The Barrio of Sitio Pula had always been a quiet, sleepy place, tucked away deep in the mountains. Surrounded by thick forests and rolling fields, the small village was known for its eerie stillness at night. Some say it was the silence that made the village peaceful; others whispered that it was this very silence that allowed the creatures of the night to roam freely. Few dared to speak of them openly, but everyone in Sitio Pula knew about the Tiktik.
The Lopez family was new to Sitio Pula. They had moved from the bustling town to the quiet barrio in hopes of a simpler life. Raul, a quiet, hard-working man in his mid-thirties, and his wife, Rosa, had three young children. Elena, the oldest, was thirteen and curious about everything. The twins, Mario and Marco, were only eight, and their energy filled the small, rundown house that they had rented at the edge of the village. Their new home sat at the edge of the woods, isolated from the rest of the barrio. It was a humble place, with wooden walls that creaked in the wind and a tin roof that clattered with every gust. But Raul liked it. He thought it was cozy, even with the strange chill that seemed to seep into the house at night.
The Lopez family had been in Sitio Pula for only three nights when the strange sounds began.
The first night, Rosa was the first to notice. She lay in bed beside Raul, staring at the old, weathered ceiling. The house was cold, much colder than it had been earlier that day, and the wind outside was unusually strong, whistling through the cracks in the wooden walls. She hugged her blanket tightly and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling that had settled over her.
And then, she heard it.
A faint clicking sound, somewhere in the distance. It was soft at first, like the tapping of branches against the window, but then it grew louder.
"Tik... tik... tik."
Rosa's eyes snapped open, her heart pounding. She listened closely, hoping it was just her imagination, but the sound continued, steady and deliberate.
"Tik... tik... tik."
She nudged Raul, who was already half-asleep beside her. "Raul, do you hear that?"
Raul grunted, shifting in bed. "Hear what?"
"That noise... Listen." She held her breath, waiting for the sound to come again. A few seconds passed, and then it returned.
"Tik... tik... tik."
Raul sat up, frowning. The sound seemed to be coming from outside, near the window by the back of the house. He got up, grabbed the flashlight by the bed, and made his way over to the window. Peering through the glass, he saw nothing but darkness. The thick trees loomed just a few feet from the house, their shadows long and twisted in the pale moonlight.
"Probably just an animal," Raul muttered, trying to sound calm. "This place is full of them. Go back to sleep."
Rosa nodded, but she couldn’t shake the chill that had settled over her. She lay back down, pulling the blanket up to her chin, her ears straining to catch any other noises. The night was quiet again, but the strange tapping sound stayed with her, echoing in her mind long after it had faded.
The next morning, Raul and Rosa exchanged uneasy glances over breakfast. The children, thankfully, hadn’t noticed anything strange. They chattered and laughed, too excited about exploring their new home to sense the tension in the air. But Rosa could tell that Raul had felt it too, the strange energy in the house, the unnatural chill.
As they finished breakfast, their neighbor, an old woman named Lola Pilar, appeared at their front door. She was a small, hunched woman with sharp eyes and a face weathered by time. Her wrinkled hands gripped a walking stick, and she watched the family with a quiet intensity.
"Good morning, Lola Pilar," Rosa greeted her politely, trying to hide her unease. She had met the old woman only once before, but something about her made Rosa feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was the way Lola Pilar's gaze seemed to pierce through her, as if she knew things that no one else did.
"Good morning, anak," the old woman replied, her voice low and rough. She stepped inside, looking around the small house with a wary expression. "Did you hear it last night?"
Rosa’s heart skipped a beat. "Hear what?"
"The sound," Lola Pilar said, her voice barely a whisper. "The tik-tik-tik."
Rosa froze, a chill running down her spine. "Yes... we heard it. What... what is it?"
The old woman’s face grew grim. "The Tiktik," she said. "It’s a creature that roams these parts, especially at night. Some say it’s a kind of Aswang, a monster that feeds on the living. It taps on the windows to find its prey, to lure them out into the night. You must be careful, anak. Once it finds you, it doesn’t leave easily."
Rosa's stomach twisted with fear. "But... we’re new here. Why would it come after us?"
Lola Pilar shrugged, her eyes never leaving Rosa’s. "It doesn’t care who you are. It’s drawn to life, to warmth. And it’s hungry. Very hungry."
Rosa felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Raul standing beside her, his face pale. "Is there anything we can do? To keep it away?"
The old woman nodded. "Keep the windows closed at night. Don’t leave the house after dark. And if you hear the tik-tik-tik, don’t go looking for it. Stay inside, and pray that it loses interest."
Raul and Rosa exchanged a nervous glance, but they nodded, thanking Lola Pilar for the warning. The old woman left without another word, disappearing into the shadows of the trees that surrounded the house.
That night, they followed her advice. Raul made sure all the windows were locked, and he even placed a piece of wood against the door, hoping it would keep anything out. The children were tucked into bed early, their innocent laughter and chatter soon replaced by the quiet, steady breathing of sleep. But Raul and Rosa couldn’t rest. They lay in bed, wide awake, listening to the silence that filled the house.
And then, just as the clock struck midnight, they heard it again.
"Tik... tik... tik."
The sound was louder this time, sharper, as if whatever was outside was right by their window. Raul felt Rosa grip his hand, her fingers ice-cold. He wanted to tell her it was just the wind, just a stray branch tapping against the window, but the words caught in his throat.
"Tik... tik... tik."
The noise moved, shifting from one side of the house to the other, slow and deliberate. Raul felt his heart pounding in his chest, each beat echoing in his ears. The sound was unmistakable, a soft, eerie tapping, as if something was searching, probing, trying to find a way inside.
Raul reached for the flashlight, but Rosa grabbed his arm. "No," she whispered. "Don’t go near the window."
He hesitated, feeling the weight of her fear settle over him. They lay in silence, listening as the sound moved closer, the tik-tik-tik growing louder, sharper, until it felt like it was right beside them, just inches away.
And then, as suddenly as it had started, the noise stopped.
The silence that followed was even more terrifying, heavy and suffocating. Raul and Rosa held their breath, waiting, listening for any sign of movement. But the night remained quiet, still. They didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe, until the first light of dawn crept through the cracks in the walls.
When morning finally came, they felt a strange sense of relief, as if the daylight had washed away the fear that had settled over them. But the memory of the night lingered, a dark, heavy presence that refused to fade.
Raul and Rosa didn’t speak of it, not in front of the children. They went about their day as if nothing had happened, but every now and then, they would exchange a glance, a silent reminder of the terror that lurked just outside their door.
As the day wore on, they tried to convince themselves that it was just their imagination, that the strange sounds were nothing more than the creaks and groans of an old house settling into its foundations. But deep down, they knew that something was out there, watching, waiting.
And as the sun began to set once again, casting long shadows across the fields, they felt a familiar chill creep into the house. The silence returned, thicker and heavier than before.