“We’ll do everything in our power to ensure this won’t happen again,” Elias said to the couple.
“Thank you, my lord,” the man said, and then to me, “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
I almost burst into tears. I just looked at them, speechless, and wanted to say something, but words failed me.
Elias stepped toward the couple, gesturing to the door. “Please, see our healers and tend to your injuries. You have the throne’s full attention.”
The couple left, holding each other.
When the door closed, it felt like all the air in the room had left with them.
I covered my face and shut my eyes tight, hoping I would wake up from this nightmare.
Elias let out a long sigh and said, “Do not be afraid, MJ. A wildmanananggal is nothing to be alarmed about. We’re lucky no one else was hurt.”
“I’ve seen manananggals here, in Biringan, but…I don’t know much about them. What are they exactly?” I had to know, even if it terrified me.
“There are some that live here, yes, but there are wild ones that plague remote areas. Those are terrible creatures that prowl the night, attacking couples and drinking their blood. You might be more familiar with its cousin, the vampire. But wild manananggals are far more rare, and we don’t know how they come to be. Like I said to the couple earlier, we haven’t had an attack in this region for thousands of years. Manananggals sever their lower halves, leaving them behind when they transform to hunt. They feed on flesh and blood, often leaving a bloody trail in their wake. They reattach themselves to their legs before sunrise, and turn human once more.” Elias softened when he saw the terror on my face. “Please, MJ, don’t worry. We’ll get it sorted soon enough.”
Growing up in the human world, of course I knew vampires, but vampires in human folklore didn’t detach their lower halves and fly. A manananggal sounded way worse. Of course I was afraid. Last night hadn’t been a nightmare. What if I was turning into this thing? What if it happened again? What if I killed a person instead of a goat next time?
What if I told Elias? I knew he loved me like a father, but would he still love me after this? I wanted to believe he would, but doubt kept my mouth shut. I just looked at him and tried not to cry. He patted me softly on the shoulder. He thought I was afraid.
I was, but not for the reasons he assumed.
It all seemed so impossible, but I knew it was true.
It was real.
I was a monster.
The moment Ileft the throne room, I went to my bedroom, closed the door behind me, crouched to the floor, and silently sobbed into my knees. I wasn’t sure how long I stayed that way, but by the time I was done, some of the flowers had fallen out of my hair, my eyes felt puffy, and the skin on my cheeks was tight with dried tears.
I stood up and went to my vanity to check if I could see anything different, but my own face peered back in the mirror.
I stared at myself and tried to imagine a manananggal. That couple called her—me—hideous, with a mouth full of fangs and bloodshot eyes. I ran my tongue over my teeth and found none of them feeling particularly sharp, simply normal. My eyes, blue as a cornflower field, were only red from crying. This morning Jinky had twisted my hair up into a diadem of small flowers, turning me into the picture-perfect image of a queen, but on the inside, I knew what I really was: a monster.
I didn’t know how long I could keep this secret. I felt fine now, but I knew there was something dark and horrible lurking inside me, waiting to come out.
I gripped the vanity table as I lowered my head and closed my eyes, trying to think.
Elias didn’t know where a manananggal came from, how it was created, but how was I turning into one? What if it was acurse? What if a mambabarang had put a spell on me? I could only guess. It was hard to wrap my head around any of it—the waking nightmare, the transformation, the bloodlust. How did I sever my lower half at night? I didn’t remember doing anything like that, so perhaps it was like sleepwalking. I wouldn’t even know it was happening until it was too late.
Maybe I could chain myself to my bed at night so I couldn’t escape. I would absolutely have to lock and bar the windows and, especially, the door. Except I could fly. Would that be enough to stop me?
I looked at my hands, inspecting them in the light. In my cuticles were trace amounts of something dark brown. I scraped it away with my nail and knew, with a sinking feeling, what it was: dried blood. And then I remembered the way my claws tore into the goat’s rib cage and scooped out its heart. The human side of my mind had stopped the manananggal from hurting those people somehow, but how long would that last?
The most horrifying part was that the blood had tasted sogood. It had satisfied some animalistic need in me to consume. I knew I’d want more and soon.
I didn’t know how to stop it or whom to turn to for answers.
I had already invited Qian to Mount Makiling; I couldn’t back out of that now. But if I transformed while I was there, I could be seen, or I could hurt someone. He was a famed monster hunter; of course what was happening to me would only complicate things. Would he understand, or would he try to kill me? Then again, maybe he’d encountered something like this before. Maybe he would know what to do. But could I risk it?
The last thing I wanted to do was tell anyone what was happening to me. Not even Nix. I didn’t know how anyone, even my best friend, would react to me turning into a monster.
One thing was for certain: I had to find a way to stop this from happening again. Now. Before it got worse.
I lifted my head to face the mirror again. There I saw what the couple had seen. Bulging red eyes; a wide, lipless mouth; gums receding from rows of fangs; gnarled hair plastered against my skeletal face. But I blinked, and the visage was gone. It was just me.
