Aswang

By day, I'm your neighbor, the quiet person who keeps odd hours, never eats at communal meals, avoids garlic. By night, I transform. My favorite form is a large bird or bat, but I can become dogs, pigs, cats—whatever suits my hunting needs. My preferred prey is unborn children.

I land on the roof of houses where pregnant women sleep, my tongue extending through small gaps, reaching impossibly far to penetrate their wombs and suck out the fetus. It's horrifying, but it's what I crave. I also feed on sick people—their weakened state makes them easy targets. Corpses are acceptable when fresh meat isn't available.

I attend wakes to secretly feed on the deceased. My shapeshifting is perfect enough to fool everyone, but there are tells: my eyes reflect light like an animal's, I walk with feet reversed when transformed, I avoid blessed objects and garlic. Communities protect pregnant women with garlic, salt, and blessed items placed around homes. They watch for people who fit the profile: live alone, avoid communal meals, have those reversed feet.

Finding an aswang is one thing; killing me is harder. I'm resilient, strong, and cunning. But silver, blessed weapons, and decapitation work. Some say I'm actually multiple types of creatures grouped under one name.

Others maintain aswang is a specific species of shapeshifting predator. Either way, I'm the nightmare that makes Philippine mothers protect their pregnancies with supernatural vigilance.