The Secret in the Tomb | Paranormal Story
Paranormal Story | Mysterious events in the village saint’s tomb and the chilling story of the cursed bride haunting the reed creek. A true village legend and a personal confrontation.
Hello, what I am about to tell you is a true incident that occurred in our village. I will tell it by changing the region. Our village is connected to a district in the Black Sea region. Once upon a time, a saint lived here, and after his death, a tomb was built. We call it Dede Türbesi (Grandfather’s Tomb). If you ask why we gave it this name, it’s because the place is a bit eerie, and it is said that the saint still lives inside the tomb and only young children can see him.
Every summer I went to the village, I would hear various stories. Frankly, I didn’t really believe these rumors. The villagers took turns cleaning the tomb. They would leave a full ewer of water at the tomb in the evening and find it empty in the morning, they said. They believed that the grandfather in the tomb performed ablution with this water. When I heard this, I would react by saying, “Come on, how could that be possible?”
One summer day when I was in the village, my grandmother came and said, “Son, it’s our turn to clean the tomb. You come too, you can carry these cleaning supplies,” handing me some things. Saying “Okay, grandma,” I went outside to find my older sister ready and waiting. As my grandmother slowly followed behind us with her cane, my sister’s young son, Kuzey, noticed us and started crying after us. While his sister struggled to hold him back, my grandmother called out, “Let him come, daughter.” When my sister said, “Oh grandma, he’s a scary child like they say,” my grandmother replied, “What’s there to be scared of? This blessed one doesn’t frighten children; he appears lovely to them. Nothing will happen,” and took my cousin by the hand. As we walked, I muttered to myself: “So he supposedly sees him… Okay, he might be a blessed person, may God rest his soul, he passed away. These villagers love superstitions. We’ll go now, nothing will happen. Then I’ll tell them, ‘See what happened? Stop these superstitions!’ That ewer must have a hole in it; the villagers are doing this knowingly. Only visible to young children, yeah right…”
Lost in these thoughts, we approached the tomb. We filled the buckets from the fountain on the way and entered the tomb. The tomb was built on a small hill. Since this was the edge of the village, the back side was forested, and a creek flowed nearby. I’ll get to the story of that creek later.
The inside of the tomb consisted of three rooms. In the largest room, there was the grave adorned with green cloths. One of the very small rooms was used as a library. The other room was used like a small prayer room (mescit) where visitors could pray. Inside, there were only prayer rugs, a lectern, and a Quran. While my sister wiped the windows, I dusted the railings around the grave. My nephew Kuzey was running back and forth inside shouting, then suddenly his voice stopped. My sister called out, “Go check on Kuzey, see what he’s doing.” I threw the cloth in my hand into the bucket and headed towards the room used as a prayer room. When I got there, my nephew was standing with his back to me, talking to himself. When I asked, “Kuzey, what are you doing here?” he turned to me and said, “Uncle, look, the grandfather is here. He prayed, now he’s talking to me, smiling at me.”
Knowing this story, I shuddered, but the real shock came when I saw the prayer rug on the floor. Because I had folded that prayer rug and put it on a shelf as I was going to sweep the floors. The shelf was too high for my nephew to reach. I don’t know how I threw myself outside. I must have screamed because my grandmother and sister came running to me in panic. “How can this be? The rumors were true!” As I asked myself these questions, I saw my grandmother looking at my face in panic, saying, “Son, my child, are you okay? Oh God, what happened to this child now?” After I collected myself, I explained what happened. “No need to be scared, son, the blessed one harms no one. Nothing has ever happened to anyone. On the contrary, having witnessed such an event, you should cling tighter to your faith. There is nothing that cannot happen if Allah Wills it,” my grandmother advised.
When we returned home, I went to my bed to rest a little. I couldn’t sleep; I kept thinking about this incident. To clear any doubt in my mind, I needed to do one more thing: I would put the water-filled ewer there myself tonight and stand guard until morning. I thought of asking my cousin Hasan for help. Hasan lived in the village, was my age, but being a village boy, he was more built and braver than me. I immediately got up, went to my uncle’s house a few courtyards down, and called Hasan outside.
After telling Hasan what had happened, I said, “Tonight, I’ll put the full ewer there myself, and I’ll watch from afar until morning. I need to be sure, cousin. Either the ewer is leaky, or someone comes and pours the water out every night?” Hasan smiled and said, “For Kerim’s sake, son, what are we doing in a deserted place at night? Besides, you witnessed it yourself, the grandfather really exists, and the whole village knows it.” I said, “I don’t believe what the villagers say; I need to witness it myself. Maybe I just thought I had picked up the prayer rug in the tomb, but I hadn’t? Maybe this grandfather story stuck in my subconscious because it was talked about around children, couldn’t that be it?” Hasan thought for a moment, then said, “Cousin, that place is near Sazlık Deresi (Reed Creek), you’ll see jinns at night.” “Yes, now I remember the story of Ecrin and the bride. Tell me, what’s this about?” I said. Hasan began to tell the story… (Hacer’s story is in the other document.)
…Although what Hasan told me was frightening, I was determined. I felt an incredible sense of curiosity. I convinced Hasan by promising we wouldn’t go to Reed Creek, just wait near the tomb. The first thing I needed to do was change the ewer. I went home, got an ewer I was sure was intact, and told the mosque imam, who filled the water every evening, that I would fill it tonight. My cousin also brought his double-barreled shotgun from home, just in case. We filled the ewer from the fountain near the tomb and placed it inside together with my cousin. We went to a wooded area a little further away and started waiting.
As the sun slowly set, the sounds of the cicadas died down. It gets cold at night where we live. A few hours passed, and the cardigans we brought weren’t enough to protect us from the cold. The place was so deserted, so quiet, that I thought I could never wait here alone if I had come by myself. Since it was far from the village houses, there wasn’t a single light to illuminate the surroundings. If it weren’t for the faint moonlight, we wouldn’t even be able to see the ewer 50 meters away.
As I stared intently at the ewer, my cousin spoke: “We’ll freeze to death if we stay like this. Let me gather some twigs and branches so we can make a fire. There are wild animals around here too; at least they won’t come near if they see the fire,” he said. “Good idea, cousin, I really didn’t expect it to be this cold. A cold wind is blowing from the forest. This turned into quite an adventure for you too,” I laughed. As my cousin grumbled and gathered twigs from around, my eyes never left the ewer. I thought to myself, “Even if the ewer isn’t leaky, maybe someone comes and pours it out.” The fire we were about to make would scare away anyone if they were there. Maybe we would go and check in the morning, find the ewer full, and I would say, “This is all superstition, don’t believe it!” and my cousin would be my witness.
What pulled me out of these thoughts was noticing movement right behind the tomb. Someone was walking there! “Stop, don’t run!” I shouted and started running. I ignored Hasan shouting behind me, “Stop, don’t go!” Whoever was running from me, I couldn’t see them clearly because it was dark. At that moment, I deeply regretted forgetting to bring a flashlight. A little later, they entered the forest and disappeared. Although filled with fear, I entered the forest after them without knowing why. What was I doing in the pitch-dark forest? Hearing my cousin’s muffled shouts behind me, I walked until I reached the Reed Creek area.
Yes, what was this? A girl of unprecedented beauty stood by the creek. She wore a pure white wedding dress. She extended her left hand towards me and smiled. Oh my God, was that beauty real? The moonlight seemed to illuminate only her. She was so bright, so beautiful… She was calling me. Her voice was like a musical instrument. I couldn’t stop myself; it felt like if I didn’t go to her, I would regret it for the rest of my life, this feeling would kill me. I couldn’t control my feet. As the ice-cold creek water wet my feet, I continued walking towards her. There she was, right in front of me. Her smile was captivating; I couldn’t take my eyes off her pearl-like shining teeth. I held her hand; it felt like touching cotton. Then I felt dizzy, my vision blurred as if my blood pressure dropped. I lowered my head. As I slowly lifted it, I saw that hand. Oh Lord! This hand looked like it belonged to a decaying corpse! I jumped back and saw her face. Her eyes were not in their sockets! Her mouth was open wider than any human could open it, a gray-skinned monstrosity! Her wedding dress was covered in dried blood and mud!
I started screaming and running away. I remembered everything; everything my cousin had told me, the jinn kidnapping the bride, how she was found in the barn… When I entered the forest, it was as if I was enchanted. As I ran through the forest, I heard the sounds of drums and zurna (a type of flute) to my right and left. I was so scared I could barely breathe. I was running from her; she seemed to be everywhere. With a final effort, I threw myself out of the forest. I could see the tomb just ahead. As I ran, I looked back one last time; she was still there, standing rigidly, looking at me. With my last bit of energy, I called out to my cousin, Hasan, but got no response. When I threw myself into the tomb, I experienced a second shock. This couldn’t be! An old man with a white beard was performing ablution with the ewer I had brought!
First, I felt immense shame, then fear gripped me again, and I turned towards the door. The old man called out, “Stop, my child, do not be afraid.” I couldn’t hold back my tears. The old man spoke again, “Read prayers (Dua).” Through his guidance, I prostrated, closed my eyes, and began reciting all the prayers I knew in sequence. With each prayer I recited, the feeling of fear within me lessened slightly. When I opened my eyes, the old man was still in front of me. As I apologized for not believing, he began to speak: “My child, whenever you see her, you will read prayers. Prayer is the believer’s weapon. After you leave here, you will go to Bursa. There is a hodja (religious teacher) named Muhammed there. If you ask at the mosque I name, they will take you to him. He will help you with Allah’s permission,” he said and suddenly disappeared.
Only a few seconds had passed when sounds from outside brought me back to my senses. My cousin, along with the village imam and other villagers, had gathered and come looking for me. When I went outside, he hugged me, crying. All I could say was, “The grandfather was real!”
A few days later, I went to the place the old man mentioned and found Muhammed Hodja. But until I reached him, I saw that bride in many places. Every time I saw her, I recited prayers, and she disappeared. As I was telling Muhammed Hodja what happened, he said, “No need to explain, young man. That venerable person came to me in a dream and informed me of your arrival. I know the matter. We will resolve it with Allah’s permission.” He recited some prayers over me and wrote an amulet (muska). Then he came with us to our village. After visiting the grandfather’s tomb in the village, he asked us to describe the creek where the bride was seen. He went to the creek bank alone, without taking any villagers with him. An hour later, he returned and announced that the incident was now closed and such a situation would not happen again, then he returned to Bursa.
And it was as he said. From that day on, neither I nor anyone else ever saw that bride again. People could go to Reed Creek freely. What the hodja did at the creek bank, we still don’t know.
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