Gabriel Llanera had always dreamed of becoming a teacher. Growing up in the city of Davao, he had witnessed how education could change lives, and he wanted to be part of that transformation. When he graduated from university, he was filled with hope and excitement, ready to mold young minds and make a difference.
However, when the Department of Education assigned him to a small, remote town deep in the mountains of Mindanao, he was not prepared for the challenges that awaited him. The town, called Lamingan, was barely visible on the map, surrounded by dense forests and reachable only after a grueling bus ride and a two-hour hike. Gabriel had never heard of the place, and no one in his circle had ever been there.
Despite his doubts, Gabriel remained optimistic. He convinced himself that it would be an adventure—a chance to see a different side of life, to experience something outside the noise and rush of the city.
But Lamingan was unlike anything Gabriel had imagined.
The moment he arrived, he noticed something off about the town. The air felt heavy, thick with something unspoken. The locals, who greeted him with wary glances, seemed uneasy, as if they knew something Gabriel didn’t. Some whispered to each other as he passed by, their eyes avoiding his.
He chalked it up to being an outsider, a stranger from the city. It was only natural for them to be cautious around him. He smiled, trying to ease the tension, but the unease clung to him like a second skin.
Gabriel was assigned to live in a small wooden hut at the edge of the town. The hut stood on stilts and overlooked a forest that seemed to stretch endlessly into the horizon. The town’s head, an elderly man named Mang Efrain, told him that the nearest school was an hour’s walk away, and his job was to teach children from the nearby villages.
“It’s quiet here,” Mang Efrain had said, his voice low, almost a whisper. “Too quiet sometimes. But you’ll get used to it. Just be mindful at night.”
Gabriel had laughed nervously. “I’ve lived in the city all my life. I think I’ll enjoy the peace and quiet.”
Mang Efrain didn’t laugh. Instead, his eyes narrowed, and he said, “It’s not the peace you should be concerned about, teacher. It’s what lurks in the quiet.”
Gabriel brushed it off, thinking the old man was just trying to scare him.
That first night in Lamingan, Gabriel learned how wrong he was.
The sun set quickly in the mountains, casting long shadows that stretched across the village. By the time Gabriel had unpacked and settled in his small hut, darkness had already taken over the landscape. The wind howled through the trees, causing the leaves to rustle like whispers in the night.
Gabriel lit the oil lamp on his desk and sat down to write in his journal. The silence around him was overwhelming. No honking cars, no city lights—just the wind and the occasional chirping of crickets. As he wrote about his first impressions of the village, something caught his eye.
Outside the window, near the edge of the forest, a figure stood motionless. Gabriel squinted, trying to make out who it was, but the figure was cloaked in shadows, barely visible. He felt a chill run down his spine.
He stood up and moved closer to the window. The figure hadn’t moved. It just stood there, watching. Gabriel’s heart began to race. Was it one of the villagers? Maybe someone had come to check on him?
He opened the window and called out, “Hello? Can I help you?”
No response. The figure remained still.
Gabriel’s breath hitched. He didn’t know why, but something about the figure filled him with dread. The way it stood there, silent, almost...inhuman. He shut the window and drew the curtains, trying to shake off the fear creeping into his chest.
As the night wore on, strange noises began to echo from the forest. It started as a soft rustling, like someone—or something—was moving through the trees. Then, a low growl filled the air, deep and guttural, like an animal on the hunt.
Gabriel froze. His mind raced, trying to rationalize the sound. Maybe it was just a wild boar or a stray dog. But the growl...it didn’t sound like any animal he had ever heard.
He glanced at the door, making sure it was locked. The walls of the hut suddenly felt too thin, too fragile to keep out whatever was out there.
Suddenly, there was a knock.
Gabriel’s heart leapt to his throat. He stared at the door, his body frozen in place. The knock came again, this time louder, more insistent. His mind screamed at him not to answer, but his body moved on its own.
Slowly, he approached the door, his hand shaking as he reached for the handle. He hesitated, his breath shallow and quick. Whoever—or whatever—was knocking waited in silence on the other side.
“Who’s there?” Gabriel called out, his voice trembling.
No response.
The knock came again, but this time, it wasn’t just a knock. The door rattled violently, as if something was trying to break it down. Gabriel stumbled back, his heart pounding in his chest. The door continued to shake, the wood creaking under the force of the attack.
Then, just as suddenly as it started, the rattling stopped. The silence that followed was even more terrifying.
Gabriel stood in the middle of the room, his body trembling. He waited, listening, but all he could hear was the sound of his own ragged breathing.
Hours passed, though it felt like an eternity. Gabriel didn’t dare move. His eyes were glued to the door, half-expecting it to burst open at any moment.
Eventually, exhaustion took over, and Gabriel slumped into his bed, too tired to stay awake. His body ached with tension, and despite the fear that gripped him, sleep pulled him under.
He awoke to the sound of scratching.
At first, he thought he was dreaming, but the sound grew louder, more frantic. Something—or someone—was scratching at the walls of his hut.
Gabriel bolted upright, his heart racing. He grabbed the oil lamp and held it up, illuminating the room. The scratching was coming from outside, near the back of the hut. It was relentless, as if whatever was out there was trying to claw its way inside.
Fear coursed through him, but he forced himself to move. He crept towards the window, his hands shaking as he pulled the curtain aside.
What he saw nearly stopped his heart.
A figure—pale, thin, and unnaturally tall—was hunched over near the back wall, its long fingers digging into the wood. Its eyes glowed in the darkness, a sickly yellow that pierced through the night. The creature’s face was gaunt, its mouth stretched into a hideous grin, revealing sharp, bloodstained teeth.
Gabriel stumbled back, dropping the lamp. It shattered on the floor, the flame snuffing out instantly.
The scratching stopped.
For a moment, there was silence. Gabriel held his breath, praying that the creature hadn’t noticed him.
Then, a low growl filled the air, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching the door.
Gabriel’s body seized with fear. He scrambled into the corner of the room, his back pressed against the wall. The footsteps grew louder, closer. The creature was at the door now, its growling more intense, filled with hunger.
The door rattled violently once again, and this time, Gabriel was sure it wouldn’t hold.
Terror consumed him as he realized what was happening. This was the Busaw, the creature he had heard about in old stories—the one that fed on the newly buried dead, and sometimes, the living. It craved flesh, especially organs, and it was relentless once it caught the scent of prey.
And tonight, it had found him.
The door creaked, the wood splintering under the weight of the creature’s assault. Gabriel’s mind raced, searching for a way out, but there was none. He was trapped.
Suddenly, the door burst open with a deafening crack.
The creature stepped inside, its glowing eyes locking onto Gabriel. Its grin widened, a horrible, grotesque smile filled with malice.
Gabriel screamed.
When the villagers found him the next morning, Gabriel was huddled in the corner of the hut, his face pale and his body trembling. The door was still intact, and there was no sign of the creature.
But Gabriel knew what he had seen. And from that day on, the nights in Lamingan were never peaceful for him again.