Silent Aklan

Aklan smelled like pine needles, rain-soaked earth, and something secretive. Something waiting.

The road narrowed the farther Karina drove. It was little more than a path walkinto the trees. Her GPS had given up ten miles back, replaced by spotty cell service and a compass that insisted on spinning in place.

Perfect.

The rented toyota groaned as she steered it over the final turn of the highest hill. Then there it was.

Aklan. A villagetoo small for a welcome sign, tucked into a wooded valley like it had been forgotten by time. Old houses hunched beneath mossy rooftops. A single gas station. A post office. Maybe a church. Though the cross was missing.

She rolled down the window. Cool air swept in, damp with fog and bark. No traffic, no chatter, no sounds at all. Just the whisper of wind through the trees and the occasional bird chirping with the knock of tree limbs, tapping together like bones. Silence. Not peace. But silence. Total isolation.

Karina sighed, rubbing at the middle of her nose.

She was here for Grandma Winona, and only that. A temporary arrangement. Two weeks max, just until her uncle sorted out the estate and found a long-term nurse. Then Karina would go back to the city. Back to her clients, her coffee, her predictable, controlled chaos. Her “boring” life.

She parked outside a rundown farmhouse at the edge of the forest. The porch light was on, flickering like it might give out at any second. The door creaked open before she could knock.

‘About time,’ her grandmother said, voice like dry paper. 

‘You brought city stink with you.’

‘Hi, Grandma.’ Karina said as she hugged her frail grandma. She took on this role as she had missed her terribly. And was needing away from her relentless overnight working.

‘You brought those cursed boots too, didn't you?’ Winona eyed her like she'd dragged in a dead animal. ‘Everyone in this place knows not to wear rubber soles. You can't feel what's underneath you.’

‘I need this for driving. Also l don't think that's how footwear works.’

Winona took some light bags from Karina, turned and shuffled back into the house. Winona stepped inside and immediately felt it. The shift. The way the air thickened. Like the walls were holding their breath.

Photos lined the hall. Family she didn't recognize. Faces blurred by time, or maybe by intention. The wallpaper was yellowed and rotting at the edges. Bundles of dried herbs hung from the ceiling. Lavender, yarrow, something sharp like sage.

‘Don't touch anything you didn't bring with you,’ Winona called from the kitchen. ‘And don't leave the porch after sundown.’

‘No matter what you hear.’ She added.

Karina frowned. ‘Why?’

Her grandmother turned slowly, eyes flat and dark. ‘Because this village respects what walks in the dark. But they won’t respect you back.’

***

That night, Karina couldn't sleep.

The wind rattled the shutters and chimes. The trees outside swayed like they were whispering to each other. And somewhere in the distance, a sound. Not quite a howl. Not quite a scream. Just low and mysterious. Something she has never heard before.

Karina worked in a call centre during Monday to Thursday and on a music club during the rest. Both of which require her to be quick to pick up noises and sounds. The noise just now is something she ha never heard of before.

She got up, barefoot, and crept to the window. Fog blanketed the ground, thick as snow after blizzard. The forest was a wall of shadows beyond the fence. 

Was I just getting sleepy?

Something moved.

At first, she thought it was a deer. Then a man. Then nothing at all. Just fog. And that flicker of motion again. Something too fluid. Too quiet. Karina leaned closer. The shape in the trees turned.

Shining eyes caught the moonlight. Not animal. Not human. And for one terrifying second, she knew it was watching her too.

She felt the hairs on her body stand up. Slowly, as if aware that no sudden movements are allowed. Karina remembered her late grandfather’s words.

‘When in the middle of the forest, do not follow the shadows, do not listen to the voices. Even if they sound like your mother.’

The woods had fallen into an unnatural silence. No wind. No rustle of leaves. Not even the rhythmic chorus of cicadas that had droned through the late afternoon heat. Just stillness. Heavy. Expectant.

Karina, awake as she might be, initially thought of going out to investigate. Then she decided it was best to follow her grandparents.

Names: 

Karina - a pretty name. Feels MC ish. Feels strong enough to face ghosts. I thought Winona was a good MC name as well.

Winona - removed prior grandma name, changed to this one. After I remembered my bff actually likes an idol whose name was Karina. ***Winona if you can see this, I strongly urge you to upload your plethora of stories on here. I know you have dozens. I feel that here is a lot better than the other websites you used.***

Aklan - huge province in Philippines brimming with ghost and creatures. Multiple sightings and records from people from and not from there. Thought it would make for a good village name as well.

Source: 

In terms of manner - I like the style Rotten Mango and Dark Asia with Megan share stories on YouTube. I am trying to see if I can also approach third person POV using their sense of story telling, mixed with my own style of course. Until I can find my own groove that I don’t need to see how the others are doing it. But I think that is part of life though. We learn from others. 

Story, plot, idea is all mine.