Misteri Gunung Panderman Novels & Stories

None of it was proof, only whispers and speculation. The turning point came on the third evening, when a child, barefoot, no more than eight, ran past us and dropped a smooth stone at Jana's feet. Only it wasn't a stone. It was a locket, tarnished with age. Inside was a faded picture of a man I recognized from old newspapers, Mister Pitman, and beside him, a woman whose smile I knew. Jana's mother. Amanda Kramer. The shock rattled through me, my lungs tight, my throat dry. Jana leaned over, staring at the tiny image as if it were a ghost rising from the past. Her fingers trembled against mine as I held her tight.

Without a formidable ruler like Giriwangsa holding everything together, stronger powers would inevitably begin circling. “What about the martial world?” Jaladri asked. “Any interesting news there?” Wisnumurti bit into the head of a snapper swimming in yellow curry. “Serial murders.” Jaladri nearly choked. “There’s a murderer?” “Yes. Martial artists killing martial artists isn’t unusual. But one man carrying out a string of killings while openly announcing himself? That gets people's attention.” Jaladri stared. “Who is he?” “He calls himself Pangeran Langit, Prince of the Sky.”

Mister got a huge smile on his face and he laughed to himself as a plan began to form in the back of his brain. He suddenly snapped back from his thoughts and hurried back to his great grandmother's room, and that lose spot in the floor. He needed to try to open the lock and retrieve the book that was still in the trap and locked underneath it. He was sure that it held the information on the Old Crone that he desperately needed. He was beginning to feel a little bit excited and ready for adventure. That was a feeling that he hadn't felt in a while. He had almost forgotten just how addictive that it could be.

"You'll see when it's time, I'm going to the g/c's office now and when I do, you'll be outside recording the entire conversation I am about to have. Okay?" "Okay, Senior" "Don't call me that". He pointed and walked away. I followed. Daniel Jegede was tall, muscular and dark skinned, he had a maturely handsome face and looked more like a twenty year old than a seventeen year old. He had the long confident stride of a basketball and the arms of a wrestler. I started to wonder if he had used those hands to strangle Lola to death or if he was going to strangle me to death. I made it my business to walk at a safe distance from him in case I needed to start running for my dear life.