Stories Philippines Podcast - Pinoy Horror Stories
Oct 18, 2026 · 53 min · 19 segments
Four households. Four small tenants. One rule nobody told the newcomers. A Pampanga farmer inherits land with a mound on it and skips the offerings his father never skipped. A Marikina plumber opens…
Paul, the mound is yours.
Ten hectares of rice land, a concrete farmhouse from the 70s, and a Nipah hut near the back property line where my grandfather used to rest.
We did not move in right away.
Then, my parents separated.
Me and my younger brother, Gabby.
I was 15.
I hated it immediately.
No neighbors, no signal, and a house that felt wrong the way a held breath feels wrong.
Our neighbor, Aling Rosa, came to welcome us.
She told my father to talk to the old man who took care of the Nipah hut before doing anything with the property.
My father said he had already cleaned the hut himself.
Aling Rosa got a strange look and said, you should have asked first.
My father was managing a divorce, two kids, and a farm.
He ignored her.
I understood that then.
I understand the cost of it now.
The back of the property had a small mound of earth, half a meter tall, grass-covered, dome-shaped.
I thought it was an overgrown molehill.
The second week, tools started going missing.
A hammer, a screwdriver.
My father blamed Gabby.
Gabby blamed me.
I had touched nothing.
Paul, the mound is yours.
Ten hectares of rice land, a concrete farmhouse from the 70s, and a Nipah hut near the back property line where my grandfather used to rest.
We did not move in right away.
Then, my parents separated.
Me and my younger brother, Gabby.
I was 15.
I hated it immediately.
No neighbors, no signal, and a house that felt wrong the way a held breath feels wrong.
Our neighbor, Aling Rosa, came to welcome us.
She told my father to talk to the old man who took care of the Nipah hut before doing anything with the property.
My father said he had already cleaned the hut himself.
Aling Rosa got a strange look and said, you should have asked first.
My father was managing a divorce, two kids, and a farm.
He ignored her.
I understood that then.
I understand the cost of it now.
The back of the property had a small mound of earth, half a meter tall, grass-covered, dome-shaped.
I thought it was an overgrown molehill.
The second week, tools started going missing.
A hammer, a screwdriver.
My father blamed Gabby.
Gabby blamed me.
I had touched nothing.
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