The Headless Boogeyman | Complete

Lima

We drive towards the home of Lady Esmeralda passing through familiar houses and streets, seeing familiar faces and friends. This investigation is also for them. For my hometown and everything close to my heart.

When we arrive, we were greeted by stray dogs barking their hearts out towards our direction, their sharp canine teeth exposed for us to see. Irene mocks the dogs by intimidating them with her stares while Pedro scoots closer to me.

"Irene, stop that. If these dogs were to chase us, we're going to leave you," I warn.

"These dogs don't stand a chance," Irene smirked in our direction.

I ignored her and notices an old, woman coming out of the antique house. "Who's there?"

"Excuse us, but we are looking for Esmeralda Gegante? Does she live here?" we ask, careful not to trigger the dogs.

"Before that, please do come in. Those damned dogs are too noisy for my old ears to handle," she offers as she opened the wooden gate for us.

"Thank you," Pedro smiles which Esmeralda appreciated with another toothless smile.

She welcomes us into her house which is mainly made of smoothened wood. The exterior looks like an ancestry home from the dark part of our history, the Spanish colonization. The inside of the house smells like incense and lavender. Despite the old-looking furniture, the house looks like it was something from a magazine.

I heard Irene gasp the moment her eyes meet the grand piano sitting in the living room. On the shelf near it, rests picture frames in black and white tone.

"My brother used to play the piano," Esmeralda starts as she signals us to sit on her wooden couch.

"Where is he now?" Irene asks, still eyeing the majestic piano.

"He was found dead when we were young," she replies, sadness evident in her tone.

"I'm sorry," Irene quickly respond, almost regretting the question.

Esmeralda released a throaty laugh. "It's okay, it happened ages ago."

"If it's okay, do you mind telling us the cause of his death? Pedro inquires, setting his bag on the floor.

"Sure. But before that, wait for me and I'll go get coffee and bread." Esmeralda disappears into the kitchen.

"She's too nice! She might be a witch!" Irene whispers.

"Don't be ridiculous!" I reply in a hushed voice.

"She reminds me of my grandmother," Pedro butts in.

Just before Irene can talk back, Esmeralda came back with a tray of hot coffee and Spanish bread. The smell of the caffeine excites me. It travels to my nostrils down to every fiber of my lungs.

"Thank you very much!" I declare with a warm, grateful smile.

Irene looks skeptical at first but Pedro urges him to take the old woman's generosity. I carefully take a bite of the Spanish bread and the sweetness of the sugar inside exploded on my taste buds. I excitedly drink the coffee after devouring a Spanish bread, sending warm love on my stomach.

"So, where are we again?" Esmeralda sits back to her rocking chair.

"About your brother's death," Irene replies, mouth filled with Spanish bread."Manners!" I whisper to her.

Esmeralda once again laugh. It's odd, no matter who but old people's laugh always tugs my heartstrings. They have this magical effect on my soul.

"Dear, it's okay. You can eat and talk all you want. It's called multitasking," she smiles.Irene swallows everything in one big gulp, feeling embarrassed. I smirk towards her direction in which, she masterfully ignored.

"My brother was found in the woods near here with his head and organs missing," Esmeralda states, sadness evident in her voice.

"Do you know what did that to him?" I ask, feeling my nerves build up.

"The same thing that did this to me." She touches her neck where a big scar lays."The Pugot Mamu!" the three of us simultaneously exclaim.

"How did you know that demon's name?" Esmeralda asks, shocked by our sudden outburst.

"We are journalists from our school and we are investigating this matter," Pedro explains professionally.

"I'm afraid this thing is not for the young to investigate. This creature feeds off the youth," she emphasizes.

"But, how did you survived?" Irene asks, her conviction doubled.

"Just when it's about to take my head, it rained," Esmeralda narrates.

"You're saying the creature's weakness is water?" Pedro narrow his eyes on the cup of coffee on his hand.

"Not just any water, but freshwater. I don't know how to explain it myself, but the rain became my salvation." She replies as she takes another sip of her coffee.

"Thank you for everything, you're such a lovely human being." Pedro once again smile. The kind of smile where his eyes would disappear and wrinkles would appear on the side of his eyelids.

"Anytime my dear." Esmeralda returns the smile with the same sweetness embedded into it.