Scary Filipino Stories Novels & Stories

Although she hired him and admitted at the onset that she has forgiven him for what happened to their relationship, the pain remains embedded deep down in her heart. Unknown to Sarah, her ex-boyfriend is suspecting her to be the manananggal who has been terrorizing the streets of Makati and the killer of his parents. During the times he is in the United States, he hired a team of researchers who are experts in the field of mythical creatures. He instructed them to focus on learning about the way a manananggal hunts its prey and how it masquerades itself as an innocent member of society. And cross-reference this with the evidence he gathered while in the Philippines on the lifestyle of Sarah.

Aslan, despite his age at the time, was still reeling in young women eager for some kind of “experience.” But she had to admit, the mention of the manananggal earlier had sent chills down her spine. It reminded her of an old story she’d heard as a child. During gatherings and celebrations in the hacienda, the staff would tell tales about a woman who lived near the river, close to the waterfall. Supposedly, her body would split in half, sprouting wings, and she would hunt at night. It’s ridiculous. In her world of science and medicine, stories like that didn’t hold any weight. Still, it didn’t hurt to believe just a little—at least enough to make sure she didn’t end up as prey to some mananan

Rosy didn't mind if her lovers were men or women, but the innocence of the village women, high in the Domminga Mountains, where life was carved in sweat and blood alone, and the virtue of living was so entwined with the natural world, made Rose an expat of sorts. The bus to the Domminga Mountains honked. A bunso - young Filipino brother - smiled with a gap-toothed grin. "Aye, blondie! You're the famous biologist Rose Smith, right? Don't you know that the Domminga Mountains are the home of Ikapati Tribe of Aswang? They steal babies to grow their fruit with the bones of newborn villagers. And the Tikbalang are no better, deathly horses that stampede the dreams out of you, leaving you a shell!

“Take a ‘guide’ with you. It has to be someone who can fight off the 'things' up there.” “Just last week there were people who died there while swimming. Here, buy my talisman so you don’t get played with by the ‘residents’ there.” “Seriously, you people have such guts going up there! Don’t blame us if you go home carrying a corpse of one you...” Really?! It’s truly “more fun in the Philippines” when these kinds of comments come your way! Here are their stories. These aren’t their real names, alright: ++++++++++ MARC'S STORY (One of the Leaders of the Group, 19)

The term had been adopted from the Spanish word for {enchanted} so encantos were more related to faeries. Kate’s ma’s story had just taken a turn to the weird. As Kate’s eyes grew ever so large in the dimness of her bedroom, she listened to the same twist she had watched countless of times on TV but never fully believed. Such a story would normally make the rounds of TV news special episodes come Halloween season in the Philippines. It was preposterous and fantastical; the pigment of the bored and overactive imaginations of attention-seeking country lasses. It was something that Kate found entertaining when she saw it as reenactments on TV, not when it happened to someone she knew personally

laughed at the promise. It's probably because I was surprised that a dirty child was clinging to me. Why should I be happy, right? "Naturally, I was surprised, Gen. Maybe later it will be kicked and bitten." "There are no ghosts here. There are no ghosts. There are monsters." This is the answer. "You know, it's amazing that you know folk tales. Do you know the words you use in Tagalog? Can't it be Korean, Japanese, Russian, or Italian... Why Filipino and English?" I asked wonderingly. Of course, I'm Filipino, I just happened to ask here.

They kept reminding me to be patient and not worry too much, even mentioning some of the great stories of their tribe members who had suffered the same conditions, most of whom were still alive to this date and able to share the tale. I tried to calm myself after hearing those stories from Bon. And because I didn't want to be a burden and as a thank you to the tribe, I decided to help with the women's affairs. We went to a creek that they said was safe and could not be traced by men like those armed ones who were chasing me and Jack.

Phil was excited as he wanted to know what the contents of the mysterious pages were. Phil took the stack of bond paper and proceeded to read it while Samantha was beside him waiting to finish reading it. The paper talks about the things Phil needed, more information about the abyss, and the miasma. It talked about how the miasma is supposed to be the blood from a godlike creature imprisoned in the farthest depth of the abyss and how it corrupted its surroundings creating nightmarish creatures. Phil was a little disappointed at first because the information might be interesting it was no use for him right now until he read the third page.

Epilogue: Now that I have written several of these stories, I find that my old ghosts have started to haunt my dreams yet again. It is amazing that once things are written down, they begin to take on a life of their own. Just remember, if you don’t want things to go bump in the night, don’t tell anyone else about them.

MANANGALS – I took the inspiration behind this from the Manananggal which is a vampire-like mythical creature that originated from the Philippines. Like the above, the rest of the supernatural beings have my own take on things. - I hope this has helped somewhat! Thank you!