The villagers of Kheri never walked near the old banyan tree after sunset.

They said a chudail lived there—a spirit of a woman with long black hair, pale skin, and feet turned backward. Most people laughed at the stories, but nobody was brave enough to test them.

One monsoon evening, a young schoolteacher named Arjun was returning home from a neighboring village. Heavy rain flooded the roads, and darkness covered the fields.

His motorcycle suddenly stopped near the banyan tree.

"No problem," Arjun muttered. "Just a machine issue."

As he bent down to inspect the engine, he heard a soft voice behind him.

"Can you help me?"

He turned around.

A young woman stood under the tree, dressed in a white sari. Her face was beautiful, but strangely pale.

"It's dangerous to be here," Arjun said.

"My house is far away," she replied. "Please walk with me."

Feeling sorry for her, Arjun agreed.

The rain grew heavier as they walked along the muddy path. The woman never seemed to get wet. Not a single drop touched her clothes.

Arjun felt uneasy.

Then he noticed something strange.

The woman wasn't leaving footprints in the mud.

His heart began to race.

Trying not to panic, he glanced down once more.

This time he saw her feet.

They were twisted backward.

Arjun froze.

The woman slowly stopped walking.

A smile spread across her face.

"You finally noticed."

Her neck stretched unnaturally. Her eyes turned completely black. Long strands of hair floated around her as if underwater.

Arjun ran.

Behind him came a terrifying laugh.

"Hahahahaha..."

The sound echoed across the fields.

He sprinted through the darkness while the chudail chased him. Sometimes her laughter came from behind, sometimes from beside him, and sometimes directly in his ear.

Suddenly he remembered an old priest's advice:

"If a spirit follows you, do not look back."

So he kept running.

The village temple appeared ahead.

As Arjun crossed the temple gate, the laughter stopped.

Silence.

Panting, he turned around.

The chudail stood at the edge of the road.

Her face was no longer beautiful. It was rotten and covered with worms. Her eyes burned like red coals.

For a moment she stared at him.

Then she pointed toward the banyan tree.

And vanished.

The next morning, villagers found strange footprints around the temple. They began at the banyan tree and ended at the gate.

Backward footprints.

Arjun left Kheri a week later and never returned.

Years passed.

But even today, travelers claim that during stormy nights a woman in a white sari waits beneath the banyan tree.

And if you accept her request for help...

You may never reach home again.

"Some villagers say the real horror isn't seeing the chudail. It's hearing her whisper your name from outside your window after you've escaped." 👻🌙