This is a story that was told to me by my father when I was about 5 years old. I still remember it probably because of it's eerie context and the imagination I perceived at that age which I can still picture effulgently. In Pakistan, it's almost like a tradition for older people to pass down horror stories which they lived through to the young'uns.
My father was born and raised in a village back in the 50's. Not very populated, a rural setting. My father, his brother (my uncle), and his uncle were traveling by a horse carriage to the some other village, as cars were not very capaciously driven back then. It was nighttime, somberness surrounded their path. The only sound to be heard of was the horse's hooves, and the Coachman's whip.
Soon to be heard was some other sound, a sound that my father would never forget for the rest of his life and would pass on to me. It was a shrieky cry which called out all three of their names and kept saying "wait for me," "take me with you also." My father and his brother, being little kids at that time, got really scared and clutched on to their uncle.
What really sends shivers down my spine and still does to date is that when their uncle told the coachman to speed up the carriage, they still heard the voice as if it were traveling at the same speed. Theoretically, that's not possible because a horse can run faster than a human. Also, the path which persisted their journey was used at night but only by carriages, not on foot. Thanks for reading.