![hunted supernatural hunted supernatural](https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3ngTuuygGL8/TpbIux8LcpI/AAAAAAAADTQ/JEe_wEOas68/s1600/vlcsnap-201589.png)
“Always an acacia”, he thought, recalling stories from his father. Observing the tikbalang as he ran when the spirits are making noise, he determined its hiding place. It was the adrenaline of the hunt that kept him awake. The boy stayed, and kept vigil for nights on end. He also knew that every creature had a special place of sanctuary, whether it be a river, a mound of earth, or a tree. Make him believe he is hunted.Īs the boy well knew, the creatures he face are just as afraid as most people are. He called the attention of the engkantos and diwatas who protected the forest. Luckily, the boy didn’t need that speed, after all, it was his ingenuity that allowed him to advance after all these years. Get over him, and he will kill you in retaliation for his wounded pride.
![hunted supernatural hunted supernatural](http://www.ropermike.com/trouble/images/Supernatural-Hunted/Supernatural-Hunted-2979.jpg)
Let him go ahead, and you will be eaten for your showing of weakness. Racing against a tikbalang was a lose-lose situation. It was almost a pointless advice since no man has ever outran a tikbalang and lived to tell the tale. “To catch a beast of that speed, you need to be faster than the beast”, the boy recalled the words of his father. These cousins of centaurs were a lot more hideous than their western counterparts, having the upper body of a horse but are human in stature.
![hunted supernatural hunted supernatural](https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bPKS_XM2pAY/TpbLIDw7UnI/AAAAAAAADW4/mLDOMsWWmEM/s1600/vlcsnap-206168.png)
Mysticism was part of his training, and with a few incantations on branches and leaves, the trees told him of his enemy. It was just him, and his courage.īeing trained in survival and martial arts against the otherworldly, he first snapped branches from trees to find out what he was really hunting, and the forest was eager to help him cast aside this plague. He was brought by his father to the realm of Bernardo Carpio, in the mountains of Montalban, with nothing. He was but ten years old when he took the test of manhood. Since he was a child growing up in Bulacan, the boy was trained by his father to fight creatures he always dismissed as just stories. He had faced rogue shamans from Baguio, saved countless barrios and pregnant women from the hunger of manananggals, and helped environmentalists convince kapres to quit smoking. He was restless, the way he had always felt before charging onto a battle he had little chance of winning.Īs the jeepney trudged long Manila’s little streets, the boy couldn’t help but wonder who or what was coming for him this time. The boy had an uncanny ability to sniff out danger, as if something was telling him, something ethereal.