Case file #__2: Mandurugo in Manila
That's such a strange word.
Tony saw it in a headline on one of the tabloid newspapers a street vendor was holding. Written in bold black letters was "Mandurugo in Manila." Curious.
"What the hell is a Mandurugo?"
At 28 years old, and being in the force for 6 years at this point, Tony has never encountered the name, much less the creature. He knew of the infamous Manananggal and Aswang. The Kapre and the Nuno. Even the Tikbalang and Tiyanak. But he has never come across a Mandurugo yet.
"How much for one?" he asked the street vendor. He pointed to the newspaper.
"Kinse, chief," the street vendor answered as he handed Tony one.
Tony gave him one 20-peso bill as payment. The street vendor smiled and pocketed the money. Tony waited with raised eyebrows. "My change," he reminded the vendor.
The street vendor, a scrawny brown-skinned man just around Tony's age, looked much older than the policeman, due to his day-to-day exposure under the scorching sun. He had to wake up earlier than most, and at night one of the last ones to go home, only to repeat the cycle hours later. He fished for the measly 5-peso change Tony couldn't live without and handed it to him. Tony immediately waved him away afterwards.
Tony began poring over the article.
"Mandurugo spotted in Sampaloc, Manila...locals report seeing a figure much similar to a Manananggal...full body instead of the most commonly known flying torso...famous mythfolk priest...The Church of Divine Order...Father Thomas gave his professional insights and deduced that the flying woman with exceptionally long hair and bat-like wings was not a Manananggal, due to the fact that it still had its lower half of the body intact. This creature is a Mandurugo instead...evidence of backwards-facing legs leaving misleading footprints...making the victim think it is running away from them when it is, in fact, charging forwards. The farther its footprints seem from the victim, the closer it actually is...doesn't transform in the daylight, unlike the Manananggal, but instead keeps its hideous monster form and only hides deep within the forests...The Mandurugo in Sampaloc had been found to hide in Balete trees...
"Fucking hell..." Tony muttered. Clicked his tongue. Shook his head. "Disgusting...ate a man's heart...left another disemboweled at the Nagtahan intersection...these demons should be eradicated," he shook his head again.
Naturally, the Police Chief, Chief Joriz Santillan of Sampaloc Police Station have informed the SCID about the case. The existence of a Mandurugo on the national news was the last thing they wanted. Chief Santillan gathered up his best agents to assemble Task Force Pagmamahal—Pagtulungang Malupig ang Masasamang Halimaw—with SPO Tony Alarcon as its task force commander.
Tony wasted no time in solving this case. Within three days, he had collected intel from people around the area the creature was first spotted at. From there, he extended his search efforts, monitoring neighborhoods, from the fancy subdivisions to the dingiest slum areas, asking around residents, commuters, motorists, students, workers, establishment owners, and street people, until their hunt ultimately stretched across nearby cities. On one of his nightly routine surveillance, he came across a priest in a black robe loitering around the Nagtahan Bridge.
"You know, it's dangerous to be out so late in these areas, Father," Tony said approaching the innocent priest. "Are you new around here?"
The priest, despite his kind, almost naive appearance, had a certain look in his eyes that was unmistakable to Tony. They bore the resolve and intrepidity of an honor-bound man.
"Do you go to church, officer?" was the priest's answer.
"I don't. I don't believe in God."
"Yet you believe in monsters."
Tony eyed him. "What is that supposed to mean, Father?"
"You're looking for her, aren't you? The Mandurugo."
"There's no such thing."
"You're taking me for a fool."
Tony continued to study the unassuming priest, but slowly, his quiet demeanor began to finally register to him as what it truly was, a calm knowing.
"What are you, some kinda hunter-priest?"
Their conversation was interrupted by a faint sound of wind, like a tarp flapping in the breeze. Tony glanced up at the night sky, looking for the source of sound, when he caught the expert movement of the priest. A small shift in stance. He looked under the bridge, in the water, and saw the Mandurugo hanging upside-down by the girder, stalking them, waiting for the perfect chance to pounce.
"Putang ina!"
Tony's fright took over. And without thought, he unholstered his gun and fired at the creature. The Mandurugo flew, shrieking, drawing out its claws to attack. What came next confused Tony as much as it concerned him. The priest held his gun by its sweltering nozzle, unfazed. When he retrieved his hand, Tony saw different sizes of keloid scars in various healing stages, with one of the still as raw as the burn mark his gun made.
"Are you crazy!?"
"Don't shoot yet. You're not going to banish it properly that way."
Tony relented in spite of his doubt. And just when the priest couldn't get weirder, he procured a switchblade knife from the pocket of his robe, then proceeded to use said knife to slit his palm, right across the burn wound. Tony grimaced in secondhand pain. "What the fuck!" he whisper-shouted.
The priest, whose stare hadn't left the Mandurugo, gestured for Tony to hand over his government-issued service weapon. Tony hesitated at first, but with the urgency of the situation, he had no choice but to put blind faith in the priest, no pun intended.
The priest covered the barrel of the gun with his blood before aiming a shot at the Mandurugo, who had been flying wildly around them, trying to snatch them up, to scratch them, to sink its claws and fangs into their flesh, to steal then eat their hearts.
The fire missed. The priest tried again. Another miss. He might be a seasoned hunter-priest but he ain't no marksman.
"Give me that!"
Tony grabbed the gun, pointed at a direction where he predicted the Mandurugo would fly towards, before it swooped down to strike them again, and pulled the trigger. The shot landed squarely on the Mandurugo's forehead, causing its skull to burst.
The next morning, Task Force Pagmamahal had one less monster creature to hunt down. With the Mandurugo gone, SCID had officially written the case as closed. But it wasn't the first mythfolk monster to have terrorized their city. And it certainly wouldn't be the last.
Tony visited church the following Sunday. He was raised Roman Catholic growing up. But he doesn't believe in faith anymore. He doesn't believe in God. But he never could have predicted that one day he would find himself walking down a church aisle, beholden to one of its devoted servants for saving his life.
"I thought you don't believe in God," a familiar man greeted him. He wore a silver chasuble over his black cassock. He lead the mass that morning.
"You don't either," Tony argued. "There's no Jesus or saints in this church."
"Different God," the priest answered. "But God all the same."
Tony nodded. "I didn't quite catch your name, Father."
"You never asked."
"Oh. Right."
"I'm Father Thomas Domingo. You can call me Father Thomas."
"Nice to meet you, Father Thomas. I'm SPO Tony Alarcon of the PNP-SCID," Tony offered Father Thomas a handshake, which he accepted. "I owe you my life."