Mambubuno

The life of a fisherman is difficult. It is made even worse by the spirits of the water.

Lakan knew about the stories, how to avoid sirenas and their songs. About the terror of the ‘Aswang ng Dagat’, the Magindara. The way ugkoy would drown you by dragging by your feet to their watery realm. Even being wary about the souls wandering the seascape, from the santelmo to the bunog (horse like water elementals).

He thought he knew everything.

But she was new to him.

The moon was bright that night, her gossamer light illuminating the beach.

She was there, basking on a nearby rock. He would have thought she was a sirena if not for her tail, or tails, he should say.

Her allure was mesmerizing.

Lakan was ready for this though. He had survived many skirmishes with the people of the deep.

All he had to do was say ‘no’.

He bit the side of his cheek; the pain was sobering. The taste of blood reminding him that he was stronger than her. He would not surrender.

The other sirena wanted him as a husband.

There was a story told by his cousin, about the realm of the deep. He said that he could not leave unless his sirena wife permitted it.

No one believed him.

No one that mattered, anyway.

There was another tale, also by a youth of the village, about the splendor of the queendoms of the worlds of the sea.

It was a heavy task, escaping the space he was used to. Every whim that he wished was taken cared of. But he knew it was a gilded cage. He made an ally, a siyokoy who told him that humans that try to escape ended up being drowned by their deep-spirit benefactor.

The siyokoy said the youth was lucky.

Time is not what it is in the world above, that was the purview of the queen of the deep.
The siyokoy told of mortals that spent what they thought were days underwater but when the sirena bade him to go back, he would find years passed in his home.

The queen was the master of the flow, arbiter of the gods of time. Her word was law and her subjects could only defer to her about matters both spiritual and incarnate.

All that gave strength to Lakan.

It was attainable to escape from their clutches.

He tried to run, but he knew even that would be a struggle. Whatever she was she didn’t need a song.

She gestured him to follow her to deeper waters.

The pain was not enough to detach himself from her glamour.

But he had prepared for this. A year ago he was targeted by a sirena, she made him jump from his boat. He found that she was able to make him breathe underwater.

This creature could do the same.

He was still involuntarily wading towards her.

And he did to her what he did to the sirena.

He took out his bolo and slashed the water, making a cross. The creature screamed, one of her tails badly wounded.

Lakan then took out his rosary and prayed to his god.

He was in front of the creature and pressed the rosary to its forehead.

It screamed, the sound reverberating through the moonlit night.

As the sun rose Lakan knew it was over.

For now.

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Written by Karl Gaverza

Story inspired by the Mambububo entry in the Creatures of Midnight , Maximo Ramos, Phoenix Publishing, 1990