Chapter 4: The Aftermath
The bungisngis writhed in pain. The warrior shamans surrounded it with gusto, brandishing their arnis in fury. Joan - the lone healer shaman apprentice - stood behind them and poured any support abilities she had.
THWACK. THWACK. THWACK.
In between hits, Billie splashed the bungisngis with the remaining holy water, further weakening its defenses. She made sure the rope held on tight, and delivered a swift blow on the back of the bungisngis' head. It promptly groaned, with its bleeding eye swiveling around trying to see who hit it.
"I'm tired. I think I just used everything I had with that strike. My back hurts," said Billie in a flat tone. She jabbed the sword on the ground, did some stretching movements, and massaged her arms and back. Looking at her worn out running shoes and shirt that were sprayed with blood and dirt, she said, "Damn it, some of the blood actually splattered on me when I pulled you out. It stinks."
"That's alright. You can just take a bath then sleep all day after this," said Puddle.
"Do you think it will be easy to remove these stains? I don't think any detergent can actually remove bungisngis' blood."
"I dunno. Let's just soak it in XX brand later," said Puddle. She can imagine him shrugging if he was in his duende form.
"Nooo, the condo will reek. Let's just throw this away. I don't think I have it in me to actually launder it," said Billie. Then she glanced at Angelica's group. "Do you think they'll realize when I leave?"
"Who? Those kids? They seem busy," said Puddle.
In fact they were. Joan had now resorted to cheering at them from the sidelines as the others whacked the bungisngis' poor ankles into oblivion.
"I think it's time to leave. If we stay any longer than this, the shamans might really catch me," said Billie, pulling Puddle from the ground. Then she deftly snuck to her bike and pedaled away from the scene. But before she could make an escape, an annoying guy tried to pester her and pointed his GoProf camera at her face. She just snatched it and threw it in the direction of the bungisngis.
It flew in a graceful high arc and landed on its head.
-
"So how are things?" a slightly high-pitched male voice came from the tablet speaker. It was Dr. Mirabuena, Billie's psychiatrist.
It was the day after the incident. Billie slept the whole day before and even forgot to take her own medications, which resulted in her feeling highly strung and antsy. Her feet felt cold and numb, and despite the 16-hour rest, she still felt tired.
"I forgot to take Sertraline yesterday and I feel like I'm about to have a panic attack," said Billie, massaging her temples. "Before you ask why I forgot, I was so tired and I ended up sleeping the whole day. When I woke up, it was ten AM."
"I see, what else do you feel?"
"Constantly tired. My head aches and sometimes I get crying spells. It's like Sertraline is not enough."
"You're right. We should switch you to another medication class if that's the case. An SNRI should do it. I'll send the prescription to your email."
After a few more minutes of 'interrogation' as Billie calls it, the checkup was finally over.
"Let's schedule the follow-up in two weeks," Dr. Mirabuena had said.
Billie pressed the close button on her tablet and stood up from her bed. Since she rarely cleaned, she kept her room with a minimalist feel: a simple queen-sized bed with a thick mattress and crisp blue linens, a white bedside table holding a reading lamp, and bare cream-colored walls.
She dragged her feet to the kitchen where Puddle had been busy cleaning. Thank goodness she had him to cook breakfast as well- though in this case, it's lunch - for her. Otherwise, she would have just slept in again.
Billie lived in a two bedroom condominium unit in Quezon City for a few years now. And just like her bedroom, the kitchen was as undecorated as the rest of the home. There were overhead white cabinets across one side, together with the stainless steel sink and the sleek marble countertops. On the other side of the room was a square, beige-colored dining table with accompanying cushioned chairs, and the electric fan.
"Good morning. How's the checkup?" said Puddle leaning over the countertop, while standing on a footstool. The air smelled faintly of warm brewed coffee.
"He changed my medications," said Billie, sitting by the dining table.
"Ooofff, that would be weeks of adjusting again, won't it?" said Puddle, taking a plate and mounting it with heaps of rice.
"Yeah, hopefully it will be better than the last one. My medications are getting harder to pronounce. I'm a doctor and I even have to double check this one," said Billie, standing up and getting the plate from Puddle. She placed scrambled eggs and longganisa beside the rice.
Deciding that she would watch the aftermath of the incident in the news, she said, "I'll eat in the sala. You coming?"
"You should've watched the news last night. You were all over it," Puddle remarked, hopping from the stool.
Billie flinched. "Shit I hope no one recognizes me."
When she arrived in the living room, she placed her plate on the glass center table, and started poking around for the remote control. After finally finding it from the depths of the sofa bed, she turned the TV on, and flipped over to a news channel.
" - meanwhile in headlines today, Mayor Roy applauds the masked hero shaman who helped take down the bungisngis in EDSA. It can be recalled that yesterday, at 8:55 in the morning, a bungisngis appeared in EDSA without warning and sent fear across the metro as it continued to rampage for half an hour. Several apprentice shamans were also on the scene -"
The camera perspective shifted to yesterday's spectacle. An aerial view of the bungisngis' waving around the uprooted tree. The multitude of cars that collided with each other. The nearby damaged buildings. The bungisngis cackling.
"Damn, that thing really did a number huh?" asked Billie.
"Well people panicked. Most injuries were from those," said Puddle. Then he turned to Billie and clapped his hands together, "But that's not the issue here you know? They called you a hero. A hero, you hear me? If Corrin hears about this, she'd be so happy."
Billie felt herself growing warm. "Wahhhh, this is so embarrassing. Thank God, no one knows it's me. And are you crazy? Aunt Corrin would wallop my head off!"
"Yeah she would, but then she'd be happy too. Imagine her niece, a hero."
"Ughhh, don't say that hero shit again. How can you even say all this without cringing?" said Billie, her ears reddening even further.
"There's no need to be shy. You deserve it this time hero," said Puddle, a bright smile on his face.
"Ughhhh, nooooo," she then smashed the remote control to turn the TV off and was about to throw it away when-
"Wha- I was watching that," Puddle seized the remote from her hands and turned the television back on. On the screen was a tall girl with pixie-cut hair. It was Angelica.
"Ooohh it was one of the kids," said Puddle.
But Billie plugged her ears with her hands this time. "I'm not listeninggg."
"Do you know the shaman who helped you?" the reporter had asked.
"No we don't. She just arrived out of nowhere with a bow and arrow and told us to tie the bungisngis' ankles together while she distracted it. We were able to take it down because she had holy water with her."
"What will you say to her if you can meet her again?"
"Thank you for saving us. The damage had been kept to the minimum because of you. Can you imagine what would happen if the bungisngis managed to leap to the MRT? It would be disastrous."
The TV report then shifted back to the news anchor in the studio. "In other headlines, NCR Shaman Regional Office Spokesperson Evelyn Nueva says that Shaman Chief Maya Dizon has ordered an investigation into the cause of the incident. Allegedly, the bungisngis was teleported via an illegal portal and she says that the individual or individuals concerned will be brought to justice. More information will follow in the upcoming days regarding this situation."
"It's crazy. Who do you think transported the bungisngis there?" asked Billie.
"I thought you're not listening?"
Billie ignored him. "What do you think their purpose is? Just to bring about chaos and destruction?"
"Who knows? But it can't be the work of a single person. That thing is huge. It took an enormous amount of sigla to transport it through the Netherworld and back to the Earth plane on another location."
"Teleportation really is a neat trick huh? Imagine you can even teleport a giant several thousands of miles away to the city. We'd have no need for planes or even public transport."
"Don't even try it. Teleportation scrolls are crazy expensive, even more so than holy water. And the further the distance away is, the stronger amount of sigla you need. Your sigla is still erratic. I'm surprised you actually held up in that fight against the bungisngis," said Puddle, flipping through the other channels.
"Are you saying that you're not confident that I can defeat that monster? Why did you even urge me to fight then?"
"You have no choice do you? There's no licensed shaman in the area yet," said Puddle.
"You're right. What do they have teleportation scrolls for anyway if someone like me on a bike can actually arrive faster than them? Aren't they too incompetent?"
"There are designated coordinates on the scroll. Maybe no one has a scroll that has a nearby set of coordinates to that location," said Puddle, shaking his head.
"Well I hope they have a good explanation for it," said Billie, picking up her plate and going back to the kitchen. "I'm going to hibernate. If Aunt Corrin calls, don't tell her anything. Just come up with an excuse."