Can’t get enough of vampires and zombies (Updated with your entries)
The publishing industry is convinced that its salvation lies in the undead.
Among the most-touted books of the season are The Fall, the sequel to The Strain by Guillermo Del Toro and Chuck Hogan, out in the fall (where there is fall); and The Passage by Justin Cronin.
The success of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies has spawned a host of literary/historical mash-ups, including Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter and Queen Victoria: Demon Hunter.
Vampires, demons, and zombies are all very interesting, of course, but for true weirdness I prefer manananggal, tiyanak, and other creatures of the Filipino darkness.
Let’s make some mash-ups!
The rules:
1. The protagonist has to be a Philippine historical figure.
2. The monster has to be a creature out of Philippine mythology: manananggal, aswang, tikbalang, kapre, tiktik, tiyanak, mambabarang, etc. Yes, it’s tempting to cast a politician; no, we want a more attractive monster.
3. The setting has to be somewhere in the Philippines.
4. The tale has to be told in less than 1,000 words. It doesn’t have to be a short story, it can be a concept paper, movie treatment, or synopsis for a novel.
5. The entry has to be posted in Comments by noon of Thursday, 15 July 2010.
6. The prize: Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter and Queen Victoria: Demon Hunter.
Thanks to our friends at National Bookstore for the freebies!
* * * * *
ATTENTION: WINNERS
enajie, swanoepel, overnitesensation, gilbertjohngarcia, irvin mclovin: Upon swanoepel’s suggestion I’ve asked Budjette Tan to sign your copies of Alexandra Trese. You can pick them up starting Monday, 12 July 2010 at National Bookstore in Power Plant Mall, Rockwell, Makati.
epaloids: You said July, right? You can claim your copy of PostSecret at National Bookstore in Rockwell any day starting Saturday, 10 July 2010.
Alrey and Richelle: When are you going to pick up your watches from the Prince of Persia contest?
* * * * *
Entries received so far:
Apolinario Mabini: Manananggal Killer by rinabanana
Lapu-Lapu: Vampire Hunter by e@rl_hickey
Jose Rizal: the man, the legend, the aswang by hypnerotomato
Tandang Sora: Palabang Lola ni johnbristol6
Revisionist History—Now na! (or, OMG, ang anak ni K!) by stellalehua
Francisco Dagohoy, Imortal ni jeffwar314
Jose Rizal, Doppelganger Slayer by wickedmouth
Love and Diversity by kindler
Agaw-Dilim, Agaw-Liwanag: Mga Itinagong Kwento ng Rebolusyon by Grafton Uranus
Tooth and Nail: The Declaration of War and Martial Law by banzai cat
The Real Treaty of Paris by virgoan
Apolinario Mabini: Child of Prophecy, The Last Bruha Slayer by blahblah
The Aswang Trilogy by flipflopstore
Click on Comments to read the contestants.
Answers to questions you might be asking, unless you wandered onto this site purely by accident >>>
July 8th, 2010 at 07:20
Yehey!!! makukuha ko na ang Alexandra Trese ko at may autograph pa ni B.T. collectors item ito.
punta na ko 9.59 AM pa lang Monday, 12 July 2010 at National Bookstore in Power Plant Mall, Rockwell, Makati
July 9th, 2010 at 11:18
YES!!! This is it! Hindi ako familiar sa place pero bahala na! I’ll ask my officemates to accompany me on Monday!
Salamat sa idea mo, swanoepel!!!
July 9th, 2010 at 13:04
The Other Half
Los Baños, Laguna 1898. Apolinario Mabini receives a letter from Emilio Aguinaldo asking him to come to Cavite at the soonest possible time. There is no further explanation written, but Mabini senses urgency and sets off.
Upon his arrival, the General greets him and informs him of the current situation concerning their ongoing plight in bringing the country’s freedom. Then, Mabini is also informed of the sudden mysterious disappearances and deaths that have been plaguing the dusks of Kawit. Aguinaldo shows him of documented reports of the missing persons and the condition of the dead bodies that were recovered. The victims were pregnant women. The corpses were found in the forests of Kawit’s neighboring towns and all had ravaged wombs.
Hysteria has overcome the place, as nobody can credit this inhumane act. Aguinaldo tasks Mabini to resolve this unusual phenomenon as well.
Mabini, despite knowing the dangers that pose at night and toward his physical condition, forms a team of young men to be able to crack down the mysterious deaths in Kawit. They disembark by sunset, bringing with them torches to provide light and bolos for protection. Mabini and his team of young Katipuneros settled in one of Kawit’s deep forests, hoping to catch the grim menace.
At midnight, they were awakened to a loud whacking sound. Each of the men grabbed on to their bolos and peeled their eyes amidst the darkness that enveloped them. The whacking sound grew louder and moved closer, thus Mabini orders for the men to put off the torches. The full moon glowed above, showering light into the stillness of the night.
Suddenly, a shadow of a large bat hovered over the trees, dimming the moon’s radiance for an instant. Mabini and his men stood motionless, stunned by the apparition that went above them. The creature let out an eerie shriek that brought shivers to the whole battalion.
As the sun’s rays peaked early on, Mabini and his sleepless men departed for home. As they were traversing nature’s trail, they passed a beautiful woman making her way into the forest. Having failed to notice their presence, Mabini commands his men to halt and called the woman. The lady, realizing that she was being called, turned her attention to the group of men.
Mabini’s upper body froze upon seeing the face of the young lady. It couldn’t be. It was impossible.
The woman stood before the gentleman’s hammock. Her lips were in motion, but Mabini couldn’t quite make the words that were coming out of her mouth. He was overwhelmed.
He remembered. Scouring through the shelves of his memories, he finally connected the face to a name that was engraved on the annals of his childhood past. Salvacion. He remembered her laughter, their long talks, and their dreams of being together—until that fateful day happened which brought a part of Mabini’s life to crumble. She disappeared for no reason at all. Her family opted to brush off the painful experience and left town the three days after Salvacion was last seen going into the forest of Batangas, in search for wild fruits.
The once quiet town of Tanauan, Batangas was now tainted with a mysterious happening. Townsmen rummaged through the woods in hopes of finding the girl, dead or alive. The fact that the long search did not provide the citizens with a body led Mabini to believe that Salvacion was not dead. He resolved to find her and that one day they will be able to fulfill the dreams they made together.
As Mabini came to his senses, the woman was already gone. He was back on his bed at home, looking to find General Aguinaldo by the foot of his bed. Aguinaldo informs him that another pregnant woman had been found, dead.
Baffled, Mabini recalls the incident in the forest and tries his best to distinguish what seemed wrong in his meeting with Salvacion. He was certain it was Salvacion, but there was something in her that was not right. He chronicled his observations, and upon reviewing their encounter, Mabini sat, disturbed at his revelation.
Salvacion, unlike his appearance now, never aged. She looked the same as the last time he saw her, bidding him goodbye as she set foot in the woods bringing a basket with her. The most puzzling piece was revealed when Mabini noted that she was still wearing the same clothes and brought the same rattan basket that day. He thought it possible that the killings might have something to do with the sudden appearance of his long lost love.
As the killings progressed, Mabini and his team set off to find the monster. Every night they roamed the woodlands in search for the killer, which they have attributed to the large bat that they have seen and which some witnesses have confirmed seeing, some noting that it was of human form. In one of their searches they stumbled upon a severed torso behind a giant Balete tree. The men scrambled to set their net as a trap and waited for the bat’s return. As the blackness of the horizon turned to a grey haze, the men heard a familiar whacking sound approaching their station. Mabini orders his men to hide. As the human bat lowers itself to be attached to its other half, Mabini cues his men to release the net to capture the predator.
Mabini and his men succeed in capturing the manananggal and bring it to town for judgment. As the sun’s rays touched the creature, it lets out a loud shriek and starts to burn. The men drop the net to the ground as it continued to decompose in the sun’s heat.
After the intense flame has subsided, Mabini asks his men to lift one of the bat’s wings as it covered the monster’s face. He then stared in a mix of mourning and fury as the bat’s half-charred face was turned to him for identification. It was Salvacion.
July 9th, 2010 at 16:40
Not a comment, but: Dagnabbit, rinabanana! I’m from Los Banos and even I am amazed by the fact that most of our “monsters” are female… for some reason-or-other.
I was also about to write a story about Jose Rizal hunting down the infamous White Lady, upon orders from Maria Makiling (while having Philip Marlowe-esque conversations with the ghosts of tortured American soldiers at Baker Hall), which would have been epic.
But then Beerkada beat me to it:
http://www.beerkada.net/comics/2010-07-09-C156noli-elia.gif
Wonder if Lyndon Gregorio reads this blog? (And if he does, HELLO!)
July 9th, 2010 at 17:08
Lapu-Lapu: vampire hunter
By the light of the full moon, Datu Lapu-Lapu and his men watched as ten Spaniards jumped off to the shore several meters before the boat even reached the coast. They stood on the shore scanning the area with their nose up in the air, their fangs glistening in the moonlight.
Some of the Lapu-Lapu’s men almost ran off but they were stopped by the others. They have no reason to fear, one of the men said; there are almost fifty of them, with another fifty men at the other side ready to attack. And besides, their fearless leader Lapu Lapu has already killed one of these abominations, their beloved Chief Rajah Humabon.
The Chief visited Lapu-Lapu in the dead of the night, wanting to find out why he is opposing his authority in accepting their alliance with the Spaniards. Lapu-Lapu argued that he is against the Chief’s order to sacrifice five men to their Spanish allies. These men are sent to the galleon ships at dusk never to return to their families.
He is wary of the Chief whose appearance has changed since he last saw him. He noticed that the Chief and his men avoided the light of the torches and stayed in the shadows. Lapu-Lapu kept his kampilan bolo while talking to Humabon just in case. He became even more watchful when Humabon requested that they be left alone so they could talk in private.
When all of the men left the room, Rajah Humabon bared his fangs and jumped on him, to try to bite him in the neck. Even before he could sink his teeth into Lapu-Lapu, the mighty warrior with one swift stroke of his kampilan decapitated the Undead Chief. He then ordered his men to attack and decapitate their other ‘vampire’ visitors who came with Humabon. When morning came, they were surprised to find out that Humabon and his cohorts had turned to ashes.
At the battle, Datu Lapu-Lapu and his men fought bravely. Many of Lapu-Lapu’s men perished as the Undead Spaniards tore at them during the initial encounter, but with the sheer volume of the Mactan warriors, they managed to subdue the vampires. They caught Magellan alive and he was brought to the village where he was decapitated by Lapu-Lapu in front of the villagers.
Lapu-Lapu succeeded Humabon as the new tribal chief of Cebu and during his reign he led the hunt for vampires who stalked the land.
July 10th, 2010 at 14:32
José Rizal: the man, the legend, the aswang
In all of Philippine history there is not one singular character more famous or celebrated than José Protasio Rizal. There is also not a character shadier or more enigmatic, at the height of his celebrity up to the present. He was, after all, a rare sort of man; charismatic, knowledgeable, and versatile. He was architect, inventor, farmer, doctor, scientist, sociologist, economist, journalist, novelist, artist, sculptor, musician, swordsman, gunman, and an all-around ladies-man. One may wonder at his many talents and argue that all that has been said about him cannot be possible and is, in all probability, a fraud, because for a man to be so multifaceted would require supernatural explanation. That would be an accurate guess, though, since the man was possessed of an eternal life and a fondness for the meat of unborn babies, as well as the ability to fly and change physical form.
Rizal had from infancy exhibited a remarkable brightness, as well as a disturbing penchant for fresh meat. Breastfeeding was out of the question; instead of sucking at a breast for milk, he would try to eat it whole, much to his mother’s consternation (and relief that he had not yet begun teething). Nevertheless, she loved her son, and raised him and taught him as she knew best.
The little monstrosity grew up to be a big monstrosity, not only literally as an infant-abducting closet-cannibal; he pursued studies in medicine (partly for access to tasty corpses) and traveled all over Europe, meeting and eating all sorts of people—the great thinkers of the time. He set into action monstrous plans (at least in the eyes of the clergy) for social reform. He wrote Noli me Tangere, a novel which exposed the corruption of the Spanish clergy and colonial government, as well as the flaws of Philippine society. Afterward he wrote El Filibusterismo, in which he cryptically warns the powers-that-be of what would come to pass should they dare cross him.
The powers-that-be were afraid of Rizal. They would probably have taken some slight comfort in the knowledge that they were safe from his hunger (he found that politicians tasted like shit and friars were simply too much of a cholesterol hazard).The pretentious Filipino elite found him equally disturbing, and probably with greater reason as Rizal had no qualms about entering their homes at night and devouring their children. Thus, all of them were very eager to send him into exile in Dapitan. They hoped that with his absence things in the capital would settle down and they would be able to resume life without worry of revolt or of having to keep the windows locked securely after sunset.
In Dapitan, Rizal kept busy; he taught the farmers advanced methods of farming, taught the fishermen how to make better nets, built a hospital, built a water supply system, and established abaca as an essential cash crop. Given a few years, he probably would have taught the residents how to build pyramids to rival the ones at Giza.
While Rizal was happily whiling his time away in Dapitan, things had been taking a turn for the worse in the capital. The Katipunan had been discovered. The terrified clergy were under the impression that the revolutionary group was a satanic cult due to the members’ practice of drinking each other’s mingled blood as a pact of brotherhood. Most inconveniently, the Katipuneros had decided to put Rizal’s portrait and novels in places of honor, cementing the notion that Rizal was the Antichrist and the novels were books of the damned.
Forget about mock trials; once the group was exposed there was uproar to spill unholy blood. The clergy and the government officials finally believed the mad stories about a man flying onto azoteas and swallowing babies in two bites. All hell broke loose. He was shipped off back to Manila, where an angry mob composed of fat friars, unscrupulous politicians, and mourning mestiza mothers was waiting. Upon disembarking his body was immediately riddled with bullets. Off the pier he fell, and the mob came closer and shot into the water just to be sure. Soon they left, convinced that they had done the will of God and averted the apocalypse just in time for breakfast. The sun had risen on one of the darkest days of Philippine colonial history.
The Spanish had stirred up the hornets’ nest. The Katipunan launched an all-out revolt against the Spanish regime. The Katipuneros fought with a demonic frenzy, reveling in the blood feast that would have done the martyred cannibal proud. Even the friars were forced to come down from their pulpits and fight on the front with crucifixes and other tools of exorcism, and when that didn’t work, with rifles. Slowly, the Spanish forces were beaten back. The rest was forever inscribed in the annals of Philippine history.
But what of the hapless hero Rizal? His body was never recovered. It is true that no man could have survived what he had suffered that day. But we must remember that Rizal was no ordinary man; bullets could not kill one such as he, and his life does not shorten with the passage of time.
Interestingly, Rizal had foretold such a scenario in his El Filibusterismo, in which Simoun does not die from his bullet wounds but by taking poison. Simoun was also threatening to bring about the collapse of society and establish one free from the filth and decay of the old. With the state of affairs in the nation at present, one may wonder whether the man is out there pulling the strings, emerging from the shadows only to grab some unfortunate mortal and pull him into the shadows to feed. Thus, we cannot truly say that here ends the story of a man, a great legend of a man, and a fearsome man-eating monster.
July 10th, 2010 at 17:57
Tandang Sora, palabang lola
Maynila, 1896—Isang misteryosong sakit ang dumapo sa mga Katipunero. Halos kalahati sa kanila ang isa-isang tinubuan ng nagnanaknak na pigsa sa singit, na nagparalisa sa kanilang pagsagupa sa mga Espanyol. Dinala ang mga maysakit sa tahanan ni Tandang Sora, upang magamot at magpagaling.
“Conching, bunutin mo ang puno ng bayabas sa harap ng bahay,” ang utos ng 84-taong matanda na matamang nakatuon ang pansin sa mga nakabukangkang na Katipunerong namimilipit sa kanyang harapan.
“Ngunit Tandang Sora, nakabaon sa semento ang puno ng bayabas.”
“Nais mo bang tumulong sa Inang Bayan, Conching?”
“Over!” ang tahimik na sabi ni Conching sabay labas ng bahay bitbit ang isang gunting.
Wari’y nagsasagot ng Sudoku ang matanda habang nginunguya ang mga dahon ng bayabas na nasa kanyang harapan. Maya’t maya’y idinudura niya ang mga nginuyang dahon sa isang palanggana. Nang maubos niya ang buong puno, tumayo siya.
“Makinig kayong lahat mga Katipunero. Bihira ang sakit na dumapo sa inyo. Hayaan ninyong isa-isang itapal ni Conching sa mga nagnanaknak ninyong singit ang mga nginuyang dahon ng bayabas.”
Ilan sa mga Katipunero ay narinig na na nagsabi ng “gross” pero wala rin silang nagawa.
Nang matapos tapalan ng bayabas ang mga singit ng mga Katipunero, lumapit ang matanda kay Conching.
“Ipahid mo ito sa kanila pagkatapos gumaling ng sugat,” sabay bunot ng isang bagay sa bulsa ng kanyang saya.
“Ano po ito, Tandang Sora?”
“Contractubex, para mawala ang peklat. Dyahe kaya yung may peklat ka sa singit.”
“I know right!” ang sabi ni Andres Bonifacio na nakikinig pala sa matanda.
Umakyat muna sa ikalawang palapag ng bahay ang matanda para manood ng Glee, subalit nakakailang episodes pa lang siya ay narinig na niya ang malalakas na hinaing ng mga Katipunero. Agad siyang nagcartwheel pababa ng hagdan para kunyari may dramatic effect.
“Anong nangyayari dito?”
“Tandang Sora! Ang mga pigsa namin, nilalabasan ng mga alupihan!” sigaw ng isang Katipunero sabay pinanawan ng ulirat.
“Diyos kong mahabagin, binabarang kayo!” ang sabi ng matanda. “Mananagot sa akin ang may gawa nito.”
“Dapat nakinig na lang ako sa aking asawa at hindi na ako sumapi sa Katipunan. Sana’y nagniniig na lang kami ngayon tulad ng kanyang nais,” ang sabi ng isang Katipunerong nagdadrama doon sa may sulok.
“Siyang tunay!” ang sagot naman ng isang ayaw magpasapaw. “Ang aking misis din ay pinagsabihan akong manatili na lamang sa aming tahanan dahil lubhang mapanganib ang pakikipagsagupa sa mga Espanyol. Sana’y nakinig na lamang tayo sa ating mga asawa.”
Biglang napakunot ng noo ang matanda ngunit hindi rin halata dahil may wrinkles na siya sa noo noong panahong iyon.
“Lahat ng may asawa, itaas ang kamay!”
Nagtaas ng kamay ang halos kalahati ng mga Katipunero. Nilapitan silang lahat ni Tandang Sora at sinuri ang bawat isa.
“Anak ng mapanghing arinola,” ang sabi niya sa sarili.
“Matulog na kayong lahat mga anak. Bukas na bukas ay magagaling na kayo.”
Habang mahimbing na natutulog ang lahat, bumaba sa basement ng kanyang bahay si Tandang Sora upang buksan ang isang inaanay na baul. Sa loob nito ay isang cat suit na yari sa balat ng kalabaw na inalagaan niya noon, si Buffy.
“Panahon na upang magamit ko ito.”
Agad siyang nagbihis at nagpunta sa bubungan ng kanyang bahay upang suriin ang paligid. Halos wala nang ilaw ang lahat ng kabahayan maliban sa isang kubo sa di kalayuan.
Mula sa kinatatayuan, nagpatalun-talon ang matanda sa mga bubungan ng bawat bahay habang nakikinig sa You Want a Piece of Me ni Britney Spears sa kanyang iPod. Nang makarating sa kubo, maingat siyang naglakad sa ibabaw ng pawid upang hindi bumagsak.
Animo’y isang manananggal na naghahanap ng buntis, sumilip siya sa isang butas sa pagitan ng pawid, at nakita niyang nakapaikot sa paligid ng isang umuusok na palayok ang ilang kababaihang magulo ang buhok at naka-eyeliner.
“Anong dala ninyo ngayon?” ang tanong ng isa.
“Heto. Ang ingrown ni Pedring na nakuha ko kahapon noong nagpapedicure siya sa akin.”
“Ito, langib ng sugat sa paa ni Reming.”
“Balat ng labi ni Kardo. Tinanggal ko nung pinilit ko siyang magwild makeout session kami.”
Mayroong naglabas ng isang maikling piraso ng kulot na buhok ngunit hindi na niya sinabi kung ano iyon dahil hindi na nga naman kailangan.
Isa isa pang naglabasan ng kanya-kanyang baon ang mga kababaihan at inilagay ang mga iyon sa palayok. Nang matapos ang lahat ay nagsalita ang isa sa kanila.
“Mga inutil na lalake. Wala nang ginawa upang paligayahin tayo. Mas mahalaga pa ang bayan kaysa asawa.”
“Kurek!” ang sabi ng isa sabay tawa na akala mo’y sinapian ni Celia Rodriguez. “Kung hindi rin natin sila mapakikinabangan, mabuti pang wala nang makinabang sa kanila.”
“Exagg!” ang sabi ni Tandang Sora sa ibabaw ng kubo. “Mga tinamaan ng lintik itong mga dalahirang ito.” Sa sobrang stress ay napahugot siya ng tabako na nakasipit sa kanyang baewang at agad na sinindihan ito. Kung saan siya kumuha ng panindi ay di ko na alam.
Nagbackflip ang matanda mula sa bubong upang bumaba.
“Kraak.” Lumagutok ang gulugod niya pag landing pero ikinembot lang niya iyon. Agad siyang nanakbo sa talahiban at naghanap ng natuyong kugon. Pinagbubunot niya ang mga ito hanggang sa nakaipon siya ng isang malaking bungkos. Bumalik siya sa kubo at inilagay ang mga iyon sa pintuan ng bahay. Upang hindi marinig ng mga babae ang kanyang mga galaw, nagpanggap siyang isang tunay na pusa.
Pagkatapos ay bumunot siya ng papel at ballpen sa kanyang bulsa at nagsulat ng: “Kami ang may kasalanan—mga Espanyol.” Nilamukos niya ito at itinapon sa di kalayuan.
Ibinato niya ang nagbabagang tabako sa kugon, na agad na nagliyab. Nilamon agad ng malaking apoy ang kubo. Biglang naghiyawan ang mga nasa loob ngunit hindi na iyon pinansin ni Tandang Sora. Naglakad na lamang siya ng mabagal palayo sa nagliliyab na kubo at nagsindi ng isa pang tabako, habang tumutugtog pa rin ang You Want a Piece of Me sa kanyang iPod.
Kinabukasan ay ginising ang lahat ng isang binatilyong Katipunero.
“Mga kasama, magsibangon kayo, madali! Kailangan nating maghiganti!”
July 10th, 2010 at 22:20
Revisionist History – Now Na!
July 2010: I have never seen him like this before. He had been pacing restlessly about our abode and drinking unusual amounts of coffee, more so than his numerous incarcerations under the Marcos regime.
I had just spent the last few days explaining to him that we are supposed to be at peace, now that our son has finally taken the oath of office. Maybe it’s the journalist in him, I thought – which explains all those trips to Tarlac, Bataan, and Los Banos to interview the tortured souls of soldiers from the last World War. Perhaps they have seen something that he didn’t, and he needed to have confirmation.
Finally, I brought him another pot of coffee and said it out loud:
“Ninoy, we really need to talk.”
“I know, Cory.”
He laid out all the newspapers on the table.
“She is still your daughter, you know,” I said to him.
“For the last time, Cory,” he insisted firmly, “I do NOT want to talk about Kris any more!”
In his hand was a picture of his two grandsons, which he continued to look at with intense scrutiny.
“Something is not right with the boy,” he said.
“You said that last time with Joshua,” I answered, shaking my head.
He continued to point at the picture, and immediately I realized that he was definitely not talking about our Josh.
“Somebody reported that she threw James out after something he said in front of the child,” he insisted. “We have to go.”
“Now na?”
“Now na!”
And off we went, in search of our grandsons – right before they were about to leave for their overseas trip – until we found the room where the boys were sleeping.
“Cory, I need to show you something.”
We saw Baby James asleep in his bed, looking very much like the angel that his mother carried around with tenderness. He stirred for a moment, before he opened his wide eyes… and pulled out his fangs and claws.
“Oh, my God! Ang anak ni Kris!”
Ninoy raised his eyebrow at me, which made me giggle like a colegiala again. “Sinasabi ko na sa iyo, eh.”
“Lintek na mga demonyong iyan!” I cried out. “Hindi natin puwedeng ulitin dito ang nangyari sa mga Macapagal!”
“Kaya nga,” he retorted. “Besides, kung pinagpalit nga ng mga impakto ang baby mo sa isang tiyanak, aaminin mo ba iyan sa The Buzz?”
For a moment our eyes met, just like our first meeting. Then we looked back at the tiyanak, who was now ready to pounce on us.
“Kailangang matapos na ito kaagad, Cory.”
“So what are we going to do, then?”
He took out the bullet that felled him on the tarmac, coated it with garlic, and loaded it into his homemade gun.
“The same thing we always do to the other tiyanaks, my dear,” he said. “Go get your rosary.”
July 11th, 2010 at 11:59
to johnrbristol6 – funny, I’ll be reposting that to my FB acct…
July 11th, 2010 at 12:30
Ang pinakamatagal na rebolusyon ay pinamunuan ni Francisco Dagohoy sa Bohol mahigit kumulang sa 85 na taon. Isa syang imortal at hanggang ngayon ay nagtatago sa kabundukan ng Danao, Bohol.
Sa kanyang pamumuno, nakatipon siya ng malalakas at ekstra ordinaryong mga mandirigma na tumugon sa kanyang tawag – bumubulong sya sa hangin at nadadala ang mensahe kasinglayo ng Batangas kung saan ang matagal na kaibigan at kakampi, Miguel Malvar ay naroon kasama ng mga narekrut niya. Sa bisa ng bulong, napapaabot ni Dagohoy ang mensahe sa kaibigan.
Kasama ni Dagohoy ang pinakamagiting nyang sundalo, ang mga taong lobo ng Bohol na kinakatakutan ng mga Espanyol, ang mga mambabarang ng lugar nila at katulong ang mga lamang lupa sa loob ng malalaking punso ng Chocolate Hills, ang pinakamalaking kaharian ng mga duwende. Kakampi ni Malvar nman ang mga tikitik, ang mga taong puno (kaya ang mga PIlipino ay sumasamba sa kalikasan na ikinainis ng mga Kastila at pinalitan nila ng Kristyanismo ) at ang mga magigilas na magtatawas (fortune tellers) ng Batangas (kung saan sa bandang huli ay magtutulak kay Malvar na sumuko na din dahil ipinaalam na ni Aguinaldo sa mga Kastila ang sikretong samahang ito). kapag minsan dumadalaw si Maria Makiling upang magbigay ng tulong. Nakahingi at isang mabuting kaibigan na nagbbigay sa knila ng modernong armas, si Panday Pira. Sila ang mga reserves ng Katipunan.
Ipinaalam nila ang ekstra ordinaryong samahan kina Aguinaldo, Mabini at Bonifacio na hinde pala lingid sa kaalamang ito, samantalang si Rizal ay nasa Europa para humingi ng tulong sa mga kaibigang Lobo, Bampira at mga kakaibang nilalang sa gabi.
Kinatatakutan at iniilagan ang kanilang samahan, kaya napatagal nila ng humigit kumulang na 85 na taon ang rebolusyon pero hinde nila inasahan ang ganti ng mga Espanyol, binayaran at humingi ng tulong sa pinakamagiting na mandirigma ng Europa, nakaligtas ang kaalamang ito kay Rizal sa kadahilanang naging pabaya sya sa tunkgulin at nahalina sa mga babae duon. Ang taktikang binuo ng mga Espanyol at sa impluwensya ng isang duktor at kaibigan sa London.
May kung anung kaalaman sa modernong paraan at pangeespiya ang taung binayaran ng Espanya. Nalalaman at naiintercept ang mga mensahe at nakuha pang ibrainwash ang mga isip ng lamang lupa kaya sila mismo nagrebolusyon at nabuo ang mga pangkat na duwendeng itim, puti at pula, ang mga kapre ay nahumaling sa tabakong galing Europa at hinde na naging malinaw ang prediskyong ng mga magttawas. Dito nabuwag at nagkawatak watak ang sikretong samahan. Napilitang sumuko si Malvar at si Dagohoy nman ay napabalitang namatay na sa kanyang kweba.
Malaki ang ibinayad ng mga Espanyol kay Van Helsing.
July 12th, 2010 at 03:02
To Catarina: Don’t worry about the prize from the previous contest. I’ll give your email address to the Disney people and you can arrange for delivery.
July 12th, 2010 at 23:30
Here’s my entry if I’m not disqualified for winning in the PostSecret raffle (the book was great, thank you):
Jose Rizal, Doppelganger Slayer
Before becoming a hero and a legend, in his early years, young Jose Rizal had a curious incident. One moonlit night he was walking home with his sisters after attending a wedding party from the other side of town. Along their path they passed barren fields and scattered trees, with faint gasera light from nipa houses dotting the distance. It was a quiet night, and no one else is in sight, and the calm chatter between his siblings was the only sound Jose can hear.
Peaceful as it was, Jose had a gut feeling that something ugly was coming their way…
And soon Jose was able to confirm his sense of fear. He noticed something wrong with his youngest sister, Soledad.
He whispered to his older sister Maria, “Ate, huwag kang magpapakita ng takot, pero tignan mo, dalawa ang anino ni Soledad.”
It was the ultimate sign of the doppelganger, its victim shows two shadows. And there, from the moon’s silvery light, little Soledad, unknowing to the danger which has befallen her, walked the path with two shadows on the ground.
Jose and Maria did not show their fear, or alert their younger sisters, lest they create panic. They reached their home safely, and as soon as everyone got inside, the door was bolted and everyone was tucked to bed to sleep their heads.
Everyone but Jose. He was wide awake, and he strained his ears to listen to all the nocturnal sounds around him. He waited patiently, until…
Knock, knock, knock.
Someone was tapping lightly on their front door. Jose crept to his window to see, and there was Soledad, her long hair and robes flying in the wind. Jose went to the door and opened it.
“Kuya, papasukin mo ako–”
And that moment Jose drove a dagger through the doppelganger’s heart. The doppelganger let out a shriek, and dragged its wounded self into the bushes and the darkness beyond.
That night, Jose had an unending battle with doppelgangers. Through the years of his adolescence and adulthood he encountered a total of seventeen doppelgangers who copied his family and friends in attempts to deceive them and cause them harm.
Jose then got tired of slaying doppelgangers, and one night, when he caught one attempting to copy Andres Bonifacio, he made a wager. He will let the doppelganger copy himself and keep his body. In return, Jose will spend the rest of his life in seclusion.
The doppelganger agreed. It copied Jose Rizal himself.
And it happened on the day of Jose Rizal’s execution.
The End.
Ahahahaha cheesy and inaccurate but I had fun writing it.
July 13th, 2010 at 17:45
Love & Diversity
Manuel hailed from Capiz, land of diverse crops and fortunes, bloodlines and class. Standoffish when with other landed gentry, even as a child Manuel found himself gravitating towards the easy, unaffected camaraderie of the hacienda’s extended families.
In the summer of 1907, fifteen-year old Manuel began a special friendship with Maria, an exceptionally fair young lady whom the social orders of the day categorized as “different.” This being Capiz however, alliances or more to the point, dalliances like theirs were to be expected, once in a while, and both families chose to tolerate the close friendship. This tolerance the young lovers took for acceptance, and spurred the loom in which they weaved dreams of a future together.
But dreams, like all blissful summers, must end. Manuel had to leave for Manila, where higher studies had been arranged, and surely he realized they hadn’t intended for him to live out his youth in Capiz?
The lovers’ last goodbye, like all quixotic farewells of youth, was besieged with promises. Manuel eagerly acquiesced to all that was asked of him, and demanded the same of Maria: unrelenting love and fidelity, and a nurtured anticipation of that day when they should meet again. But Maria, born with her kin’s sensibility and a keen woman’s intuition, extracted a pledge far more challenging. Of Manuel she asked and was readily granted, an oath of betrothal; if not in this lifetime of veiled but palpable discrimination, then of the next, where love between classes would be deemed acceptable, even applauded.
Between 1907 and Manuel’s untimely death in 1948, Maria and Manuel met only once, in Manuel’s bedroom in the early hours of his wedding day in 1921. Maria, who had not aged a day since he last saw her, smiled and timidly asked Manuel if he still meant to keep his pledge. And Manuel, a gentleman forever true to his heart’s dictates, reaffirmed his promise with a resounding, most overwhelming yes. Hasta luego mi amor, veremos en la Iglesia de Santo Domingo, whispered Maria as she faded into the sunbeams of the waning dawn.
Eighty-eight years later, on October 27, 2009, elusive bachelor Manuel “Mar” Roxas married the incandescent, ever-youthful Korina Maria Sanchez at the Santo Domingo Church in Quezon City. From Capiz to the Cordilleras, a whole country applauded the couple’s union.
July 14th, 2010 at 14:51
Narito na ang pinakaabangang obra mula sa batikang may-akda ng “Bampira ang Jowa mo?! Ewwwwww…!”, ang:
“Agaw-dilim, Agaw-Liwanag: Mga Itinagong Kwento ng Rebolusyon”!
Tatlong kuwento ng misteryo at kababalaghan sa gitna ng mga pangyayari sa pag-bukang liwayway ng isang bagong bansa.
“Ang Anak ni J”
Los Banos, Laguna- Sa gitna ng pakikidigma laban sa mga Kastila para mapalaya ang probinsya, dinalaw si Heneral Paciano Rizal ng isang misteryosong panauhin: isang Pilipino-Pranses na Heswita na nagngangalang Adso de Melk V. Iniimbestigahan ng Heswita ang magkakadugtong ng pagkamatay ng mga prayle na nagsimula sa Zamboanga, at nagpatuloy sa mga probinsya ng Katagalugan. Hindi nag-iiba mga pangyayari bago maganap ang pagkamatay: iisa lang ang nabanggit na narinig ng mga naroon sa lugar sa mga gabi bago matuklasan ang bangkay ng mga prayle, ang paghibik ng sanggol!
Matindi ang kutob ng heneral na malaki ang kaugnayan nito sa sa di mabilang ng gabing binagabag siya ng kanyang di-nasilayang pamangkin, ang tanging anak ng mahal niyang kapatid na si Pepe…ang anak ni J! Tama kaya ang Heswita siya nga ang susi sa paglutas ng hiwagang ito? At kung ito nga ay totoo, nanaisin ba niya itong tapusin?
“Dugong Putik”
Maragondon, Cavite-Para kay Ramon Leonardo Domingo Revilla y Bordado, pambato sa tanhalan ng moro-moro, mangingibig, tenyente sa rebolusyonaryong hukbo ng Magdalo, at lihim na tagapag-ingat ng mahiwagang hito, ang mga pag-uutos na umiwas sa pagdako sa paanan ng Bundok Buntis sa pagsapit ng dilim, ay may mas malalim at malagim na dahilan.
Naging saksi si Nardo sa isa sa pinakamatinding pag-alipusta sa katarungan na isnagawa roon, sa ngalan ng rebolusyon. Isa si Nardo sa lihim na tumutol sa isinagawang hatol sa isang kapwa alagad ng sining, ang kanyang hinahangaang Supremo. At sa mga magkakasunod lkahindik-hindik na pagkakapaslang ng mga kasapi ng Magdalo sa lugar na yon, hindi maiwasan ni Nardo ang gumagapang na kilabot sa kanyang kamalayan: naghihiganti sila!
At may kakayanan man o wala, batid ni Nardo na higit pa sa iniingatan niyang lihim na birtud ang kailangan para malutas ang mga pagpaslang na ito.
“Manananggol”
Rosales, Pangasinan –May lihim na iniingatan si Istak na kahit kailan man ay hindi niya maitatala sa kanyang tala-arawan, at ito ay tungkol sa isang taong nagmistulang tagapagsindi ng apoy ng kanyang kamalayan, kay Manong Pule. Para sa nakararaming tagapagsulong ng rebolusyonaryong pamahalaan, ang mga pananaw ni Manong Pule ay imposible at hindi naaayon sa pangunahing pangangailangan sa pamamahahala, ngunit para kay Istak,ang lawak at lalim ng ganitong kaisipan ay napanday matapos ng isang matinding pagsubok at pagbubuwis. Sino pa ba ang makakaunawa sa pagpigil sa pagdungaw ng halimaw ng kapangyarihan sa kamay ng iilan kundi ang isang gumapi sa kanyang sariling halimaw? Sino pa ba ang makakapagsapuso ng lawak at lalim hamong ng kakaharapin ng isang bagong-silang na bansa, kundi ang isang nilalang na namamalas ang taglay nitong kariktan at natatagong lakas, mula sa nag-aagaw-liwanag na himpapawid? Sino ang nakakaalam ng hapdi ng pagkakahati ng mga mamayan, kundi ang isang dumaranas nito, pagsapit ng paghiwalayi ng dati at bagong araw? Sino pa kundi si Manong Pule Mabini, dakilang paralitiko, manananggol,…MANANANGGAL!
July 14th, 2010 at 16:10
Tooth and Nail: The Declaration of War & Martial Law
Marcos was a crazy bastard but he did some good.
For example, Martial Law? He had his reasons for it, the primary one being to kill all monsters. Big-assed, flying, digging, crawling, teeth and claws, bloodthirsty monsters. They were coming out of the woodwork and it took all Marcos and the government to put them down without panicking the public in the ‘70s.
Of course this took a toll on Marcos’ New Society with accusations of corruption and killings. Marcos couldn’t reveal we were actually fighting a war of shadows at that time and this would later cost him when the military took the side of civil society in Edsa ’86.
Truth is stranger than fiction. Take for example Jabidah Massacre. Remember that? Where more than a hundred Moro soldiers and officers were recruited and trained to invade Sabah? And when the operation was aborted, it was said the soldiers were summarily executed by the military?
Well, there’s an even more interesting story behind that one.
Reports started to surface in 1965 of four monsters appearing on the islands off Tawi-tawi, near Sabah. They killed all the islanders and turned the place into a ‘desolate wilderness.’
Reports indicated they were the four monsters of legend: the many-limbed Kurita, the man-shaped Tarabusaw, the gigantic bird-like Pah, and the seven-headed bird that was not named.
In order to save the remaining inhabitants, Marcos had ordered a special unit of Muslim soldiers be drawn up for a special mission.
Their first task was to try to retrieve the people there and bring them to safety. Marcos’ strategy in using the Muslim soldiers was that they would be able to talk to the people there.
Their other task was to kill the monsters.
One thing you could say about Marcos’ claims of being the Filipino Audie Murphy of World War 2, he had the balls to back it up. With only a handful of his own PSG, he led the Jabidah commando unit into action against the monsters.
What happened? Of more than 200 Muslim soldiers who had landed on the islands, only twenty were left when they finally managed to kill all the monsters. Marcos was severely wounded—that damned kidney problem—and he was never truly the same afterwards.
But that was the start of it all, when the government’s official war of shadows started and the declaration of Martial Law.
So yeah: Marcos was a bastard but he eventually did some good.
July 14th, 2010 at 18:24
The Real Treaty Of Paris
Somewhere in Makati, the first house in its first crossroad, I had my rendition of chat-speak with my Grandmother. I can’t believe that our old foreign men from the Philippine version of Whitehouse will cry over a character from Shake, Rattle and Roll. I don’t know which part of the never ending series but I remember Manilyn Reynes is present there which puts me into saying that she is the original Queen of Abhor. My Mamang didn’t contest to my thought. I felt it – she gave that almost half smile. Then, she continues her share of the tale I don’t want to believe, but I am force to believe.
Mamang said in a cold tone: “I still remember what one American told me. He told me in a Filipino-English halo-halo kind of accent: ‘We Americans didn’t want the 20 million dollars. We just wanted that small creature from the swamp of lilies, own-dean. That is their bubble gum on the mouth version of “Undin”’.
I am lost for words. I didn’t breathe for eons within those few seconds.
I overreacted beautifully and after breathing in courage and disbelief:
Me: “You mean they’d rather have an endemic, I presume extinct, Filipino creature?”
Mamang: “What’s wrong with that? They’re rare you know”.
Me: “Nothing. A creature in your own toilet is not bad at all. Free regular cleaning”.
Mamang: “They’re better than dogs”.
Me: “I know. I still keep George in the toilet on the second floor”.
(We are both silent for almost a minute).
Me: “Mamang, I am hungry. Can you get out of my body now?”
Mamang: “No problem, but when you call me please use “Lapu-lapu con Rizal”. I don’t like my other incarnations. Take care and talk to you later. I have another short short story for you tomorrow”.
Me: “Ok. Just shut up for now. I’ll call you Grandma or Mamang”.
July 15th, 2010 at 05:26
Apolinario Mabini: The Child of the Propheccy – The Last Bruha [Witch] Slayer
People were told I died of cholera. Duh…
You are prolly wondering why I’m able to stand and walk. For decades, you, and your parents, and your grandparents, had all been taught that I was a paralytic. It’s no bollocks. My muscles were atrophying years before I died. But I must tell you, history doesn’t always tell the whole story; maybe not even half of it. I’m not sure if I can find all the right words to eloquently describe everything. It’s something beyond the world you know, and I may not be able to describe it sufficiently in wordly terms.
But let me try. And oh, just so you know, you’re looking at a dead man.
A little moment after the priest said his prayers for the dying, I died. For a few moments, I was just lying in bed, you know, eyes still closed, thinking if I were really dead. I felt airy and light-headed as I rose out of the bed. I looked around to see everyone inside my room, and they were all crying. But the one that really caught my attention was an old lady in a long black dress standing by the door. She had something like a scar under her left eye. Everyone was a familiar face, except that old lady who seemed more scared than anything. I knew she saw me because she was the only one who looked back at me.
My eyes were on the old lady when a blinding light shown from above. It was so bright it hurt my eyes. “This is probably the light they were talking about.”, I thought. And so, I waited for an angel, or God, to appear. I was looking at the bright light for a minute, or maybe longer, till a human figure appeared across the room. But it wasn’t an angel, nor God.
“The time has come, Apolinario.”
I recognized the voice outright. It came like a signal – a confirmation that I was really dead. It was my late grandmother.
“Welcome to the afterlife. Your lolo and your inay wanted to come with me, but they’re both in a mission. I have good news and bad news for you grandson.” She said.
“I’ll pay you to keep the bad news. Don’t tell me I’m dead.”
“I’m going to tell you both anyway. Listen, you’re dead but you didn’t die of cholera. And you have a special mission.” she said.
“What do you mean I didn’t die of cholera?”
“You were killed by a witch. A bruhang mambabarang, to be exact.” she said.
I replied, “I was told I died of cholera. I think I really did. I had severe diarrhea and…” my lola cut me short.
“No Apo. I wanted to protect you, but what can I, a powerless soul, do? I can’t even lift a needle. Unlike you. You are the child of the prophecy, and the time has come for you to realize your destiny. I and your grandfather, as well as your mom – we all died in the battle against the bruhas.”
“Wait. You mean, the story about the clan is true?”
“Yes.”
“That you’re witches?”
“No! We are the Witch slayers!”
“I was just kidding. I know. But what is it about me being the child of the prophecy?”
“It is a long story, I do not have much time remaining to tell you all the details. I can only stay for another minute or two. We thought we killed the last of their kind, but we’re wrong. Listen grandson, everyone, again, is in great danger because of the bruhas. They know you are the child of the prophecy that’s why they killed you. But they’re wrong when they thought they could stop you by killing you. You are destined to protect the Earth from all the bruhas and evil. You’re the last Bruha Slayer.”, she said.
“Wait lola, not that fast. I’m confused.” I said. “I know I was part of the Katipunan before I died, but you see, I don’t even know how to hold a bolo. And now you’re telling me that I am the child of the prophecy and I am the last Bruha Slayer?”
She continued. “Listen Apo, a holy machine-gun loaded with unlimited holy silver bullets is burried 7 feet under the mango tree, at the backyard of your great-grandfather’s house in Batangas. That’s the weapon only you, the child of the prophecy, can use, and….”, I interrupted her.
“I think you don’t understand what you’re saying lola. I’m dead. How can I dig something underground?”
“Sure you can. Just listen to me, I’m about to be gone.” she continued. “Also, there’s a secret that only our clan, the Witch Slayers, possess – a secret that we hold, guard, and prize. It’s what we used in our
battles with the witches. I am now entrusting the secret to you. That should be of help too along with your holy machine-gun. It’s in a scroll, which is burried 7 feet under the santol tree, just beside the mango tree where your holy machine-gun is. Use it to kill the witches. Remember this, bruhas have a physical mark – a claw-mark under the left eye. Don’t be fooled. Follow the direction in the scroll… and you must remember… you are the last Bruha Slayer…””
And she was gone.
You see, just like you, I thought everything was just a joke. I thought my conversation with my lola was just an illusion; a post-dream after I died. But they’re all real. I got the machine-gun with unlimited silver bullets, and the scroll with the secret message. And yes, I can move things at will.
How many have I killed? 24 witches to date. And I won’t stop till the last of their kind is dead.
Oh, by the way, welcome to the afterlife. What’s your name?
July 15th, 2010 at 11:48
This is Part One of The Aswang Trilogy
The Supremo
It was a rainy night. The wind was howling like a wounded wolf. The moon casting an eerie glow on the woods surrounding a small hut.
Inside, lamps were lit. A man lay prone on the bamboo papag. His body riddled with bloody gashes. Beside him stood his brother.
August 31, 1896.
San Juan del Monte
Andres Bonifacio was still reeling from his recent loss. The attack he led. Lives were lost, his brother’s was almost one.
“We would have succeeded, had Emilio listened to me.” said Andres.
“I don’t think Emilio listens to anyone, anymore.” said the albularyo while tending to Procopio’s wounds. “I have heard tell that he has allied himself with powerful forces.”
“Americans?”
“Far more powerful, I am afraid.”
“What are you talking about, old man?”
“My child, there are far more powerful forces than Americans and Spaniards. Your brother’s wounds are not normal ones. These are cursed.”
“Cursed?”
“Yes. These are claw marks of an aswang. I could not tell what, but these are definitely aswang. His temperature rises with the moon, eh?”
“Y-yes…”
The albularyo stood up. He turned towards Andres and said something. A soft whisper.
Andres stared at the man. What is he asking me to do. Is he crazy? I could not possibly do that.
“I better think this over, Ka Mulong. I will retire for the night.”
September 01, 1896.
San Juan del Monte
“Honestly kuya, I am feeling better. My fever broke and I am feeling fine.”
“That’s what you told me yesterday.”
Andres eyed his brother warily. If what Ka Mulong said was true, he only had little time to think things over. Whatever he needs to do, he has to do it quickly or all would be lost.
“Procopio, I will be leaving tonight. I need you to look after yourself while I am away.”
“Kuya? I want to come with you.” Procopio protested. “I am capable of defending myself.”
“That’s what you told me the other day.”
The attack on San Juan del Monte was a brilliant plan. Andres was to lead an attack on the western front of the water station (which supplied Manila), while Fermin and Procopio takes on the south and east.
It would’ve worked had Aguinaldo sent some of his men to cover the north. Yet, on the day of the planned attack, none of the promised men came. Aguinaldo turned on his word.
Fermin, one of his trusted Katipuneros, wanted to postpone the attack until reinforcements came. Procopio thought otherwise.
“If we attack now, we will take them by surprise” he said.
“We leave the north face unprotected, the Spanish reinforcements could pass through the river.” Fermin countered.
“Procopio, I think Fermin has a point. Besides, I don’t want to put our men in danger. We have lost men on missions. I don’t want to lose anyone, anymore.”
“I am capable of protecting myself, kuya. And so should everyone else.”
In the midst of the battle, Procopio was scouring the forest for his men. He heard shouts ahead of him. He ran towards the sound. There, in the clearing, a man stood.
His face was covered in blood, his clothes tattered and his feet and hands muddy.
“Are you hurt?” Procopio asked.
A strange guttural sound came from the man. He walked towards Procopio, his eyes fixed like a wolf stalking its prey.
“Your blood smells like him, yet you are not him. A brother perhaps?” the man said.
Procopio’s heart was pounding. He could smell the man now. A faint animal musk mingled with blood. Procopio wanted to run, yet he was rooted to the spot. “What do you want?”
“I seek only the blood that was promised.”
“Who sent you here?”
“I was not sent here, boy! This is my realm. You trespassed. You did not pay the necessary tribute. But do not worry, someone was willing to pay. He sent his slaves to take the tab, so to speak.” The man smiled.
Suddenly, a blade came from nowhere. Procopio swung his bolo again and again. Slashing, trying to hit the man. But the man was fast.
“Ahhhh. You test my patience, young man. I was going to spare your life, but you leave me with no choice.”
The man leapt towards Procopio.
Then there was darkness.
September 01, 1896.
12:03 PM
“I want everyone to move out to Morong before sundown. Only Ka Mulong and I will stay.”
“Supremo, we need you to lead us.”
“Francisco will lead you. I need you to follow my orders. It is for your own safety.” Andres said, his tone final.
September 01, 1896.
5:58 PM
With all his men gone, Andres prepared for battle.
Typically, these creatures hunt in the night, using the moonlight’s power to transform. However; in the day, they are much more dangerous.
Aswangs set out in daylight to create other aswangs. They attack humans, not as prey but to infect them.
Procopio was infected. The aswang wanted him alive for some purpose.
“We need to kill the aswang that attacked Procopio or we will have to kill your brother.”
Andres had little time to think. Time was running out.
9:05 PM
Andres waited in the clearing where they found Procopio. He could sense someone watching him. Leaves overhead rustled as a huge uwak landed.
The uwak raised its wings and glided towards Andres. It circled the clearing before slowly touching down on the ground. Its feet slowly grazing the mossy forest floor. The aswang has arrived.
“What do you want?”
“I was promised your blood, Andres.”
“By whom?”
“You have enemies everywhere.” the aswang said.
Andres walked towards the aswang. He felt no fear. In its place was anger. Anger for this creature who threatened his brother. Anger for the unseen puppet master pulling this wicked aswang’s strings.
“You will die tonight.”
September 05, 1896
Morong, Rizal
“Good evening, Supremo. Where is Ka Mulong?”
Andres walked towards the kubo to rest. He had a score to settle with the General.
July 15th, 2010 at 11:49
Part Two (I know I shouldn’t but I just can’t help it.”
The Adviser
July 23, 1864.
Barangay Talaga, Tanauan, Batangas.
A woman’s screams pierced the night’s silence.
Dionisia Maranan never expected this pain. She was no stranger to pain, having endured it every night. But this pain was different.
“Just a little more, Dionisia.” her mother said. “Push.”
A child’s cry echoed in the hills of the forest.
July 22, 1882
11:07 PM
On the eve of his birth, Apolinario prepared for the ritual that was about to take place. He is to come of age, a very important event in the lives of the Mabini Clan.
“Tonight, I will embrace my birthright, inay.”
“Yes, you will, and you will have to pass the test in order to be your father’s heir.” Dionisia said.
Apolinario understood. To be a Mabini, one has to pass a test. One that would challenge even the strongest clan members.
Dionisia led her son into the forest. His father was in the middle of a clearing, waiting for them.
“Prove to me that you are worthy of my throne, my son. Battle me. If you emerge victorious, my crown is yours. Otherwise, you shall be banished from this place.”
“Yes, father.”
Apolinario stared at his father’s naked body. His dark skin, glistening in the moonlight. Inocencio Mabini crouched and prepared to attack. He leapt, and turned into a black dog. His canines dribbling with saliva.
Apolinario was startled. He was not ready for this. He jumped sideways to avoid his father’s claws. Apolinario looked around. Half of the barrio was watching. His mother’s face stood out among them. Her eyes betrayed her fear.
Apolinario kicked his father and slowly backed away. He was watching the black dog intently. He told himself, this is a test. Prove yourself worthy of your blood.
Apolinario’s body shivered. His blood pulsed in his veins. His heart working double time. Adrenaline was filling him now. He crouched, preparing to attack the great black dog. Apolinario leapt into the air and turned into a brown dog. Equally menacing as his father is.
Cries of pain rended the midnight air. Inocencio’s jaws were clamped around Apolinario’s front legs.
A woman’s voice brought him back to reality. “Inocencio!”
Inocencio bit deeper. His son’s blood dribbling on his lips. Suddenly, he let go. Apolinario’s limp body lay on the muddy forest floor.
Inocencio, did not care. His son was not a worthy aswang after all.
“M-mother…I can’t feel my legs.”
March 05, 1896.
Los Baños, Laguna
Emilio Aguinaldo had always wanted to meet Mabini. He heard that Mabini was now giving the revolution his whole hearted support following Rizal’s death a couple of years ago.
I need an adviser – a very good one, he said to himself.
“Silvio. Send message to Mabini. Tell him I want to meet him in Kawit. ”
“Yes, General.”
April 15, 1896
Kawit, Cavite
Aguinaldo sent his men to fetch Apolinario Mabini. He wanted him protected at all times. Supporters of the revolution have an uncanny ability to disappear while en route.
“General. The men have arrived.”
“Tell them I shall be with them in a while, Silvio.”
Emilio Aguinaldo walked towards the drawing room where he instructed his man servant Silvio to conduct his guest.
There was a stunned silence as Emilio stared at the man, that not long ago, he was so eager to see.
Silvio’s lifeless body lay on the floor beside Apolinario Mabini’s hammock.
“Forgive my intrusion, General. I was hungy and I had travelled far. You did not provide me enough men for snacks. I had to keep some of them alive, lest I would be stranded, didn’t I.”
“W-what are you?” the startled General asked.
“I am your greatest assest.” Mabini said, wiping blood on the sleeves of his camisa de chino.
April 16, 1896
Kawit, Cavite
Apolinario sat by the second floor window of the Aguinaldo Mansion. His thoughts adrift.
He could remember his youth in Tanauan. The scent of the hunt. As a human, his legs were paralyzed. A gift his father gave him for his birthday.
But as an aswang, he was murderous. He had the strength of a thousand men. His legs were never a problem.
An aswang’s body is a biological miracle. It would heal any wound inflicted to the aswang. However; he had to take care not to be hit on his rear side when in animal form. That, for an aswang was a fatal blow.
Apolinario’s grandfather died when a hunter stabbed his rear thigh.
Inocencio, his father, knew that if he bit his son’s front legs he would be paralyzed as a human. Yet, he still attacked.
“He is your son. You knew this would happen if you bite his legs.” Dionisia cried.
“I do not care. He is worthless. You should be thanking me, for I spared your son’s life. I should have torn his heart. Killed him. Save us from this argument.”
That night, Apolinario decided to show his father his true worth.
“Mabini?”
Apolinario was rocked back to the present by The General’s voice. He would be an important part of this grand scheme.
“I wanted to to talk to you about last night.” Emilio said.
“I will not apologize. Instead, I offer you something.”
“What is it?” The General asked.
“Freedom. Freedom from your enemies.”
“My enemies are the country’s enemies.”
“Andres Bonifacio is not Inang Bayan’s enemy.”
Emilio Aguinaldo understood. He would be free of Bonifacio’s threat to his plans. Emilio will emerge victorious in this war, and the people would hail him as their leader. But with Bonifacio in the picture, people would most likely default to him.
“I hate that peasant! His people hail him as their leader. He most definitely is not! I am. They should all be praising me!” Emilio could not hide his annoyance.
“And they will, General. With my plan, everything will fall into place for you.”
“How?”
Mabini beckoned the General closer. He whispered something in his ear. Aguinaldo smiled.
“This plan might just work.”The Adviser
July 23, 1864.
Barangay Talaga, Tanauan, Batangas.
A woman’s screams pierced the night’s silence.
Dionisia Maranan never expected this pain. She was no stranger to pain, having endured it every night. But this pain was different.
“Just a little more, Dionisia.” her mother said. “Push.”
A child’s cry echoed in the hills of the forest.
July 22, 1882
11:07 PM
On the eve of his birth, Apolinario prepared for the ritual that was about to take place. He is to come of age, a very important event in the lives of the Mabini Clan.
“Tonight, I will embrace my birthright, inay.”
“Yes, you will, and you will have to pass the test in order to be your father’s heir.” Dionisia said.
Apolinario understood. To be a Mabini, one has to pass a test. One that would challenge even the strongest clan members.
Dionisia led her son into the forest. His father was in the middle of a clearing, waiting for them.
“Prove to me that you are worthy of my throne, my son. Battle me. If you emerge victorious, my crown is yours. Otherwise, you shall be banished from this place.”
“Yes, father.”
Apolinario stared at his father’s naked body. His dark skin, glistening in the moonlight. Inocencio Mabini crouched and prepared to attack. He leapt, and turned into a black dog. His canines dribbling with saliva.
Apolinario was startled. He was not ready for this. He jumped sideways to avoid his father’s claws. Apolinario looked around. Half of the barrio was watching. His mother’s face stood out among them. Her eyes betrayed her fear.
Apolinario kicked his father and slowly backed away. He was watching the black dog intently. He told himself, this is a test. Prove yourself worthy of your blood.
Apolinario’s body shivered. His blood pulsed in his veins. His heart working double time. Adrenaline was filling him now. He crouched, preparing to attack the great black dog. Apolinario leapt into the air and turned into a brown dog. Equally menacing as his father is.
Cries of pain rended the midnight air. Inocencio’s jaws were clamped around Apolinario’s front legs.
A woman’s voice brought him back to reality. “Inocencio!”
Inocencio bit deeper. His son’s blood dribbling on his lips. Suddenly, he let go. Apolinario’s limp body lay on the muddy forest floor.
Inocencio, did not care. His son was not a worthy aswang after all.
“M-mother…I can’t feel my legs.”
March 05, 1896.
Los Baños, Laguna
Emilio Aguinaldo had always wanted to meet Mabini. He heard that Mabini was now giving the revolution his whole hearted support following Rizal’s death a couple of years ago.
I need an adviser – a very good one, he said to himself.
“Silvio. Send message to Mabini. Tell him I want to meet him in Kawit. ”
“Yes, General.”
April 15, 1896
Kawit, Cavite
Aguinaldo sent his men to fetch Apolinario Mabini. He wanted him protected at all times. Supporters of the revolution have an uncanny ability to disappear while en route.
“General. The men have arrived.”
“Tell them I shall be with them in a while, Silvio.”
Emilio Aguinaldo walked towards the drawing room where he instructed his man servant Silvio to conduct his guest.
There was a stunned silence as Emilio stared at the man, that not long ago, he was so eager to see.
Silvio’s lifeless body lay on the floor beside Apolinario Mabini’s hammock.
“Forgive my intrusion, General. I was hungy and I had travelled far. You did not provide me enough men for snacks. I had to keep some of them alive, lest I would be stranded, didn’t I.”
“W-what are you?” the startled General asked.
“I am your greatest assest.” Mabini said, wiping blood on the sleeves of his camisa de chino.
April 16, 1896
Kawit, Cavite
Apolinario sat by the second floor window of the Aguinaldo Mansion. His thoughts adrift.
He could remember his youth in Tanauan. The scent of the hunt. As a human, his legs were paralyzed. A gift his father gave him for his birthday.
But as an aswang, he was murderous. He had the strength of a thousand men. His legs were never a problem.
An aswang’s body is a biological miracle. It would heal any wound inflicted to the aswang. However; he had to take care not to be hit on his rear side when in animal form. That, for an aswang was a fatal blow.
Apolinario’s grandfather died when a hunter stabbed his rear thigh.
Inocencio, his father, knew that if he bit his son’s front legs he would be paralyzed as a human. Yet, he still attacked.
“He is your son. You knew this would happen if you bite his legs.” Dionisia cried.
“I do not care. He is worthless. You should be thanking me, for I spared your son’s life. I should have torn his heart. Killed him. Save us from this argument.”
That night, Apolinario decided to show his father his true worth.
“Mabini?”
Apolinario was rocked back to the present by The General’s voice. He would be an important part of this grand scheme.
“I wanted to to talk to you about last night.” Emilio said.
“I will not apologize. Instead, I offer you something.”
“What is it?” The General asked.
“Freedom. Freedom from your enemies.”
“My enemies are the country’s enemies.”
“Andres Bonifacio is not Inang Bayan’s enemy.”
Emilio Aguinaldo understood. He would be free of Bonifacio’s threat to his plans. Emilio will emerge victorious in this war, and the people would hail him as their leader. But with Bonifacio in the picture, people would most likely default to him.
“I hate that peasant! His people hail him as their leader. He most definitely is not! I am. They should all be praising me!” Emilio could not hide his annoyance.
“And they will, General. With my plan, everything will fall into place for you.”
“How?”
Mabini beckoned the General closer. He whispered something in his ear. Aguinaldo smiled.
“This plan might just work.”
July 15th, 2010 at 11:50
Part Three
The General
January 01, 1895
Cavite El Viejo
The Capitan Municipal paced his office. This
was the night he had been dreaming of for
a long time. From a young age, he knew he
was born to lead.
This position was once his father’s.
Although back in his old man’s days, he was
called gobernadorcillo. Ahhh, time – he said
to himself.
“Capitan Municipal Emilio Aguinaldo” he said,
smiling to himself. “That has a nice ring to
it.”
April 16, 1896
Kawit, Cavite (Formerly known as Cavite El
Viejo)
Emilio Aguinaldo stood transfixed infront of
Apolinario Mabini. The man just told him of
a plan, a plan that would give him so much
power. A plan that would elevate his status
among the people.
“In order for this plan to succeed, you must
send your men to San Juan del Monte.”
There was a letter on the table beside
Mabini. Aguinaldo’s eyes darted from Mabini,
to the open envelope.
“Pardon my prying, General. I was simply
laying groundwork for our plans.”
Emilio understood. Just last week, his
manservant, Silvio handed him an envelope.
It contained a letter from Andres Bonifacio.
SEND MEN TO SAN JUAN del MONTE. WE
WILL ATTACK THE WATER STATION. 30
AUGUST 1896.
Emilio never intended to send men to aid
Bonifacio, yet today, Apolinario was telling
to do so.
“I know of an aswang in San Juan del
Monte’s forests. Mulong is an old aswang.
Reliable. I could talk to him, persuade him
to our cause.” the aswang advisor said.
“How will you travel to San Juan del Monte
undetected?”
“I have my ways. Tonight I will set out to
carry on this plan.”
August 29. 1896
San Juan del Monte
Guillermo Acosta gathered his men at the
foot of the hills. Night was approaching, his
men were tired. The commute from Kawit to
this forest was far and wearisome.
“Meet Mulong at the foot of the hills in San
Juan del Monte. He will lead you to
Bonifacio.” The General said.
Patiently, Acosta and his men waited for
the man who will lead them to the famous
Supremo of the Katipunan.
“How much longer do we have to wait?” one
of his men said. “I hope Bonifacio has tuba.
I’m thirsty.”
“It is unwise to drink before a war, my good
man.” Acosta said. These men were tired,
and alcohol would be a welcome reward for
their travel. Maybe a little wouldn’t hurt, he
thought to himself.
Night has fallen in the forests of San Juan
del Monte. A faint rustling sound came from
the bushes ahead. Acosta surveyed the
area. His eyes watching for the slightest
movement in the leaves.
“Who goes there?” he asked.
“It is I, Mulong.” From the bushes came an
old man. He was smiling to them. “I have
come to deliver you.”
That night, the mossy forest floor took on
the color of blood.
September 10, 1896
Morong, Rizal
Night has fallen in the forests of Morong.
Moonlight casting an ethereal glow to the
trees surrounding the Katipunan’s
headquarters.
The Supremo could not forget the night he
had to slay the aswang who posed as an
albularyo. He could not forget the final
words the dying man uttered.
“Seek The General and his aswang
emissary.”
So it is true, he thought, Aguinaldo has
allied himself with aswangs. And he has
sent them to kill me.
May 05, 1897
Kawit, Cavite
Andres Bonifacio approached the man lying
in a hammock. Slowly, he bent down and
whispered in the sleeping man’s ears.
“I have come, as you instructed.”
The man’s eyes opened. A smile satrted to
form on his face.
“Bonifacio.”
“Mabini.”
May 06, 1987
Kawit, Cavite
Andres Bonifacio told Apolinario Mabini the
reason for his unannounced visit.
“I want to take Aguinaldo by surprise.” he
said. “I want to take him and his emissary
down.”
Mabini looked startled. “Take down his
emissary? But why?” he asked.
“I have met someone who tried to kill me.
That man was sent by Aguinaldo. And he
was no ordinary man.”
“What do you mean?” Mabini asked. His
eyes betraying his fear.
“The man was an aswang. And he was sent
by Aguinaldo to massacre the Katipuneros.”
“Surely, Mulong did not tell you this?”
Mabini asked.
Andres Bonifacio looked at the man in front
of him. Sitting before him was a friend
whom he trusted for so long. Mabini was a
member of the Katipunan. A freemason.
Just like him.
“W-what did you just say?” Bonifacio’s
voice was shaking. “I don’t remember
mentioning the aswang’s name.”
“Surely, you would soon realize, Andres.
There are far more greater causes that this
revolution.” Mabini said. “We have won, the
Kawit Government is in place.”
“But the fight is not yet over.”
“Ahhh, but it is, Andres. The war is over.
Aguinaldo is President. I am his Prime
Minister. With that power, I can create
hoardes of aswangs. An aswang army that
would subdue the human plague.”
“You are insane.” Bonifacio said.
“Ahhh, I prefer the less provocative term.
Genius.”
May 10, 1897
Maragondon, Cavite
Andres Bonifacio and his brother were sent
to this forest. Andres knew what would
happen. The Tejeros Convention labeled
him a rebel. An insurgent. A threat to the
Aguinaldo Administration.
“And that threat to our Government should
be eliminated. Immediately.” he remembered
Don Mariano Trías saying.
“Brother, what is your name?” Bonifacio
asked the leader of the execution party.
“Lazaro. Lazaro Macapagal.”
“Do you know why I am here?” he asked.
“Yes, you are a threat. A threat to Mabini’s
plans.” Lazaro said. “You have been a
liability. I always told Mabini that I could do
the job much better than that Mulong.”
Andres Bonifacio’s heart pounded. The
Tejeros Convention was just a ruse. A
charades of sort. The real reason for his
execution was this.
At the age of 33, Andres Bonifacio died in
the dark and sad forests of Maragindon,
Cavite. His mutilated remains were never
found.
July 15th, 2010 at 12:58
irvin mclovin: Yes, you can have your friend claim the book for you as long as he knows your username and the email you used to register here.
July 16th, 2010 at 00:53
#7johnbristol6: Brilliant piece!
Hi Jessica. I want to thank you for a lovely dinner at La Cuisine Francaise, made possible by your Consomme Celestine contest two weeks ago. I called to change the date of my visit, thus the soup itself (which apparently requires time to prepare) was not available at the time my friend and I dined there. In its stead, I was offered my choice of soup and main course from the regular menu. I picked the bouillabaise (as contest prize). The escargot and salmon terrine looked promising so we ordered those too, plus chocolate souffle and take-out chicken with pistachio pate. It was a quiet Saturday night; we thoroughly enjoyed the food and relaxed feel of the place. We told the very nice staff to convey to the owners our thanks.