IT’S that time of the year again when the telling and retelling of horror stories quite abound.
Of course, Cagayan de Oro City has its share of the supernatural or the unexplainable. We have several noted haunted houses, schools, buildings, and cemeteries in the city and every single Kagay-anon probably has had at least one encounter with the things that go bumping in the night. Here are some stories that were personally shared to the writer.
THE MISSED CALL
Cristina, not her real name as she requested anonymity, volunteered to be left alone in their house in Carmen while her entire family went to visit their dead at Divine Shepherd. It was All Souls Day and they couldn’t just all go for fear of burglars and other opportunistic hooligans. Nobody else wanted to volunteer to watch over their place alone as it was rumored to be haunted and because it was that time of year when spirits are said to roam free. Cristina saw herself as one tough cookie and so she readily stepped up for the job.
The house is quite and has been standing for more than 35 years already. The family has had several creepy experiences in the past, of things moving on their own when nobody was around, of weird sounds and phantom footsteps from the second floor, and of feeling a presence nearby sometimes. In fact, several visitors claim to feel a bit ‘heavy’ when visiting and their own labandera even refuses to enter the house. Cristina doesn’t really mind the stories although she admits to sometimes feeling as if someone is watching even if she knows that nobody else is around.
After her family left, she got herself a snack and settled in front of their TV in the living room to binge-watch her favorite series. Several hours into her series marathon, she heard her company, left in her room on the second floor, ring. “I ignored the call. I mean, it was a holiday and I knew for a fact that there was no emergency at the office,” Cristina said.
So, she continued with her marathon. After a while, she went up to her room to check on the phone. She got the shock of her life when she saw the number listed on the recent missed calls. It was the company cell phone calling itself.
“I just stared at it for some time then I checked again. But still, no change. The phone called itself. I mean, that’s not even possible, right?”
In a daze with mounting fear, she went back to their living room and tried focusing on what she was watching, praying that her family would return soon. “I couldn’t tell the family at first, kasi hadlukan kaayo sila.”
THE HAUNTED MULTICAB AND THE FOOTSTEPS IN THE WATER
Fifty-eight-year-old Jocelyn Salvo, born and raised in the city, has been living her whole life in Tambo, Macasandig. During Typhoon Sendong, her entire two-story house was submerged in water. She and her family had to climb to the roof of their neighbor’s house, which was just slightly higher than her own, to escape the rushing floodwaters.
They, and several other families in their area, were stuck there for almost 12 hours before it was safe enough to come down. Some of her neighbors, however, weren’t so lucky.
It was indeed a immense tragedy for her, having lost not only material possession but also a sister-in-law and several good friends in the neighborhood. But, like most Filipinos, Jocelyn is made of sterner stuff. The resilient grandmother picked herself up, literally wrung out the floodwater from her clothes, and started rebuilding the things that were destroyed by the calamity.
Two days after Sendong struck, she and her family went back to their house to start cleaning and salvaging the things that can still be of used. Their house was pretty banged up; the backyard was even still submerged in knee-deep water at some parts. They’d work from sunup to sundown, returning to the evacuation center each night to rest. They did this until their house was again habitable and they could return to it.
She shared how, when one night they were not able to return and had to campout in their still damaged house, she and her family heard footfalls from their backyard.
It was like several people were walking in the wet and muddy yard, she recounts, and that they can hear the sound of swishing water, as if being disturbed by a leg or a foot.
“Kanang among luyo, kay ubos man, naa pa jud tubig. Nabati jud namo nga naay naglasak-lasak sa among likod, kana bitaw sound kung naay mutunob sa tubig,” said Jocelyn, “Pero inig tan-awon namo, walay tao sa among likod.”
She also shared how a multicab, owned by a neighbor who perished during the flood, would start up all of a sudden, even if there were no one around to turn the ignition on.
“Kada na gani mag-ilog ang kahayag ug kangitngit, muandar lang ug kalit ang multicab. Kana pa jud andar nga murag suko bitaw. Bisan naa na mi, naa nay tao magtan-aw, mag obserbar, muandar jud siya.”
What’s even more perplexing is the fact that the multicab was submerged during the flood and that it would still turn on even without the battery attached.
“Before Sendong, wala man mi naka-experience ug mga ingon ato sa una, after ra man sa Sendong. Pero pagkahuman to ni labay ang procession diri samo padulong sa misa sa Cala-cala, na undang man pod ang mga gaparamdam. Siguro kay wala pa nahimutang ilang mga kalag kay wala pa sila nakaandam, mao naay mga ingon ato na gakahitabo diri sa amo. Karon wala na man pod,” she added.
CEMETERY TALES
Randolph Fuentes, the acting supervisor of the City Memorial Park in Bolonsori, Camaman-an, said that since 1982 there are more or less 50,000 of the city’s departed buried in the cemetery.
“Puno-puno jud diri, magpi-ot jud labi na pag November 1 ug November 2,” Fuentes said.
With that many dead people buried in one place, it is no wonder that Bolonsori is the setting for some of the scariest ghost stories. He said that although he himself has no personal experience, his fellow caretakers have shared with him their own goosebump tales of phantom footsteps, long shadows where there shouldn’t be any, and inanimate object moving or falling on their own.
“Kami ang gipabantay diri sa kung asa gadagkot ug kandila diri sa likod sa simbahan,” shared Bakang Hamlang, “Atong October 29, mga 10 sa gabii, imbes hapit na mi mahuman diri ug taod sa estalar, sa among stand diri, naa mi’y na dungan dira sa sulod sa opisina.”
The Administrative Office of the cemetery is located just beside the cemetery chapel, and he said that they heard footsteps inside the office, “Murag naay tao sa sulod. Pirmero, murag naay galakaw-lakaw, ikaduha dayun, naa nay gatingog sa mga lamesa,” until he said that it sounded as if there were people in the office working when they knew for sure that there was nobody inside. Drawers were being pulled open, papers being shuffled, and chairs being dragged across the floor, “Grabe nako ka kulba-an bisag taga diri na gani mi. Tinu-od jud diay ilang mga ginasulti na naa jud gatiaw.”
“Taga diri jud mi sa Bolonsori. 10 years na mi diri, dira sa ibabaw sa sementeryo among balay,” said Emily Dosol, 40 years old, adding, “Kanang magsalod mi sa gripo dira sa tapad sa chapel, mga ala-una, alas dos sa kadlawon, usahay naa mi makit-an, usahay gapanawag sila, musitsit.”
She shared how one time, she and two of her neighbors saw an entire family, a father, a mother, and their child, all dressed in white, came out of the chapel and floated toward the entrance of the cemetery.
“Naka puti silang tulo ug abi namo naglakaw sila, pero pag tan-awon namo ang ilang ubos, wala diay sila galakaw, naglutaw sila sa hangin. Amo lang pod sila gilantaw, wala na mi kalihok kay syempre, nakuyawan pod mi.”
She also shared how, sometimes, the cries of the unclaimed Sendong victims buried behind the church would echo all over the cemetery, “Maglanog-lanog ilang mga hilak, naa pod mangayo ug tabang.”
This, coupled with the howls of the neighborhood dogs, would terrify anybody but she said that they’re used to it already, “Anad na man mi, gapangumpra man gihapon ko ug kadlawon. Mu-agi jud ko dira sa tunga sa sementeryo pero mao lagi, usahay naay manitsit, mu-ingon pa jud ug ‘hoy!’”