Nobody Looks at the Old Tree After Sunset

The village of Chandrapur had many strange rules.

Children were not allowed outside after midnight.

Nobody walked near the river during storms.

And whenever a funeral took place, villagers covered every mirror inside the house before sunset.

But among all the strange traditions, one warning frightened people the most.

Never look at the old tree after sunset.

Not even by accident.

The tree stood alone at the edge of the village near an abandoned dirt road nobody used anymore.

It was enormous.

Its twisted black branches stretched across the sky like giant claws. Even during summer, the tree had no leaves. Crows often sat on its dead branches without making a sound.

During daytime, people avoided it.

At night, people feared it.

Nobody remembered exactly how old the tree was.

Some claimed it had stood there before the village itself existed.

Others believed something had been buried beneath it many years ago.

Something evil.

Whenever children asked elders why nobody looked at the tree after sunset, they always received the same answer.

“Because if it notices you looking back… it follows you home.”

Most young people laughed at the story.

Until the disappearances started.

The first victim was a farmer named Jalil.

One evening, he was returning home late after searching for a missing cow near the old road.

According to his wife, Jalil arrived home unusually quiet that night.

He locked every window himself.

Then he asked a strange question.

“Has anyone been standing outside our house?”

His wife laughed nervously.

But Jalil did not.

His face looked pale.

Terrified.

That night, he barely slept.

Around midnight, his wife woke up to the sound of whispering outside their bedroom window.

At first, she thought it was wind.

Then she heard Jalil speaking softly.

“No… no… don’t come closer…”

She turned toward him.

Jalil was sitting upright on the bed, staring directly at the window.

Sweat covered his face.

“What happened?” his wife whispered.

Slowly…

Jalil pointed toward the darkness outside.

“There’s someone beneath the tree.”

His wife forced herself to look through the window.

But the old tree was too far away to see clearly in the darkness.

Then suddenly—

Something moved.

A tall shadow standing beneath the tree.

Perfectly still.

Watching the house.

Jalil’s wife screamed instantly.

The shadow did not move.

It simply stood there.

Unnaturally tall.

Its arms hanging too low beside its body.

And even from that distance…

It felt wrong.

As if it was not human at all.

The next morning, Jalil disappeared.

The front door of his house was found wide open.

Mud covered the floor inside.

And outside—

A trail of wet footprints led toward the old tree.

Villagers searched the area for hours.

They eventually found Jalil’s body beneath the tree roots.

His neck was twisted backward unnaturally.

His eyes completely black.

As if darkness itself had filled them.

After that, fear spread through Chandrapur like disease.

People stopped leaving home after sunset.

The abandoned road became completely empty.

Even children stopped playing outside near evening.

But the deaths did not stop.

A week later, another villager claimed he saw someone standing beneath the tree during sunset.

That same night, scratching sounds came from his rooftop.

The next morning, blood was found smeared across his bedroom wall.

His body was never discovered.

Soon, terrifying rumors spread across the village.

Some villagers said the thing beneath the tree moved closer every night after being seen.

Others claimed it whispered people’s names outside their windows.

But everyone agreed on one thing.

If you saw it once…

It never stopped watching you.

One stormy evening, a college student named Rafi returned to Chandrapur after several years in the city.

Unlike the villagers, Rafi did not believe in ghost stories.

The entire village seemed trapped in fear over a dead tree.

To him, it sounded ridiculous.

During dinner, Rafi laughed when his grandmother warned him not to look toward the old road after sunset.

“You still believe those stories?” he asked.

His grandmother’s expression immediately changed.

She slowly lowered her spoon.

Then whispered,

“People who laugh at the tree don’t survive very long.”

That night, heavy rain fell across Chandrapur.

The electricity died shortly after midnight.

Rafi sat beside the window scrolling through his phone while rain hammered the roof above him.

Then—

The dogs outside suddenly began barking.

Not normal barking.

Panicked.

Terrified.

As if something stood outside the house.

Rafi frowned and looked toward the old road.

At first, he saw nothing except darkness and rain.

Then lightning flashed across the sky.

And for one horrifying second—

He saw it.

Something standing beneath the old tree.

Tall.

Thin.

Unmoving.

Its body looked darker than the night around it.

Rafi’s smile disappeared instantly.

The figure seemed impossibly tall.

Its arms nearly touched the ground.

And although the distance was far—

Rafi somehow knew it was staring directly at him.

Then the lightning disappeared.

Darkness swallowed everything again.

Rafi’s heartbeat began pounding violently.

He told himself it was only fear.

Only imagination.

But then—

A second flash of lightning lit the road again.

This time—

The figure was no longer beneath the tree.

It was closer.

Standing in the middle of the muddy road.

Watching the house.

Rafi slowly stepped away from the window.

His breathing became uneven.

Outside, the dogs suddenly stopped barking all at once.

Silence filled the village.

Then came the sound.

Thump.

Something heavy landed on the roof.

Rafi froze.

Another sound followed.

Thump… Thump…

Slow footsteps.

Walking above his room.

Then—

A long scratching noise dragged across the ceiling directly above his head.

Rafi stopped breathing.

And outside the window—

Something slowly began smiling in the darkness.

End of Part One

To be continued…