JustUtter 2Min Horror Stories: A Horror Book Series "Bhoota Gappa"

I was probably around 13 years old when I went to one of my aunt's houses in Aali Tehsil,Kendrapada with my niece to spend my summer holidays. I had planned to stay for 2-3 days but ended up staying for a week. Believe me, I was unable to sleep for those seven days. My niece is three years younger than me. My aunt is a widow and has three daughters. One of her daughters was married and wasn’t there. The moment I stepped into their house, I could sense some strange energy and immediately wanted to leave. However, with all the day's events and conversations with my cousins, time flew by, and things started to feel normal. At night, all of us slept in the same big room, and I was right in the middle. In front of the bed was a window with a clear view of their front yard and the neighbor's house. I usually stay up later than others, so at around 2 a.m., I heard a voice—it sounded like a bird or a child calling out someone's name. It seemed to come from the yard, so I got up...

Order Now   " Bhoota Gappa- Part 1 " : Watch The Trailer!! " Bhoota Gappa- Part 2 " :  Watch The Trailer!! Tell us more about the success of Bhoota Gappa?   Sure, the first part was a huge success, I am grateful to all my supporters of JustUtter community, my Odia community across the globe for such warm response. Around 200 copies have been sold at a global level and it has won the heart of millions of young horror lovers by being the best seller in recent "World Book Fair"held on Pragati Maidan, New Delhi as well as the "Goa Book Fair" via  Notion Press and Kharido Becho Shopping.   I am really grateful of this success of bringing the young and older  mass to again be excited of book reading after so long. WOW that's amazing, So What is Part 2 all about? "Bhoota Gappa Part 2" is an extended version of the first part, where the story of Azagka and her siblings continue to be more and more intertwined between parallel wo...

    A mansion, opulent and imposing, now stood where generations of homes had risen and crumbled. Beneath its foundations lay the ghosts of lives lived, a tapestry of joy and, more often, the jagged edges of tragedy. Each brick whispered stories of previous inhabitants, their laughter echoing in the empty halls, their tears staining the very mortar. Death, a constant companion, had stalked these grounds for centuries. One such tale clung to the newly erected walls, the story of a teenage girl visiting her uncle for his housewarming. Her own home, a humble cottage near the fish-filled pond in Jagatsinghpur, Odisha, felt a world away from this sprawling edifice. In her village, an ancient belief persisted: no one should sleep alone in a new house until cleansing rituals had been performed, banishing any lingering spirits trapped within its walls. This new house, however, was smaller than her uncle’s previous residence, and her aunt, overwhelmed by the prospect of hosting n...

ଓଡ଼ିଶାର ଜଟାନୀରେ ଥିବା ମୋ ବନ୍ଧୁଙ୍କ ଘରୁ ଫେରିବା ସମଯ଼ରେ ମୁଁ ରାସ୍ତା ହରାଇଥିଲି। ମୁଁ ମୋ ସାଇକେଲ୍ ଚଳାଇ ଏକ କମ୍ ରକ୍ଷଣାବେକ୍ଷଣ, କାଦୁଅ ରାସ୍ତା ନେଇଥିଲି। ମୁଁ ଦୂରରେ ଏକ ପୁରୁଣା, ଲମ୍ବା ବଟବୃକ୍ଷ ଦେଖିପାରିଲି। ଯେତେବେଳେ ମୁଁ ପାଖରେ ପହଞ୍ଚିଲି, ମୁଁ ଦେଖିଲି ଯେ ଏକ ଖାଲି ଲୁପ୍ ସହିତ ଏକ ଦଉଡ଼ି ଝୁଲୁଛି, ଜୋରରେ ଝୁଲୁଛି ଯେପରି କେହି ଏହାକୁ ନିକଟରେ ବ୍ଯ଼ବହାର କରୁଛନ୍ତି | ଗଛର ଶାଖାଗୁଡ଼ିକ ବହୁତ ମୋଟା ଏବଂ ବୁଦାଳିଆ ଥିଲା | ସୂର୍ଯ୍ଯ଼ାସ୍ତ ପାଖେଇ ଆସୁଥିବା ବେଳେ ଅନ୍ଧାର ମୋ ଆଖିରେ କୌଶଳ ଖେଳିଲା। ମୁଁ ବେଳେବେଳେ ଭାବୁଥିଲି ଯେ ମୁଁ ଶାଖାଗୁଡ଼ିକରେ ମୁହଁ ଦେଖୁଛି, କିନ୍ତୁ ସେଗୁଡ଼ିକୁ ଆଲୋକ ଦ୍ୱାରା ସୃଷ୍ଟି ହୋଇଥିବା ଭ୍ରମ ବୋଲି ପ୍ରତ୍ଯ଼ାଖ୍ଯ଼ାନ କଲି। ହଠାତ୍, ମୁଁ ଅନୁଭବ କଲି ଯେ କେହି ମୋତେ ପଛରୁ ଧରୁଛି। ମୁଁ କାହାକୁ ଦେଖିପାରିଲି ନାହିଁ, କିନ୍ତୁ ଅନୁଭବଟି ବାସ୍ତବ ଥିଲା। ମୁଁ ପବିତ୍ର ମନ୍ତ୍ର ଜପ କରିବା ଆରମ୍ଭ କଲି ଏବଂ ଗତି ବଢ଼େଇଲି। ଯେତେବେଳେ ମୁଁ ପଛକୁ ଚାହିଁଲି, ମୁଁ ଦେଖିଲି କେହି ଜଣେ ଦଉଡ଼ିରେ ଝୁଲୁଛନ୍ତି, ସେମାନଙ୍କର କେଶ ସାଧାରଣ ଅପେକ୍ଷା ଲମ୍ବା, ସିଧାସଳଖ ମୋ ଆଡ଼କୁ ଚାହିଁ ରହିଛନ୍ତି। ଭଯ଼ଭୀତ ହୋଇ ମୁଁ ନିଯ଼ନ୍ତ୍ରଣ ହରାଇ ଦୌଡ଼ିବା ଆରମ୍ଭ କଲି। ମୁଁ ଦେଖିଲି ଜଣେ ବ୍ଯ଼କ୍ତି ଏକ କଳା ଶାଲ ଓଢ଼ୀକୀରି ଠିଆ ହୋଇ ମୋତେ ହାଥ ହଲେଇକି ଡାକୁଚୀ, ଜେମେତି ମୁଁ ପାଖକୁ ଗଲି ଅନୁଭବ କଲି ...

It was the witching hour, 1:00 am, in Raghurajpur, a village famed for the art of pattachitra, when my grandma, along with a fellow villager, embarked on a bone-chilling journey. Their destination: the Kali Puja nearby, but their path, a shortcut through the jungle, was shrouded in an inky blackness, pierced only by their flickering oil lamp. The air hung heavy, thick with the cloying scent of decay and the unsettling silence broken only by the occasional rustle in the unseen undergrowth. Looming ahead, a dilapidated palace, a skeletal silhouette against the starless sky, whispered of a bygone era of opulence. It was here, amidst the crumbling grandeur, that they spotted a flicker of light in the distance. Relief washed over them – perhaps other devotees on their way to the puja. But as they drew closer, a surge of primal terror coursed through their veins. The light emanated not from a fellow pilgrim, but from a creature of nightmare. A monstrous entity, a giant fireball with no eyes,...

The train from Shillong to Kolkata was agonizingly late. Our two families, eight souls in total, including me at thirteen, were crammed into a single taxi at midnight. The driver, a greasy, sweating figure, insisted I move closer. Then, his hand clamped over mine, forcing it onto his damp, fleshy thigh. A slick, repulsive substance oozed beneath my fingers. Bile rose in my throat. I was being violated, exposed in front of my own family, trapped in the suffocating confines of the taxi. As soon as the taxi lurched to a halt, I scrambled into the backseat, my body shaking uncontrollably. Sleep offered no escape. A shadow of shame clung to me, a constant, sickening presence. Then, a ghastly blue light pulsed from the electrical outlet in the room where I lay, shivering beneath a thin sheet. My legs turned to ice. The driver's voice, thick and leering, slithered through the air. I stumbled to the door and opened it. He stood bathed in the eerie blue glow, his eyes fixed on me, a predato...

  When you want to worship, even a mere stone is enough. When you don't even know why to worship, even the holiest temples look like mighty caves with mouths opened to devour the scars of religion. There is a temple called the "Bhootnath Temple" in Guwahati, Assam, India. This temple has special significance for devotees who believe in the power of Lord Shiva to protect and ward off evil spirits. One such monk was called "Narayan." He was a purely devoted soul who spent countless hours inside the temple, praying to Lord Shiva. He used to conduct several religious practices for devotees coming from near and far to receive the Lord's blessings. One day, Narayan was returning home from his daily rituals at the temple when he encountered an unusual sight: a shadow in the form of Lord Shiva following him in the dead of night. After this, he fell severely ill and passed away within a month. With the monk's sudden demise, the temple became lonelier than usual. ...