My island district was free from any form of rebellion and as the politico-military commander I am proud of this. I would like to believe that my success is largely due to my good understanding of the people. The natives here do not want to trouble themselves with the stresses of governance. They are happy enough to let us deal with such issues, while they focus on matters more important to them, such as crop production and preparations for the next fiesta. In such things, I am happy to assist them and provide, which contents them very much. Under such helpful authority, why should they rebel?
Aside from that, the natives here care little about the idea of separating from Spain. The thought of joining the rebel General Aguinaldo repulses them. The opinions of the natives are best summed up by the local gobernadorcillo, who, the other day, told me: ‘What would a Tagalog like him know about the troubles of us people over here?’ They have no desire to join Aguinaldo’s plans for a Tagalog Kingdom and only wish to be left alone under the protection of Spanish authority.
My only concern at the moment is the interference of outside influence. Reports from the Governor-General says that Aguinaldo has been sending out his agents to various provinces in an attempt to incite the natives there to rebel. Although I do not doubt the loyalty of those under my jurisdiction, as a precaution I have ordered the Guardia Civil detachment to begin patrolling streets and surrounding areas, as well as monitor the movement of suspicious persons.
At the moment I have a meager force of twenty men from the Guardia Civil to fulfill this task. The men I command are too few to cover all the district capital, let alone the whole district and its various barrios and roads. However, they would at least display to any infiltrating agents that this area will not be caught lacking and that the government is ever vigilant to stop them.
In regards to other local matters, Dr. Garcia has arrived at the district capital. He is to replace the aged Dr. Rodriguez, the head of the military infirmary in the village, as the latter desires to return home to Spain. Dr. Rodriguez is set to leave for Manila a few days from now, after he is satisfied that Dr. Garcia is comfortable at his new post and well acquainted with the health and sanitary situation of the village.
***
A strange occurrence was reported to me this morning by the sargento commanding the Guardia Civil detachment.
He tells me that during the previous night, while he was leading a patrol along the outskirts of the district capital, he and his men sighted the silhouette of a man lurking at the edge of the jungle. Finding this suspicious, they decided to investigate and approach the man.
As they got close, the sargento recounted smelling the foul stench of rot in the air. At first they wondered where it came from, but quickly realized that the odor was from the man. With each step they took towards him, the fetid smell increased and nearly overcame their nostrils.
However, all thoughts about the odor were completely forgotten when they got close enough to get a good look at the man. The sargento reports that what he saw was no man but a walking corpse.
Under the dim light of the moon, he was able to see that the man was almost completely naked, with only bits of torn clothing on him. With nothing for cover, the rotting flesh of the man was exposed and gave a gruesome sight. In some parts of that man’s body, he says that the flesh was barely hanging from the bone.
He and his men were appalled by the sight and were momentarily unable to act. Eventually though, the sargento spoke up and called up to the man, asking if he was okay and what he was doing in the jungle at such a late hour. This caught the attention of the strange person, who quickly turned towards him and his party. Then, without hesitation, the man rushed towards them with great speed. Before they knew it, he had tackled one of his guardsmen to the ground.
Struggling to get the man off of him, the guardsman screamed as his attacker scratched him and bit him. Unable to pull away the assailant, and concerned for the life of his guardsman, the sargento decided to shoot the man on the back of the head. This immediately resulted in the attacker collapsing, allowing the young guardsman to crawl away.
At the moment, the guardsman is being treated by Dr. Garcia. Although the cuts and bites on him were numerous, Dr. Garcia says that a day of rest was all the guardsman would need before being fit for duty again.
After personally receiving the report from the sargento, I was left baffled. I would have doubted the account and called the man a fool had there not been clear proof, in the form of the deceased body of the attacker and the sorry state of the poor guardsman who was assaulted.
In the end, I concluded that the man must have been insane and had been wandering the jungle for days, gathering up all kinds of illnesses along the way. This would explain why he looked so awful by the time the Guardia Civil patrol encountered him.
The sargento seemed to agree with this deduction. However, before he left for his barracks, he couldn’t help but tell me something he remembered from his old days, when he was still serving in a native infantry regiment posted in the Visayas islands. In that region, he says that the natives there had many mythical creatures that they feared. One of them was called the Maranhig and is said to resemble walking rotting corpses. When he saw that man standing there in the jungle, he said that he couldn’t help but remember that old myth upon seeing him.
In other news, the monthly ferry arrived earlier in the morning, bringing in supplies, as well as local residents returning from Manila. I have ordered the Guardia Civil to inspect each person who got off the boat and to interview those who were not native here.
Later in the afternoon, the ship departed, with Dr. Rodriguez and his family on board. The old doctor is now on his way home.
***
There is great unrest in the village today. The natives are very much agitated and have sent me complaints and threats all day. Even the gobernadorcillo, who is normally positive and very loyal to Spain, tells me that his hands are tied and that his people demand an explanation from me.
This recent wave of outrage began when, according to witnesses, a member of the Guardia Civil violently attacked a farmer who was bringing a cart load of vegetables into the village to be sold at the local market. Initially, the interaction between the two was calm, as the guardsman inspected the cart for any illegal firearms.
However, as the guardsman conversed and interviewed the farmer, those who were there say that the former seemed to grow more and more agitated. Eventually, this guardsman slammed the butt of his rifle on the farmer’s head, knocking him down. Then, without hesitation, the guardsman pinned him down and began beating him up.
Some bystanders responded to the attack and tried to help the farmer, but the guardsman lashed out at them and prevented them from pulling him off. One villager was even bitten by the guardsman, as he tried to push the latter off of the poor farmer.
Alerted by panic stricken villagers, fellow guardsmen, who were patrolling nearby, rushed into the scene and apprehended their wayward comrade. They then brought him back to the Guardia Civil barracks, where the sargento of the detachment tried to reprimand him and ask for an explanation for his actions. However, the guardsman gave no comprehensive reply, and only shouted and lashed out at him. Due to this, he was transferred to the public jail, where he is currently locked up and under watch.
Meanwhile, the farmer, and the villager who tried to help him, were sent to Dr. Garcia, who tended to their wounds. The former is said to be badly bruised, while the latter had a large wound from the bite. Both were treated by Dr. Garcia, before being sent home.
As it turns out, the guardsman was the same man who was attacked by the deranged stranger a few nights ago. I wish I knew what motivation he had for attacking the poor farmer, but as of now he continues to give no intelligible response. Even from here, in my office at the comandancia, I could hear his screams. I doubt anyone in the village fails to hear him.
Following the incident, various village officials and natives approached me throughout the day, demanding to know why the guardsman did what he did. However, not knowing the answer myself, I merely told them that it was still under investigation. This response did not seem to please everyone, as I would get distant shouts from unseen natives, telling me that I was a tyrant trying to suppress the truth. Such accusations shocked me, as I have never been labeled as such by these people before.
Feeling suspicious, I ordered the sargento of the Guardia Civil to increase their patrols and the number of outposts he had in order to safeguard public places. He said he would do what he was told, but complained that he lacked the number of men to effectively cover the whole village.
To help his men, I ordered the cuadrilleros of the village to present themselves and help man the outpost and patrol the streets. It was after calling up the cuadrilleros that I got information from one of them.
According to him, a few hours after the guardsman attacked the farmer, many of the young men of the village gathered at the home of the Hernandez family. With some of his friends there, he was able to join and listen in, as the eldest of the Hernandez brothers gave a sermon to those present.
The Hernandez boy, who had recently returned to the village after studying law at Manila, criticized the recent attack and said that it was yet another example of the Guardia Civil abusing their power. He then went on accusing me as an abusive officer who most likely gave ther order for the guardsmen to be rough to the natives. He then ended his speech by saying that all of them should stay alert for any further abuses and that they should look after one another.
Hearing this concerned me greatly and I ordered the Guardia Civil to keep a watchful eye on the Hernandez family, as well as all those who attended the meeting.
***
It was late into the night and noise made by the imprisoned guardsman had become unbearable. In order to quiet him, the sargento has ordered that a piece of cloth be placed in his mouth. This was quickly done by the guardsmen and cuadrilleros at the jail, but one of the cuadrilleros was bitten during the process. He was thus sent to Dr. Garcia for treatment.
***
Today Dr. Garcia met with me and told me what he believed could be the reason for the strange behavior of the imprisoned guardsman. Talking about it as I hosted him for dinner, he explained to me that while he was serving as an army doctor in Cuba, he had a colleague who was conducting a study on a new form of rabies.
Dr. Garcia explains that, according to his colleague, the early symptoms were aggressive behavior and a tendency to scream out in anger. Later stages of the disease have worse symptoms, as the skin of the poor victim would begin to rot and, in some parts, begin to fall off. During this latter stage, the mind of the infected person would be completely lost, as he would begin to wander around and act with great hostility to anyone he would encounter. In all essence, he would become feral and wild.
Sadly, no known cure or treatment for the disease is known. Dr. Garcia says that he colleague was in the middle of studying the disease and observing possible cases of it in Cuba. However, he was killed in a raid by Cuban insurrectos against their camp before he was able to do so. Dr. Garcia himself did not think much about his fellow doctor’s research at the time and thought it was absurd. Now though, he was beginning to believe that his colleague was on to something and wished that he had read more of the notes the late doctor had left behind.
After telling me this, Dr. Garcia then suggested that the farmer who was attacked, as well as the villager who was bitten by the guardsman, should be placed under his direct observation. The cuadrillero that was bitten by the guardsman was currently still in the hospital, and now he wants the other two to join him. He is under the belief that the disease spreads through bites given by an infected victim, seeing that it is how the guardsman obtained the disease from the deranged wandering man many nights ago.
Realizing the necessity of this action, in order to prevent the further spread of the disease, I quickly agreed. I told him that he could visit the two tomorrow and take them to his hospital. However, I advised him to bring an escort of at least two guardsmen, in case the two were proved uncooperative or aggressive.
***
Earlier in the day, Dr. Garcia managed to collect the farmer from his home outside the village. The farmer proved to be very cooperative and was escorted to the hospital without incident. The second native, the villager bitten by the guardsman, proved to be another story.
Once they arrived outside his home, Dr. Garcia’s calls for him were met with no response. Concerned, Dr. Garcia decided to enter the nipa hut, where the man, who I am informed is a widower, lived alone.
Upon entering the home, Dr. Garcia says that he found the native standing at the central living area and muttering to himself. Despite more calls towards the man, he just continued to stand there without moving or taking note of the doctor’s presence.
At that point, the two guardsmen that escorted the doctor stepped forward and attempted to forcefully grab the man. However, before they could do so, he suddenly turned around. Upon facing them, Dr. Garcia says that the native villager’s face had shown signs of rotting, while his jaw seems to have unhinged, which resulted in his mouth hanging permanently open.
It was a strange and horrifying sight, and it made the two guardsmen hesitate for a moment. This hesitation allowed the man to suddenly rush towards them. Luckily, the guardsman the man was rushing for acted quickly and used his rifle to block the man’s attack. This resulted in the man’s jaw biting the rifle. When this occurred, the second guardsman moved quickly to help his comrade. Using some rope he had with him, he got behind the man and tied his arms.
Once they were sure that the man was secure, the two guardsmen then led the man out. By then, the rifle had been removed from his mouth, resulting in him screaming and shouting incomprehensible things as he was forcibly led out of his home.
Due to this noise, many natives nearby crowded the streets and watched as Dr. Garcia and the guardsmen used all their strength to bring the struggling and howling man towards the hospital. All along the way, curious villagers watched them with curiosity and Dr. Garcia says that he tried to reassure them that they were only taking the man to the hospital for the interest of public health and safety.
Upon arriving at the hospital, the guardsmen, along with a couple of hospital assistants, took the man and tied him to a table. After that, Dr. Garcia then carefully placed some cloth in his mouth in order to quiet him.
Examining his patients, Dr. Garcia found out the farmer had been lucky. Despite being pinned down by the infected guardsman, and despite receiving some scratches from that incident, he didn’t have any bites on him and seemed to have no symptoms of the diseases. Due to this, he was allowed to return home.
The other two cases, however, were another story.
The cuadrillero who was bitten was beginning to show some early symptoms, as he grew more and more restless and agitated while staying in one of the hospital’s rooms, where he is kept inside with a guard constantly watching him. Meanwhile, the villager was in a far worse state. Dr. Garcia says that he was in a similar status to the guardsman, where they were now both highly aggressive and no longer able to communicate.
The doctor also noted that much of the villager’s skin has begun to rot, with some parts already falling off. This is similar to what was happening to the infected guardsman, who barely had any skin that was not rotting or falling off at this point.
He suggests that we request for additional medical professionals to study the diseases and help maintain public health and safety. I have thus decided to send out a messenger to head to Manila tomorrow.
***
We are in a bad situation.
It all began when a crowd gathered outside the comandancia, demanding the release of the cuadrillero and villager. They claim that I had ordered the Guardia Civil to illegally arrest and detain the two.
Going out to meet the crowd, I and Dr. Garcia tried to explain the situation to the natives. Speaking before them, Dr. Garcia said that the two men were sick and were being treated by him. The crowd responded with displeased cries, calling us liars and abusers.
One villager standing at the front shouted at the good doctor, saying that his son, who worked as an assistant in the hospital, saw the doctor and the Guardia Civil tie the villager on a table and then torture him by ripping his skin off. He also said that, according to his son, we kept a member of cuadrilleros locked up in the same hospital, with an armed guard outside the door.
The crowd began to stir upon hearing this, as they pointed fingers at us and threw more insults. The only thing that was preventing them from rushing us were the members of the Guardia Civil that stood by our sides, rifles ready.
However, despite their intimidating presence, the crowd dared to move closer. At their lead was the Hernandez boy, who said that we had no right to imprison the two men.
Trying his best to calm the crowd, the doctor said that the men were not being imprisoned but merely quarantined. This did little to settle the crowd’s emotions.
Soon, some of the more youthful native among them began chanting. “Down with the Castilla! Freedom for our people!”
At that point, we knew that there was nothing more we could say. Left with no other choice, I ordered the Guardia Civil forward in order to disperse the crowd. Despite the intimidating sight of the remingtons, the mob held their ground. As the guardsmen got closer, I was shocked to see one of the more youthful members of the village pull out a long jungle knife. He was followed by other young men, as they drew out hidden blades and suddenly rushed the guardsmen.
Caught by surprise, the Guardia Civil were able to let loose a couple of wild shots, before being cut down by a couple dozen assailants. With that done, the armed villagers then turned their attention towards us. Dr. Garcia and I were vulnerable, with my only weapon being a revolver. Because of this, we ran away from the scene and headed towards the Guardia Civil barracks.
From the noise behind us, I knew that the angry villagers were following. Luckily, those who pursued us gave up the chase when the guardsmen at the barracks opened fire at them.
Frustrated by this, the mob then moved away and turned their attention towards the hospital. Realizing their intention, Dr. Garcia told me that the reckless villagers were placing themselves at risk and that we had to stop them. However, with only ten guardsmen in the barracks, I knew that we would be unable to do anything except get ourselves killed.
Left helpless, we were only able to watch as the villagers stormed the hospital, then the jail. At first, triumphant shouts could be heard, and I can only imagine that they thought they had won a great victory over us.
It did not take long for the gleeful shouts to turn into panicked cries, as a loud, and nearly demonic, growl joined them. I knew that this meant that they had freed the infected villager and, in gratitude, it repaid them by giving them the same disease that had overcome him. I could only guess the number of new infected natives there were now, and how many more would be added in the hours to come.
Watching from the barracks, we could see that the villagers were now running away from the hospital and jail. Realizing this was an opportunity, I then took my small band towards the church, which was the only stone structure in the village. Once there, we were greeted by Friar Santiago, who had come out to see what the commotion was all about.
Having little time to explain, I urged him to go back inside, before telling the guardsmen to close and barricade all the doors of the church. As they were about to close the main entrance, I looked out towards a mob of native men, women, and children, running away from the hospital and heading towards the church. For a moment I contemplated if I should let them in. But I soon dismissed the idea, knowing it was too risky, as I could potentially let in someone. infected.
With a heavy heart, I allowed the main door to be closed and barricaded. For the next few hours, I watched from the bell tower as natives ran off towards different directions, as the three infected men, recently freed by the naive natives, chased after them.
Many villagers met an unfortunate fate and were torn apart by the diseased men, as they ripped off limbs and threw them away. Some were merely biten, but such a fate was nothing to be happy about. Many others managed to escape, either heading to the jungle or heading towards the shore and jumping into the water. Eventually, the village became quiet and seemingly empty. Only the occasional distant screams and growls from the jungle, and the cries of help from people drowning, could be heard outside.
During this respite, we contemplated what we were to do next. The ferry was not due to arrive at the village for a few more weeks, so that meant we had to hold up in the church and wait. We knew that in a few days those who were beaten would soon become aggressive and eventually be completely feral. Until then, however, we had time to prepare and gather supplies.
***
It has been three days now and the first group of newly infected natives have now arrived outside the church. Stumbling across the plaza like drunks, they then looked up at our guards on the upper floors of the church and screamed at them. Observing from the bell tower, I counted at least two dozen of them.
Soon the infected gathered around the church and began slamming their bodies against the stone walls and wooden doors. The noise of both their constant screaming and banging echoes within the church halls. It is unnerving and it brought an uncomfortable shiver through me. It was horrible to hear that constantly and I want nothing else but to get away from it.
In an attempt to ignore the noise, I occupied myself by checking each man on guard. Talking to the guardsmen, I made sure that they were constantly awake while on duty. I then told them to remain vigilant and not fire upon the infected, unless they were about to get into the church.
I wanted to save as much ammunition as possible. When the ferry arrived, we would need every single bullet we had in order to kill all the infected that would stand between us and the wharf.
At the moment we had plenty of rice and water stored in the church, most of which were gathered from the village during the past few days. If we ration our supplies carefully, we would be able to make it last till the ferry arrived.
***
Sometimes, I cannot help but stand by the window and watch the suffering infected. They looked terrible, their skin rotting, jaws hanging open and wide. Meanwhile, their stench was strong, and as more and more gathered outside the church it was hard to avoid the smell of death they carried.
It was repulsing. It is hard to believe that they were once the natives that I had under my jurisdiction. Now they were just monsters.
I hope that we do not meet the same fate as them.
***
The noise of the other infected seem to be attracting those who roamed the jungle, as the mob of sick rotting natives outside the church grows every day. According to Friar Rodriguez, it seems like the whole village was now here, banging on the doors and screeching outside the walls.
Every second, we can hear nothing but them. We have to constantly yell at one another in order to communicate. The sound they make is now excruciating and I feel many of us are going mad just from listening to it all day and all night.
Sleeping is hard, almost impossible. Only exhaustion brings a temporary reprieve from the torture we are in. The day time is no better, as those of us on guard have to watch the great masses of sick gathering in front of us.
I am lucky that I kept my journal in my coat at all times. Writing helps keep my mind away from the noise of death around us. Although it does not last long, it at least gives me a temporary respite.
Guard duty is the worst, as I watch and stare at the infected monsters outside our walls. Every day we see the barrier that prevents us from escaping. Every day we wonder when our time would be. At night, when the elusive sleep falls upon us, our dreams are filled with the terrible sight of those who want nothing more than to maul and bite us.
I pray everyday that the ferry will arrive soon.
***
The damn altar boy had been in here with us the entire time and he was infected! Friar Santiago must have kept him inside his room, hiding him, even when he knew he was sick. I would ask the friar myself why he did it, but he is dead now, killed by the very boy he tried to save.
Ten other people died because of the friar’s attempt to save the unsavable.
It all happened so fast. One moment I was standing at the main hall, the next moment I was tackled by this young boy. Despite his size, he showed strength greater than I could fight.
Staring at the maddened look on his eyes, his broken jaw that hung open and drooled over me, and the rot all over his skin, I felt fear surge through me. No experience I have ever had before could compare to the emotions I felt that moment.
Desperately, I tried to shove him off of me, using my hands to push him away. As I was doing this, I felt a great excruciating sensation of pain. He had bitten me.
Staring wide-eyed, I watched a blood drip from my hand. Turning my eyes back to the boy, I saw him staring at me menacingly. I was convinced that biting me was not the only thing he wanted. There was pure malice in his eyes. He wanted to tear me apart.
The only thing that saved me was the sudden appearance of a guardsman, who slammed the butt of his rifle on the boy. This managed to knock him off of me, but I soon saw him get up and charge the guardsman. As my vision began to fade, I watched as the boy grabbed the guardsman’s foot and broke it. Then everything faded.
When I woke up again, I noticed Dr. Garcia was treating my wounds. Confused and feeling lost, I looked around to find blood and limbs littering the church.
I was told that nine of the guardsmen died before they were able to kill the boy. It was only Dr. Garcia, a lone guardsman, and I who survived, but not unscratched. All three of us were bitten by the infected boy. We thus knew that our time would soon come.
Not wanting to go out in such terrible terms and be transformed into feral beings, we agreed to make one final act before we die.
In a few minutes, the guardsman and Dr. Garcia would open the main church door. Once it was open, I would stand by the altar and lure all the infected villagers in. When we believed all of those infected outside were now within the church, Dr. Garcia and the guardsman would then force the door closed. At that moment, we will then use torches to burn the church down. If all goes according to our plan, all of us infected would all burn to death and the last remnants of the disease will burn with it.
This will be my final entry here. I would soon bury the journal in the church cellar. I floor there is cold dirt, so I dug a hole and will soon bury this, along with my family ring. I hope that someday, someone will find it and learn what happened here.
-——————————————————————————————————————————————
The journal was recovered by the construction team in charge of repairing an old Spanish church at an abandoned island colony. It was found inside the cellar, along with a golden ring that bore a family crest. Meanwhile, the journal itself was in remarkable condition, despite being buried for more than a century.
As a historical advisor in the team in charge of repairing the church, the journal was handed to me for study. Being knowledgeable in Spanish, I spent my spare time translating and transcribing it.
What I learnt from it shocked me and horrified me. At first, I didn’t want to believe it. But now, as the renovation of the church continues, and as bits of burnt bone fragments are being found at the church, I’m beginning to think that there is some truth to the story.
Now, every night at our campsite, whenever I hear distant growls in the jungle, I can’t help but wonder who was making them.