Another week passed, and the Lopez family’s nerves were stretched thin. Every night, the sounds returned, louder and more insistent than before. Tik-tik-tik. Scratch-scratch. The rhythmic tapping was always followed by those dreadful scratches against the wooden walls, as if the creature was clawing its way closer, creeping around their home like a predator.
Raul and Rosa barely slept anymore, lying awake, tense and terrified as the sounds echoed through their small house. Even the children, Mateo and little Maria, sensed something was wrong. They slept restlessly, sometimes waking up in tears after nightmares that they couldn’t remember in the morning.
During the day, Sitio Pula seemed strangely normal. The sunlight cast soft, warm glows over the trees and fields, making everything look almost peaceful. But the moment the sun set, the barrio’s real face showed—a place filled with whispers, shadows, and stories of things that lurked just out of sight.
One morning, as the family gathered around the table for a breakfast of rice and dried fish, Mateo finally spoke up.
“Papa, last night… I heard a voice outside my window,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Raul’s heart stopped. He had been so focused on keeping himself and Rosa calm that he hadn’t thought about how much this might be affecting the children.
“What did you hear, Mateo?” Raul asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
Mateo looked down at his bowl, his hands shaking slightly as he spoke. “It was soft, like a whisper. It kept saying my name… just over and over again. ‘Mateo… Mateo…’ And then it laughed.”
Rosa’s face turned pale, her hand flying to her mouth as she stifled a gasp. She looked at Raul, her eyes wide with fear.
“Did you… did you look out the window, Mateo?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
Mateo shook his head quickly, his face pale. “No, Mama. I remembered what Uncle Lito and Uncle Tomas said—that we shouldn’t look. So I hid under my blanket until it stopped.”
Raul placed a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder. “You did the right thing, Mateo. Don’t ever look. No matter what you hear, no matter how much it calls your name… do not look.”
That night, Raul decided they needed help. The strange sounds, the shadows, and now the whispers were becoming too much to bear. He and Rosa were desperate to keep their children safe, but they had no idea how. So, he went to the one person in the village who might have answers—the village healer, Nanay Mila.
Nanay Mila was an old woman with skin as wrinkled as dried leaves and eyes that held decades of knowledge and wisdom. She lived alone on the edge of Sitio Pula, in a small, ramshackle hut surrounded by herbs and strange charms made of twigs and stones.
Raul approached her with a mixture of fear and hope, clutching a small offering of rice and fruit as he knocked on her door.
“Come in,” her raspy voice called from within.
Inside, the air was thick with the scent of herbs and smoke. Nanay Mila sat on a woven mat, her eyes sharp and alert as she looked up at Raul.
“I know why you’re here,” she said before he could speak. “The Tiktik has come for your family.”
Raul swallowed hard, his heart pounding as he nodded. “Yes, Nanay. Every night, it comes closer. It scratches at our walls, whispers to my children… I don’t know how much longer we can stand it.”
Nanay Mila’s gaze softened, though her expression remained serious. “The Tiktik is a creature of darkness, a cursed being that feeds on fear and life. It can take many forms, and it hunts in silence, waiting for its prey to let their guard down. Once it’s chosen you, it won’t stop until it has what it wants.”
Raul felt a shiver run down his spine. “How… how can we protect ourselves, Nanay? Is there a way to stop it?”
Nanay Mila nodded slowly, reaching into a small wooden chest beside her and pulling out a bundle of dried herbs tied with a thin red string.
“These are protection herbs,” she said, handing him the bundle. “Hang these above every window and doorway in your home. The Tiktik hates the smell; it will keep it away, at least for a time.”
Raul took the herbs gratefully, but Nanay Mila’s expression grew darker.
“But be warned,” she said, her voice low. “These herbs will not keep it away forever. The Tiktik is clever, and it grows bolder with each failed attempt to enter. If you want to be rid of it for good, you must confront it… face it head-on.”
Raul’s stomach twisted at the thought of coming face-to-face with the creature that had haunted his family for weeks. But he knew he had no choice. For his family’s sake, he had to be brave.
“Thank you, Nanay Mila,” he said, bowing respectfully before leaving her hut.
That night, Raul hung the herbs as Nanay Mila instructed, above every window and doorway. The scent filled the house, a mix of earthy and sharp aromas that seemed to calm everyone’s nerves, if only slightly.
As night fell, the family sat together in the main room, their faces illuminated by the dim glow of a single lamp. They huddled close, speaking in hushed tones as if afraid to disturb the silence.
And then, as expected, it began.
Tik-tik-tik.
The sound was faint at first, almost as if it were coming from far away. But Raul knew better. The Tiktik was testing them, circling their home, trying to find a way inside.
Tik-tik-tik.
The tapping grew louder, echoing through the night like a heartbeat. Rosa clutched Raul’s arm, her face pale with fear. Mateo and Maria clung to each other, their small bodies trembling as they listened to the relentless sound.
But then, something strange happened. The Tiktik’s tapping stopped. The silence that followed was thick and suffocating, as if the air itself had been swallowed by the darkness.
For a moment, Raul dared to hope that the herbs had worked, that the creature had finally given up.
But then, a new sound filled the air—a low, guttural growl, so close it seemed to come from just outside their door. The growl was followed by a soft scratching, like claws dragging across the wood, slow and deliberate.
Rosa’s grip tightened on Raul’s arm as they stared at the door, their hearts pounding with fear. The scratching grew louder, more frantic, as if the creature were trying to claw its way inside.
And then they heard it—a voice, low and raspy, calling out from the darkness.
“Raul… Rosa… let me in…”
Raul’s blood ran cold. He knew that voice—it sounded like his own mother, the woman he had buried years ago.
“Raul…” the voice called again, softer this time, almost pleading. “Please… let me in. I’m so cold…”
Raul closed his eyes, forcing himself to ignore the voice, to shut out the sound of his mother’s familiar tone. He knew it wasn’t real; he knew it was the Tiktik, trying to lure him into opening the door.
But the voice grew louder, more insistent, filled with a desperation that clawed at his heart.
“Raul! Open the door! Please… I’m so cold…”
He felt Rosa’s hand on his shoulder, her grip steady and reassuring. She knew what he was feeling, knew how hard it was to ignore the voice of someone he had loved so dearly.
“We can’t let it in,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the creature’s cries. “No matter what it says… we can’t let it in.”
Raul nodded, swallowing hard as he forced himself to stay calm. He took a deep breath, focusing on the warmth of Rosa’s hand, the sound of his children’s breathing, anything to drown out the voice outside.
And then, just as suddenly as it had started, the voice stopped. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the faint rustling of the leaves outside.
The family sat in tense silence, waiting, listening for any sign that the Tiktik was still there.
But the night remained still.
After what felt like an eternity, Raul allowed himself to relax, letting out a shaky breath as he looked at his family, relieved that they had survived another night.
But deep down, he knew that this was only the beginning. The Tiktik was getting bolder, more desperate. And sooner or later, it would find a way in.
As dawn broke, Raul glanced at the herbs hanging above the door, hoping they would hold for another night. But a sense of dread settled over him, a feeling that no matter how hard they tried, the Tiktik would keep coming, growing stronger with each passing night.
And he knew, with a sickening certainty, that if they didn’t find a way to stop it, the Tiktik would eventually claim what it wanted—no matter the cost.