The nipa leaves continued to shudder. A gap was developing within the roof. Analyn didn’t have much time. She ran to a cabinet on the other side of the hut.
Opening the door, she found her family’s bagacay. She lifted it from the cabinet, her hands caressing the bamboo shaft. The sharpened point practically glowed with sacred purpose. She searched the cabinet again and found a small vial containing oil blessed by the priest. She opened the vial and poured some of its contents on the point, which flared even brighter.
Analyn looked triumphantly toward her grandmother, but the woman’s attention was riveted on the ceiling. A clawed hand had torn through the roof. Analyn saw it briefly before it pulled back outside. It was replaced by an open mouth and a protruding tongue. The tongue extended into the room toward the children, becoming as thin as razor wire. Her grandmother desperately tried to shield them from its unholy advance.
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