Halos madapa ako paglabas ng convenience store. The neon lights of España blurred into streaks of angry red.

Sumuka ako sa gilid ng isang poste. But it wasn't food. It was thick, black tar. Sludge. Sin residues. Ramdam ko ang pag-ikot ng sikmura ko, para bang may buhay na bagay na gustong kumawala sa loob.

"Fuck," I cursed, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. The tar burned my skin.

Suddenly, a flash of memory that wasn't mine hit me. A face. A woman begging. The sound of bones snapping. Napahawak ako sa dibdib ko. The murderer's guilt was rejecting my system. Masyadong sariwa. Masyadong marahas.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Unknown number. Pero alam ko kung sino.

"Solomon," the voice on the other line was calm. Too calm. It was Vicar. "Why is your heart rate spiking? Did you eat something spoiled?"

"Ayos lang ako," I lied, leaning against the cold concrete wall. "Medyo... maanghang lang yung nakain ko."

"Don't lie to the organization, boy. If you turn into a monster right there on the streets of Manila, I will have to put you down myself."

Binabaan ko siya ng telepono. Another wave of pain. I saw the woman again. Standing across the street. Looking at me. Watching me with dead eyes.

I didn't just eat his sin. I ate his victim's ghost. And now, she wants out.