Episode 9 - The Headless Woman Of Kasara Ghat. / Posted by: Mandahrk Source: Reddit

---I was sleeping when she died. Drooling and drifting from one hazy dream to another, blissfully unaware of the struggles that were her last breaths.
I wouldn't have done it if not for what happened to her. For what I did to her.
Was it redemption that I was seeking? Deliverance, perhaps? Or maybe just a good night's sleep. I don't know. I guess I'll never know. My father always used to say that you can never really be a good judge of your own intentions, so you should just stop trying.
I didn't go looking for it. It came to me by pure chance while I was mindlessly scrolling through Facebook, rolling an empty bottle of whiskey under my foot, my sweat stale with the stench of its contents. I paused to flex my aching thumb and there it was, the text practically screaming at me -
The Headless Woman Of Kasara Ghat : The Nightmare That Makes Your Dreams Come True!!!
It was the turn of phrase that caught my attention. Just something about that contrasting imagery of dreams and nightmares, of rainbows melting into roiling black skies that resonated with me so suddenly and so deeply that I found myself repeatedly thumbing my phone's screen before I even realized what I was doing.
The link took me to a garbage, ad-riddled website. The kind that has white text slathered on a black background and two pop up ads ready to slap your screen if you dare let your thumb slip. Yet my curiosity made me soldier on. My eyes flew over the text, my heartbeat growing faster and faster the deeper I got into the article.
Have you ever lost someone you loved?
Wish you could talk to them one last time?
Look no further!
The Headless Woman of Kasara Ghat is here to take care of your deepest desires.
Kasara Ghat situated on the Mumbai-Nashik Highway is said to be one of the most haunted stretches of road in India today. It is infamous for having been the site of innumerable fatal accidents over the years and for being used as a dumping ground for multiple murder victims. Needless to say, a lot of restless souls haunt Kasara Ghat.
And chief amongst them, the one that makes the Ghat one of the most dangerous places to visit is the headless woman. Countless travelers have fallen victim to this terrifying woman who stalks this winding hilly road, using the cover of darkness to lure in her prey. Only when she enters the vehicle do the good Samaritans realize just what kind of monster they have invited into their abruptly shortened lives.
But wait, it's not all hopeless! For before the woman rips her benefactors to shreds, she lets them speak to their dead loved ones one last time.
And how does she do that, you ask?
By taking on the appearance of the deceased, of course. That's right, the headless woman grows a head, one with the appearance, memories and personality of her prey's loved one. So at least those poor souls get to have a moment of catharsis before their lives are ended in a most brutal manner.
I had to stop reading at that point. The cocktail of sweat and tears swirling in my eyes had made the text too blurry to read.
Something had caught my heart in a vice-like grip. What was it though? Fear? Adrenaline? …Hope?
What the hell was I doing? Had I really gotten so desperate that I was willing to put my faith in some shitty urban legend?
The answer bloomed in my mind before the question could even fully take shape.
I forced some spit up my throat to wet my parched mouth and rubbed my eyes raw before continuing reading.
You might be wondering, what's the point of talking about the headless woman if all that awaits you after an encounter with her is certain death. After all, there are numerous other monsters out there who would gladly rob you of your life, so what makes this one special?
Well, the thing that makes the headless woman so special is that there is a way to survive a meeting with her. To have a heart-to-heart chat with your deceased loved ones without later joining them in the afterlife. A fool-proof method that guarantees your survival while getting you what you want.
It took a lot of trials, a lot of failures and sacrifices to discover this method. So rest assured, it works. But be warned, there is no room for error here. Even the slightest deviation from the steps as they are laid down here will cause your chances of survival to drop right down to zero. The headless woman is a vicious and cunning creature. She doesn't like being played with, and will mete out the most excruciating punishment imaginable if given even the slightest room to maneuver. So read the steps carefully. Then read them again. And again and again and again until they've been chiseled into your memory. And then read them again.
Now that you've read and internalized the warnings, you can move on and actually read the steps that you need to follow to safely meet the headless woman of Kasara Ghat -
1. Use a car. Not a bike. I repeat. Do NOT use a bike, for it will get you killed very quickly.
2. Travel after midnight. 12:30 AM to 1:45 AM is the sweet spot.
3 Keep a bottle of chilled Kokum juice with you. And a clean glass.
4. Make sure your doors are unlocked and your windows rolled down, even if it is raining.
5. Turn on your radio. If your car doesn't have one, get one. Switch to the AM band. You must NOT tune into any station. Just static. Pure white noise.
6. Use your turn signal. The one opposite cliffside, so it looks like you're preparing to plunge into the valley. Keep it switched on.
7. Every five hundred meters, slow down - but do NOT stop - and press down on your horn for a good five seconds before speeding off. Use the odometer of your car, or a distance measuring app on your phone. Be as precise as possible.
Keep doing this until you see the headless woman. However, do NOT pick her up. It's not the right time to do so. Drive past her. About a kilometer away you should see her again. This is when you stop and pick her up. Remember, this is about her appearing on the road, not you spotting her. If you miss seeing her the first time and drive past her the second time, you will die.
Don't worry though. You have the radio to warn you. When it starts going crazy, you'll know she's close, and you'll know to be ready and to keep your eyes peeled.
Again, stop when you see her the second time. Do not move from your seat. Wait for her to get in. Do not stare at her. It would be wise to turn your rear view mirror away, but not necessary. She's not shy. Sooner or later she'll make you look at her. Pour out the Kokum juice in the glass and offer it to her. Once she takes it from you, start driving.
And that's it. There are no more rules or instructions because each encounter from this point onwards is different. Survival now only depends on your luck and ingenuity. And the headless woman's mood.
Best of luck! I hope you find what you seek.
Any other day I would have laughed at myself for even thinking that any of this could be real, let alone contemplating actually going through with this. But it wasn't any other day. I wasn't the rational and psychologically stable individual I had been all my life. No, I was so fundamentally broken that I was willing to do whatever it took to get one last chance to speak to her. To beg for her forgiveness, to tell her I loved her...
...To ask her if she hated me.
Most of my liquor-induced numbness had drained through my sweat glands by this point. I pushed myself up out of my chair and went and grabbed a pad and a pen from my study where I quickly jotted down the rules before making a list of everything that I would have to do to make this trip happen.
It took about three weeks before I was ready to go to Kasara Ghat. I was living in Pune at that time, which was about five hours away from my destination, pretty much necessitating a short leave from work, which was understandably, though a bit surprisingly easy to get. I left my house at 5 pm on a grim Saturday evening. Tar-black clouds had been growling in the sky all throughout the day, and they started spitting the second I rolled out of our apartment building's underground parking. The drizzle turned into a deluge by the time I left the city, pounding the car with impenetrable sheets of water. I had never seen a rain as relentless and vicious as that, not since the floods of 2005.
I thanked the stars that I was able to make it out of the city before the skies truly opened up their black bellies. Getting stuck in a storm-induced traffic would have put a quick end to my plans and driven me deeper into those familiar quicksands of depression. Sitting all alone in that car, surrounded by the din of traffic would have reminded me of all those times I spent with her, singing old Kishore Kumar songs and giggling at shitty whatsapp forwards while cars and buses crawled along at a snail's pace beside us. It's funny how the little things hit you when you least expect them to, how memories that seem insignificant at the time of their creation become priceless when the person you made them with is gone.
I squeezed the foam covered steering wheel and pressed my foot down on the accelerator. Black wiper blades trembled across the windshield as the car ploughed through translucent walls of water. Time ticked by, knotty concrete jungles gave way to sprawling water-logged rice fields. The sun, hidden behind a raging grey-black veil, slowly slid beneath the hills far up ahead. The rain began petering out, turning from an endless wash to a heavy drizzle that peppered my roof.
Soon I found myself navigating the narrow roads webbing the hills that rose up out of the ground like mossy stone teeth, reaching up into the dark sky as if wanting to devour it. Darkness fell upon the lan