Shadows Of Secrets

The darkness consumed me, swallowing everything—sight, sound, touch. It was a void where my senses were stripped away, leaving only the oppressive weight of silence. The quiet wasn't peaceful; it clawed at my mind, deafening in its sheer emptiness. But then, a crimson light pierced the black, faint at first, a flicker in the abyss. Slowly, it grew, searing into my vision until my eyes adjusted to its hellish glow.

The source was revealed: a throne, massive and grotesque, pulsating with an otherworldly radiance. Its red hue wasn't paint or metal—it was blood, thick and glistening, oozing and congealing over its jagged surface. The liquid seemed alive, writhing and dripping, forming small crimson pools that rippled unnaturally on the ground.

And seated atop this macabre throne was it.

The creature loomed, an incarnation of dread itself, matching the statue I had seen before—but this time, it breathed, it moved, it devoured. A Batibat, its six monstrous horns twisting skyward like jagged spears. Its skin was a sickly, ashen gray, cracked and veined with fiery streaks that pulsed like molten lava. But it was the eyes that trapped me—two glowing orbs of crimson hatred, piercing through the shadows, locking onto me with a hunger that chilled my very soul.

Then, the screams began.

It was a symphony of torment, a cacophony of agony that reverberated through the void. Ghosts and spirits surrounded the throne, their translucent forms writhing in despair. I watched in horror as they were dragged, clawed, and pulled into the Batibat's maw, their cries of pain mingling with wails of anger and sorrow. My stomach churned as I witnessed a child's spirit—fragile, barely formed—torn in two by the creature's claws before it devoured the pieces, swallowing them with grotesque relish.

The air thickened with despair, each scream tearing into my psyche, threatening to shatter my sanity. My chest tightened as though the weight of all their suffering pressed down on me. My knees buckled, but before I could collapse, the creature's malevolent gaze fixed on me.

I felt it then—a force, invisible but unrelenting, yanking me forward. My body resisted, but it was futile. It wasn't my body being dragged—it was my soul.

Helpless, I was pulled closer to the throne, closer to the monstrosity. Its mouth opened, jagged rows of teeth glinting like razors, and I felt it before I saw it—pain. Indescribable, all-encompassing pain. The Batibat's claws tore into me, ripping my right arm from my form. I screamed, but the sound was swallowed by the void, lost among the spirits' cries. The agony was like nothing I'd ever known, searing through every fiber of my being.

Tears streamed down my face as my vision blurred. The creature devoured my arm, savoring each bite as its eyes burned brighter, more sinister. My mind fractured, and I felt myself slipping away, madness creeping into the edges of my consciousness.

And then, its maw widened impossibly, its jaws descending upon me. I knew what came next—there was no escape, no salvation. I gave up, surrendering to the inevitable.

The last thing I felt was my head being crushed between its teeth. The world went black.

"Your only purpose is to become the vessel that will seal all the demons in this world."

The words echoed in the darkness, distant yet distinct. The voice was neither mine nor familiar, resonating with an ancient authority.

"But, Punong Babaylan, I don't want to be just a jar to trap evil! I want to eliminate it! I want to rid this world of all its darkness!"

The second voice was different—a man's voice, trembling with desperation, choked by sobs. His anguish bled into every word, a raw plea against fate.

I tried to open my eyes, to see the speakers, but nothing appeared. The world remained dark, shapeless. Am I dreaming? Am I dead?

I didn't know. All I could do was listen, caught in this liminal space, unable to tell if it was a memory, a prophecy, or something far worse.

The darkness enveloped me, stripping away all sensation until I felt like I was drifting in nothingness. There was no up or down, no sound or touch—just a disorienting void. And then, from the depths of that emptiness, a voice resonated—a deep, guttural sound that reverberated through my very core.

"I am reborn! Amaritaklob, terror of slumber!"

The voice echoed with malevolent triumph, each word sending shivers down my spine. It was a voice that spoke not just with sound, but with a presence that pressed against my mind, commanding attention and instilling fear.

Amidst the echoing proclamation, I discerned other voices—familiar voices. Alyssa's and the man's, their tones reverent, almost worshipful.

"Master, your return heralds a new age of darkness."

"We are yours to command, O Amaritaklob."

Their voices were clear, distinct, and filled with a fervor that chilled me to the core. They weren't speaking to me or even acknowledging my presence. I was an outsider, a witness to their unholy alliance with this ancient evil.

My mind raced, trying to grasp the situation. Alyssa, once a trusted coworker, and the man I suspected of Mr. Reyes's murder—were they now servants to this creature? How did they become entangled in this nightmare?

"I, the Nightmare Witch, offer you my essence, O Amaritaklob," Alyssa's voice trembled, a mixture of fear and reverence. "Grant me power to serve you faithfully."

"And I, the Nightmare Babaylan, swear allegiance," the man's voice followed, filled with desperate resolve. "Use me as your instrument to bring chaos upon this world."

Their words echoed with a twisted loyalty, pledging themselves to a being whose presence felt suffocatingly ancient and malevolent. The air around me felt heavy, charged with dark energy that threatened to crush my spirit.

I strained to move, to scream, to resist, but I was trapped within my own body, powerless against the scene unfolding before me. The darkness pressed in, closing off any escape, any hope.

"You, Misham," the Amaritaklob's voice boomed suddenly, cutting through the submissive declarations. "You will be my vessel, the conduit through which I shall reign."

I felt a cold grip tighten around my soul, pulling me closer to the throne where the creature sat enthroned in blood-red splendor. Fear clawed at my insides, a primal terror that threatened to overwhelm my sanity.

"No," I managed to choke out, my voice barely audible against the overwhelming presence of the Amaritaklob. "I won't..."

But my protests were drowned out by the chilling laughter that filled the chamber, a sound that resonated with centuries of malice and hunger.

"You have no choice, mortal," the creature's voice hissed in my mind, searing with icy clarity. "You are the key. You will unlock the gates, and chaos will reign."

Panic surged through me, desperation clawing at my thoughts. I struggled against the invisible force pulling me closer, but it was futile. The Amaritaklob's power was absolute, its will inexorable.

As darkness began to swallow me whole once more, I clung to a sliver of defiance, a flicker of hope that refused to be extinguished.

"I won't let you," I whispered, my voice trembling with defiance and dread. "I won't..."

But even as I resisted, I felt the tendrils of darkness closing in, dragging me further into the nightmare from which there may be no awakening.

The void trembled as the sound of chains rattled, accompanied by the eerie flapping of fabric, as if a great seal had been disturbed. A warmth bloomed at the top of my head, faint at first but growing stronger, a sensation that shattered the suffocating nothingness. Then, a brilliant light pierced the darkness, descending upon me like a falling star.

The oppressive void transformed, replaced by a surreal, otherworldly realm. Everything around me shimmered in shades of purple: trees with luminous lavender leaves and trunks as dark as midnight, grass in a gradient of violet hues, rivers coursing with liquid amethyst, and mountains cloaked in indigo mist. Above, the sky resembled a cosmic tapestry, a swirling galaxy of purples and pinks that seemed impossibly close, as though I could reach out and touch it. It was both breathtaking and unsettling—a dream world that felt alive, pulsating with its own rhythm.

Before I could fully comprehend my surroundings, an enraged voice thundered across the expanse.

"What is happening here?!" the Amaritaklob roared, its voice shaking the very ground beneath me.

The sharp, familiar voice of Alyssa, now laced with panic, joined in. "What are these chains and fabrics?! What is this place?!"

I spun around, my heart hammering in my chest. There, bound by pulsating purple chains and strips of shimmering fabric, was the monstrous Amaritaklob. Its grotesque form writhed in fury, its six horns glowing faintly, while Alyssa and the criminal stood beside it, similarly restrained. The sight froze me in place, a storm of emotions raging inside—confusion, terror, and an inexplicable flicker of relief.

"It's you! You did this, Misham!" The Amaritaklob's voice sliced through my thoughts, dripping with malice and accusation.

"I… I don't know what you're talking about!" I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. My body trembled, my mind struggling to process what was happening. Wasn't I already dead? How was I here?

The creature's laughter echoed like a death knell, filled with venomous rage. "You don't even understand your own power, do you? When I devoured your soul, I glimpsed your memories—your pathetic ignorance. But ignorance will not save you, little Babaylan Pampalit."

The words struck me like a physical blow. Babaylan Pampalit? The term was unfamiliar, yet it resonated deep within me, stirring something buried.

Alyssa's eyes widened, her expression shifting from shock to terror. "A Babaylan Pampalit… in this generation? Impossible!"

"This is your fault!" the criminal spat at her, his voice a venomous snarl.

"I… I didn't know!" Alyssa's voice cracked with desperation. "If I had known he was one, I would've never let him be the vessel!"

Before she could utter another word, both Alyssa's and the criminal's heads exploded in unison, a violent eruption of blood and gore. The sound was deafening, the sight horrifying. Their lifeless bodies collapsed, leaving behind an eerie silence.

I staggered back, my legs weak beneath me, my breath coming in shallow gasps. The Amaritaklob turned its burning gaze on me, its rage palpable.

"You dare trap me in this wretched mindscape?" it bellowed, its voice triggering tremors that rippled through the ground. "I swear, once I escape, I will rip you apart!"

The ground beneath the creature cracked, and more chains and fabric strips erupted, entwining its grotesque form like a cocoon. They constricted tightly, rendering it immobile, its power suffocated by the strange bindings.

Just as despair threatened to overwhelm me, a soft, soothing voice called out. "You are safe now, child. You need not fear any longer."

I turned toward the source and saw a woman materialize out of the shimmering air. She radiated an ethereal beauty, clad in a flowing white robe reminiscent of ancient Babaylan attire. Her entire being exuded a soft, white glow, her presence calming yet commanding.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice trembling as I took an instinctive step back. Despite her serene appearance, the horrors I'd witnessed made it impossible to trust anything.

"I am but a remnant," she said gently. "The last echo of a Babaylan long gone. I have no power to linger here for long, but I am here to guide you, my descendant."

"Descendant?" The term felt foreign on my tongue.

"You carry the bloodline of the weakest yet most powerful kind of Babaylan—one who bridges the mortal and divine," she explained, stepping closer. Her touch was featherlight as she placed a finger on my forehead. Warmth spread through me, a sensation both comforting and overwhelming.

"But your bloodline is not alone. You must awaken the dormant power within you—the ancient bloodline that courses through your veins. Only then will you stand a chance to survive the catastrophe to come."

Her words filled me with equal parts hope and dread.

"Goodbye, my last descendant," she whispered, her voice tinged with sorrow. "May you find the strength to rise."

With that, a surge of white energy burst from her touch, flooding my senses. The world around me dissolved into blinding light, her final words echoing in my mind:

"Survive."

I slowly blinked my eyes open, the familiar sight of the cracked ceiling above me greeting me. I was back—the abandoned hospital where everything had spiraled into madness. For a moment, I stared at my arms, running my hands over them, expecting to find evidence of the attack—the scratches, the wounds—but there was nothing. Not a single mark. As if everything that happened was nothing but a vivid dream.

Weakness still clung to my body, a lingering weight in my limbs, but slowly, I pushed myself up into a sitting position on the cold floor. My surroundings came into focus. The entire area was empty. The altar sat at the center, flanked by candles, casting eerie flickers of light. The security guard—gone. The bodies of Alyssa and her boyfriend—the criminal—also vanished. Even the statue of Amaritaklob had disappeared. The bloodstains, however, remained, soaked into the cracked tiles and walls, dark and chilling against the purple hue of everything else.

Relief washed over me, washing away the sheer terror that had consumed me just moments ago. I was safe—for now.

But before I could fully comprehend what had happened, a sudden flash of information crashed into my mind—hundreds, thousands of memories and pieces of knowledge flooding in all at once. It was overwhelming, disorienting. My head throbbed, sharp and painful, and dizziness threatened to pull me back under.

Yet, amidst the chaos, clarity began to form. I understood. I finally knew what had been left hanging in the air during that haunting encounter.

My ancestors—long forgotten—came from a lineage of Babaylan Pampalit, an ancient and rare type of shaman. There had only been six Babaylan Pampalit in the history of the Philippines, and all of them traced back to my bloodline. I was the seventh. What set us apart wasn't our power to simply perform exorcisms, but our unique ability to seal evil beings—something no other Babaylan could do quite like us.

It wasn't a mere exorcism. No, our ability required something more sinister. Unlike others, we didn't simply drive out the evil. We absorbed it, letting the malevolent force possess us—only to seal it inside our own bodies. The drawback was immense. Every time we performed this act, we became weaker. Without others to assist us—without a community of shamans to support the process—we were helpless. That was the reason we were seen as the weakest of all the Babaylan, easily forgotten and left to history's shadows.

But even within this fragile line, one of us stood out—Dayang Kaluwalhatian. She was unlike any of the others. While every Babaylan Pampalit could seal using their bodies, she had discovered another method—a sealing done through the mind.

The key was a Spiritual Crown—an ancient relic that connected one's consciousness to the spiritual realm. Dayang Kaluwalhatian had learned of this from a mysterious figure—someone from Huaxia, a traveler who guarded the trade routes between the southern sea and the distant lands. The traveler practiced Buddhism, and through them, Dayang Kaluwalhatian learned to create a Mind World, a dreamscape where evil beings could be sealed without physically possessing someone. She could summon them, but it required physical contact—something tangible to complete the ritual.

Yet, the Mind World sealing wasn't fully explored before she was killed. She'd died before she could unlock all its possibilities. The knowledge, however, had been passed down—to me.

But there was a tragic reality. Every Babaylan Pampalit who had ever sealed more than ten or twenty evil beings... had died. The fear was that if they didn't die, those sealed evil spirits might somehow escape, wreaking havoc upon the world once more. The only way to ensure they were forever bound was to let their souls pass into the afterlife, where the Goddess Magwayen would guide them to Sulad, the sacred place where spirits were meant to find peace. However, any spirit that tried to resist would be banished—drowned in the depths of Sulad's waters, lost to the endless void.

Before Dayang Kaluwalhatian herself was slain, she had used a fragment of her own soul to trap all the evil spirits she had sealed into the Mind World. Her soul—divided—remained within the dreamscape, unable to fully join the afterlife. Only if someone from her bloodline could awaken their Babaylan Pampalit ability would they be able to unlock this Mind World and speak to her trapped essence.

I was that person.

The weight of this knowledge crashed over me in waves. I wasn't just another ordinary shaman—I was the last living descendant of a bloodline long forgotten. My ancestors were more than healers or exorcists; we were the keepers of something ancient and dangerous. My power—the power to seal evil—was unique, but it came with a curse. I would need help to fully harness it, to survive the forces that had been unleashed.

But how could I possibly do this alone? Where would I even begin? The questions swirled in my mind, a whirlwind of confusion and fear.

Just then, the piercing wail of sirens sliced through the stillness—urgent, insistent, signaling the arrival of law enforcement. Panic surged through me. I needed to leave, and fast.

I scrambled to my feet, dizziness threatening to pull me back down. My eyes darted around, searching for my bag—the one thing that had to be untouched. My heart pounded as I stumbled back to the room where I had been tied. And there it was—my bag, lying on the floor where I had left it.

With a wave of relief, I grabbed it, slinging it over my shoulder. Then, without a moment's hesitation, I bolted toward the back exit of the hospital. The door creaked open, and I slipped out into the night, my heart pounding in my chest. Tall grass swayed around me, concealing my form. I moved low, crawling through the terrain until I reached the outskirts of the building.

The cool night air hit my face, and I finally allowed myself to take a deep breath. I was free—for now. But the knowledge I carried, the weight of my heritage, and the terrifying encounter with the Amaritaklob… it was a burden I couldn't shake off. I had awakened something ancient within me, something that had been dormant for centuries. And with it came a destiny I couldn't escape.