The moon, afraid to shine its light, retreated behind the clouds.
Perfect. Sonja thought. I hope they didn’t start without me.
The muffled voices inside the bag were starting to get louder, but nothing a swift kick wouldn’t fix. She knew there was magic that she could use to put them to sleep, she decided against it though. Sonja always thought that a little fear did wonders for flavor.
The meeting spot was in a grove in the outskirts of the city. Since the days of the old kingdoms they would meet and share in the feast. It was an amusing irony that the feast was on the same day as the birth of the virgin’s child.
Sonja dragged the sack to the entrance of the grove. The feast would take all night and she didn’t want to take any risks. She would leave her legs inside the grove and celebrate throughout the night.
Guarding the grove this time was a mangingilaw. “You’re far from home,” Sonja said.
“I go where I am invited,” he replied.
“What did you bring?” Sonja tossed the bag to the giant’s feet.
“Something raw.”
“Of course, that’s what your kind likes. Am I late?”
“Enter, mananaggal, we have not yet started.”
Sonja sighed with relief. The opening ceremony was the best part. She left her legs by a nearby tree and soared upwards.
There she joined the flock, swirling above the trees.
Countless alibadut, abat, kubot, alan, bannog, magkukutud, kalibadut and other flying horrors moved in tandem. Without moonlight they only had their intuition to guide their sinister dance.
Accompanying this was the raucous roar of the terrestrial guests of the night. The bungisngis, kiwig and kulukupap, among many others, lent their voices to the celebration.
The ceremony ended as the king of the mangkukulam took his place on the throne of bones and blood.
Sonja was surprised how orderly everything was, each group had their own space in the grove to gather meat for the feast.
She wanted to try the different offerings and didn’t know where to start. The scent of blood from the mandurugo corner made her salivate, the clang from the pirotso’s pot signaled fresh children, there was a collection of heads by the saga-ih complete with the flesh intact.
There were also more ‘modern’ takes on the classics: Crispy dinuguan with deep fried lamang-loob, finger and eyeball bulalo and sizzling hearts with brain sauce.
Sonja was getting hungrier by the minute and she chose the spot beside her where a tigabulak stood. He was standing in front of a table with a large cutting board and a cleaver. Cries of help were echoing from the sack behind him, filling Sonja with glee. Such fresh meat prepared by a tigabulak would be quite a delicacy, he even let Sonja choose which child.
As Sonja was pointing to a small girl, about five years old, a commotion was thundering near her.
The tigabulak, visibly annoyed, said, “Who invited that here?”
Sonja flew up to see what was happening and she immediately recognized the mamam, pushing its way through the feast.
Ever since the incident many moons ago, all of the horrors decided to hide the feast from the mamam, lest the celebration turn into disaster.
The other giants like the mangingilaw and timu-timu were trying to hold it off, but the creature was unstoppable once food was placed in front of him. It would not even stop against a fellow halimaw.
Sonja could see that most were already trying to escape, taking their share of the feast with them. An alan even darted past her, carrying a small child.
Instinct told Sonja that she should run far and run fast, but she couldn’t take her eyes away from the spectacle.
It had been an hour since the mamam started its rampage. The bloodied corpses of the bungisngis and ogro decorating the slaughter. Those that stayed to guard their food were fighting a losing battle.
The mamam knew no allegiance apart from hunger.
Aswang or human, it ate them all the same.
Sonja could see clever humans taking advantage of the chaos and running for their lives. A pregnant woman even managed to slip into the forest while her wak-wak captor was distracted.
No might or magic could stop it. The king of the mangkukulam had his witches try inflicting pain on the creature but that only seemed to make it even hungrier. Two mangkukulam met their end when the mamam swallowed them whole.
In the aftermath the mamam stood. No corpses, no bones to mark the trail of its passing.
Sonja took in the carnage and fled to her legs, her stomach empty on the night of the feast.
Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Inspired by the Mamam description in Bikol Beliefs and Folkways: A Showcase of Tradition. Nasayao 2010.
Mamam Illustration by Jesus Miguel Ofalsa
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