In the mistshrouded barangay of BantayAswang,
where the old ways still hold sway, Jun Reyes
was born with a brush in hand and a vision in
his mind. His father, a stern man who believed
in hard labor over dreams, saw art as a
distraction from duty. But Jun’s sketches of the
diwata spirits that danced in the rice fields
made him a local legend—and a target.
The village elders whispered of a pact made long
ago: any artist who captured the spirits’ forms
would be claimed by them. Jun’s paintings had
grown bolder, more vivid, until one night, the
aswang appeared at his door, its eyes glowing
like lanterns. It did not speak, but its
presence warned him: leave or be bound to the
spirits forever.
Jun fled under the cover of darkness, carrying
only his portfolio and a single sketchbook. The
road to Manila was long and treacherous, filled
with both human dangers and supernatural ones.
In the city, he found work painting murals for
OFW families who missed their homes, but the
spirits followed him. Each time he painted, they
grew stronger, more demanding.
At the heart of the city, he met Lita, a fellow
artist whose work challenged the rigid norms of
the art world. She saw in Jun a kindred spirit,
someone who refused to be caged by tradition.
Together, they began to experiment—painting not
just the spirits, but the choices that shaped
them.
But the spirits would not be ignored. One night,
as Jun painted a mural of the village, the air
thickened, and the aswang reappeared. This time,
it did not ask him to leave—it demanded a choice.
If he finished the mural, the spirits would be
free, but he would lose himself to their world.
If he stopped, he would remain human, but the
spirits would hunt him forever.
Jun stood before the wall, brush in hand. He
thought of his father, of Lita, of the village
he left behind. With a deep breath, he painted
the final stroke. The spirits rose, luminous and
wild, and the aswang bowed its head.
In the morning, the mural was gone, but Jun felt
lighter, freer. He had chosen his path—not as a
prisoner of fate, but as an artist who shaped
his own destiny.
Lita found him days later, standing before a new
canvas, ready to begin again.
