I am Mak Inah, and I do not fear ghosts. They fear me.  

The young ones forget the old ways. They laugh at the tales of kuntilanak, tuyul, genderuwo, thinking they are just stories. But I know better. I know their names, their hiding places, their weaknesses. And when they come too close, when they forget their place in the balance of things, my keris reminds them.

I am no sorceress, no priestess, no chosen warrior. Just a woman who refuses to let the dead walk where the living should stand.