Then, if she needed more information, she could check the journal sheets she'd been writing. She still had a long way to go to get to where any of her information was actually useful though as she hadn't filled in a lot of information yet. Truthfully, she just wasn't sure of what all was even out there. With her luck though, she'd end up having a hell of a resource when needed for the show.
Plugging in what they knew about this case, leaving the creature designation field empty, she instead turned to good ol' Google yet again. When in doubt, searching random words related to the attacks usually led to some obscure mythological page where she could learn more about whatever it was she wanted to report on. You just had to figure out the right search terms. After hours of trying different combinations of words, she was ready to admit defeat.
It was late, she was tired, and Andy had already passed out. He'd been snoring away for a good hour while she sat up, determined to find something they could use to possibly send them in the right direction for identifying the murderer. Absentmindedly, she typed in "Valerian death pregnant women", and started scrolling, looking for anything that might pop out at her.
The first few pages were just drug interactions and homicides that were the result of domestic disputes, which she'd expected. Even though it was an herb, it technically was considered a drug and had the same issues as any other herbal pill. Then, after she got through about a dozen pages, the results started getting weirder.
Weird was her game. Clicking to open a few of the pages in new tabs, she began reading them through. On a hunch after the first two results, she opened another tab, searching for whether LA had a large Filipino population. Bingo. It was the only thing that actually made sense, all the pieces that didn't seem to go together well now fit in a perfect puzzle. "Yo, Andy. Get up." Tossing a book at his feet when he didn't respond, he jerked up, eyes wild. She hid her laughter before motioning to the screen.
"I think I have something."
Reading out loud from the page, she made notes into her document as she spoke. "The Aswang, also known as a Tik Tik, is a ghoul-like being in Filipino folklore. The original definition of Aswang is Eater of Dead, and the name is applied also to witches, vampires, manananggals and shapeshifters."
"They are usually portrayed as an ugly monster with wings which they flap loudly when far away and quietly as they come closer. It can take the form of many different animals depending on its need or preference. The Aswang generally takes the form of a human during the day. At night, it shifts into either an animal or its Aswang form, which appears leathered and bat-like with a grayish toned skin. The Aswang has a long tongue similar to a hummingbird. It uses this proboscis to incapacitate its victims with a secretion made from chewing Valerian root."
"Aswang prefer the blood of female victims, and the unborn fetus is a particular prize. Most will also indulge in the hearts and livers of their chosen victim. If there are no easy victims nearby, Aswang have been known to break into morgues or funeral homes to steal corpses for temporary nourishment. Murders occur in threes during the full moon each month and then go silent until the next lunar cycle."
"Aswang in human form are quiet and reserved, usually preferring to work near a quick food source, such as a butcher shop or funeral home. Their eyes are usually bloodshot, and flash silver when light hits them. For this reason, always carry a flashlight when suspecting an Aswang attack."
"The Aswang can be killed by destroying their hearts. They avoid salt and garlic, much like the myths of vampires. To find an Aswang, carry a bottle of oil with you. If the oil boils, it's a sure sign an Aswang is nearby." Blinking, she saved the page, before turning to Andy. "Someone else is going to die. There's only been two so far this month, and the full moon isn't totally over yet, we still have two days."
Andy paled, rubbing at his temples, likely in a bid to swear off a headache. Going silent as he appeared to be thinking through everything she'd said, he shook his head. "The police won't believe us. You know that, Kira. They'd kick us out of the station or worse, lock us up as deranged or drugged. We can't even go to the press out here, we're just a campus station, we'll be laughed out of the lobby."
"I know. I just... I wish there was something we could do. Some way to help. People shouldn't be left unaware and in the dark of the monsters that are hunting them." Her voice was quieter, more introspective.
"We could go into the pockets of Filipino residents. Investigate ourselves. Maybe spread the word that it's out there. Get them to protect any family members that are pregnant. Surely there are still people that have heard the old folklore, some that still believe in it and would help with getting our voices heard. Maybe that'll slow it down, if it can't find its last meal. So far, it's only attacking those of Filipino descent in LA, and only pregnant women. That narrows the possible victim pool enough that we might be able to actually make a difference. Hang on."
Flipping to the next tab, she nodded. "That's why. It says that the victim must be a descendant of the Aswang for the sacrifice to have the power to extend its life. So since it so far has hit people that aren't related in any way, maybe it means anyone of Filipino descent. If we can get them on edge to protect themselves, maybe it'll starve or something. None of the pages actually have any information on what happens when an Aswang can't feed properly."
Andy looked concerned with where her thoughts were, and rightly so, but she ignored his expression. She lived by the motto that when you could help someone, you should. If people had forgotten their roots and didn't realize what was stalking them, they couldn't prepare for it and ward against it. They could at least spread the word and hope it helped.
"We can stop a death, Andy."
Chapter Five
Then again, maybe they couldn't. They'd left the motel early, heading towards the neighborhoods on the outskirts of the city where the last census had put most of the Filipino communities. Few would talk to them. Even with the printed out pages in hand, most laughed at them before turning away or slamming a door in their faces.
"They won't listen, binibini." Hearing a raspy voice, Kira turned, spotting the stooped, white haired woman smoking a pipe while sitting on a small porch. She'd noticed the elderly woman watching them from the stoop the entire time they canvassed the neighborhood, but as she was the last house on the block, they hadn't approached her until now.
"Excuse me?"
She stepped closer to the woman, clutching her papers to her chest. "They won't listen, no matter how urgently you phrase it. We are so far from our own ancestral stories, few believe any more. Those that do, don't pass their folklore on. We've forgotten our history and have changed with the times. They blame criminals and thieves, God himself and bad luck on things that we used to have a name for."
"It's admirable what you're doing, young lady, but you'll find few here that will want to be reminded of where we came from." The woman took a large inhalation of the fragrant smoke, before exhaling, letting the slight breeze take it away. "You want to stop him, I can possibly help. If you just want to spread awareness, you're fighting a lost cause. They already know, they just don't care or have forgotten because they think it doesn't affect them personally."
Against her own better judgment, Kira stepped closer. "What do you mean, stop him? You mean go after him? How in the world can you help me do that?" The woman stood, barely reaching Kira's shoulder. Holding her hand out in a motion that clearly meant to stay put, Kira waited for long minutes until the woman returned, gnarled hands clutching an ornately carved box. It was beautiful in its simplicity. Sitting back down in the rocking chair, she motioned Kira closer.
"This belonged to my sister. She had it made when her youngest was killed by one of these foul creatures. She lost a daughter and a granddaughter in one single night. She never got to use it herself before she passed, so it came to me. I'm in no condition to even try, but no one here is willing to step up and erase the menace from our city. You tell me you will put this thing back into the hell it spa
wned from, and it's yours."
Uncovering the box with a slow flourish, she revealed a burgundy colored velvet pillow. Laying on top was a knife, the blade etched with symbols Kira didn't recognize. The handle looked like it was made of thin twisting branches, all bound together with matching vines. "What is it?"
"This, child, is the Katmon Tarim. Made from the spring branches of the Katmon tree, it is a tree only found in the Philippines. We long believed items from our homeland are the best defense against creatures and maladies that follow us to other lands. Home is a powerful antidote to what ails us, even when those things take a tangible, corporeal form. The symbols are old magic, said to bind the Aswang. Once bound, its death sends it back to where it has come from, to Satanas himself. You put this blade into what remains of its shriveled heart, and the Katmon Tarim will make sure it won't be getting back up."
Those words chased each other around in Kira's head as she sat cross-legged on the bed later that night, box opened in front of her. Drifting her fingers over the carvings, she tried to tell herself this wasn't her fight. She'd escaped with her life once and didn't owe anyone anything, especially not putting herself in harm's way again. A deep, dark part of her tried to convince the rest of her if the people being hunted didn't care, then why should she risk being hurt for them?
And yet, her insidious brain kept journeying back to the wendigo's victims. To the sheer terror she felt as she looked into his eyes and saw nothing but darkness and hatred. How the other women had fought death himself to try to save her so that she could at least bring them peace.
Now, two women had already lost their lives. Two little babies had never gotten the chance to take their first breath. It was horrible, and she had the weapon sitting in front of her that was said to be able to stop it. What kind of person would know something awful was coming, something that would hurt people, and could just walk away from it? Could leave it to others to sort out, especially knowing that no others were coming?
She knew herself, and the way she'd been raised. You did what you could with what you had. If someone needed help and you were able, you shouldered that burden because that's what good people did.
Regardless of whether she'd wanted in on this fight, she'd been dragged in just by snooping into things she didn't understand. In the end, she had to keep her promise to the woman, and at least attempt to put a stop to this before anyone else got hurt. She'd promised. That might not mean a lot to some nowadays, but it meant a lot to her.
They knew what the Aswang hunted, which narrowed the search area considerably. They knew what he disliked. Best of all, they now knew how to kill him. The odds had to be in their favor, mythological creature or not. Sighing heavily, she replaced the lid back over the box. She'd done plenty more research since they'd gotten back to the motel. Andy thought she was crazy, as she expected.
Still, she couldn't deny the little thrill that ran through her at the thought of being proactive and helping people. It made her feel more powerful. With the wendigo, she'd had no idea monsters lurked unseen in their world. She'd been unprepared and terrified. And yet, against all odds, she'd survived. Now, she was going in knowing what this was and how to kill it. She was stronger now, and had learned from her past. She'd traced her missteps, planning what she'd do if the worst happened again. Surely that would put a few points in her favor, at least.
Putting the box on the bedside table, she drew the covers up over her shoulders, pillow centered in the crook of her arm. Sleep was hard to come, as she had so many thoughts and fears twisting their way through her mind. It was almost impossible to settle down long enough to rest. Her dreams were vivid, full of blood and screams. The feeling of helplessness pervaded them all, running but not getting ahead. Being prey to a creature that defied explanation.
How she hated the nightmares. She was fully aware the beast that captured her was still out there. Still preying on innocent women. It might seem insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but she truly felt that if she could at least take one monster out of the equation, it'd perhaps balance the sheet just a little bit. With that in mind, she and Andy searched for likely locations where a creature such as the Aswang could hide in the bustling city once they woke up.
There weren't too many options, which wasn't as surprising as it should have been. They were outside of LA by a fair distance, so unused buildings weren't as common there. The few nature preserves that existed were sparse, not really big enough to support much wildlife, and definitely not places that a large creature could hide in for very long. That left the industrial complexes to the north of the neighborhood.
Judging by what the Aswang preferred to do in its spare time and the folklore she'd dug up, they were searching out anywhere that had a bloody past life. The only one that made any sort of sense was an old meat-packing plant. It was still operational, but only seasonally. This late in the year, the animals had already been slaughtered, so no one would be leasing it and it'd be sitting empty.
It was the best shot they had. Andy had determined he would be bringing a camera. In his words, she'd be "YouTube famous" if he could catch this on camera. She wasn't so sure that was a good thing. People could be cruel, and many who had come out with stories of the supernatural had been laughed at and belittled. It's partly why she hadn't told many about what happened to her. While she'd prefer backup that wanted to help her versus wanting to film the fiasco, having someone with her eased the nerves, regardless.
She wasn't a fighter. She wasn't a warrior. She was a curvy girl with a few extra stubborn pounds. An animal lover, a bit of a bookworm. A broke college student that had gotten dealt a bad hand by fate. Of course, she'd taken a few self-defense classes after she'd healed to be prepared in the future, but she was pretty sure none of it would come in handy for this type of situation.
Scowling at the clothes she'd brought, she wished she'd thought ahead and considered thicker clothing. Might not help, but having some cushion in case she was hit seemed like a good option now that she knew what she was in for. Her trusty cargo pants and tank would have to do. Luckily, she'd at least had the foresight to bring her steel-toed boots with her, so her feet would be protected from whatever debris was on the floor. Plus, they kicked well.
Tucking the knife into a makeshift sheath at her hip, she checked the batteries for the flashlights and the camera kit. Handing Andy one of the sample size bottles of oil she'd found at the local grocery store, she put hers in her bra. Let's face it, something starts getting warm while nestled in your bra, you'll notice really damn quick. "You ready?"
He visibly paled, shaking his head. "Nope. Not ready at all. Figuring maybe we should stop and get Dunkins. Least then I'll die in sweet, sugary bliss." She couldn't help herself, she laughed in spite of the situation. "Come on Andy, where's your sense of adventure?"
His glare could have withered anyone else, but since he was her best friend, it had no effect on her. "Hanging out somewhere with your self-preservation instincts?" Even as he spoke, he lifted the camera bag, slinging it over his shoulder.
"Let's do this crap-ass gig."
Chapter Six
It didn't take very long for them to realize they were in over their heads. The building was still full of equipment, meaning sharp, pointy things were all around. The electricity had been turned off for winter already, so it was pitch black. She barely made it inside before she hit her arm on something, the stinging letting her know she'd broken the skin and was bleeding.
"My kingdom for a Band-Aid", she muttered under her breath as she turned the flashlight to its highest setting. "You don't have a kingdom. You have a dirty dorm room." That was Andy, ever helpful. "Thank you, Captain Obvious. So delighted to see you again. Shh!"
Deeper in cavernous rooms of the place, she could have sworn she'd heard a noise, like something skittering to remain just out of sight. What it was, she wasn't really sure, but what she did know? They weren't alone.
"Andy? Stay behind me. If it comes down to you o
r the camera, you drop the damn camera and run, understand?" It was her decision to do this, he wasn't going to be the one paying for it. Once she had his verbal affirmative, she crept forward, flashlight quartering the room.
Her heart was pounding so loudly, she was almost sure it could be heard from across the room, but it couldn't be helped. This brought back too many memories, none of them good. Worse, this time she'd dragged her friend into the mess.
A skittering from the next room drew her attention. Motioning to Andy through the beam of his flashlight behind her, she silently made her way to the doorway, blade tucked against her palm. Peeking in, it took a minute for her to realize the person inside was a slight teenage female, huddled against the wall closest to the windows. She looked scared and unkempt, like she'd been taking refuge here for a while.
Sliding the knife back into the sheath, Kira held her hands up in a placating gesture. "Hey sweetie. We're not here to hurt you, okay? Are you alright?" As she got closer, a prickling feeling of awareness started in her spine as the oil bottle began to burn her skin. Before she could reach for the blade again, the woman bared elongated teeth, eyes flashing silver in the beam from Andy's flashlight. Well, shit.
Kira Malone Chronicles: Vol 1 (Slaughter USA) Page 6
