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Camping with friends in the hills, away from the hustle and bustle of the city, is always exciting. But none of us imagined that this thrilling night experience would turn into a bone-chilling terror for all of us. We, five friends—Yusha, Roni, Gian, Shravan, and I—had pitched our tents in the remote hills of Sylhet. There was dense jungle all around, and our small bonfire in the middle.

It was almost twelve o'clock. The silence of the hills was so deep that we could hear our own breathing. Everyone's faces looked quite strange in the light of the fire. Yusha suddenly whispered,

—Do you know why this hill is called 'Kannamukh'? Locals say that on the night of the full moon, the tears of some ghost come from here.

All of us friends laughed it off. And hearing this, Jian took a step forward and said,

—These are all stories of marijuana. There is nothing to say about ghosts.

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But at that moment, a soft sound came from the forest, as if someone was dragging something heavy over dry leaves. We all fell silent, we could see nothing with the light of the torch. Only the wind was blowing all around. And as the night went on, the cold was increasing. Everyone was preparing to enter the tent, at that moment Roni noticed someone standing under a tree a little away from us. From a distance, it was clear that it was a tall female figure, wearing a white dress, but her face was not visible because it was covered in shadow. She was looking at us with one look.

Jian dared to say,

—Who is there? Who?

There was no answer, we panicked as soon as we turned on the Shravan torch. There was no one there! Even though a few seconds ago, we had all clearly seen her standing there. A cold wind ran down our spines.

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Out of fear, we all quickly sat chained inside the tent. But the panic did not leave us. After a while, we heard the sound of nails being cut outside the tent. It seemed that someone was sitting outside and trying to tear the tent cloth with their nails to get inside. Shravan was terrified and said tremblingly,

—None of us will go out, we will stay in the tent until morning.

Suddenly it occurred to me that instead of five, we were staying in a tent with 6 people! I was thinking to myself that we had come with five people but somehow in the dim darkness it seemed like there were six of us. My hands were shaking but I counted them with my hands—1,2,3,4,5......6! There was one person sitting in the very corner but his face was not clearly visible.

I couldn't scream in terror. I took the torch in my hand and looked at the sixth person and saw that he had no face! Just a straight piece of crumpled skin. The light inside the tent suddenly went out. We all hurriedly ran out of the tent. None of us dared to look back because we were scared.

When we returned to the camp in the morning with the help of the local people, we found that the tent was completely intact but inside the tent there was a writing on the sand—"Five people came, we took one."

We counted and saw that Roni was not with us. However, we thought Roni was with us. According to locals, the cries of a young man can still be heard from that side of the mountain, but Roni never returned home.