Encircled by Witch Hunters. The ringing of bells. The words of banishment. Restricting chains. Emily’s shame.
Ligaya could do nothing as the blinding light tore her apart and dragged her pieces back into the void. The hands of darkness held tightly with no intention of ever letting go again.
With nothing other than a scattered mind left, Ligaya drifted through her memories.
The year-round warmth was made hot and sweltering by the humidity from the abundant rains so common in the Philippines. Plants grew vibrant, mainly a luscious green with various flowers and fauna adding color here and there. Birds and bugs filled the rainforest with their chirps and chitters.
Young Ligaya had come to a stop in the middle of the dirt road as she looked up at the rising sun barely peeking over the canopies ahead. Such illumination of the world brought wonder and awe to what kind of God could make this much beauty. Then a smack to the back of her head returned her to this mortal plain.
“Bilisan mo,” her mother demanded there be no stopping.
Ligaya tucked her head low to only stare at the ground as she obediently followed behind. They still had a few more miles to walk before they reached the town of Pag-asa and there was no time to dawdle. Ironic to name a place ‘hope’ when life was only poverty and strife.
They reached their destination within an hour and converged toward the market on the main street. Many others like Ligaya and her mother were already set up in the area. Those earliest always claimed the best spots. Never the earliest, never the latest, the two located a spot somewhere in the middle to the back. A blanket was laid out and their goods were placed on top which consisted mostly of sugar cane. Rice, beans, and chicken were often bartered throughout the day with very little exchange of money. These were how most days were spent, sitting and squatting for hours.
When the evening began with the setting of the sun, things were packed up, and they began to walk all those miles again to get back home. Night had fallen by the time they return. The long journey was tiring. Ligaya went straight to her room to prepare for the next day to come which would be more or less the same.
Like most every night, the terrible man came to her room.
In the morning, Ligaya packed for the walk to town like she always did without saying a word about what happened to her. She never spoke of what happened. And her mother never asked either, not seeming the least bit concerned about the terrible possibilities. Though, her mother had long since become callous to the difficulties of this life as her way to survive. Perhaps she was very aware of what was happening to her daughter but did not care. Or perhaps she was too afraid to acknowledge the truth knowing that there would be consequences for doing so. The man was important to their meager way of life as he tended their small farm. They might not have been able to survive without him. Either way, she was complicit. So, this would continue again and again.
Seasons changed from hot to hot and rainy. Heading into town remained a necessity but was not always a possibility as monsoons swept through the island this time of the year. Nature’s wrath made the walk far more difficult as roads were turned to mud, and selling was likely less lucrative since few people would be buying during a downpour.
The sky still dark but the sun soon to rise, Ligaya’s mother stood outside and checked the weather. Blackening clouds warned of a possible storm coming. Though, they were distant, and the wind blew the opposite way. That was enough for her to be willing to take the chance and go into town. If the rain came, then it came. She would rather get stuck there instead of missing a day of selling as poverty nipped at her heels. Bags were packed, and the two walked the miles.
By the time they reached the town, Ligaya’s mother already realized her misjudgment. The clouds might not have moved toward the home, but they did move to this area. There was no sun to draw people from their homes as a bleak shadow blanketed the day. And soon, rain would begin to fall.
Regardless, some fortune remained even with the setback. Others who would have come to sell did not show up on this day. That meant at least a little business was guaranteed with the little competition there was. Ligaya and her mother set up shop against a building, beneath a sunshade, and behind the cover of a parked wagon to protect them when the weather shifted.
It did not take long for a monsoon to hit the area. The rain poured down in buckets as the wind ripped. Some exchanges were still made, but for the most part, they sat quietly as the world droned chaotically with the force of nature.
“Ligaya,” her mother called.
Ligaya only realized then that she had been listlessly dreaming. Her mind returned and she quickly looked around to catch up with what was going on. She said, “Po?” to her mother before looking at another woman who must have been buying.
“Ibigay mo yung tubo,” Ligaya’s mother instructed.
“Opo,” Ligaya acknowledged and got to her feet, gathering the purchased bundle of sugarcane.
The woman, with an umbrella in hand only intended for her use, began to walk. Ligaya stepped in line behind with nothing to protect her from the squall. She was soaked and chilling to the bone by the time they reached the house. At least it was not so far. The cane was given over, and she began to run back quickly to find shelter where she could dry off.
Feet splashed in the many mud puddles as she hurried. The road was practically a puddle itself as water covered most of the surface. Heavy drops scattered the sheet and rushing streams further distorted the ground. The rain was also blinding and covering her head with her arms and hands tightened her vision even more. Ligaya could not see where she was actually stepping. That was when her foot went forward but found no landing. Her whole body began to fall straight down into an open hole.
By instinct, Ligaya reached her hands and caught the edge before plummeting to her demise. Her heart beat fast with relief to still be alive. Alive? she wondered.
She did not drag herself out to safety as thoughts of her life slowly crushed down. The poverty. The neglect. The abuse. This was just an endless cycle that had no escape insight. It would just keep going and going, and she would only fulfill the need for survival and not actually be able to live. She was not truly alive at all. This was just hell that she had accepted and become numb to, believing there was no way out. Now, she hung over her escape from this terrible world. All it would cost was her life, a life that she did not even truly want; she realized now. And not like anybody would honestly care if she just disappeared. So, she let go to be enveloped by blackness.
That was the first time Ligaya enter this void. She had drifted for so long. Years might have passed. No. There was no might about it. Many years did go by. And they could have gone on forever into eternity until time ceased. But …
There was a garble of words that made no sense, yet they called to Ligaya, and she listened. However, her attempts to determine them failed. Whatever was being said just sounded like gibberish. They were from a language that she did not know. But then there was one that opened her eyes.
Aswang stuck out to her. With the word spoken, she could understand more and more with the repeat of it. Aswang … …. vampiric witch …. ……… . Aswang …. pointed …… teeth … bat wings … Aswang … Aswang … The thing about Aswangs is, the more you say Aswang, hell, the more you just think Aswang, the more you call an Aswang to you.
The world of darkness that had long since surrounded Ligaya was disrupted by a soft orange glow. She peered into the distance seeing movement and hearing more words being spoken. They drew her closer, though, she stayed just outside the ring of light created by a large number of candles. There, she found a chair that she curled up on and began to watch five youths her age playing a scary game of telling ghost stories.
How they found joy in their anxieties made Ligaya jealous. How badly she wanted to play with them. But more so, she was sad because she never was able to play as they did when she was … alive. That was when she realized she was dead. For how long, she did not know. This world, as she looked around the room, was foreign to everything she knew.
The darkness seemed to beckon her into the void that she had just left. Shadows like wraith’s hands reached, lightly grasping, softly pulling.
Ligaya shook her head to rid away her sorrows, and the force released her. Dead or not, she was here now somehow. Maybe she was an Aswang conjured up by their game. That did not matter. She wanted to have fun, so why not be a part of this experience? Give them something that would truly scare them. Just a little joke that would make herself smile. She just needed the opportunity.
A few more stories were told when the chance came. One of the girls, a redhead, needed to use the bathroom and left the safety of the group. So, Ligaya came up with a story to tell. She was certain it would cause a fright.
However, Ligaya was nervous to commit. She had somehow picked up the language without explanation but worried she would fumble over these new words. She was also a ghost and did not know if they would even be able to see her. And she worried just to worry because she barely talked to anybody before. But she needed to do this for herself and before the other girl returned. Without any more hesitation, right after two candles were blown out, she approached the circle of light. All heads turned toward her with perplexed expressions.
“What?” Ligaya asked.
“Why are you standing over there?” the tall girl asked having mistaken Ligaya for the redhead.
“Oh.” Ligaya smiled, not having expected this but took advantage. “My story will be more impactful this way.”
“We did skip around a bit,” one of the guys brought up, “but I guess it is your turn.”
Ligaya …
“A group of friends was sitting around some candles when one of them wandered off to use the bathroom. A few more stories were told between those that still remained. Eventually, the other friend returned to tell her own story. The thing is, as she told the story, she stayed just far enough in the shadows that nobody could actually see her. They stared curiously wondering where this was going. Then—”
As she brought her story to the most dramatic moment, the toilet was heard flushing.
Feet stomped quickly and the redhead emerged out of the shadows in a sprint, rejoining her friends in the circle of light. She claimed loudly, “No monsters got me.” All attention was drawn to her.
Then they all looked back to who they thought was the redhead. Ligaya smiled wide and began to laugh loudly at the looks on their faces. She was so happy that she stumbled backward into the dark and fell on her butt. Screams filled the house, and the lights were quickly turned on. They looked around the room and searched the house, but though Ligaya never left, they could not find her, not able to see her anymore. At least, for now.
That was the first time Ligaya met the five of them. And from then on, she grew closer to the few that could see her and wanted to know her. As well, she spent a lot of time discovering the two sides of this new world, the Living Realm that was so far changed, and the Dead Realms that she had now become a part of. Yet, she never separated herself long from the group. She did question why that was. Did she bind herself to them as they were the first people to acknowledge her? Or was she merely bound to them by that game they played? Either way …
Ligaya had wandered through the streets of Darkess Noir. She wandered through the parks. She wandered through the forests in the area. She needed to. To travel. To go. Just like she did back in the Philippines. Clearly, those long walks to town had made their impression on her soul. Moving from here to there seemed to be her way of remedying any pressing emotions that came up. Yet, unlike those lonely days when there was nobody there to listen to her, she found that others followed after so they could get the chance to offer their ears.
Emily and Marcy stood a short distance away after having finally found Ligaya following her disappearance some hours ago.
Emily spoke, acting as an advocate, “Stop worrying about Rachael.”
“I promise you,” Ligaya emphasized, “I’m not worried about her even a little.”
“Well, don’t be mad at her either,” Emily asked.
Ligaya did not immediately retort, proving she was mad. Then she became dismissive, “Whatever. She hates me. Not everybody has to like me.”
“She doesn’t hate you,” Emily defended against the idea.
“Being cleansed is annoying,” Ligaya begged to differ with her remark.
There was no arguing against the matter which, though was not hateful, did come from a place of distrust. Instead of making excuses, Emily acted supportive from her neutral position, “I’m sorry. I’m trying to accommodate both of your feelings, but this must be harder on you. Just know that as long as you’re bound to even one of us, you’ll always be able to return. And Marcy and I aren’t ever giving up our connection.”
That connection existed even now in this void. What was like five threads of light attached to Ligaya’s heart. Through them, she could sense something beyond this blackness. There was danger. Gunfire. Shield shattering. An explosion. Skin scorched. Head cracked and neck snapped. A knife thrust with deadly purpose. Someone cherished was about to die. Eyes opened.
Shaw drove the blade down at Emily with no one to stop him. Or so he thought. Hands appeared and gripped his bicep and forearm, holding his attack back. The tip of the knife was no more than a hair away from being embedded into the Witch’s skull.
He did not know what happened, or who was there. They were not the novice or even the redhead because this person was too strong. And they could not be the Apostate because she should still be unconscious.
Emily knew who. Tears began to well in her eyes at the sight of Ligaya as her form fully materialized.
This interloper did not matter. Shaw was so close, and he would not lose the chance. He let his rage empower him and pushed the knife slowly forward. Ligaya found herself struggling to keep control of him. Something needed to be done or else he would escape from her hold and kill.
Emily readied to move through the pain that was keeping her there. But, now so close to him, she noticed the Stigmata in his chest and understood what it was. Maybe she could get away before he broke loose. But that would only prolong her life by minutes at best. He would still be a threat wanting her dead. His life had to end now.
Emily grabbed hold of the metal spike and pulled with what strength she still had. Shaw recognized his vulnerability was being threatened which drove his strength higher. Ligaya held even harder, but her grip was slipping. Olivia rushed over intending to help Emily get away but saw what she was doing and began to pull out the spike, as well, without question. The metal was fixed tightly into his flesh by the thorns that also stabbed Emily’s and Olivia’s hands, embedding deeper into their palms the tighter they squeezed. But they never let up. Only centimeters of length were loosening by the seconds.
Shaw was overpowering Ligaya faster than the Stigmata could be removed. But he broke free even sooner by throwing his arm back causing her to stumble. He then swung forward to yank out of her grip as he brought the knife down again on both those in front of him.
A hand anchored into his shoulder with sharp claws, slowing his plunge enough for Ligaya to lunge forward and grab hold again, locking his arm down. Marcy stood on the other side of Shaw, furious. Her free hand reached around him as she, too, took hold of the spike and began to pull. It ripped out from his chest. The forced separation from the host created a blast of pressure that caused the women to stagger, stumble, and fall backward. Shaw’s body dropped limp immediately. And the spike was thrown into the air.