Unlike most of my relatives, I was born in a populated, metropolitan environment of Manila. Even as a young child, I was never truly able to grasp the urban legends I occasionally hear from the older people who grew up in the rural parts of the Philippines. Thus, it was difficult to deem whether or not what they constantly whisper about behind the counters were in fact real or just old wives tales to warn kids. According to my lola (grandma), our country was part of a lost civilization who practiced dark magic, and that includes shape-shifting, voodooism, etc. and it lead to the development of various superstitions to counter these mythical creatures of the dark or warn us of an impending fate. Tikbalang, mananangal, aswang—I mean, seriously, if you are mature and wise enough to distinguish reality from such elusive fairy tales, how can you possibly believe in this nonsense? Okay, maybe I sort of believed it a little, however, my doubts were completely overturned when I personally encountered one:

I was invited by a friend of mines to visit a certain province whose name I shall refrain from saying as it could downgrade the reputation of that place. The air we breathe was free from the toxic pollutions of the city. Every where my eyes set upon the beauty of mother nature and its citizens lives a humble life of seclusion from the noises of busy streets which I have grown accustomed to. There were vast, acres of crops and farmers diligently herding their bulls. The silent tranquility was the perfect condition for the unknown to dwell, especially at night. Those who are familiar with the place would know better than to wander off along the eerie roads that doesn’t have any street lights. But not us: We were new, oblivious to the culture, the rules and history of the area.
I was walking with my five companions towards a former school ground because that was the only place that has a basketball court. Half way there, we passed by an old woman wearing a seemingly disturbing black dress, like the ones I’d see old women wear in funerals. She stopped on our tracks and observed each of our faces until her piercing eyes landed on Tessa, a short girl who I just came to know a few hours ago. She first asked us where we’re heading. Out of respect for the elderly, of course, Angelo took the chance to answer her. But the next words she uttered strike me the most: “I advise you to turn around and head back,” still staring at Tessa, she continued, “Or else…someone might ‘trip’.” Then she went her way and disappeared into the night, leaving the rest of us bewildered, alone, and the girls were frightened.
Nonetheless, Jeremiah, Tessa’s boyfriend, wasn’t at all affected and convinced us to proceed with our journey. No sooner have we arrived at our destination, the guys immediately began playing basketball while the girls sat down on a nearby bench. The thing about that abandoned school house was that it was surrounded by an iron gate that was rotten and has comfortably wrapped itself in a forest of weeds. The campus was large enough for a basketball court and the former school looked like any other houses in the province, except that it was more dilapidated from age and lack of occupation. Much of the debris were rusted brown and every so often you could hear the faint howls of dogs or nocturnal creatures that thrive within that ideal habitat. I would have never imagined that a creature other than those in this world could still dwell under the dark promises of a peaceful countryside. Especially one that continues to uphold the traditions of our ancestors no longer inscribed in history.
Hence, I sat beside the other two girls as they chat while I busy myself with music. It was calm and quiet; too quiet until I heard a screeching noise like fingernails running across the surface of a blackboard. At first I ignored it, thinking that a cat must be at a close proximity, but the noise grew rather disturbing and I had to take off my headphones.
“Do you guys hear that?” I ask. Even the guys stopped playing and listened as well. I followed the sound and for a second thought that it was coming underneath the bench we were sitting on until a distant cry of a baby all of a sudden broke through the silent night. It was as if we have trespassed through a reserved territory, and I almost believed the very earth I stood upon could split at any moment and allow the disturbed apparitions access to the source of the commotion. My heart pounded and I was beginning to tremble. Suddenly, I felt cold. The six of us deliberately came together but then I thought I saw another odd, red thing out of the corner of my eyes, flying over us like a ball-shaped figure but it was way too fast for my eyes to acknowledge it clearly enough. Thankfully, I wasn’t the only one who noticed the flying object as my friend asked Angelo if that was their ball that just so happened to be thrown in the air. Angelo gave us a confused look and held their ball up. My fears amplified. If he has the ball all along, then what the heck was that thing that just soared over our heads? A bird?
The crying abruptly stopped but was replaced by something worse: a cat-like growl, but it stopped again for a split second. Now we’re on our feet and about to run to the gates, yet the red object appeared again in front of us one yard away. I could scarcely remember its actual appearance because I flickered my eyes on its direction for a second and unconsciously revert them elsewhere because what I saw, or think I saw, was too grotesque, repelling. The very notion that such beings could still be in existence was even more horrifying. With proper recollection, I am now able to discern it: The red object was actually shaped as a small body with a huge, round head, and where its eyes were supposed to be was dark and so shallow it appeared to swallow any light that dare attempt itself near. Afterwards, it was gone in a blur just as fast as it had appeared; hence we took that opportunity to dash away from that horrid place.
The once peaceful night was shattered by the scurry of footsteps and we were present, a bunch of cowards literally running for our lives, caring less about the welfare of others, only following the strong emotion currently surging through our entire system like an avalanche. I could care less about my slippers and ran bear-footed. Behind us, we heard a laugh, so inhumane, so sinister; it was beyond my abilities to describe it in words.
I thought my heart could break through my ribcage at any given moment along with the speed rate of adrenaline gushing throughout my body. I wasn’t even tired. Our group only stopped once we were at a proper distance away from that evil being that was probably not from this world. Suddenly, I was startled by Jeremiah’s shriek. That’s when it hit me: one of us was missing.
“TESSA!!!” He screamed his lover’s name at the top of his lungs, and I could only flinch every time he did so. “TESSA!” He let out another blood-curling scream and, “I was holding her hands! She was just with me all long!! Oh Tessa…TESSA!!!”
If there’s one thing I learned from that unnatural experience of a lifetime was that it was the most unpleasant, terrifying night I will always remember and will haunt me for the rest of my life.
Afterwards, we had no other choice but return home and inform the adults of the news. The old woman who cautioned us before was never to be seen again, as if she had just vanished to whatever dimension she came from. It would be stupid to go back to that abandoned school house to investigate, and we feared for the worse as we are now aware of that blooded monster still lingering somewhere nearby.
Although glad that my life was spared, I was traumatized for months. If it weren’t for my family, I would still see the cold, black eyes of the creature distorted on the faces of the crowd. I’d see it again behind me at night as I stare in the mirror, and suffer from the illusions of it pouncing towards me and doing the same unimaginable deeds it had done to my friend. I also couldn’t help but think of other possibilities: What if I had trip and sprained my ankle that night like what the old woman prophesized. After all, I am a clumsy person and I doubt my companions would have enough time to help me up in that urgent situation. But, I heard Jeremiah went through worse consequences. During our interrogation with the local officials, he could only bury his face in his hands and stayed like that throughout the rest of the examination. No matter what they asked him, or what his family said, he only whispered one thing in a dreaded, scared voice, “She was just in my hands…red person…she was just in my hands…red person…”
Upon recuperation, I made several attempts to reveal this experience to other people but how could anyone take me seriously? The police later found Tessa’s corpse near a swamp. She was pale and drained of blood. The only visible red liquid left in her body was found on her private area. They tried to convince us that our friend died by accident; that we have hallucinated everything. Although I was also half uncertain if it was all even happening, I know what I saw! My other companions can testify, but they were too horrified to recall it and chose to forget it ever happened. I could tell the local police knew something, but they also chose to close the case.
I could only wonder who or what it was that attacked us that one fateful night. How did it come into being? What was its purpose? According from tradition; from the ancient stories my grandparents tell me, they call these monsters “Tiyanak”, baby demons who died without being baptized or was once an innocent baby; a fetus who was aborted long ago by its mother. Now its remains and spirit has relied itself to the dark, waiting to cast its revenge upon the next set of wanderers and bury itself in the womb of a female victim in hope to feel the life that was stolen from it.
Modern society has forgotten the principles and spiritual teachings of the old. It’s difficult for the new generation to believe in the things they cannot see, things that are profound and inexplicable. Faith that was once the primary focus of the majority has been buried and eroded over the ages. Only a few scattered villages still uphold to such beliefs, which somehow managed to survive through time in the form of folklores. Although I can never provide solid evidences to prove the reality of this story, I know for certain of the possible existence of supernatural phenomenon occurring anywhere else. There are multitudes of witnesses who told similar incidents that goes beyond the comprehension of intellectual advancements of today, thus the likelihood that, in this mysterious, corrupted world, walking to school, showering, going through the everyday norm, we’d be naïve to think that we are alone because, perhaps…
…someone’s always been there watching you.