Growing up in Pakistan, my aunt often told me stories of striking women lurking in deserted allies hunting for unassuming men. She would say, “They are called churails and the only way to tell who there are, is to look at their feet—they are always turned backward. Churails wear flowing white gowns and have beautiful glowing skin with long black hair — a perfect disguise to attract young men. As soon as the churail comes close enough to her prey, she turns into her real form—an old hag with rotting flesh and blood-red eyes. She possesses her victim’s mind and he is never the same again.”
What are some of the stories that you grew up hearing about churails or witches? I’d love to hear accounts from different cultures. Please share by commenting here.
