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Copyright 2004 Pst

AI! Rights ~OM Publishing I
First P . eserved nc
Printed by Ps rmung 2004
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Uezon Cit\' Phybh~hing Inc
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Editor's note

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sfory o·tfe.h :Jflle..S birfh fo qhofhe..r.
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fhe.. ~olfe..rS. 1httt is, ;-f yov're.. llf to H.

Gianna Maniego

To Catriona Rhiarmon,
Who is ten times a better storyteller than I am.

Illustrations by Jim and Jay Jimenez and Gilbert Monsanto

ISBN 971-8995-97-8
 rable of conbenbs
The party girl __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 4
Antique Spanish Bed----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 12
At the Broadway -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------17
Centrum --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------17
Horror Hotel ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 18
lfs still her office -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------22
Beyond the cemetery gates --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 26
The Rider------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 32
Baby steps --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 36
Dormitories of Doom ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 41
Headless -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------48
lama na po ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------52
The Cemetery---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 57
The Visit------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 62
Ghost of a Scorned Woman --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 66
City of Ghosts ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------69
Crying Lady -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 73
The Kamuning Lover ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 75
Blood in the Room--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 79
Cousin Who Galled Her Playmate ------------------------------------------------------------------------------83
Noises At The Workplace_ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------84
Gorregidor Ghosts ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 85
AT THE UST Main Building -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------86
NUN OF THE ABOVE------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 87
Ooppleganger? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 87
Sa Vacation ko sa fairview_ --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 88
Night Jumper ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 89
The Phantom of the Night------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 95
Tagaytay Ghost Story-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 96
 The parbg girl

By Jonathan Celeste

T
his story happened about a year ago, to a group oftypical happy-
go-lucky teenagers who liked going out to have a good time.
John, Patrick, Mikhail and Lee were all classmates at one of
Bacolod's exclusive boys' schools.
Being _scions of well-off parents, they would always go out at
night, even during exams to visit a bar, drink all night and meet pretty
girls.
They were young and handsome, their school's heartthrobs.
They like nice clothes, cars and pretty girls.
Money was no object and they spent most of it in the city's
bars, getting drunk and picking up girls.
This particular night, they were celebrating something. It was
the end of Christmas vacation, after ali, and they were all graduating
from high school in three months.
Tt:.vE PHfLfWfNE ~HoST STot:.fES ~ooK ?

They all had big plans for college. John, Patrick, and Lee were
going to Manila, to enroll in the top universities there. Mikhail was
leaving in May for the United States, where he would continue his
studies.
"Hey, hurry up!" John yelled at Patrick as he honked the horn
on his canary yellow sportscar. (It was really a flashy thing, people
never failed to notice whenever it whizzed by in town.) "Come on
already! We're running late. We'll miss the fun."
"Wait up, I'm done," said Patrick, running down the stairs as
he swung his favorite navy jacket over his head, smoothly slipping his
arms through the sleeves.
John and Patrick have been best friends since grade school.
They met Mikhail and Lee in high school and the four have been in-
separable since.
"Did you tell them we're picking them up now?" asked John.
"Yup. They're ready," said Patrick. "Lee's waiting at Mikhail's."
The two were swinging by Mikhail's house en route to one of
Bacolod's hottest nightspots.
It was midnight by the time they arrived at Mikhail's. Mikhail
and Lee were waiting in front of the gate. They jumped into the car
and were soon on their way.
"Boy, I want this night to be the best!" said Mikhail.
"We'll be men by next year. Good times are ahead, better to
practice now!" Lee agreed.
"Relax guys, with our good looks and nice car, all the girls in
the bar will surely drool over us!" said Patrick.
"Alright!" the other three chorused
They were cruising down the highway at this point, in between
the towns of EB Magalona and Silay. The road was smooth and it was
Mikhail's turn at the wheel. As usual, he was driving like Mad Max.
All of a sudden, Mikhail stepped on the brakes.
 "Hoy, ano ba! (Watch it!) Be careful, naman!" Lee, who was
riding shotgun and nearly kissed the dashboard with the sudden move,
grumbled.
"Guys! Don't you see what I see?" asked Mikhail, his voice
tinged with wonder.
All three turned in the direction he was looking.
There, on the right side of the road, in the middle of nowhere,
stood a pretty young girl.
She stood about five-foot-six, had fair skin and long silky straight
hair. She had on a little black dress and red lipstick.
"What could she be doing in the middle of the road at this
time?" mused John.
Mikhail pulled over to the side of the road.
"Hey miss, need a lift?" John asked in the vernacular from the
backseat.
"But you're jam-packed already," answered the girl in the same
vem.
"We can still accommodate you," Mikhail said as he opened
the door of the car.
"Miss, it's fine. We can't let you walk around in the dark all by
yourself. Don't worry we're nice boys," Lee said.
"OK," the girl said as she joined John and Patrick in the
backseat.
"So, where is a beautiful girl like you headed at this time?"
asked Mikhail, looking at the girl in the rearview mirror.
"I wanna go to Bacolod, have a good time," said the girl sim-
ply.
Before Lee could ask the girl her name, Mikhail butted in and
said, "What a coincidence! We're headed that way too. Why don't
you join us, we'll go dancing and have ourselves a really good tim~?
Don't worry we're all good boys, right guys?" he said.
T~\JE PHfLfWfNE ~HoST STo~fES ~ooK ?

"Yes!" they all answered.

"Sure," the girl obliged.
At the dance club, the four boys sat down and ordered beer.
"Do you drink?" Mikhail asked, offering the girl a cold bottle
of beer.
"Yeah," the girl replied, smiling seductively at Mikhail as she
reached for the beer.
As the DJ put on the some house music, the four guys pulled
the girl towards the dance floor.
"This babe is hot and I think she likes me," Mikhail proudly
whispered to his peers.
"Mikhail strikes again ... " said John.
An hour passed and all five ofthem were exhausted from jump-
ing around and dancing. They all went back to their table.
"Shit, it's 3 a.m. already. I need to go," the girl said.
"Why so early? The fun is just starting," asked Mikhail, who by
this time had a big crush on her.
"But I need to," the girl said.
"OK, we're also pretty tired, right guys?" John said. "Why
don't we all call it a night?"
The others agreed and they all trooped back to where the car
was parked.
"So, where can we drop you off?" asked Mikhail.
"Where you picked me up," the girl answered.
"No problem, but isn't that area deserted? There didn't seem
to be a house for blocks. It's late, are you sure you'll be alright there?"
Mikhail wondered.
''I'm sure, just drop me off there. My house is a bit far from the
main road so you couldn't see it from there," she assured.
The air was cold and the girl shivered. Noticing this, John took

e
T~ut: PHlLfPPlNE ~HoST STo~lt:S ,._ooK ?

off his jacket and offered it to the girl.

"Here, put this on," John said.
"Thanks," she said.
Twenty minutes later, the girl said: "I'll be fine here."
"Here? Are you sure?" Mikhail said.
"Yes."
Mikhail pulled over, alighted from the car and opened the
door for the girl.
"Thanks," she said and gave Mikhail a wet kiss in the lips.
The girl walked in the grassy area and waved goodbye to the
boys.
"Mikhail, you're the man!" shouted John while the other two
boys also teased Mikhail.
The following day, John texted Mikhail and said he forgot to
get his jacket from the girl. As Mikhail wasn't able to sleep that night
thinking about the girl, the two agreed to look for the girl.
Going back to the spot where they dropped off the girl, the
two were shocked to discover that there were no houses visible in the
area. Just miles and miles of empty fields.
"Didn't she say their house was far back from the road?" Mikhail
asked John.
John shrugged. They both plunged into the grassy field. A
few meters from the road, they stumbled upon a smail house. Curi-
ous, the two went up to the silent house and knocked on the door.
"Hello, anybody home?" said Mikhail.
"There seems to be no one in here," said John.
"Hello, anybody home?" Mikhail knocked again.
An old woman with grizzled hair opened the door.
"What can I do for you, my sons?" she asked in the vernacular.
T~vE PI11LfPPfNE ~HoST STo~fES ~ooK ?

"Good morning, lola. We're looking for a girl who lives in the
area?" Mikhail said.
"I'm sorry, son. I live here alone."
"But we're very sure that the girl lives in this area. We dropped
her off here last night," Mikhail said.
"Are you sure? There isn't any other house here for blocks,"
she said.
"Uhm, she was about five-six, long straight black hair, fair, pretty.
She was wearing a black dress," Mikhail described.
At that, the old woman looked stricken. She clutched her chest,
saying "This isn't funny. Why are you doing this? Did someone put
you up to it? Don't tease me, my sons, I'm old. Please give me some
peace of mind."
The boys looked at each other, confused. They had no idea
what the old woman was babbling about.
Seeing the look of confusion on both their faces, the old woman
beckoned to them. "Come inside. I will show you something."
The old lady led them to a photo on the mantle. It was the
picture of a very pretty young girl.
"Look closely. Was she the one you saw last night?" the old
woman asked.
"Yes, lola," Mikhail and John agreed, peering closely at the
picture.
"That's Lisa, my granddaughter, my only granddaughter. She
died in an accident a year ago. She was about to go to Bacolod to
meet some friends but she never returned home. She was hit and run
by a reckless driver," the old woman sobbed, tears streaming down
her eyes.
John and Mikhail could feel their hairs standing on end.
"We're very sorry, lola," the boys stammered, at a loss about
what to do. They hu~riedly left the house.

!O
T~vE PHTLTWfNE /4HOST STo~TES ~ooK :?

"Man, that was creepy. I can't believe this is happening to

us," John said.
"Shut up. I'm scared enough!" Mikhail snapped.
As they were about to get into the car, they noticed an old
tree not far from the road, but partly hidden by the tall grass.
"I didn't notice this last night," John said.
"Of course, you idiot it was dark!" said Mikhail.
The two approached the tree. At the back of the tree they
noticed a group of concrete boxes with white paint on it.
"Is that a cemetery?" John said.
From afar, John saw a jacket hanging on one of the crosses.
"Hey! That's my jacket," John said. They ran to the grave, but
stopped cold when they saw what was written on the epitaph:
"lisa Andres. Born: October 23, 1983. Died: December 19,
2001." 0
Tt:.uE PHTLtWTNE ~HoST STot:.TE$ ~ooK ?

nnbique spanish ned

By Judy May Geronimo

I
n economics, there isa saying that goes "Buyer beware." A war-
ning to all unsuspecting buyers to be sur~ they are getting what
they pay for.
Most us forget this saying, particularly when we're on a buy-
mg spree.
Here's a story that might jog our memories next time that
happens.
I have a friend whose mother was wild about antiques. Since
they were well off, her mom had no trouble acquiring whatever her
heart desired when it came to her collection. From porcelain jars, to
delicate figurines, to antique furniture such as tables, chairs, dressers,
etc.-you name it, if it was an antique, she collected it.
Fortunately, their house is a vintage-style residence that dates
back to the early 1900s, so the collection did not look out of place. In
T~vE PHfLTPPfNE /4HDS'T S'To~fES ~ooK ?

fact, they actually used many of the antiques in the collection, particu-
larly the furniture.
Mrs. Villarama, my friend's mom, traveled everywhere to look
for bargain antiques. She saw her antique-hunting as an adventure.
Haggling with antique dealers, she said, sharpens her mind. She would
proudly show off pieces that she would get for bargain prices, much
like athletes would show off their trophies.
As such she became a favorite among the dealers. So much
so that whenever a new item comes into their safekeeping, the first
customer these dealers call is my friend's mom.
Most antique collectors take time to dig up the history of their
acquisitions-and most of them do have stories to tell. But Mrs.
Villarama was not one of them. She didn't really care about the origin,
nor the past owners of her antiques.
One day, one of her favorite dealers called her and said he
had an antique Spanish bed for sale. Would she be interested in it?
"It belongs to the great grandmother of Gabby Concepcion,"
the antique dealer told her.
Mrs. Villarama merely had a vague notion of who Gabby
Concepcion was (was he an actor? A model? Oh, the guy who was
once married to Sharon Cuneta) but she was really interested in the
bed, which the dealer described as made of mahogany. It was a four-
poster bed complete with canopy. It came with lace bed sheets and
all.
"Hmmm ... that would be perfect in the guest room. I was plan-
ning to redecorate it anyway," she thought to herself.
According to the dealer, the Concepcions would be shipping
the bed to Manila from their rest house in Boracay.
"I can't wait to see it. Can't we just go to Boracay ourselves to
see the bed?" the excited Mrs. Villarama asked, but the dealer as-
sured her the bed was already on its way as they spoke.
This only whetted Mrs. Villarama's interest more. ~ight un-
TJ::.uE PHfLfPPfNE ~HoST STol::.fES ,-.ooK ?

seen she quoted a price for it. After a bit of haggling, the dealer
relented and let her have the bed -for a whopping P180,000!
But my friend's mom considered the price a bargain when she
saw the bed in question. It was beautiful! The bed looked so inviting,
she decided to use it herself instead of putting it in the guest room.
Trouble began on the first night that she slept on it, however.
Immediately after laying down on the soft pillows, she fell into
deep slumber. Pretty soon she was dreaming.
She dreamt of a pretty mestiza and a handsome guy having a
heated discussion. She'd never seen either person before, yet their
faces were so vivid, she could probably sketch them from memory.
They were in bed, the same antique Spanish bed she had just bought,
and they were arguing violently.
"Sino yun lalaki na iyon Cecilia? Nakita kita kausap mo siya
kahapon. Ngayon nakita ko ulit siya dito. Sino siya? (Who is that man
Cecilia? I saw you talking to him yesterday and today he is here again.
Who is he?)" she heard the man ask angrily in accented Tagalog.
"Dati ko siyang katipan Alfredo. Siya ang totoong mahal ko!
Hindi ikaw! Kung hindi mo pinilit ang Papa ko na ipakasal sa iyo, siya
dapat ang asawa ko ngayon! (He's my old lover, Alfredo, the one I
truly love, not you. If you didn't force my father to marry you he would
have been my husband!)'' the woman shouted back.
The couple argued some more in Spanish, until the man, un-
able to stop himself, put his hands on his wife's neck and began chok-
ing her.
At this point Mrs. Villarama woke up, in a cold sweat, shiver-
ing. It took her sometime to calm down enough to go back to sleep.
Upon waking the next day, she told her family about her night-
mare. Mrs. Villarama could only remember snatches of the conversa-
tion, most of which was conducted in Spanish.
"Mama, baka yan yung mga dating may ari ng kama mo?
(Mama, maybe the couple are the former owners of your bed?)" my
T~uE PHfLfPPfNE 'iHoST STo~fES ~ooK ?

friend hazarded a guess.

"Eh hindi naman ata yun ang lola ni Gabby. Hindi naman nya
kamukha. (But the woman didn't look like Gabby's great grandmother,)"
Mrs. Villarama said.
She was haunted by the dream every night for several months.
She would wake up in the middle of the night sweating and shivering,
her whole body aching.
After three months of torment, Mrs. Villarama felt exhausted
for lack of sleep. She'd lost a good deal of weight and had dark eyebags
under her eyes that seemed like they were permanently etched on
her face.
Finally, she couldn't stand it any longer, she decided to get to
the bottom of her dream. She called her antique dealer and told him
about her recurring nightmare. And for the first time, she asked him
about the origin of the antique Spanish bed.
The dealer confirmed that the original owners of the bed were
not the Concepcions but a young couple who once lived in Bacolod
at the turn of the 2Qth century.
According to the story, the man, Alfredo, loved his mestiza
wife very much but Cecilia, the woman, was in love with Guido, a
struggling medical student. But because Alfredo was a lawyer 2nd
could provide a better life for his daughter, the woman's father mar-
ried her off to him.
For a while, Cecilia tried to be a dutiful wife, even though she
didn't love Alfredo. But her husband was a difficult man to live with.
He was constantly jealous of other men who would talk to his wife and
would fly into a rage everytime this happened. He would humiliate
her in front of friends, calling her a flirt, or when he was really, really
angry, a whore.
For a time, all Cecilia could do was cry silently, for no one dared
to defend her in the face of Alfredo's wrath-not even her family.
After a few years, Cecilia saw her old lover, Guido, who was
already a doctor by then. The two renewed their romance and Guido

l?
T~vE PHfLTPPfNE ~HoST STo~fES ..ooK ?

promised Cecilia they would elope when he'd saved up enough money.
This gave Cecilia courage to admit to her husband that she
didn't love him. Alfredo was livid with rage and vowed that no other
man would have her.
One night, he saw his wife in bed with Guido. His sanity
snapped.
"Binari/ daw ng la/aki ang kalaguyo ng kanyang asawa at
inihampas naman sa poste ng kama ang ulo ng kanyang asawa
hanggang sa ito ay mamatay. (He shot his wife's lover and then smashed
his wife's head against one of the bedposts until it cracked open and
she died,)"
According to the dealer, antiques are expensive not just be-
cause they are unique and beautiful, but because each one has a
story to tell.
"Ang mga antigo ay hindi mga pangkaraniwang bagay. May
mga antigong na-preserve dahil sa kaakibat na istorya. May iba na
nabuo dahil ginawa ng isang tao sa panahon na kasalukuyan siyang
umiibig o di kaya naman ay napopoot. (Antiques are not ordinary ob-
jects. Many of them are preserved because of the stories they have to
tell. Some of these stories are about love, others are about jealousy
and rage,)" he said.
-------
Upon arriving home Mrs. Villarama inspected- her bed and
saw traces of dried bloodstains on one of the bedposts, proof that all
the antique dealer had told her was true.
The following day, she moved the bed into the guest room.
And from then on, she made sure to ask about the history of every
antique she bought. 0

!6
 nb bhe oroadmag
cenbrum
This was a popular urban legend in the 1980's.
As the story goes, a couple is out on a date at night, when
their car breaks down at the parking lot of the old Broadway Cen-
trum. The boyfriend gets out and tries to fix the engine but fails. He
tells the girlfriend to stay in the car, close the windows, and lock the
doors while he goes to get help.
The girl waiting for about half an hour, notices a strange man
watching from the shadows. He approaches the car and starts bang-
ing on the windows and trying to force open the doors.
Terrified, the girl honks the car horn to get attention and scare
the man off. He gives up and leaves, only to return a few minutes
later. He starts circling the car, holding something in his hand, which
he raises to the window.
To her horror, the girl realizes it is her boyfriend's decapitated
head. Then, she is even more horrified to see what the man lifts up in
his other hand: the boyfriend's car keys.
The next day, the police find her inside the car, alone, laugh-
ing and screaming nonsense, driven insane by an unknown terror. 0
T~vE PHfLfPPfNE 4HoST STo~fES ~ooK ?

uorror nobel

Anonymous, Submitted through e-mail

s my two sons were growing up, I would make it a point to go

A with them on one-on-one bonding trips.

On one occasion, I brought my eldest who was then 12 years
old to Leyte, which is my home province.
Not wanting to open up the ancestral home, we stayed at the
**** Hotel in Tacloban.
Aside from the beautiful view of the San Juanico Strait and the
hills of Samar, the hotel has a very nice swimming pool with a slide.
We spent the better part of the afternoon swimming and hors-
ing around the pool.
We got home at about 11 o'clock that night from a baptismal
party and bedded down for the evening. We had twin beds with a
night table and lamp in between.
Throughout the night, the air conditioner was going off and
on and off and on since it was connected to the electric cooperative.
We had no problem with the night table lamp as this was con-
nected to the hotel generator.
At 4:20 in the morning, I decided I had enough of this off and
on of the air conditioner so I shut it off and opened the balcony doors
to have some ventilation.
From the balcony I could see a cargo ship at the Tacloban
dock and I thought- what a calm evening.
I got back to bed and as soon as I laid down, l felt a movement
and heard a rustling on the right side of my head, then the bed shifted
as 1t a weight had just shifted by my left hip.
I c:::t up to check what was pressing down on the bed. Then,
right at my feet, I saw the bedsheet move slightly and felt the bed tilt
.• .;.;;as my feet- as if a weight had just been put there.
f'-.1! of :.1 sudden, the bed started rocking violently as if it were
- •· !; jumped on. The rocking was so violent that from a sitting posi-
-t::vn. i was thrown on my back. Then I felt the bed rising (about six
inches) and then it dropped down on the floor with a loud bang.
At first I was paralyzed with fear and shock, then my rationale
took over. The thought that came to mind was- earthquake!
I rushed to the balcony door to check if the bay waters were
receding fearing that a tidal wave would follow. Instead, I saw that the
cargo ship was there on calm as ever waters. I looked at the ceiling
lamp - and it was not swinging -which would have been the case
had it been an earthquake. I checked under the bed - nothing!
Then a creeping kind of fear started to come over me. I
checked out my son and he was sleeping soundly- but with his head
where his feet had been.
I sat down on the edge of my bed and started to pray keep-
ing a close watch on my son so that no harm would come over him.
Among my prayers was "Lord keep that generator running.
need that light to stay on."
T~uE PHfLfPPfNE 'iHoST STo~fES ~ooK ?

I felt a heavy atmosphere in the room and it had a reddish

gloomy hue. I kept on praying but throughout, I could feel this heavi-
ness in the room and it was gloomy despite the light.
Finally, sunrise came at around 5:30. Thank God! I told my-
self.
"Haaay, magpapahinga muna ako (I'm gonna take a rest first.)
I'm so exhausted."
With that thought, I laid back and all of a sudden the beings
started to jump on the bed again making it rock violently.
I bolted out of bed and woke up my son. He woke up, pro-
testing, and asked why I was waking him up so early. I told him I was
hungry.
"Hurry up lets have breakfast," I said.
!twas only when we arrived in Manila later in the morning that
I told him and my wife about what had happened.
I made. some discreet inquiries about the hotel and I learned
that it is located on the site of a Japanese garrison during the war and
later a Philippine Constabulary camp. God knows what things took
place there.
A few years later, I returned to Tacloban to attend a ceremony
for the naming of a street after my father.
Despite what had happened to me before, I opted to stay in
the same hotel since, as in the previous time, I did not want to open
up our ancestral home.
Besides, if something happened again, that would be too much
already!
This time, I was with my wife, my mother and my sister who
shared a connecting room with ours.
I was out most of the day and returned a little before 2:00
a.m. to find everybody still awake. After a little chat, everybody re-
tired for the evening.

20
 There was a sign on our night table (this time we were sharing
a double bed) that there would be a brownout at 2:30 a.m.
So my wife and I were making small talk when the brownout
came. Suddenly right at the foot our bed - we heard a woman wailing
and crying in deep despair. As if she had no more hope left!
My wife, who was always a skeptic said, "What's that?"
I said, "Just pray."
And we held each other tight.
The anguished cries kept on for a little less than a minute, but
it seemed like an eternity until they finally stopped.
Needless to say, no one had any sleep that night and we stayed
there with rosaries around our necks which we kept on until we left
later that morning. 0
T~vE PHiLiPPiNE ~HO$T $To~iE$ ~ooK ?

IIi'S sliill her office

By Jonathan Celeste

T
his is a story about a bank executive and her family who went to
Boracay in the summertime and never returned to Manila.
My sister told me that this happened about a year ago.
Mrs. Belen Cruz (not her real name) was a strict bank execu-
tive in Manila. She was known for her no-nonsense way of doing busi-
ness.
Her husband was also a professional. He worked for a big ad-
vertising firm in Makati. The couple had two children- a boy, aged 7,
and a girl, aged 5.
Despite her tight schedule at the bank, Belen always took time
off every summer to spend quality time with her family. She spent a
lot of time excitedly planning a summer getaway for her whole family
-whether it's in Baguio, or Tagaytay, or Batangas.
That year they were off to Boracay. It was a first-class trip all

22
T~vE PHfLfWTNE ~HoST STo~fES ~ooK ?

the way. Belen and her husband saved up all year and had set aside a
substantial nest egg for the trip.
The family planed into Aklan en route to Boracay, where they
stayed in one of the first-class resort-hotels.
Opting to go sailing, they hired a yacht and cruised around
the island to view its harbor. They were the only family on board. The
whole day, the family navigated the crystal clear water of Boracay and
went island hopping.
By the time they decided to return to the main island, it was
after dark already. The families were exhausted from their day on the
yacht. Suddenly, they noticed the crew having difficulty handling the
boat.
"Is there a problem?" Francis, Belen's husband, asked after
half an hour had passed and the sailing party were nowhere near the
main island.
Belen and Francis felt a slight unease, but were not unduly
upset. Maybe the crew was just taking the scenic route. They seemed
really capable and competent.
"Sir, it's okay. We are just adjusting our bearings," the captain
replied.
So the Cruzes settled down to wait until they reached the
island. Outside the cabin, the booming roar of the sea's waves and
the eerie cawing of birds and bats flying in the darkening sky pro-
vided little comfort.
Night came and went yet the boat never reached safe harbor.
The following morning, news broke out in Boracay that a fam-
ily of four aboard a yacht was missing. Local officials and the Coast
Guard formed a search and rescue team to look for the missing yacht
but after 48 hours the authorities gave up.
The officials informed the relatives of the Cruzes and the crew-
men of the tragedy. Everyone mourned the loss of lives.
Days after, the remains of the victims were found floating in

2?
the middle of the sea. The rescuers noticed something peculiar about
the bodies, though: their stomachs were not bloated with salty sea-
water. They should have been bloated if they had drowned, but they
weren't!
Residents of the islands believe that unholy spirits roaming
the island and the sea might have been taken with the family so they
"invited" them to join their underworld kingdom.
Meanwhile, back in Manila, Belen's officemates noticed sev-
eral strange things happening on the same day that the Cruzes were
last seen in alive.
A janitor was cleaning the desk of Belen, when suddenly a
cold breeze wafted into the room. At first, the janitor didn't mind,
thinking that it might just be the air conditioner. He went to clean the
window, close to where the aircon was installed. He dropped his bucket
in surprise when he realized the aircon was unplugged!
Turning toward Belen's desk, he was flabbergasted to see fine
white sand scattered all over it! And not only on top of the table, but
even under it!
Where in the world would that fine white sand come from, the
janitor asked, his hair standing on end. The janitor fled the office shout-
ing 'Multo! Multo! (Ghost! Ghost!)'
Curious, the other bank employees crowded around the jani-
tor, who was sweating profusely and gasping for air.
"Ana nangyari sa iyo? Bakit ka hinihingal? Bakit ka nagsisisigaw
ng multo? (What happened to you, why are you out of breath? Why
were you shoutmg about ghosts?)" the bank manager asked. The
janitor merely pointed to the room he just vacated.
But when they peeked into the room, it looked as normal as
ever. No sign of sand and the air was stal2, like the room had been
unoccupied for some time.
They looked questioningly at the janitor, who swore up and
down that he was telling the truth.
T~vE PHfLfWfNE 14HoST STo~fES ~ooK ?

The employees decided not to make a big deal of the inci-

dent. The janitor was sent home to rest, and the door of Belen's office
stood open the rest of the day. From time to time, the employees
would steal surreptitious glances inside the room, half curious, half
fearful of what they may see in the room.
Some of them were creeped out. They had a strange feeling.
A bad feeling. Like something was wrong.
The following morning, the Manila office received the news
that the Cruzes were lost at sea. And the janitor never returned to
that office.
With Belen 's demise, the bank had to fill in her position. The
bank's top executives deliberated on who would succeed her. They
decided to promote one from the ranks.
A day before the new manager was supposed to move into
the former office of Belen, the room "acted up" again!
This time things became even creepier!
Belen's black executive swivel chair began turning around and
around, but there was no one in it! A cool breeze blew in and was felt
through the room - but the room was tightly sealed. The secretary
and the newly appointed boss fled from the room.
Days passed and the employees decided to have the room
blessed. They called for a priest and offered a mass for Belen and
blessed her former room and the whole office as well.
But Belen's office remained unoccupied.
It seems that Belen didn't want to relinquish her room just
yet. Every once in a while, whenever someone tried to use her room,
strange things would happen. The smell of candles or sampaguita,
the sound of the window opening and closing, and once, the sound
of someone tapping on the desk ...
Everyone believed it was Belen. Reminding everyone that it
was still her office. 0
T~uE PHfLfPPfNE ~HoST STo~fE$ ~ooK ?

uegond bhe oemeberg

gabes
By Louie Magdamit

M
ost people I know have personal accounts of the unknown
- encounters with spirits, apparitions of the dead, ll'.'hite
ladies, ghouls and others. Most of the time, these eerie en-
counters would happen to individuals when they are alone. Or, even if
they are with other people at the time of the incident, only they would
witness the apparition, while the others would be oblivious to what is
happening.
But this story I'm about to tell isn't like anything like those.
This happened roughly around 10 years ago when disco danc-
ing was at its peak and dance music was dominating the brewing rock
scene. !t spawned numerous dance groups, competing in different
cities and provinces inspired by then famous Street Boys and UMD.
My friend's brother, Jeff, couldn't help but be a part of a dance
group. With five of his friends, they rumbled to compete and outdance
other groups in the barangay and other neighboring districts. Sur-

26
T~uE PHfLfPPfNE ~HoST STo~fES ~ooK ?

prisingly, they were successful in hammering out the competition with

their moves and flare that impressed judges and hosts in famous clubs
and discos.
Taking notice of their talent, Jeff's friend invited them to try
their luck down in Cavite where a hefty cash prize awaited the win-
ners. With a rising sense of anticipation and their girlfriends in tow,
Jeff took his cousin James, and friends, to help him drive the van that
took them to Cavite.
Along Aguinaldo Highway in Bacoor, they passed a cemetery
and joked that they'll come around to visit the graveyard after the
contest. Everybody on the van laughed at the idea except Jeff's friend,
Ryan, who felt a frisson of dread upon seeing the cemetery.
The competition drew a lot of contenders from other districts
and lasted throughout the night. Intermissions from hosts and special
guests added fun to the delight of the public.
Finally all the contestants were done with their routines.
With fingers crossed, the dance groups awaited with bated
breath the moment they had been waiting for.
Much to their surprise and delight, Jeff and his group won the
award!
After much back-slapping and high-fives, the group finally
calmed down enough to head for home.
It was past midnight so they hurriedly packed their stuff and
drove off to the nearest gas station where they got some gas and
bought food and drinks at the convenience store. Everybody was
excited, and the drive back home was filled with animated laughter
and they kept popping beer cans and throwing chips inside the old
van.
As the van threaded down the highway, one of the gang,
Jaque, remembered the dare to drop by the cemetery. Doubtful
and somewhat terrified, the majority howled and jeered at the idea
but decided to stick with the plan. The idea was cemented when one
of the girls, Kyle, recalled that there was a path somewhere in the
T~vE PHfLfPPfNE 'iHoS"f S"fo~fES ~ooK ?

cemetery, which would cut their trip and get them home faster.
A few meters before reaching the cemetery gates, Ryan
pleaded for them to just go home and forget about the plan.
"Anoka ba? Madami naman tayo eh, para kang di la/aki(What's
wrong with you? There are a lot of us here so you don't have to worry.
Are you a man or not?)" one of the girls snidely remarked.
They all ignored Ryan and the van continued to enter the old
rusty gates of the cemetery.
Huge ferns and tall, uncut grass covered the dry soil, running
rampant along countless graves and crypts. Some of the tombstones
were left to rot and appeared never to have been visited.
All of a sudden, a loud shriek echoed inside the aging van.
The van drew to an abrupt halt and dead silence ensued inside the
vehicle.
Ano ka ba .Mike, 'wag mo 'kong takutin! (What are you doing
II

Mike, Stop scaring me!)" said Christy.

Everyone had a laugh at what Mike did and others began
pounding on him while the girls took turn scolding him like Christy
did. Ryan continued to plead with James, who was at the wheel, to
turn back and take the old route. James seemed undecided, but he
felt a tap from Jeff, signaling him to continue the ride.
The ride continued as the van's headlight steadily lit up the
dark trail.
1/Sigurado ka bang may daan dito Kyle? (Are you sure there's
a road here Kyle?)" asked Karl, one of the guys.
"Yup, dati dumaan kami dito eh, mabi/is nga yung daan! (we
used to pass here before, it really made the trip shorter,)" Kyle an-
swered.
They shut tight the windows of the van, fearing something
w~uld jump or appear from nowhere. The pranks and taunting con-
tinued, as the beer cans continued to empty.
Then, suddenly the radio squawked dead. Mike tried to twitch
T~uE PHTLTWTNE 'IHoST STo~fES ~ooK ?

the dial but heard only static from the speakers. As they were around
50 meters from the gates, James noticed the path getting narrower.
Branches slapped against the side of the van to the girls' horror.
"Ma/uwag 'tong daan na ito dati ah (This road used to be
wider)," Kyle wondered aloud.
The fun of the dare was already fading; terror was beginning
to grip their senses. Ryan pleaded again for them to go back. This
time, everyone agreed. As James hurriedly put on the brakes, he
shifted the gear into reverse. But as the van began backing up, the
engine died.
Everyone froze, a feeling of impending doom falling over them.
James cranked the starter but the engine didn't budge. He tried
again but the effort proved futile.
"Bakit hindi tayo maka-atras (Why can't we back up)?" Jeff
asked. James couldn't explain it, the van's gasoline gauge read half-
full, the battery was ok.
Then, strange things started happening.
Christy cried out as Ryan fell unconscious. Mike rushed to Ryan
and attempted to revive their friend. Feeling· an immediate need to
leave the burial ground, Jeff suggested that they step out of the van
and push it. The group opposed the idea and insisted James to crank
the engine again. But the engine didn't start.
"Dude, kai/angan nating itulak talaga yung van! (we really have
to push the van!)" Mike shouted, "kailangan umuwi na tayo (we have
to get home.)"
One by one they stationed themselves around the vehicle
and started to push. Ryan was left in the back seat, still unconscious,
while James started to jerk the engine. Mike with his girlfriend and
Kyle were at the left side of the van; Jeff with his girlfriend and Christy
were in front of the van; and the last to come down, Jaque with two
guys placed themselves at the right side.
They started to push the van back but the van wouldn't budge.
All of a sudden, a strong gust of wind blew from different directions.
T~uE PHTLfPPTNE 'iHoST STo~TE$ ~ooK ?

James signaled to push the van back.

"/baba mo yung handbreak (release the handbrake)!" shouted
Christy. But still the van wouldn't budge. Then suddenly, simulta-
neously, Christy felt something pulling her leg; on the other side, Jaque
saw a bloodied woman hanging on an acacia tree; and Mike saw an
old man, red eyes and a deformed arm clutching a sharp object.
In panic, they poured all their strength into pushing the van
back hurriedly until the engine started to run again. They rushed in-
side the van, closed the door and turned on the lights. James stepped
on the gas pedal and sped back toward the gates. They realized it
was taking them too long to reach the gates considering they weren't
that far inside the cemetery.
Speeding backwards toward the gates, everybodv hPirl +1-- ::.:.
breath hoping to get away from the terror tilc,t was dogging their
heels. Finally, the van skidded past the gates anr-1 r-l:::""'"" ;.;il 110rtn
down Aguinaldo highway.
Everybody was breathless from the incident. Nobc~y ::. · ·
word except Ryan who finally became conscious.
IIAnong nangyari (what happened)?" Ryan asked. It took awniie
before they told their frightening tale to each other. They couldn't
believe what happened to them; it was unimaginable. Then they asked
what happened to Ryan, why did he fall unconscious? He said that the
last thing he remembered before they entered the cemetery was a
child near the gates of the cemetery, signaling him not to go inside.
Then he remembered waking up and saw Jaque going down from
the van.
Tatanungin ko sana kung sa an kayo pupunta, kaya lang
II

pagtingin ko sa likod ang darning naka-sakay pero hindi kayo! Ang

pupula ng mga mata ni/a. After nun wala na akong ma-alala .. .(1 was
going to ask where you were going, but when I looked behind me I
noticed there were a lot of passengers. But none of them were you
guys. And they all had red eyes! After that I couldn't remember any-
thing else,)" he related.

?0
T~vE PHfLfPPfNE ~HoST STo~fE$ ~ooK ?

It was then they realized why they couldn't budge the van!
The shock and the horror of encountering a pack of ghosts
face-to-face left the group trembling. The girls broke down, crying
while the van cruised down the Coastal Road.
A few months after the incident, the group disbanded and
never competed again. It took awhile before Jeff told me the horrify-
ing tale they encountered. Many didn't believe the tale, but Jeff swears
it's true. 0

Of "Mangkukulam" and "Mambabarang"

Here in the Philippines. Mangkukulams and Mambabarangs are very much
known. Mangkukulams and Mambabarangs are synonymous to those practicing voo-
doos. They usually perform the ritual by themselves but most of them belong to a cult.
In most cases, mangkukulam uses dolls (similar to voodoo dolls). They will say a prayer
to this small dolls and whatever they do to the dolls. will happen to you. (eg, if they boil
it, you'll have the stingy feeling of being boiled and soon enough you'll fmd your skin
burned. Anyone who wishes to take revenge on someone can go to a mangkukulam.
just bring any property of your enemy. They will say a prayer to your property and just
like in the dolls. whatever happens to it happens to you. Mangkukulams are very
powerful, in a few days time their victims are usually found dead. Mambabarangs are
a bit more powerful. They usually don't need any of your property. They can just
remember your face and your name and take revenge on you. Mangkukulams and
Mambabarangs are not just mere urban legends, here's why:
A woman friend (let's call her Lila) of ours from Batangas (Philippines) had
an ugly fight with an old man regarding a coconut tree. After sometime, Lit<l finds hsr
tummy getting big. Thinking she was pregnant. she announced it to almost everyone in
the barrio. Days passed she became aware that there is something wrong with her
pregnancy. Her tummy gets bigger way too fast - considering that she had only been
"pregnant" for two months. When she went to a doctor. the doctor !ells her that there's
some kind of a "mass" inside her tummy, and it's definitely not a baby. So she had
surgery. When the doctor opened her tummy. nata de coco (a processed coconut)
spilled out of her. Almost 2 bags were taken out. "Binarang ka siguro ng matandang
nakaaway mo. kilala iyon sa Iugar namin bilang mambabarang·· (The old man you had a
fight with is well known to be a mambabarang and you had become his victim) says
one of our ka-barrio. Sometimes they place cockroaches or balls of hair or other
disgusting things inside their victims.
The cases with mangkukulams are too many to count. I don't know which
one to share. The example I gave above (the dolls being boiled and the victim being
burned) is very common.
So next time you go to the Philippines, don't forget to say sorry when you
stepped on someone's toes specially the old ones :) You'll never know which of them
are mangkukulams or mambabarangs ... www.unsolvedmysteries.com
T~VE PHfLTPPfNE 'iHoST STo~fES ~ooK ?

The Rider

By Louie D. Magdamit

I
t was a cold evening, that night in November. It was nearly 2 a.m.
The smell of Christmas was very much in the air and a thousand
twinkling lights dotted the city's landscape like stardust.
I loved driving around the city on nights like these. Hardly
any traffic at all. There were very few vehicles around at this time.
Mostly cabs roaming the streets in search of fares.
I was on my way back from my girlfriend's place of work near
Chino Roces and Buendia Avenue. Actually it was a short drive com-
ing from Kalayaan Avenue, to my destination, a good five-minute ride
to be exact.
I usually pick up my girlfriend during her break. We grab a
quick bite at a nearby fast food joint and spend the rest of her break
chatting.
After awhile, I would head back home and she heads back to
nuE PHfLfPPfNE 4HoS1' S1'okfES ~ooK ?

her desk.
Driving back home that night, I was a bit drowsy. I had a good,
satisfying meal and the low humming of the engine was lulling me to
sleep. As I crossed Ayala Avenue, all I could think about was my com-
fortable bed at home.
This wouldn't do, I said, as I turned off the air-conditioner of
the car. I rolled down the windows to let the invigorating breeze keep
me awake.
Luckily, I hit a red light on Makati Avenue. I had a chance to
grab a quick smoke from a cigarette vendor, who seemed out of place
selling cigarettes in the wee hours.
This woke me up a bit as I drove toward the flyover that would
take me back down to Kalayaan Avenue.
The last intersection, which was, unfortunately on a red stop,
reminded me of the old Buendia flyover which I was to take. I remem-
ber there was a construction ramp that widened to another flyover
opposite my lane.
It was the same ramp where singer Ric Segreto had a tragic
motorcycle accident that took his life.
Green. The thought of Ric Segreto's death was instantly for-
gotten as I drove off to my last stretch. As I gunned my engine how-
ever, a Volkswagen Beetle sped past me. As usual I had to switch my
headlights to high beam because the light posts on the flyover were
rarely lit.
Also, I had to be wary of the diversion slot on the incline, as
many vehicles have fallen victim and slammed into the concrete barri-
cade, while the metal patch linking the flyover has no grip on tires
especially when it rains.
I've seen and heard many horror stories about that ramp. Once
I saw an overturned taxicab sitting on its roof on the left side of the
ramp headed for Kalayaan Avenue.
The other was a sedan that miscalculated its turn departing to
Ed sa.
In other words, it is a risky drive taking that flyover if you're
unfamiliar with the ramp.
As I carefully maneuvered my car to the left, high beam and
all, I noticed a figure hovering ahead. It kept apace with my car, ap-
proximately 20 meters from my hood, curving to the right.
I instantly realigned my eyeglasses closer and twitched my
light switch hoping to get more beam from the light, an accident at
that time was unacceptable.
T~ut PHfLfPPfNE ~HoST STo~fES ~ooK ?

I figured it was riding a motorcycle, wearing a helmet and was

silhouetted from the lights .ot an approachmg vehicle rrom tne omer
side.
I was almost done with my cigarette when I decided to check
out the figure; thinking it was really dangerous for that guy to ride
without using his headlight and not switchi~g on his taillight.
From time to time, I would look up to catch a glimpse of the
figure, who was now a bit farther on, light from several directions throw-
ing it into relief.
I should have h~d a glimpse of the motorcycle he's riding by
now, I thought. Curiosity and anxiousness prompted me to step on
the gas to see what it is.
As I turned right, gaining pace, cigarette on my lips, it disap-
peared instantly from my sight!
"What the ... " I craned my neck as I slowed down.
In the next instant, I felt a burning pain in my thigh. My ciga-
rette had burned my pants right down through to the skin. I could
feel my skin blistering from the burn.
"Yeoooouuuch!!!"
I immediately flicked the butt of the cigarette away when I
realized what I was doing and hurriedly rolled up my window.
When I passed the spot where I last saw the bike rider, I no-
ticed a new construction structure. It was half in the dark and unno-
ticeable. It I hadn't slowed down, I might have caught the edge of it.
At the rate I was going, I could have easily met an accident.
As I parked the car, my thought$ were spinning with what I
saw.
Was I hallucinating or was I just dead tired? To this day, it gives
me the chills whenever I pass that ramp, which I do almost every
other night. ·
One thing's for sure, the mysterious figure saved me from
serious injury. 0 ·
T~vE PHTLTPPTNE ~HoSl' Sl'o~TES -.ooK ?

uabgsbeps

By Judy May Geronimo

omewhere ~n UP Village in Quezon City s:ands a bea~t~ful hou~e.

S The house 1s such a showcase that mov1e and telev1s1on outf1ts

often lease it and use it for shootings.
Unfortunately, the house is nearly deserted. Its owners, Claudio
and Marita Villarica have decided to be with their children, who chose
to settle in the United States.
A few years ago, Mrs. Villarica suffered a mild stoke and her
husband decided to take her on a vacation in the US and also to be
with their children.
However, the trip did not improve the health of Marita, more
due to old age than anything else. Hence, they decided to stay there
for good.
There was one relative of the Villaricas, though, left to take
care of the house while the family was abroad.

?6
T~vE PHfLfPPfNE ~HoST STo~fES ~ooK ?

Aling Demetria is the 40-year-old half sister of Mr. Villarica.

She didn't have a family of her own, so Claudio assigned her to be the
caretaker of the house.
Shortly after the couple had settled abroad, twin tragedies
befell the family.
Aling Demetria received a letter from the US informing her
that Marita already passed away. Barely had she finished grieving when,
a month later, a lawyer contacted her to inform her that her half-brother
also died.
According to the lawyer, Mr. Vi!larica left a last will and testa-
ment making her the legal owner of the house.
Aling Demetria was very happy to hear the good news. Since
she had no family, the house was so big for her to live in all alone.
Hence, she decided to move into the guest house and have the main
house rented.
But she seemed to have a string of bad luck when it came to
her tenants.
Her first tenant was a Chinese family who after three years of
living in the house had to move back to China.
The second tenant was a Muslim who used the house for ille-
gal gambling and Aling Demetria had to kick him out.
The third tenant was somewhat decent. A woman gynecolo-
gist in her late 30s. Never in her wildest dream did Aling Demetria
think that this woman will give her the biggest problems.
The first five months passed uneventfully. One night, Aling
Demetria was awakened by a loud scream coming from the basement
of the house which had been converted into a clinic by her tenant.
She got up to check where the scream came from and saw a
light coming from the basement clinic.
When she peeped inside she saw a woman lying in a pool of
blood on the bed. She was about to run and call the police when the
doctor grabbed her arms to stop her and pleaded.
T~vE PHfLfPPfNE ~HoST STo~fES ~ooK ?

"Please, Aling Demetria, don't be scared, help me here. It

was an accident. That lady begged me to abort her baby for a half
million pesos. I obliged because I needed the money. At my age I'm
still a striving doctor," the doctor explained in an agitated manner.
"It's her fault! She didn't tell me she had a heart ailment."
Aling Demetria was scared and shocked, but agreed to help
the doctor not just out of pity but also because the doctor was her
responsibility because she lived in her home.
She went back inside the room, and she almost fainted when
she saw the cracked fetus on the bed beside the girl. But it was too
late to back out, she was already an accomplice to the crime.
Together they carried the corpse inside the trunk of the car of
the doctor. They dumped the dead body on a grassy lot somewhere
in Lagro.
It was dawn by the time they reached home.
For several days they did not mention the incident, going about
their chores like zombies.
A month after, the doctor started to act strange. Aling Demetria
would often catch her talking to herself, mumbling: "It was an acci-
dent, it was an accident" over and over again.
One midnight, Aling Demetria was awakened by a piercing
scream.
II AAAAAAAAAAHHH HH HHHH !!!!"
It was the doctor! The scream seemed to come from the base-
ment. Abruptly, the screaming stopped.
"Ano na naman kaya ang ginawa nang babaeng yan? Tam a
na! Tatawag na ako ng pulis (What is that woman up to aqain? This is it!
I'm calling the police this time!)" Aling Demetria said as she ran to the
house to find out what happened. When she got to the door, she
nearly stumbled over an obstacle.
There on the threshold was the doctor, her body contorted in
pain.
TkuE PHfLfWfNE ~HoST STokfES ~ooK ?

She was dead.

Her eyes were wide open in shock, a look of horror mirrored in
it. She had a broken neck.
Stifling a scream herself Aling Demetria looked inside the
clinic. She nearly fainted when she saw what was inside the clinic.
Baby footprints. Bloody baby footprints. All along the walls of·
the clinic.
Where did they come from?
Aling Demetria could not say. But after, as she related to the
police the whole story, she began to wonder:
"Were the footprints real? Or were they just the hallucinations
brought on by a guilty conscience?" 0
 oormibories of ooom

By Mario Banzon

Espana

T
hese stories came from my friend who spent her entire college
days living in a dorm. Living in a boarding house, she said, was
an eye-opening experience. There is always something going
on. Alcohol binges, catfights, girls weeping over two-timing boyfriends,
and sometimes, enraged parents of dropouts who have been duped
into believing their son was acing his studies.
The dorm my friend once lived in was along Espana Avenue. It
was a typical dormitory with rows of rooms on every floor and a long
gloomy corridor.
What was nice-or terrible?-about it was that the room.:; had
thin wood for walls so they could always eavesdrop on what was hap-
pening in the other rooms. And, according to her some rooms never
ran out of action.
T~uE PHfLfPPfNE ~HoST STokJES ~ooK ?

There was one room, however, that the students didn't even
want to come near to, des-pite it being at the top of the stairs right
next to the exit.
The room had been unoccupied for the past two semesters
before my friend moved into the dorm because of the tragedy that
occurred in the room. Rumor had it that its previous occupant had
killed herself.
Soon after her death strange things began to happen.
Footsteps would be heard outside the corridor during un-
godly hours. The footsteps would begin at the girl's room and would
pace from the other end and back again.
One time, when my friend was studying for her exams, she
heard a soft knock on her door. When she opened it, nobody was
there.
At that time she had no inkling that something strange was
happening. After all, she was cramming for an exam and hadn't had
any sleep, so the last thing that she thought about was a ghost. This is
why she wasn't spooked when she heard the rap on her door.
A few minutes after, a slight knock interrupted her again, and
again she opened it without much thought.
A few seconds later, the rapping was repeated. But this time
it was more like a pounding.
"Ano ba? Sino ba iyan? (Hey, who is that?!!!,)" she snarled.
She bolted out of her study desk, cursing whoever was on the
other side of the door. She was already screaming the names of the
usual suspects when she went to the door and opened it.
It was then she realized something: she was alone in the build-
ing. Everyone had gone to a party!
Suddenly it dawned on her: It was tne girl.
She quickly went back to her desk, dosed her books and hit
the sheets. That night, she slept with the lights on.
 Apparently her experience was rather a common occurrence
in that building. It had even become some sort of rite of passage for
students living in that boarding house.
The boarder who had the bad luck to occupy the haunted
room had it worse. Late at night, always late at nrght, she would hear
the dead girl praying the rosary over and over again. Sometimes, she
would hear the girl so clearly that she knew if she opened her eyes
she would see her right beside the bed kneeling before her.

Sta. Mesa
fter two semesters, my friend transfe~red to another boarding

A
.
house. This time in a newly constructed house in Sta. Mesa.
The _place, as she described it to us, had a magical quality to
1t. It was a ~1mple, one-story building with three bedrooms, two bath-
rooms, a k1tchen, and a spacious sala_
At the back ofthe house was a lush, large garaen, wn1cn mure
than made up for the polluted and grimy view along the highway. It
didn't look creepy at all. One wouldn't expect it to have a past. Which
it did.
As usual, all the normal hijinks of dormitory life could be found
there: all night alcohol binges, furtive escapades in the backyard, a
girl who flashes her boobs when drunk, and a greasy ugly dog named
Nestor (not his real name).
Doppelgangers abound the garden. Persons thought to be
out of town suddenly made an appearance. Friends of the previous
occupant kept calling at the most eerie hours- 12 noon, 3am, etc.
Doors creaked in the middle of the night and a white lady that
would appear every so often in the bathroom mirror during late nights.
The bathro<:>m itself was stifling, and bathers would come out
of it sweatier than when they went in.
My friend described the temperature inside the bathroom as
hell-like, as if the bathroom were a portable hell containing banished
souls.
But the incident that really crept my friend out happened one
day during exam week.
Alicia (not her real name) w~s in the living room with her room
mate, taking advantage of the cooler air. She had a pretty important
exam coming up and she was deep into her biology books.
Somewhere in the house, someone's radio was on, providing
background music to the studious group. All of a sudden, someone
heard a !oud cry.
"AAAAAAAH HHHHHH H!! !!!''
It was Alicia. For some reason, she was trembling from head to
foot and staring blankly ahead. She was babbling words that were
barely intelligible, talking very fast in a whisper.
"There's blood in the kitchen ... blood in the kitchen!" she whis-
pered over and over.
"She's having a seizure!" one of the girls said. Another rushed
to some of the rooms, calling for help.
As several dorm mates rushed to Alicia's aid, her ramblings
slowly became clearer.
"Somebody's been murdered ... the body's in the laundry
room!" she said.
Most of the people in the room were crept out. They could
feel their skin crawl.
Two or three of the braver ones rushed to the kitchen-just to
see whether if Alicia's ramblings had any grain of truth.
They all uttered a horrifying shriek upon reaching the kitchen.
True enough, there were bloodstains on the kitchen floor and
sink! Pinkish stains that could not be covered by the scrubbed white
tiles and newly painted walls.
At this Alicia fell into a dead faint. When she came to, she
could not remember what she did.
T~uE PHTLTWTNE 14HoST STo~TES ~ooK ?

By now the incident had aroused the interest of everyone in

the boarding house. At first, they thought to ask the landlady, but she
prevaricated and evaded the subject.
So, the students decided to investigate the matter on their
own: by taking out the ouija board.
At this point, there were more non-believers than believers,
particularly among those who were not eye witness to Alicia's seizure.
They were the ones most eager to ferret out the truth.
The night was set. Beers were taken out of the ref, the lights
were turned off, a candle was lit, and fingers pressed on the glass.
After a series of Hail Marys and Our Fathers without Amen, they sum-
moned the spirit.
At first nothing happened. No ghosts appeared. They did,
however, manage to rouse an elemental spirit living in the garden.
· My friend knew it wasn't a hoax because as soon as the glass
began to move the atmosphere suddenly changed. A thick blanket
of silence enveloped the entire room that even the air seemed to
stop moving. Their serious faces, illuminated by the lone candle, ap-
peared chiascuro-like before the circle of light.
The dwende said the ghost doesn't want to talk to them but
would make a connection through other means. Then the glass sud-
denly stopped and that was it. A brave student stepped outside the
circle and turned on the lights. Upon seeing their scared faces, the
group broke into a nervous laugh.
But just as they were beginning to cheer up, the phone rang.
The buzz sounded rather urgent, like calls in the middle of the night.
It was the ghost.
"Hello?" the voice at the other end of the line sounded nor-
mal. Not ghostly at all. Not like he'd been dead for 10 years.
He simply told them his name and said in a calm but insistent
manner that he wanted them all out.
Still dissatisfied with what they had unearthed so far, several

46
students asked a neighbor about the previous owner and she was
more than accommodating.
What she related was a grisly tale that could have easily made
the front pages of the popular tabloids.
According to her, a newly married couple had the house built.
The wife was a few months pregnant and the husband often worked
late. They had a maid. The house was in the last stages of completion
when the couple moved in. They had employed two carpenters who
stayed in the garage until the work was finished.
Trouble set in when the husband failed to pay the carpenters
their usual vyages. In revenge, the two barged into the house and
murdered the family. The first victim was the husband, whom they
found in the kitchen eating a late dinner. After the initial struggle,
they bludgeoned the husband on the sink hence the blood stains.
Then they found the maid in her room, raped her first and
then dragged her to the bathroom where they eventually killed her.
The pregnant woman was spared. She was locked up in her
room but the incident left her psychologically damaged. She is said to
be in a US mental institute now.
But, as my friend wondered, if she was locked up in the US,
whose ghost was it who lingered in their old bedroom? 0
 ueadless

By Judy May Geronimo

M
y boyfriend hails from far-flung Ozamis City, in Misamis Ori-
ental. Although he's m1grated to Mamla, he still goes oacK
from time to time to visit some relatives who still live there,
including his favorite uncle.
Uncle Gaspar was a middle-aged bachelor with a pleasant dis-
position. Unlike other men who got grouchy with age, Uncle Gaspar
remained cheerful and friendly, particularly to his neighbors, for whom
he had only good words.
Uncle Gaspar had a vegetable plantation in the next town
which he visited everyday. Along the way, he passed several neigh-
bors, whom he never failed to greet with a jovial"hello" and a compli-
ment.
"Pareng Ambo, ang gaganda ng mga tanim mong halaman
ah (Hey there Ambo, your plants are looking pretty)," he would call
out fondly to his bestfriend.
 "/nday, ang puna ng mangga mo hitik sa bunga, ang galing
mo kasing mag-alaga (lnday, your mango tree is heavy with fruit. You
really have a knack for growing these things)," he would tease an-
other neighbor.
This was his daily routine. In fact, his neighbors wouldn't think
their day complete until they see Uncle Gaspar winding his way around
the community and saying hi to them.
Needless to say, Uncle Gaspar was a favorite in the commu-
nity. Everybody liked him.
On one particular day, Gaspar was on his usual rounds, shout-
ing friendly greetings to every neighbor he passed. Spying his best
friend puttering in the yard, he waved excitedly and ambled over to
the fence.
"Bay, pahingi naman ng mga rosas mo mamaya pag -uwi ko.
Anibersaryo kasi ng kamatayan ni Nanay at balak kong dumaan sa
simbahan pagkagaling sa taniman ko. Anibersaryo kase ng kamatayan
ng nanay eh (Brother, may I have some of your roses later on? It's
Mother's death anniversary and I plan to pass by the church after
checking on my plantation to make an offering)," Gaspar requested,
with a smile.
Ambo was watering his plants with a tabo (dipper) and a pail.
With a smile and an answering greeting, turned at the sound of his
voice. He dropped the tabo in shock.
"Diyos ko (My God)!" he croaked, hurriedly making the sign
of the cross.
Gaspar had no head!!!
Ambo blinked once, twice. Finally, he rubbed his eyes in ear-
nest. But it was no use. Gaspar's head was gone! He was talking to a
headless body!
"Bay, para ka namang nakakita ng multo dyan. Masama ba
ang pakiramdam mo (Brother, you look like you've just seen a ghost.
Are you feeling alright?)" Gaspar noticed his agitation.
 "Ano bibigyan mo ba ako ng mga rosas mo (So, are you gonna
give me some of your beautiful roses)?" Gaspar persisted.
Ambo, who was still in a state of shock, merely nodded his
head. He blinked again, and this time, when he looked again, Gaspar
had his head back.
"Sige Bay, ipipitas na kita at daanan mo na fang mamaya (Okay
Brother, I will pick some for you. You can pass by for them later),"
Ambo answered, still bewildered.
Minutes after Gaspar left, Ambo was still wondering whether
what he saw was real or it was just a trick of the light. I really need to
ha_ve my eyes checked, he thought to himself.
By this time Gaspar was on his way to his vegetable planta-
tion.
Riding in his jeep, he saw an elderly woman with long white
hair on the road. She was vvearing a black dress and a black veil over
her head and was walking in a zigzag fashion.
Gaspar thought she was drunk or sick, so he tried to avoid
her. In his effort to avoid the old woman who seemed to pop out from
every direction, he failed to see the oncoming car.
Gaspar was dead on the spot.
At his wake, Ambo couldn't stop crying. He blamed himself
for the death of his best friend.
Beside him, several witnesses to the accident were talking
about it.
They said Gaspar was zigzagging on the road, like he was drunk
or avoiding someone on that fateful day.
The strange thing was, there was no one else in the area with
him.
Hearing this, Ambo spoke up
"Dapat nang nakita ko s'ya kanina na wafang u!o habang kausap
ko, dapat ay sinampal ko s'ya para di s'ya namatay. Hindi ba't may

?0
T~uE PHTLTPPTNE liiHoS'f S'fo~TES ~ooK ?

kasabihan tayo na pag nakakita ka ng taong buhay na walang ulo o di

kaya ay malabo ang mukha, sampalin mo agad para di matuloy ang
pagkuha ni Kamatayan (I should have slapped him when I saw him
earlier, then he wouldn't have died. Don't we have a saying that if you
see a person without a head, or whose face is blurred, it's a sign that
he's gonna die and that you should slap him to keep him from Death's
clutches)?" he asked sadly.
"Hindi ko nagawa sa kumpare ko kanina, dahil nagulat ako at
natakot (I wasn't able to do it because I was too stunned and scared.
I lost my wits." D
T~vE PHTLTPPJNE ~HoST STo~fES ~ooK ?

tamanapo

By Judy May Geronimo

This is the sad story of one of my high school friends.

Their family lived somewhere along Ma. Clara St. in San Fran-
cisco del Monte.
Her father, a neighborhood pediatrician, had a clinic beside
their house where all his patients would visit anytime of the day.
He was a great pediatrician and a well known personality in
their neighborhood, primarily because most of his neighbors brought
their children to him to be checked up, or when they became sick.
Even the children of the tricycle drivers in their place were his
regular patients.
All that changed one day, when an elderly woman together
with her 8-year-old son came to the clinic.
Dr. Reyes (not his real name). knew immediately that the pa-
tient was not from their place because that was the first time he saw
 -
T~vE Pl1fLfPPfNE 1411oST STo~fES ~ooK ?

them in his clinic.

"Dok tu/ungan n 'yo po ang anak ko, kung kani-kaninong duktor
na po kami kumunsulta, pero hindi malaman ang sakit ng anak ko
(Doctor, please help us. We've consulted several doctors but no one
can tell us what his problem is,)" cried Mrs. Delfin (not her real name).
"Ana po ba ang dinaramdam ng anak n'yo (Can you tell me
his symptoms?)" Dr. Reyes asked.
"Waf a naman pong sumasakit sa kanya o di kaya ay lag nat man
/amang pero big/a-big/a na lang po siya nagdedeliryo at tumitirik ang
mga mata (He doesn't experience any pain, nor does he have any
fever, but sometimes he suddenly falls into a delirium and his eyes roll
back in his head,)" Mrs. Delfin worriedly supplied.
Dr. Reyes asked the boy to lie down on the bed inside the
examining room.
"Hmmmm ... mukhang normal naman /ahat ng mga vital signs
niya at mukhang ma/usog naman siya, ana kaya ang diperensiya (His
vital signs are normal and he looks healthy enough. I wonder what
could be wrong with him?)" he told himself.
As he was checking on the body, the boy suddenly went into
spasms and started thrashing about, shouting:
"Ayoko na po, tama na po (Please stop it, I don't want any-
more.)"
Dr. Reyes had to hold down the boy to keep him from hurting
himself. After five minutes, Miguel passed out. When Dr. Reyes exam-
ined him, there was no pulse rate and no heartbeat as well.
The boy was dead.
The doctor was shocked, too. He didn't know what happened
nor what to say to the boy's mother, waiting outside tne room.
"Misis ... Huwag po sana kayong mabibig/a .... lkinalu/ungkot
kpng sabihing patay na po ang bata. Hindi ko po malaman kung ana
ang nangyari. Basta na lamang siyang nagkikikisay at maya-maya pa ~
ay nawalan ng ulirat. Nang tiningnan ko, hindi na siya humihinga.
~

??
(Madame ... please brace yourself ... I'm sorry to tell you the boy is dead.'
I don't understand what happened. One moment he was normal,
·then all of a sudden he began shaking and thrashing about. After a
few minutes he passed out. When I checked he wasn't breathing any-
more,)" the doctor swallowed convulsively.
"Ano????? Ang anak ko!!! Anong ginawa mo sa kanya???!!!
Pinatay mo siya! Pinatay mo siya!!!! (What? What happened to my
son? What have you done to him?You killed him! You killed him!!)"
the mother shouted.
Several people came to the door of the clinic to see what the
commotion is all about.
"Misis, hindi po (Madame, I didn't.)" the doctor said as calmly
as possible.
Mrs. Delfin lunged at him, trying to scratch his eyes out. He
tried to hold her off, but she seemed to have superhuman strength.
She managed to scratch him, leaving a big gash on his cheek.
She would have done more damage, but fortunately, other
people intervened. It took three people to hold her back. After she
calmed down however, she quietly collected her son and was never
heard from again.
The incident left Dr. Reyes in a state of confusion. He was
wracked with guilt for letting a boy's life slip through his hands. At the
same time, he didn't know what he could have done wrong to have
induced the boy's fit.
For several days, Dr. Reyes could not sleep, mulling the inci-
dent over and over, retracing the events of the day. He still couldn't
find the answer.
One night, about a week after the incident; the doctor fell
asleep on the couch in his office. After several minutes he began shout-
ing, waving his hand about.
"Hindi! Hindi ko kasalanan! Wala akong ginawang masama! (No!
It wasn't my fault! I didn't do anything wrong!)"
 T~uE PHfLfPPfNE ~HoST STo~fE$ ,_ooK ?

His wife rushed in and shook him awake.

"Ano ang nangyari? Bakit ka sigaw ng sigaw? (What hap-
-pened?) Why were you shouting and shouting?" she asked, handing
him a glass of water, which· the doctor took with shaking hands.
"Nanaginip ako. Nakita ko ang bata, nung una humihingi siya
ng tufong. Maya-maya dinuduro na niya ako at sinasabing ako daw
ang pumatay sa kanya. Htndl ko SJYa matmgnan ng deretso dahll parang
nanlilisik ang kanyang mga mata! (I dreamed of the boy. At first he
was pleading for me to help him. Then he pointed accusingly at me
and said I was the one who killed him. I couldn't look at him directly
because his eyes seemed to be ablaze with fury!)" the doctor said
gasping for breath.
For several nights, the doctor kept having the same dream.
Once, he woke up and thought he heard someone crying. He couldn't
turn around for fear that he would see the little boy sobbing. He cov-
ered his head with a blanket and tried to ignore the sobbing.
The sleepless nights took their toll on the doctor. He began
losing weight and became listless in the daytime, moving in a daze,
attending to his medical chores like a zombie.
After a year, he locked up his clinic and his family moved out
of the neighborhood.
Nobody knew what had become of Mrs. Delfin. And until now
the mystery of what really happened to her little boy remains.
Two years after they left the neighborhood in shame, my friend
told me that her dad had gone crazy.
He is now in a mental institution.
To this day, the house and clinic remain closed. Sometimes,
neighbors hear the sobs of a little boy/ saying "Tama na po! (Please/
thafs enough!t 0

?6
 The cemeberg

By Jherry L. Barrinuevo

S
erge is my closest friend. We met several years ago, when I
worked at this popular radio station where he was one of the
deejays.
Now Serge is your typical yuppie: young, upwardly mobile,
and dedicated to his job. To his credit however, Serge does not take
himself too seriously. He also has a wild and funny side that he lets
loose every once in a while.
But Serge is not a typical kind of guy.
For like Haley Joe Osment in the Bruce Willis movie, Serge
"can see dead people." Literally. He's one of those who have the third
eye-which means he's "sensitive" to the presence of other "beings"
on earth.
For more than 30 years he's been wracking his brains trying to
figure out if what he has is a gift or a curse.
 I still remember when I was still working at the radio station. I
would hear my officemates chatting about Serge's ghostly experi-
ences. I heard stories of him being possessed by entities that only
Serge could see. There are also stories wherein he would just be run-
ning scared from something that no one in the office sees. Sometimes
he would just scream in terror as if a horrible monster was in front of
him.
Once or twice I myself have been witness to some of these
incidents.
After a few months I left the radio station and now I work for a
newspaper. Despite the change in workplace, Serge and I remain
close, and I still hear of his adventures with these "other beings."
Every time we go out, he would point out to me the different
entities who have tried to contact him, or have made their presence
felt.
One of the eeriest stories I heard from him was the time Serge
decided to visit his grandmother's grave.
Being a clairvoyant, Serge dreads to be in cemeteries. Ac-
cording to him, cemeteries harbor numerous ghosts who are hungry
to make contact with the living .
. He says, when ghosts sense that a living person can see them
or communicate with them, they appear to the person and ask them
to relay their messages to their living loved ones, like what Patrick
Swayze did to Whoopie Goldberg in the movie "Ghost."
What makes the situation worse, he says, is that ghosts are
very persistent. They continually pester the medium until their mes-
sage is completely relayed.
So to prevent these ghosts from bothering him, Serge never
l. sets foot on any cemetery or even gets close.
Once, he made the mistake of driving by a cemetery in Metro
Manila. Without his realizing it, Serge fell asleep at the wheel. When
he awoke, he was shocked to see where his car had stopped.

?8
 At the very gate of the cemetery!
That was bad enough. what made his hair stand on end were
the eerie voices calling out to him, calling his name, entreating him to
hear their requests. Gunning the engine of his car, he immediately
sped from the place, the voices of the unseen beings fading away as
he drove farther and farther away from the place.
From then on, he made sure he never passed by any cern-
etery.
But one day Serge was invited by a friend to his party in one
of the small towns in Pampanga. Being a fun-loving guy, he didn't
think twice about accepting the invitation. Anyway, he said, he could
use a break from the grime and pollution of the city, not to mention
the stress of work and urban life.
Together with his friends they drove north to attend the party.
They all were expecting to have a fun-filled night. Serge, nor-
mally a conservative drinker, expected to cut loose and let down his
guard. For a moment, he forgot his special ability to see people who
already "crossed over."
He said to himself, "We are going to a party, no haunted houses,
no cemeteries, so no dead people.''
Even his friends, who knew about Serge's third eye, assured
him there would be no spooks lying in wait for them.
Unfortunately, his host failed to mention one thing: he lived
near a cemetery! Worse, they had to cross the cemetery to get to the
house. Serge upon learning of the situation quickly said, "Let's just go
back. I told you I would never set foot in a cemetery."
Upon hearing this, his friends called up their host:
"Pare, wala na bang ibang daan papunta sa inyo? A/am mo
namang kasama namin si Serge. Hindi kami puwedeng dumaan sa
sementeryo (Is there no other way to your house? You know that Serge
is with us and we can't pass the cemetery,)" one of his friends said.
"Pare, sorry, wa/a nang ibang daan eh. Nakalimutan ko nga
'T"vE PHTLTWfNE ~HoST STo"TES ,-.ooK ?

pala hindi puwedeng dumaan si Serge sa sementeryo, paano ngayon

yan (I'm really sorry but there's no other way. I completely forgot that
Serge can't go through the cemetery. What are you going to do now)?"
the host answered.
Serge's friends thought it would be a wasted trip if they just
turned around and went back to Manila, so they tried convincing him.
After several hours, Serge finally caved in.
After all, he thought, it's still broad daylight, what could hap-
pen?
What's more, he had his friends by his side. There's safety in
numbers-or so he wanted to think. Besides he didn't want to be a
kill joy-everyone was in vacation mode and going back to the city at
this time would definitely spoil the fun.
So they decided to go through with it.
Warily, they began their trek across the graveyard, stopping
every now and then to check on Serge's condition. He seemed quite
fine by the time they were halfway into the cemetery.
"He's gonna be okay with this one," a friend of his said.
But as they neared the exit to the cemetery, they noticed
Serge slowing down. He was bent over, like he was carrying some-
thing heavy on his back.
Thinking Serge was just probably not used to long walks and
was tiring out, they paid no heed to him at first.
As they approached their friend's house, at the end of the
cemetery, they looked back at Serge.
They were shocked to find Serge practically crawling. He was
bent so low like he could no linger carry the weight on his back. As
they rushed to help him, Serge fell unconscious.
They carrieci Serge to the house and laid him on a bed. After
several minutes, Serge regained consciousness. He was surprised to
see himself already inside the house.
He looked around and saw all his friends staring at him, wait-

60
·ing for him to tell
them what had hap-
pened, "What hap-
pened to you
Serge?" they asked.
He said all he ' \
could remember was
something getting
on his back as they
were going through
the cemetery. As
they walked deeper
and deeper into the
graveyard, the load
became heavier and
heavier. Later, he
heard children gig- --
gling. Serge felt as if
children were riding
on his back. Serge said it came to a point that he was hearing numer-
ous giggles and the load on his back became too heavy for him to
carry. That was the time he practically crawled his way through the
cemetery.
His friends were all astonished as he relayed his story. None of
them saw any children running around the cemetery. In fact the only
children they saw were the kids of their host.
As Serge finished relating his ordeal explanation, their host let
out a loud scream.
All eyes turned to him. He looked pale and shaken. Stutter-
ing, he gestured in the direction of the cemetery.
"How did you know? How did you know?" he said over and
over to Serge.
"Know what?" Serge asked, curious.
"That it is a children's cemetery!" 0

6l
T~uE PHTLTPPTNE ~HoST STo~fES J.ooK ?

Thevisib

By Mario Banzon

I have never really visited a cemetery during All Soul's Day.

Welt I did once, but I wasn't there to visit any of the graves.·
And I was drunk at that time, so I guess that doesn't really count.
But I've always thought it was nice to visit, along with the crowd.
Just think about it: droves of people, blankets all over the grass, flow-
ers, barbeques, kikiams, or whatever being sold on the sidewalks.
It's practically a picnic.
My father, however, was buried in the province and for the
last few years we haven't been visiting his grave.
So last year, when a friend asked me if I was going to the
cemetery that weekend (All Saint's Day fell on a Saturday), I thought
of something witty (or what I thought of to be witty, at least) to say.
"Bakit naming siya bibisitahin kung kami nga hindi niya binibisita
(Why would we visit him when he doesn't visit us at all?)" was my glib

6<2
reply to whoever asked me about my weekend plans.
In fact/ I squeezed out whatever laugh I could get with that
line, which wasn't even funny to begin with.
The weekend came and I forgot all about it until one particular
11
night when we sort of had a Visit."
My brother and I were preparing to go to bed. It was around
three in the morning. We had just watched TV in the sala and we were
in the process of turning off the lights in our room when we heard
someone at the door.
Someone was pushing it forward, trying to get in. At first I
thought it was a burglar so I sat up and listened very intently to the
noises at the door.
The truth is, I was scared to death of akyat bahay gangs. We
heard the lock click.
I mentally went over the list of people living in our house and
checked if somebody was still out. But I was sure everybody had come
home already.
The door began to creak. It seemed to have budged only an
inch before it was closed again. It was all done in silence, which freaked
me even more.
I was convinced that someone or some entity had just come
inside our house. After the door was locked the trespasser walked
across our living room.
The footsteps were very light, very soft/ they barely made a
sound but I could feel a presence and I could sense where it was
heading.
It went to my mother's room, which was just beside ours. I
knew this because I heard her door open.
I picked up our flat iron and bravely tiptoed to our sala. No
one was there.
I glanced at our door. I suddenly realized that we had a bolt.
Even if the person had a key/ he wouldnft be able to get into the

64
 T~ut PHfLTPPfNt ~HoST STo~ftS ._ooK ?

house because our door was locked from the inside.

"Hmmmm .... that's strange," I mused, before going back to
bed and tucking myself in.
The next day when I mentioned this to my mother she was
stunned. She said she had a dream about my father that night but
what it was all about she never really told us.
A few months later, I received news that the security guards
at my father's old office always see him walking around the premises.
They said his old gaunt figure still haunts the corridors of his
building, casuaiiy talking to the new guards about trivial matters. It
was only when the old timers explained to the new guards who my
· father was would they realize that they had been talking to a man
who'd been dead for about a decade.
My father, apparently, remained busy even in the afterlife.O

6?
fk,uE PHfLfPPfNE ~HoST STok,fES ~ooK ?

ohosli of ascorned
woman
By Judy May Geronimo

M y friend's boyfriend, Donald had an ideal family ... or so he

thought.
His parents were perfect. His father was a God-fearing, law-
abiding and good provider, while his mother was the perfect home-
maker.
For a long time, they lived in peace and harmony.
One day, this peace was shattered when Donald's mother felt
a slight twinge in her chest.
Thinking it must be some kind of pulled muscle, she was not
bothered. She simply slapped rubbed a little Ben Gay and ignored
the pain.
But the pain kept coming back, and as the days passed be-
came even worse. Soon, she could barely lift her right arm, because
the pain in her chest had spread to her shoulder and was travelling

66
Tl::.uE PHiLiPPiNE ~HoST STol::.iES ,-.ooK ?

down her arm. She found it excruciating to do the simplest chores.

Finally, she sought her family doctor to find out what was wrong
with her. The doctor referred her to another specialist, who ran sev-
eral diagnostic tests on her.
When the results came, the doctor asked her to come to the
clinic. But she wasn't prepared for the news.
"Mrs. Aguilar, the tests results came in. I'm afraid I have some
bad news. You have breast cancer. I'm sorry," her doctor said regret-
fully.
At first Donald and his father ranted against what Fate had
dealt them. But they realized they had to accept God's plan, they
resigned themselves to losing her.
Mercifully, his mom did not suffer long. In two months, she
was gone.
Donald and his father tried to live a normal life after his mother's
death. But it seems his mother is the one who can't find peace in her
death.
A week after Mrs. Aguilar was laid to rest, Donald and his Dad
went back to work.
After a few weeks, Donald noticed that his father began going
home late. Donald was used to this, his father is a known workaholic
and would usually keep late nights even while his mother was still
alive. But Donald noticed that his Dad was going home later than
usual, and more often than usual.
When Donald confronted his father, his dad merely shrugged
his shoulders and said:
"Gusto kong lunurin ang sarili ko sa trabaho para malimutan
ko ang nangyari sa Mama mo. Miss na miss ko na siya (I want to drown
myself in work because it's the only way ! can forget the loss of your
mother. I miss her so much,)" he said.
Donald understood this. He missed his mother too.
Out of habit, Donald would peek into his parents' room every-
Tt;.vE PHfLfPPfNE ~HoST STot;.fES ~ooK ?

day when he got home, just to check on things.

But of course, there was no one there.
One thing he noticed, though, was that every time he dropped
by his parents' room, he would find his mother's things on the floor.
Like someone threw her things around.
At first he thought it was the family cat. But how could the cat
get into the room when it was closed the whole day?
Patiently, he would pick up his mother's things and replace
them on the dresser.
But every night, the situation in the room got worse.
Donald wondered who the vandals could be. He became an-
gry, thinking someone was pawing through his Mom's things.
One day, things came to a head when he found the room in
total disarray.
A picture of his parents lay on the floor, the frame broken, the
glass shattered, and the picture torn to bits.
Seeing this, he became furious. Who would do such a hateful
thing? he thought. Knowing he could no longer handle the situation
by himself, he decided to visit his Dad in his office to tell him what had
been happening.
But when he got to his father's office, he didn't even have to
ask his dad anything. The answer was right before his eyes.
There was his dad, and on his lap, kissing him passionately,
was a woman who was not his mother.
Donald caught his father with another woman.
"Dad, aka/a ko masaya ang pamilya natin! Bakit mo nagawa
ito? Hindi mona ginalang ang Mommy. Kaya pala hindi matahimik ang
kaluluwa niya, kahit sa kabilang buhay, dahil matagal mona pala kaming
niloloko (Dad, I thought we were one happy family, how could you do
this? Have you no respect for Mommy? It's no wonder she couldn't
find peace, even from beyond the grave-because you've been fool-
ing us all this time)!" 0

6e
 cibg of ohosbs

By Jherry L. Barrinuevo

W hen it comes to spooky places, ghosts normally gravitate to

dark, old buildings. Particularly those with a history.
In Old Manila, no place has more history than the Walled City.
lntramuros-behind the noisy fat;ade of Wow Philippines is a
catacomb of old cells, ruined fortresses and dark, dank crevices where
shadows hint of unforgettable horrors.
This former battleground during the Spanish, Japanese, Ameri-
can wars oozes with spine-tingling and hair-raising horror stories.
Psychics and supernatural experts believe that because of lntramuros'
dark and violent past, supernatural activities became common to the
place.
The Walled City, the former enclave of Manila's rich, was also
home to the notorious Fort Santiago, site of untold suffering and tor-
ment. One can imagine the many tortured souls that walk there.
T~uE PHfLfPPfNE ~HoST STo~fES ~ooK ?

A couple of years ago, before the onset of Wow Philippines,

lntramuros was a late night gimikero's quiet alternative to the noisy
celebration of Malate-with fine dining restaurants and coffee houses
tucked into cozy cubbyholes.
And a few resident ghosts.
Halloween was just around the corner. My editor asked me if I
could think of a scary story we could feature for Halloween. I told her
I knew someone who is a clairvoyant and I can do a feature story on
him. My editor gave me the nod so I called up my subject and told
him I would like to do the interview.
We agreed to do it in lntramuros, since it is the nearest and
most convenient place for me to do our tete-a-tete.
But upon arrival, it was pretty plain that Neil {not his real name)
was reluctant to venture into lntramuros.
"Huwag doon, madaming multo doon, ayoko sana kasi ayaw
ko na nakakakita pa ng ganoon (Not there, there are a lot of ghosts
out there, I don't want to stay there because I don't want to see those
kind of things anymore)" he said trying to persuade me to hold the
interview some place else. I told him that I couldn't find any other
place to do the interview so he finally acceded to my request.
We did our interview at night. We went to this famous coffee
shop and picked a nice place to talk. But before we could get started,
Neil said that we better get something to drink betore we began the
interview. We both went to the counter and looked at the list of the
available drinks.
I turned to Neil to ask him what he was gonna have, I noticed
that Neil was getting fidgety. He looked pale and looked like he was
about to faint. Concerned, I asked him, "Pare a no ang problema?
(Dude, what's the problem?)"
"Wala naman (No nothing,)" he shrugged, "ikaw na bahala
kung ano ang order mo iyon na rin ang sa akin. Eto na pare ang pera,
ikaw na ang magbayad, babalik na ako sa mesa, hantayin kita dun
(Nothing, just take care of the orders, I'll just have what you're having.
T~vE PHfLfPPfNE ~HoST STo~fE$ ~ooK ?

Here's the money, please pay for me. I'm going back to our table to
wait for you.)"
I watched Neil walk back to our table. Every once in a while,
he would look over his shoulder at something near the counter.
As I got our orders and made my way to the table, I won-
dered what the hell scared Neil from the counter. Before sitting down
I asked him again what happened, and he still answered, "Nothing"
We started the interview. I asked Neil questions while sipping
my cup of coffee. I found out that he'd been seeing spirits and other
entities since he was a child. He remembered running to tell his mom
everytime he saw one, thinking they saw what he saw too.
His mom and sisters became used to him pointing to things or
beings that were not there.
He said being "near" supernatural entities runs in his family.
He had a lola who was a faith healer who cured victims of witchcraft.
He also added that some of his sisters could not see, but could feel
when something "extraordinary" was about.
He also recalled when his mom brought him to a soothsayer.
The soothsayer told his mom that he had strong energy when it comes
to contacting the dead and other supernatural life forms.
"She tested my power by putting tarot cards on the table in
front of me. She asked me to feel every card and tell her what it is
saying. He was amazed because I correctly identified every card."
Neil's special ability also caused him to be invaded by ghosts
everyday in his room. "I was waking up with someone in front of me. It
was so scary, that's the reason I have always my Bible beside my bed."
He said that these creatures want him to relay a message to the living
or sometimes let him know that a catastrophe is coming.
He also experienced being possessed by thirteen ghosts,
which took almost a week before priests exorcise them. " We played
spirit of the glass, and my friends asked me to call on spirits. I called
the spirits and they all went inside me and controlled my body. Since
tnen my third eye became stronger."

:z Jl
T~uE PHfLfPPfNE 'iHO$'T STo~fE$ ~ooK ?

He told me some other experiences. Like seeing the ghost of

a person whose wake he was attending, and seeing the gho5t of a
friend who told him he was killed brutally. And seeing 18 ft. tall crea-
tures in his office.
"Even my officemates have gotten used to me. Some of them
even use me as a barometer for when something bad is about to
happen."
Neil by the way also can perceive catastrophes and calamities.
"Sometimes even the water and the wind whispers to me if a
big calamity is coming," he said.
But Neil doesn't consider his extraordinary ability as a gift. To
him it is a curse, which burdened him for years. "I really don't want to
be like this. Imagine seeing these creatures every day. They give me
sleepless nights. They terrify me. And I also don't like seeing bad
things that would be happening in the future."
Neil and I finally decided to end the interview as it was already
getting late, and we were the only ones left in the coffee shop. I had
also enough details for me to write. As I was about to bid goodbye to
Neil, I again asked what spooked him at the counter earlier.
This time his answer made my jaw drop.
"A huge black entity was at the counter staring angrily at me.
I couldn't tell you that I could see him, because he told me not to.
Even while we were talking, he kept looking and listening to us trying
to monitor if I would tell you that I saw him. He is not a ghost but a
Iaman lupa (supernatural being).
After a few days, I called a friend of mine who knew someone
working in the coffee shop. I asked her if they had been experiencing
strange things in the area. Her friend said that there are nights when
pots, pans and glasses would fly around. She also said that she and
her fellow workers would have goose bumps every time they ven-
tured near the counter.
Like someone walked over their graves. 0
 crgingtadg

By Mario Banzon

When my friend's grandmother died her mother was incon-

solable.
Mrs. Montez (not her real name) wept constantly: at the hos-
pital bed where Lola Ynez drew her last breath, at the funeral home,
where the tamlly held a tive-day wake, and tinally, at the cemetery,
where she was brought to her final resting place.
Mrs. Montez' grieving continued even after the tomb was
sealed in cement and the last remaining relatives went back home to
the provinces.
On the night after the burial, Mrs. Montez locked herself in
the master's bedroom and refused to come out.
At first, her family left her alone, thinking she needed time to
grieve.
Dinner came but Mrs. Montez still refused to budge from her
T~VE PHfLfPPfNE ~HoST STo~fE$ ~ooK ?

position. She remained stoic at the far end of the bed, completely
wrapped in a thick blanket.
She just lay there alternately crying and staring at the white
wall. Much, much later, after years passed, Mrs. Montez would tell her
kids the vacuum she felt after her mother's death.
She said her grief was so acute she even felt it physically. She
was so devastated that she couldn't move. A slight movement would
cause pain to vibrate throughout her body so she tried to remain as
motionless as possible. She was literally paralyzed by her loss.
But at the time, her family thought she was being overly dra-
matic. One by one they trooped to the master's bedroom at the en-
couragement of their father and offered their comfort.
But none of them were successful, not even the father who
had decided to give his wife her space. After tucking her in, the hus-
band turned off the lights and went to sleep in the guestroom.
The mother cried the entire night. It was one of those crying
marathons where she would fall asleep from exhaustion and upon
waking up, resume weeping again.
It must have been dawn when she woke up and heard some-
one crying beside her. She thought it was her daughter so she just lay
on the bed and listened to her sobs.
But as the sobs grew louder, she realized it wasn't one of her
children at all.
The voice sounded familiar. In fact, very familiar that she sort
of had an inkling who the person was.
But she couldn't turn around, and it took her a few minutes to
muster enough courage to turn around and find out the identity of
the weeping person beside her.
She was right. It was her mother. 0
 rhe Kamuning Lover

By Maricris Baca/a

H ong Kong in late November is just perfect for a trip. I was

among the lucky ones chosen to participate in a tour hosted
by one of the world's top air carriers.
Great, I thought, I can get some Christmas shopping done.
I felt pampered all throughout the trip, enjoying only the best
services on offer: business class seats on the plane, first class hotel
accommodations, sumptuous food and a whirlwind tour of the island's
famous spots.
It was the perfect vacation for me.
I have been breaking my back for the past three montl->s as a
feature writer for one of the glossy magazines in town. Our publica-
tion is centered on personalities and issues, and would oftentimes be
heavy on research.
Sometimes I would be assigned to report on the effects of the
T~VE P~fLTPPfNE 41iiD~T STO"TES JDDK ?

latest disease, like hepatitis B, and at others I would be told to inter-

view a reclusive business tycoon.
But things are not all as glamorous as they seem. Putting the
stories together entails research and sometimes a lot of legwork.
Plus, there's always the pressure of an upcoming deadline
hounding you, sometimes even in your sleep.
In the past three months, I have also been pinch hitting for
our publication's managing editor, who is on maternity leave.
This means that, for the past three months, I have been put·
ting the publication "to bed", inheriting all the tension, pressure and
attendant headaches that being a managing editor entails.
This is why, when I was offered to cover the launching of a
book in Hong Kong, I immediately jumped at the chance.
Fortunately, Lisa, our managing editor was due back from her
leave and my editor-in-chief allowed me to join the tour.
The first two days of the tour passed by in a blur of cocktails,
luncheons, and of course, shopping tours. We barely had time to rest
before we were dragged to another party or function.
At the end of another full day of touring around the territory,
I decided to make it an early night and catch up on my sleep.
After enjoying a long luxurious bath in the tub, I finally settled
in for the night.
I went over the day's events in my mind as I slowly drifted off
to dreamland.
I had just dozed off when I was rudely awakened by some
force pressing me down on the bed. Vaguely, I tried to think whether
i was alone in the room.
Slowly I gathered my wits and remembered where I was -
alone in a hotel in Hong Kong.
I tried to sit up, but I couldn't lift my head. I felt a heavy weight
across my chest, like something was laying on top of me. Oh no, this

!-6
T~vE PHTLTPPTNE liH0$1' S1'o~fE$ ~ooK ?

couldn't be happening again!

This wasn't the first time this happened to me.
A few months ago, I also woke up in the middle of the night. I
was at my rented room within the confines of a gated village in Makati.
Someone or something was pressing me down on the bed. It
was pressing down on me so hard, I could hardly breathe. I was so
scared because I thought this would lead to an attack of asthma. I had
asthma ever since I could remember and sometimes stressful events
triggered my attacks.
I cracked my eyes open, and what I saw nearly made me faint
with fright! Sitting on top of me was a creature so hideous, I could
barely describe it. The best I could say was that it resembled a horse
standing on its two hind legs.
I shut my eyes tight and prayed hard. After a while, I felt the
pressure ease, and then, all of a sudden it was gone!
I slapped at the lamp switch beside the table. Light flooded
the room. There was no one there.
But that was three months ago, and several thousand kilome-
ters away, in Makati. How could it be happening again? How could 'it'
follow me to Hong Kong?
I could barely muster enough courage to open my eyes. I
knew what I would see and I prayed so hard I cried. This time the
pressure on my chest was like a vise getting tighter and tighter.
I don't know what happened next. I think I lost consciousness.
But when I woke up, it was broad daylight, and the hotel phone was
ringing off the hook on the night table beside me.
I sat up, but immediately fell back down on the bed, weak as
a newborn kitten. I searcheq the night stand for my asthma medica-
tion and immediately took it.
I tried to act normal in front of the other people in the tour
until we flew home to Manila.
When I got home, I immediately called up my cousin Anna to
T~IJE PWfLfPPfNE ~HoST STo~fES ~ooK ?

help me look for a psychic who could perform a "tawas" or candle

ritual that would purge the spirit that kept following me.
We found one in our old neighborhood in Kamuning.
The psychic said the spirit was that of a "lamang lupa" or earth
creature who fell in love with me when I was 16 years old and living in
Kamuning.
She tried to purge the spirit out of me, but to no avail.
The psychic said the creature was very stubborn. It has formed
an attachment to me and has vowed to stay with me wherever I would
go.
Which is whiit is still with me. Until now.
 olood in bhe Room

By Jonathan C Celeste

W e Filipinos have a number of traditions and superstitious

belief that we religiously observe. We have practices for
getting married, taking care of a newborn child, and even
constructing or moving into a new house.
As a Pangasinense, our family keeps some rituals too.
When my sister's house was built, Pangasinenses' that we were,
we kept up our belief that before laying the groundwork of any con-
struction, animals' blood should be poured on the pillars of the house
so that the house could withstand any earthquake that will rock its
foundation.
It was just like in the Bible when God ordered Moses to paint
the door of every Israelite's house with lamb's blood so that the Angel
of Death would pass over them, thus giving birth to the Feast of the
Passover.

7a
Fl '
T~uE PHTLTPPTNE ~HoST STo~fES ~ooK ?

My uncle who headed the team that built my sibling's house

bought a live goat, offered it to the spirits of the place, slaughtered
the animal and poured the goat's blood on the pillars.
This tradition also applies to the construction of bridges. In
our province of San Carlos City, Pangasinan, old folks in town say that
to make a bridge strong, human's blood must be offered, preferably
a child's blood.
Our old folks used this belief to scare chilqren in town who
played outside at night. They say a man from the construction team
will get the naughtiest kid and offer his/her blood.
Although this speculation that a kid's blood is offered was never
proven, it grew in popularity and gained the notoriety of an urban
legend.
As I was growing up, I thought this weird practice was only a
tell tale.
But something happened to our community in Sta. Cruz, Ma-
nila- that made me think twice.
The house next to ours was a big old Spanish house. It be-
longed to an old rich clan whose surname can be found in one of
Paranaque City's streets. Since there was no one else left to inherit
the house, the family decided to sell it to some real estate develop-
ers.
The new owners wanted the old creepy house torn down. In
its place, a five-story apartment was to be built.
Naturally, a throng of construction workers was deployed to
build the edifice. As they were about to tear down the old house, the
team encountered several difficulties.
First they had a hard time pulling down the steel rope they
tied to one of the walls of the house. After about two days of painstak-
ing effort and mind-boggling brainstorming on what strategy to could
best be used to bring down the walt an old Visayan carpenter named
Mang Simon (not his real name) suggested to his foreman that they
make an offering to the spirits of the dwelling.

eo
 At first the foreman was confused. How could an offering bring
down a wall? But he was running out of ideas, so he obliged.
So the crew bought a live chicken, skit its throat and offered
its blood to the spirits.
The following day, on their first attempt to tear down the wall,
they were all surprised when the wall was easily brought crashing down
to the ground. They were even more surprised when they were clear-
ing the rubble. Three skulls and several human bones were unearthed
on the site! How could that be when an old house was the only struc-
ture on the site all this time?
Mang Simon said they might have been buried there for a
longest time. But to whom did the skulls and bones belong to? The
old man said, maybe when the house was being built, three human
beings were sacrificed and offered to the spirits.
A month passed and the rubble had been removed. The con-
struction team began to dig into the earth to lay the foundation for
the building's pillars.
One Friday 111orning, shocking news awakened our commu-
nity. Mang Simon was found brutally stabbed dead in the heart in the
makeshift quarters of the construction site.
His co-workers said Mang Simon probably had a fight with
someone he was drinking with. The old man just couldn't hold his
liquor .and would become hotheaded whenever he got drunk. He
must have pissed off someone violent.
The night before, the workers said, Mang Simon was just nor-
mal. He cooked the crew's dinner and played some cards and went
out for some drink. Nobody noticed when he came back to the site.
What made this creepier was Mang Simon's corpse was prac-
tically emaciated-thin and dried up, when only last night, he was
positively plump.
Mang Simon's autopsy report declared he died of 13 stab
wounds. Not only that, Mang Simon's body had shed about a cup of
blood when he was being embalmed. His body had been bled dry!
T~\JE PHTLTPPTNE liiHoST STo~fES ~ooK ?

I don't know if it was just plain coincidence but the day the
poor Mang Simon was found dead, the foreman ordered the immedi-
ate pouring of cement on the site.
Mang Simon's case was logged with the police but to this day,
no one was ever caught.
Months passed and soon no one in the community remem-
bered the crime. The building was finished and new neighbors moved
into the brand new apartment.
The place bore no traces of the brutal crime that took place
there. Until one night.
The maid of a Chinese family that lived in one of the units
woke up shouting at the top of her lungs.
She said she saw bloodstains painted inside her room.
The following day, they found out, this was the exact area where
Mang Simon's body was found. 0

IF uou nave anu gnmm snorms. Feel Free no snare nnem wmn us.
E-mail UB an [email protected]
snail Mail an PSICOM PUOliBnmg ~~~- .
cunao. ouezon emu. PntbllDtnesll09
BYale Sn..
ro us an +639189305034
T~\JE PHfLfPPfNE ~HoST STo~fES ,-.ooK ?

3 Stories As Told By Larry Imatani, Pilipinas Makro, Inc. - Pampanga

cousin who called uer Plagmabe

A female cousin of mine who was living with us passed away
when she was around twelve years old. During the time of her wake,
we went home after visiting her body at the funeral parlor.
Upon coming home, I decided to bring my one and a half
year old daughter to the back of the house and see some of the birds
in my dad's aviary. On the footpath leading to the aviary, I kicked a
glass which was left there. I was quite surprised but also stunned since
it was usually my newly deceased cousin who would do such things. I
decided to sweep the broken fragments away using a dustpan and a
walis-tingting.
As I was putting my child down on a plastic bench in order to
get the cleaning tools, I heard the voice of my cousin calling my child's
name. She said "Chrizel, Chrize/". The voice sounded like it was echo-
ing and what is worse is that it was coming from above my head. It
sounde,~ exactly like my cousin. The scarier thing is that my daughter
ansvve:·=:d back, looking above my head talking to the one calling her.
I feit my head swelling. Nevertheless I was in disbelief but did not find
the courage to look up behind me and see who was calling her.
So I decided to still sweep away the glass fragments quickly in
order to make sure no one gets hurt from stepping on them. I was still
feeling my head swelling. After sweeping the glass and as I was pick-
ing up my child from the plastic bench, I again heard the voice calling
my child twice again. And again my child answered back.
This time I was convinced that it was my cousin. My daughter
happened to be her favorite playmate when she was still alive. Still in
disbelief, I went inside and asked everyone if they were calling my
daughter. They replied that they cannot call her because they were
all in the sala watching TV while my daughter and I were all alone at
the backyard which was three rooms away from the sala. 0

Noises nb The workplace

I used to work for a health insurance company in Makati. The
office used to be a hospital and there have been several stories lying
about. I happened to have two myself. One night I was working late,
about 9 pm thereabouts when I heard the water faucet being used at
the pantry which was behind my cubicle. It sounded like someone
was washing his hands and eating utensils. The pantry was at the end
corner of the floor and anyone who would use it would have to pass
my cubicle. Needless to say, I would know if someone will use the
pantry since I would see them passing by. So when I heard that some-
one is inside and that I missed whoever it was, I thought I needed a
break from being too engrossed with my emails to even notice him or
her. So I stood up to chat with the person for a while, To my surprise,
the pantry lights were off. I turned it on and looked for whoever was
inside washing his dishes in the dark. There was no one around. I
decided to pack up my things and go home. Our resident ghosts are
telling me to let them rest.
At another time, I went to the seventh floor to submit a report
to my boss. It was 7:30 pm then. Since he had already left, I was told
to just put it on top of his desk. On my way to his office, I heard
someone whistling from the IT department and it was dark. So after
putting the report on my boss' desk, I decided to see who was work-
ing there. I turned on the lights and found no one. I asked the guard
and he said he was not whistling at all and was in fact in the comfort
room when I entered the floor. I was all alone in the floor when I heard
the whistling.
My staff have their story to tell. One time a couple was prac-
ticing for a Christmas party presentation. They were dancing when all
of a sudden, the female staff shouted because she saw a head on top
of a PC monitor.
 One staff decided to report for work on a Sunday. He heard
children running inside the office and giggling. He also heard folders
and other office paraphernalia being dropped on the floor. Then while
stoopinq down to do his paperwork, he felt someone hoverinq over
him. He also saw someone passing by him but when he took a closer
look there was no one in the office except him. 0

corregidor chosbs
There was a time that my former employer sponsored a values
formation camping trip for the male children of his plant. l joined as
one of the facilitators. We went to Corregidor for one week. During
this time, my companions had experiences which made our hair stand.
One was while we were camped at the topmost which they
called Topside, one of our doctor companions tried taking a nap on
the grass beside the ruins of Cine Corregidor. lt was about 12 noon
then. As he was about to fall asleep, he heard a violent stomp of a
booth near the top of his head. When he looked, there was no one
around. The facilitators and the children were inside the museum look-
ing at some war mementos. This happened to him three times before
he decided not to take his nap there.
At another incident, the facilitators where taking shifts in guard-
ing the children at night. The shift was for two hours. lt was decided
that it would be three facilitators per shift who will guard the kids.
When the 12 to 2 shift finished, one of the guys decided to do some
laundry. Our children were camped at the front of a ruined building
that they called Bachelor's barracks. The faucet where he would do
the laundry was at the back. As he was washing his clothes, he heard
someone whistling and dragging his feet inside the ruins. He called
the name of his shift mates but no one answered. Then the whistling
sound and the dragged feet disappeared. lt was probably one of the
officers who died there during the war. 0
 HT THE UST Main BUilding
By Maria Teresa Ozarraga

This happened about four years ago my friend and I were

freshmen at the University of Santo Tomas It was at the UST Main
Building the oldest building in the University. It was another one of
those rainy days that it was too late when they announced that classes
were cancelled, I got to school at around 6:45 am only to find out that
classes were cancelled. I had made plans with my friend the day be-
fore so I decided to wait for her since she told me that we would still
go on with our plans. When she got to school she asked if I could
accompany her to the comfort room. Naturally we used the comfort
room that was in the first floor since the aura of the whole building was
too eerie we didn't dare go anywhere else.
While we were at the ladies room, I jokingly asked her "what if
may makita tayo na white lady or something??, ana kaya gagawin
natin?" She told me "'Wag kang ganyan!" After that we just laughed
it off then went out of the ladies room. We were barely 10 meters
away from the ladies room when she told me that she had to call our
other friend that was going to go with us.
She was facing the door of the ladies room and my back was
slightly facing the door so I could still get a slightly good view if some-
one was going in or out of the ladies room. Just as she was about to
call our friend I noticed that the door opened, I knew that it was open
because I noticed the light coming out of the ladies room then I no-
ticed that there was a dark figure that covered the light. With that, I
started to convince myself that someone else might be in the build-
ing or something, I wasn't going to say anything to my friend until she
asked me ... " Nakita mo yun?? Bumukas yung pinto di ba?"l answered
her "oo" I was starting to get a little scared. Then I asked her "meron
bang pumasok?" she answered me ... "WALA" with that we just started
to walk away from the door we didn't dare look inside to confirm
whether or not someone was inside.

86
T~uE PHiLiPPiNE ~HoST STo~fES ~ooK ?

Though some may say it might have been the wind, but what
would explain the dark figure that entered the door? ... 0

NUN OF THE HBOVE

by Katrina Salvador

I studied at St. Scholastica's Academy of Marikina from sec-

ond grade to senior high schooL During my eight years of stay in my
alma mater, I've heard countless ghost stories about spirits haunting
the halls of the schooL This story I'm about to narrate is just one of the
many that gave me the chills. At around 7 pm in the evening, security
guards do their rounds around the campus. One of our lady guards
was assigned to do her rounds in the high school building. She was
about to leave the third floor when she saw a nun walking at the hall-
way approaching her. The guard knew that during that time, the sis-
ters are praying at the chapeL Confused with what the nun is doing at
the third floor, she decided to wait for the nun to reach her, perhaps
greet her a pleasant evening and ask her what she's doing at the said
floor. As the nun approaches her, she realizes that the nun is not walk-
ing! She is floating in the air! Shocked with what she saw, the guard
jumped at the staircase rushing her way down. 0

ooppleganger?
By Hannah 14, los baiios, Laguna

Nabasa ko po yung libra ninyong sinulat, At naliwanagan ako.

Kasi matagal na akong nagtataka tungkol doon sa isang being na
kamukha ko na gumagala sa bahay. Naisip ko na ito yung
"doppelganger" ko. Kasi nagsimula iyon noong naglilinis ng bahay
yung maid namin sa kuwarto ko. Sabi nya sa akin na nakausap niya ako
sa loob ng kuwarto ko. lnutos ko daw sa kanya na linisin nya yung
kuwarto ko. Pagdating ko sa bahay, nakita ko na malinis yung kuwarto
ko at sabi ko kay Ate Maricris (maid) na sana di nalang siya nag-abala
T~vE Pl1fLTPPfNE ~11o$T $To~fE$ ~ooK ?

dahil kaya ko namang linisin yun ng mag-isa. Sabi niya inutos ko daw.
Nagtaka pa siya kung saan ako pupunta at ba't daw ako nakabihis.
Sabi ko kakagaling ko lang sa bahay ni lola. Nagtaka siya kasi daw ay
kausap niya lang ako kanina.
lsa pa ay yung gumawa kami ng project ng mga kaklase ko sa
bahay namin. Lumabas ako ng terrace para manguha ng batong maliliit.
Pagbalik ko tinanong ako ng isa kong kaklase na bakit nasa labas ako
at sabi ko daw kanina ay masama ang pakiramdam ko. Eh kakausap
lang daw niya sa akin kanina sa taas at saka nagpalit daw ba ako ng
damit? Kasi naka blue kang sweater kanina, tumawa pa nga ako kasi
ang init-init tapos naka sweater ka. Sabi ko naman daw ay giniginaw
ako at masama ang pakiramdam ko. 0

sa vacabion ko sa fairview
Niyaya ako ni Tita na mag-stay muna ako sa bahay niya, mag-
isa lang kasi siya doon. Tuwing umaga hanggang 5:00 pm, mag-isa
ako sa bahay kasi nag-oofice siya, may-ari kasi siya ng isang kumpanya.
Noong ikaiawang araw ko ng pag-stay sa bahay niya naisip kong
magwalis sa labas ng bahay, kasi wala siyang katulong. Actually
inuupahan niya lang yung bahay na iyon ng P15,000. May bahay kasi
sila sa Singapore, Germany at America. Ayaw ng asawa niyang
magpatayo ng bahay dito sa Pilipinas. Pagkatapos kong magwalis,
naligo ako doon sa pinakamalaking CR sa bahay, yung may malaki ring
salamin. Pagkatapos maligo, tiningnan ko ang itsura ko sa salamin.
Ang dami kong pimples, sabi ko sa sarili ko, makabili nga ng clean and
clear. Tapos ang bilis ng pangyayari, biglang nag-iba ang itsura ko sa
salamin, gumulo ang buhok ko tapos puro dugo ako sa mukha.
Hinawakan ko ang mukha ko at wala namang dugo, pagtingin ko ulit
sa salamin, malinis na uli. Naalala ko tuloy yung mga kwento tungkol sa
Fairwiew at pati na rin mismo sa bahay.
lsa pa eh yung nanonood ako ng Lizzie Mcguire sa itaas, mga
11 :00 na yata noon. Big lang nag brown out. Matapang pa ako noon,
sabi nila may nagpapakita na white lady sa itaas pero hindi ako
T~vE PHfLfWfNE ~Ho5T STo~fES ,-.ooK ?

naniniwala. Nag-isip ako, bababa ba ako o mag-istay at

magkukunwaring natutulog. Naisip ko napag nagkunwari ako, baka
may humawak sa akin o kaya may marinig a kong kung ano, kaya naglakas
loob akong bumaba, mabilis, tapos patakbo ako na kinakapa ang
paligid, nang malapit na ako sa kwarto ni tita, may nakapa akong
malamig, pagdilat ko ng mata, nangilabot ako nang may nakita akong
babaeng nakaputing nakatingin sa akin, humiyaw akong papunta sa
kuwarto ni tita ..... tapos biglang nagkakuryente. 0

Hi call me Jhen ... Here's my unforgettable story... When I was

in my first year high school at SIENA COLLEGE O.C, there was a C.R.
which they call "Haunted by KIT", a second year student who died in.
an accident. Naqpaalam siva for their retreat but gumimik lang pale'
sila ng barkada niya when she had a car accident. Her favorite hang-
out is at the third floor C.R, where no one goes except for new stu-
dents like us. If you are there you can feel the unusual atmosphere of
being cold and scary. And for me I already heard her sobbing and
shoutinq at the said C.R. 0

Nighb Jumper
Anonymous

It was a cold night in our house in Bataan.i I was browsing the

web with my laptop a~d really felt something strange. I felt a very
cold rush of wind passed on my very long hair. I was scared a bit but
I just didn't mind it. But when I turned off my laptop, I heard some
rapping from our roof. Scratching ... horrible scratching, Iik~ a cat that
is chasing a rat. Then I heard it jumping, a very loud noise blazed all
over the house. I was so scared and shouted "Mama! Sino ba yun?"
(Mother, who is that?) Then I went outside and checked our house
and was horrified when I saw a bloodied-faced girl with a bleeding
gush around her neck.
 She was staring at me, very wildly. Her eyes were glaring as
an angry cat that wanted to crush a tiny rat. I shouted "Mama! Tingnan
mo to may multo! May multo! Hindi pala! aahm, ahm! Halimaw!
Ahhhhhh!/1 (Mother, take a look ... there's a ghost! A ghost! No it
is ... a monster ahhhhhh!) I started to cry when I saw her going down
the roof. Her very long hair was wet with blood and it was covering
her scary face.
I run to the door and tried to push it very hard and screamed
very loud, but I can't open the door! I was on the grip of horror when
a pair of red, beady eyes soared on our window inside our house.
The lady was gone but the eyes were still there. I screamed till my
mother opened the door.
Next day, I asked one of the few families who were living near
our house. They said that once there was this girl who had been
jumping on their roof like she was taking a suicide .. Then she will go
down and chase you and then a pair of bloody red eyes will appear
on the window. The residents says it was a very popular occurrence
there specially at 3:00 a.m.
We knew the history of that girl and they said that it was the
ghost of Mary Ann Martinez who attempted suicide by jumping from
the roof then fell inside their house.
After a scary encounter, we are no longer living in Manila ...
Hope I don't encounter anymore ghosts here! 0

By Juan Paolo De Leon

This story was shared by our maid's brother who experienced

paranormal. Let us call him Romulo, our co-resident in our barangay in
Nagrebcan Luna, La Union Philippines.
This story happened to him a few years ago when he was still
young and single. One day, Romulo and 3 of his friends planned to

'10
T~uE PHfLfPPfNE ~HoST STo~fES ~ooK ?

drink beer and have a good time that day.

They found an old house that is believed to be haunted but
they never believed it. It is really haunted because it is vacant and
unoccupied for so many years and the owners of the house went to
Hawaii and never came back until tod<!y. It is really dark and dirty
inside the house.
Romulo and his friends continue to drink beer and play in the
old haunted house until they had consumed more that a case of beer.
Romulo went upstairs telling his friends that he is sleepy and needs to
sleep. So he slept upstairs. Suddenly, he was awakened by someone
who was watching him.
When he woke up, he saw a beautiful, tall lady in white stand-
ing in front of him. At first he was amazed because the lady was beau- .
tiful but after a few seconds, he realized that no one is living in that
house and remembered that he was drunk with his friends. He got
scared and realized that he saw a ghost. He quickly run downstairs
looking for his friends but they were all gone.
The next day, he told his experience to his friends and they all
laugh and told him that he was just under the influence of alcohol.
Today, the house was rebuilt and used by the termer tamilv residents
and they never experienced any paranormal event since they moved
there. 0

By Niko Salgado

Ateneo de Manila University

One day, a high school lr;~ ·:::::;-,-;: ~..:, ciass wearing civilian shirt
:::-:::! j:::;:;;-,.;. : :e- wds scolded by the principal for attending classes not
wearing his school uniform. After classes, the principal heard the ;,ews
about an incident that occured in a traffic and to his surprise, he dis-
covered that the high school student that he scolded just a while ago
vvas already dead! The kid, while going to school was _stuck in that
traffic and because of the impatience of another car, this other car
T~lJE PHTLTPPTNE ~HoST STo~TES ~ooK ?

raged his engine furiously and smashed the car of the student and
died. 0

from ghostvillage.com

I'm from the southern Philippine, city of Davao and since last
July strange things have been happening to me in my apartment.
One time, I woke up at about 12:00 midnight to go to the bathroom
and I saw a girl in either gray or white sitting on the chair right next to
my bed. I turned away, but when I looked back she was gone. The
night after, I put some of my stuff on the chair just in case something
might happen, so when I woke up at roughly the same time, I didn't
see anything, but I was shocked when I heard this girl's voice laugh-
ing behind me.
Another time when I was going up the stairs I heard someone
calling me downstairs in a hushed tone - it sounded female - but I
was the only one in the house, I knew that because I was the one that
always came home first to unlock the night-latch and the padlock-
this continued for three days. Another time while I was lying down on
the sofa downstairs I saw this thing on the window being reflected by
the TV (the TV was turned off). It was like a girl's silhouette- it contin-
ues even today and happens only at daytime.
Another time, while I was running to open the gate of the
compound for my father to get in, I saw this naked person by the wall
of the apartment next door. When I looked back, she disappeared.
Also, whenever I took a bath last August, I'd see this female face with
blurry eyes drawn in perfect detail with watery lines from the inside of
the mirror when I wipe off the fog (because I always use warm water).
When I went to the far northern city of Tagaytay to attend a
national youth congress, I was alone sitting at the stairs in front of the
Development Academy of the Philippines (D.A.P.) souvenir shop at
about 1U-11 :UU t-'M. 1 saw this girl behmd the glass wall behind me
wearing a wet white ~hirt with red sleeves and a pair of jeans, so I went
back to taking pictures of the compound, when I took a picture of the
T~vE PHfLfPPfNE ~HoST STo~fES ,_ooK ?

dark flight of stairs next to the D.A.P. shop, I saw this girl's silhouette
on the stairs exactly when the camera flashed. I ran to the hallway of
the sleeping quarters near where I previously was but when I sat down
leaning on the wall of my schoolmate's room, I saw the same girl! saw
in the other part of the building standing in front of the glass door at
the end of the hallway that leads to the outside, except this time she
covered herself with either a towel or a blanket. I took a picture of the
door from where I was and afterwards dashed into my schoolmate's
room. I told them about it but they didn't believe me. Of the 36 shots
I took on the trip only 28 were developed, all except the picture that
I took of the girl. - Regz Regalado 0

aaa
I was five to six years old when I first encountered a wandering
soul. It was afternoon, around five o'clock. I was tired and sweaty from
playing, so when I got home I quickly lay in a long wooden chair near
the door. My head was in the direction of the door so I couldn't see
who would come in (I only see the inside of the house).
I was staring at our ceiling while resting when I heard some-
one breathing so fast and coming nearer and nearer to the door. I
didn't bother to have a look to know who he was because I was really
tired. I presumed it was my sister or brother, who got home and, like
me they were also tired from playing.
Whoever it was, stopped right at the door, then it move for-
ward to my left side. His breathing became harder and louder (like he
was desperate to grasp for a air). Then, to my surprised, he blows his
breath straight to my ear. It was a tingling sensation, I felt the moist
and warmth of his breath on my ear so I quickly sat up. I was angry
and going to yell - then I realized there was no one at my side - I
was alone in the house and I saw that there was no one outside. I was
nonplussed.
I mentioned my experienced to my mother and she said that
maybe it was a soul who was tired from his long journey to find the
light. She said that I should have thrown some water outside the door
Tk.vE PHTLfPPTNE ~HoST STok.TES ~ooK ?

so the soul can drink. I felt sorry for the soul.

After a few years it came back, and my opinion about this soul
change. My mother and I were watching TV when suddenly my older
sister came rushing from upstairs. She was scared and could hardly
speak when she told us what had happened.
She said she was standing beside the bed when she heard
someone breathing so fast- but she knew she was alone. She jumped
up on the bed and when it came nearer and nearer to her she be-
came terrified and thought to jump down the stairs (the bed was
beside the stairs).
She could have died if she jumped because we have steep
stairs. We conclude that it was an evil soul and was trying to harm my
sister. I was not scared, but rather I was furious with the soul.
The third time it came back, many years had passed again,
and I was in college then. My father bought a CD disk from abroad. It
was a cool disk because it contains a variety of sounds and voices of
people and animals. One night, my older sister and I decided to be a
prank caller so we can use the CD to trick people. We were using a
speaker phone and we were both laughing so hard when we heard
the reaction on the other line. (Don't get me wrong, we're not bad
girls - we were just entertaining people!) We didn't use bad words
or make up a story that will annoy them; we just let them hear funny
voices/sounds.
On one particular line, they were angry at us and just hang
the phone, then we suddenly heard the fast breathing again. It lasted
for few minutes, then it stopped- we felt all of our hair stand on end.
My sister and I both looked at each other and asked, "Who is that?"
We just both said maybe it was from the other line, but I'm sure it was
not coming from the other line because we clearly heard it near to our
side, and I can tell the difference between the sound coming from a
phone and the sound you can hear just an inch away from you.
This soul removed the smile from me and my sister's face that
night and put the joke on us. And now I think he was a clever soul. -
Laarni Ouiliza 0
T~vE PHfLTPPfNE 14HoST STo~fES ,_ooK ?

The Phanbom of bhe Nighb

My name is Sheryl, I'm from the Philippines and I want to share to you
one of the most horrifying experience I've ever had. An actual close encounter with
a lone soul of the 3rd floor.
It happened two years ago when my mom was admitted in the hospital
due to her ever increasing high-blood pressure. So, my sisters and I aqreed to
take turns spending the night in the hospital to take care of my mom. I am the
eldest of four siblings, and so it happens that I was the last one to take good care
of her on her last stay in the hospital.
It was like any other night in the hospital, like around 12:30 midnight. We t
were watching HBO when my mom asked me to get her an apple beside the
counter. The lights were all off except for the television's reflection that was against
my mom's bed. As I got up from the sofa beside her bed to get to the counter
which was located between the big mahogany closet and bathroom, I begun to
notice a faint smoke-like image at the corner of my eye.
But, thinking that it was just lights from the television playing tricks on
me, I continued walking towards it. Then the smoke seemed to get thicker and
thicker, until it formed into something. I was thinking that probably now it was the
cold ... so !looked back, gazing at something, when I felt the urge to look in front of
me.
To my disbelief, I saw what seemed like a man standing inches away
from my face! He was tall, seemed to be clad with white smoke , and when I
gathered courage to look up to his face, I saw that he had no eyes at all! Just a f)air
of two holes that seemed to be eye sockets .. I couldn't exactly remember how his
face looked like for I was so horrified beyond anything! Like I was trapped in a
nightmare! I just stood there aghast! My tracks frozen! And felt my heart skip its
beat....Felt my hair raise and my head in a whirl. I hadn't even thought of screaming ... !
couldn't believe what was happening. He just stood there for a few seconds, but
it felt as though he stood there longer than that....eventually he just faded into thin
air, and right then, I scrambled towards my mom's side ... scared and dizzy at the
same time. I was frantically making the sign of the cross when what my mom said
stopped me .. she looked at me and asked me " Did you see it too?"
Shaken and surprised, I nodded ... and then, that night I remained buried
deep into my sheets, scared that the night visitor would come back for me. That
experience made me feel excited and scared at the same time. And I'd say that
night made me say that this tale should be told. The next day I told my tale to the
nurses. They just nodded as if it was normal. They said that they're used to the
occurring phenomenon in the hospital, especially , in the third floor. .. D
T~uE PHfLTWfNE ~HoST STo~fES ~ooK ?

Tagagliag ohosli sliorg

This story happened a few months ago along the Tagaytay
Road. There was a guy who got left behind by a pack of mountain
bikers. The group was large and he didn't bring a cellphone. He
crashed his bike somewhere between Picnic Grove and DBP. To make
things worse, a storm came in. So he walked.
This guy was on the side of the road hitch hiking on a very
dark night in the middle of a storm. The night passed slowly and no
cars went by. The storm was so strong he could hardly see a few
meters ahead of him.
Suddenly, just before the junction going to Manila, he saw a
car slowly looming, ghostlike, out of the gloom. It slowly crept toward
him and stopped. It was raining hard, wind blowing all around you,
what would you do? Like you would, he got into the car and closed
the door, then realized that there was nobody behind the wheel.
The car slowly started moving again. The guy was terrified,
too scared to think of jumping out and running. The guy saw that the
car was slowly approaching a sharp curve. The guy started to pray,
begging for his life; he was sure the ghost car would go off the road
and he would plunge to his death, when just before the curve, a hand
appeared through the window and turned the steering wheel, guid-
ing the car safely around the bend.
Terrified, the guy watched the hand reappear every time they
reached a curve. Finally, the guy gathered his wits and leaped from
the car and ran to the nearest place where there were houses. Wet
and in shock, he went into a store and voice quavering, ordered 2
bottles of Red Horse Beer, and told the people about his horrible,
supernatural experience.
A silence enveloped everybody when they realized the guy
was apparently sane and not drunk. About half an hour later two guys
walked into the same store.
One says to the other, "Yan ... siya nga yung sumakay habanQ
nagtutulak tayo ... " see goo DO BOOk 4!