The climb continued, each step taking them deeper into the heart of Mount Cristobal. As they climbed, the trees began to thin, and soon they found themselves in a clearing bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight. The air was cooler here, a refreshing change from the muggy atmosphere they had left behind.
“This is perfect,” Claire said, dropping her backpack on the ground. “We can set up camp here for the night.”
The others nodded in agreement, their spirits lifted by the sight of the open space. Marco took charge, directing the group as they began to unpack their gear. Jessa and Ben worked together to pitch the tents, their laughter ringing out as they struggled with the poles. Luis, however, remained quiet, feeling a strange sense of foreboding settle over him.
As they set up their campsite, Luis glanced around the clearing. The trees stood like sentinels around them, their branches swaying gently in the night breeze. But it wasn’t the beauty of the landscape that unsettled him; it was the oppressive silence that seemed to blanket the area, broken only by the sound of their movements.
Once the tents were up, the group gathered around a small fire, the crackling flames casting flickering shadows on their faces. They roasted marshmallows, trying to shake off the eerie feeling that clung to Luis. Marco launched into another tale about the Tikbalang, igniting a mix of excitement and anxiety in the group.
“Legend has it that the Tikbalang lures travelers into the forest, leading them astray,” Marco said, his eyes glinting with mischief. “If you encounter one, it’ll make you lose your way, and you’ll wander forever.”
“Stop it!” Claire laughed nervously, her smile faltering. “We’re here to enjoy ourselves, remember?”
“Exactly,” Jessa chimed in. “Let’s not ruin the mood with scary stories. We’re all together, and there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Luis couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. As the night wore on and the fire dwindled, he excused himself to relieve himself a short distance away from the campsite. “I’ll be right back,” he called over his shoulder, stepping into the shadows of the trees.
The moment he ventured away from the firelight, the atmosphere shifted. The forest felt denser, the shadows growing longer as the moonlight struggled to penetrate the canopy. Luis walked a few steps deeper into the woods, finding a spot away from the clearing.
As he finished, he suddenly felt an unsettling sensation, as if the forest had gone completely still. The sounds of the night—the rustling leaves, the chirping of crickets—had vanished. An unnatural silence enveloped him, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
Then he heard it—a low, guttural sound, distant yet unmistakable, like a growl rumbling deep within the earth. Luis froze, his heart pounding in his chest. “Just the wind,” he muttered under his breath, though the words felt hollow.
He took a cautious step back toward the campsite, but the growl came again, louder this time, sending a shiver down his spine. It was not a sound he could easily dismiss.
Panic clawed at his throat as he turned to head back, but the shadows seemed to close in around him, twisting and shifting in a way that made him feel trapped.
Luis picked up his pace, the trees looming over him like dark giants. Suddenly, he heard another sound—a rustling in the underbrush. He stopped, his breath hitching in his throat. The air grew colder, and he could feel something watching him, lurking just beyond the edge of the moonlight.
“Guys?” he called out, his voice trembling. “Is anyone there?”
Silence answered him, thick and suffocating. Then, in the distance, he heard a whisper, soft yet chilling, like a voice carried by the wind. It echoed through the trees, filling him with dread.
“Luis…”
His name, spoken in a mocking tone, sent a jolt of fear through him. Adrenaline surged, and he turned to run back toward the campsite, but in the darkness, he lost his sense of direction. The trees twisted around him, their branches reaching out like skeletal hands.
Then he saw it—a figure standing between the trees, its outline indistinct yet imposing. Luis stumbled back, his heart racing as he realized he was not alone. The creature stood tall, its head tilted unnaturally as it watched him with gleaming eyes that reflected the moonlight like a predator.
The stories rushed back to him, and he felt a cold wave of fear wash over him. The Tikbalang—was it real? Before he could think, he turned and ran, branches clawing at his arms as he fled through the forest.
“Help! Help!” he shouted, desperation fueling his voice. But the forest swallowed his cries, the darkness wrapping around him like a suffocating blanket.
Luis ran blindly, dodging trees and leaping over roots, but he could feel it behind him—something fast, something relentless. The growl echoed in his ears, a promise of dread that quickened his pulse. He could hear its hooves pounding against the ground, each beat sending tremors through his body.
In his panic, he tripped, falling hard against the forest floor. Pain shot through his leg, but he pushed himself back up, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He had to keep moving, had to escape whatever was hunting him.
He dashed deeper into the woods, the shadows thickening around him. The growling grew louder, and the whisper returned, taunting him with his name. “Luis… where are you going?”
With no clear direction, he stumbled further, and suddenly he broke into another clearing. But instead of safety, he found himself surrounded by an eerie stillness. The moonlight illuminated the area, revealing strange markings on the ground, deep impressions that resembled horse hooves—massive, unnatural prints that seemed to spiral around him.
Fear gripped him, and he backed away, the realization dawning on him that he had wandered far from the campsite. He turned to leave, but the shadows shifted, and the creature appeared again, its form clearer now. It stood on long, slender legs, its body covered in dark fur, with a distorted face that grinned unnaturally.
Luis let out a cry, panic overtaking him as he turned to run once more. He could hear the creature’s hooves pounding behind him, the sound growing closer. He pushed himself harder, desperate to escape. The trees blurred around him, their shapes becoming grotesque in the dim light.
But as he sprinted through the forest, Luis felt a strange pull, as if the trees themselves were drawing him deeper into their embrace. He stumbled again, the ground giving way beneath his feet. He fell into darkness, a pit of despair swallowing him whole as he lost consciousness.
WHEN dawn broke, the campsite was bathed in a soft, golden light. The first rays of sun filtered through the trees, illuminating the clearing where the four friends had settled down for the night. Claire was the first to wake, stretching and yawning as she stepped out of her tent.
“Guys, wake up!” she called, her voice bright and cheerful. But as she glanced around, her smile faded. “Where’s Luis?”
Ben emerged from his tent, rubbing his eyes. “He went to pee last night, remember? He should be back by now.”
Jessa and Marco joined them, concern etched on their faces. “He’s taking a long time,” Jessa noted, glancing toward the trees. “Maybe we should go look for him.”
“Yeah, let’s check the area where he went,” Marco suggested, his brow furrowing with worry. “He probably just got a little lost.”
They made their way to the edge of the clearing. There's a sense of unease settled over them. The sun shone brightly, but the forest felt thick and oppressive, as if it were holding its breath. They called out for Luis, their voices echoing through the trees, but there was no response.
“Luis!” Claire shouted, her voice tinged with panic. “This isn’t funny!”
They ventured further into the woods, retracing Luis’s steps. As they walked, they noticed the ground beneath them was marked with strange impressions—large, deep hoofprints that seemed to spiral around them, leading deeper into the forest.
“What the hell is this?” Ben muttered, kneeling to examine the prints. “These don’t look like any animal I know.”
“Maybe they’re just from a horse or something,” Jessa suggested, though her voice lacked conviction. “There’s no way Luis would wander off that far.”
“But what if he’s hurt?” Marco said, looking around nervously. “We need to find him!”
As they followed the hoofprints, the atmosphere grew increasingly unsettling. The trees loomed overhead, their branches twisting into grotesque shapes that seemed to reach out toward them. A chill ran down Claire’s spine, and she shivered despite the warmth of the sun.
“Luis!” she called again, her voice trembling. “Where are you?”
But the only answer was silence, thick and suffocating. The deeper they went, the more they felt the weight of the forest pressing down on them. The sunlight filtered through the branches in beams, casting eerie shadows on the ground.
“Do you think he could have gone this way?” Marco asked, pointing to a narrow path that veered off the main trail.
“I don’t know,” Jessa replied, uncertainty creeping into her voice. “It’s worth checking.”