Sitio Maravillas

Just a Stranger (Si Astrid / Muling Pagkikita ni Manuel at Giselle)

Circa 2022
Sitio Maravillas
Pueblo Carcel

On the other hand, unknown to the world is a wonder at the heart of the forest of the infamous Sitio Maravillas. On the outside, it looks like any other greenery, a piece of land untouched by urbanization where the trees are taller and the grasses overflow with flowers, nature at its prime. But going deeper, the scenery goes darker, wilder, scarier - the branches twisting into tangles of mess, the fog thick, the air cold and misty as though a strange harrowing presence full of grief and wrath, thirsty for revenge.

As the clock struck at the hour of 6:00 PM, when the sun has gone down and the skies turned deep blue, a mysterious woman of tall stature stepped into the bounds of Sitio Maravillas.

She was a vibrant, young, and beautiful lady, her raven black hair folded into slightly tight-coiled spiral curls falling flawlessly down up to her back. Her eyes were glowing grey with a hint of maroon streaks as though she hasn't reached the peak of her metamorphosis, and her lips mauve plum.

Alas, her beauty was concealed by a black mask laced with ombre red and gold engraves, and the symbol at the center, a flame within the sun, perhaps the sigil of her faction? She wore a sleeveless v-neck bloody red undergarment that was tucked in a leather black corset so the bottom part of the undergarment overflowed, appearing like a skirt. It complemented her leather black jacket and pants. Her red robe hooded over her hair, further giving her a mysterious vibe, but what made her even more mystical was her aura, as she trudged her boots along the stony steps toward her destination - a house at the heart of the forest.

The house was old, abandoned, broken and covered in fog; some wooden planks scattered as vines grew everywhere, spreading like wildfire. It had an eerie atmosphere about it, one that would surely cause goosebumps. As she approached closer and closer, the winds blew harder, the forest wailed with howls of disapproval, and the cries of an infant grew louder and louder.

Isa...

Uwaah!

But she did not falter, nor flinch. There was no fear in her eyes, only the stance of a warrior. Instead, she took a step further on the balcony, each step creating a squeak. As if warning her not to proceed, the forest breezed harder, thunder rumbled, lightning began to appear, and the infant cried harder, almost rendering her deaf. Still, she was not fazed.

Dalawa...

Uwaah! Uwaah!!

Her hand began to twist the cold tarnished knob, and the door slowly opened, creaking as it did. The conditions grew harsher and harsher, and unknown to her, the forest began talking, the vines that hugged the cottage began to have a life of its own, crawling to try and stop the warrior from invading a sacred place. Still, she did not care.

Tatlo...

Uwaah! Uwaah!! Uwaah!!!

And there it was inside the abandoned cottage, a woman in late teenage years sitting on a swivel chair facing against the door amongst the clatter and ruin that is the interior of the abode.

The young woman was pale, covered in blood, her hair was long wavy brown, she was wearing a white sleeping gown with stains of blood splatter on it and she glowed white. She slowly turned towards the door, and meeting eye to eye with the warrior. Her face was beautiful, but it was dead, and she had a long scar across her face, and red flowed through her chest, as though someone slashed a dagger on her face and stabbed her heart with it. She was ice cold.

Was she a ghost? Yes. Yes, she is.

But the warrior feared not. She removed her hood, exposing her identity.