Some old place... some old story.

Every time you mention a place someone comes up with a story behind it.  A colleague asked about my kids.  I said the youngest is in National Service camp.

Where?  She asked.

Sik.  A jungle clearing on the edge of a kampung. A place called Kem Rimba Taqwa.  I said.

Oh...  That place is not very clean.  She said.  It's an ex-army camp.

Yeah, you're right.  They haven't started the clean up job yet.  The facilities aren't quite up to expectations.  You know, maintenance isn't one of our strong points.

No, I don't mean that.  I mean, that place is spooky.

How do you know?

My father-in-law was a staff sargeant stationed there many years ago.  One night the captain was reading in his room by candle-light.  Suddenly, he noticed that the candle was moving slowly from one end of his desk to another.  He ignored it.  The candle moved again slowly back to its original place.  The third time it moved, he decided he's had enough.  He drew his pistol and cocked it. 

"Do that again and I'll shoot," he warned.  The candle stopped moving.  He finished his reading and went to bed.

Next morning, on his way to breakfast, the captain fell down a flight of stairs. 
On his hospital bed he vehemently declared that someone pushed him.

Well, it's been many years since then and many national service trainings have been carried out in that camp.  Any old ghost would have shied away from that place.  I don't think they feel comfortable staying around humans either.  But it would be wise not to challenge them.