A Stilled Harp,

Literary: Where Is It?

10/05/2019 08:25:00 PM Media Center 0 Comments





I quietly sat in the corner, trying to imagine how it feels like to be left alone in the dark. There’s a great number of reports coming from the village that mysterious creatures came to roam around the area. According to witnesses, some are wide toothed, winged, some have faces that are covered with fresh flowing blood while some held a knife in their hand. From 125, the village’s population had a sudden drop to 50. It meant losing a great number of men, women, children and the elderly, not to mention a large number of animals seen with a slit throat in these past few weeks.

Am I sure of this task? As a paranormal expert, well, I must be. But the only difference is that I won’t be dealing with ghosts.
Mythical Creatures like the Aswang, Tikbalang, Tiyanak are now the main targets of my search.

Right beside me, stood a grandfather clock, whose pendulum sounds echoed in the deserted living room. Frighteningly, every tick probably counts the remaining seconds of my life, while its every tock represents my heartbeat before I die. I looked around and saw scratched sofa parts scattered, books of unknown authors sprawled across the floor, the once magnificent chandelier lay crushed down, dusty on the floor. No doubt, this place has become a safe haven for demons.
Ignoring the pendulum’s sound and creepy thoughts that crossed my mind, I took the knife from my pocket and stood. I am a Paranormal Expert. I shouldn’t he scared. But despite these encouragements, I couldn’t deny such creepy thoughts to cross :
Ghostly echoes snapped through my throat,
Howling bellows buzzed through my ears,
Talons scratching sharply made my skin cold as ice

Briskly walking, I prayed silently as I turned into a nearby room to search. I veered the door open and breathed deeply, making myself ready in case of a horrific sight. But it wasn’t what I expected.
Everything in the room is in order. The old bed‘s covers are neat, the books on the shelves remained untouched and the cool, still air told me that this place has been inhabited before.
However, something bothers me.
It’s the blood stain on the window.
Never had I seen this kind of sign before.
Does it mean that someone has been killed in this place before? Was he or she possibly killed by a monster?

You must be thinking if I’m shuddering right now. Well, I do.
Only one way to find out if that is really blood or not. I slowly went close to the window, and with my finger, tried to scrape the blood on it. It was scary to find that it wasn’t dry, which means that it’s still fresh, and the murdering thing just happened a few minutes ago. Frightened more than ever, I decided to turn back and leave this room.
Unfortunately, the door was locked.

Did I, myself, lock the door?
Or did someone else do it?
No. It can’t be.
Turning back to the window, I was hoping I would be able to escape through it.

Looking at it again, I think I see more blood on that window. I balled my fists in fright.
Only if I could break the glass . . .
Only if I could kick the door open . . .
Killing my nerves, I rummaged through the closet to look for something hard or metallic. But another sight made my nerves burst.

On the corner of the shelf, was a human skull lined together with the severed heads of a dog, carabao, ducks, and other animals killed in these past few weeks.
Reaching for a metal bat on the corner, did I really hear something, or was it just my imagination? I looked across the shelf.

Everything is in order. Nothing in here.
Look up. . .
Still nothing.
Except, I haven’t looked behind . . .

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