When my wife and I first moved into the apartment block in Singapore, we were drawn to its peculiar charm. It was a 17-story building, once owned by an affluent Malay family. But stepping into our new home, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the charm came at a cost. The apartment was suffused with an old, oppressive aura, as though the past lingered in every corner. The antique furniture, beautifully crafted yet ominously weathered, seemed to hold secrets in its intricate carvings. The walls were painted in an unsettling combination of red and green floral patterns, their vibrant colors somehow discordant with the apartment's dim, heavy atmosphere. One room in particular stood out—the locked room. Our landlord was adamant that we not touch it or use anything from within. His vague warnings sent a chill through us, but we complied, leaving it undisturbed. Still, its presence loomed large, an unspoken specter that weighed on the entire apartment. As the days turned to nig...
This site comprises of "2minhorrorstories", true experiences of horror, supernatural, dark magic experienced by individuals like you and me, in and around rural areas. Short Stories narrated by your grandparents, your parents, your uncle, your distant cousin, your hostel warden, your building's security guard, your childhood friends, while standing in the parking lot, while covered in warm quilt during a cold winter night, or while drinking warm tea standing in the corner of the market street.