TRES - CHAPTER FOUR - PIERCING THE STORY

The door was opened, it slammed at the thin wall with a resounding thud, the frail hut shuddered as if it too felt the fear that was suddenly a palpable feeling shared by those inside.

A girl, perhaps younger than Anrhu stumbled inside, the color of her torn shirt unrecognizable by the stain of blood; it was gushing from an obvious wound on her neck, her short hair plastered to her skin. Though wounded, she was a figure of strength, like some heroin from some action-adventure movie; obviously a fighter despite her slender frame and her evident youth. She was struggling to stay conscious though, her eyes almost dilated. Behind her, helping her up, was a curious figure that almost sent the boy flying in terror.

It was a man. A giant. Much bigger than Labaw Donggon was and covered with a thick crop of black curling hair where the skin was exposed from the waist up. He – it, wore a sort of leather pants that showed the massively muscled legs that it had, it’s bare arms bulged with thickly veined muscles.

The boy’s companions moved to assist the new arrivals. It was apparent that these two were some more of those friends that they mentioned earlier. Such a weird group but then he was beginning to accept that nothing was ordinary anymore. Somehow, it has become apparent that things were never the same from what he remembered. Zoriah took the girl’s head into her lap, not minding the flow of blood that stained her already dirty pants.

He inched further away from the gigantic man, not really trusting someone – something that he did not understand.

“What happened?” Zoriah inquired. Hastily looking towards Labaw who was peeking through the cracks on the door to peer at the darkness outside, worry clearly evident in her eyes.

“We were attacked near the trees,” came the gruff reply from the man beast. It’s voice rolling from its throat like thunder.

“What attacked you?” Labaw asked, the tail weapon and the dagger gripped within his fingers. Beads of sweat trailing from his face down towards his now drenched shirt.

“Manananggal. There were three of them out there; Beatrice took out one, that’s how one of them tore at her neck with its claws. That, the one that got her, cannot fly again. And the two others have no bodies to go back too,” came the reply. A look, clearly that of concern washed over the face of the huge man, very different from what the boy would have expected.

“You found the halves of their bodies?” inquired the pregnant woman.

“Yes. Near the center of the woods. It’s a good thing Beatrice brought the salt.”

A soft moan escaped the lips of the fallen girl who was lying on the floor beside Zoriah, the latter was holding a piece of cloth already soaked with blood.

“Will she be alright?” Labaw Donggon asked.

“It’s too early to tell,” came the reply. “But this wound is shallow enough; it’s just the blood that makes it look worse.”

Everyone became silent as they watched the unconscious girl. Her breathing slow, deep and regular; evidence that she was in the mend.

The boy looked from one face to the other before it settled to the anxious face of the hairy one. Something clicked in his mind, the mention of creatures coming to life from stories, the smell of smoke and the hair that seemed to cover every inch of the monstrous skin. He gawked, his eyes bulging as his breathing grew thick in his throat when he realized what he was looking at.

“Kap…kapre,” he sputtered, his eyes wide and filled with incredulity as he looked at the giant.
“He is a kapre?,” pointing towards the beast that was only beginning to notice him.

The room became silent, the sudden tension so thick that they could have lain the unconscious girl on it and she would have floated. There was a pause that sent everyone in the room to look at Anrhu as if they only remembered his attendance; the hairy creature intently looking at the boy that was staring at him in trembling fear.

The couple observing both their ally and the boy that they welcomed into their shelter.

“Bulagao,” the kapre said after a while, extending fingers tipped with black curving claws towards the boy, a grin spread his huge mouth open with a display of an array of short yet sharp edged teeth.

"Bulagao at your service,” humor and goodwill clearly evident behind the crusty welcome. “And you smell like dog piss!”

Anrhu’s breath got caught in his throat and everything went black.

The strong smell of ammonia pinched his nose and brought him back into wakefulness.

For a moment, he was disoriented and confused. From the blurriness, a female face appeared as it peered into his eyes mere inches from where he was lying on a soft surface, in her hands he saw that she was holding a small bottle of the strong smelling liquid.

From somewhere near, he could hear male voices whispering loudly in serious discussion. He could feel that his shoulders were tight, probably bruised from a fall that he was just beginning to remember.

“He is awake,” the woman – Zoriah, he remembered. The sound of a wooden table being pushed and the sound of approaching feet told him that somebody was coming nearer.

“Are you alright?” Anrhu looked up and saw the anxious face of the woman’s husband, Labaw Donggon. Zoriah went out of the room.

He nodded, looking behind his visitor’s back to see if someone else was there.

“Bulagao is outside, don’t worry about him,” Labaw Donggon assured him. “He is an ally, even if he is a kapre.”

Meekly, the boy just stared.

“You have been unconscious for a bit. You must be hungry,” the man did not question but stated the obvious, taking a plate of food from a table beside the bed. At the mention of food, Anrhu felt his stomach tighten and realized that he was famished; he could not really say when the last time he ate was. He struggled to sit and rested his aching back and head on the wall behind him, took the pro-offered plate which had a piece of meat and some rice and forced a large portion into his mouth.

“Slowly, everything there, is for you,” Zoriah intoned, coming in with a tall glass of water which she placed on the table where the plate came from. She sat beside the boy and watched; her husband watching, mute.

He ate in silence. In his hunger, he was oblivious to the stare of the couple, neither did he notice that the kapre came into the room and was watching him with faintly glowing eyes that was friendly.

In minutes all trace of food was gone.

He barely finished the glass of water when he felt his eyelids droop, heavy and wanting to close. With food in his stomach, he felt the assault of tiredness. Weak and weary, he gave in and for the second time that night, he fell into warm darkness.

He woke sometime in the middle of the night, it was dark but he could hear the faint snores that told him that he was with people he could trust; people that took care of him even when things are unclear. Sleep took him back and he let the warmth settle. In moments, his snore echoed with everybody else’s.