Chapter 7
Nille and Granny Amparo were admitted to the hospital and required to spend a few days under observation, their stay fully covered. All the legal documents and necessary paperwork were carefully handled by Doctor Jasmin Dizon and filed under the Japanese medical mission, ensuring that the hospital could provide care without any financial burden on the family.
Meanwhile, Miyako quietly made a few personal calls, requesting additional support from friends and contacts she trusted. She was deeply impressed by Nille, the young boy who never once missed the opportunity to bring his grandmother to the weekly medical missions at the small rural clinic.
Though this was technically their third encounter, Miyako realized that this was the first time she had been able to truly get to know him. She had watched him closely during the ride, his intense curiosity, sharp memory, and gentle care for Granny Amparo leaving a lasting impression.
"Such a remarkable child," she thought to herself. "Even at his age, he understands responsibility and care better than most adults I know."
For Miyako, this unexpected insight into Nille's character was both surprising and heartwarming. The quiet dedication he showed, combined with his natural intelligence, had made this ordinary hospital visit feel like something extraordinary, a rare glimpse of kindness, talent, and devotion all in one small boy.
Nille's first night in the hospital was far from easy. The room they were in, though newly renovated, felt cold and impersonal. It could accommodate six patients, but for now, they were the only ones inside, and the centralized air conditioning made the sterile space even chillier. The blankets provided were thin, and Nille hadn't been able to bring extra items for himself, only a small bag of essentials for Granny Amparo.
He was used to having almost nothing. The cold bamboo bed of their old home had often been his only bed, and in comparison, even the hospital's furnishings felt strange and unwelcoming. Yet seeing Granny Amparo still asleep, pale but resting peacefully, gave him a small measure of comfort.
Quietly, Nille lowered himself to the floor at the corner near her bed, crossing his legs in the familiar position he had practiced countless times. The world outside the small hospital room, the whirring of machines, the hum of the air-conditioning, faded as he entered his meditative state, slipping into the realm he had long learned to navigate: his dream realm, where time bent differently and the subconscious currents of the world became tangible.
It had been nearly a week since his last supernatural encounter with the stray cat he called Luna. She had appeared in his dream again, guiding him through the mysteries of the dream realm. These journeys had become a true eye-opener for Nille, teaching him to focus, observe, and train his mind in ways that affected his body, improvements no waking hours could achieve.
As Nille settled into the quiet rhythm of meditation, the sterile chill of the hospital faded. In the dream realm, he could move, think, and act freely, sharpening his senses and practicing control over currents that few could perceive. Even in this cold, unfamiliar hospital room, he had his small sanctuary, a place of focus and growth that was entirely his own.
This night, something new caught his attention. He felt a warm energy flowing into his body, pooling at the center of his awareness. Slowly, it began to coalesce into a small orb, floating in the dark expanse of his dream. At first, it was tiny, like a faint marble, its glow barely illuminating the void. But as he concentrated, the orb grew larger, casting a soft, steady light across the otherwise colorless space. Nille realized this orb was a representation of his progress, a physical manifestation of the mental and spiritual control he had been cultivating over the past few days.
The dream space itself was blank, a pure reflection of his subconscious. With practice, Nille had learned that he could shape this realm, giving form to his imagination. This night, he decided to create a sturdy structure, using concrete-like columns and support beams, forming a sort of training arena. He tested its solidity by punching the beams, each strike echoing faintly in the dream world, feeling both the physicality of the structure and the strengthening of his own focus.
For Nille, this was more than play. Each movement, each adjustment of the orb's energy, each strike against the columns, refined his control, sharpening both body and mind. The dream realm was no longer just a place of observation, it had become a training ground, a bridge between his waking discipline and the extraordinary potentials of his subconscious.
This was the only day he hadn't been pulled out of focus by concern for Granny Amparo. The soft beeping of her heart monitor was a reassuring presence, a steady rhythm that reminded him she was safe. Nille hadn't forgotten his promise to train harder, to push himself further.
At eleven years old, his body was still young and malleable. His muscle mass and stamina were limited, but his mind and focus compensated, allowing him to maximize every movement and strike. Each motion in the dream realm strengthened not just his imagination but subtly conditioned his body, preparing him for challenges he could not yet fully understand.
Suddenly, a vile, unsettling feeling crept into Nille's awareness. His training and meditation came to an abrupt halt. The orb dimmed, and the dream realm faded, leaving him fully conscious in the hospital room.
What he saw made him freeze. Crawling along the floor was a peculiar creature, vaguely humanoid but utterly alien. Its skin seemed to fade in and out, almost like a mirage, and its movements were unnervingly fluid. Nille's mind immediately connected it to the Sarangay that had attacked Luna—this was no dream.
He no longer questioned what he saw. The strange things that whispered and lurked in the shadows of the night were real, roaming the area freely. And for the first time, Nille understood: he could see them, sense them, even anticipate their movements, while others remained oblivious.
It was around eleven o'clock, and the hospital halls were quiet. A lone nurse walked past, her steps echoing softly against the linoleum floor, unaware of the creature weaving swiftly between the shadows. The thing moved on its hands and feet with unnerving speed, slipping past the nurse without leaving a trace. Its motions were deliberate, cautious, yet fluid enough to elude detection.
Nille's pulse quickened, but he stayed still, his eyes fixed on the crawling figure. He realized the creature avoided touching anyone awake, almost as if it knew the consequences of being seen. Its purpose was unclear, but Nille's instincts screamed that it was dangerous, intelligent, and entirely predatory.
For the first time since he had begun training in the dream realm, Nille understood that his abilities weren't just exercises, they were preparation. The world was far stranger and more dangerous than anyone else could perceive, and he now had a front-row seat to its hidden currents.
Nille's first instinct was to stay close to Granny Amparo.
The creature's presence alone was enough to confirm his suspicion, these things were not harmless. And when he saw it pause and lift its head, sniffing the air as it turned slightly toward his grandmother's bed, a cold weight settled in his chest.
It noticed her.
Nille tensed, ready to react, his body low and still, eyes locked on the creature. For a brief moment, he thought it would enter the room. But it didn't.
Instead, the thing lingered at the doorway, its distorted form flickering faintly, as if uncertain. Then, slowly, it turned away. It crawled past the room, continuing down the dim corridor, its head twitching as it sniffed the air repeatedly, searching… tracking something.
Nille didn't relax.
That movement, it wasn't random. The creature was looking for something specific.
Or someone.
He glanced back at Granny Amparo. She was still asleep, her breathing steady, untouched, for now.
Nille exhaled quietly.
I need to understand what these things are.
And there was only one person he trusted who might have answers.
Granny Amparo.
She had told stories, old ones. Stories he once thought were just fragments of the past, things meant to teach or warn. But now… they felt different. Real.
If anyone could explain these creatures, it would be her.
Nille slowly stood up, careful not to make noise. His decision was clear: he would follow the creature , but only far enough to learn, not to fight.
Step by step, he moved toward the door.
But just as he reached it,
His foot caught on something.
A soft rustling sound broke the silence.
The slightly open knapsack he had brought with Granny Amparo shifted, tipping over onto the floor. A few items spilled out, breaking the stillness of the room.
Nille froze.
His eyes dropped to the ground.
Among the scattered belongings, something familiar slipped free,
The scarf.
The one Granny Amparo had given him just a few days ago. she might taken it and placed it inside the bag, thinking it could be useful as a towel if it rained unexpectedly. They didn't even own an umbrella, so he had learned to prepare in small, practical ways., but forgot to mention the weapons she also gave him were supernaturally
But now, seeing it again… something felt different.
The fabric lay still on the cold hospital floor, yet for a brief moment, Nille felt a faint, almost subtle warmth coming from it, like a memory, or something waiting to be understood.
Behind him, the hallway remained quiet.
The creature was getting farther away.
Nille hesitated.
Follow it… or stay?
But before Nille could decide,
The silence in the hallway broke.
The soft squeak of wheels echoed past the room as hospital staff pushed a gurney, moving at a steady, respectful pace. A body lay upon it, covered completely by a white sheet. The atmosphere shifted instantly, heavy, quiet, almost sacred.
Nille's attention snapped toward the doorway.
And then
He saw it.
The creature.
It was no longer crawling along the floor.
It had climbed onto the gurney, its distorted limbs gripping the sides as it crouched over the covered body. Its flickering form bent low, pressing close as it began to sniff the cadaver beneath the sheet, its movements slow, deliberate… almost curious.
Nille's breath caught.
The hospital staff continued walking, unaware, their faces calm but tired. To them, nothing was out of the ordinary. They couldn't see it. They couldn't feel it.
But Nille could.
The creature's head twitched, as if reacting to something deeper than scent, something unseen, something beyond the physical. Its body flickered more intensely, phasing in and out as it hovered over the dead.
Then it paused.
Completely still.
For a brief, terrifying moment, Nille thought it might turn its head toward him.
His body tensed, every instinct telling him not to move.
The gurney rolled forward.
The creature remained perched on top, riding with the dead, continuing its strange inspection as it disappeared further down the hallway.
Only then did Nille exhale.
Slowly.
Carefully.
His mind raced.
So… they're drawn to the dead.
Or maybe,
They're searching for something inside them.
Nille's eyes darkened with focus. This wasn't random. This wasn't meaningless wandering. These creatures had purpose, and whatever they were doing… it was connected to something far beyond what normal people could see.
Behind him, Granny Amparo still slept peacefully.
In front of him, the unknown deepened.
And for the first time that night, Nille realized,
He wasn't just witnessing something strange.
He was standing at the edge of something dangerous.
But before Nille could decide...
The silence in the hallway broke.
The soft squeak of wheels echoed past the room as hospital staff pushed a gurney, moving at a steady, respectful pace. A body lay upon it, covered completely by a white sheet. The atmosphere shifted instantly, heavy, quiet, almost sacred.
Nille's attention snapped toward the doorway.
And then—
He saw it.
The creature.
It was no longer crawling along the floor.
It had climbed onto the gurney, its distorted limbs gripping the sides as it crouched over the covered body. Its flickering form bent low, pressing close as it began to sniff the cadaver beneath the sheet, its movements slow, deliberate… almost curious.
Nille's breath caught.
The hospital staff continued walking, unaware, their faces calm but tired. To them, nothing was out of the ordinary. They couldn't see it. They couldn't feel it.
But Nille could.
The creature's head twitched, as if reacting to something deeper than scent—something unseen, something beyond the physical. Its body flickered more intensely, phasing in and out as it hovered over the dead.
Then it paused.
Completely still.
For a brief, terrifying moment, Nille thought it might turn its head toward him.
His body tensed, every instinct telling him not to move.
The gurney rolled forward.
The creature remained perched on top, riding with the dead, continuing its strange inspection as it disappeared further down the hallway.
Only then did Nille exhale.
Slowly.
Carefully.
His mind raced.
So… they're drawn to the dead.
Or maybe,
They're searching for something inside them.
Nille's eyes darkened with focus. This wasn't random. This wasn't meaningless wandering. These creatures had purpose, and whatever they were doing… it was connected to something far beyond what normal people could see.
Behind him, Granny Amparo still slept peacefully.
In front of him, the unknown deepened.
And for the first time that night, Nille realized,
He wasn't just witnessing something strange.
He was standing at the edge of something dangerous.
Suddenly, the scarf shivered in the air, as if alive. It vanished for a heartbeat, then reappeared, coiling itself swiftly around Nille's neck like a protective tether. A warmth surged through him, calming the spike of fear rising in his chest.
At that exact moment, the hospital gurney passed the slightly open room where he was standing, just a few feet away. The creature, still crouched over the cadaver, suddenly froze. Its flickering form locked onto Nille, eyes, if they could be called that, glowing faintly. In an instant, it lunged forward, phasing through the air with unnatural speed.
The sliding hospital door began to close behind it. Nille jumped back instinctively, his heart pounding. Time seemed to slow as the creature entered the room, its distorted limbs stretching toward him.
And then something extraordinary happened. Nille instinctively clenched his fists, recalling the brass knuckles he had kept as a small token for training, an object he had only imagined using. The scarf, responding to his instinct and intent, shifted and wrapped itself around his hands, manifesting the brass knuckles fully, perfectly aligned with his grip.
His fists were ready, the metal cold and solid, as if the scarf had known exactly what he needed before he did. The creature's lunge met his gaze, and for the first time, Nille felt prepared to confront the impossible.
Nille's eyes widened.
He hadn't touched it.
There was no wind.
Yet the scarf settled against his skin, warm, unnaturally warm, like it was reacting… protecting.
In that exact moment, the gurney passed directly in front of the open doorway.
And the creature
Stopped.
Its head snapped toward Nille.
It saw him.
For the first time, there was no doubt.
The flickering figure twisted violently, its form distorting as it let out a silent, unnatural motion—and then it lunged.
Fast.
Too fast.
It leapt off the gurney and rushed toward the room, its limbs scraping against the floor in a blur of motion. The air itself seemed to distort as it crossed the doorway,
and just as it entered
The sliding hospital door shut abruptly.
The sudden motion startled Nille, forcing him to jump backward instinctively, his body reacting before his mind could catch up.
His heart pounded.
His breath hitched.
But his training held.
Without hesitation, Nille's fist clenched, and in that instant, he recalled the brass knuckles into his hand, gripping them tightly as if they had always been there.
The cold metal pressed against his fingers.
Solid.
Real.
The creature slammed against the closed door, its form flickering violently, as if the barrier itself resisted its presence. Its shape distorted, pressing against the surface, searching for a way through.
Nille steadied his stance.
Fear was there, but controlled.
His eyes locked onto the thing beyond the door.
For the first time, he wasn't just observing.
He was ready.
its limbs scraping the metal frame, phasing in and out like smoke in a storm. Nille's grip on the brass knuckles tightened. The scarf around his neck thrummed, reacting to his pulse, as if urging him to act decisively.
He didn't hesitate.
The sliding door shuddered, and with a quick, fluid motion, Nille sidestepped to the side, swinging his right fist. The brass knuckles connected with a precise, bone-crushing strike to the creature's shoulder as it tried to phase through him. A sickening crack echoed, and the creature shuddered violently, its form destabilizing further.
It recoiled, phasing erratically, but Nille didn't let it recover. He advanced with quick, controlled movements, striking again, this time targeting its midsection. The metal pressed through the ethereal layers of its body, and the creature let out a distorted, silent scream, thrashing wildly.
The scarf seemed to respond, tightening slightly around him, as if anchoring his blows, guiding him to hit the creature's vital points, areas that were almost invisible, sensed only by his intuition.
Nille's next strike was precise, a rapid punches to the creature's head. The brass knuckles connected, sending a ripple through its flickering form. It staggered backward, smoke-like limbs collapsing as the light around it dimmed.
One final blow. Nille leapt forward, using the wall frame as leverage, and drove his fists downward in a crushing strike, feeling the cold resistance of its body give way. The creature's form exploded into a cloud of flickering shadows, twisting violently before collapsing in on itself.
Silence fell.
The sliding door had locked it out. The gurney continued down the hall, the staff oblivious to the battle that had just occurred.as nothing happened inside the room
Nille's heart raced, adrenaline coursing through his veins. His knuckles ached, but the scarf lay calm and still around his neck, warm and steady. He exhaled slowly, surveying the empty space where the creature had vanished.
It was over. The creature was dead.
For a heartbeat, everything was still, silent except for the soft hum of the hospital machines and the distant echoes of footsteps in the corridor.
Then… something unexpected happened.
The flickering manifestation of the creature's form, the shadowy shape that had so violently attacked him, began to crack and crumble, like fragile glass shattering in slow motion. Pieces of it disintegrated into a fine, gray dust, drifting lightly in the air, almost weightless.
And as it fell, there was a sound, faint, almost mournful, like a sad sigh carried on the wind. It was not a scream, not anger, not rage… but sorrow.
Nille froze, his knuckles still clenched. His chest tightened as he watched the dust scatter across the floor, disappearing into the corners of the room. The creature had been dangerous, predatory, and terrifying, but in its final moments, he sensed something human-like in its sadness, something lost.
The scarf around his neck vibrated lightly, warm against his skin, as if acknowledging the end of the threat. It was protective, yes, but it also seemed aware of the weight of what had happened, as though even the scarf recognized that victory sometimes came with echoes of sorrow.
Nille's hands loosened from the brass knuckles. He knelt quietly by Granny Amparo's bed, watching her rise and fall in peaceful sleep. The night was over. The creature was gone.
But in the quiet aftermath, Nille knew one thing clearly: the world he had glimpsed, and the beings that inhabited it, were far more complex than he had imagined.
And he would need all his training, and all the mysteries the world he was now part of could reveal, to face what came next.
as Granny Amparo stirred slightly in her bed, murmuring in her sleep, and Nille knelt beside her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. He didn't speak, he didn't need to. She was safe.
And for the first time that night, Nille allowed himself a small, quiet smile.
He had faced the impossible, unbelievable , unseen, and he had won.