1 Eyes In The Bushes

Klein squinted his silvery eyes, dazzled by the glare of the sun that flittered through the fine leaflets of the tamarind tree. It was summer vacation, and he was out playing in the meadow near his grandparents' house.

In one of its branches stood another boy with spiky dark brown hair brushed up like a porcupine. He was dressed in a simple black shirt and brown trousers; his back facing him while reaching at the center of a spider web.

"Caloi, how was it? Should I grab a bamboo pole?" Klein asked, brushing a loose strand of his midnight hair away from his eyes.

"No, I got it," Caloi said, standing on his toes, extending his arm to the best of what a nine-year-old could reach. "A little... bit... more."

Since this morning, they've been searching for the best spider in the meadow so they could enter the spider wrestling later in the afternoon. So far, they only caught two spiders, and they were inside the matchbox in Klein's pocket, but they looked small.

Klein held his breath as the twig Caloi was holding on to gave a slight creak. He feared it might snap, and that would be a huge problem if it did. To his relief, the boy's hand successfully closed around its target—an Asian hermit spider.

Caloi turned to him with a triumphant grin. "Got it—whoa!"

Klein's heart almost dropped to his stomach as Caloi flailed his arms and almost lost his balance. Thankfully, his friend managed to grab a sturdy branch and hugged it like a koala bear.

"Hey! Be careful, you idiot! That was close!" Klein scolded, glaring up.

The boy only flashed a fearless grin at him before climbing his way down and settled on top of the concrete fence beside the tree. Caloi was reckless, always doing dangerous stuff that could get them in trouble. Scars marred his sun-kissed skin, and Klein saw another mild abrasion on his arms from the sharp bark of the tamarind tree.

Klein's eyebrows pinched together, displeased. "You're bleeding."

"Oh, this? It's nothing," Caloi said, dusting the dirt off of his arm before bringing it to his mouth to suck the tiny trickle of blood. "Just put some spit on it and it would heal up."

As a son of a doctor, Klein knew that's not how it worked, even from a young age. Wounds should be washed with water and a mild soap. Then an antibacterial cream must be applied to prevent infection. He just kept his mouth shut, though.

'I'll just grab an ointment at home later,' Klein thought.

While his friend was busy cleaning his gash wound with his mouth, a rustling sound from nearby caught Klein's attention. It was coming from the thick bushes at the edge of the meadow they were playing at. Intrigued, Klein swiveled on his feet and walked closer.

"Klein? Where are you going?" Caloi asked, while playing with the spider he caught.

"I think I heard something."

"Maybe it's a wild chicken. There are lots of wild chicken here."

Great! It could be a red jungle-fowl laying an egg. A native chicken's egg was more delicious than the ones bought in stores. If they found its nest, it would be a jackpot.

"Klein, wait up!" Caloi leaped from the concrete fence and jogged after him. Being naturally athletic, he easily caught up.

The two of them made their way to the bushes, where the rustling continued. The white feathers scattered on the grass confirmed that there were wild chickens, so their footsteps turned cautious and lightweight. As they neared, however, the stench of a rotten flesh overwhelmed them.

Klein covered his nose while Caloi stepped in front of him. "What are you—?"

"Shush!"

Klein clamped his mouth shut. Unlike him, who was only visiting his grandparents in the province during summer vacation, Caloi grew up near Mount Cristobal—the so-called devil's mountain in the province of Laguna—so he knew the place better than him. When Caloi crouched down, Klein did the same.

"What is it?" Klein asked in a low voice.

"Dead chickens. Lots of them," Kaloi whispered back.

An indescribable chill ran down his spine. Klein shifted closer to his friend. He rested both his hands on Caloi's back and peered over his shoulder. He spotted the dead chickens' body in random places, or rather, of what's left of them.

Klein felt his stomach churn in disgust. The awful odor was coming from the intestines and leftover meat at the root of the feathers. It's as if a rabid dog attacked the chickens and shredded them.

"This is bad. We need to tell my uncle about this," Caloi said, standing up. "Come on. There could be demons or ghouls out here. Maybe what you heard was an aswang!"

"Eh?" Klein shot up as well and backed away from the thick bushes. "But you said aswangs only come out at night. They're like vampires, right? They're afraid of the sun."

"That was in the past. They upgrade too, you know?"

"What are they? Smartphones?"

Caloi scratched his head at the comparison Klein came up with. He grabbed Klein's wrist and started dragging him away in hasty steps. "No. Aswangs are like vampires and werewolves mixed together. They're humans that can transform into a huge dog with red eyes, and they will eat children like you."

"Why me? You're just a kid too. They'll eat you too!"

"They won't eat me. I'm strong. My uncle taught me how to slay monsters," Caloi said with a proud smile.

"Eh...? You're just making things up." Klein trailed after Caloi and listened to the tattle of his friend about monsters and creatures that didn't even exist. He didn't believe in them because he had never seen one. But every summer vacation, he always looked forward to the stories of his friend.

Now on a considerable distance away, Klein chanced one last glance to the bushes because it rustled again. His breathing hitched when a hairy clawed hand parted the bushes a little and revealed a pair of yellowish orbs that stared back at him.

Then a humongous head of a wolf lunged forward with a snarl.