*Note this story is in Hiligaynon

Kalipayan niya ang ti-on sang kapistahan kada Disyembre tungod sa mga pamatan-on. Ka mga inosente sa ila, kadasig mag salig, ka mga dasig intu-on.

Parehos abi kay Jonah, gin bayaan lang siya ka dali sang iya ginikanan, nang laguyaw na siya dayon. Sa pag lagaw-lagaw niya, naka kita siya sang tigulang nga lalaki, may gina sukbit nga sako sa abaga.

“Ikaw si Santa Klaws ay?”, hambal ni Jonah. Nagsabat ang tigulang, “Abaw huo e! Gusto mo sang regalo haw?”

Ang gamay nga si Jonah, nag lingling sa sako, ano bala nga kalipay sang bata nga makabaton bag-o nga hampanganan. Wala gid siya naka pangaman, may nag lampos sang ulo niya kag wala na siya animo.

Hay, ang mga kabataan subong, puros na mga gaka wili sa mga gamit, ka lain man nga gamiton mo na para intuon sila.

Lain naman ni ya ang istorya ni Lualhati. Siya gid ni ang pinaka buotan nga bata nga gina pangamuyo ukon gina gusto nga bata sang isa ka mag-awasa. Ang iya pirme nga ubra, mag bantay sa iya mga kamanghuran.

Isog man ni siya nga bata, sang ging tambangan sila sang tigulang nga lalaki, gina sabad niya ini para lang nga maka dalagan palayo ang manghod niya nga lalaki, kag tungod da, siya ang ging sulod sa sako sang tigulang.

Ari naman ya ang bata nga si Flordeliza, gamay pa lang pero pirte na ka suplada. Indi mo ni ma istorya kung indi mo pag hatagan sang mga dulsi ukon panyam-is.

Ging into-into ini sya sang tigulang nga lalaki pakadto sa isa ka gamay nga alagyan. Bag-o pa siya maka syagit, ging sulod siya dayon sa sako upod sang iban pa nga mga bata.

Si Rizalino naman, pirme lang ga duko-duko ang ulo. Gapati gid abi ang iya ginikanan nga makabulig gid dako ang teknolohiya sa pag padako sa mga pamatan-on.

Kalipay gid niya sang makabaton siya sang tablet. Pila ka mga inoras ang ging kunsumo niya sa paglantaw sang maanyag nga mga kinarton kag mga hampang-hampang. Ging tratar na niya nga iya na kabuhi ang tablet.

Sa subrahan nga kalingaw niya sa tablet, wala gid siya nag abi-abi sa palibot niya, ging palapitan siya gali sang tigulang nga lalaki kag ging sulod sa sako.

Ang pinaka ulihi, si Amor, ang retobada nga bata.  Nag layas ni siya halin sa ila balay kag nag layaw sa banwa kay indi niya gusto mamati sa ginikanan niya pirme lang ga sinilinggitan sa sulod-balay.

Kapila gid mag paandam ang iya ginikanan nga ‘Indi mag-istorya sa mga indi mo kilala’, pero anhon ta ina kay natural nga tig-a ulo man bi ang mga bata. Abi nila daw kabalo na gid sila sang tanan-tanan. Amo na ila panumdumon, pero kung patilawon mo na, dira gid na sila guro mag balalag-o.

Ging sigurado sang tigulang nga lalaki nga kumpleto na ang tanan nga panakot sa iya espesyal nga lulutu-on. ‘Dapat may bilin ni ang lulutu-on para mabaligya niya sa tindahan’, panaahumdom niya sa kaugalingon.

Gakabatyagan niya nga naga giho iya sako. Ang mga bata, amat-amat na nga ga bulugtaw, ka aga pa ni para dira. Halin sa banwa, ging pas-an niya ang prutas sang iya pinangabudlayan kag ging dala pakadto sa gamay niya nga kubo didto sa ka-umahan.

Indi amo ni ang pirme nga gakatabo. Sang una nga tyempo, indi niya kaya nga maka kuha sang madamo nga bata sa gamay lang mga mga inoras.

Ging dumdum niya nga sang una, ang mga maralagson nga kagulangan sa ila lugar, daw isa ka diyamante nga gina amagan ka mga negosyante.

Sang una, ga hulat lang na siya sang mga nag tinalang nga mga bata sa kagulangan kag iya sila kuhaon.

Ang mga ginikanan sang mga nagkala dula nga mga bata, halos aldaw-adlaw maka pamasyar sa iya kag pirme gapamangkot:

“Kita mo amon bata nga babaye?”, “Naka labay ni sila sa imo kubo?”, ” Pwede mo kami mabuligan pangita sa ila?”

Yuhom kaupod sang mga makapalati kag daw sa inosente nga mga tinaga pirme iya sabat. Indi man gid abi mag sulod sa paminsaron nimo nga ang isa ka mal-am, kag ugod-ugod nga lolo, makahimo malain nga butang parehos sang pag kuha sang mga gagmay nga mga bata. Daw ka kaladlawan na ya.

Ga arok-ok sang kakadlaw ang tigulang samtang papuli.

Kagamo sang kwarto sa sulod sang kubo. Ang lugar daw ging tugmawan sang pula nga dagta nga ga bukalwa sa palibot. May ara pa mga ginagmay nga butkon nga makit-an.

Ging butang sang tigulang nga lalaki sako kag nag gululuwa ang lawas sang mga bata. Iban sa ila ga giliho pa, pero kabalo man siya nga indi na sila makabugtaw gid.

Gingkuha na niya ang iya kutsilyo nga panglasā, kag ging handa ang kaugalingon para sa una nga pag ihaw. Ang bata nga baye, is Lualhati, ang pinaka lapit sa iya. Ging panumdom sang tigulang nga maayo ni nga klase ang iya dugo para himuon namit nga dinuguan.

Sang ging alsa sang tigulang ang dako nga kutsilyo, dira nag giho ang bata. Ging gamit niya ang tikod sang iya tiil para igu-on ang tiyan sang tigulang, natumba ang tigulang kag nakasyagit pa sang kasakit nga naaguman.

“Dalagan kamo tanan!”

Nag binangon dayon ang mga kabataan halin sa salog kag naka lab-ot sa pwertahan. Nalab-utan pa sang tigulang ang tiil sang isa ka bata nga lalaki, pero ging kagat sang bata ang iya kamot amo nga nakabuya siya.

Ging lantaw sang tigulang nga maka dalagan ang mga bata halin sa iya kubo. Wala na siya nagtilaw nga la-uton sila, kung maabtan man niya, ma law-ay kaledad sang karne nila. Tig-a na  ina kag ga bahul-bahol ang kusúg nila tungod sa dalagan.

Ging kuha niya ang bangkito kag nag pungko. Dapat na gid nga maghalong na siya sa dason.

Nagtulok siya sa mga madako ang matag.as nga mga establisyemento sang banwa halin sa iya bintana.

Damo pa man mga kabataan a, kinahanglan lang, mangin maagwantahon kag may laba nga pasensya.

Isa pa, amo naman ni ang pirme nga gina ubra niya halin pa sang una nga tyempo.

=——————————–=

English Version

He loved the holiday season, there were so many children, so naïve and trusting.

Take Jonah for example, his parents let him out of their sight for only a few minutes. He wandered off in the mall and happened upon a nice old man carrying a sack.

He asked, “Are you Santa Claus?” and the man replied “Of course I am! Would you like a present?”

Jonah immediately peered into the sack, such was the boy’s excitement in getting a new toy. He didn’t even feel the blow to the back of his head. Kids these days were so materialistic, it would be such a shame if someone took advantage of that.

Lualhati was a different story. She was the most well behaved girl any parent could ask for. She spent her days looking after her little siblings.

She was such a brave girl too, distracting the old man long enough for her little brother to run away. She was no match for him of course, and into the sack she went.

Then there was the girl, Flordeliza, such a snobby little brat. She wouldn’t talk to anyone unless she thought they could give her sweets.

The old man used that to lure her into a nice little alleyway. Before she could even think to scream she was in the sack, along with the other children.

Rizalino always had his head down. His parents believed in letting technology do the brunt of the work when it came to raising children.

He was so proud when he got his tablet, he would spend hours and hours watching his brightly colored cartoons or playing another mind numbing video game. It was as if that screen was his entire world.

He never realized that there were things happening beyond his screen, like a very old man and a sack creeping up behind him.

And finally came Amor, a very troubled child. She would wander around the city because she didn’t feel like listening to her parents getting into a shouting match for the hundredth time.

If she listened to them she might have heard them say ‘Never talk to strangers’, but children can be so stubborn. They always think they know everything. That is, until everything proves them wrong.

The old man checked his list and made sure he had enough for his special recipe, he needed to have some left over to sell to the market, ‘It’s the holidays’ he reminded himself. There would be other chances, he just had to wait.

He could feel the movement coming from the sack. The children were starting to wake up, it was much too soon for that. The old man took the fruits of his labor, far away from the city to his little kubo in the mountains.

It wasn’t always like this, of course. In the old days he would never be able to get this many children in such a short amount of time.

He thought back to when the concrete jungles were a glimmer of inspiration in the eyes of the tycoons, and a sea of green dominated the landscape.

In those times he would have to wait for the odd child to wander into the woods, never to be heard from again. Their parents would come by and ask all the questions a concerned parent needed to ask:

“Have you seen our little girl?” “Did they walk by your kubo?” “Will you help us look for them?”

He would smile and say a few remorseful words. No one would ever think that an old, venerable lolo could have anything to do with the disappearances of a few children. The very thought was laughable.

And he laughed all the way home.

The room inside the kubo was pure chaos. Scarlet stains and misplaced limbs were fighting a battle for supremacy.

The old man put the sack down and five small figures came tumbling out. There was some slight movement, but he knew they wouldn’t regain consciousness for a few more minutes.

He grabbed his lucky cleaver and readied himself for the first chop. The girl, Lualhati, was closest. The old man thought that her blood would make for good dinuguan.

As he raised his knife, she decided to strike. The heel of her foot hit the old man’s stomach, he collapsed to the ground, letting out a scream of pain.

“Everyone run!”

In that instant the four other children woke from their stupor and made for the door. The old man managed to grab the leg of one of the boys, but he bit his hand and the old man lost his grip.

The old man watched as the children fled his kubo. He didn’t bother chasing them, all that running would make their meat tough and stringy.

He pulled up a chair and sat down. He would have to be more careful next time.

The old man glanced outside his window and stared at the tall buildings in the distance.

There would always be more children, and he was nothing if not patient.

After all, he had been doing this for a very, very long time.

————————–————————–————————–—-

*The Hiligaynon language, also colloquially referred often by most of its speakers simply as Ilonggo, is an Austronesian regional language spoken in the Philippines by about 9.1 million people, mainly in Western Visayas and SOCCSKSARGEN, most of whom belong to the Visayan ethnic group, mainly the Hiligaynons. It is the second-most widely spoken language and a member of the so-named Visayan language family and is more distantly related to other Philippine languages.

Written by Karl Gaverza
Hiligaynon translation by Eloiza Gaduyon
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Eloiza Gaduyon

Inspired by the Tagalog Tigabulak legends

Tigabulak Illustration by Glendford Lumbao

Behance: https://www.behance.net/glendfordlumbao

The post Tigabulak – Hiligaynon Translation appeared first on Philippine Spirits.

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

FB: https://www.facebook.com/artsofperdiyo/

The post Mamam appeared first on Philippine Spirits.

“Okay let’s start over again.” Diosdado was getting impatient. They’d been working on this for four nights straight and they still didn’t have any solid answers.

“Calm down Dio,” said Angela. She was tired too and she wanted more than anything to solve this mystery, but attacking it head on would just cause more confusion. They needed to think outside the box.

“Ange, it’s been four days. I don’t want to go out and find another victim.” Diosdado’s eyes blazed with fiery conviction.

Angela saw that there was no use in dissuading her longtime partner and she sighed. “Alright, let’s go through everything one more time.”

“The victim was found strangled and her body left in the park at Quezon City Circle. Police arrived at the scene thirty minutes from when the body was first found. In those thirty minutes we managed to examine the body and found signs consistent with a paranormal attack. There were marks everywhere on the body as if she had been bound by rope and there was hair in her mouth as well as in her nose and ears. The victim looked emaciated as if she hadn’t eaten in days—“

“Consistent with their life force being sucked out of them,” Angela interrupted.

“Which leads us to believe it might be some sort of aswang that targeted the victim,” Diosdado continued. “The police took the body to the morgue right away so we couldn’t examine it further and now—“

“We’ve hit a wall,” Angela finished.

Diosdado slammed his fist against the wall. It happened so suddenly that Angela jumped out of her seat. She placed her hand on his shoulder and said, “Let’s run through the usual suspects alright? We might find something if we go through the list.”

“Alright, alright,” Diosdado said. Maybe there’s something there.

“What about a gabunan? Strangulation isn’t anything new to them and they aren’t affected by weakness during the day. They’re also very fast, no one in the park would have seen them do the deed.”

“It doesn’t fit. Gabunan are the oldest and strongest of aswang. They wouldn’t risk being seen in such a public place. And their hair is usually white. From what we saw the hair in the victim was jet black. They like to see their victims suffer. They’re known for making copies of their victim from banana trunks and making the copy arrive home until it dies which is a signal to kill the real victim.”

“Hmmm, good point. What about a katanod? They look like ordinary people. It would be easy for them to blend into the crowd after strangling the victim.”

“The victim wasn’t pregnant or at least not obviously so. Katanod usually follow their victims home to be around the fetus.”

“Scratch another one off the list. How about a mandarangkal?”
“The victim was female. Mandarangkal only seduce men. They’re also very particular about eating the flesh of their victims. Whatever happened to this one was something a lot more subtle.”

“A korokoto could sneak in and out of the park without being noticed if it turned into a cat.”

“They’re not usually seen this far north. And they cook their victims. If this was a korokoto then there wouldn’t be a victim for us to find.”

“The Alasip?”

“They eat the livers of their victims. There was no blood around the victim’s abdomen and no signs that her liver was taken.”

“Harimodon?”

“I think people would have noticed a giant wild boar in the park. There weren’t any injuries that were consistent with being attacked by a Harimodon.”

“Maybe it was a newly turned yanggaw?”

“Yanggaw that have been newly turned to aswang have a manic bloodlust. They crave human flesh. If it was one of those then we wouldn’t have seen her body intact.”

“Let’s look at it from the point of the life force being drained. What about an aswang na gala? The last time we were against one they fed off the life energy of those poor patients in that ICU.”

“It doesn’t seem like something an aswang na gala would do. They’re psychic vampires, yes, but their victims are usually stressed, sick or dying. All the ones I’ve encountered would shadow hospitals and pick their victims carefully so as to not arouse suspicion.”

“Well let’s put a pin in that first and get back to it later. What’s next? The bangkilan?”

“We’re not in Palawan so I don’t think that they’re what we’re looking for. Besides they usually play around with their victims, kissing them so that they become aswang as well. Whatever did this doesn’t have that kind of subtlety.”

“A hubot could have made a quick getaway.”

“Yes, they have those large wings, but none of the witnesses we interviewed said that they saw a giant bat anywhere near the body.”

“It could have been really fast.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think that’s it. What’s next?”

“The sinasa’ban. It’s a good candidate for aswang that absorbs life essence from humans.”

“Yes, but it does so carefully. They’re attracted by the phlegm and excrement of sick people. The victim was healthy by all appearances. It sucks the victim’s life out little by little, not all at once like what happened here.”

“Tigabulak?”

“The victim’s too old. Tigabulak only hunt children.”

“Wait I think I’ve got it. What about the kubot?”

Diosdado’s face lit up for the first time in four days.

“Yes, I see what you’re getting at. The kubot uses its long hair as tentacles and wraps it around the victim and in some cases the hair goes into other orifices in the body. The life force of the victim is drained through the hair and the aswang leaves behind the withered husk.”

Angela smiled. It took a while for them to get there but at least they had the first part of the puzzle figured out.

“What now,” Angela said, “We know what caused the attack, but how do we know where it’s going to strike next?”

“The kubot look like ordinary humans, only with long hair—“

“So do we ask every rocker with long hair to stop and hold calamansi?”

“No, but they are creatures of habit. I bet if we hang around the park it will strike again.”

“I think it’s a little too late for that.”

Angela pointed to the TV. There was a news report about another victim being found at the same park. The newscaster was warning people to go in groups and to be alert about their surroundings.

“Dammit!” Diosdado’s fist slammed the wall again. “We’re too late.”

“Not for whoever’s next.”

Angela picked up her wards and stingray tail. Diosdado followed suit and slung his bolo around his back.

Knowing full well that they might not survive the patrol, they stopped and looked each other in the eye. This life hadn’t been the easiest on either of them, but as long as they were together they would push though it and fight.

That’s what warriors do.

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Inspired by the different aswang legends

Kubot Illustration by Austin Salameda
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/austinsalameda

The post Kubot appeared first on Philippine Spirits.

He loved the holiday season, there were so many children, so naïve and trusting.

Take Jonah for example, his parents let him out of their sight for only a few minutes. He wandered off in the mall and happened upon a nice old man carrying a sack.

He asked, “Are you Santa Claus?” and the man replied “Of course I am! Would you like a present?”

Jonah immediately peered into the sack, such was the boy’s excitement in getting a new toy. He didn’t even feel the blow to the back of his head. Kids these days were so materialistic, it would be such a shame if someone took advantage of that.

Lualhati was a different story. She was the most well behaved girl any parent could ask for. She spent her days looking after her little siblings.

She was such a brave girl too, distracting the old man long enough for her little brother to run away. She was no match for him of course, and into the sack she went.

Then there was the girl, Flordeliza, such a snobby little brat. She wouldn’t talk to anyone unless she thought they could give her sweets.

The old man used that to lure her into a nice little alleyway. Before she could even think to scream she was in the sack, along with the other children.

Rizalino always had his head down. His parents believed in letting technology do the brunt of the work when it came to raising children.

He was so proud when he got his tablet, he would spend hours and hours watching his brightly colored cartoons or playing another mind numbing video game. It was as if that screen was his entire world.

He never realized that there were things happening beyond his screen, like a very old man and a sack creeping up behind him.

And finally came Amor, a very troubled child. She would wander around the city because she didn’t feel like listening to her parents getting into a shouting match for the hundredth time.

If she listened to them she might have heard them say ‘Never talk to strangers’, but children can be so stubborn. They always think they know everything. That is, until everything proves them wrong.

The old man checked his list and made sure he had enough for his special recipe, he needed to have some left over to sell to the market, ‘It’s the holidays’ he reminded himself. There would be other chances, he just had to wait.

He could feel the movement coming from the sack. The children were starting to wake up, it was much too soon for that. The old man took the fruits of his labor, far away from the city to his little kubo in the mountains.

It wasn’t always like this, of course. In the old days he would never be able to get this many children in such a short amount of time.

He thought back to when the concrete jungles were a glimmer of inspiration in the eyes of the tycoons, and a sea of green dominated the landscape.

In those times he would have to wait for the odd child to wander into the woods, never to be heard from again. Their parents would come by and ask all the questions a concerned parent needed to ask:

“Have you seen our little girl?” “Did they walk by your kubo?” “Will you help us look for them?”

He would smile and say a few remorseful words. No one would ever think that an old, venerable lolo could have anything to do with the disappearances of a few children. The very thought was laughable.

And he laughed all the way home.

The room inside the kubo was pure chaos. Scarlet stains and misplaced limbs were fighting a battle for supremacy.

The old man put the sack down and five small figures came tumbling out. There was some slight movement, but he knew they wouldn’t regain consciousness for a few more minutes.

He grabbed his lucky cleaver and readied himself for the first chop. The girl, Lualhati, was closest. The old man thought that her blood would make for good dinuguan.

As he raised his knife, she decided to strike. The heel of her foot hit the old man’s stomach, he collapsed to the ground, letting out a scream of pain.

“Everyone run!”

In that instant the four other children woke from their stupor and made for the door. The old man managed to grab the leg of one of the boys, but he bit his hand and the old man lost his grip.

The old man watched as the children fled his kubo. He didn’t bother chasing them, all that running would make their meat tough and stringy.

He pulled up a chair and sat down. He would have to be more careful next time.

The old man glanced outside his window and stared at the tall buildings in the distance.

There would always be more children, and he was nothing if not patient.

After all, he had been doing this for a very, very long time.

————————–————————–————————–—-

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Inspired by the Tagalog Tigabulak legends

Tigabulak Illustration by Glendford Lumbao

Behance: https://www.behance.net/glendfordlumbao

The post Tigabulak appeared first on Philippine Spirits.

Ek-Ek-Ek

The old woman hears the sound from her bedroom and her heart drops. “Please God not her.”, she whispers. She screams, and silently hopes that this can be enough to scare the creature away but she knows that her voice isn’t strong enough to reach her daughter’s bedroom.

Ek-Ek-EK

There’s not enough time to go to the kitchen to get a knife, it might be too late. She looks around her room and sees a pair of scissors. “Good enough.” she thinks. But there’s no time to think, not when this much is at stake. She runs out of her room with the scissors in her hand, praying that it may be enough.

Ek-EK-EK

She is close enough now. She screams again, louder than before, louder than anything she has ever screamed. It may be enough to wake up the others in the house, but she knows her daughter is alone in the room. She opens the door with the scissors in her hand.

EK-EK-EK

She stares down the beast. She sees its long, red tongue attached to her daughter’s womb and she remembers that dark stormy night when she first heard the sounds. When she lost her first baby. She vows that it will never hurt her family ever again.

EK-EK-EK

The old woman grasps the scissors in her hand and charges at her nightmare.

————————–————————–————————–—

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Story inspired by the Ekek legends

Ekek Illustration by Leandro Geniston from Aklat ng mga Anito
FB: That Guy With A Pen

Watercolor by Catherine Chiu
FB: Wildling Child
IG: https://www.instagram.com/wildlingchild/

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