Filipino Vampire Page 2

Before we go any further, I want to share a letter with you that I found when my mum was out getting drunk and fooling around with dudes from Pearl Harbor. Yes, I looked through her stuff, but what else does a bored kid do when they're home alone? Anyway, I remember finding it in her closet, under a stack of “educational” magazines. The letter kinda just fell out from between some sticky pages. I don't have the thing on me. I didn't save it. But it's in my memory in bits and pieces. I think you'll find it interesting. Enjoy.

  I gathered the gang and went to that weird church again. Something truly strange is going on up there. Everyone wanted to drink under the bridge, but I said NO. They listened. They always do. And that's why I love my friends. They always do as I say. All these cars headed for the church. We followed on foot. Some of us said forget it and stayed behind. Guess who? Right. Jim and Lisa. Said they were too spooked by the church and preferred to go back and get drunk under the bridge. It was just the two of them there, and I'd bet dollar to donuts drinking wasn't the only thing they were doing.

  To hell with him. I always knew he was scum. People telling me he liked me – LIES. Him calling me all the time, saying how he's there for me, how he hated you-know-who for leaving me. All LIES. Everything out of his mouth. But that night I said screw it. Let him gets AIDS. Oh, you didn't know? Yup. Lisa's got the HIV. I could tell Jim all about it. Save his life. But...nahhh.

  We reach the church. Me, Ca'leen, and Mr. Skinny-ass Fernando. See? Now here's a guy I could see myself getting it on with. Disgustingly skinny, yes, but at least he's nice. Respectful. And he's getting his degree in accounting. So I think that's a good thing. Whenever I think of accountants, I think of lots of money. So that's covered, yeah, but it would be nice if I could maybe put some meat on his bones. I don't wanna be humping no skeleton. His hips must be like daggers. Whatever. It's all right. I can change him.

  Fernando was getting scared. He wanted to turn back, but I kept him there by touching his arm and telling him everything was okay – that I needed him – needed his help. And it worked. That's the thing about this guy: you touch his arm, and he's like putty in your hands. Like I said, my kind of guy. One time at work he got drunk and got to talking to me, started telling me how long he's been single, how much he misses being hugged. I slapped him. I mean, someone had to man him up. He started crying, but then I touched his arm, and he stopped. He had his eyes on me that whole day. He even walked me home. I felt like a teen again. I didn't kiss him goodnight. Not yet. Too early for that kind of stuff. I have to wait a bit. Lead him on a bit. Wait for him to get to the boiling point.

  There were ten rich cars parked outside of the church. We ran behind each one, making our way closer to the open doors. Inside, people wore everyday clothes, all standing up with their hands in the air, chanting something in Latin, I think. Or it might've been French. I don't know. Some dead language. The stench of wet dogs surrounded us, and we coughed into our arms. The people in the church started grumbling, moving here and there. Someone was screaming – it was a little girl. Some kid. No one I knew.

  I told the guys let's move up to get a closer look, but they were freaked out by what they saw next.

  A cage was lowered from the ceiling. In it was a big aswang – FAT – the biggest I had ever seen. She was like half elephant. He breasts went down to her knees, and she was stepping on them like she didn't care. After that, the guys ran off. Just VOOT! Gone. They waved me to follow them, but I gave them the finger for wussing out. Others ran out from the church, screaming, disgusted. They jumped in their cars and drove off. One lady puked out the window as she went full speed. Threw up all over Fernando (now that was a laugh). The priest or grandmaster or whatever he was told those remaining that THEY were worthy to see the sacrifice, and that the others were weak and stupid.

  The ground shook and a hole opened up. Long black things – black strings – shot out and took hold of the cage. Everyone started hollering. The priest told them to SHUT UP. More black strings flew out from the hole, then the chain holding up the cage broke, and the whole thing went into that hole.

  Seconds later, and the cage goes flying out of the hole, like it was tossed out by the Devil herself. The cage crashed through a church window and landed on car. The alarm went off. In the cage was the skeleton of the aswang, and I was glad to see it...glad to see it dead. These things think they can just come into our towns, eat whatever they want, do whatever they want, didn't have jobs, didn't pay rent. It's not fair.

  The priest yelled out to me to stay away from the cage, but I didn't listen. I had to get a closer look. I wanted to spit on its bones.

  And I did.

  I had a talk with that priest.

  I think I might join in on their little club.

  So that's Mum's letter. After I read it, I made damn sure I put it back the way I found it – between the right sticky pages. I heard of that church before – all that weird talk about demons and ghosts. But far as I knew, no one went there. They avoided it. Scared of it. How to put this...it was like walking on private property, but be careful, because the landowner was crazy. He'll shoot ya.

  And if you're wondering, that was the only strange letter I found. There were others before it, sure, but they involved the usual love crap. After that night, I wasn't able to find any more letters. Maybe she caught on, I don't know. It was right about that time that Mum started going out earlier and coming home later. Was she still getting unusual with those army men? Or maybe it was with curious church folk?

  I didn't understand what my mum had gotten herself into.

  Honestly, I still don't.