Church of The Damned [Short Story]

VLOG DAY 12

                      Dylan never went back to the church, Candidah and Madison were traumatized. It was up to the four of us to finish the documentary. For a week, we have driven ourselves with fear. We spent day and nights inside the office, and many phone calls of our group members asking how they've been. Eric and I set up the cameras to the perfect angle of Charlotte Dela Rosa, who will be the face of our report. The moment we started recording, Angelica Santiago slammed the door to the staircase shut. Her aura looks different, her eyes became restless and dead; her hair turned messy and she turned expressionless. In a blink of an eye, when she looks at you she looks like somebody else and not the young and social Angelica we know. We turn silent as we look towards her strange behavior.

Her eyes rolled upward, and stumbled on the nearby pew. Angelica was hardly breathing and she made hissing sounds. She smiled at us, giggling as she stared at the camera and then looked at her palm as if evil spirits have enforced her. Every look of hers resembles someone from the night before, but I couldn't seem to figure out who it could be. "Donya Maria Fabia Gervase, the bride of the Sta. Ana killings." Eric said in shock, and Angelica turned to him like she's heard that name before. Angelica's body fades into a bloody bride, staring at the three of us with her restless eyes. She charged at Eric, but I stopped her just in time. She suddenly turned strong from what I can remember, and her strength almost overtook mine. Angelica – or the bride – tried to push me but my rosary gives her weakness. Outraged, she managed to grab a glass shard and attempted to slit my throat – luckily that didn't happen, but it was unfortunate for my mother's powerful heirloom.

My eyes water in sadness and anger when I saw its beads drop beside my feet. What will my mother think when she saw the heirloom my grandmother gave her, which she is very wary about, broke into pieces? I could feel my eyes watering and my fists started to clench, but why would I bother getting angry at an object? Even I can't understand my own thoughts, as if my innocence started to fade. Angelica's true self comes back, but making my vision blur and my temperature go low. That made Eric react quickly, "Anna, Anna? No, no, please don't take her too!" He begs, I hear the door creak slowly but I never saw who entered. "Anyone but you, please I – I couldn't bear seeing you as an evil being, I couldn't bear – not seeing you in that sweet smile of yours. Please." There was a genuine hint of concern in his eyes, but anger seemed to blind me with flashes of possibilities of my mother's disappointment. I felt incapable of controlling myself, and nothing but feeling – revenge. I wanted to see this woman suffer and strangle her.

Dylan sprung into action and used his bible to bring Angelica back to normal, including me. It just occurred to me that I have lost control of myself, told myself I wanted to strangle her and many other cruel things. It made me realise, how ghosts can be so powerful to play with your emotions like it's a cat playing with ball of yarn. Angelica cried and hugged me, "I'm so sorry, Anna, I'm so sorry." She pleads, and I couldn't do anything other than cry. I didn't know why, I never did anything to her just yet. Is it by hearing Eric's cry, or being guilty for thinking cruel thoughts about her?