*Note this story is in Tagalog

Siya iyon.

 

Hindi ako maaaring magkamali. Nakita ko siya nang gabing iyon, ang pangil niya at ang kulubot niyang mukha. Ang mga patak ng dugo, nakita ko at sinundan ko iyon hanggang sa bubong.

 

Halimaw ang nakita ko.

 

Nakangiti siya na nakalabas ang mga pangil na ang buhok ay naka-pomada pero siya talaga iyon.

 

Fortunato Leviste ang pangalan niya ayon sa mga napagtanungan ko. Nandito siya para makapangampanya sa pagtakbo niya sa pagka-Gobernador.

 

Kung alam lang nila.

 

Natatandaan ko noong mga bata kami. Lumaki akong palaging pinag-iingat sa gabi lalo na kung may sakit dahil sa mga nilalang na lumilipad na handang bumaba sa bubong at pagpiyestahan ang bituka ng magiging biktima.

 

Kwento pa ng Lola ko noon, maganda raw ang mga halimaw, mapuputi at may mapang-akit na mga mata. Kaya’t pinag-iingat rin ang mga kalalakihan dahil ayon sa mga kwento, pinakakasalan ng mga ito ang biktima nila, pagkatapos ay lilipad at hindi na muling magpapakita.

 

Marahil ay ganoon din sya, magandang lalake at mestiso, kaakit-akit rin sa mga kababaihan. Karamihan ay nagkakandarapang makausap siya.

 

Pero isa lang ang ipinagtataka ko.

 

Hindi ba’t babae lang ang mga manananggal?

 

Binabalikan ko ang mga kwento noon.

 

Babae na natatanggal ang kalahati ng katawan

 

Babaeng may pakpak na tulad ng sa paniki

 

Babaeng hindi na makababalik sa kanilang kalahating katawan kapag nilagyan ito ng abo, suka at asin.

 

Babaeng may mala-sinulid na dila na sumisipsip sa bituka ng kanilang biktima.

Pero hindi.

 

Alam ko ang nakita ko.

 

Nakatayo siya sa di kalayuan sa akin at tumatawa.

 

Ano kayang iniisip niya. Siguro ‘yong susunod niyang biktima?

 

Hindi ko hahayaang mangyari iyon.

 

Matapos ang mga nakita ko.

 

Sinundan ko siya papalabas sa kalsada. Naaamoy ko ang usok ng kaniyang Tabako.

 

Nakita niya ako at ngumiti.

 

Sinabi ko sa kaniya na alam ko kung ano siya at kung anong nais niyang gawin sa akin. Sinabi kong hindi ko hahayaang mangyari iyon at wala nang magiging biktima pa.

 

Tumawa lang siya.

 

Naghihisterikal lang daw ako.

 

Sinong maniniwala sa akin?

 

Ang mga pulis?

 

Mga kaibigan ko?

 

Pamilya ko?

 

Lumapit siya sa akin at tinitigan ako at nagsimula akong kilabutan.

 

“Tutuloy na ako,” and sabi niya, “hindi pa ako naghahapunan”

 

Parang naramdaman ko ang paghaba ng kaniyang dila na hanggang sa may leeg ko

 

Umiiyak akong bumagsak sa sahig.

 

Hindi.

 

Hindi maaaring hayaan ko na lang siya.

 

Natunton ko na ang kaniyang lungga.

At ito. Asin, suka at kutsilyo.

 

Sana’y sapat na ito.

 

Diyos ko, sana…

 

=——————————————–=

English Version

It’s him.

At first, I didn’t recognize him. That night, I saw a twisted face and fangs. I saw the blood-red thread and followed it to the roof.

And I saw the monster.

The fangs are replaced by a gleeful smile and the hair is slicked back with too much pomade, but it’s the same face.

I ask around and find out that his name is Fortunato Leviste. He’s in the area trying to get some votes to be the governor.

If only they knew.

Growing up we’d be told to be careful in the night, especially if we were sick. There were creatures that flew through the moonlit sky, ready to land on your roof and feast on your bowels.

My lola told me a story once about these monsters. She said they were beautiful, with ivory-white skin and alluring eyes. Men were warned against this beauty though, for it was said that they marry their victims and flee, never to be seen again.

Maybe he’s doing the same here. He’s handsome and mestizo, charming every woman in the room. They’re practically falling over themselves to have a conversation with him.

But one thing keeps nagging me.

Mananaggal are only female, right?

I think back to all the stories.

Women that remove the upper half of their bodies.

Women with batlike wings.

Women that can’t reconnect their lower parts if it’s covered with ash, vinegar or salt.

Women with a threadlike tongue that sucks the bowels of their victims and feast on them.

No.

I know what I saw.

He’s standing four feet away from me and laughing.

I wonder what he’s thinking about. His next victim perhaps?

I won’t let that happen.

Not after what I’ve seen.

I follow him out the door into the street. The smell of tobacco cloyingly lingers on my nose.

He sees me and his smile widens.

Then I tell him I know what he is and I know what he tried to do to me. I tell him I won’t let that happen, that there would be no more victims.

And then he laughs.

He tells me I’m just a hysterical girl.

Who would believe me?

The police?

My friends?

My family?

What could they do?

He walks by me and looks me in the eye. Fear rolls down my spine.

“I’m going to go ahead,” he says “I haven’t had dinner.”

I could feel his tongue get longer, long enough to reach the back of my neck.

I fall to the ground, tears streaming down my face.

No.

I won’t give him the satisfaction.

I find out where he’s staying.

And prepare.

Salt, garlic and a knife.

I hope this is enough.

Please God, let this be enough.

=——————————————-=

*The Iqui is also known as Ikki / Ike

*Tagalog is an Austronesian language spoken as a first language by a quarter of the population of the Philippines and as a second language by the majority. Its standardized form, officially named Filipino, is the national language of the Philippines, and is one of two official languages alongside English.
 
Written by Karl Gaverza
Translation by Danica Jean A. Ortiz a.k.a. Nica MaKatha
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Danica Jean A. Ortiz a.k.a. Nica MaKatha

Story inspired by the Iqui description in Creatures of Philippine Lower Mythology. Ramos. 1971.

Iqui Illustration by Michael Sean B. Talavera
IG: @maykelshan
Deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/isaneleach13

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