He thought of the kind of person that would be out at 3AM on a Saturday night. Kids partying until the sunrise or office workers finished with the graveyard shift, those were the usual suspects. This passenger was wearing office wear so he assumed the latter.

Rolito opened the door for his latest passenger and waited until he got in. If he didn’t need the money to pay for his daughter’s new baby (Her husband was a good for nothing lout) he would have enjoyed his retirement.

The passenger’s voice was familiar, he had heard it a hundred times before from different people – broken hearts, failures, business deals gone bad – same old, same old.

The drunk grumbled, ”St. Michael’s church.”

At least this one had a destination. Rolito turned right and started going down the avenue.

His passenger was mumbling to himself, Rolito tried to ignore it but his car radio was broken so he had to sit through the soliloquy. He did notice that the drunk was counting his fingers.

1

I’m sorry mom and dad, I lost the scholarship on my own. I should have listened to you and not my friends.

2

I didn’t tell her I took the condom off. And there you were, still so beautiful. Carrying our child – our child.

3

You needed me and I wasn’t there – but she was. She was everything you were and everything I shouldn’t have wanted. Her lips were so soft. So soft.

4

My old friends found me and gave me a pill. I took it to show that I was a part of something, but they all left. They always left. Now I take from those that did nothing but give. And robbed the future of the only one who loved me unconditionally.

5

I had a second chance. Then a third. Then a fourth. I got a job that could sustain us but what did I do? I stole and cheated the one who would look over my indiscretions. He was such a kind man. But kindness never lasted with me.

6

It was dark. I swear to God it was dark. He was only a boy, not much older than our child. I could only drive away. I’m a coward.

7

My life was full of lies, I would do anything to get what I craved. Lie to my love, lie to my friends, lie to myself. Blasphemous things would escape my lips and I didn’t care.

8

You only tried to help me and I called you brother. But the gravity of my world collapsed over you. It was only one drink, but one was too much and never enough. I don’t even know where you are now, but I must live with the fact that I put you there.

9

And in the end, I committed the most terrible sin of all. Taking what only God could take. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.

The whispers continued going from 1 to 9, over and over again. At a certain point the man was shouting. Rolito looked behind him to calm the man down.

And he saw a skeleton in a tattered suit.

He remembered now where he heard the passenger’s voice. He remembered the last time he saw his grandchild’s father, it was the same coat, same tie.

They had reached their destination but the only remnant that Rolito even had a passenger were some tattered rags in the taxi’s back seat.

=——————————-=

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Based on the Siyam-Siyam myth from Iloilo

Illustration by Leandro Geniston

From @Thatguywithapen

I first saw the creature

In its natural home

I wanted to feature

Its character in my tome

It was giant, more than I expected

And it earned its name

It was shabby, almost neglected

But I was only thinking of fame

‘The one who likes to chew’

Was what its name meant

I took 5 steps forward and I knew

I almost fainted from the scent

It was in a sad and pitiable state

Wounds oozing with blood

It was hunted along with its mate,

Fur caked with random mud

It was too late for the other

No creature deserved to die alone

I felt like I was its mother

Then I silently took out my phone

I sent out a message

To all that would read

And told of the foliage

And the land that would bleed

My call was to protect

The last of untouched green

And my voice would inflect

The misery I had seen

Timu-timu was a beast

That much was true

It would even feast

On passersby coming through

But no creature deserved

Such an ignoble end

Justice needed to be served

And it was my duty to defend

So here I stand

Behind my screen

Pen in hand

To advocate for the unseen

For the Timu-timu

And the beasts of the land

With the Timu-timu

I shall walk hand in hand

=————————————————–=

Inspired by the Timu-timu legends from Iloilo

Timu-timu Illustration by Leandro Geniston

FB: That Guy With A Pen

I woke up again, my screams reverberate through the halls.

Sister Ella was the first to come to me, that poor woman has been with me through all my terrors.

I can’t let them know where I came from.

She takes out a rosary and we begin to pray, and in that moment, calm washes through me like a gentle wave.

I can’t thank them enough for taking me in. Not many would trust a stranger that washed up on their shores, but to the sisters it didn’t matter.

I was a soul that needed saving.

The next day was like any other, I would help do chores around the convent, do my daily meditation and try to adjust to my new life.

Reading scripture was my favorite part, even before stepping foot in the convent books were my escape. They were the only things that mattered to me in the end.

The sisters told me I would find solace in prayer. They didn’t see what I saw, how human failings would drown out even the best of people.

I shake my head and try to forget the past.

This is my life now.

Or so I thought.

There were times when we would read and discuss scripture and philosophy together. That day we discussed the seven sins. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking at the mere thought of them.

Sister Adeline saw my discomfort and called for a break. She sat next to me and asked me if I was alright.

The warm heat from my tears was all the answer she needed.

She and I excused ourselves and went to a quieter place.

She asked me if I had considered confession, that maybe that catharsis would make me feel better.

I calmly shook my head and told her she wouldn’t understand. Not with what I had been through.

She nodded her head and smiled. She wouldn’t presume to know that, but she asked me to put my feelings into words. I agreed.

It was the wind.

We were ignorant.

We didn’t listen.

Until the blackness rolled through the land.

Until…..

I paused for a moment to let my tears out.

In the silence, sister asked me, what did I mean by “we”?

I stood up and left. Stupid. I almost told her about where I came from.

In the weeks that followed the night terrors subsided, I could get through some days without screaming at all.

The days spent in the convent were some of the best of my life.

But I know it wouldn’t last.

The dreams were there even without the terrors.

To go back to the island of my birth, and make amends.

Were the dreams my penance?
I needed to go back to my old home.

I gathered what meager belongings I had and left a note with only one word.

Polobulac

I took a boat and saw for myself what happened to the island of flowers.

7 black rocks stood testament to a fallen people.

As I go closer, I can hear their mixed murmurs.

Torment. Devouring.

Warning. Condemnation.

Desire. Avoidance.

Death.

I stepped on what remained of the island, the last daughter of ash and sin.

The memories came back, harsh and jagged.

The seven voices.

The seven pillars of flame.

The day the sun was hidden behind a curtain of blackness.

The tempest.

I fall on my knees and let myself be consumed by the remnants of their power.

No matter where I was, they would find me.

But now it would be on my own terms.

Thank you, sisters.

I shall now find my rest.

=———————————————————————=

Story inspired by:

THE FALL OF POLOBULAC. http://www.sacred-texts.com/asia/pfs/pfs13.htm

*This is a tale from Panay. It probably originated with the Spanish fathers, who wished to impress the doctrine of the Seven Deadly Sins on the natives. The islands are just off Iloilo.

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverz

The Seven Sins Illustration by Abe Joncel Guevarra
FB: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100008285862780

IG: @abe.art.ph

*Note this story is in Tagalog

Isang araw may matandang mag-asawa na nahihirapan magkaroon ng anak. Nagdarasal sila tuwing gabi hanggang sa maipanganak ang kanilang anak na babae. Natuwa ang nanay nito at sinabi na may galak, “Wala ng mas gaganda sa aking anak. Kailanman hindi maihahambing sa kaniya ang pinakamagandang tomawo!”

Dinala ng hangin ang kaniyang mga sinabi, dumaan ito sa madilim na kagubatan at sa kaulapan hanggang sa umabot ito sa pandinig ng mga tomawo na naninirahan sa balon na may kalapitan lang sa bahay ng mag-asawa.

Hindi man lang nila naisip ang maaaring mangyari dahil sa sinabi nila tungkol sa mga espirito. Kaya ngayon, napagkasunduan ng mga tomawo na kunin ang pinakamamahal nilang anak bilang kabayaran sa kanilang kasalanan.

Ang mga tomawo ay walang kamatayan. Nasubaybayan nila ang paglaki ng maliit na bata at gayon din ang taglay nitong ganda. Kahit ang mga taong naninirahan sa kalayuan ay kilala ang isang babaeng kamahal-mahal.

Mas lalong naiingit ang mga tomawo dahil sa mga kinakanta ng mga ibon sa paligid:

“Siya ay isang bukang-liwayway. Kung sino man ang mahaplusan ng kaniyang liwanag ay pagpapalain magpakailanman.”

“Masusulyapan mo sa kaniyang mga mata ang walang hanggan. Walang makakatiis sa kaniyang titig.”

“Hindi masasalamin ng tubig ang taglay niyang kagandahan.”

Mas lalong sumiklab ang galit ng mga tomawo sa huling linyang iyon, dahil para sa kanila banal ang tubig at isang kabastusan ang pagpapahayag ng ganoong bagay.

Kaya pagsapit ng ikalabinlimang kaarawan nito, nagsimula nang kumilos ang mga espirito.

Nang gabing iyon, tulog na ang mag-asawa, at ang anak nila ay nasa labas natutuwa sa kinalabasan ng kaniyang kaarawan. Nakatanggap siya ng maraming regalo mula sa kaniyang mga manliligaw, kumikinang mga alahas at ginto. Pakiramdam niya na sumasang-ayon sa gusto niya ang lahat.

Ang pagmumuni-muni ay naudlot ng isang magandang tunog na papalapit sa kaniya. Hindi niya matiis na huwag itong pansinin at naglakad siya para hanapin ito.

Nag-uusap ang mga tomawo sa balon.

“Kailangan natin siyang lunurin, at pagkatapos ipapadala natin ang kaniyang bangkay sa mga magulang niya. Tingnan nila kung gaano kaganda ang kanilang ‘prinsesa’.”

“Hindi! Kailangan natin silang parusahan ng matagal at mabagal. Sa loob ng labinlimang taon tinitiis natin ang pang-aasar nila na kumupas na ang ating kagandahan. Gusto kong maramdaman niya ang ating pagdurusa.”

Nag-aaway ang mga tomawo at nagkukutyaan sa isa’t isa, pero hindi pa sila nagkakasundo sa kung ano ang gagawin nila.

Hanggang sa may isang boses na nangibabaw.

“Aking mga kapatid na tomawo, hindi sasapat ang pagpapahirap sa nararamdaman nating galit. Naniniwala ang mga tao na wala ng mas gaganda sa kanilang anak. Kailangan nating patunayan na nagkakamali sila.

“Ano ang gusto mong gawin natin?”

“Makikita mo.”

Nakatayo ang babae sa tabi ng balon. Alam niya kung ano ang ginagawa ng kaniyang katawan, pero hindi niya ito maigalaw.

Lumabas ang isang magandang babae sa bibig ng balon. Alam ng batang babae na may kakaiba sa nakikita niya katulad ng mga kuwento sa kaniya ng kaniyang lolo.

“Nakikiusap ako, pakawalan mo na ako.” nagmamakaawa ang batang babae.

“Nakagawa ng malaking kasalanan ang mga magulang mo sa mga tomawo.”

“Ano ang ibig mong sabihin? Wala kaming ginawang masama sa inyo.”

“Hindi ba totoo na sinabi ng mga tao na ikaw ang pinakamaganda sa lupaing ito. Kung saan natatalo mo pa ang tomawo sa kagandahan?”

“Oo pero biro lang iyon, labis-labis lang sila magsalita.”

“Sa tingin ko hindi. At kasama ka na rin doon.”

“Wala akong sinasabing kahit ano!”

“Talaga? Ano yung nangyari pagkatapos ng iyong kaarawan?”

“Walang nangyari!”

“Ano yung sinabi mo pagkatapos mong matanggap ang iyong mga regalo?”

“Wala! Nagbibiro lang ako!”

“Ano. Ang. Sinabi. Mo.”

Dumadaloy ang luha ng batang babae sa kaniyang mga pisngi.

“Sinabi ko na ako lang ang mahalaga. Na wala ng ibang nilalang, tao, espirito, o diyos ang makakaabot sa taglay kong kagandahan.”

“Isa kang kabastusan sa harapan ng mga espirito. Wala ng mas tatapat sa ganda na taglay namin. Isa kang tao lamang at kailanman hindi ka magiging kapantay namin.”

Napatahimik siya. Nararamdaman niya na humihina na ang kapangyarihan nila sa kaniya, pero sa halip na tumakbo hinarap niya ang espirito.

“Hindi mo alam kung ano tinutukoy mo! Bobo ka! Hindi mo ba alam kung gaano ako kaganda o wala kang mata! Kahit ano puwede mong gawin sa akin, pero lagi mong tatandaan, na ang taong ito ay mas maganda sa kahit sino sa inyo!

“Nambabastos ka talaga?!”

“Hindi, sinasabi ko lang ang totoo. Makikilala ako bilang pinakamagandang tao sa lupaing ito, habang ang iyong walang kuwentang mukha kailanman ay walang magkakagusto!”

“Pasaway kang bata ka. Pero baka tama ka nga. Paulit-ulit mong sinasabi na maganda ka kahit na wala na akong pakialam. Ang alam ko lang magkakasundo ang mga tao at mga espirito na ang tomawo ang mas maganda kaysa sa kahit anong bagay sa lupaing ito.”

“Ano yung gagawin mo sa akin?”

“Makikita mo….Kapatid.”

Ilang taong hinahanap ng mag-asawa ang kanilang anak hanggang sa namatay sila dulot ng kalungkutan. Hindi nasagot ang kanilang dalangin at nagdurusa sila hanggang sa kamatayan. Inilibing sila ng walang puntod malapit sa kanilang bahay.

May sabi-sabi na nalunod ang batang babae sa kalapit na ilog at makikita pa rin ang kaniyang kaluluwa na naglilibot mag-isa.

Ang sabi naman ng iba na sumama siya sa isa niyang manliligaw at isa na siyang reyna sa malayong kaharian. Kung saan doon ay payapa ang kaniyang buhay at patuloy na pinapalaganap ang kaniyang kagandahan.

Pero mayroon namang mga taong nagpapakalat ng babala sa balon malapit sa kagubatan. Ang sabi nila may mga magagandang espiritong nakatira doon. May mga taong hindi pinapansin ang mga babala dahil may mga kuwento na mayroong isang magandang espirito na nangingibabaw sa lahat. Ang mga taong may isip ay hindi susuway sa mga babala, pero mayroong mga tao hindi magpapatigil para lamang masilayan ang kaniyang kagandahan.

=———————————————–=

English Version

Once there was an old couple who had a difficult time conceiving. Every night they lifted their prayers to heaven until one day the woman found herself pregnant. When their child was born, she was of such profound beauty that her parents exclaimed, “There are none more beautiful than our daughter. Even the fairest tomawo could not compare to her!”

The wind carried their words through the somber forests and lofty clouds until they settled on the ears of those that tamawo that dwelt in a shallow well a fair distance from the couple’s house.

It never crossed the couple’s mind that an exclamation such as that could inflame the envy of those spirits. The spirits agreed that the child would pay for her parent’s words.

These tomawo were as patient as they were eternal. They watched as the child matured, growing even more beautiful. Even those from far-off lands knew of the girl and her unsurpassed loveliness.

The spirits grew even more embittered. They could hear the signs carried in the melodies of the songbirds:

“She is the sun ascending from the horizon. Those who are touched by her light are blessed forever.”

“All the flowers in the world cannot match her radiance.”

“In her eyes are the flickers of the infinite. No one can resist her gaze.”

“Mere water cannot reflect her true elegance.”

Now those last words cut a deep wound in the spirits’ pride for they dwelt in a shallow well. To them, water was so sacred that to even utter that statement would invoke their wrath.

On the girl’s fifteenth birthday the spirits began their plot.

That night, after her family had gone to sleep, the girl sat outside and reflected on how amazing the day was. She had received gifts from many suitors, dazzling jewels and breathtaking gold. She felt that the sun and moon were mere dots that served to light her figure.

Her rumination was interrupted by a sweet harmony, beckoning her near. She could not resist the sound’s charm and started walking to its source.

In the well the spirits bickered.
“We should drown that irritating upstart. A few minutes and it will all be over, then we can send her bloated corpse to the other humans to show just how pretty this ‘princess’ actually is.”

“No! We should make her punishment long and slow. For fifteen years we had to endure those insults that were thrown at our own beauty. I want to her to suffer as we have.”

The spirits fought and threw taunts at each other, but they were still no closer to an agreement.

Until one voice reverberated through the well.
“My tamawo sisters, all this talk of pain and suffering will not sate our resentment. The humans agreed that there was no spirit that could ever be as beautiful as this girl. We must prove them wrong.”

“What would you have us do then?”

“You shall see.”

The girl stood beside the well. She was fully aware of what her body was doing, but she could not control it.

From the well rose a beautiful woman. In her heart the girl new that the woman was a supernatural like her grandfather would tell of in his stories.

“Please let me go,” the girl begged.
“Your family has committed a grave sin against the spirits.”

“What do you mean? We’ve done nothing to harm you.”

“Is it not true that the humans across this land and others have proclaimed you as more beautiful than the spirits?”
“Yes but that was just a joke, they were exaggerating.”

“I don’t think they were. Or you were, for that matter.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Oh really? Then what happened at your party?”

“Nothing happened!”

“What did you say after you received your gifts?”
“Nothing! It was just a joke!”

“What. Did. You. Say.”

Tears welled out down the girl’s cheeks.

“I said that I was the only thing that mattered. That no being, not a person, not a spirit, not even a god could ever reach the beauty I have.”

“You spit in the face of the spirits. There are none that hold beauty such as we do. You are nothing but a human and you will never equal us.”

The girl grew silent. She could feel the spell that kept her still fade away, but instead of running she faced the spirit.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about! You stupid cow! Do you know how gorgeous I am or do you not have eyes! You can do what you want with me, but you will always, ALWAYS, know that this human is more beautiful than any tomawo will ever be!”

“You dare throw disrespect?!”

“No, I am just telling the truth. I will be remembered as the greatest beauty in this land and others, while your stupid face can’t even interest a normal person!”

“Foolish girl. But you may be right. You are beautiful, more than I care to admit. I do know one way to have humans and spirits alike say that the tamawo are more beautiful than anything  in this realm and others.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“You shall see…. Sister.”

The couple spent years trying to find their daughter until their heartbreak took a toll on their frail bodies. Their prayers were unanswered and they were tormented with the pain of loss until the end. They were buried near their home, in unmarked graves.

Some say the girl drowned in a river not too far away and her ghost could be seen roaming lonely paths.

Others say that one of her suitors carried her to a far-off land where she is now queen, content to spend her days sharing her beauty with her subjects.

But there are those that warn against going to an isolated well near the forest. They say that beautiful spirits make it their home. There are those that ignore those warnings for it is also said that one of those spirits is the most beautiful being in all the realms. Those with common sense would heed these warnings but for those without logic, nothing will stop them from seeing a glimpse of her beauty.

=—————————————————————————————-=

*Tomawo are beautiful spirits like the engkanto.

*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 Emman Bernardino
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Emman Bernardino

Inspired by the Manbukay description in The Remnants of the Great Ilonggo Nation. Sebastian Sta. Cruz Serag. 1997.

Manbukay illustration by Gabrielle Solera

IG: @gbsolera

Once there was an old couple who had a difficult time conceiving. Every night they lifted their prayers to heaven until one day the woman found herself pregnant. When their child was born, she was of such profound beauty that her parents exclaimed, “There are none more beautiful than our daughter. Even the fairest tomawo could not compare to her!”

The wind carried their words through the somber forests and lofty clouds until they settled on the ears of those that tamawo that dwelt in a shallow well a fair distance from the couple’s house.

It never crossed the couple’s mind that an exclamation such as that could inflame the envy of those spirits. The spirits agreed that the child would pay for her parent’s words.

These tomawo were as patient as they were eternal. They watched as the child matured, growing even more beautiful. Even those from far-off lands knew of the girl and her unsurpassed loveliness.

The spirits grew even more embittered. They could hear the signs carried in the melodies of the songbirds:

“She is the sun ascending from the horizon. Those who are touched by her light are blessed forever.”

“All the flowers in the world cannot match her radiance.”

“In her eyes are the flickers of the infinite. No one can resist her gaze.”

“Mere water cannot reflect her true elegance.”

Now those last words cut a deep wound in the spirits’ pride for they dwelt in a shallow well. To them, water was so sacred that to even utter that statement would invoke their wrath.

On the girl’s fifteenth birthday the spirits began their plot.

That night, after her family had gone to sleep, the girl sat outside and reflected on how amazing the day was. She had received gifts from many suitors, dazzling jewels and breathtaking gold. She felt that the sun and moon were mere dots that served to light her figure.

Her rumination was interrupted by a sweet harmony, beckoning her near. She could not resist the sound’s charm and started walking to its source.

In the well the spirits bickered.
“We should drown that irritating upstart. A few minutes and it will all be over, then we can send her bloated corpse to the other humans to show just how pretty this ‘princess’ actually is.”

“No! We should make her punishment long and slow. For fifteen years we had to endure those insults that were thrown at our own beauty. I want to her to suffer as we have.”

The spirits fought and threw taunts at each other, but they were still no closer to an agreement.

Until one voice reverberated through the well.
“My tamawo sisters, all this talk of pain and suffering will not sate our resentment. The humans agreed that there was no spirit that could ever be as beautiful as this girl. We must prove them wrong.”

“What would you have us do then?”

“You shall see.”

The girl stood beside the well. She was fully aware of what her body was doing, but she could not control it.

From the well rose a beautiful woman. In her heart the girl new that the woman was a supernatural like her grandfather would tell of in his stories.

“Please let me go,” the girl begged.
“Your family has committed a grave sin against the spirits.”

“What do you mean? We’ve done nothing to harm you.”

“Is it not true that the humans across this land and others have proclaimed you as more beautiful than the spirits?”
“Yes but that was just a joke, they were exaggerating.”

“I don’t think they were. Or you were, for that matter.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Oh really? Then what happened at your party?”

“Nothing happened!”

“What did you say after you received your gifts?”
“Nothing! It was just a joke!”

“What. Did. You. Say.”

Tears welled out down the girl’s cheeks.

“I said that I was the only thing that mattered. That no being, not a person, not a spirit, not even a god could ever reach the beauty I have.”

“You spit in the face of the spirits. There are none that hold beauty such as we do. You are nothing but a human and you will never equal us.”

The girl grew silent. She could feel the spell that kept her still fade away, but instead of running she faced the spirit.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about! You stupid cow! Do you know how gorgeous I am or do you not have eyes! You can do what you want with me, but you will always, ALWAYS, know that this human is more beautiful than any tomawo will ever be!”

“You dare throw disrespect?!”

“No, I am just telling the truth. I will be remembered as the greatest beauty in this land and others, while your stupid face can’t even interest a normal person!”

“Foolish girl. But you may be right. You are beautiful, more than I care to admit. I do know one way to have humans and spirits alike say that the tamawo are more beautiful than anything  in this realm and others.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“You shall see…. Sister.”

The couple spent years trying to find their daughter until their heartbreak took a toll on their frail bodies. Their prayers were unanswered and they were tormented with the pain of loss until the end. They were buried near their home, in unmarked graves.

Some say the girl drowned in a river not too far away and her ghost could be seen roaming lonely paths.

Others say that one of her suitors carried her to a far-off land where she is now queen, content to spend her days sharing her beauty with her subjects.

But there are those that warn against going to an isolated well near the forest. They say that beautiful spirits make it their home. There are those that ignore those warnings for it is also said that one of those spirits is the most beautiful being in all the realms. Those with common sense would heed these warnings but for those without logic, nothing will stop them from seeing a glimpse of her beauty.

*Tomawo are beautiful spirits like the engkanto.

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Inspired by the Manbukay description in The Remnants of the Great Ilonggo Nation. Sebastian Sta. Cruz Serag. 1997.

Manbukay illustration by Gabrielle Solera

IG: @gbsolera

Leoncio sighed deep. It was the era of stone churches and horse drawn carriages, but it seemed that with all those modern marvels time was still running out. He glanced once more at the cobblestone street and prayed that his carriage would arrive soon.

Tigidig – Tigidig – Tigidig – Tigidig

God must have finally heard him and the telltale sound of his carriage greeted his ears with fervent anticipation. Maybe this time he would make it in time to join his family for dinner.
The pale moon hung high in the sky as Leoncio boarded the carriage. He greeted his driver and told him that he was headed home. It was his daily routine and things seemed to be going normally until a stranger waved his arms and asked to speak with the owner of the carriage.

The stranger begged Leoncio for a lift, it was dark and he was afraid of the treacherous road. Leoncio rubbed his temples and remembered a verse that his grandmother would repeat “God is not unjust; he will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them.”

He didn’t want to be late to have supper with his family, but he couldn’t leave a person in need. He was a God-fearing man and knew that there was someone up there, watching.
With a hint of reluctance Leoncio moved and offered the man a seat in his carriage.

It was going to be a long night.

“I see you’re a religious man,” the stranger said, breaking the silence.

“I guess I am,” Leoncio clutched the cross around his neck. “A force of habit I guess,” he replied.

“I was a religious man too.”

“Was?”

Leoncio felt unprepared for this conversation. He was tired from the day’s work and would rather not have to engage in petty small talk with a stranger he had just met ten minutes ago.

“It was a long time ago, you probably don’t want to hear about it.”

But curiosity is a strong force.

“Why don’t you tell me about it?”

It was a night much light this. The sun had faded and the stars began to play their games. I was a lowly farmer, headed home after a hard day’s work in the market.

I was a prayerful man, always believing the Lord had a plan for me.

As I reached my house I knew something was amiss. The door was hanging open and my wife did not greet me. I feared the worst.

I was greeted by the bodies of my family sprawled across the living room. It seemed that robbers had broken in and put them to the knife.

Tears of sadness and rage filled me and it was then that I cursed the name of the Lord, most high. I would not be part of any plan that sought to do my family harm.

And that day I left my farmhouse in a blaze of anger.

He was no longer my God and I turned to others to help me avenge my family.

Leoncio didn’t know what to say. He stared, mouth agape, at the stranger beside him.

“That was the first of my many misdeeds, but it wouldn’t be the last.”

Something was bubbling inside Leoncio, he wanted to tell the driver to stop, to throw the stranger out of the carriage, but it seemed that he too was in a trance.

And thus did the stranger continued on with his tale.

I went to the places touched by the dark, to those forgotten by the men in robes. I would have done anything to find those that killed my family, I would have paid any price.

They demanded things I dare not speak aloud, for the memory still makes me weep bitter tears. But endured them, I did.

I needed no one. Sometimes in the night I would remember my parents and wonder what they would have thought of my actions, but I spat at their memory. This was the only way to make them pay for what they had done.

And when all was said and done, I had new gods who gave me the zeal to take my revenge.

I carved idols in their image to better gain their power and kept them close to me. Their whispers carried me off to blessed sleep every night.

I ignored the Sabbath day, for what use was it to me then? No more hearing the hypocritical friars and their words of venom, no more sitting at the pews praying for things that would not come.

I was whole in their presence. In my baptism of blood, I knew where I should go.

Their whispers lead me to a cave hidden deep within the forest. It was there I heard laughter and music on the lips of the men that took my family from me.

It was over in a heartbeat.

I left one of them alive with a knife in his hand and told the guardia civil that I had heard a commotion from the cave. It was all too easy to blame the man for the deaths of his compatriots. Who would believe a thief?

Though who am I to judge? I took something from them to remind myself of the cruelty of man, a single coin that they had no doubt stolen from another poor soul.

It would not bring my family back, that much I knew. But the glint of silver blinds even the most righteous men. I took it and fled to the forest.

I had forgotten that everything came at a price, and those that I believed had helped me were ready to collect.

I tried to run, believe me I wanted nothing more than to be back in my house, surrounded by my family. I ran to a neighbor’s house and asked for help, but I knew he could give me none.

My last thoughts before they ripped the skin from my flesh was how I wanted my neighbor’s house. To be safe and warm in the embrace of the family inside.

And I relived those events nine times. The knife, the craven images, breaking the covenants set by your god.

Leoncio struggled to find words. The stranger had suddenly turned from a man into a skeletal being, its clothes in tatters.

“By the way, my good man. Where is the nearest church?”
Leoncio pointed to the south, in the direction of Molo church. He blinked and the stranger was gone, an empty seat was all that remained.

That night Leoncio’s screams could be heard for miles around as the legend of Siyam-Siyam was spread throughout Iloilo.

*In mid to late 19th century Iloilo, travelers on horseback or carriage told of encountering a restless spirit at night. The spirit at first appeared as a normal human and asked to hitch a ride. On the way it would talk casually and confess of its nine sins that it committed nine times. Then the hitchhiker will turn into a skeleton in tatters and ask for the nearest church and disappear while the travelers screamed their heads off. In one story, Siyam-Siyam finally found peace when he encountered a friar.

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Based on the Siyam-Siyam myth from Iloilo

Siyam-siyam Illustration by Justine André Villapa
Instagram: @art.justineandrev

A Failed Expedition Part 3

I’m getting tired of running, but it’s either that or ending up like Manuel or even worse, Johann. I can still hear Johann’s screams as that thing tore him apart, but he wouldn’t want me to give up. Not after everything that’s happened.

I ran out of the cave as fast as I could, I don’t know what got Manuel, but I didn’t want to stay and find out. I feel so stupid that I left the shotgun back in the cave, though it might have just weighed me down. I managed to cover more ground without it, so there’s still a silver lining in all this.

I just need to get through this. “Suffer today and live better tomorrow,” that’s what my dad would always say when things got hard. I happen upon a bamboo forest and it looks like there’s a river beside it. I can get some rest and fresh water here, both things that I haven’t had in hours.

My rest doesn’t last long. Thankfully I can hear whatever it is coming towards me. The sound of breaking bamboo and the rustling leaves gives me ample time to prepare a weapon. I grab a piece of bamboo and break it apart to make a makeshift spear, right now all I’m thinking is how I wish I’d brought the shotgun with me.

“Johann?!” I stare at what used to be my friend. He looks exactly like the last time I saw him, blood everywhere from where the thing snapped him in half. “Hi Kevin, I’ve been dying to see you again.” The blood was gurgling out of Johann’s mouth as he tried to speak.

“What happened to you?! This can’t be real!” I shout. This has to be a dream, first I’m being hunted by an unknown animal , then I hear a woman’s voice in my head and now someone who’s supposed to be dead is right in front of me. “Don’t be scared, Kevin, this just takes a lot of DEAD-ication.” Johann laughs through one of his puns. Whatever happened to him hasn’t dulled his sense of humor.

I manage to impale Johann with my spear, which gives me just enough time to run. I don’t know how long the bamboo will hold him, but I have to try. The only thing I can do is run.

BAM

Something heavy strikes my right shoulder. I feel the damp blood seeping its way through my jacket. There’s only enough time for me to turn around to see what hit me.

“I told you we should have never come here.” Manuel has his shotgun pointed directly at my face.

“The forest doesn’t like visitors.”

BAM

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Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Continued from the Bulalacao’s Tale

Story inspired by the Marukpuk legends from Iloilo.

Marukpuk Illustration and Watercolor by Yanna Gemora
FB: Yannami