Time: 6:15 AM
Camp Crame, Quezon City, Metro Manila
Camp Crame, one of the largest police camps in Metro Manila, stood in the center of Quezon City- one of the major business hub and a territory where the shadows roamed in secret. Because of this, government security here was doubled. Most civilians believed Camp Crame was nothing more than a police camp, but they had no idea that beneath it lay a massive underground base.
They called it Camp Sagrada, or Area Sagrada. The name came from Bermundo Sagrada, a renowned vampire hunter from Madrid who once lived in Manila back in the 1800s. The Americans built it in 1932 in preparation for the possible next world war. During Ferdinand Marcos' dictatorship, the government cooperated with the Krusadas due to the increasing aggression of the aswang and immigrant vampires, eventually handing the entire underground complex over to them.
Only a handful of officers aboveground knew what was hidden below-a military underworld buried beneath the city.
Andres arrived at the gate, guarded heavily by SWAT officers even though it was only a checkpoint. He took out his wallet and flashed his badge as a member of a special police unit. They immediately let him through.
'National Headquarters - Philippine National Police.'
As Andres stepped inside the building, he was greeted by the lobby, filled with police officers and criminology students. He turned left into the hallway and headed toward the elevator when he heard K-9 units barking behind him.
Arf!! Arf!!
He glanced back and saw several mysterious Americans in trench coats and black sunglasses. One of them was blond and nearly eight feet tall. Another wore a black hat and carried an unbranded tetra-pack juice. Their skin was unnaturally pale-the kind of pale that glowed faintly even without light.
When Andres entered the elevator, the two American men followed. There was a mirror on the back wall with a sign:
"No filming or photographs. This is a private government property. Any form of recording is strictly prohibited."
He stepped toward the panel and pressed the keypad:
• Floor 1
• Floor 3
• LG
A fingerprint scanner lit up. Andres placed his thumb on it.
Immediately, the elevator began descending-fast, heavy, as if the floor itself were sinking into the earth. Andres stepped back, bracing himself, but the two men remained still, unaffected.
"Destination: LGF-13. Lower Ground Floor 13."
The elevator continued its deep descent. Besides Andres, only the three trench-coated men were inside. Halfway down, he heard them talking.
Agent 2 (blond): "Still stuck on drinking goat's blood? Pathetic."
Agent 1 (hat): "Where am I supposed to get human blood? The US Government restricted the supply."
Agent 2: "We've got stock in Washington. The Israeli government donated sixty thousand packs of 500-ml human blood."
Agent 1: "Where'd they get it?"
Agent 2: "Probably from their child hostages in Gaza."
Agent 1: "..."
Agent 2: "Want to try some?"
Agent 1: "No."
Agent 2: "You can't keep surviving on animal blood unless you get your own blood donor. Otherwise, you'll end up killing some motherfuckers."
Andres kept a straight face, pretending to ignore them, though their conversation shocked him.
"The US Government is weaponizing vampires? This is insane."
Agent 2: "Animal blood will never satisfy you, Dean. You need human blood. If you can't handle that, you can kill someone or deal with the Black Masks in New York. But that's illegal."
Agent 1 (Giordano): "..."
Agent 2: "Your kindness will make you a dead meatbag someday. Just take the damn blood."
Agent 1: "I never wanted to become a vampire."
Agent 2: "*chuckled* Then how did you become one?"
Agent 1: "I was just revived.."
Agent 2: "So tell me, Mister Giordano... You're a World War I supersoldier, right? When was the last time you tasted human blood?"
Agent 1: "None of your business.."
Agent 2: "Oh, look at you. All experienced but can't kill a single person. Weak as fuck."
Silence filled the elevator.
Agent 1: "I was human once. Don't blame me for trying to live normally."
Agent 2: "But you're not human anymore. You lost control. You even killed your wi-"
Before he could finish, The man with the hat snapped. He drew a handgun with a silver barrel from inside his coat and aimed it at the blond agent's head. Andres didn't flinch; he just kept pretending he didn't care.
Agent 1: "Don't piss me off, kid. I'm carrying silver rounds today."
A long silence.
The man with a hat lowers his weapon.
Agent 1: "Lycans are worse than vampires you know?."
Agent 2 (Wade): "Stupid.. mother fucking.. experimental subject!."
The man grabbed the blonde guy's wrist and punched him in the jaw so fast it looked like a flash of light. He collapsed, unconscious, blood dripping from his nose.
"Not today," The man muttered as he adjusted his leather gloves and slid his hands back into his pockets.
When the elevator doors opened, Andres and the person with the black hat stepped out, leaving the unconscious body behind.
Andres: "This is the most American thing I've ever seen."
As he stepped onto the first platform of the 13th floor, a cold breeze from the air-conditioned vents brushed against him.
The base was massive-like an endless laboratory. The hallway was flooded with fluorescent lighting and the constant hum of machinery echoed from every corner. The walls were stark white, and the floor was made of glossy white tiles that reflected every movement.
People walked through the corridors-mostly those in doctor's coats, suits, and occasionally armed personnel. SWAT officers guarded several doors, all locked and accessible only by identification card. From where he stood, a full map of the 13th floor was displayed on the wall. It spanned over 200 hectares and extended deep beneath Camp Aguinaldo.
Before reaching the intersection of the two hallways, a large electronic billboard hung from the ceiling, displaying live updates of murder reports across Metro Manila.
On the side of the screen, a replay of live broadcast of President Dagohoy's speech was playing. The president had been secretly supporting this operation since the beginning of his term.
"Our country is slowly turning into a battleground. Killings everywhere, crimes everywhere."
Andres walked toward the farthest chamber. He glanced at his watch: 6:30 AM. He picked up his pace, but was suddenly stopped by the man in the black hat he met earlier in the elevator.
Agent: "Hey, you're the guy who's together with us in the elevator, right?"
Andres halted.
Andres: "Yeah? Yes, I am." he replied, voice cold.
Agent: "Scared?"
Andres: "No, I have a meeting at 7 AM. I really need to go."
Andres faced him directly, brows tight.
Andres: "What do you want?"
Agent: "You dropped your wallet."
The agent slowly handed him the wallet. When Andres touched it, a chill ran through the leather. His eyes locked on the agent, noticing the faint glow in his iris hidden beneath the dark shades.
Agent: "My name is Dean Giordano, from the Central Intelligence Agency of the United States."
Andres: "Oh, I see."
(So?)
Mr. Giordano extended his hand. Andres stared at it, unsure if it was wise to trust him.
Why should I trust him? It's unbelievable for a vampire to be used in a governmental operation like this. Fuck this shit.
They shook hands. Andres felt the cold, pulse-less grip-like touching a corpse.
Mr. Giordano felt the warm rush of blood under Andres' skin, and hunger crawled back into him.
Detective Giordano: "I'm here to investigate Pastor William's case. The USSA (United States Supernatural Association) sent me here."
Andres: "... I'm Andres. Andres Espinoza. Liaison Investigator from the NBI-PSC."
Detective Giordano: "You heard that shit in the elevator, right? Don't be scared. I'm a Hunter. You don't have to be worry."
Andres: (Your country's government is weird as shit. You know that? Militarizing monsters? That's crazy.)
Detective Giordano: "So, you're from the National Bureau of Investigation and the Philippine Supernatural Committee. What are you doing in here?"
Andres: "I was assigned to a mission. The government and the Krusada united for a special project."
Detective Giordano: "A special project, huh?"
Andres: "You know exactly what kind of project it is."
Detective Giordano: "Genocide. Am I right?"
They chuckled, but suddenly Mr. Giordano's pocket vibrated. Andres returned to his cold expression.
The Detective pulled out his phone.
Detective Giordano: "I'm at the Elevator A entrance."
Man on phone: "It's going to start. Get in here. NOW!"
The call ended. Mr. Giordano slipped the phone back into his pocket.
Detective Giordano: "We have to go."
The speech on the billboard grew louder, echoing through the hall:
"The Philippines is only for Filipinos!! We will take our islands back!!"
Mr. Giordano walked away, disappearing into the crowd. Andres watched him vanish, his mind tangled. Not with fear-
but with a confusion so heavy it clenched his fists.
How can a monster become a hunter?
"You're a racist..."
A voice from behind him.
He turned and saw his co-investigator, Jared Augustin. Jared and Andres have been together for a long time, ever since Andres was assigned to his first case back in Laguna Province in 2015 - no wonder they became so close.
Andres: "It's not racist. It's just an opposing opinion, you know?"
Jared: "Then you're xenophobic."
A long silence...
Jared: "I can read your thoughts. Pare."
Andres chuckled while Jared remained calm.
Andres: "What's the point of using monsters to hunt other monsters?"
Jared: "This isn't about the hunt. It's about balance."
...
Jared: "Even if you eliminate every last one of those bastards in this city, it won't guarantee safety. There are still human criminals everywhere in this country. You know that."
Andres: "You don't understand."
Jared: "And before you say anything-the United States is better than our country."
Andres exhaled sharply.
Andres: "Fine. Defend your thoughts. I don't give a shit."
He walked away quickly, leaving Jared in the middle of the hallway.
"Sandali!! (wait)"
Andres didn't pay attention to anything around him. He kept walking until he vanished into the crowd.
Whatever they become, they're still monsters.
Even if they blend into our world or pretend to be one of us...
their nature never changes.
There's no difference-no matter how well they hide it.
To be continued...