‘Aswang’

By Raoul Suarez

The aswangs came to the barrio today. They came to claim their prey. They moved swiftly and there was no time to react. It happened so quick. It ended so fast. It was hard to move. Those who witnessed what occurred just stood there. Frozen. Shocked. In disbelief. It took a while for people to really understand what just happened. A few minutes later, the screams and the wails filled the streets. It was a horrible mess.

These aswangs. They exist. The people in the barrio knew about them because of the shows on television but never in their lives did they think that they would get to encounter these vile and ruthless creatures face-to-face, and in close proximity. Today, they showed their true form. They came to take what they wanted. There were two of them.

These aswangs. They don’t care who you are. They don’t mind if you’re young or old. They don’t discriminate if you’re male, female, or the third sex. They don’t need to know if you’ve been bad or good; it’s a role Santa Claus plays already. All they really care about is the kill. They live to spill blood. They are very efficient at that. They always make sure that they finish off their victim in the soonest possible time. When they decide to strike terror, they make sure that it will leave scars for those who witness the act and live to tell the tale. It is always a life and death situation every time they show up. They run the risk of being killed so it’s always either you or them. But 99 percent of the time it’s going to be you. They have trained themselves to make sure it’s you. They thoroughly study their prey. They take the time to learn about your habits. They study you well. They make sure they do not mess up. Failure is never an option. They come when you least expect it. They come when you’re not prepared. Today was that time of the month again. It was time to get fed.

These aswangs. They were not from the barrio but they came to visit once in a while. People in the barrio would often pass them by without even recognizing their presence. It’s what old people used to say. The aswang is a master of disguise and it doesn’t prey on people from its own neighborhood. The aswang would usually go to a faraway town, looking very casual so as not to arouse suspicion. They go somewhere else to claim their prey. Somewhere far. Some place where nobody knows them. They come home full until it’s time to feed again. That’s what they do.

These aswangs. They usually work alone but it benefits them more if they collaborate and come in pairs. The old people would always say that it would be impossible for an aswang to come and wreak havoc since the small streets in the barrio were always busy. A lot of people in the barrio also believed that they were safe from the aswang as long as they didn’t go out at night. The aswang wasn’t really a threat. Not during the day. Not when the sun was out. That’s what they all thought. They were wrong about that. People can be stupid sometimes. People can be careless. They would often neglect the existence of a threat until bad things happen to them or someone they love; that’s when the realizations kick in. It takes some time to sink in. When it does, the deed is done.

The aswangs came to the barrio today. They came to claim their prey. They moved swiftly and there was no time to react. It happened so quick. It ended so fast. Five gunshots to the body and three to the head. Efficient. Precise. On-point. Nobody really survives that. The victim is always going to be you. Not them. Never. It will always be you.

The aswangs came to the barrio today. In broad daylight, they came. Riding their motorcycle. Clad in dark jackets. Wearing helmets and masks. It was just business. Nothing personal. Another life taken. While one family is left in despair with desperate cries for justice, the aswang’s family gets fed and the bills are settled. Just another paycheck. Just another one for the books.