So, I haven't been updating in a while, eh? This is the solution to your waiting. I'm sorry if I made you wait. Then, here is your reward. You know the disclaimer. And to Kairi's-twin, yes, aswangs are also other kinds of vampires.
Chapter 4: Around the Flickering Oil Lamp
Cayetana's room…after dinner, after bathing, after dressing, after packing…
"Have you closed all your doors and windows?" Cayetana asked, sealing her bag filled with various weapons and closing her windows. "Yes, yes of course!" the friar Bartholomew said. "Are you sure you brought all the weapons you need?" she asked. "Nothing is missing. Everything's alright." Felipe said, almost stunned by how spacious the equestrienne's room was.
"Felipe, Bartholomew, take one of these." Cayetana said, her wavy black hair following the turning of her head. She held three swords crafted out of buntot pagi, steel and obsidian. The two strapped the swords onto their belts. "Cayetana, are you sure we can find them at night?" "Yes, we can. Let's go." she said.
The trio held flaming torches in their hands as they rode the steeds of the de Agoncillo clan. They set off into the dark forest, braving the chilly air of death.
In the forest…
"Can we turn back now? I really don't like it here! Mosquitoes are swarming around me!" the friar said. "No!" Felipe and Cayetana chorused. She raised her torch, looking for anything in the jungle that would be a threat to them. Felipe and Bart rode next to her, embarrassed that she was even braver than they were.
"Are we there yet?" Felipe asked. "Yes, we're near. Be quiet. I think they're still there." Cayetana said, seeing a one-storey hut in the distance. After a few more minutes, they dismounted and tied their horses to a nearby yet hidden acacia tree.
Cayetana drew out her sword and walked towards the humble hut. It was lighted by an oil lamp, and she was sure that someone could be inside. Bartholomew was uttering prayers by the horses. Felipe was close by; scanning the area with his eyes to make sure the area was clear.
She banged the door and it swung open. The place was empty. Nothing was there except the burning oil lamp. "Bartholomew, Felipe, scour the house. We might find something important here." The two men nodded and started searching.
Bartholomew opened the cupboard. He was greeted by dust and cobwebs. All he saw were clay pots and a lone spider crawling on them. He closed the cupboard. Little did he know that those clay pots contained the livers of the manananggals' victims.
Felipe opened the crude cabinets in the empty and dark bedroom. He suddenly saw a few pillow-like objects fall. "I wonder what this is." He said. He opened the small window in the bedroom, letting the light of the moon shine upon the room. He examined the objects that fell from the cabinet.
"God have mercy on me! What are severed lower halves doing here in this cabinet?" the handsome knight exclaimed. Cayetana and Bartholomew came to the scene quickly. "Oh my!" the friar said, clutching his stomach. "Excuse me, but I think I need to vomit." Bartholomew said, rushing outside the house.
"These lower halves belong to the sisters." Cayetana said, brows knitted, "How does it happen?" Felipe asked. "At sundown, their bodies will separate. When that happens, they will grow fangs and bat wings and they shall fly to look for flesh and livers." She answered as Bartholomew entered the room.
The friar, disgusted, looked upon the bloody parts and grimaced. "How do we defeat them?" Bart asked. "Usually, spraying vinegar, garlic or hot peppers and sometimes, salt will do for regular manananggals. In spite of our efforts, we cannot kill them. They would be irritated by these things but they'll recover faster than the bullets shot by the guardia civil." Cayetana said.
"Isn't there any legend or any story passed down?" Felipe said, bewildered. "Well, there is one story…and it was our cura paroko who shared this with me. The kind old cleric always told me stories and news especially when he came back from Manila. He taught me how to be fluent in Latin and Spanish too…" she said.
"Go on; tell us how the story went." Bartholomew said. "We'd better put the lower halves back in the cabinet before I tell you these things. Close the door and the windows." The aristocratic belle said. So they cleaned up their "mess" and shut all windows and doors. Not even the vampires could discover their doing.
They sat on the papag (floor, usually made of bamboo), with only a flickering oil lamp for light. They sat closely beside each other, afraid of what could be outside the safety of the hut. What an irony! They find themselves safe in the house of an enemy! Cayetana started to speak as the lamp suddenly grew brighter.
"Father Marquez-Villalobos came from a priests' convention in Manila and he heard this story from one of the bishops. The bishop said that when he was just a lad, a soldier in the Spanish navy, named Francisco de Lopez y Zamora…" she was cut off in mid-sentence by Felipe. "That's…that's my dead grandfather!" "Sssh!" Bart said. "Oh, sorry." Felipe said.
"This soldier had a dagger. Its handle was made of obsidian, inset with precious stones. It had a sharp, curved blade forged with silver and steel. The scabbard was made of tough and shiny obsidian, also inset with precious stones. The Pope gave it to him when he was just a baby. The Pope himself blessed it. The baby became a general in the army. He defeated many armies and he was once tasked with killing a manananggal in one of the most distant villages here. Using that dagger, he killed the manananggal with a strike filled with courage and faith. The vampire died instantly and it never came back. The general went back to Spain and spent the remainder of his long life there." Cayetana said.
"It must be a beautiful dagger." Bartholomew said. "I remember my grandfather giving me a dagger. It's as beautiful as Heaven." Felipe said. He took a shining blade from his pocket, protected by a glassy obsidian sheath.
He unsheathed it and held it by the lamp. The scabbard and the dagger itself matched Cayetana's description perfectly. The blade was well-maintained. Nobody would have known that it was more than 50 years old.
"I guess we have to go home. We don't have much information and the night is becoming deeper and deeper. We wouldn't want to bump into any of them tonight." Bartholomew said. "I agree with you." Felipe said. Cayetana gave a small yawn in agreement. The knight sheathed his dagger and pocketed it.
Suddenly, they heard deafening screeches coming by. "The manananggals are coming! Quick, put the lamp back and hide!" Cayetana said, tapping Bartholomew quickly. They scurried off to place everything in the right place.
"Where do we hide?" Felipe said. "Jump out of the window!" Cayetana said, as the men couldn't do anything but follow her. They jumped out of the window and hid by crawling under rosal (a kind of flower) bushes and stooping behind the thick foliage and tall ferns.
Hidden by the forest, which seemed to be on their side, they saw the heartless heathen drag severed parts of an old woman. Cayetana saw the neck of the victim. It was a gold necklace with a cameo. The cameo was encircled by pearls and diamonds, Aunt Teresa's favorite gems. She was about to scream but Felipe covered her mouth as she began to cry.
She buried herself into Felipe's shoulder. Bartholomew held her shoulder, saying, "We cannot do anything else, Cayetana, no, nothing more. We're sorry." The friar admonished.
"No, I don't blame you both. I blame myself. Now that I don't have anyone else in the world, no other relative, I can die now. I'm useless. I can't even protect my own aunt." She said.
"You didn't want it to happen…" Felipe replied. "I abhor these three more than you will ever understand. They took all my close relations from me. I have no one left." Cayetana said, almost shrieking. Afterwards, there was a deafening silence. The knight held the woman's cross necklace in his hand. "Don't lose faith." He said, embracing her. Bartholomew joined in the embrace.
"We have to go now. If we stay any longer, they'll find us." Bartholomew said. They stood up from the ground and quietly unhitched their horses. They went back to the house, at an unholy hour.
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