August 27, 2018
[Andres Espinoza's Chapter]
(Prequel of the Transformation Arc part 01)
Andres Espinoza - Christian Espinoza's uncle, the man who raised him like his own son.
He is the closest thing Christian has to a father; the only family he has left.
After the incident that wiped out their entire bloodline, Andres discovered every member of their family die one by one until only he and Christian remained. The trauma nearly shattered his sanity. But the weight of responsibility, and his burning desire to avenge their deaths, became the only things keeping him alive.
That desire became something darker. Something inhuman.
His rage and grief opened a door inside him, making his spirit an unstoppable form of vengeance.
A loud alarm echoed through the entire room. Andres yawned, stretched his arms, and turned off the alarm beside his bed. The cool air from the air conditioner swirled through every corner of the room, making his body feel heavier and lazier.
He opened the window and saw raindrops sliding down the glass pane.
He quickly got up and turned off the air conditioner. Then he went to the bathroom, splashed water on his face, and looked at himself in the mirror.
"Just two more days... and this suffering will finally be over," he whispered to himself.
Stepping out of his room, Andres walked to the living room and poured hot water into the thermos. He sat down, sank into the chair, and switched on his phone, the screen's glow cutting through the quiet morning air.
[3:55AM]
[Notifications:]
•Messages
- (Manila Unit):
Meeting:
7:00 AM - Camp Sagrada (QC Base )
When the thermos finished boiling, he turned it off and set it aside on the kettle stand. He grabbed a mug and poured in a spoonful of Barako coffee powder. Then he filled it with hot water and placed the thermos carefully on the table.
He took a sip of his coffee, letting the bitter taste linger on his tongue. Through the window, he gazed at the city - blurred by the rain. A moment later, his phone buzzed with a message.
Comrade Pascual:
"The Taguig City Unit is with us. Hurry up."
Andres had been lying to his family for a long time. Everyone believed he worked as a police officer in Manila - but that wasn't true. In reality, he was part of a private investigator under of 2 secret government organization known as the Krusada, with the cooperation of the Philippine Supernatural Committee (PSC).
They were a special unit tasked with investigating murders across the city. But that wasn't their only purpose. They also held the greatest secret in the Philippines - the existence of aswangs living among the people.
After finishing his coffee, he took a sandwich from the freezer and placed it in the oven, setting the timer for six minutes. Leaving it to heat, he went to the bathroom to take a shower. Moments later, he returned to his room, got dressed, and packed his gear. He slipped into his uniform, then put on a jacket to shield himself from the chill of the rainy morning.
As he stepped out of his room, he walked to the kitchen, took the sandwich from the oven, and placed it into a small plastic container. Suddenly, his phone started ringing. He set the container down on the table, the faint aroma of toasted bread still lingering in the air.
Andres: "Hey, I'm eating right now."
Unnamed Comrade: "Hurry up, man. We've got an unexpected guest."
Andres: "Who? Someone from the Mindanao Unit?"
Unnamed Comrade: "Idiot. no! From the CIA!"
Andres: "Huh? How-"
Unnamed Comrade: "It's because of that special investigation."
Andres: "You mean the case of Pastor William Apollo?"
Unnamed Comrade: "Yeah, that's the one."
Andres: "Alright, I'm on my way."
The call ended, and he quickly booked a taxi. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he stepped out of the apartment leaving the plastic container forgotten on the table. As he closed the door behind him, a Facebook notification suddenly lit up his phone screen:
[Notifications]:
Facebook: "Welcome to Manila, Central Intelligence Agency of America!!"
A light drizzle greeted him as he stepped outside. The sky was heavy and dark, making it hard to see the raindrops falling from above. While he waited by the roadside, a speeding car roared past him, splashing muddy water onto his pants.
"Putang inang to."
A few seconds later, the taxi he'd been waiting for pulled up. He opened the door and slipped inside, greeted by the cool rush of the air conditioner and the low murmur of the radio filling the quiet space.
Driver: "Where to, sir?"
Andres: "To Camp Crame, please."
The taxi started moving. As they drove through the damp streets, Andres leaned his head against the window. The steady hum of the radio filled the car, blending with the rhythm of the rain outside.
[The Radio:]
"There's a breaking news from United States - reports confirm that a Filipino pastor has been arrested for his involvement in what authorities are calling a 'cannibal murder.'"
"Wait, are they talking about Pastor William Apollo? The one from that New Heavens Cult?"
"Yeah, that's him. The same pastor who claimed he could 'cleanse sins through flesh'."
"Figures. I always knew that guy was a freak. Cannibalism in the name of God - what a joke. And it's embarrassing, really. Because of people like him, foreigners think badly of us. They're ruining our country's reputation."
"Yeah, you're right."
"Have you noticed though? Ever since that case hit the news, there've been a string of similar killings back home. Not just in California - but all across the Philippines."
"You mean those "cannibal killings" in Southeast Asia? Yeah, I've been following that.
Some people say it's worse than the blood-drinking murders reported in Europe."
"The Philippine government has just declared martial law across several areas in the Visayas-most notably in Panay and Samar Islands. Cebu City is now under total lockdown."
"Holy shi-"
"Yeah... pretty bad, right?"
"That's insane. Looks like the government's finally making a move."
"And get this-reports say an old vigilante organization, one that's been around since the Spanish colonial era, has resurfaced. They've officially joined forces with the government to fight back against the cannibal outbreak spreading across the country."
"Yeah, the cannibal killings in asia is going too far. Especially in the Philippines and Indonesia. There's a theory online - says all these murders are connected to an old Visayan folktale."
"You mean... the Aswang?"
"Exactly. That legendary creature from the Visayas - half-human, half-demon."
"What's the difference between them and Western vampires anyway?"
"Simple. Vampires drink blood. Aswangs? They eat flesh."
"And here's something creepier - Western vampires are known for their fangs.
But Aswangs? They've got these long, needle-like tongues that pierce through windows and ceilings... straight into their victim's body."
"Jesus... that's messed up."
"There were even wartime reports about them - 'long-tongued cannibal guerrillas' who ambushed Japanese camps in the Visayas and Southern Luzon during World War II."
"No way... So even the soldiers fought them?"
"That's what the old documents say. And if you think that's wild - some theories claim that the Soviet Army experimented with "vampire soldiers" during both World Wars... to fight against Nazi 'werewolf' troops."
"Now that... is insane."
"Insane, yes - but that's the world we live in. You never really know what's hiding in the dark... until it starts feeding."
The soft hum of the radio filled the silence between them, broken only by the rhythm of the rain tapping on the car roof. The driver's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, studying Andres for a moment before finally speaking.
"Son," the old man said, his voice gravelly. "Are you a cop?"
Andres blinked, caught off guard. He straightened in his seat before answering.
"Yes, sir. I'm a police officer."
The driver nodded slowly, as if confirming something he already suspected. "Which unit are you from?"
"A special unit," Andres replied, his tone careful. "Under a government organization."
"Ah," the man said with a faint smile. "I used to wear the same uniform but I'm retired now. From batch '1980 to 2010. I was part of a special division that handled cannibal cases."
"Thirty years?" Andres asked, surprised. "Then you must know about the things the government keeps hidden."
The driver chuckled, his laughter echoing faintly in the enclosed space. "You mean the Aswangs? Hahaha. They've been here long before the Spaniards set foot on our shores."
Andres hesitated. "Can I ask you something, sir?"
"Go on, boy," the driver said, eyes still on the road. "Ask away."
"Are there other things the government's hiding from us, besides the Aswangs?"
The driver went quiet. The windshield wipers brushed away the rain, but the silence between them only grew heavier. Finally, he exhaled.
"Maybe, You know, there's always a secret." he said slowly, "only a few Aswangs live among the common people."
Andres frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Most of them," the driver continued, "belong to the elite."
"The rich?"
"Politicians. Businessmen. Actors. People who own the city from the shadows. They control gangs to keep the low and middle-class Aswangs in line. So in short..."
"They control the country."
Andres leaned forward slightly. "But there are different kinds of Aswang, right? Are they all the same?"
"Depends," the old man said. "Some rule the skies. Some roams the earth. Others hunt beneath the waters."
Andres shivered. "That's... insane."
The driver's expression hardened. "They're everywhere, son. You can't escape them. There's no safe place left."
Raindrops streaked down the window, distorting the world outside. The city glowed faintly beneath the storm clouds, its towers swallowed by the gray.
"If you want to survive," the driver said, "leave Manila, leave the Philippines."
Andres' voice turned cold. "No. I still have something to avenge."
The driver chuckled dryly. "Revenge. A young man's motivation. You sound new to the game."
"You're right," Andres admitted. "I just joined the force recently. Feels like I'm working for SOCO."
"Ah," the driver said with a knowing grin. "An investigator. Lucky you but be careful."
"I'm always careful, sir."
"I was one of the special forces before," the driver added, eyes narrowing. "I even met the leader of the Uwak Clan in the Makati City back in '86."
Andres turned sharply. "You mean... the Devil of Makati?"
"Yeah, he is." the driver said, voice heavy with memory. "I'm one of the last survivors of the Makati City Massacre."
He met Andres' gaze in the mirror. For a moment, there was no sound but the drops of the rain.
"You've still got a lot to eat, kid," the driver said quietly. "The Aswangs aren't your only enemies. There are other things living among us-things worse than monsters. But your greatest enemy won't be a creature at all..."
His tone darkened. "...it'll be another human being."
Andres gave a small nod. "It's an honor to meet you, sir."
The driver smiled faintly. "What's your name, son?"
"Andres. Andres Espinoza. I turned 38 recently this August."
The man's brow lifted. "Espinoza? I had a partner with that surname once. Any chance you're related?"
"No, sir," Andres said. "I'm the first in my family to take this path."
"Then why you choose it?"
The question hung in the air. For a while, only the rain answered.
Finally, Andres spoke, his voice low and distant.
"My sister was murdered by her husband. Her husband is an Aswang. She was carrying his child when it happened."
The driver's grip on the wheel tightened, but he said nothing.
"It didn't end there," Andres continued. "They had three kids. I raised the eldest myself. I swore I'd make them pay for what he did."
"Her husband was an Aswang, huh?" the driver muttered. "Then your nephew...?"
"He was infected, by the blood."
"By the blood huh? Interesting." the old man echoed bitterly. "He's a hybrid, his transformation can be triggered anytime."
Andres leaned forward again. "Can I ask something else, sir?"
"Go ahead."
"When you said there are other beings living among us what did you mean?"
The driver laughed: deep, coarse, and louder than the radio.
"You're still too innocent, kid. Fine, I'll tell you."
He lowered his voice, his eyes narrowing on the road ahead.
"Foreign ghouls have entered our country. But they're not called Aswangs. If you know your history, then you know what came with the Spaniards." He paused. "Vampires."
Andres' eyes widened. "European vampires? Spanish settlers?"
"Exactly," the driver said, smirking. "The ones who lives in some old haciendas. They were the original rivals of the Aswangs. But that's not the end of it. There are others too-creatures even I can't name."
He glanced at Andres through the mirror one last time.
"Be ready, Andres Espinoza. Because we're not alone in this country. Not even close."
"This city is a battlefield, not just home for them."
The buildings of Quezon City stood firm against the sullen typhoon winds above. The taxi rolled along Epifanio de los Santos Avenue-one of the most notoriously congested arteries of Metro Manila but at this hour, the road was surprisingly tame. That calm wouldn't last once rush hour hit.
From the Guadalupe Bridge over the Pasig River to the crowded maze of Cubao, the conversation inside the car deepened with every turn of the wheels. As they sped along the expressway, Andres finally asked the question that had been on his mind.
"The nightmares... they still haunt me."
Andres swallowed hard as he listened to the story.
"Every day, every night."
"Every time I blink."
"There's no escape from them."
"Because their screams are still inside me.."
Andres: "What's your name, sir?"
"Hector Valdez, son."
Hector took off his hat, revealing a rugged face carved by a massive claw mark-like something a tiger would leave behind.
Hector: "I live in Makati. Completely alone. I was twenty-eight when I joined the Krusada. I'm fifty-eight now. No family, no friends, no relatives... I'm the only one left from my unit. I watched them all die."
Andres: "It's an honor to meet you, sir."
Hector let out a hollow laugh.
Hector: "Don't honor me. I'm a shame."
The smile on Andres' face disappeared instantly.
Hector: "Too many families lost loved ones for this so-called 'sacrifice.' And yet of all people I am the one who survived. And now I'm retired."
Andres: "Still... you served the country, didn't you?"
Hector: "Remember this-your sanity drains away the moment you find yourself standing among the corpses of the people you love."
Andres fell silent.
"I want to die."
The words hit Andres like a cold blade. Not just because of what Hector said, but because it was the first time he had heard a veteran openly wish for death.
Hector: "But I won't waste their sacrifice. For us"
His tone softened, but only for a moment.
A cold shiver crept up Andres' fingers.
Hector: "So I force myself to wake up every day... distract myself with anything... until the body grows tired enough to finally give up."
He chuckled faintly.
"It's an another suicide right?."
Hector's smile was small, almost nostalgic.
Hector: "You're too young to be a member of Krusada. Anyone with you?"
Andres: "Just my nephew. My parents are gone, and I haven't heard from my older brother since I left the province. I think they're all already dead."
Hector: "Which province?"
Andres: "Capiz."
Hector: "Capiz... their fucking homeland."
Andres: "I lost contact with him after President Dagohoy declared Martial Law over the entire Visayas."
Hector: "That dictator. He's a former leader of the Mindanao Death Squad so expect that.."
Andres: "What is the Mindanao Death Squad?"
Hector: "One of the biggest hunters organization in the Philippines. They just operate exclusively in Mindanao."
Andres: "Makes sense."
Hector: "He's a ex-hunter. A lot of Aswang and Vampire clans hate him. Rumor says he's connected to a major Aswang bloodline, so he's been targeting their rival clan specifically."
Andres: "My nephew told me something like that."
Hector: "It's a massive game for them."
Andres: "Well, the Philippines has been their business hub for ages, right?"
Hector: "Especially Manila. Then the Spanish vampires arrived."
Andres: "An Aswang Syndicate, huh?"
Hector: "These bastards run abortion clinics, morgues, abduction rings-breeding human blood like livestock. Their main base is in Santa Cruz. One of the biggest wards in the city."
Andres: "No wonder the city feels like a human meat farm."
Hector: "Like the Vampires. Two of the city's syndicates belong to them."
Andres: "Are they the winged ones?"
Hector: "One of them, yes the Uwak Clan, but they're not the only winged ones. Some of them use weapons like bolo knives too."
Andres: "How many Aswang clans live and operating in Manila?"
Hector: "Around ten. But some say it might be as high as twenty-one, not counting the immigrants."
Andres: "Are those ten clans all at peace?"
Hector: "No. Each controls their own gang, syndicate, or mafia-and their own leaders. Clan wars used to erupt all the time. They say those days are over, though. Apparently they formed an alliance to unite against foreign intruders."
Andres: "What about the outsiders who show up?"
Hector: "Bloodline protects bloodline, that's their tradition.."
Andres: "They're still enemies of the Aswang, right?"
Hector: "Of course. Who would let outsiders feast on their own territory?"
Andres: "This is a massive mess."
Hector: "Manila has been at war for two hundred years. And it still hasn't ended."
Andres: "They're fighting over us."
Hector: "Exactly. Each has their own way of catching prey."
Andres: "That's why I avoid dark alleys."
Hector: "Darkness won't kill you. Crowds will because that's where they blend in."
Hector's eyes hardened as the taxi sped down the wet highway.
Hector: "In my thirty years of service, here's the greatest lesson I've learned:
Influence is the most effective weapon for gaining trust."
Andres: "You're right."
Hector: "This city is full of people wearing masks. You know what that means?"
Andres: "Fake faces?"
Hector: "Not just fake-rotten. Underneath? Lies."
Andres: "Is this another political shit?"
Hector: "Partially. But much bigger."
The car finally stopped at a guarded gate along the avenue-armed men in special forces armor stood watch.
Hector: "We're here."
Andres: "Can I get your number?"
...
Hector: "Sorry, son. I deleted all my contacts."
The answer surprised Andres, worry flickering in his eyes. But time was up. He opened the car door.
Andres: "Thanks for the story. Take care."
Hector: "Hope we meet again."
Andres stepped out. Rain welcomed him, along with the massive security gate towering before him. He opened his umbrella as the taxi slowly faded into the storm.
"That man... he's different."
He walked a few steps, then froze.
"He really wants to erase himself from the world because of what he's been through?"
He stared at his reflection in the wet pavement.
"Will I lose my sanity if I keep serving? Or die like his comrades?"
The thought burrowed into him-not just now but for the entire day. Even in sleep, it clawed at his mind.
Standing there, drenched in rain and dread, he whispered to himself:
"Fuck..."
He continued walking toward the checkpoint. But the question followed him, heavy as the storm.
"Does serving your country requires your sanity?"