector forward, I got a signal. Filled with fear and excitement, I immediately radioed my friends, but only static came through. Clearly, the walkie-talkies weren’t working reliably. I quickly signaled with my flashlight, as we had agreed upon in the old way. This signal meant “Come to me.” My friends Yakup and Sefa arrived, but Ferhat was nowhere to be seen. I signaled again with the light, and a signal came back from the distance. This signal meant “I can’t come right now, I’ve found something.” I told my friends, “There’s something here, let’s dig.”
After about 2 hours of digging, we uncovered an ancient sarcophagus with Hebrew inscriptions on it. “This is it! We finally found it!” we exclaimed excitedly. Together, we immediately lifted the lid of the sarcophagus. We had finally achieved our goal. Two urns, likely filled with gold, were looking back at us. Since these types of gold-filled urns remain sealed for years, they accumulate poisonous gas (known as arsenic poisoning), so we didn’t open them right away. We took the urns out. While laughing joyfully, we signaled Ferhat with the flashlight, but there was no response. “Did something happen to him? He hasn’t come to us for hours,” we muttered as we started walking.
We were startled by a voice on the walkie-talkie. It was Ferhat’s voice, saying: “You forgot me in the sarcophagus!” We dropped the urns and ran back, looking inside the sarcophagus. Ferhat was lying inside, wrapped in a shroud with strange symbols on it. Suddenly, he opened his eyes and shouted, “You forgot me!” “What the hell is this?!” We were all pale with fear. We gathered together, reciting prayers. The urns were gone from where we left them. My friends started crying. Trying to remain calm, I said, “Let’s go back and check the sarcophagus again.” With me in the lead and my friends behind, we went back and looked. The sarcophagus was empty. Neither the urns nor Ferhat were anywhere to be found. We searched for our friend for hours but couldn’t find him.
We went to the nearest village and called the gendarmerie (rural police). Before the gendarmerie arrived, a villager came excitedly, calling out to the village headman, “Uncle Hasan, Uncle Hasan! I was coming from the field, I saw a body by the roadside!” We rushed to the scene. It was a flat area 3-4 kilometers away from the sarcophagus. Yes, as we suspected, it was Ferhat. He had wounds as if attacked by a wild animal, but he wasn’t dead as the villager thought; he was lying unconscious.
Time passed. We all swore off treasure hunting. Ferhat remembers nothing about that night. When the gendarmerie arrived, they initiated proceedings against us for illegal treasure hunting.
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