FULL DISCLOSURE: This is an original fictional story written by Josh from Boo Bros RVA. The events described did not happen to me, and this is not intended to represent my personal military service or experiences. It is written in a first-person style for storytelling purposes only.

Stories of the Djinn

I had heard stories about djinn before. In Arabian and Islamic theology, they are supernatural spirits with a nature of their own. We had learned about them during a class I took in college, and from what I remembered, djinn was said to have the choice to be either good or evil.

At the time, it was just something interesting to talk about in class. I remember thinking that if I ever did run into one, I hoped it would be one of the good ones. I hoped it would not try to hurt me.

The Mission

I remember that night like it happened yesterday, even though it was ten years ago. I remember the date, the place, and even the exact time when everything changed.

I was attached to a Special Forces group assigned to secure a High Value Target, or HVT, at an undisclosed location in Afghanistan. There were five operators and me. I was the intel guy, which meant I sometimes got pulled into the so-called cool-guy missions. Most of them were exciting. This one was different.

On paper, the mission was simple: we would be dropped by helicopter near the Pakistan border in the middle of the night, move six kilometers on foot through the mountains, reach the village where the target was located, and disappear back into the darkness with little to no resistance.

The entire mission would be conducted under night vision. There was supposed to be a new moon that night, making the mountains even darker than usual. We were using NVG-50 night vision goggles, the kind that covered both eyes, so the whole world was reduced to green shadows.

The Team

I am going to tell this story the way I remember it, using fake names to protect the identities of the men I was with. Some of them are still active duty. For this story, I will use “Ghost” as the call sign, with Ghost 1 through Ghost 6 making up the team.

Ghost 6 was the team lead on the ground and a good friend of mine. He was as hard as they came: battle-tested, experienced, and already carrying more than fourteen deployments over the course of his career. Nothing really fazed him.

Outside of missions, he was hilarious. On mission, he was the most serious person you would ever meet. He would not joke, would not smile, and would not let his guard down until the job was done and we were on the bird back. That is one of the reasons I believe what happened that night. Ghost 6 did not scare easily.

The Silence in the Mountains

The date was July 2, 2016. We had completed the flight from our Forward Operating Base and rappelled into the landing zone. We came in quietly. At first, the only sounds around us were the normal ones: crickets, insects, and the faint life of the mountains at night.

Ghost 1 was up front. Ghost 6 moved second in the formation. The rest of us followed boots moving carefully over the path. We had done this kind of movement plenty of times before, and for a while everything felt routine.

We were about three kilometers from the target when it happened. As we rounded a bend in the mountain path, the world went silent.

It was not the kind of quiet you expect in the dark. It was complete. No bugs. No animals. No wind. Nothing. All we could hear were our own footsteps.

The Shriek

Then we heard it: a loud, piercing shriek that cut through the silence.

We tucked into the mountainside and tried to locate the sound. Everyone had the same look. We thought we had been compromised. Without a word, we fanned out into a defensive position, ready for whatever came around that corner.

But nothing came.

We stayed still from midnight until about 12:15 a.m., waiting for footsteps, voices, gunfire—anything that would explain what we had heard. Finally, Ghost 6 broke the silence and moved toward the corner.

That was when he saw something.

He started screaming. Not yelling orders. Not calling out contact. Screaming. It was a bloodcurdling sound, completely unlike him.

I sprinted toward him, tackled him, and covered his mouth. I told him to shut up before we got caught. He kept screaming until I ripped off his night vision goggles. The second they came off, he stopped.

Then he looked furious. He kicked me off and demanded to know what I was doing. It was like he had no memory of what had just happened.

I told him he had been screaming. He stared at me like I had lost my mind. Why would he scream when he knew what was at stake?

Everyone except Ghost 6 looked at one another the same way. None of us knew what to believe.

The Figure

When we finally collected ourselves, the mountain sounds returned. The bugs, the animals, the normal background noise of the night all came back at once.

We continued the mission. We still had a job to do. We reached the village, secured the HVT, and started moving back toward the helicopter.

That was when we heard the same shriek again.

We grabbed the target tighter and started moving fast. Nobody wanted to be caught in those mountains when the sun came up.

I looked back and saw it.

A dark figure was chasing us. It looked almost human, but not quite. The shape was wrong. The way it moved was wrong. I turned and fired one round. I watched the shot pass through the figure and strike behind it, but the thing did not react. I had not hit anything solid.

That was when I told the team we had to move. Now.

As we picked up the pace, I realized the silence had returned. No insects. No animals. No wind. Just our boots pounding against the ground. Then I felt it—the urge to scream.

I fought it down. After firing that shot, there was no way I was going to yell and risk drawing more attention. We kept moving as quickly and quietly as we could.

Back on the Bird

When we reached the exfil position, the helicopter crew saw us sprinting and immediately reacted. They shouted, asking what was going on and what we were running from, while they shifted into a fighting position.

We loaded onto the helicopter. I turned back one last time. The normal sounds of the mountains had returned, and nothing was chasing us anymore.

Once we were in the air, I finally asked what everyone else was thinking.

“What the hell was that thing?”

Everyone looked at me and said they had not seen anything. They said they only started running because I said something was chasing us.

Everyone said that except Ghost 6.

I looked at him and asked what he had seen that made him scream. For the first time that night, he broke character. He described the exact same thing I had seen—the same shape, the same movement, the same impossible presence.

What We Never Talked About

After that, I knew I was not crazy. Ghost 6 had seen it too. We both knew it, and neither of us wanted to say more than that.

In the report, the round I fired was logged as a shot at an animal moving near our position. No one corrected it. No one asked questions.

We never talked about that night again. Not in detail. Not over drinks. Not even years later.

But sometimes, when everything goes quiet, I still remember that mountain. I remember the green glow of the goggles, the silence pressing in, and that shape moving through the dark like it had been waiting for us. I do not know what we saw out there. I only know I hope to God it never sees me again.

The Djinn in Afghanistan: A Fictional Military Horror Short Story by Josh