Chương 145: Chapter 145
The village of Barangay Liwayway stood isolated at the foot of a mountain, shrouded by dense jungle. The paths leading in and out of it were few, and most outsiders only passed through if they had no choice. Every year, as Halloween approached, the village became more restless. There was a whisper in the wind, a murmur between the houses. The whole place seemed to hold its breath.
It was the night of the Halloween Games.
The village had played the Games for as long as anyone could remember, though no one could say exactly when the tradition had started. There was always a sacrifice. Every year, someone would disappear during the Games, and the village would prosper. The crops would grow strong. The weather would stay fair. The children would thrive. The elders would live longer. It was simple, really. If they didn't play the Games, the land would turn barren, the animals would die, and sickness would spread.
That's what they said.
Ami was not yet old enough to fully understand what that meant. She had heard the stories from her grandmother, seen the haunted looks exchanged when someone asked why the Games continued. Still, she had grown up in the village. She had never seen the thing they spoke of, and there were always new crops in the fields, new life in the river. Maybe it was superstition. Maybe it was real.
Tonight, she would find out.
The Games were brutal, though the villagers didn't speak of them openly. It was part of the ritual. Every child in the village would be forced to play, running through the streets of Liwayway under the cover of darkness, trying to avoid the other participants. No one was supposed to help one another, and no one was supposed to cheat. The rules were clear: you had to survive.
The village square was packed with people dressed in masks and old, tattered clothes. Ami stood near the outskirts, holding her breath as she scanned the faces in the crowd. Her heart pounded. Some of her friends stood around her, all of them muttering prayers under their breath, some clutching candles, others holding hands.
At the center of the square, the elder stood with a long wooden staff, his wrinkled face barely visible beneath the mask he wore. It had hollow eyes, and a jaw that hung loosely like it was about to fall off. There was something unsettling about the mask, the way it seemed to almost move on its own. The elder lifted the staff into the air, and the crowd grew quiet.
"The Games begin!" the elder's voice cracked through the stillness, sending a ripple of nervousness through the crowd. "Remember, the one who survives shall be granted prosperity for this village. All others shall be given to it."
Ami swallowed hard. The air felt dense now, like there was something else hanging over them all. A breath that was not their own. Something had already begun.
The village bell rang three times, and without warning, the crowd scattered. The Games were on. Ami took off into the maze of streets, dodging the others. The houses here were close together, their walls low and leaning. The moon cast eerie shadows, and the night air was thick with the scent of decay. She felt like she was being watched. She kept moving, trying to ignore the knot in her stomach.
A scream echoed from behind her, and Ami's heart skipped. She didn't dare turn around. If she stopped, she might be caught.
The path ahead grew narrow. Ami squeezed through an alleyway, the walls brushing her shoulders. The sound of footsteps echoed all around her. She wasn't alone.
Then she saw it.
A figure at the end of the alley. It was tall, too tall, with long, spindly limbs that seemed to stretch into the shadows. Its face was obscured, but Ami could feel its eyes on her. The figure moved toward her with deliberate steps, and Ami's pulse quickened. She had to get away. She darted into another alley and ran as fast as her legs could carry her, though her breath was ragged and shallow.
But the figure was closer now.
There were other sounds now, other screams, far away in the distance. The Games were in full swing. She could hear the thuds of bodies colliding, the crack of something heavy hitting the ground. She tried not to think about it. She needed to survive.
Her legs burned, but she couldn't stop. She didn't know if the others were still chasing her, or if the thing behind her had caught someone else.
The alley opened up into a small courtyard. The buildings here were dilapidated, their roofs caving in. There was a well in the center of the courtyard, and Ami ran straight for it. She had no idea why, but something in her gut told her it would help. It wasn't much, but it was something.
But as she reached the well, a noise made her freeze.
A scraping sound, like claws on stone.
She turned slowly, her chest tight. The figure was there again. Only now, it was closer, too close. She could see its features—its long, thin fingers curled into grotesque claws. Its skin was pale, stretched too tight over its bones, and its eyes were dark, empty. It wasn't human. It couldn't be.
Before she could react, the thing lunged, its hand shooting out toward her. Ami gasped, but she didn't have time to scream. Its clawed fingers wrapped around her neck, lifting her off the ground with sickening ease. Her feet kicked helplessly. She couldn't breathe.
The thing's face was right in front of hers now, its mouth wide open in an inhuman grin. There was a low, gurgling sound from within its throat, like it was speaking but couldn't form words. It held her there, suspended, waiting.
Ami's mind raced. She tried to grab at its hand, but it was too strong. The air around her seemed to tighten. The world tilted. She could feel herself growing weaker, her thoughts slipping away.
The Games were over for her.
Her vision began to fade, her body going limp. She could hear a low, distant sound, something between a hum and a growl. The thing dropped her, and she collapsed to the ground with a thud. Her body wouldn't move. She couldn't scream. She was no longer sure if she even could.
The ground beneath her seemed to tremble. She heard footsteps, then more. And then the quiet, eerie hum began again, closer now. Ami's heart stuttered in her chest. It wasn't over yet.
And then, just as suddenly as it began, everything went silent. The sounds of the Games, the screams, the growls—gone.
Ami's eyes fluttered open, though the light was dim. She was no longer in the courtyard. She was inside a small room, dark except for a single candle flickering on a wooden table. The walls were made of rotting wood, and the air stank of mildew and rot. There was a figure in the corner, its face hidden behind a mask.
"Welcome," the figure said, its voice low and hollow. It took a step forward, revealing itself fully.
It was one of the villagers. But Ami had no words. Her voice wouldn't come. She couldn't understand.
"Every year," the figure continued, "we give one of our own. And in return, we receive what we need."
Ami tried to stand, but her legs wouldn't obey. She was too weak, too drained. The room seemed to grow colder, the shadows deeper.
The figure knelt beside her, lifting her chin to look at it. It smiled. But it wasn't a real smile. It was the smile of something dead.
"We've kept the tradition. Now, you'll be a part of it forever."
Ami felt a sharp pain in her chest. A pressure building. Something was inside her. The figure's words echoed in her mind as she fell into a hollow, dark abyss.
She had become one of them.
And the Games would never end.
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