"4 Rent..."

The bus trip to Baguio was awfully long and uneventful. I closed my eyes for the Nth time and tried to take a nap, but sleep eluded me.

I amused myself with games on my cellphone awhile back, but the battery got drained so now I'm stuck with just my i-pod.

Working for the top advertising agency in the country has its perks... but being sent to scout for a location in Baguio on such short notice is definitely not one of them.

Manila was still my city, and being sent here on a day and a half's notice had me feeling like a fish out of water.

As we crawled to a stop at the bus station, I saw tons of taxis lined-up one after the other waiting for passengers. People were busy loading their cargos on waiting vehicles. Some had happy faces, glad to be home... others just impatient to get home.

As I was stepping out of the bus, a boy of about seven or eight years old approached me with a sign that read: "House/Apartment/Room 4 Rent.

Being tired and unfamiliar with the place, I hurriedly asked him where the place was. He immediately produced a photocopied sketch of a map, and told me to give it to any of the cab drivers, and they'd know where it's at. He then shook my hand and smiled saying his name was Abel.

"Enjoy your stay." He said, and a sudden gust of cold wind swept over me, but then again this is Baguio... cold wind is nothing new here.

I got to the address a little over ten in the evening. I had to stop over downtown to get dinner at one of the popular burger branches there.

This was the only apartment not yet taken. The landlady simply gave me the key and told me to feel at home. She looked at me in a funny way when I told her that it was Abel who gave me the sketch.  She didn't even accompany me down the flight of steps where I was to stay. She simply pointed me to the direction, and then closed the door as I was about to hand her my initial payment.

People of Baguio are so funny, I thought. If this were Manila, the landlady would've taken my payment first before giving me the key.

The flight of steps had no light for illumination other than the moonlight. Shadows danced over my eyes, flittered, changed shapes, and was gone. For a minute I could've sworn I saw a woman, lying on the pavement, but then the cold wind blew and the shadow was whisked away.

I inserted the key in the rusty doorknob, it fit perfectly without any resistance. As I opened the door, I was welcomed by the darkness. Groping for the light switch my hand momentarily landed on a cold surface, icy and rubbery... similar to the feeling of the skin on a dead man.

I immediately withdrew my hand, and found the switch after fumbling a few more times. The fluorescent lamp flickered and came to life. In a split second, even before my consciousness could fully register it, a girl of about four years old stood blankly staring at me from the far corner of the room. She held a doll missing a right leg, her eyes were blank and lifeless, a knife stuck between her neck and her chin.

Then the brightness of the lamp dispelled the image, and in my tired and sleepy condition, I dispelled it as playful imagination.

I sat on the surprisingly clean sofa, and was quickly lulled to sleep by the soft rustling leaves, and the heavy scent of Pine from outside. Trapped between consciousness and sleep, I could faintly smell a burning candle, then a woman's soft almost eerie voice saying: "We have a guest... welcome to our humble abode." And then darkness took me to a long, deep, troubled sleep.

In my dream I saw a bright and airy garden, awashed with bright mixed colors of Anthoriums and Euphorbias.

A serene looking woman sat on a wrought-iron chair, sipping afternoon coffee. I slowly made my way to her, she smiled and gestured to the seat opposite her.