It started with an email.
Dear Ms. Samotiloy,
We regret to inform you that your blood delivery subscription has been suspended pending verification of medical necessity. Please provide a doctor's certification within 30 days to resume service.
Sincerely,
MedSupply Philippines
Customer Service
Glad read it five times.
Then she screamed.
"ALEXA! WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?"
"It means your blood supplier thinks you're a human with anemia, not a supernatural creature with dietary requirements. They want proof."
"I AM a supernatural creature with dietary requirements! I CAN'T provide medical records!"
"Then you'll need to find alternative sources. Would you like me to search for 'black market blood suppliers near me'?"
"ALEXA, NO!"
But it was too late. The search was already running.
Within an hour, Glad's phone was blowing up with messages from... questionable sources.
"Hey girl, hear you need blood. I know a guy. DM me."
"Fresh supply, direct source. Cash only. No questions asked."
"I can get you Type O by tomorrow. Meet at the pier. Come alone."
"This is how people get murdered," Glad muttered.
"Technically, you're the one who could do the murdering," Alexa pointed out. "So really, they should be worried about you."
"That's not the point!"
Ariel arrived within the hour, having seen her distressed Facebook post. "I heard about the blood situation. Don't worry. Creature community's got your back."
He introduced her to a network she never knew existed—supernatural creatures who'd adapted to modern life through underground economies.
"There's a whole system," he explained as they walked through a hidden market in Cebu. "Blood sellers. Organ traders. Even a guy who specializes in harvested fear—very niche, very expensive."
The market was hidden beneath an old warehouse, accessible only to those who knew the password ("kumainna ba kayo?"). Inside, creatures of every description haggled over goods both mundane and magical.
"Glad! Welcome!" A massive kapre waved her over to his stall, which displayed bottles of blood in every shade of red. "I'm Ben. Ariel told me about your situation. MedSupply, right? They've been cracking down lately. Very annoying."
"You sell blood?"
"Ethically sourced! Volunteers only, paid fairly, all health screenings observed. I'm basically a blood bank with better vibes." He handed her a sample. "Type O negative, fresh from this morning. On the house, since you're new."
Glad tasted it. Perfect. Fresh. Ethical.
"How much for a subscription?"
Ben named a price—slightly higher than MedSupply, but reasonable. "Delivery by dusk spirit. They're faster than Grab."
"Deal."
As she completed the transaction, Ariel squeezed her hand. "See? Community. We take care of our own."
Glad felt tears prick her eyes. For 173 years, she'd been alone. Isolated. Hiding.
Now she had friends. A support system. A blood dealer with better vibes.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Don't thank me yet." Ariel grinned. "Wait till you try Ben's hemoglobin brownies. They'll change your life."
Back in Dumaguete, an unmarked van parked near Glad's apartment.
Two men in government uniforms consulted a tablet displaying her face.
"Subject identified. Manananggal, confirmed. Currently in Cebu at an unregistered supernatural market."
"Orders?"
"Observe only. Director wants to assess before approaching."
"And if she's dangerous?"
The first man looked at the videos playing on his phone—Glad failing at selfies, hugging Mang Berting, being adopted by the entire internet.
"She's the most popular creature in the country. Dangerous to her career, maybe. Dangerous to people?" He shrugged. "Doesn't seem like it."
"Orders remain: observe. We'll move when Director says so."
The van waited.
Watched.
And Glad, enjoying her hemoglobin brownies, had no idea.