It had been hours since we heard it, but the fuzzy voice through the static still echoed in my mind. ...puso ng isla… sinaunang karunungan… …ang banal na ubasan… magdadala sa santuwaryo It's deep-cut stuff. Only someone born here would get it. And I knew it meant something. It meant refuge. I didn’t tell the others. Not even Caite. But she knew something was up. She kept throwing glances at me across the campfire like she was trying to read a book she couldn’t open. I gave her nothing. Not until we were alone, kneeling beside the gear pile under the tarp. “It’s in Panimo, the island's center,” I told her in a whisper. “Woodpine Valley University is located in there. A safe zone. But the only way in is through the old ossuary beneath the church.” Her mouth parted slightly. “How can you be sure?” “I grew up hearing stories from Lolo. ‘When the light is low, seek God below.’ He said it's a passage they used to say when hiding during storms. Or wars.” “And you just...
That night, we moved in the dark.Caite rolled up the maps and tucked them under her jacket. I packed the rations into my backpack, careful not to clink the cans together. My hands were slow, deliberate, like they knew this was the last time they’d touch anything here. Caite zipped up the last of the bags while I double-checked the load. We were leaving tonight. Just the three of us.Tito Weston stood by the edge of the clearing, arms crossed. His face was unreadable, but his eyes… they were tired in a way I hadn’t seen before. Not just sleep-deprived or worn thin from another chase through the woods. This was something deeper. Bone-tired. Soul-worn.“Everything’s here,” he finally said, voice rough. “Food, medkits, iodine tabs, lighter.” He walked over, pulled something from behind his back, and held it out to me. A compact silver handgun. Standard grip. Full mag. Clean. Reliable.“For protection,” he said.I hesitated for a second. Then took it.The weight settled into my palm like
On the sixteenth of April each year, the Fortalejo family would extend their invitations to their whole clan, including the ones who are not closely related to them. This is for celebrating the last day of the Pahinungod festival, which is a three-day feast that has been observed since the year 2047. It had been over three decades since Talia Fortalejo started their family tradition of gathering on this day as a gesture of thanksgiving to the gods and the ancestors who had come before them. It was also a way of honoring the rich history of the Segunda island and the bountiful harvest that sustained them. However, it is unfortunate that the true spirit of this gathering has gradually faded away over time. It used to be full of love, joy, and unity. Now, it's just an event where people only show off their expensive clothes and family jewelry. But most of all, people only came here to maintain their connection to none other than Aroñes Fortalejo, a name that is often whispered in hushed
The speed of the bus slowed down when it turned in another direction. The rocky grounds of the parking lot show that we finally arrived at our destination. We were all in high spirits as we walked through the dirt path into the deep forests of Mount Ampacao. Trixie started to harmonize with the music coming from the distance. The closer we got, the louder it became. The Night Cirque was just up ahead. Its large neon signboard beamed so brightly, successfully luring tons of people. The whistling sounds of the engine and the joyous screams of people on their roller coaster ride welcomed us when we entered the Night Cirque. The vibrancy of this place really pops out, especially the banderitas. Not to mention that this land is so wide, it even has an entire lot dedicated to the musical festival! The committees behind this event did an impressive job for making the whole place look enchanting and pretty exciting. A photo of us, featuring the stamped carnival logo on our wrists
Snow-like ashes fell from the sky. The night became more suffocating and foggy than before. If not for Trixie slapping my face, I would remain petrified like an idiot in the middle of haywire. Unfortunately, the only exit point was the entrance itself, so we ran as fast as we could, dodging fallen debris from ruined establishments and avoiding the flames as we made our way through the perya. We held each other so tight. I could feel our pulse resonating against each other. Our breathing was rapid and shallow as we tried to make sense of the chaos around us. All of my focus was interrupted, and everything else faded away as Trixie stumbled down to the ground, twisting her ankle in the process. I tried pulling her up, determined to help her walk, but each time we tried, we always caught off balance, causing her to cry out in pain. At that moment, I knew Trixie's injury was more serious than I initially thought. I glanced at her ankle and saw a deep laceration, caused by the
Wailing screams echoed in the distance, making my heart skip a beat. Shadows seemed to lurk in every corner of the old buildings that lined up the road leading to our rendezvous. The orange hues of the streetlights made it even more eerie, reminding me of the flames and chaos I had to endure earlier. I ran faster, but this only intensified the cold, crisp air slicing into my face like a thousand tiny daggers. Its pressure whips past through me, freezing my body in its grasp and draining the energy out of me. A faint sound stopped me from running. I rummaged through my purse. My phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with Shae's name. Hope surged through me as I answered the call. "Shae! Are you okay? Where are you?" I couldn't understand what she was saying. The volume of her voice was really low and choppy. I also think she couldn't hear me so I moved into a different spot. "Can you understand me now?" I asked. "Yes! Yes, oh my Gods!" She's on a total breakdown right
The mirror in front of me reflected the same fear in Trixie's eyes when I left her behind the booth. I turned on the faucet and let the cold water cascade over my skin. I tried so hard to scrub away the filth and blood that clung to me. Despite my efforts, I still couldn't get rid of the guilt that had settled deep within me. thud-thud-thud I honed in on the thumping sound from the girl's restroom. I thought about Trixie, about how she had been mauled by a zombie. I thought about Shae, about how she had become one of them. Their desperate cries for help echoed in my mind. It was a haunting reminder of what I had done. In my whole life, everyone has been waiting for me to slip up. This night was supposed to be me breaking free from their expectations. I can't believe I made another mistake. If only I had never suggested to escape the gathering, they would still be alive. But, now they're gone and I had to live with the fact that I'm the reason why they're dead. Panic gripped
Fear and desperation could lead us to do some stupid things. Every time I bumped into someone, they were not in their right minds to think — either they push you aside or hurt you outright. Help was almost impossible to find in times of catastrophe. So, when Caite appeared in front of me and hugged her, oh, I fucking regret that. My emotions carried me away — I even forgot how much I hated her. I was the first to pull away from the hug. My arms dropped awkwardly to my sides as I avoided her gaze. How could I look at her properly? Come on, me and my friends used to taunt her online for petty reasons—stupid jokes that spiraled into something cruel. I did so many horrible things to her, yet here she was, saving my ass like none of it mattered. To escape the thick silence between us, I bent down and picked up the portable hologram I had dropped earlier. My hands moved slowly, deliberately, as if dragging out the moment would somehow make this less uncomfortable. I slipped it into my b
That night, we moved in the dark.Caite rolled up the maps and tucked them under her jacket. I packed the rations into my backpack, careful not to clink the cans together. My hands were slow, deliberate, like they knew this was the last time they’d touch anything here. Caite zipped up the last of the bags while I double-checked the load. We were leaving tonight. Just the three of us.Tito Weston stood by the edge of the clearing, arms crossed. His face was unreadable, but his eyes… they were tired in a way I hadn’t seen before. Not just sleep-deprived or worn thin from another chase through the woods. This was something deeper. Bone-tired. Soul-worn.“Everything’s here,” he finally said, voice rough. “Food, medkits, iodine tabs, lighter.” He walked over, pulled something from behind his back, and held it out to me. A compact silver handgun. Standard grip. Full mag. Clean. Reliable.“For protection,” he said.I hesitated for a second. Then took it.The weight settled into my palm like
It had been hours since we heard it, but the fuzzy voice through the static still echoed in my mind. ...puso ng isla… sinaunang karunungan… …ang banal na ubasan… magdadala sa santuwaryo It's deep-cut stuff. Only someone born here would get it. And I knew it meant something. It meant refuge. I didn’t tell the others. Not even Caite. But she knew something was up. She kept throwing glances at me across the campfire like she was trying to read a book she couldn’t open. I gave her nothing. Not until we were alone, kneeling beside the gear pile under the tarp. “It’s in Panimo, the island's center,” I told her in a whisper. “Woodpine Valley University is located in there. A safe zone. But the only way in is through the old ossuary beneath the church.” Her mouth parted slightly. “How can you be sure?” “I grew up hearing stories from Lolo. ‘When the light is low, seek God below.’ He said it's a passage they used to say when hiding during storms. Or wars.” “And you just...
Ginny was gone. So was Carmen. Jia too.We stayed in our temporary campsite. Seb had just finished sharpening the edge of a wooden spear. Adrian kept pacing, muttering numbers and map coordinates like they were holy verses. Rory wouldn’t talk. Weston tried, but she stared right through him, like he was air.It was Caite who broke the silence.“We can’t just sit here and cry.”“Who’s crying?” Rory snapped.Caite didn’t flinch. “You, inside.”That shut everyone up.We spent the rest of the day like that—half grieving, half scheming. Chief Andy took stock of supplies while Brie and Mat cleaned what weapons we had left.The drone may be gone, but not our fight. They wanted blood? We were ready to give them hell.Seb pitched noise decoys. Adrian suggested mimicking old military distress beacons. Weston described pressure-triggered tripwires using broken mine casings. Everyone added something. It was messy, desperate, but alive. Something we hadn’t felt in a long time.Then came the questio
We rested longer than we should’ve. Trying to breathe—each breath heavier than the last. We couldn’t make the sounds we needed to. No one could cry, not even if they wanted to. The silence was loud enough.When the first light came, everyone decided that it's time to bury her.The ground was cold under my fingertips, and the air smelled like wet leaves. We didn’t even mark the grave. Just piled the earth over her body.Caite paced. She looked at the ground when anyone tried to say something about Ginny. I almost thought she was going to break again. Maybe I wanted her to. She was always the one with words for everything. Always the spark.Now... nothing.I didn’t know what to say either. I was starting to forget how.I stared at the spot where we left her—too much like something I should’ve done differently, but I couldn't do it now, could I?But then the windows behind us shattered before I could process it. I heard Tito Weston shout, but it wasn’t a call to action. It was a warning
The drone hovered just above us like an obedient pet, its whirring quiet enough to blend with the wind. No longer a threat, not since Adrian disabled its tracker. He gutted the thing’s surveillance feed too. Now, it only saw what we wanted it to see. It moved when we moved. Stopped when we did. We split into two teams. Adrian and the others stayed to protect the satellite. The rest of us were on supply duty—Chief, Tito Weston, Mat, Leo, Carmen, Caite, Ginny, and me. Every day was the same: scout, scavenge, and pray the creepers didn’t catch our scent. "You’d think the zombies would get tired after running nonstop," Mat grunted as we navigated a ruined highway covered in wreckage. He nudged a fallen sign with his boot. “Welcome to hell, population: us.” Caite snorted. “Do you ever stop talking?” “Not unless someone blows me up.” “Tempting,” I muttered. "Basta if I die, I want a burial where the creepers can’t find me. Drop me in the ocean or launch me into space.” "You’d
The distant moans of the undead became a constant reminder of our grim reality. Their decaying stench clung to the air as we trudged through the desolate streets. After the harrowing events of the previous day—bringing down one of those relentless drones—we knew time wasn't on our side. The military's puppets would be searching for their lost toy, and we had to act fast. In order to make our plan work and turn their weapon against them, we needed to scavenge for food, equipment, and supplies. But time really is a commodity we scarcely possessed. The frame of abandoned establishments silhouetted against the violet dusk, like a fossil from a world we no longer knew. The sun was already setting down again. Everyone needed a rest. And so, we set a camp in the middle of the broken road. Someone got the fire going, and everyone gathered around it. The flames crackled, but its warmth barely touched the cold that clung to our skin. I sat apart, a little farther from the group, hugging
The screams of the woman who was mauled by the creeps inside the falling bus kept replaying in my mind. She was literally right behind me, and her hands were within my reach, but I was too slow to move. Her daughter's eyes gazed at mine, and I could only pretend to look at the trees beside her. The way she looked and her non-stop sobs made me feel really anxious. The feeling of something blocking my airway came back in an instant. The bus driver and a stranger with an undercut pixie went to her side. I wanted to go there and offer my condolences to her mother, but the guilt I was facing right then ate all of my strength from the inside. I couldn't seem to move at all, and my body just stuck to the ground. A hand tapped my shoulder. It was Caite, and the first thing I noticed about her was the grey clothing strapped around her left arm. "How's your burn?" I asked. "Mildly painful, but I can manage," Caite replied lightly, touching it. "Ate Thilda helped me bandage it to prevent inf
Darkness—a hollow blank space that has nothing much to offer. Just like an emptiness that keeps expanding further and further as the universe continues to expand forever. They say the never-ending darkness instills terror in our lives, but with just one light, all of it will be gone, and I was right! At the end of darkness, there would always be light waiting for us to discover. A blinding white light, as if it's smiling at you, ready to swallow you. Spiraling shivers traveled across my body. What was I even doing there? Was I dead? Had I become one of them? I looked up at the light and witnessed how it turned fiery. The familiar smell of burned flesh lingered in the void. The hot atmosphere made me sweat and lose my breath, convincing myself that I was really dead and finally in my hellish afterlife. But a voice echoed, telling me to wake up. Not long after that, I regained consciousness. There I found myself in the midst of leaping flames that burned like a temper. I uttered a lo
As I sit beneath the canopy of a large tree, the gentle breeze picks up. The branches swayed, stirring the leaves above. Their edges fluttered softly against each other, creating a gentle rustle that gradually grew louder, enveloping me in a soothing embrace. It felt as though I was a leaf being gently swept away by the breeze. "Peace is always beautiful, isn't it?" The moment I heard his voice, my brief sense of comfort vanished. "You're here..." My eyes widened as I stared at him leaning against the tree. "Kuya, is that really you?" "It's been a while since you last called me that," he said with a playful smile, adjusting his position. Numbness consumed me — suffocating me. "Why did you do that?" My voice cracked, and I looked away. He chuckled. “Kailanman hindi ko sisirain ang mga binitawan kong pangako saiyo noon,” he said. His soft words caused my fists to clench. I gripped the grass tightly, almost as if I wanted to tear it apart. "“At ngayon, lalong nasira ang mga binita