The Ghosts of Hong Kong: Where East Meets the Underworld

Hong Kong is one of the most densely populated places on Earth—over 7 million people packed into just 426 square miles of usable land. But there’s another population sharing that space: the dead. Hong Kong’s history is soaked in blood—Japanese occupation massacres, plague epidemics that killed thousands, construction deaths covered up, and millennia of Chinese burial traditions that make the relationship between living and dead closer than anywhere in the West. Nam Koo Terrace, where Japanese soldiers tortured and murdered, is so haunted that developers have been unable to use the property for decades. The Sai Ying Pun Community Complex was built directly on a WWII mass execution site. Every August, during the Hungry Ghost Festival, Hong Kong’s residents burn offerings and stage performances for spirits who walk among them for an entire month. In a city where every square foot is precious, the dead still claim their territory. Hong Kong may be a gleaming financial center, but its ghosts have never left.

The History

The Colonial Foundation

Before Britain arrived, Hong Kong was a modest fishing village, part of China for millennia. Buddhist and Taoist traditions shaped its spiritual landscape, and ancestor worship was deeply rooted in every aspect of daily life. The dead were always honored, always remembered, always close.

When Britain took control in 1841, following the Opium War, Hong Kong rapidly transformed into a major trading port. East and West cultures merged in ways both productive and volatile. Death came from many sources during this period—plagues swept through the overcrowded settlements, wars flared, and industrial accidents claimed lives with grim regularity.

The Japanese Occupation (1941-1945)

On December 8, 1941, Japanese forces invaded Hong Kong from the mainland. The British garrison, overwhelmed and outgunned, held out for just over two weeks before surrendering on Christmas Day. What followed were three years of the most brutal occupation the city has ever known.

The atrocities were systematic and devastating. Mass executions of prisoners of war became routine. Civilians were tortured without cause. “Comfort women” stations were established to serve the occupying soldiers. Starvation policies reduced the population to desperation, and random killings kept survivors in a state of perpetual terror. Thousands were executed outright, and many more perished from starvation and disease that swept through the internment camps. Bodies were buried in mass graves scattered across the territory, and the trauma of those years has never fully healed.

Post-War Growth

After 1945, Hong Kong experienced a population explosion as refugees flooded in from mainland China. The limited land and extreme density meant that the city had no choice but to build over its own history, including over graves. Construction accidents were covered up with alarming frequency—workers died building the towers and infrastructure of modern Hong Kong, their deaths often hidden from public records, their spirits remaining in the very structures they gave their lives to construct.

The Haunted Sites

Nam Koo Terrace

Built between 1915 and 1918 as a luxury residence, Nam Koo Terrace’s true horror began during the Japanese occupation, when the building was seized and converted into a brothel for “comfort women.” Women from across Asia were brought to the terrace and forced into sexual slavery. Those who resisted were tortured. Those deemed no longer useful were killed. The suffering that took place within those walls was unimaginable, and it has left a permanent stain on the site.

Today, screams are heard at night emanating from the empty building. Women have been seen standing in the darkened windows. Visitors who have entered the abandoned structure report an overwhelming sense of dread, and multiple urban explorers have experienced acute psychological crises inside, including suicide attempts. Some who ventured in never fully recovered mentally.

The building has remained abandoned for decades, despite sitting on some of the most valuable real estate in Asia. While legal disputes are cited as the official reason for its disuse, persistent rumors suggest the real obstacle is something else entirely—developers refuse to touch the property, workers report disturbing incidents when they approach, and every plan for restoration has stalled. Nam Koo Terrace was designated a Grade 1 Historic Building, but it continues to sit empty and waiting, its ghosts apparently unwilling to yield their territory.

Sai Ying Pun Community Complex

During the Japanese occupation, the site where the Sai Ying Pun Community Complex now stands served as an execution ground. Hundreds were killed here, their bodies buried in mass graves that were forgotten once the war ended. When construction began on the community complex in the 1970s, workers discovered human remains. Construction accidents plagued the project, and strange incidents were reported throughout the building process.

The modern facility is troubled by cold spots that appear throughout the building, footsteps echoing in empty corridors, elevators stopping at floors no one has selected, and persistent electronic malfunctions. Staff members speak of feeling watched, of sudden waves of dread washing over them without warning, and of glimpsing figures that vanish when approached. The weight of the site’s history presses down on everyone who works there, and the executed, it seems, have never left.

High Island Reservoir

The massive water supply project of the 1970s brought workers from across Asia to build Hong Kong’s High Island Reservoir. The conditions were dangerous, the schedule was rushed, and corners were cut. According to persistent legend, workers fell into the concrete during construction and their bodies were never recovered—entombed forever within the dam itself, their spirits trapped beneath the water.

Figures have been seen in the reservoir waters, particularly near the dam structure and especially at night. The apparitions are described as drowned workers, still visible after decades. Official records from the construction period are incomplete, and families of missing workers were allegedly never notified. Whether the legend is literally true or not, visitors consistently report an unsettling presence near the water, as though the dead are seeking the acknowledgment they were denied in life.

Kowloon Walled City (Demolished)

Before its demolition in 1993-1994, Kowloon Walled City was the most densely populated place in human history—33,000 people crammed into just 6.5 acres. It was lawless and ungoverned, a vertical slum where no sunlight reached the lower floors. Disease was rampant, murders went unpunished, drug overdoses were commonplace, suicides were frequent, and people simply disappeared without anyone investigating.

The site is now a tranquil park, but the energy of what once stood there persists. Visitors report strange feelings among the manicured gardens, and shadows move where no one walks. The history of 33,000 lives lived in such extreme conditions has left a residue that landscaping cannot remove.

Pokfulam Road

Pokfulam Road is one of Hong Kong’s most dangerous thoroughfares, a winding mountain highway with a fatal accident rate that some say exceeds what chance alone would predict. The spirits of crash victims are said to appear on the road itself, causing further accidents in an ongoing cycle of death. Drivers report seeing figures suddenly illuminated in their headlights, cars that appear and then vanish, sudden unexplained fog banks, and engine failures at the worst possible moments. The mountain, it seems, continues to claim its victims.

The Hungry Ghost Festival

Yulan Festival

During the seventh lunar month, usually falling in August or September, the gates of hell open and all spirits return to earth. This is not limited to one’s own ancestors—every ghost, every restless soul, every hungry spirit can roam freely for an entire month. The hungry ghosts seek sustenance and comfort from the living, and they must be appeased or they will cause trouble.

The Practices

The practices of appeasement are elaborate and deeply felt. Paper money known as “hell notes” is burned in enormous quantities, along with paper replicas of houses, cars, phones, and anything else the spirits might need in the afterlife. Billions of dollars’ worth of paper offerings go up in smoke each year. Tables are set with food and incense at roadsides, in front of buildings, and everywhere spirits might pass.

Chinese opera is staged during the festival, with the first rows of seats left conspicuously empty—reserved for the ghost audience. This practice is observed with genuine seriousness. The dead attend, and the living make room for them.

Modern Observance

Even secular Hong Kongers observe the Hungry Ghost Festival, following the logic that it is better to be safe than sorry. The traditions persist with surprising strength in one of the world’s most modern cities, and the smoke of offerings fills the air throughout the month.

During this period, Hong Kongers avoid swimming, as drowning ghosts are believed to pull the living underwater. Moving house, starting a new business, and making major life decisions are all postponed until the month passes. The entire period is considered deeply unlucky for new ventures of any kind.

Chinese Ghost Beliefs

The Tradition

Ancestor worship is central to Chinese culture, and the relationship between the living and the dead does not end at the grave. Ancestors require regular offerings and continued honor. Those who are neglected become problems—hungry, angry, and dangerous. The types of ghosts recognized in Chinese tradition include ancestors, who are generally benevolent when properly honored; hungry ghosts, neglected spirits who become dangerous; vengeful spirits, typically murder victims or those who were deeply wronged; and lost souls, those who received improper burial. Each category requires a different approach and different rituals to manage.

Hong Kong Specifics

In Hong Kong, ghost beliefs shape the physical city itself. Feng shui principles govern building design, with ghost doors incorporated into structures and spirit screens placed at entrances to deflect wandering ghosts. The number four is avoided throughout Hong Kong’s architecture because in Cantonese, “four” (四, sei) sounds identical to “death” (死, sei). Many buildings skip the fourth floor entirely, along with the fourteenth, twenty-fourth, and sometimes every floor containing the digit four. Some buildings leap from floor 3 directly to floor 5, or designate it as 3A. The dead literally influence the shape of the skyline.

One of the most practical manifestations of ghost belief is the phenomenon of “ghost apartments”—units where a death has occurred, which must be legally disclosed and sell at significant discounts. In a city with some of the world’s highest real estate prices, some pragmatic residents actively seek out these haunted bargains, willing to share their space with the dead in exchange for affordable rent.

Other Haunted Locations

Old Stanley Prison

The colonial-era Stanley Prison saw some of the occupation’s worst horrors when the Japanese used it as an execution site for prisoners of war. After the war, it continued operating as a prison until 2006 and has since been converted into a museum and gallery. The execution victims appear to remain—soldiers have been seen walking the grounds, cell doors slam shut on their own, and screams pierce the night from within the old walls.

Tai O Fishing Village

One of Hong Kong’s oldest settlements, Tai O is a traditional fishing village of stilt houses perched over the water. Centuries of fisherman drownings have left their mark on this atmospheric place. Mysterious lights appear on the water at night, figures are seen walking between the houses, and the pervasive feeling of being watched never quite fades. The past is very much present in Tai O.

Cheung Chau Island

The annual Bun Festival on Cheung Chau Island exists specifically to appease the ghosts of a devastating nineteenth-century plague that killed thousands of residents. The festival, still held every year, is a pacification ritual—an acknowledgment that the plague dead remain and must be given their due. The widespread belief is that if the festival were ever discontinued, the consequences would be severe. The dead expect what they have been promised.

Investigations and Evidence

Documented Cases

At Nam Koo Terrace, multiple cases of urban explorers experiencing psychiatric crises have been documented. People have left the building in states of terror, and the consistency of witness accounts across years and across individuals who had no contact with one another suggests that something within the building genuinely affects visitors.

Reports from the Sai Ying Pun Community Complex span decades and come from staff members, maintenance workers, and security guards independently. The pattern of activity has remained consistent over time, lending credibility to the accounts even as physical evidence remains limited.

The Challenge of Research

Ghost beliefs in Hong Kong are serious and deeply held—they are not treated as entertainment or curiosity. Any investigation must be conducted with cultural sensitivity and genuine respect for the dead. Personal testimonies are abundant and remarkably consistent, though the phenomena resist easy capture by conventional recording equipment. Hong Kongers do not joke about their ghosts.

Visiting Haunted Hong Kong

Accessible Sites

Nam Koo Terrace at 55 Ship Street in Wan Chai can be viewed from outside, though entering the structure is both illegal and dangerous due to its deteriorating condition. Legal issues around trespassing are taken seriously, and the exterior alone provides a sufficiently haunting experience. The Sai Ying Pun Community Complex is a public facility that visitors can enter normally, though the activity reported there tends to be subtle. Pokfulam Road can be driven, but caution is essential, particularly at night—it is beautiful but dangerous, and many have died on its curves.

Ghost Tours

Various commercial companies offer walking tours of Hong Kong’s haunted sites, mixing historical context with accounts of supernatural activity. Quality varies considerably, so research beforehand is advisable.

Timing

The Hungry Ghost Month is the most atmospheric time to experience haunted Hong Kong, offering the chance to witness the festivals and understand the culture firsthand. However, the month is treated with genuine seriousness, and respectful behavior is essential. That said, Hong Kong’s haunting is a year-round affair—Ghost Month intensifies the activity, but the dead do not take vacations, and neither should those who seek them.

Frequently Asked Questions

Why is Hong Kong so haunted?

Combination of factors: dense population meaning many deaths in small area, traumatic history (Japanese occupation especially), Chinese cultural beliefs that maintain connection with dead, and rapid development that disturbed graves. The living and dead share limited space.

What is the Hungry Ghost Festival?

A month-long observance (usually August/September) when the gates of hell open and all spirits can roam Earth. Offerings are burned, food is left out, and Chinese opera is performed for ghost audiences. It’s taken seriously by most Hong Kongers regardless of other religious beliefs.

Can you visit Nam Koo Terrace?

You can view it from Ship Street in Wan Chai, but entering is illegal (private property) and dangerous (structurally unsound). Multiple people have had psychological crises after entering. It’s best observed from outside—the atmosphere is apparent even from the street.

Is the High Island Reservoir really haunted by construction workers?

The legend says workers died during construction and their bodies were covered up, possibly entombed in concrete. Official records are incomplete. Whether true or legend, visitors report seeing figures near the water, especially around the dam structure.

Why do Hong Kong buildings skip the fourth floor?

In Cantonese, “four” (四, sei) sounds like “death” (死, sei). Many buildings omit floors 4, 14, 24, 34, 40-49, etc. Some buildings go from 3 to 5, or use 3A. It’s a practical accommodation to ghost beliefs—bad luck to live on a “death” floor.

Hong Kong’s Haunted Reality

Hong Kong teaches us that density concentrates spirits, that history cannot be buried by building over graves, that culture shapes the experience of the supernatural, and that the modern and the ancient coexist more easily than we might expect. Skyscrapers and spirits share the same streets in this city.

Hong Kong glitters with neon and ambition, a financial capital where real estate costs more per square foot than almost anywhere on Earth. But beneath the glass towers, the dead maintain their claim.

The comfort women still scream at Nam Koo Terrace. The executed still walk at Sai Ying Pun. The construction workers still haunt the reservoir they built and died in. And every August, seven million living Hong Kongers acknowledge their ghostly neighbors—burning offerings, leaving food, watching opera with empty seats in the front rows.

In Hong Kong, there’s no pretending the dead are gone. They’re part of the city’s population. They claim their space. They expect their due.

The living have learned to share.

---

WWII massacres, plague dead, construction victims, and millennia of Chinese tradition. Nam Koo Terrace too haunted to develop. Mass graves beneath community centers. The Hungry Ghost Festival’s month-long acknowledgment: in Hong Kong, the dead never left. They just became neighbors.

Sources

• Wikipedia search: “The Ghosts of Hong Kong: Where East Meets the Underworld”