The winged man

It's back! Midnight Stories will be posted every evening of October to celebrate the month of ghosties and ghoulies and things that go bump in the night. Here's our eighth installment. Enjoy!


I was eight years old when we moved to Bulacan from Marikina City. After city living, the province's
tranquil atmosphere surprised me. We'd already be inside at an earlier time, around five in the afternoon or so. By around eight in the evening, people are already done with their dinner and are about to go to bed. Beyond that time, almost every house is already quiet—and a bit of rustling sound outside can call for attention.

The area in Balagtas, Bulacan where I grew up seldom had people awake until midnight, except for neighbors drinking outside.

One time, I lay awake with my cousins who couldn't sleep either. In front of my aunt’s house there was a spacious lot, with one of the oldest houses in the place, according to my mother. I asked my cousin, “Bakit nakasara ang pinto dito pag gabi? Mainit, buksan natin.”

My cousin shook his head and insisted that we should keep it closed that way, especially with all the stories that circulated around the village. I asked my cousin about it, and he told me about a “taong ibon” who ate one of the chickens of the neighbor across from us.

According to the stories, one midnight our neighbor's roof began to shake, as though coconuts were falling on it. The sound moved form one part of the roof to the other. Our neighbor (an old woman) went outside to see what was going on, armed with a walis tingting.

But to her shock, it was not coconuts that fell on the roof but rather a strange creature. She described it as having the figure of a man, but with wings like those of an eagle, with notable width.

The creature was eating some of her chickens on the roof, and what drove it away, according to the stories, was the sign of the cross the old woman drew on the ground.

With my active imagination, I agreed that we should keep the doors closed every time.

The next night, I asked my aunt about the stories. She did not confirm or deny it, but reminded us to bring garlic cloves with us if we had to go outside at night.

She also told me another neighbor’s story regarding the “taong ibon.” This other neighbor, at the time pregnant and whose house was two blocks away from my aunt’s home, said that she frequently heard “flapping” sounds outside her house. At first she thought they were chickens flapping around at night—until she went near the window and saw the shadow of what was making the noise: the "taong ibon."

Although I did not see it myself, the stories brought fear to me as a child. There is something about living in a province that didn’t make stories seem that impossible. — BM, GMA News