Gabriel awoke to a dawn that seemed to stretch forever. Sunlight filtered through the thin curtains, illuminating the shadows of his small, rented home. But instead of relief, the light brought with it an overwhelming sense of dread. The events of the previous night played in his mind like a horror film on loop. The Busaw had invaded his dreams, lurking in every corner, every shadow, and every memory.
He needed to do something. He couldn’t just wait for the creature to come for him again. After a restless night, filled with dreams of glowing eyes and scratching claws, Gabriel resolved to seek help. He needed to gather a group, to watch over the graves of the recently buried, to protect the living from the Busaw’s insatiable hunger.
After a hasty breakfast of stale bread and water, Gabriel made his way to the village square, where the locals gathered each morning. He approached a group of men sitting on a weathered bench, their expressions serious, their voices hushed. They were discussing something, and Gabriel’s heart raced with urgency.
“Excuse me,” he began, trying to project confidence despite the tremor in his voice. “I need your help. I want to guard the graves tonight. I’ve seen the Busaw.”
The men turned to him, their faces a mix of surprise and skepticism. One of the older men, a thin figure with a weathered face named Mang Telesforo, spoke first. “You’ve seen it? Are you sure? It’s not just a story for us to scare the children?”
“I saw it digging in the cemetery last night,” Gabriel replied, his voice steady despite the fear rising in him. “It’s real, and we need to protect the newly buried. We can’t let it feed on anyone else.”
The men exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from disbelief to concern. Finally, Mang Efrain, who had first warned Gabriel about the Busaw, spoke up. “You’re right. It is a danger. The Busaw grows stronger with each meal. If we don’t do something, it will only continue to haunt us.”
Gabriel felt a surge of relief at Mang Efrain’s support. “I want to gather a few men to watch the cemetery tonight. We can take shifts. If we stay together, we can drive it away.”
The men nodded slowly, and Gabriel could see the fear in their eyes. They had lost friends and loved ones to the creature. “We’ll do it,” Mang Telesforo said finally. “But we need to be careful. The Busaw is cunning.”
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the village, Gabriel and the men gathered at the cemetery, armed with makeshift weapons—sticks, shovels, and whatever they could find. They formed a small circle around the freshly buried graves, ready to defend against the creature that haunted their nightmares.
The atmosphere was thick with tension as darkness enveloped them. Gabriel could feel the weight of their fear pressing down on him, and he shared it with them. Every rustle of leaves, every whisper of wind felt like an omen, a reminder of what lurked just beyond the trees.
As night fell, they took turns watching over the graves. Gabriel was on the first shift with Mang Efrain, the elder sitting beside him, eyes scanning the shadows. “Do you really think it will come?” Gabriel asked, trying to sound braver than he felt.
“It will come,” Mang Efrain replied, his voice steady but low. “The Busaw cannot resist a fresh grave. It is part of its nature.”
Gabriel nodded, his grip tightening around the stick in his hands. They sat in silence, the night air heavy with the scent of damp earth and decay. Hours passed, and the village lay quiet around them. But in the stillness, Gabriel thought he could hear the distant sound of scratching, like claws against the ground.
“Did you hear that?” he whispered, glancing at Mang Efrain.
The older man nodded, his expression grave. “Stay alert.”
The night deepened, and the scratching sound grew louder. Gabriel’s heart raced as he scanned the shadows, searching for any sign of movement. The moon hung high, casting eerie shapes across the cemetery, but there was nothing.
Suddenly, a howl pierced the silence, echoing through the trees. It was a sound that sent ice coursing through Gabriel’s veins. The men beside them shifted nervously, their eyes darting to the sound’s source.
“It’s coming,” Mang Efrain said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Stay close.”
Gabriel felt a rush of adrenaline as the howling grew closer. The wind picked up, swirling around them, carrying with it the scent of earth and something foul. He could hear it now—a low growl, deep and resonant, vibrating through the air. It was a sound that chilled him to the bone.
And then he saw it.
Emerging from the darkness, the Busaw appeared, its grotesque figure illuminated by the pale moonlight. It was even larger than he had remembered, its long limbs moving fluidly as it approached the graves. Gabriel’s breath caught in his throat as he watched it, the creature’s yellow eyes glowing like lanterns in the dark.
“It’s here!” he shouted, raising his stick high, the fear giving way to adrenaline. The other men scrambled to their feet, brandishing their weapons, but Gabriel felt frozen, unable to take his eyes off the creature.
The Busaw paused, its gaze locking onto Gabriel. He felt a chill run down his spine as the creature seemed to assess him, its eyes narrowing with a predatory hunger. It was as if it could sense his fear, feeding off it.
“Stand together!” Mang Efrain shouted, trying to rally the group. “We cannot let it take anyone else!”
With a surge of courage, Gabriel stepped forward, his stick raised. “Leave this place! You are not welcome here!” His voice wavered, but he pushed through, the words feeling like a weak barrier against the horror before him.
The Busaw let out a low growl, its lips pulling back to reveal sharp, jagged teeth. It crouched low, ready to pounce, and in that moment, Gabriel felt a primal instinct to flee. But he forced himself to stay put, to face the monster that had haunted his every thought.
The men began to shout, waving their makeshift weapons in an attempt to intimidate the creature. The Busaw hesitated, glancing at the group, its yellow eyes flicking back and forth. Gabriel could see the creature’s muscles tense, and he knew it was deciding whether to attack or retreat.
Then, with a sudden roar, the Busaw lunged forward.
Gabriel’s heart raced as he prepared to defend himself, but before he could react, Mang Efrain swung his shovel with all his might. The weapon connected with the creature’s side, and a howl of pain echoed through the night.
The Busaw staggered back, its eyes wild with fury. It let out a guttural growl that vibrated through the air, and Gabriel could see the rage boiling beneath its skin. It was stronger than they had anticipated, and they were outnumbered.
“Stay back!” Gabriel shouted, trying to keep the others from rushing forward. The Busaw was more dangerous than they realized. It seemed to sense their fear, and with each passing moment, it grew more furious.
Mang Efrain swung again, but this time the Busaw was ready. It dodged the blow with unnatural agility, moving like a shadow. In an instant, it was upon Mang Efrain, its claws slashing through the air.
Gabriel screamed, but it was too late. The Busaw’s claws raked across Mang Efrain’s arm, tearing through skin and flesh with sickening ease. Blood sprayed across the ground, and Gabriel’s stomach twisted with horror.
“Run!” Mang Efrain shouted, trying to fend off the creature. But the Busaw was relentless, moving in for another attack.
Gabriel’s instincts kicked in. He grabbed the nearest man, dragging him away from the scene as the others scrambled to escape. They were all terrified, their faces pale with fear as they watched the horror unfold before them.
The Busaw was a blur of motion, its growls echoing in the night as it pursued them. They needed to regroup, to find a way to fight back. Gabriel led the way, searching for anything they could use as a weapon.
They stumbled upon a stack of wooden crates, and Gabriel quickly grabbed a heavy piece of wood, handing it to the man beside him. “We need to work together!” he shouted, trying to rally their courage. “We can’t let it take anyone else!”
The group gathered their courage and formed a line, weapons raised. The Busaw paused, its breath heavy, eyes locked onto Gabriel. It seemed to be considering its next move, and Gabriel took the opportunity to shout, “You can’t have us! This is our home!”
The creature snarled, a deep, rumbling sound that sent chills down their spines. But it hesitated, its yellow eyes flickering with something that almost resembled confusion. Gabriel knew they had to use this moment to their advantage.
“Attack!” he commanded, raising his makeshift weapon high. The group charged forward, swinging their weapons wildly. The Busaw recoiled, caught off guard by their sudden bravery.
But the creature was quick, darting away from their blows with a speed that left Gabriel breathless. It weaved between the men, striking out at anyone who got too close. Gabriel felt a rush of terror as the Busaw lunged for another villager, claws glinting in the moonlight.
They fought with desperation, as the Busaw's movements became a blur of dark shadows and yellow eyes. The creature was more agile and cunning than any of them had expected. It seemed to predict their moves, slipping between their attacks, toying with them. The villagers were no match for its speed, and panic started to spread like wildfire among them.
Mang Efrain, blood dripping from his wounded arm, gritted his teeth and called out, "Stick together! Don't let it separate us!"
Gabriel's heart pounded in his chest, his palms slick with sweat as he tightened his grip on the wooden stick. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to run, but he fought the urge. They had no choice but to stand their ground. If they let the Busaw overpower them, it would not only take their lives, but continue to terrorize the village, feeding on the dead—and the living.
The Busaw lunged again, aiming for one of the younger men at the edge of their formation. Its claws slashed through the air, and the man barely managed to dodge, stumbling back with a cry of fear. Gabriel saw his chance. He rushed forward and swung his stick as hard as he could, aiming for the creature's side.
The wood struck the Busaw with a sickening thud. The creature let out a screech of pain, its glowing eyes narrowing in fury. Gabriel could see the raw, unnatural hunger behind those eyes, and for a brief moment, he thought they had the upper hand.
But then the Busaw turned on him.
With lightning speed, the creature knocked Gabriel’s stick from his hands, sending it flying into the night. Gabriel staggered back, his heart pounding as the Busaw loomed over him, its breath hot and foul against his face. Its claws glinted in the moonlight, ready to tear into him.
Just as it seemed the end was near, a sudden burst of light exploded behind the Busaw. The creature recoiled, hissing in anger as the villagers held up torches, their flames flickering wildly in the dark. One of the older men, Tito Iñigo, had managed to grab a pile of dried wood and set it ablaze.
"Fire!" he shouted. "It fears the fire!"
Gabriel scrambled to his feet as the men thrust their torches forward, driving the Busaw back. The creature hissed and growled, its glowing eyes filled with hate as it backed away from the heat. The fire was weakening it—Gabriel could see the way its once fluid movements had become sluggish, hesitant.
"Keep pushing it back!" Gabriel urged, his voice trembling with both fear and hope. "We can drive it away!"
The men, emboldened by the creature’s retreat, pressed forward, their torches lighting up the night. The Busaw snarled, its yellow eyes darting between them, looking for an escape. The villagers shouted, their voices echoing through the cemetery as they formed a wall of fire.
For a moment, it seemed like they might win. The Busaw backed away, its snarls growing weaker, more desperate. Gabriel could see the fear in its eyes now, the way it flicked its gaze toward the dark woods behind the graves. It was looking for a way out, and it seemed that they had succeeded in forcing it to retreat.
But just as hope began to rise in Gabriel's chest, the ground beneath their feet trembled.
A low, guttural growl rumbled through the air, deeper and more menacing than anything they had heard before. Gabriel’s stomach twisted with dread as the sound echoed across the cemetery, coming from the graves themselves. The Busaw stopped retreating, its eyes flashing with renewed hunger. It wasn’t alone.
Suddenly, the earth beneath one of the graves began to shift. The men stepped back in horror as they watched the soil heave and crack. Something was crawling up from the freshly buried ground—something far worse than the Busaw.
Gabriel’s breath caught in his throat as a second creature emerged from the grave, its body twisted and decayed, covered in rotting flesh and tattered burial shrouds. This new creature was even more grotesque than the first Busaw, its limbs long and spindly, its face contorted into a gruesome snarl.
The two Busaw stood side by side, their eyes glowing in the dark, their hunger palpable. The villagers’ torches flickered uncertainly in the sudden wind that blew through the cemetery, and Gabriel felt his blood run cold.
"We're not dealing with just one," Mang Efrain whispered, his voice thick with fear. "There’s more."
Gabriel's heart raced as he realized the full horror of their situation. The Busaw they had been fighting was just one of many. The legends, the stories passed down through generations, had never mentioned how many of these creatures there were. And now they were facing more than they had ever imagined.
"We have to get out of here," one of the younger men, Paulo, stammered, his eyes wide with terror. "We can't fight them all!"
Gabriel’s mind raced. He knew they couldn’t stay in the cemetery, but they couldn’t just leave the newly buried dead unprotected. If they ran now, the Busaw would tear through the graves and feast on the corpses, growing stronger with every meal. And worse, if they didn’t stop them, the creatures would come for the living.
"We need to retreat, but we can't let them win," Gabriel said, trying to keep his voice steady. "We have to regroup, find a way to destroy them for good."
"But how?" Mang Efrain asked, his face pale in the torchlight. "We've never dealt with more than one before. What can we do?"
Gabriel thought for a moment, his mind racing as he tried to piece together everything he had learned about the Busaw. Fire seemed to hurt them, but it wasn’t enough to kill them. They were creatures of the grave, born from the earth itself, and they thrived on the flesh of the dead. There had to be something—some way to weaken them, to banish them for good.
"The graves," Gabriel said suddenly. "The Busaw are connected to the graves. They dig them up to feed, but maybe the graves are also their source of power."
The men looked at him, confused.
"What do you mean?" Mang Efrain asked.
"If we can stop them from returning to the graves—if we can consecrate the ground, make it holy again—they won’t be able to draw strength from the dead anymore. It might be enough to weaken them, to drive them away for good."
Mang Telesforo nodded slowly, his expression grim. "But that will take time. We need to protect the cemetery while we figure out how to do it."
Gabriel agreed, his mind racing with possibilities. "We can’t fight them head-on. But if we can keep them from feeding, we might have a chance."
The men exchanged glances, their fear palpable but mingled with a flicker of hope. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was all they had. And in the face of such unspeakable horror, it was enough to keep them moving.
"We’ll gather the rest of the village," Gabriel said, determination in his voice. "We’ll set up a watch, protect the graves, and figure out how to consecrate the ground. We won’t let the Busaw win."
The men nodded, their torches flickering in the night as they prepared to retreat from the cemetery. The Busaw watched them with hungry eyes, but for now, they kept their distance, prowling at the edges of the graves, waiting for their next opportunity to strike.
As they made their way back to the village, Gabriel couldn’t shake the feeling that they were running out of time. The Busaw were growing bolder, more dangerous with every passing night. And unless they could find a way to stop them, Gabriel feared that soon there would be nothing left of the village but graves—and the monsters that fed on them.