Halloween special: HK adland leaders share their spookiest experiences

Halloween transforms Hong Kong's advertising world into a playground of the macabre. It’s the one season where brands actively put out creatively terrifying campaigns.

For example, this year, Fanta has teamed up with Universal Pictures to summon three classic horror characters to appear on its limited-edition Halloween packaging. Don Julio, a handcrafted tequila brand from Mexico, has brought Mexico’s Day of the Dead to Hong Kong with a citywide cocktail campaign.

But beyond the spine-tingling campaigns dominating this season, Hong Kong’s agency teams have lived through some hair-raising work stories. From business trips that take an unexpected turn into the uncanny, to eerie encounters following late-night brainstorming sessions, or even unexplained incidents that disrupt on-location shoots.

We reached out to several Hong Kong agencies to share their spooky real-life encounters within the industry ecosystem.

Here are some of their horrific moments.

John Koay, executive creative director, Edelman Hong Kong

Scary stories throughout my career? I have a few unexplainable ones up my sleeve, but I'll pick one that's closer to home. I'll never forget my TVC shoot in Clear Water Bay studios several years ago...

It was 3am. We were about to shoot the final scene and the art director said "Quiet on set. Roll camera... annnnd action!"  We heard several voices murmuring from different directions. Suddenly he shouted "Cut!" He looked around and angrily yelled "I said quiet on set! Stop talking damn it!" and looked around. But none of the crew were talking and the voices grew louder and more aggressive.

My lead agency producer who had been in this industry for decades whispered something in his ear then his tone changed. He looked around, clasped his hands in praying position and said "Excuse us, we are so sorry we're causing you inconvenience. Please let us shoot this last scene and we will be on our way. My bad for telling you to be quiet" Suddenly it went silent and we shot our last scene. As soon as the director said "That's a wrap" everyone fled the studio as quickly as we could haha! 

Word on the street is that the studios are haunted at night and sometimes you have to show some basic courtesy. So next time anyone shoots there, you'll know what to do!

Jarvis Wong, partner, Omelette Digital

The closest I’ve ever come to a spooky work experience was during our 2023 campaign for pandamart—when we decided it was a good idea to film ghostly car-cam videos in the middle of the night, deep in Hong Kong’s rural backroads. The mission? To spook people with the mysterious late-night appearances of shocking-pink delivery riders in places where even Google Maps gets nervous. Halfway through, two teammates fell mysteriously ill, and one swore he saw “something” moving in the shadows (we still don’t talk about it).

Was it worth it? I’m still not sure — but the videos went wildly viral, racking up tons of organic media coverage in just 48 hours across TV (東張西望), AM730, on.cc, HK01, and even caught the attention of ghost-hunter-in-chief 潘紹聰 and a Malaysian newspaper. So yes—we may have lost a little sleep (and possibly gained a spirit or two), but at least the campaign had hauntingly good results.

Nonthaporn Ketmanee, senior creative director, Publicis Groupe Hong Kong

It was 3 am, right before my colleagues and I shut the door of the retouching production studio. The door connected directly to the parking building. As we turned around, our eyes struggled to adjust from the brightness inside to complete darkness outside.

We walked toward my car using the iPhone’s flashlight. We were exhausted and moved in silence, saying nothing—just walking. I unlocked the car door and got ready to drive.

Imagine it’s 2018, when the technology was still dated, no reverse camera, no screen. I shifted the gear to “R,” pressed the brake, and started to reverse out of the parking spot. Suddenly, we all heard the alert sound, like someone or a dog was behind the car. I turned to look at my friends. We were stunned, waiting to see if it was a dog. But nothing moved.

I looked out the rear window, still nothing. I tried reversing again. This time, the sensor beeped more frequently and louder, as if I were about to hit something. We all looked back again, still nothing. No one was there.

We looked at each other, uneasy. Then one of my friends said quietly, “Drive.”

We instantly felt awake. I drove in silence through the dark ramp, from level ten down to the ground floor. No one said a word, and we never talked about it again until the next day. That’s when the producer told us about the parking lot how it’s connected to the old hotel above, known for its strange, complex elevator system. The building used to be a place where powerful people hung out. Many events had taken place there some involving crime. He ended the story with a chilling warning: “Watch out for the ghost.”

Alfred Wong, chief creative officer, VML Hong Kong

We're in the ad industry, so I just want to share a well-known urban myth from Hong Kong's ad world—one that hooked me as a child.

Back then, a railway company launched a heartwarming TV spot: a group of children in old-fashioned styling, linking arms like train cars, joyfully chugging through the woods as a human locomotive. Their faces beamed with innocent smiles—you can just picture the warm, nostalgic glow of it all.

But it aired, sparking citywide panic with chilling rumours. Viewers paused frames, spotting ghostly kids flickering in the line, headcounts shifting oddly. Creepier still: blood on lips, sly twisted grins and pale, lifeless faces - like spirits frozen mid-play. People hunted down the crew and actors to debunk it.

Over 30 years later, it is still a myth. Digging it up wasn’t what drew me to ads, but witnessing advertising's raw, viral power firsthand. Maybe that was the eerie spark that first chained me to this field.

Johnny Ng, VP, marketing and growth, WPP Media Hong Kong

Growing up as an American-Born Chinese in New York, I was pretty ignorant and skeptical about ghosts, with my understanding of the afterlife rooted in Western narratives. But after 18 years in Hong Kong and Asia, I'm convinced: ghosts are real! And it's not scary; it's just part of life here. Even that movie, "The Last Dance," really gets the death rituals right.

My “ghost journey” started pre-COVID, back when I travelled a lot for work. One time I stayed at a hotel in Jakarta, my room was freezing, but not like the refreshing blast of air-conditioning we Hong Kongers are accustomed to. It was a deep, unnatural cold. I tried adjusting the thermostat, took hot baths, but nothing helped. Sleep was impossible. I didn't physically see anything, but the vibe was definitely off.

Later, I told an Indonesian friend about it. Before I even named the hotel, she already knew which one I was talking about—having stayed there and exchanged her own stories with friends who’d actually seen things. That gave me real chills.

That talk changed everything. Now, like many superstitious Chinese, I avoid corner hotel rooms (where I’m told they tend to lurk), and I knock on the doors before going in. It's a polite way to ask any "residents" to leave me alone. And for extra protection, my kids and I wear special blessed necklaces. It serves as a shield against anything spooky that we can’t see.

What’s comforting for me to know is that these ghosts aren’t really out to get you—and in fact, they don’t want you to even be able to see them—so provided we don’t show any disrespect, we can peacefully co-exist in the same realm. Happy Halloween!

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Halloween special: Industry players in HK recall their horrifying encounters
Halloween special: HK marketers share their chilling horror stories
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