I held Dwi, my little sister, as she cried. "It's going to be okay," I told Dwi, forcing myself to look away from the blood-filled river. I couldn't understand why our little rural village in Indonesia, called Berhantu, was being plagued with such nightmares.

"Indah is gone," Dwi sobbed, looking up at me. My heart ached for her. Dwi was a girl with fair skin and a badly cut pair of bangs. I was worried for my sister's safety—Dwi's best friend, Indah Jones, had gone missing just like the previous kids in Berhantu. "What if I-I'm next, Asmara? Oh no, oh no..."

"You're being foolish, stop jinxing yourself." I glanced at the river. For the past few weeks, kids from the ages of six to sixteen had vanished without a trace. By night, children would disappear from their beds—no one knew how they were stolen—and the following morning, the river was full of blood only to wash away downstream.

Then the horrible dream repeats.

"Let's go home, Ibu will be unpleased if we're late." I felt bad for not letting Dwi grieve her missing friend. If Utari or Kirana had been in Indah's situation, I would have been crying too. "C'mon, Dwi."

"Okay..."

We began walking away from the river of blood and I sighed heavily.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"You're late," Ibu said coldly. She was leaning against a room in their house and Asmara took a deep breath. I don't want to fight today, I thought tiredly. "Go to your bedroom as I talk to your sister," she ordered Dwi.

Dwi nodded, barely holding in her sobs when she ran to her bedroom. "Ibu," I started, toying with my hands, "Let me explain—"

"Explain then."

I was going to, I wanted to say. Ibu could be so difficult sometimes, actually, most of the time. "Dwi and I heard that Indah was found in the Berhantu River and she was so heartbroken—I gave in, letting her go see if it was true or not..."

"Well, Asmara?" Ibu snapped. "Was it true?"

I gulped. "Yes. The blood was there a-and Indah wasn't in school. Mrs. Jones was there, crying before being ushered away." I couldn't go on, it was too disgusting to mention the brutal details. "Indah vanished."

Ibu sighed. "Go to your room. Now."

I did so, dropping off my backpack in the foyer before going to my room. I plopped down on my bed, making the yellow sheets billow. I wonder if Utari or Kirana are still are school... No wonder why my ibu was furious, I had let Dwi skip school.

Suddenly, a rock was thrown at my bedroom window, making a loud THUD. "What was that?!" Ibu hollered from the kitchen. "No one!" I yelled back, opening the window. Below were my best friends, Utari Tabuni and Kirana Solossa. "Are you both crazy? My ibu will murder you both," I hissed.

"Girl, shut up." Utari rolled her eyes, sticking out her tongue. She had deep brown skin with freckles and black braids but Kirana was the opposite, she was very pale with a blond ponytail.

"Was Indah found?" Utari asked.

"Yeah, I saw Mrs. Jones at the river, it was awful."

"I feel so bad for Dwi," Kirana sighed. "Anyway, Asmara, climb out of that window so we don't break our necks staring up at you."

I jumped down my window, our house was only one story and landed on my feet like a kitty. I tossed my glossy black hair over my shoulder, leaning against the wall. "We need to do something or the disappearances will never end."

"But aren't the people involved?" Kirana crossed her arms.

"Yeah, at the start of the disappearances, but they just deemed them as runaways since most of the missing kids were older at the time. The police they sent were just racist white people who looked down on us—" Utari winced at Kirana. "Sorry."

Kirana was mixed, Mr. Solossa was an American who came to Indonesia overseas and fell in love with Mrs. Solossa. "It's fine," she shrugged, "I mean, it's not untrue. They only stayed for a day before leaving again before a child went missing the same night."

"And they always arrive after the blood has washed away," I grumbled.

They stood in silence for a few minutes before I spoke away. "I'm scared for Dwi and both of you too. I-I don't want you or anyone else to vanish, I don't want the insane person behind this to take you guys too." It had to be someone doing this, but who? Local police were stumped and the forces outside the village weren't helpful.

"We could go to the river tonight," Utari suggested. I blinked as Kirana stifled a gasp. What? They wanted to avoid the danger, not heading straight for the river. "I mean, someone or something must be adding the blood to the river every night, we can catch them in the act."

"Hasn't the police tried?" Kirana retorted.

"Yes, but they're adults, we're kids."

"That makes us more endangered," I replied, pinching the bridge of my nose. But Dwi, Utari, and Kirana... Her sister was eight while both of her friends were fifteen, they were all in the line of danger. So am I, it suddenly dawned on her. "But Utari's right, we can't let this thing ravage Berhantu."

Utari was smug. "Okay, at midnight, we'll end up?"

Kirana sighed. "This is a bad idea that I just know we'll regret."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

I snuck out of the house, hoping that Dwi or Ibu wouldn't catch me, and started my way to the Berhantu River. I gazed upon our rural village, it was a true beauty with lush trees and exotic flowers, but I couldn't help but wonder what Berhantu deserved to have such a cruel thing happen to its children. Are they just missing or dead? I thought of the gruesome idea.

I arrived at the river's edge, backing away. It was dark out and if I happened to be the next who disappeared, then no one would be able to save me in time. "Boo!" Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed my shoulders and I gasped loudly. "Just kidding!"

It was Utari, of course. "Ugh, you little rat! You scared me!" I groaned as she giggled. "Quit goofing around, you're so immature." Someone walked closer to us and I squinted to see Kirana. "Hey, Kirana, glad to see someone normal."

"Hey!" Utari protested.

"Just kidding," I repeated in a sing-songy voice.

"Stop being so unserious, girls," Kirana said, rolling her eyes. "We're here to figure things out, correct?" I nodded and so did Utari, but more playfully. We settled down near some trees as I unzipped my backpack.

"I brought leftover pisang goreng that my ibu made yesterday," I said, handing some around. They were basically fried banana chips, but Ibu used some secret ingredient to spice it up.

Utari took a fistful, stuffing them in her mouth. "Oh my god," she sighed, "it tastes so good, Asmara." We giggled when I had to remind them this was serious business. We watched the clear waters crash onto each other until my eyes got sleepy.

I yawned. "This feels like a lost cause..."

"Where's the culprit? This is literally a fever dream or something," Kirana said, bored. Suddenly, a shadowy figure grazed across the river. I jumped up, gasping, pointing at where the person was.

"I saw someone!" The figure came again, but it was too blurry and dark to see anything, before it disappeared into the shadows. "What the hell?" I whispered, lurching forward. Utari and Kirana joined me as we stood, hunched at the Berhantu River's edge. "Where did it go—"

The figure suddenly dove into the river, making a loud SPLASH! I squealed, backing away. Utari tripped over a branch, falling onto the ground, and hitting her head. "U-Utari!" I cried out. All of the sudden, the mysterious stranger's hand shot up from the water, grabbing Kirana by the ankle.

"Asmara! Utari! Help!" Kirana screamed as she was pulled into the water. Kirana! I ran towards her as she was submerged in the water. There were muffles of her shouts underwater as I tried to pinpoint where she was in the water.

"Kirana!" I screeched, jumping into the river. The cold water alerted me as I forced myself to open my eyes. They stung as I swam towards Kirana, who sank to the river's floor. I grabbed Kirana by her blond hair, swimming back to the shore. I took a loud gasp of air before pushing her onto the ground.

"Oh no, oh no," Utari repeated as I crawled onto the ground. Kirana was unconscious, her eyes lidded as blood pooled from her head. She must have hit her head somewhere, making her drown. Utari checked for a pulse. "She's dead, Asmara!"

"W-What?" I blinked. "No, Kirana can't be..." Sure, many of the kids have gone missing, but no one had ever died in the Berhantu River. I glanced back at the water, seeing blood. Oh shit.

Kirana Solossa had been murdered.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"It was all your fault," Ibu hissed to me as I toyed with her fingers. Thanks a lot, Ibu. It was Kirana's funeral, a few days after she passed, more kids had gone missing before that. The sun was shining out and there were fresh flowers, except it was a period of mourning. "You led the Solossa girl to the river for what? You think you're so good, Asmara? You've caused Mr. and Mrs. Solossa so much pain."

Mrs. Solossa was sobbing, clutching her chest while her husband comforted her, rubbing her back. One of my greatest friends is gone, I swallowed hard. And Kirana Solossa is never coming back. "I'm sorry," I told Ibu.

"You need to be better, Asmara," she said coldly before turning away. She tugged on Dwi's hand, indicating that they would go home without me. Once they were out of sight, I started to cry. Maybe my ibu was right, maybe it was all my fault.

It was so tiring dealing with my mother, she could just bring me down to my lowest. Utari saw me in the crowd, tears in her eyes as well, running towards me. She leapt into my arms, wailing. We both broke down in tears, collapsing to the ground. We hugged, not even letting go when people started to notice.

"I hate myself, I hate myself," I sniffled. "It's all my fault."

Utari laughed, but there was no humour in her voice, just pain. "It was my idea and I was the one who didn't jump into the river to rescue Kirana in time." She sobbed into my shoulder. "She's truly gone."

"These awful people behind the disappearances must be the ones who killed her."

Utari released me, helping me up. "I don't know, Mr. Solossa told me that Kirana must have fallen into the Berhantu River because they did an autopsy. She had a head injury which must have knocked her out, letting her drown."

"She wasn't in the water for that long..." Was she? I was a slow swimmer, several minutes had already passed when I had gotten to Kirana. But someone grabbed her ankle... However, they didn't have proof since no one had seen the person's face clearly.

Was it even a person?

"We'll figure it out," Utari said, rubbing my shoulder. "Hey, my folks are pretty angry with me... Could I go to your house after the funeral? I think I'm going to be grounded and I may as well rebel for one last time." I wanted to deny her, I knew Ibu would be mad, but Utari's parents were probably even more strict than mine, so I agreed.

We walked back to my house and snuck through the window. "We need to find this crook who steals Berhantu's children and killed our best friend," I said, crossing my legs on the floor.

Utari was on the bed. "Well, let's be logical. If locals haven't caught this person—let's call them Stealer—then the Stealer must be a paranormal being, they must be invisible." I gawked at her, blinking. Paranormal? Like ghosts and haunted stuff? No way. "You think someone normal took Kirana's life away? She was a good swimmer, Asmara."

"Fair point." My heart ached for Kirana.

"What if it's some spirit? I remember my pak, my father, telling me a tale of Indonesian water spirits called the Hantu Air." Untari sighed. "Pak said that the Hantu Air is invisible and live in all bodies of water. That would explain how they took the kids from their beds, there was probably water around them."

I wrinkled my nose. "My ibu told me about these spirits too, but they're not malicious."

"Actually, it's rumoured that they were often caught in conflicts with mortals," Utari whispered but then frowned. "But what conflict would be big enough to cause Hantu Air to steal children and kill Kirana?"

"Not to mention to fill the river up with blood," I muttered.

Utari checked her time on her wrist. "Hey, I need to get home before Pak yells at me for not behaving like a lady." She rolled her eyes, but she looked so exhausted. I could relate, Ibu was always concerned about what was ladylike and what was not "acceptable" in our village. No crop tops with thin straps... It felt like all the kids in Berhantu were trapped in a large whirlpool created by our families' past errors.

Now we pay the price.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The next day, tensions were high. Dwi was drawing in the kitchen, no doubt still upset about Indah's vanishing. I was also sad about Kirana's passing when Ibu wrapped a scarf around her neck. "I'm going to give some sop buntut to Mrs. Solossa," she said, carrying a small pot of oxtail soup. Ibu narrowed her eyes. "It must be very difficult for a mother to cook while grieving."

I gulped. "I-I'll look after Dwi while you're gone—" Ibu was already out the door, waddling down the street to Kirana's house. Of course, everything will always be my fault. Shortly after, there was a rapid pounding on the door.

"Don't!" Dwi shrieked as I went into the foyer. "Stranger danger!"

"It's just me," Utari called from outside as I opened the door. She was slick with sweat, looking as if she ran here, and she thrust an old history textbook into my hands. "Quickly," she said, closing the door behind her, "Pak doesn't know I'm here."

We joined Dwi at the dinner table and my sister pushed her crayons away. "What are you doing?" Dwi asked as Utari thumbed through the pages before stopping. I peered at the page, reading it.

"This is something I found in my kakek's study," Utari replied. Her grandfather, who was her kakek, was an old member of some historical society in Berhantu. "Gosh, Kakek will be so furious if he discovered I touched his things without telling him..."

I read the textbook, my eyes going wide. "Our ancestors made deals with the Hauntu Air?!" I gasped. So it was true, the Hantu Air was real! "Why would they make deals with water spirits?"

"Around a hundred years ago, there was a major drought in the Berhantu River. Our people, or our ancestors, were on the brink of dying. The water spirits offered to bring back water, but only if they did something for them." Utari bit her upper lip. "The water came back and the villagers were saved from death, but the text doesn't say what they gave to the Hantu Air in exchange."

"Wait," Dwi said, interrupting us, "it said we were greedy with this newfound freedom of the river's sudden flow of water." They abused the river's neverending flow of water... Was this why the Hantu Air wanted revenge?

I turned to Utari. "Thanks for letting me know, but you need to go. Like, right now. Ibu, my mother, is coming back soon any minute. She'll lose her head if she sees you here, Utari."

The girl nodded. "My pak won't be happy either. Bye, Asmara. Bye, Dwi."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

I couldn't sleep that night, tossing and turning in bed. The sheets clung to my sweaty, sticky body as I sighed heavily. Something bad is coming, I just knew it. After a restless night, I was awoken by Ibua, shaking me. "W-What?" I yawned, rubbing my eyes.

"Dwi is gone!" Ibu yelled and that woke me up completely. I hopped out of bed, racing along my ibu to burst into my sister's room. My heart faltered as I saw messed up sheets and an empty bed. Dwi can't be gone, I thought desperately. I already lost Kirana...

I rushed to the foyer, swung open the front door and ran out despite wearing only my PJs and slippers. I heard Ibu call after me but I couldn't stop, I couldn't let this nightmare become reality. I bolted straight to the Berhantu River, out of breath and panting. The river was full of fresh, red blood.

I sank to my knees, holding my head in my hands, crying uncontrollably. "D-Dwi," I wailed, tears bursting out of my eyes. Even if Dwi and I fought and we found each other annoying, I didn't want Dwi to disappear forever. Forever? I sobbed and sobbed until my voice died in the back of my throat.

Eventually, Ibu joined me by the river's edge, silent tears rolling down my mother's face. Of course, she quickly wiped them away, but it was rare to see Ibu cry. "Stop being weak," she said, fighting to keep the sadness out of her tone. "I said stop crying, Asmara," she said sharply. "It was going to happen in the end, you hoped that D-Dwi wasn't next. Well, now you're disappointed and it's your own fault for having false hope. I expect you to come home when I walk away."

She turned around, taking a shaky breath. Then Ibu walked away, leaving me to grapple with Dwi's disappearance. My knees dug into the soft ground as angry tears slipped down. I was angry at Hantu Air for stealing Berhantu's children, for stealing Dwi and taking Kirana's life away, but also at my ibu. Why can't she be understanding? Ibu never liked it when Dwi or I showed negative emotions, it meant we were stupid and weak.

I sat at the river, watching the blood eventually wash away. How many times has this happened? Too many to count. I cradled myself, taking deep breaths. The Hantu Air isn't getting away with this, not ever again. She was going to do something to end this once and for all—confront the water spirits.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

It was around midnight when I staked out at the Berhantu River. I was trembling as I paced around the river's edge. Waiting was torture for me—when were the water spirits going to show up? Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Come at me!" I screamed at the river in a fit of rage. "Take me! Kill me!" I taunted angrily. "You think you're so mysterious and cunning? Show yourself, Hantu Air! You may have s-stolen our people's children, but you're just cowards with stupid grudges—"

A sudden chill ran down my spine. They're here. Even if they were invisible water spirits, they had some sort of presence that I detected. "Ah, not so cowardly after all," I muttered.

"Speak with such distasteful tongue, mortal girl," a cruel voice hissed.

"Give me back Dwi, give back all of the villager's children," I protested.

"No, it's what they deserved," a softer voice whispered. "For what we endured, for what we missed."

I shut my eyes, clutching my waist. Don't mess this up, Asmara, I told myself. "Look, I get it, I can hold grudges too. Y-You brought back water to this very river after a major drought, you saved our ancestors. This was roughly around a hundred years ago, right?"

"Correct," another voice replied.

"Then we abused the river's flow of water, we were greedy villagers," I explained, toying with my fingers. I gnawed at the insides of my cheeks, willing myself to continue. "I apologize on our village's behalf, but kidnapping kids is not okay—"

The cruel voice laughed. "You think we're upset because the villagers abused the river? We could care less about how you used the river, foolish mortal girl. The problem is, you all didn't respect our promise."

I blinked. "What?"

The soft-voiced Hantu Air jumped in. "We agreed that in exchange for the water, they would remember us." The Hantu Air sounded sad and distraught. "But they lied, we did not get the shrines as promised, in fact, we were erased from history instead of being properly worshipped. Ask anyone if they know who the Hantu Air is and they'll not know."

"We were forgotten," a voice added. "Would you like to be forgotten after giving an entire village an endless supply of water? Guess not, mortal girl." Forgotten, forgotten, forgotten... It sounded awful.

"No, I-I would not enjoy that at all." I swallowed my pride, reopening my eyes. "But you're also at fault. It's not fair that we, the younger generation, are carrying the burdens and sins of our ancestors. Why are we to blame? Why must we be outcasts with all the generational trauma?" It was even harder for me to admit it.

"If you want to be honoured and remembered," I continued, "then let the innocent children of Berhantu go. If you do so, I promise on behalf of my village that we'll build the proper shrines you were promised a century ago. But please, don't let us repeat our elders' past mistakes, allow us to fix them."

There were a few minutes of silence before the cruel voice, though in a gentler tone, "Okay, fine. We will release the children in agreement to your terms, mortal girl."

"My name is Asmara Agung," I said as quiet chants surrounded me. The Berhantu River suddenly formed a whirlpool and I saw children's heads peeping out. I saw Indah's long black hair and I saw Dwi's face. Dwi!

"The children were kept safe in an invisible bubble underwater," a Hantu Air explained as the children swam towards shore. Dwi, bawling her eyes out, came running towards me, drenched. She clung to me, sobbing. I was soaked, but I didn't care, embracing my baby sister.

"A-Asmara," Dwi cried, "is this ju-just a fever dream?

"Oh, Dwi," I sighed, laughing a bit. "This is real and nothing but real, sister." I motioned for Indah, Dwi's best friend, to join the hug. Indah grabbed her arms around my waist, laughing in relief. Suddenly, kids of all ages hugged me one by one.

Berhantu's children were whole again.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

It took a few months, mainly because it was the village's children who pieced it together, but proper shrines for the Hantu Air were built. It was by the river, the water crystal clear, and Utari agreed to stop by the shrines every week to replace the old flowers with fresh ones.

It was the grand opening, and although not many adults attended, all of the once-missing kids joined and other children did too. They were running around the grass or splashing in the river, it was as if the whirlpool they once were stuck in had made a royal flush.

I watched as Dwi and Indah played in the Berhantu River's waters, laughing playfully. However, by the shrines, there was a memorial grave for my lost best friend. Utari and I knelt at the grave, the name Kirana Dewa Solossa etched on the stonework. "We miss you," Utari whispered at the grave.

"Every day," I added, gazing at the fresh flowers we put next to Kirana's grave. They were gladiolus flowers, a symbol of Kirana's non-stop courage. "You were always so brave," I said, closing my eyes. "Now, everyone in Berhantu is."

We were finally free.