In the 1980s in Kalubihan, Talamban, Cebu, the night had its own voice—a gentle wind through the coconut trees, the occasional bark of a dog, and sounds that seemed not meant for the living.
An Unexpected Encounter
Fermin, a working student living in the house of the Atty. Valdez family, was accustomed to the silence of the night. After his chores and studies, he would often pass by the back, near the garbage disposal area, to throw away the remaining kitchen waste.
But one night, exactly at ten o'clock, he heard a different sound. "Ag... uuu... aguu..." It sounded like a wounded person. He stopped. His hand, holding a carton full of garbage, trembled. "Maybe it's a hit dog," he thought, but the sound was truly different.
He approached the area. In the moonlight, he saw a person lying down, covered in blood. "Hey!" shouted Fermin, somewhat startled. "Who are you? Why are you here?" The man replied, his breathing weak and heavy. "I am... Felimon... Brother... I am not a bad person..."
Fermin approached, afraid. "Why are you in this place and in this condition? Who did this to you?" "People... people without conscience... they threw me here... like garbage..." Fermin noticed a wound on his back—near the lower shoulder—a mark tattooed with BC45.
The Mark of BC45
"What is that on your back, Brother?" he asked. Felimon grinned despite the pain. "That... is the reason they are after me..." "Why don't I take you to the hospital? You might die from this," Fermin offered his hand. "No!" Felimon answered loudly, even as he struggled. "Many are looking for me... if they find me... they will kill me again."
"But you are a victim, right?" Fermin inquired. Felimon looked into his eyes. "Yes, a victim... but I am not innocent, Brother." Fermin fell silent. "What do you mean?" "Brother... I have killed... many... especially those who abuse their power."
Fermin stepped back. "What do you mean? Are you a killer?" "I am not a killer without reason," Felimon replied. "Those I killed... people who harm others. Employers who oppress workers. Officials who abuse the poor."
A Debate on Justice
"But that is still a sin!" Fermin responded. "You are not the law!" "Then who is?" Felimon countered. "From what I have seen, Brother, the law is sometimes blind if not always. Justice... can be bought with money." Fermin smiled bitterly. "Not everyone. There are uniformed personnel who are upright. Police who truly serve." "True," Felimon nodded. "There are good ones. But many also use their uniform as a cover to do evil."
They fell silent for a moment, the night wind seeming to listen. "Why did you come back here?" Fermin asked. "Why here, to our garbage area?" "Because this is where we first met," Felimon replied softly. "Have you forgotten? BBRC... we were together there... when we were young."
Fermin was surprised. "So you are that Felimon? The boy who always fought but was kind inside?" "Yes, it's me," he replied, chuckling despite the pain. "But the world changed... and so did I."
A Chance for Redemption
"It's not too late," Fermin said. "You can still start over." "How?" Felimon replied. "When my name is already on the wanted list? When my past will still follow me?" "Even so," Fermin insisted, "a person can change. You don't have to return to the darkness."
Felimon stared at the moon. "Brother, do you know what is difficult? Knowing who your enemy is... and who your ally is." "What will you do now?" Fermin asked. "I will leave," he replied. "I cannot stay. It is very dangerous for you." "Let me help," Fermin said. "I will not let you die."
Felimon smiled, now more peaceful. "You are still Fermin... still kind. That is why I am still alive today." Suddenly, they heard the sound of a vehicle in the distance—like a patrol. "They are here," Felimon whispered. "I have to go now."
"Felimon!" Fermin shouted. "Where can I find you again?" Felimon turned before disappearing into the darkness. "When justice is real... that is where we will meet, Brother." And in a blink, he was gone—leaving Fermin alone by the garbage, staring at the blood that remained on the ground.
The Unanswered Question
The next night, Fermin returned to that place. But there was no sound. No shadow. But in his mind, the question remained: Was Felimon a victim... or a killer who carried his own justice? And every night at ten o'clock, Fermin would remain waiting—not for the man—but for the answer that perhaps he would never find.
