Nepal Black Magic Story: The Kichkandi of the Empty Village

The mountain people of Nepal have certain rules that are written in no book. This Nepal black magic story begins with the first of them, and it is told in the voice of the storyteller who received it from a woman named Aarti. These rules are very secret. Nobody tells them to you, nobody teaches them. One of them is this: if someone calls your name in the dark at night, do not answer. However familiar the voice, even if it sounds like someone from your own home. Whatever happens, do not turn around and look back. Whatever happens, do not follow that voice.

The Rule of the Mountains

Now let me tell you where this rule came from. Imagine a man walking alone in the dusk. It is a little late, and he only wants to reach home. Just then he hears a sound. Someone is calling him by name, from down the road. The voice is sweet, but very sorrowful, as if someone is asking for help. And that voice felt very familiar to him. Perhaps his wife’s, or his sister’s, his brother’s, or some woman he knew in life. He stopped. He looked toward the sound. In the distance among the bushes a woman stood in white clothes, long hair, her face slightly lowered. She was beckoning him with her hand. Without thinking anything, the man began to walk toward the woman. His feet moved toward that voice by themselves, as if he were a robot that had received a command. After a while he reached the place where the woman had been standing. And when his eyes fell on her feet, that this woman’s feet were backwards, heels in front and toes behind, it was already far too late. After that, nobody ever saw that man again.

In Nepal the name of this being, this ghost, this woman, is Kichkandi. I will tell you more about her later, so that you understand the whole story, and why it is so sorrowful and so terrifying, especially for men, and among them especially married men. But for now, for today’s story, remember only this: she calls you in a voice. The imitation is such that you are certain you know that person’s voice in real life. And whoever answers that call, or goes toward it, never comes back.

Today’s story was sent to us by Aarti. I will tell it exactly the way she sent it, with no spice added. And let me say in advance that on the night of this story, in the place where it happened, Aarti and her husband returned safely. They survived that night. But coming back alive and truly being saved from something are two different things. Why that is, you will understand at the end of the story. So let us begin.

Aarti and Rohan

Aarti and Rohan had been married for about two years. An ordinary couple living in Delhi. Rohan was an engineer, a very practical, logical man. For him it was very important that everything have a reasonable explanation. He used to say there was nothing in the world that science or logic could not explain. When leaves suddenly blow somewhere or many birds fly up at once, that does not mean there is a ghost or some presence there. To Rohan it meant that for some scientific reason these things happen, and he always looked for the explanation.

But Aarti was the exact opposite. She felt things. Her grandmother had told her many stories as a child, and the fear and respect from that still sit inside Aarti. She was one of those people who can enter a place and say, something is not right here. And Rohan always laughed at her for it. Their relationship before marriage, by the way, is not so important for the story, but I will say it was long, six years. After the wedding plans began they became so busy that the trips they used to take in their dating days stopped. They had not even been able to take a proper honeymoon. First, the wedding had cost both families a lot of money. Second, they both worked and could not get leave.

So they made a decision. They said, let us work for a few months, save properly, not order instant delivery food, not eat out, live on a budget. And this time they decided to visit Nepal. Their budget was not fancy. They wanted a budget trip, they did not even want a beach. They only wanted peace, to complete the honeymoon, and to visit some hill place. Because it was a budget trip, Rohan did all the planning, the itinerary, everything, online, choosing very good prices. A flight from India to Nepal, a hotel, and a home stay in Nepal. Everything on his phone, choosing the cheapest option. And he kept reassuring Aarti, saying, “Everything is set, I will manage it all, you just chill and come with me.”

Read more: [LINK: Nepal Black Magic Story: The Doll Hidden in an Egg]

The Driver Who Would Not Go On

They reached Kathmandu. The first two days were very good. They toured Kathmandu, saw temples, walked in the markets, and ate good food. Aarti says they were so happy that it did not even feel like anything could go wrong on this trip. But on the third day of the trip they had to go from Kathmandu toward the hills, toward the home stay Rohan had booked online, that cheap booking. This place was in the direction of Pokhara. But deep inside Pokhara, in the very depths of the hills. A very isolated place. We have understood that Rohan was saving money, and I do not blame him for it. But here, to go from Kathmandu toward Pokhara, Rohan did one more cheap thing. Instead of taking a bus or a proper taxi, he found a local man who agreed to take them cheaply from Kathmandu toward Pokhara, all the way to their home stay. This small decision was so important for the two of them that they did not understand it at the time.

Because now they were going with someone they knew nothing about. They were not on a bus, or anywhere with many people, not in a shared public vehicle. It also meant that the two of them were now alone with a man. Only the two of them, an unknown driver and one car that had set out on the hill road. On the way the driver stopped the car at one or two places, for food and for tea. And here Aarti first began to feel a little strange. There was a small dhaba where they stopped, and an old man was sitting there. When he heard that these two were going toward the interior hills, he only said, “Child, do not stay there at night. Whatever place you are going to, reach it before dark.” Rohan asked, “Why, Baba, why do you say that?” The old man did not answer directly. He only looked at his tea and said slowly, “If someone calls you at night, do not turn and answer.”

Hearing this Rohan went and sat in the car, laughing loudly as he talked to Aarti. He was also telling Aarti and the driver, “See, this is how the people here are with tourists. Every village, every place has its own witch.” For the whole ride he only joked about this. But Aarti, hearing that old uncle’s words, had become very afraid, and sat quiet throughout the trip. Because she still remembered that old uncle’s eyes. That uncle was not lying. He was warning these two. But still she told Rohan nothing about it, because she knew Rohan would probably laugh at her as before.

As the car went on, as the driver took them deeper in, the hill road became more and more deserted. Now think of what a hill road is like. Narrow and winding. And in the hills night falls very quickly. When the sun goes a little behind the peak, it is night within five or ten minutes. And that day, to their misfortune, fog had come down. So much fog that even with the headlights on it was no use. The driver’s speed dropped and he kept leaning forward to see the road. After about an hour he suddenly stopped the car and said that he would not go any further after this place. He said the road was bad, he was now afraid to drive. He said the village was a little further, ten or fifteen minutes’ walk, and he wanted to turn back from here.

Rohan argued a lot with that driver, “You cannot leave us in the middle of the road like this. We have luggage, many bags.” But the driver would not agree at all. He said, “Babuji, I love my life very much. You do one thing, take half the money back from me. But I will not go any further from this place.” He unloaded their luggage, turned the car around and left, leaving the two of them alone on this road.

Now they stood with their bags on a deserted hill road, fog all around, and darkness not far off. Aarti says that then, when they got down there, fear for the first time settled in her. But again she told Rohan nothing. And because Rohan was a practical man, he did not think much about the car leaving them. He took out his phone torch, told Aarti to take out hers too, and walked ahead with the torch pointed at the road. They walked in the direction the driver had said, “Your village will come in ten or fifteen minutes this way.” After walking a while, indeed in fifteen or twenty minutes they reached a village. A light was visible from far away. A village. Small houses, lamps burning in a few, faint light coming through windows. Aarti says seeing that light, her life came back into her body: come on, we have reached a village, surely there are people here.

The House That Was Waiting

But as they came close to the village, something was not right. The village was completely silent. No people outside, no dogs, no children playing. No sound at all came from the whole village. Only lamps burning in a few houses. Rohan took out the address of the home stay he had booked online, and they began to look for it. They found a house matching the photo, its door slightly open. Rohan knocked and called, “Is anyone there? Hello!” But no answer came from inside.

Here these two did what any tired person does. They lifted their bags, and finding nobody, went inside the house. But the sight inside the house was even stranger than outside in the village. A faint fire was burning in the stove. Food was kept on one side, as if it had just been cooked. Beds were laid for two. Everything was as if someone was living in this very house and had just stepped out for two minutes. For the first time Rohan too felt it was strange, why so many things were kept here. But then he explained it to himself: this is a home stay, perhaps self-service type, the owner is somewhere nearby, two or three minutes away. He has arranged everything for us, or thinks the owner will come in the morning. He told Aarti, “Come, we are tired, let us eat and go quietly to sleep. Tomorrow is a big day for us. I will give the rest of the half payment for this home stay to the owner tomorrow morning.”

Aarti did not actually feel right about this, because entering someone’s house like this was not right, and paying money without permission either. But she was so tired then that not much came to her mind, and she did not argue with Rohan. She too put her bag in the bedroom. They came to the dining table, ate, and went to bed right after eating.

There was one more thing that later made Aarti very uneasy as she lay in bed. Before sleeping Aarti was looking at photos on Rohan’s phone. But when she opened the booking app on Rohan’s phone, no booking for this house was showing. Actually there was no booking at all in Rohan’s booking app. Or she thought maybe it was some glitch. No date was showing either. And in that village there was no network. So the thought kept coming into Aarti’s head, when Rohan found the location of this place at the start, without internet, without network, how did he find it? She wanted to tell Rohan this too, but again fell silent, because they were very tired. So she did not think much more, and went to sleep.

The Voice at the Door

That night both were so tired that they fell asleep as soon as they got into bed after eating. On top of that the room was very warm, cold air was coming in from outside, and over everything was complete silence. So much silence that you could hear a mosquito flying near your ear. But does a tired person pay attention to this? They only need to sleep.

But suddenly, who knows how many hours had passed, Aarti woke up. She had perhaps heard something in a dream, or perhaps in reality. At that moment she herself could not tell whether it was a dream or real. She lay quietly. She pulled the blanket up and kept telling herself, this is the wind, I did not hear any sound. She thought, it is an old wooden house, wood creaks in the wind. But then suddenly she heard it again. Aarti. And there was no doubt left. That was not the wind. Someone was calling her by name. The sound was coming from outside, from the other side of that closed door. And do you know what the worst thing was? That voice did not belong to some stranger. It was familiar. It was Rohan’s voice. Her own husband’s voice. But Rohan was right next to her in deep sleep. She could touch him, feel his pulse, hear his breathing as he slept. So how could Rohan’s voice come from outside the door?

Now you think about it yourselves. You are lying at night with your brother or sister, the door of your room closed. Suddenly from outside your room you hear your brother’s voice, or your sister’s. What would your state be then? Aarti says in one second all the courage in her vanished. But still, gathering a lot of courage, with great difficulty, she got out of bed and tiptoed very quietly to the door. Why? Because her mind still refused to accept that I had heard Rohan’s voice from outside. She only wanted to be sure whether I had heard that in my sleep. Fortunately she did not open the door. She only went to the door and stood there, putting her ear to it to listen. And just then, from the other side of the door, the voice came again, “Aarti, open the door.”

After this Aarti did not think anything. She ran back and began to shake Rohan. “Rohan, Rohan, get up, please get up!” Rohan woke with a start, annoyed at being woken, “What happened, what happened?” There were tears in Aarti’s eyes. She could only say, “Outside, someone is outside, calling my name again and again in your voice.” Since Rohan had just woken from sleep, for a second he was silent. But then he did exactly what he always did. He began to laugh at Aarti. He said, “You were dreaming, come, I will see who is outside. Come with me, there is nobody there.” He was a logical man, he needed an explanation for everything. Holding Aarti’s hand in one hand, Rohan opened the door with the other.

Outside was only darkness. There was nothing there. No sound, no person. The whole village was silent, as if holding its breath. Rohan went two steps outside, looked around. Then he came back. He said, “See, nothing there, you were mistaken, come, go to sleep, as soon as it is morning we are leaving, all right?” He made Aarti laugh, petted her and joked a little, so that her mood would lift and she would feel normal. Doing all this, he sent Aarti toward the bedroom.

But as Aarti went from the hallway toward the bedroom, Rohan stood where he had come back from the main gate. Not moving at all, keeping his eyes down. And then he saw something on the wall of the house. It is truly unfortunate that I cannot tell you exactly what Rohan saw there, because Rohan himself could not say. He said that the night was so deep and the house so dark that he could not make out anything clearly. But he only said that there was a shape on the wall. A face and a body, where there should be no face at all, in the very corner of the wall. And that shape was not moving. But the way it seemed to move was something no human being could do.

Rohan’s mind could not even process how what he was seeing from the corner of his eye could be possible. Even so he could not turn his head. Something inside him, some very ancient fear, some animal instinct, was saying, do not look straight in that direction, keep looking this way. As if, if he looked that thing in the eye, it would become real, or that ghost would truly rush at Rohan and eat him completely. So Rohan kept looking out of the corner of his eye. His body was completely straight, as if he were a statue. And slowly, without the sound of footsteps, he began to walk toward the room. Without once looking directly at that shape, that woman climbing along the wall. Aarti told us later that for Rohan then, every step felt like a year. Time had become that slow.

He went into the room and, closing the door, ran in one dash to the bed. Aarti was lying on the bed then, shaking badly with fear. Rohan saw that Aarti was very frightened, so he told Aarti nothing. How could he say a single word? If he had told Aarti anything, Aarti would have broken down completely, and then screaming and crying would have been very dangerous for both of them. So he kept everything inside himself. He held Aarti, pulled the blanket over her head and said, “Nothing will happen, do not worry, I am with you. You do just one thing: keep your eyes closed, and until it is morning do not open them, not even by mistake. I am right here.”

That night they counted every second holding their breath, when would it be morning, when would we get out of this night. Nobody slept that night. Both knew there was something outside, but neither confirmed it to the other. At first Aarti was hearing Rohan’s voice. But after a while Rohan too began to hear Aarti’s voice from outside, and also the voice of his own sister, who was calling Rohan’s name again and again. Sometimes the voices came from right at the door, sometimes from the end of the hallway. Once, I told you, they pulled the blanket close over their heads, once they felt that the voice was standing right beside their bed, calling them by name. But the two of them held each other, and not once did they open their eyes.

Morning in the Ruined Village

After who knows how many hours, a little light fell on the wall. Morning was slowly coming. For the first time all night the voices stopped. And thank God the sun rose. As soon as there was a little light the two of them got up. Now I will tell you what they saw in the morning, because seeing it made both of them lose their senses.

The room they had been in all night, where they ate, where they slept, was not at all as they had seen it at night. No fire was burning in the stove, only cold old ashes lay there, as if nothing had happened there for years. The food that had seemed fresh at night was nowhere. Plaster was falling off the walls. In one corner of the roof was a big crack, and the wood in this house had rotted. Nobody was living in this house, rather nobody had even come here for years. The house had been shut for years.

They ran out of there, because anyone would be afraid on seeing this house, right? One moment before, at night, you think what a lovely home stay, and in the morning you see it is a ruin. As soon as they came out of the house they saw that the village too was not as they had seen it at night. The lamps that had been burning at night were not there now. The houses that had seemed full of light at night were now only broken, empty frames. Grass had grown everywhere, and termites had got into the doors. Some houses had roofs that had fallen in completely. This village was not alive. This village had died long ago.

Aarti says that not one word passed between them then. They only picked up their bags, went back along the road where the driver had dropped them, and walked on looking down. They did not even turn to look toward this village, this house, this home stay. I think they did the right thing.

What the Old Woman Said

After about two or three hours’ walk they finally saw a small village where there were really people, really shops, really vehicles. And when Aarti saw real people walking here, she could not hold herself any longer and began to sob. She ran and sat in a tea shop. Those who were there were alarmed seeing this, why was this girl crying like this! Then Aarti told them everything, the whole story of the previous night. How they had found a house that was warm, where there was food. But at night how they had heard voices, and in the morning how the whole village had turned into ruins. And the more the two of them told their story to the villagers, the quieter and more silent the people there became.

Among those people was an elderly woman. She put her tea down from her hand, looked at Aarti and said, “You came back from that village in the morning? And alive?” Without saying anything, Aarti nodded yes. Then what this old woman said was the most terrifying part of the story. She said that the village where you were had been emptied many years ago. It is said that some disease had spread there once and many died, and those who survived left the village. Since then nobody lives there. But one thing stayed there, one thing was left behind. It was a woman. It is said her death was very bad, unfulfilled, and her spirit could not leave that place. People call her Kichkandi.

And then the old woman told those rules that I told you at the beginning of the story. She said that Kichkandi looks for lone travellers in the dark of dusk. She makes those houses look alive again, lights lamps, so that some tired traveller will come inside. And her greatest power is her voice. She calls in the voice of the person you trust most. Because she knows that hearing the voice of someone close you will surely open the door. And if you answer her voice once, if you go in that direction even once, she takes you with her. Her feet are backwards, heels in front, toes behind, and that is her identity.

Up to here, since they were telling their own story, Rohan had also told this old woman what he had seen on the wall at night, thinking that this old woman knew everything. And then one thing clicked in Aarti’s mind: that shape Rohan had seen on the wall at night, moving so strangely, Rohan had never properly seen its feet, because Rohan had only looked down and had not turned to look that way. But from the way Rohan described how it moved on the wall, Aarti understood it could not be any human.

Then, consoling them and feeding them, the old woman told Aarti that that night the two of them had done two things very right, and perhaps because of these two things they had truly been able to come back alive. One, they had not answered that call, I mean they had not replied to it in their own voice. And two, what Rohan had done right: first, he had not looked straight at that being, at that shape. And second, that night he had told Aarti nothing about it, because if Aarti had panicked and screamed, that too would have been a kind of answer to that being, to that woman, to Kichkandi, and then she would surely not have let these two go. So they were saved. They finished their trip quickly, I mean they ended it early, and this time they came back to Delhi.

After the Honeymoon

After this Aarti says, for a few months everything was normal, and Aarti too felt that everything was going normally, we have been saved, nothing will happen to us now. But moving on, moving on from something, is not so easy. Aarti says that a few months later she noticed something strange in Rohan’s behaviour. Sometimes at night Rohan would get up. In his sleep he would get up and begin to walk straight toward the main door of the house. The first time Aarti thought maybe he was sleepwalking, tiredness, stress. But it began to happen again and again, and each time the same thing. Rohan would get up, go and stand at the door, as if waiting for someone, as if someone was calling him outside. And each time Aarti holds him, calls his name again and again and brings him back to her.

And now let me make clear what I said at the start of the story, that coming back alive and being saved are two different things. Look, because on that night in that village Kichkandi had called them into her own house. They had eaten her food, slept under her roof, and Rohan for a moment had seen that shape. So that night they were saved, yes, but it is said that whoever hears Kichkandi’s voice even once, a small part of his heart belongs to Kichkandi forever. He always longs for her, waits for her, when will she come and take me. And what happened to Aarti? Rohan is in that state. Aarti still cannot sleep properly at night, because she fears that one night Kichkandi might truly come here and truly call Rohan to herself, and then there will be nobody to stop him, and Rohan will go far away from her. In this fear, of losing Rohan, she cannot sleep properly at night.

This was Aarti’s story. And hearing this story I was really so frightened, because I too have begun to travel a lot now, and I too make many bookings online. We never know what the history of the place we have booked or are going to is, what has happened there, whether there is any presence or ghost, and which things should be checked carefully. The story ends here.