Anthology of Horror

The December air carried a chill that nipped at Isabelle’s cheeks as she stood before the weathered gates of the old folks home. Her breath fogged the air slightly, and she pulled her coat tighter around her, cradling the assortment of gifts for her husband’s grandmother against her bulging belly. Isabelle’s steps faltered slightly as she adjusted the weight of the packages in her arms, feeling off balance with the added front-heaviness of her pregnancy.

Aunty Rosa, the head nurse at the retirement home, emerged from the entrance, a warm smile softening the lines on her face. She was a sturdy woman with a comforting presence, a figure familiar from Isabelle’s recent visits.

“Isabelle, dear, it’s been too long,” Aunty Rosa greeted, her voice a soothing lilt.

“Much too long, Aunty Rosa,” Isabelle replied, returning the smile. “I brought some gifts for Lola. I hope she’ll like them.”

Aunty Rosa’s gaze shifted to the array of presents Isabelle held. “She’ll be overjoyed, dear. Let me help you with those. Your hands must be full.”

Relieved, Isabelle handed over the assorted bags and boxes as Aunty Rosa led the way. Isabelle stepped into the old folks home. The atmosphere was serene but tinged with an ancient aura, as if the walls held secrets of lifetimes past. Vines snaked their way up the walls, and the peeling paint, a mix of yellow and white, gave the building an aged, almost haunted appearance.

As they navigated the corridors and went up the stairs, Isabelle caught snippets of conversations that floated in the air. The residents’ murmurs seemed to blend with the building’s history, creating a haunting melody. It sent a shiver down her spine, one that had little to do with the chilly air.

Entering her grandmother’s section, Aunty Rosa guided her towards Lola’s room. “Lola Irit, your granddaughter is here to see you,” Aunty Rosa announced gently, rapping her knuckles on the door.

The door creaked open, revealing a small room adorned with familiar trinkets and photographs that spoke of a life well-lived. Her husband’s grandmother lay in her bed, her once-vibrant eyes now softened with age. A flicker of recognition danced in her gaze as she saw Isabelle.

“Isabelle, my dear child,” Lola whispered, her voice fragile yet brimming with affection.

Isabelle crossed the room, careful not to disturb her grandmother’s fragile state, and placed the gifts by the bedside. Isabelle’s gaze drifted to the window. The fading light painted the room in eerie shadows, and she could have sworn she saw movements outside, fleeting forms that dissolved into the darkness.

Isabelle settled into the chair beside her grandmother’s bed, the creak of its aged wood barely noticeable amid the hum of distant conversations in the old folks home. Aunty Rosa sat down across from her, her demeanor radiating warmth and concern. She laid before them a tray of snacks and tea, injecting a sense of normalcy into the moment. But as the minutes passed, Isabelle couldn’t shake off the feeling of being watched, the sense that something lurked just beyond her line of sight.

“Isabelle, how have you been managing, especially with the little one on the way?” Aunty Rosa inquired gently – her eyes filled with genuine care.

Isabelle sighed, the weight of her worries pressing down on her shoulders. “It’s been hard, Aunty Rosa. Miguel is still in Dubai, working long hours as an ambulance driver. Living here in Bulacan is taking its toll and being pregnant without him here... it’s a lot.”

Aunty Rosa leaned forward, her voice reassuring. “I understand, dear. The distance can be challenging, especially during such a crucial time. But Miguel is working hard for your growing family. Remember, he’s doing it all for you and the little one.”

Lola observed their conversation with a fixed, intent gaze, one that seemed to hold a touch of something darker, something less familiar. Isabelle couldn’t shake the feeling that her grandmother’s eyes harbored a hint of malice, a stark contrast to the affection Lola used to shower her with.

Isabelle nodded, finding some solace in Aunty Rosa’s words. “I know. I just wish he could be here, to share these moments with me. It’s difficult feeling so alone in this.”

Aunty Rosa offered a sympathetic smile. “You’re not alone, Isabelle. You have your family and us here at the home. We’re here to support you in any way we can.”

As they conversed, Aunty Rosa’s attention flitted briefly to Lola, who was now wearing an unsettling expression. The old woman’s gaze had shifted, fixating on Aunty Rosa with a cold, calculating intensity that sent shivers down Isabelle’s spine.

“Is everything okay, Aunty Rosa?” Isabelle asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Aunty Rosa glanced at Lola Irit and then back at Isabelle, her expression softening. “Your grandmother has been showing signs of confusion, dear. It’s part of her condition – dementia. Sometimes she loses track of who’s taking care of her, and her behavior might seem a bit erratic. Please don’t worry too much about it.”

Relieved by the explanation, Isabelle let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “I see. It’s just... unsettling.”

Aunty Rosa nodded understandingly. “I completely understand. It can be challenging, but it’s important to remember that she doesn’t mean any harm.”

As the conversation drew to a close, Aunty Rosa excused herself to attend to other residents, leaving Isabelle alone with Lola. The room fell into a silence broken only by the soft rustling of the curtains and Lola’s wearied smile.

Lola’s eyes, now devoid of the intense gaze, met Isabelle’s with a sense of familiarity. There was a tenderness in that smile, one that spoke of love that she feels for her grandson’s wife.

“Isabelle, my dear,” Lola murmured, her voice fragile but filled with affection. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Isabelle managed a smile, though the unsettling sensation lingered in the back of her mind. Her grandmother’s shifts between lucidity and whatever unsettling presence had briefly taken hold left her feeling both comforted and unsettled, a contradictory mix of emotions in the presence of a woman her husband had always revered and loved.

Suddenly, an unexplained draft caused the door to creak slightly, drawing Isabelle’s attention. But what she saw next made her blood run cold.

A shadow, elongated and indistinct, seemed to dart across the hallway outside, as if propelled by something unseen. Isabelle’s breath hitched, her hand instinctively resting on her swollen belly, a protective gesture born out of fear.

Lola Irit noticed the change in Isabelle’s demeanor. “Is everything alright, dear?” She asked weakly.

Isabelle forced a smile, trying to dismiss the inexplicable chill that gripped her. “I think I just felt a little lightheaded, that’s all.”

Isabelle’s attention drifted to the large windows that overlooked the serene gardens outside. A tapping sound, persistent and rhythmic, echoed from beyond the glass. It seemed to beckon her, unnerving in its constancy, particularly because they were on the second floor of the old folks home.

A shiver raced down her spine, the tapping like an ominous beat in the silence. Isabelle’s gaze flickered toward her grandmother, seeking solace or some form of reassurance in Lola’s familiar presence.

But as she turned toward her grandmother, seeking the comfort she had often found in Lola’s eyes, she was met with something wholly unfamiliar and utterly terrifying. Lola’s face, once filled with warmth and affection, now bore a chilling, blank expression. As Isabelle’s eyes widened in alarm, that blankness contorted into a grotesque and deliberate sneer, a smile that oozed with malice.

Isabelle’s breaths came in short, sharp bursts, her mind racing, unable to process the jarring shift in her grandmother’s demeanor. The tapping against the window slow and deliberate now, almost a whisper, a haunting accompaniment to the scene unfolding in the room with the sound of a rhythmic “Tik. Tik. Tik.”.

A gasp caught in Isabelle’s throat as a surge of fear engulfed her. She stumbled backward, her hand involuntarily clutching her pregnant belly as her heart raced with a primal terror. The creak of her chair echoed through the room as it toppled to the floor, breaking the suffocating silence. A sense of panic and disbelief flooded her as she tried to comprehend the sudden, chilling transformation.

She had watched in terror as her grandmother, seemingly frail moments ago, now lunged out of her bed, standing unnaturally stiff, fixated on Isabelle with a terrifying expression etched upon her features.

The lights in the entire building flickered erratically, casting the room into alternating states of dimness and stark brightness, like an old film caught in the frenzy of constant camera flashes. Isabelle’s breath caught in her throat as she witnessed an otherworldly transformation unfold before her.

Lola’s eyes, once filled with love and warmth, now emitted a ghastly yellow light, an eerie luminescence that seemed to choke the air, leaving Isabelle gasping for breath. Her grandmother’s transformation continued; her well-kept nails elongated and sharpened into monstrous claws, and her tongue seemed to stretch, extending unnaturally, hanging just inches above the floor.

A shiver coursed through Isabelle’s body, the sheer impossibility of what she was witnessing rendering her speechless. It was as if reality itself had unraveled before her eyes, replaced by a nightmare she couldn’t escape. As Lola paused to smile, a haunting sound, an eerie voice seemingly emanating from the void, cut through the air.

“Thank you,” Lola’s voice resonated, an otherworldly timbre that sent chills down Isabelle’s spine. “For the gift.”

Before she could gather her senses, the lights in the old folks’ home flickered violently once more, as if dancing on the verge of existence. Then, in an abrupt, haunting moment, they were extinguished entirely, plunging the room into an abyssal darkness that swallowed everything in its wake.

Moments later the lights flickered on, Isabelle’s gaze fell upon the figure lying in the bed. Lola Irit lay there, seemingly peaceful, her chest rising and falling in a rhythmic slumber. The tranquility of the moment was starkly at odds with the whirlwind of horror Isabelle had just experienced.

However, a wave of disorientation consumed her as she noticed the crimson streak marring her dress, emanating from her womanhood. The realization struck her with a force that stole her breath – a sudden comprehension that seeped through her, connecting fragmented pieces of a haunting puzzle.

The gravity of the situation settled heavily upon her shoulders. Her husband’s ulterior motives, the horror of the creature lurking behind Lola Irit’s façade – it was all too much to bear. Isabelle stood there, her mind racing with the knowledge she had unwittingly stumbled upon, grappling with the unfairness of her situation.

In a desperate frenzy, she lunged towards the sleeping figure of Lola Irit, her heart pounding erratically in her chest. Isabelle’s scream pierced the air as she reached out with trembling hands, fingers clawing at the form of the frail old woman, now revealed to be the monstrous creature from the tales she’d heard.

“Isabelle!” Aunty Rosa screamed as she put herself between the old woman and the young woman.

“What happened to you?” Aunty Rosa asked as she noticed the streak of blood that came from Isabelle. Aunty Rosa’s eyes grew wide with alarm and sorrow. She wrapped her arms around Isabelle, pulling her away from the sleeping figure with all the strength she could muster. Isabelle fought against her, her screams reverberating through the room, each word laced with desperation and unbridled terror.

“Aswang! Aswang!” cried Isabelle as the commotion escalated, the corridor filled with the sounds of Isabelle’s anguished cries, nurses rushing to assist Aunty Rosa, and the bewildered gazes of the elderly residents, all witnessing the harrowing scene unfolding in the heart of the home.

In a whirlwind of emotions and chaos, Isabelle was swiftly ushered out of the building, her cries echoing in the corridors as she was guided towards the retirement home’s ambulance. As the ambulance’s doors shut behind her, Isabelle was left in the silence of the vehicle, her heart clenched with the knowledge that there was no saving her child, no reversing the dark reality that had torn her life asunder.