The Ghosts of Sumatra

The Sumatran jungle was alive with the hum of unseen creatures, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying foliage. Sunlight barely penetrated the dense canopy, casting everything in an eerie green twilight. David moved cautiously, his every step deliberate, mindful of the tangled undergrowth and the silent predators that lurked unseen.

He wasn’t alone. Two indigenous trackers, Rano and Siti, guided him through the wilderness. Both were seasoned survivalists, their knowledge of the land invaluable. They spoke in hushed tones, wary of the dangers that lay ahead—not just from the jungle’s inhabitants, but from something far worse.

“The spirits here are restless,” Siti murmured, pausing to examine a broken tree branch. “Something unnatural walks these lands.”