Banshee - The Red‑Eyed Woman on the Stone Wall Who Cried a Warning of Death
That night, I was sleeping in the small room at my grandmother’s house.
The house sat at the edge of the village.
Behind it was a low stone wall, and beyond that, a field.
Sheep passed by during the day, and at night there was nothing but the sound of wind.
Before bed, my grandmother always closed the window.
“If you hear a woman crying at night, never look outside.”
I’d heard that warning many times.
But once you’re past twenty, it feels more like an old family superstition than something frightening.
Around 2 a.m., it began.
At first, I thought it was the wind.
A long, drawn‑out sound.
Aaaaaaa…
Sometimes the wind slipping through the cracks made noises like that.
I pulled the blanket up and tried to sleep again.
Then came the second sound.
This time, unmistakable.
A woman was crying.
Not soft sobbing—
but the kind of wailing you hear at funerals,
a voice tearing itself apart.
I sat up.
From the hallway, I heard my grandmother’s door open.
Creak.
She whispered,
“Don’t turn on the light.”
I didn’t move.
The crying came from the far end of the yard.
Not right outside the window—
yet it sounded as if it were right beside my ear.
Aaaaaa…
The pitch dropped, then rose sharply.
It was a human voice, but no human could