Sunday, January 31, 2010

4th 7th

I am a world-creator.

At daytime, I'm an office drone. I sit in front of a worn-out computer and work from 8 till 5 every single day of the week.

After work, I go to my favorite restaurant and buy my dinner. I pass by the videostore and buy a DVD or two. I eat my dinner in bed and watches a movie until I fall asleep.

But once in a while, I sense something from inside me. Deep in the night, I wake up.

I get my cap. I put on my dark glasses and wear my long black vest.

I head out into the dark treacherous night.

And I buy crystal meth.

I create worlds.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Third Seventh


He is known everywhere as the Uberman, the defender of the innocent. He keeps watch of the city against the evil machinations of the evil Mr. EvilMan.

He met Lara on a recent hostage crisis successfully resolved by peaceful intervention; 'her' being the hostage and 'him' being the "peaceful intervention".

They started dating afterwards.

On their first date, he flew her in the clouds, looking down on the metropolis nightlights only after he cleaned the overcasting pollution over the city.

On their second date, she watched as he summon a huge tornado of water from the Manila Bay, direct it over the island and blow cool air on the falling water thereby creating a snowfall over the hot city-scape.

On their third date, he gave her a large diamond ring made from compacted coal dumps from the Benguet quarries.

On their fourth date, he made her a display of "meteor shower" by gathering all the garbage dumps in the country then compacting them into large balls of trash and hurling them from outer space towards the earth.

As his alter-ego, he is Clint Kane, a lowly obituary writer of the local newspaper. In this disguise, Lara doesn't know his true identity. He likes it that way. He knows that his identity might become a leverage for Mr. EvilMan.

As Clint, he wants to know Lara in a different light. He wants to chat with her over coffee. He wants to stroll in the park with her. He wants to play in the rain with her. Sweet nothings.

But he just can't.

That evening, as Uberman, he made her an amber necklace made from dead trees from the Amazon rainforest.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

The Second Seventh


In her best state, she is just a connoisseur for human scents and flavors. She likes the fragrance of newly washed hair or the smell of fresh sweat on one's neck. She takes pleasure in the taste of one man's salty skin under the sun's heat. She adores the smooth and tender texture of a boy's body going through his pubescent stage.

In her worst state, she is a man-eater, in its most literal sense. She descended from a ritualistic tribe from the jungles in the south who consumes human flesh as part of their diet. It is their belief that consuming human meat gives them life and that regular consumption will give them immortality. That makes her an undying cannibal of sorts.


He walks away from the wreckage as if nothing happened. The nuns say it's a miracle, him surviving scratch less and all. The police say he's just one lucky bastard. The truth is that he has very good regenerative abilities. He can heal a broken limb in minutes, or a deep wound in seconds.

He is a master practitioner of the Indian sutra of healing--an art long forbidden in the culture but still flourishes in brutal underground cage fights. Add that to the fact that he is from the Uuulu tribe (AKA the lizard tribe) whose healing factors are better by a few notches than the normal human.


She is 220 years old. He is 180.

The short of it is that they met -- in a regular fashion for regular people -- in the subway. Their eyes met, both unaware of each other's 'condition'. And as cliché as it may seem, sparks began to fly.

They fell in love passionately and lived together while hiding each other's secret to each other. In this arrangement, she gets the lower hand. She must be very discreet when she goes to the morgue to have her fix. Or when she goes to various crime scenes just to get a bite. Meanwhile, he gets by using only make-up, prosthetics or a splash of catsup to feign being wounded.

This arrangement, though, won't be kept for long.


The body was found in studio A of the film outfit where he works in. She was called to investigate. She arrived at midday while everyone's having their meals. The studio is vacated so she goes straight to the crime scene. It's lunchtime anyway.

He arrives at the studio with takeout Thai food for two. He goes straight to Studio A to eat with her. What he saw completely put him off balance. He saw her squatting down on the lifeless corps, with her hair flowing down unruly on her face and with blood all over her hands and mouth. He wasn't surprised or scared or freaked out, for he himself is a freak.

There was a long moment of silence, both staring at each other's eyes. It was only interrupted by his soft words.

"Let's talk about this at home."

A heated argument erupted at home. All sorts of questions were hurled at each other with varying degrees of intensity. How did it happen? When did it start? Why does she do it? Why did he hide it? Why can't she stop it? Why does he care?

This would soon be resolved thereafter once they realized that each has their own reasons, own strengths and weaknesses. He will live forever but he'll live alone. She will live forever but only if she eats human flesh. And she will live alone. They realized that they are destined to be together.

So they make a pact together.

"I will live forever but I want to live with you
So I offer my flesh to you today and for the rest of our days."

"I want to live forever beside you but
I promise I will taste no man's flesh but yours."

He makes a promise,
"Everyday I will give you life."

And she answers back,
"Everyday I will devour you."

Monday, January 11, 2010

The First Seventh Day

...and the new year cometh.

The third house along the second street was the only unlit house in the area. Everywhere else, sparks fly and fireworks glow in welcoming the new year. In that only dark house, nothing is really new with the coming year.

His arms and legs were dripping with blood. His skin was scratched all over. All around, broken glass pieces were scattered.

He continues screaming incomprehensive words. Each time, he grabs a medicine bottle or glass frame and throws it to a random area in the room. Each time, the room echoes with the loud crash. And screams.

On the other side of the room his mother sits with her back on the door as she wept silently in the darkness. She used to always cry while praying. She had always prayed for him to get better, for the fits to lessen at the least. But just as he continues to lose it, she also began to lose faith. So she stopped praying at all and just cried instead.

She was looking forward to this New Year. In fact, she was planning on doing a new year's resolution. If he only gets better, she said to herself, she will take him to the park every morning. She will eat with him every meal. She will read him bedtime stories ever night. She had promised to be a better mother for him.

But he's got other resolutions. In fact he has many--one for each voice he hears in his head. So he screams each one into the air, unaware that his voice comes out as unintelligible screams. And in celebration he picks up a bottle and throws it like a firecracker.

In his own unique way, he welcomes the New Year.