[EVA]
"Uhm… is it supposed to… look like this?" I asked, voice trembling.
"Oh, it may look strange," she cooed, leaning much too close, "but the flavor is divine. It's our secret recipe that's why the color is like blood."
She didn't leave.
She waited.
Her opaque eyes locked on me — patient, hungry, expectant.
I had no escape.
I lifted the spoon and inhaled. The aroma was intoxicating — savory, rich, irresistible. Despite everything inside me screaming wrong — hunger pushed aside logic.
One bite.
Warm.
Smooth.
Unfamiliar… yet delicious.
Shock jolted through me.
"It's… it's really good," I whispered, shamefully eager for another spoonful.
Before I knew it, the bowl was empty. A hunger I didn't know I had growled for more.
"Could I . . . maybe have another?"
The woman laughed again. "Of course. Wait here…"
Wait here.
Why did those words sound like a threat?
I looked toward the entrance — the men who'd been watching earlier stood outside now, half-hidden behind a tree, peering at me with crooked smiles.
My heartbeat thundered against my ribs — every instinct screaming that something was terribly, horribly wrong.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
My stomach knotted. Probably my aunt or uncle — furious I ran away. I declined quickly, wanting to turn off my phone.
Then realization struck — I hadn't called Mr. Jones since arriving.
Stupid.
I rummaged through my bag, pulling out his calling card.
Before I could dial — the phone rang again.
Same number as the card.
Relief washed over me when he was the one who was calling. I answered immediately.
"H-Hello? Mr. Jones?"
"Where are you?" His voice was urgent — too urgent. Panic crackled beneath every word.
"I… I'm—"
He cut me off sharply. "Don't tell me… you're already in Tres Noches?"
The anger — the fear — in his tone made my skin crawl.
"Well, you said I should go and… here I am," I stammered.
"Damn it, Evangeline!"
My full name on his lips slammed into me like thunder.
"I told you to call me before you went to that province!"
"I—I'm sorry, I just—" A wave of dizziness hit me. My vision blurred. The room tilted.
Strange.
Why was I suddenly… so… tired?
"Evangeline! Listen to me — where are you? Tell me exactly where you are!"
"I… I'm… ele… school…" My voice drifted.
Words tangled.
The phone slipped from my fingers.
The old woman returned — slowly — her shadow stretching unnaturally long behind her. She leaned over me, blocking the light.
My heartbeat slowed — as though something heavy pressed down on my veins.
Her eyes…
Her pupils…
They reflected my face…
Upside down.
Not like a normal reflection.
Wrong.
Wrong in a way my brain refused to comprehend.
My vision darkened — my consciousness drowning.
Her rotten teeth smiled wide —
Too wide until it reached her ears.
And the world collapsed.
====
[EVA]
When consciousness returned, it did not come gently.
I awoke to darkness — thick, suffocating — pierced only by the light of a full moon hanging far too large in the sky. Its silver glow spilled over everything, unnaturally bright, as if the heavens themselves watched with morbid curiosity.
My gaze was drawn to it, helpless — like the moon commanded my eyes.
So vast.
So luminous.
So hungry.
"You're awake?"
A gravelly voice snapped me back to the nightmare I was living in.
Cold fear surged through me. My arms ached — stretched uncomfortably over my head. Thick ropes scraped my skin. I was tied to a wooden post.
Panic clawed up my throat. "W-Where am I? What's going on?"
The old woman — the one from the eatery — stood hunched over a large cauldron suspended above a roaring fire. Shadows danced grotesquely across her wrinkled skin as she stirred the bubbling red liquid.
"A shame you had to awaken," she crooned without turning. "Had you slept a little longer, you would not have needed to feel pain. Not like the one before you."
She gestured toward the side — and that was when true terror gripped me.
Her husband — the old man — stood at a long table, swinging a butcher's cleaver downward.
Not on livestock.
Not on anything that should be carved.
A human body lay sprawled before him — chest split open, ribs cracked apart. Intestines coiled. Limbs hacked away. Blood flowed freely, dripping into buckets below like a butchered animal.
I couldn't breathe. The world tilted violently.
He paused only briefly to speak — voice devoid of empathy.
"We don't require much of you. We have enough meat from this one for tomorrow's meals… but we'll cut off your limbs now. Just to be certain you don't run away."
He said it the way others might comment on the weather.
His cleaver came down again — crack — bone splintering beneath steel.
My stomach lurched. My throat tightened.
That dinuguan I ate . . . Oh God—
I vomited violently — but even that offered no relief.
Black bile splattered the dirt… and something else — something that looked like a tiny finger — slid out.
My retching echoed in the hut.
The old woman laughed — high and shrill.
"Nothing beats fresh ingredients," she hissed, showing off her rotting teeth.
I wanted to scream. To claw. To run. But I was too weak. My pulse thundered in my ears, each beat threatening to rip me apart.
"W-what… are you?" My voice was barely a whisper.
The old woman's smile twisted… warped… split wider than any human mouth should.
Her eyes turned fully red — glowing like embers.
Her skin shriveled black, tightening over bones.
Her nails elongated into curved talons.
Her hair writhed — alive — in serpentine waves.
A monstrous tongue, long and slimy, flicked out between jagged teeth.
"We are Aswang, hija," she purred, voice echoing from a deeper hell. "Did you not know? Tres Noches belongs to us. And you—" She dragged her tongue across her teeth. "—walked willingly into our den."
Her scent — putrid rot, sewer stench, iron-heavy blood — filled the air. My eyes watered. I gagged.
Strength drained from my limbs. Darkness crept into my vision.
I can't die here. Not like this. Not as food.
My fingers twitched uselessly against the ropes.
"Now, hija…" The creature stepped closer, claws gleaming. "Be a good girl and offer yourself as our supper. It will hurt less if you do not struggle."
"No—NO!" I screamed, voice raw. "HELP! SOMEONE—PLEASE!"
The monster laughed — mocking my desperation.
"Cry as you wish. No one can hear you this deep in the night."
She raised her claws—
A voice, cold and commanding, split the air:
"I warned you… eating humans is forbidden."
The Aswangs froze — eyes widening in primal fear.
A figure stepped out from the shadows — tall, impossibly tall, with a presence that devoured the light around him.
His skin — pale as moonlight.
His hair — long, flowing, white as winter's breath.
His chest — bare, sculpted as if chiseled from marble.
His eyes — blood-red flames that burned through darkness.
He was breathtaking — and absolutely terrifying.
The old woman choked on her breath.
"You— you are from the Conté… Why are you here?!"
He tilted his head slightly — expression stony, carved from cold indifference.
"Such lowly creatures dare question me?"
Terror overtook the elderly monsters. They fell to their knees, bowing so low their foreheads struck the earth.
"Forgive us! We only— We only sought— Please! We beg—!"
His hand moved — so swiftly I barely saw it.
A whisper of air.
A flicker of silver.
Then—
Two heads rolled across the dirt.
No blood spilled.
Instead, black ash poured from their necks — their bodies collapsing into shadow. In moments, they were nothing more than soot scattered by the wind.
Silence returned — thick as a burial shroud.
The man stepped closer.
In this proximity — he wasn't a savior. He was another monster.
Claws protruded from his fingers — long and crimson.
His teeth — sharp enough to tear into bone.
His aura — darker than the night behind him.
"You should not be here,"he said, voice deep and heavy with something ancient.
The world swayed again — too bright, too dark, too twisted.
The last thing I saw… was his glowing red eyes… turning toward me…
Before darkness finally claimed me.