[Capítulo Veinteuno: Katapusan (End)]
A coarse sack enveloped us, shrouding our vision as we marched into the obscure abyss. Amid the eerie journey, the air echoed with unfamiliar laments from unknown women and subdued murmurs.
The sack lifted, unveiling a clandestine gathering. Marianne's hushed voice emerged, painting hope in the shadows. Her smile, a beacon amidst the darkness, revealed a resolve hardened by the impending revolution. "Tomorrow, the first-ever revolution of the Filipino people will occur. We will be avenged."
Aligned in a somber procession, suspected Katipunan members like myself awaited our fate. Tied hands found solace in the grip of vigilant soldiers. Ahead, the chair of death awaited each man in turn, promising a swift demise.
A voice echoed, "Mabuhay ang Katipunan (Long live the Katipunan)!" His final words preceded the garrote's embrace, yet an undeniable joy lingered, a testament to a life willingly sacrificed for the homeland.
As the queue inched forward, I pondered my place in this struggle. The homeland was his sanctuary; he, in turn, bestowed upon it the ultimate sacrifice. I questioned where my allegiance lay, where my ‘home’ awaited.
The line progressed, each man before me succumbing to an agonizing demise. "Marianne," I whispered before our inevitable turn.
Her tear-drenched eyes met mine, eyebrows arched in contemplation. Words couldn't escape in Spanish, guarded by watchful soldiers. Yet, in the tongue of careful whispers, English became the conduit, navigating the delicate balance of expressing without betraying the clandestine cause.
“Marianne, look! I know you are mad at me. You have every right to do so,” I calmly acknowledged, searching for a connection amidst the tension.
“Cállate, Indio (Shut up, Indio)!” The soldier's grip on my hand tightened, attempting to whisk me away from Marianne, his stern command cutting through the air. "Estúpido (Stupid)!"
She maintained an unbroken silence, but within that quietude, I forged a plan. As we marched towards an inevitable demise, my mind orchestrated the symphony of the right course of action.
The heroism emanating from Filipinos yearning for freedom thawed my dormant, frigid heart. "No more running," I declared, a defiant grin carving its way onto my lips.
A surge of bravery coursed through my soul. "Marianne, when I signal 'Go!'," I instructed, the urgency painting my words, "blend into the crowd, run as if freedom itself awaits you, and don't look back!"
My plan, though uncertain, offered a sliver of hope amid impending peril. I confronted the reality of potential death, yet the solace of knowing I wouldn't succumb without a struggle for freedom comforted my uneasy heart.
Assessing the dwindling numbers of men in our imminent line of execution—merely two remained—I seized the opportune moment to set my plan into motion. Time became a precious commodity, and I couldn't afford further delay.
In the ominous procession, only one soldier shadowed us, others stationed on the frontline, vigilant against any escape attempts.
“Get ready!” I uttered, the tension in the air crackling as the soldier, once more, positioned himself beside me.
“Sinabi nang manahimik ka (I said shut up)!” he commanded. "Hijo de p*t* 「Swear word」!"
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Past In The Spotlight (SUNSET TRILOGY #1)
Historical FictionIn the midst of filming in the Philippines, Korean actor Lee Jong Hee and Filipino actress Marianne de Guzman find themselves thrust into an unexpected turn of events on New Year's Eve. Fate, concealed by the lens of a mysterious camera, catapults t...
