Chapter 5: The Final Night
Gabriel had never been so exhausted in his life. His body ached, his mind was frayed, and the constant terror that had loomed over him like a shadow felt unbearable. For weeks, the village had guarded the cemetery, taking shifts with torches and crude weapons.
They had consulted every elder, every shaman, every religious figure they could find, but nothing worked. The Busaw continued to prowl the graves at night, their hunger for human flesh only growing stronger.
It had become clear to Gabriel that they weren’t just feeding on the dead—they were feeding on the fear of the living, too.
The villagers had tried everything—salt lines, prayers, even burning certain graves—but the Busaw always returned, relentless and ravenous. Gabriel was at his breaking point. He had come to this remote village to teach, to make a difference. But instead, he had found himself trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t escape.
On this final night, Gabriel stood at the edge of the cemetery, staring at the dark, twisted trees that encircled the graves. He could feel the presence of the Busaw lurking just beyond the shadows. The villagers were behind him, torches flickering in the wind, their faces grim and fearful.
"We can’t keep doing this," Mang Efrain said, his voice weary. "We’re losing people. Every night, someone else disappears. And now the children are seeing things—shadows, whispers in the dark. It’s like the Busaw is inside their heads."
Gabriel nodded, his throat tight. He had come to the same conclusion. The Busaw weren’t just hunting the dead—they were infecting the village itself, spreading their malevolent influence like a disease. If something wasn’t done soon, there wouldn’t be a village left to save.
"We have to make one last stand," Gabriel said, though he barely believed his own words. "We’ll guard the cemetery tonight, just like before. But if we can’t stop them this time…"
He didn’t finish the sentence. There was no need. Everyone knew what he meant.
The night deepened, and soon the sky was a blanket of blackness, broken only by the occasional flicker of torchlight. Gabriel felt the tension in the air like a physical force, pressing down on him. He could hear the nervous whispers of the villagers behind him, could feel their fear. It mirrored his own.
Suddenly, the sound of rustling leaves reached his ears. Gabriel tensed, gripping the wooden staff in his hands tighter. The sound grew louder, closer, as if something—or someone—was moving through the cemetery.
“Stay sharp!” Mang Efrain whispered, his eyes wide with fear. “It’s here.”
Gabriel swallowed hard and scanned the darkness. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing in his ears. Then, he saw it—a shadow darting between the trees. It was quick, barely visible in the dim light, but unmistakably the Busaw. Gabriel’s skin prickled with dread.
The creature moved closer, creeping through the cemetery, its low growl barely audible over the wind. Gabriel held his breath, waiting for it to reveal itself.
Then, with a sudden burst of speed, the Busaw charged.
The villagers shouted in panic as the creature lunged at them, its claws outstretched. Gabriel barely had time to react before the Busaw was on him, its yellow eyes glowing with malevolence. He swung his staff wildly, but the creature dodged the blow, slashing at him with its claws.
Gabriel stumbled back, pain flaring through his chest where the Busaw had scratched him. Blood soaked his shirt, but he forced himself to stay upright, gripping the staff tighter. He wouldn’t let this thing win.
The villagers rushed forward, their torches lighting up the night as they tried to surround the creature. But the Busaw was too fast, too agile. It danced between them, its claws flashing in the firelight, cutting down anyone who got too close. Gabriel watched in horror as one of the younger men was thrown to the ground, his chest torn open by the Busaw’s savage attack.
“Back!” Gabriel shouted, his voice cracking with panic. “Get back!”
But the villagers didn’t listen. They were too terrified, too desperate to fight. The Busaw moved through them like a dark wind, and soon the cemetery was filled with screams.
Gabriel’s head spun, his vision blurring as the pain in his chest intensified. He fell to his knees, gasping for breath, watching helplessly as the Busaw slaughtered the men around him. He could feel his strength slipping away, the world growing darker with each passing second.
Then, as if in a nightmare, Gabriel saw something that made his blood run cold.
Another figure stepped out from the shadows of the trees. It wasn’t a Busaw. It was human. The figure was tall, cloaked in black, with a face Gabriel recognized immediately.
It was Tito Iñigo.
Gabriel blinked, thinking he was hallucinating from blood loss. But no—the man standing before him was real. Tito Iñigo’s eyes gleamed with a strange light, and his lips curled into a smile that sent a chill down Gabriel’s spine.
“Tito… what are you doing?” Gabriel whispered, his voice weak.
Tito Iñigo didn’t answer. Instead, he raised his hand, and Gabriel saw something glinting in his grasp—a small, ancient-looking talisman. The moment Tito held it up, the Busaw froze, its glowing eyes locking onto the object.
Gabriel’s mind raced, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Tito Iñigo wasn’t fighting the Busaw—he was controlling it.
“You… you’re behind this?” Gabriel gasped, his chest heaving with shock and disbelief.
Tito Iñigo stepped closer, his smile widening. “You should have left, Gabriel. This village doesn’t need saving. It never did.”
Gabriel’s stomach churned with horror. “Why? Why are you doing this?”
Tito Iñigo’s eyes glinted with a cruel light. “The Busaw are the guardians of this land, Gabriel. They feed on the dead because that’s their purpose. But they also feed on the living, and that’s where I come in. With their power, I control this village. I control life and death.”
Gabriel’s heart raced as the full truth dawned on him. Tito Iñigo had been using the Busaw all along, manipulating the villagers, controlling the creatures for his own twisted gain. This was never about protecting the dead—it was about power.
Tito Iñigo crouched down next to Gabriel, his voice a low whisper. “You’re not the first outsider to come here thinking they can help. But you will be the last.”
Gabriel’s vision blurred, his body growing weaker by the second. He could hear the growls of the Busaw growing closer, smell the stench of death in the air. He knew he was moments away from becoming their next meal.
But then, in his final moment of clarity, Gabriel saw it—the talisman in Tito Iñigo’s hand. It was glowing faintly, pulsating with dark energy. And Gabriel knew what he had to do.
With the last of his strength, Gabriel lunged forward and grabbed the talisman from Tito Iñigo’s hand. The moment his fingers closed around it, the Busaw let out an ear-piercing shriek.
“No!” Tito Iñigo screamed, lunging at Gabriel, but it was too late.
Gabriel smashed the talisman against the ground, shattering it into pieces. A blinding light erupted from the broken shards, and the Busaw let out a final, agonizing wail before collapsing to the ground, their bodies disintegrating into ash.
Tito Iñigo stared in horror as his power crumbled before his eyes. Without the talisman, he was nothing. Just a man.
Gabriel collapsed, his vision fading as the world around him grew dark. He had done it. He had saved the village. But as he slipped into unconsciousness, one final, terrible thought crept into his mind.
What if there were more talismans?
Then, everything went black.
Gabriel woke up days later in a hospital bed, weak but alive. The villagers had found him after the fight, unconscious but breathing. Tito Iñigo had vanished without a trace.
Gabriel didn’t return to the village. He resigned from his teaching post and left, determined never to look back.
But even as he settled into his new life, far from the horrors of the Busaw, Gabriel couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t truly over. That somewhere, in the dark corners of the world, there were others like Tito Iñigo—men who controlled forces beyond human understanding, waiting for the right moment to strike.
And every now and then, when Gabriel closed his eyes at night, he could still hear the faint growl of the Busaw, echoing in the distance.