"Bol Hari Bol… Hari Hari Bol…"
On a cold winter night, a group of villagers carried a dead body on their shoulders toward the cremation ground. Their voices echoed in unison as they walked toward the cremation site of Debitala. Leading them was an elderly man holding a lantern. He spoke gravely, "Horen died around noon. We must cremate the body before twelve hours pass."
Hearing this, Gojen, Horen's son, replied in a dry voice, "Father would have been cremated much earlier… but I was late returning from the city."
The old man reassured him, "You tried your best. Birth, death, and marriage—these are all decided by fate."
As they walked, someone asked why the cremation had to be done within twelve hours. The old man lowered his voice and said, "After twelve hours, the body becomes impure… and evil spirits begin to notice it."
The group fell silent.
Soon, they reached the eerie cremation ground. The night was still, cold, and unsettling. They went to call Boto Dom, the man responsible for preparing the funeral pyre, but his hut was locked.
With no other option, they decided to build the pyre themselves.
Before leaving, the old man warned Gojen firmly, "Do not leave your father's body alone. Not even for a moment."
Gojen sat beside his father's corpse under a tree while the others went to gather wood.
Time passed. Midnight struck.
Suddenly, Gojen felt a cold breath on his neck. A whisper called his name. He looked around and thought he saw a shadow behind a tree.
Then he heard the old man's voice calling him.
Confused but trusting the voice, Gojen left the body and walked toward the others.
Moments later, a dark, horrifying shadow descended from the tree and merged into Horen's corpse.
When Gojen returned with the others… the body was gone.
Suddenly, Horen appeared.
But something was terribly wrong.
His face twisted into a sinister grin. His form began to change—revealing a monstrous, horrifying entity within.
"It's not your father!" the old man shouted.
Before he could say more, the creature attacked and killed him.
Terrified, everyone fled.
From that night onward, the village of Ichapur was plagued by fear. Livestock disappeared. People claimed to see Horen wandering at night.
The truth soon emerged.
A demon—a Pishach—had possessed Horen's corpse.
Days later, Shail, the old man's son, returned after reading Gojen's letter. He explained, "If a corpse is left alone after twelve hours, a Pishach can take over it… turning it into a man-eating entity."
"But there is a way to stop it," Shail added.
That night, Gojen returned to the cremation ground. He cut his finger and stood beneath the same tree.
Soon, the possessed form of his father appeared before him.
For a moment, emotions took over. He embraced the figure—but it was ice cold.
Then Shail's voice rang out, "That's not your father!"
The illusion broke.
The creature revealed its true, grotesque form.
Without hesitation, Gojen took a burning torch from Shail and threw it onto the creature's face.
Shail had told him—only a child giving fire to the possessed parent's body could destroy the Pishach.
Within moments, the dark shadow shrieked and vanished into the air.
Horen's body turned to ashes.
And just like that… the nightmare ended.
Through courage and sacrifice, Gojen and Shail saved the village of Ichapur from the terror of the Pishach.