Manila by Midnight

Graveyard shifts scare Cara, but Manila at dark scares her more.

Ever since moving to her aunt's residence in the city as part of her "Operation Career Change," she had been struggling to  love her new life. While her paycheck as a call center language trainer was double the salary of a small town teacher, she missed her simple life.

Or if she would be totally honest with herself, she missed feeling safe.

"Always bring a packet of salt with you. They'll drive away aswangs and other malignant spirits."

Her Tita Maring was younger than her mother by a decade, but when it came to traditions and superstitions, she was the expert, and not a day went by when she did not remind Cara of "precautionary measures."

The dark tales did not alarm her at first, dissing them as the product of people's fears or their desires to oppress. But as she would discover through the hushed whispers in the neighborhood, sightings of extraordinarily huge beasts and remnants of entrails from God-knows-what were too real for her to ignore and simply shelve as "kids' stuff".

"I'll be fine, Tita. It's not like I haven't been out and about at night."

Still, she pocketed the salt packet and felt it every now and then, as if she could summon its powers of protection by mere touch.

It was her second month at the company, yet her probationary status had recently been lifted. Determined to make an even better impression, she had decided to do some power dressing for a change. Her teal blazer looked chic on top of her white blouse and blue slacks, and her pumps' heels made a soft "tac tac" sound on the concrete.

"Uy! Big night? You look like a total babe!"

Cara whirled around to see their neighbor, Heidi, who had recently passed the bar. Petite and stylish, she was one of the first people to strike up a conversation with Cara. After learning that she lived alone and had no relative left to care for, she did not hesitate one bit to be friends with her.

"Nah," she sheepishly replied. "Just wanted to celebrate a small win."

"What's up? Have you been promoted at work?"

"Sort of," Cara replied. "Not a proby anymore."

Heidi flashed a sweet smile. "Wow, that's something. What did Tita Maring say?"

"The usual. Be careful out there. There are aswangs lurking, blah blah..." Cara shook her head, laughing.

Heidi joined in the laughter, too, and descended down the stairs of her patio. "Tita Maring's a character, no? Quiet. Unassuming. But when it comes to the supernatural, she's formidable. I bet you have that salt packet with you. She used to give me one until I declined. Politely, of course."

"Oh?" Cara's brow shot up. "Did you find it offensive? She could be too much sometimes."

"It's a long story. Why don't I walk you to the main street and I'll tell you everything."

**

The air was humid, something that could be expected in the city even in supposedly chilly October. Sweat trickled down Cara's nape as she fanned herself with her hand. She felt a little more self-conscious with the salt in her pocket, and wondered how funny that must look to Heidi.

"As I was saying, Tita Maring gave me salt packets, cloves of garlic—the whole anti-aswang shebang—to the point that I looked like a walking adobo dish."

Cara snorted at this, but Heidi merely carried on.

"One day I gathered the courage to finally tell her that the gesture makes me uncomfortable. It's sweet, but it's really unnecessary."

"Unnecessary?" Cara asked, curious. "Aren't you afraid of aswangs? I mean, there were eyewitness accounts."

Heidi scoffed. "That's a bunch of hearsay. Plain old chismis. Or maybe they saw a stray dog scavenging for food. I've been here for years. No shapeshifters sighted. Ever."

"And manananggals?"

"Are you kidding me?" Heidi stared at her incredulously. "Flying batshit crazies are the fault of those campy horror films."

Cara considered her argument for a second. Without warning, she felt a bit embarrassed. To hear a smart, thirty-something professional debunk myths—her aunt's myths!—was like being schooled by a teacher on why the earth was round!

Ironic, she thought.

"Oh by the way, I've been meaning to ask you for a critique of my special dinuguan recipe. You almost finished two servings! It's that good, huh?"

"One hundred percent. Not a fan of anything with innards but your dish was something."

"Swear?" Heidi smiled again, this time baring yellowing teeth, which Cara found a bit odd.

Was it a trick of light? She couldn't be sure.

"Y-yup. Did you throw in a secret ingredient?"

"Of course. All cooks have their magic ingredients. Spices, laurel leaves, innards...chopped torsos..."

The hairs on Cara's arms stood on their end all of a sudden, like spider senses giving her an alert signal. She knew something was not right, especially when the moon cast an eerie glow on the deserted street. She wanted to hit Heidi right then and there for spooking her, yet she seemed to be glued to where she was standing.

"You know what, I better call a cab," she said as she fished the salt packet from her pocket. She dared not look at Heidi, dared not think of what she was, or what she could be.

"You know what, don't."

Cara's hand stopped moving.

A guttural voice spoke, as if its source had come from the bowels of the earth.

"Ssshh. I'll make this quick."

Graveyard shifts scare Cara, but her blood-curdling screams that night terrified every living soul in the neighborhood.