TIAGONG BANDIDO

Image Source: I Morales from Pinterest

“Pakatandaan ninyo: malibang kainin ninyo ang laman ng Anak ng Tao at inumin ang kanyang dugo, hindi kayo magkakaroon ng buhay.”

Father Leeroy’s booming voice from the pulpit seems to rattle all the holy figures inside the small stone church in this town. All ears are eager to listen and all eyes are permanently affixed on him throughout the hour of worship. Though not entirely part of any priestly order but claims that he study theology under the supervision of intelligent friars, Padre Lee proves that even without an Abito, an ordinary man can still preach the gospel of the Lord. It only takes one soul whose spirit is stronger against his own flesh. Upon arriving at our town and start serving Missa to the people, everything has change in our secluded community.

With his imposing height and natural gift of gab, each words he utter easily penetrate the minds of people of San Roque like a key coated with slick voluminous lubricants. Once the priest turn it, everyone becomes his new flock; meek sheep that found their shepherd that promise guidance towards the green pasture.

Thus the Church of San Roque was finally established. That’s when all the problems starts to surface from the nether.

It was Sunday in the morning right before the Sun breaks the horizon and scatter its blaze when I found out something. The vagabond that goes by the name of Tiago who becomes a regular by stander in the church for alms begging suddenly grabbed my arm as I leave the church after the Missa. The strong grip of his calloused hands and the glare coming from his single black eye (as if he was a Bungisngis minus the fact that seems to forget to smile nor to laugh) froze me from my track without any display of struggle.

“Hijo. I need to talk to you. I know you notice it too.” His voice is raspy and coarse just like what I expected from a man like him in ragged clothes and donning thinning Salakot that covers most of his face.

“W-what do you mean? P-please let me go!”

Instead of loosening his grip, he tighten it more until I felt the rough callous on his palm scratching the skin of my forearm. His fingers are now crushing my flesh.

“That priest you welcome in your town, he preach nothing but eating flesh and drinking blood.”

As I thought, I am not just one who notice it. I am no Bible scholar though I am familiar with the verse that refers to eating the flesh and drinking the blood of Kristo for eternal life. Of course you can’t take it literally unless the friars are actually promoting cannibalism. Text in the Bible are puzzling and meant to be symbolically. I know for sure that even the priest can’t even understand all of them either.

But something is really off with hearing the same old Homily on flesh and blood over and over again; as if Father Leeroy is trying to convince us with such tenacity to believe and commit to the verse; compelling us to do the act though it is not clear if rhetorically or figuratively.

Curiosity got the best in me so I followed Tiago down to his abode; an old decrepit manger cramped with farm animals and the reeling aroma of their waste and refuse.

“No wonder flies follow you like they are your alipores.” I gagged while trying to fight the urge to expel the tapsilog, ensaymada and crème de late coffee I ate for breakfast.

“You’ll get used to it. This is only my cover afterall…” He responded as he tinker something inside the wooden crates stacked in the far corner of the manger.

“I need to confirm my intuition that the priest is not human. You are going to help me to find it out.”

Several latches and bolts hidden in the crates are unlocked by his deft hands. The creaking sound of metal and steel in tight friction startled the animals that made them run away from him. When he open the compartment, a sudden jolt came right in my chest. For sure like Father Leeroy, Tiago is not just an ordinary man at all.

Inside those compartments are guns. Lots of them. Pistols, rifles and even a double barreled shot gun; loaded and waiting for any hand that will pull their trigger.

“W-wait…this must be a misunderstanding. Are you going to use that guns to him? Are you a bandido?!”Violence is the last thing that I wanted to get immerse to. Sure there is this lingering thought that the priest might be a fraud; tricking the people and brain washing them with charisma and distorted words of God. It is heinous but he can be foiled without using guns. Anything but guns.

“Hmm…so you fancy that blade is better than guns? Are you a knife fighter then?” He sarcastically replied with a menacing smirk drawn on his thick lips. He then reloaded his shotgun with his single hand just to make fun of my reaction.

“Don’t worry hijo. This is necessary. If my hunch is right, your priest is probably a Gabunan.”

“Gabu what?”

“The oldest of all Aswang…also the most cunning and strongest among the visceral suckers and eaters.”

That was a bold claim. You can’t just point your finger and accuse a person that he or she is an Aswang in these day where truth and rumor overlaps with one another. Double it if you are accusing someone as prominent as a priest.

“That is why I need you Hijo. You will be my eyes inside the church. Especially the moon is waxing next week. Things will get bloody if we don’t act fast.”

That day filled my head with knowledge that for sure will haunt me for good even when I am asleep and my heart with fear that I need to contain for the meantime; a feat that will left me at the edge of my nerve each time I will enter the church and hear the preaches of Father Leeroy.  The instruction was simple but the taste of danger is almost there right at the tip of my tongue just by imagining the whole scenario: firing a Kwitis right at the very moment that Father Leeroy offer black chicks among his parishioner. That precise moment before they devoured it or else I might see a nightmare came to life as If the painting of Memling become a vivid, vicious reality.

And then I will run as fast as I can. Praying to San Roque that no fangs or claws awaits in every shadow that I passed by.

The day of Corpus Christi falls right exactly when the moon shine like a giant dime struck by white light. This same light wash the street with perpetual light as the devotee march towards the church which is the last station of their procession for the celebration of the divine body and blood of Christ.  Wearing nothing but white robes and veil, they queue silently enters the church leaded by Father Leeroy who is garbed in black flowing robed with red lining;  Why would he wear such clothing? I am not that sure whether it as a tell-tale sign of what’s about to come. So we proceed to the missa and fortunately it runs smooth without any hint of anomaly.

If this will continue, there will be no need for any guns and I can just tell to anyone that Tiago is a lunatic trying to efface the name of this priest that serve only his people and God despite the tedious theme of his sermon.

I was about to say my prayer of thanks to San Roque when Father Leeroy started the consecration. My prayer was put into halt as I found myself cursing my bad luck and the ineptitude of some angels. Instead of a white communion wafer that is raise in the altar, it was actually a heart; fresh, dripping and still beating. A newly rip organ that catching its last pulse before it becomes just a mass of uselessness.

“This is the flesh.”

Next is the chalice. Even with dim lights of candles, I can still see the smear of crimson on its rim the moment he raise it in the altar table.

“This is the blood.”

My hands are shaking as I hold on tightly to the firecracker given by Tiago to me. I am starting to fear the cold sweat in my palm might affect it but I can’t help it; the supposedly holy sacrament is now tainted with vile blasphemy of a mad priest. In this case, it is not the wolf that hides among the sheep. The shepherd himself is the wolf.

Now he is about to convert them all in the religion of flesh and blood.

“Receive this for you to eat the flesh and drink the blood of man.” He take a large silver canister and walk in front of the altar as he commence in giving the Holy Communion or perhaps its diabolic version.

“For Christ become man and therefore man is God. We must eat them to live!”

As he open the lid of the canister, black chicks coated in viscous fluid diffuse a nauseating smell inside the church.

I hate to say this but Tiago has damn good intuition. He even predicted that the people of San Roque will actually eat the black chick without any question. It was estupido for all I care. Haven’t they listening to old folks stories? Of how a mere man become a gargoyle as they eat the black chick from another Aswang.

“They are not dumb. They are partly desperate and partly dependent on others. Look how this town didn’t flourish like the rest of the towns. It is not because it is secluded; it is because the people want someone to lead them and to say what they should be done. They lack of initiative. They are the perfect example of a flock of sheep that can’t survive on its own.” Tiago said that day when I told him that the people will never eat the malignant chick.

Yet here they were, forming a line in front of Tiago and opening their palms to receive the seed of the devil itself.

With wobbly legs and a heart banging like the drum beats of a banda during fiesta, I ran outside the church and prepare the Posporo. As I strike repeatedly the match stick, a blast of wind knock the Kwitis in my hand. I ran and chase all the way back to front door of the church. When I finally lighted the wick of firecracker, I sense that someone is right in front of me. Someone large, looming and at the same time surrounded by darkness.

When our eyes met, the blood on my face grew cold and my mind went blank. I can’t think of anything and my legs betray my body’s instinct of fight or flight. All I can do is to stand there and get caught with its knife like eyes that as sharp as the protruding fangs on his lips.

Father Leeroy caught me. Perhaps my own heart will be the next for him to consecrate in the altar.

“Aren’t you going to receive the communion, Hijo?” He asked without his usual voice of authority and conviction. Now it only echoes hunger. An unquenchable one.

“I-I…I can’t Padre. I haven’t confessed yet…” The clammy sweat all over me makes my guilt apparent. My body due to terror is betraying me.

“Then let me hear your sin…” He hissed as he approached me with his widespread arms.

And he actually did. The Kwitis finally blast off and soar high above the bright night sky before it send a deafening explosion; enough to distract Father Leeroy and to give a second to kick start my feet in the ground and run.

“Mi Deo, libera nos a malo.” I whisper the phrase over and over again while pushing my legs to not falter as I went from street to street to escape my predator. I am not sure how Tiago can hear or see the explosion knowing that the manger is actually a good kilometers away from his manger. But I trust that he will come right before I become a feast for the monster that now known as Father Leeroy.

I already went pass through the market down the rows of casa up until the empty fields of our neighbor. I am getting a boost of confidence as I feel that he is not tailing my track so I slow down a bit. My lungs are even complaining now so I need to take a full stop eventually.

That was a big mistake. Another strike of bad luck came to me when a huge shadow pass above me. In an instant Father Leeroy is once more in front of me but without its human face. He is now wearing the gruesome face of the man-eating being completely void of any human semblance. The leathery gray skin, the black slits on its yellow eyes and the oversize fangs on his mouth. This is what Tiago calls a Gabunan; the apex predator of all man.

“Your sin is unforgivable Hijo. Therefore you must be punished accordingly.” Floating above the ground, Father Leeroy moves forward as he retract black nails on its finger.

Just when he is about to rip my heart from my chest, a gunfire explosion put him in an abrupt halt. Looking on his chest, I saw a puncture wound still smoking and profusely expelling black blood.

“That’s a warning shot. My next bullet will not be like that anymore.” The voice was from Tiago as move from his spot behind an Acacia tree. He reload his still smoking rifle and pointed it once more to Father Lee. Now he is aiming for the head.

“Punyeta!” The blood curdling growl of the monster priest didn’t make the vagabond to back down. As Tiago approach the gargoyle, he keeps on repeating unusual mix and match of Latin and gibberish language in a monotonous low voice.

“Domine Benedicte, Espiritu Wacsim…Sator, Arepo, Tenet, Opera, Rotas Amen.”

Upon hearing the words of Tiago, Father Lee lunge forward to the vagabond with claws and teeth ready to tear him apart. Despite being blind with his right eye, Tiago manage to predict the attack and evaded it flawlessly by kneeling on the ground to duck. Just as the ferocious swipe of the priest miss him, he pull the trigger of his rifle and score a point blank range shot.

However, the priest also display inhuman reflexes as he twist his body to avoid the bullet. He only receive a graze but the shallow wounds still send the Gabunan priest in howling pain as the lesion starts to sizzle and emit a white hot smoke.

“I told you my next bullet will definitely kill you.” Tiago grimly speak while reloading his rifle once more. His single eye is glinting with deadly luster on them.

The rally between claws and bullet continue as both shift their position from long distance to close quarter combat. Tiago moves like soldier that are trained to fight beings like Father Lee. His reflexes and even his speed surprisingly match the already blinding movement of the priest. He can dodge and even shoot bullets at the same time and as seconds pass by his bullets are becoming more accurate as they found their home straight to vital parts of the Gabunan.

“I am not done yet!” The menacing façade of Father Leeroy before is now crumbling away and revealing his desperation to land a good blow to his enemy. His left arm is now bloodied and can’t be used. His thigh is already hit not just one but twice; making him sluggish and predictable.

“Those people must learn that by eating the flesh of their own is the only way to salvation!”

Tiago take this opportunity to slip pass through the priest and smack its face with the butt end of his rifle.

“Shut up Maligno! You don’t even know what you are talking about!” Tiago fired back as he point his gun right at the bleeding face of the Gabunan.

“And you are telling me that those Frayles are telling nothing but the truth? That they knew the words of our Lord very well?”

The vagabond didn’t respond however to defend not just himself but also the prevailing faith of his fellow Indio. His face is hard to read with for it seems the words from the monstrous creature rings a certain truth that he also knew yet didn’t entertain.

“How should I believe them if their intention is as evil as mine? They don’t devour people but they do far worse than eating flesh. They deliver their flocks to hell itself!”

A quick pull of trigger ended their discussion. The hole on the priest’s head start to sizzle until the punctured hole begin to eat his flesh with swirling peaceful stream of smoke.

“You know that what he said is truth. That’s why you kill him because you can’t bear to listen to it.”

Just like what he responded to Father Leeroy, Tiago’s lips remained sealed as we went back to the church. The vagabond just keep his eye on his rifle and check its barrel.

“Are you going also to kill the people in this town?” I asked.

“Only if they become visceral suckers like that priest.” He responded finally with blunt, cold words.

“If Father Leeroy is telling the truth, aren’t man are far more evil than the Aswang you are killing?”

He look at me directly with his lone eye and for the first time I saw the face of a weary man that bears countless scars both on his body and soul. Tired of seeing death. Tired of the war between good and evil. Tired of men. Tired of Aswang and all the malignos he had encountered.

“Aswang can tear your flesh but man even without fangs or claws can tear both body and soul. But it is not about who’s the greater or lesser evil; both must be destroyed if they will cost the lives of innocent.”

A week after the incident, I never saw any trace of Tiago in our town. I even sneak into the old manger just to see for myself if he also took all his guns away. Only five were reported dead from our community; both are shot in the head possibly by a shotgun.

I leave the town after a month to study; another conflict is brewing between the mestizos and indios and I decided I should join it to battle the evil under the guise of men using my pen.

I leave the battle with malignos to Tiago; hoping that we can both exorcise our homeland from both evils.