Sui

Succubus

2005-09-20T15:26:00.000+08:00

By F. Claveria

---

"The devil never sleeps. He is always up to some mischief, even in our dreams," declared Father Montemayor.
Samuel and his fellow seminarians, who had just finished tidying up the kitchen after lunch, were resting before proceeding to their next duties for the day.
The old priest was narrating how he had seen himself in a dark chamber filled with people laughing loudly. They were all in white but their flesh was black. Men were being cuddled and kissed by women. He cowered in a corner surrounded by leering women, one of whom, who had long hair came, closer to him. As she approached, he was frightened by her sharp look. He stepped back but she followed him. She opened her mouth, revealing a double row of teeth, her tongue flapping rapidly. At that moment, he woke up in terror, only to be terrified even more by the sight of a naked creature squatting on his belly. She scratched his neck with her pointed black nails. Trembling violently, he pushed her away. She vanished before she touched the floor.
Father Montemayor said he could not sleep for many nights. After that incident, he prayed hard to strengthen his faith.
"So far, it is the worst thing I have experienced since I became a priest," Father Montemayor declared.
"How horrible! If that had happened to me, I would have been scared to death," Samuel commented.
The old priest stood up and walked a few steps to the door.
"Samuel, would you please come with me for a moment? I would like to get a small image of the Virgin Mother from the storage room. It will be used in the procession this evening. The rest of you may attend to your other duties."
Father Montemayor was the oldest priest in the rectory. All the seminarians liked him. In his free time, he would call some of them and share with them tales about his stay in the rectory. In spite of his age, he took charge of organizing such activities as the parochial processions.
Samuel followed the old priest down the dim corridor. They stopped in front of the storage room, a room that Samuel was curious about, for it was rarely opened. Father Montemayor turned the key and pushed in the door. It squaked on its hinges.
It was the first time he had gone inside. The place was dark and the must air stung his nostrils. The light from the hallway provided a faint illumination which cast pointed shadows on the walls, creating a phantasmagoric illusion. Samuel shivered as he gingerly looked around. He lingered behind as the old priest searched for the light switch with his hands. He heard the priest grunt in satisfaction as his hands finally found the switch. Snap. No lights. Samuel inched forward. He thought he heard the old priest cursing under his breath as he tried the switch on repeatedly. Father Montemayor moved across the room, his hands groping in the dark, carefully and slowly making his way forward with Samuel close at his heels.
After a while, the room seemed less dark. Father Montemayor and Samuel looked around, their eyes now accustomed to the dark. Samuel made out the draped objects lying around the room. They started pulling off the sheets which covered the images, disturbing the sleeping dust and the cobwebs. Samuel lingered and studied the images they had uncovered. Some of them seemed very old, worn out by time and nor unrecognizable. There was an image of a black priest holding a loaf of bread , with half of the face torn off and the other half covered with mildew. Samuel wondered whose image it was. Inching farther, he saw an image of Christ inside a glass coffin. The dried blood on the red robe and the crown of thorns looked real. He heard something--he thought it was a groan coming from inside the coffin. Petrified with fear, he darted out of the room, leaving Father Montemayor alone.
The light in the hallway comforted him. He leaned against the wall and pressed his head against it. He was sweating. Trying to shake off his fear, he paced the floor, limbering up his hands to fight off his nervous hysteria. After a while, Father Montemayor came out, cradling the image he had been looking for.
"Father, let me carry it."
"Oh! Why did you leave suddenly?"
"I was afraid, Father."
"Only a dark room, you are already afraid."
Samuel was unable to reply. He felt ashamed. They took the image to the table near the altar.
"Samuel, please hand me a rag to wipe away the dust. What time is it?"
"It's three-thirty, Father."
"Oh! half an hour and the confession will start. Please remind Father Celestino that he is scheduled to hear confessions this afternoon."
"Very well, Father. Do you need anything else?"
"No, I'm fine."
On his way to Father Celestino's room, Samuel met some of his fellow seminarians. Some of them were singing hymns, others were sharing their experiences in childhood. He listened for a while. Though he envied them for they seemed to be enjoying their stay in the seminary, he would rather pray for them to remain loyal to their calling.
Father Celestino, visible behind the curtain from the window, immediately caught Samuel's attention as he drew near. He observed the priest for a while.
Father Celestino took off his cassock, then his undershirt, and laid them on his bed in front of a mirror. For a moment, he stared at his reflection.
He was a man of about thirty-five. His hair was still full and black. He had a robust chest dominated by a dark shade between his nipples that stressed his masculinity. His body was hard and he looked fit. Many women were attracted to him, though he could never be seen regarding women in a special way.
He picked up a small transparent bottle from the cabinet and poured some of its content on his palm, rubbed it on his body up to his neck. It looked like oil or liniment. Samuel suddenly remembered that he should remind Father Celestino of the confession. He knocked timidly on the door.
"Father Celestino, are you there?" Samuel called, pretending not to know.
"Samuel, is that you?"
"Yes, Father, I just want to remind you that it's time for the confession."
"Oh! Thank you. Are there a lot of people already? Please tell them to form an orderly queue. I'll get dressed."
Samuel immediately proceeded to the confessional box. He cleaned it at once. It was slightly unattached to the wall and was placed near the image of the Immaculate Conception by the wall covered by a velvet curtain. After a few minutes, Father Celestino entered. Samuel moved out of the box and pretended to arrange the folds of the curtain, but he quietly slithered behind it and eavesdropped.
Samuel did not hear the first confession. It must be the woman he noticed who was the first one in the line. She was an attractive woman, probably in her late twenties. She spoke softly and inaudibly to the priest, so gentle as if she was whispering. All he heard was the priest's response.
"Good women like you should not do that. Accept your sin as a lesson and learn from it. Ask our Heavenly Father for forgiveness. Say three Our Fathers, five Hail Marys."
"Thank you for your guidance, Father," the woman said.
Samuel snapped his fingers soundlessly, becoming envious of the priest. He bit his lips. He could not wait to be ordained so he could listen to confessions, too. Another woman knelt down before the woven screen divider.
"Father, help me ask for forgiveness. I stole some money from my husband and donated it to the church. He got angry with me for not saying how I spent the money. I escaped from his beating and rushed here. He is a bad husband, Father. He always beats me up. Sometimes I think it would be better for me to put poison in his food so that I could be free. Help me, Father. I don't know what to do." The woman wept.
"You should not do that. Revenge is not the answer. It is in God's Hand. Ask for his forgiveness for what you have done. Then say three Our Fathers, five Hail Marys . . ."
There was a long queue of people outside. They looked thoughtful. THey stared at the floor, the ceiling and elsewhere; some men were balling up their fists. There was a man with a vague expression. Peeping behind the curtain, Samuel could not tell if he looked remorseful or what. Samuel waited for him to enter, curious to know what the man was going to confess. At last he entered the confessional box after an old woman with a black veil stepped out.
"Father, I do not know where to go and seek guidance. I am ashamed for what I did. I beat my wife because she nagged me when I came home late last night. She saw a stain of lipstick on my collar."
Samuel giggled behind the curtain as he heard about the stain of lipstick on the man's collar. He wondered what the man could have been doing.
"Father, I did not know what I was doing then. I was drunk. So I denied all her accusations. She cackled all night that I couldn't sleep. I could not stand the noise so I beat her up until she shut her mouth. This morning, she would not talk to me even after I told her I was sorry," the man continued.
"She will understand you later. Ask for mercy and forgiveness for your sin. You should not hurt your wife. Talk to her calmly. If she still doesnt listen, leave her for a moment. Give her time to calm down, then explain ecerything. Tell the truth. She will understand you. Ask help from the Lord. Now, say five Our Fathers, ten Hail Marys," the priest said.
Samuel soon got tired eavesdropping. He managed to come out without being noticed.
He found Marco, a fellow seminarian, preparing dinner together with the other boys assigned to do the task. They dined earlier than usual for they still had to prepare for the procession.
Father Montemayor led the procession. Singing the Ave Maria, the boys carried the imafe of the Virgin Mary followed by some parishioners with candles. After they had passed the disgnated route, they brought the image to the house that was assigned for the visitation.
When they returned, they immediately retired to their rooms. They felt tired that it didn't take them long to fall asleep. Samuel wasn't able to sleep at once. He read a book and waited to feel sleepy.
It was already past ten o'clock in the evening. Everybody was asleep. The room was so brightly lit it seemed like a lighthouse, standing proudly in the surrounding darkness. He felt sharp hunger but was afraid to go out alone. He forced himself to overcome his fear. He opened the door slowly and padded along the corridors. He turned on the light at every corner. There was silence all around. He could feel his heart pounding rapidly. He felt a chill as he passed the window overlooking the tree branches that swayed outside. He saw large shadows crawling over the walls. As he turned left to the corridor where he had accompanied Father Montemayor earlier, he felt his head growing bigger. He was surprised to see that they had forgotten to lock up the storage room. He dashed past it, could not look sideward. A few more steps and he would reach the kitchen. Suddenly, Samuel heard a hollow voice coming from nowhere. He felt panic. He held his breath and began listening intently to find out where the sound was coming from. Slowly he walked along the hallway and focused his ears on every door he passed, while praying earnestly for the sound to be human. Quivering with fear, he stopped in front of the door where the dreadful sound was more distinct. He breathing hard, trying to hear what the voice was saying. His eyes grew wide. His breathing stopped for a moment. He was outside the door of Father Celestino's room. He heard the vouce mumble but the only phrase that was audible was --
"And deliver us from evil."
Samuel imagined a naked creature with long, black fingernails squatting on the priest's belly.

Philadelphi

2005-09-20T15:15:00.000+08:00

By A. Capili

---

"And deliver us from evil." the voice mumured from inside the priest's room.
Samuel imagined a naked creature with long, black fingernails squatting on the priest's belly.
"Father Celestino is probably talking in his sleep again."
"Jesus!" shouted Samuel, who looked back to check who it was who caught him off guard.
"Shhh!" hissed Marco, a fellow seminarian who was half-Spanish and half-Filipino. He had such a well-defined muscular physique because he was part of the seminary swimming varsity and his caucasian palor seemed to make him more like an apparition in the blackness of the night. His thin lips were blood red.
"Oh, it's just you. For a second there, I thought you were a ghost or something of that sort. After all they say that this place is haunted. It's been here for centuries and it has witnessed so many triumphs and its equivalent of tragedies, noone can tell exactly how many spirits roam here." explained Samuel, who was now a bit at ease upon realizing that it was just one of his fellows that was behind him.
"What are you doing here," Samuel followed up.
"The Schola Cantorum just finished practicing, we're working on a very magnificent piece composed by our own Monsignor Louis," replied Marco in an as-a-matter-of-factly manner.
The trees outside were swaying and rustling gently in the midnight summer breeze. The wind caused the water to form waves that slapped the sides of the swimming pool right below, creating sounds not unlike that of a calm sea. The crescent moon was almost all in shadow because of stray puffs of clouds in the sky, barely illuminating everything below.
"And you? What are you doing here anyway?" said Marco inquisitively.
"I was hungry," said Samuel, as he frowned while rubbing his stomach in circular motions. Samuel didn't look like someone who'd regularly have a midnight snack. He was an average built Chinoy, almost as tall as Marco.
"You're such a glutton, we had a feast a while ago," said Marco.
Samuel had been watching the creeping darkness all around him, he wasn't paying attention at all to what Marco just said. His heart was pumping so loudly that it was the only thing he could hear, muffling the sounds of the night. Goosebumps were making his hairs stand, he felt that his head grew bigger. He was focused at a dark corner near the base of the nearby stairs, there were two luminous specks watching him. They were like glowing fireflies, flying very low but steadily, mirror images of each other. Then they were gone, and he saw a dark creature scamper from the base of the stairs to an open door leading outside the dormitory. Samuel, terrified, jumped to his feet and found his arms wrapped all over Marco and his face buried in his chest.
"And I see that you're also a chicken. Your knees are shaking. It was just a cat stalking its prey. No reason to be scared at all." was Marco's immediate reaction.
"You're just pretending not to be afraid, I know you're also scared of the ghastly creatures that are said to inhabit this seminary." protested Samuel, who has now gotten his composure back and has broken off his embrace from Marco.
"You wish! Unlike you, I am man enough to face the darkness." replied Marco to Samuel's preposterous accusation. Inside Marco's head, he was talking to himself. He is not afraid of anything, thought Marco. There are no such things as ghosts. He doesn't even believe in God, unless he sees proof. He doesn't want to hear that everything around him is proof enough or that God can be compared to the wind or air. He doesn't want to hear anymore bull. He is tired of pretending to want be a priest, afterall he was just forced to attend the seminary by his parents. He doesn't have the seed of vocation in him, a stupid goat probably ate the sprout before it even bacame a sapling he jests. People say that this institution on a hill just above the ophidian river of the capital is one of the most prestigious exclusive catholic schools for boys, that men who come from here become primemovers of society in the future. But he is tired of all the hippocrisy. What Marco thinks is that his parents just don't have time to look after him, that's why they sent him to the seminary for his secondary education. He is ready to give everything up just for life outside. The only thing that makes him stay inside is the seminary choir and the swimming team.
"I dare you to go inside the storage room! Let's see who's a chicken now!" demanded Samuel while pushing Marco towards the room, interrupting his introspection.
"You bet I will. I am not afraid of anything." declared Marco, who was now walking towards the storage room.
Marco went inside the dark windowless room. The air was musty, there was dust and cobwebs everywhere. He could make out images of saints covered in sheets of white all around him. He was not at all scared. He just stood there, tapping his rubber sandals at the wooden parquet floor. Five minutes seemed like an eternity, he was getting bored. Marco thought of himself stupid because he allowed Samuel to get the better of him by doing his dare. He was about to go out of the room when he felt someone's hand patting his back.
"What?" Marco asked while slowly turning around to see who it was.
"Uhmm Hey, I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have dared you to go in this room. You just got into my nerve when you called me chicken. I admit that I am afraid of a lot of things, but I can be brave when needed." explained Samuel.
Marco just replied with a toothless grin and Samuel just smiled back. Marco decided that it's time to go to his room and get some shuteye, he took a step forward. Unfortunately Samuel knocked a few candelabras when he went inside the room the afternoon before, so that Marco's foot landed on one and made him slip. He fell on top of Samuel.
"Thanks, you just broke my fall. Hehe." said Marco, a bit embarrassed. Marco's hazel-eyed gaze bore into Samuel. That's when the two noticed how close their faces were to each other. Just a couple of inches away. Marco instinctively pulled away, but the hand that was tapping his back a while ago suddenly lifted and gently took hold of his nape.
"What are you doing!?" Marco protested. "I --"
Marco was not able to finish what he was going to say, because while he was at it, Samuel lifted his head and kissed him. He seemed to like it, his lips lingered a bit on Samuel's. Samuel was such a good kisser and Marco has not been kissed for a long time, either by a girl or a boy. Marco felt weird that his fellow seminarian was kissing him but he liked it thoroughly. He felt that someone wanted him, that someone needed him. He was in no way homosexual, he thought. Or at least, he did not expect that a kiss from the same sex would be very pleasurable. Even though Samuel's kiss made him feel like wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him back, Marco felt that he needed to pull away.
Marco was bigger than Samuel, but the latter's grip of the former's nape was like iron. Iron! Marco managed to wrestle his lips away from Samuel long enough to say,
"Stop it. This is not right."
"Come on Marco, don't tell me you haven't been thinking about this all this time." Samuel said in a voice filled with passion. He kept on kissing Marco, not on the mouth --because he already turned his head sideways, but on the neck and at some point, part of his ear.
Marco gathered his strength and managed to pull away from Samuel's grip. He stood up and brushed the dirt off his clothes. He rushed to the door and called to Samuel.
"Never speak to me again." Marco blurted and started walking, hoping that everything was just a nightmare and that it would not happen again. Because of course if it did, and Samuel attempted to kiss him again, there was a very high probability that he would kiss him back. He knows that now. Marco is sure of it.

Graveyard Shit

2005-09-15T15:47:00.000+08:00

Your body clock will certainly be out of sync when you work in a contact center. We work a few weeks or months of days, of afternoons, and then of nights and then we start over again (not necessarily in the same order). You don't know whether you should already be sleeping or waking up. You feel tired all the time. I guess the only way you can get used to contact center life is by not getting used to anything at all. But I can't complain. Being the emotional punching bag of unreasonably-irate technologically-challenged Americans has given me a good living, enough to pay the bills and then a bit of cash in my wallet for my metrosexual lifestyle. I have been doing it for almost 2 years now and I've never gotten used to getting my first call everytime my shift starts. All the other techs are just chatting or browsing away and I'm tapping my fingers almost at the same time as my heart beats.

Look who's blogging now.

2005-09-15T14:45:00.000+08:00

After years of resisting the temptation to create my own weblog (or more popularly, blog), here I am. I used to think that people who created these online journals were just a bunch of histrionics hungry for their fifteen minutes of fame but I guess it's not that. I think that blogging is yet another way to sublimate ideas and behaviors that people usually can't do in the real world. More importantly, people usually blog so that they can share to others their philosophical reflections or their views on certain social issues. Additionally, I think it is also an excellent avenue to expend creative energies. Well, I think I should shut-up now before I type in more bull. Anyway, this post is just to test this new blog I have created.