CLEANERS

Chapter 4: The sweeper

The rain did not stop. It drowned the forest in its endless curtain, washing mud over the corpses that littered the clearing. The twins, breathless and battered, leaned against each other in the trembling silence that followed the carnage. Their hearts pounded as if their ribs would shatter.

And then he came.

A man stepped from between the trees, untouched by the storm. His shirt, pressed and immaculate, looked impossibly clean in this nightmare. He did not belong here, not in the filth, not among the broken bodies of monsters. Yet the moment his polished shoes touched the mud, the air itself shifted.

The Aswang pack froze.

They sniffed the air, claws twitching, eyes burning red through the sheets of rain. And then one of them hissed in raw fear, the guttural words tearing from its throat:

“A sweeper is here!?”

Panic rippled through the group. The monsters that only minutes ago had chased and butchered with animalistic hunger now looked unsettled, even afraid. The twins felt it too. The man’s presence was heavier than the storm, more suffocating than the reek of blood.

Marden gripped Denmar’s wrist. “What… what’s happening?”

Denmar could only shake his head, throat tight.

The Aswang screamed. Their bodies convulsed violently, bones snapping under their skin as they gave in to full transformation. Their flesh tore and writhed, reshaping into horrors that made the boys’ stomachs turn.

Hands split apart, fingers tearing as jagged claws pushed through.

Forearms cracked open, white bone blades jutting outward like swords forged of marrow.

Spines snapped and twisted; from hunched backs ripped vast, leathery wings slick with rain, flapping once before spreading wide over the clearing.

Muzzles stretched forward, fangs elongating until their mouths no longer resembled anything human. Drool, thick and black, dripped from their jaws and sizzled when it hit the earth.

They did not wait for a signal. They lunged.

---

The man did not flinch.

That was the first thing the twins noticed his stillness, his calm. He moved only when the first beast was within striking distance, and then the world blurred.

He was not just fast he was beyond sight.

A winged Aswang swooped, claws out. Jose’s hand rose almost lazily then slammed into its chest, folding bone and hurling the creature into the mud.

Another lunged, blade-arm swinging. He ducked, pivoted, and smashed his elbow into its jaw. Bone shattered. Two fingers drove into its eyes, cracking the skull before it could scream.

The twins gasped. Marden’s knees trembled, yet he couldn’t look away.

he moved like a man who had killed a hundred times precise, unhurried, as if he already knew their attacks. A beast swiped; he caught its arm, twisted, and tore it free in a spray of gore. The severed limb became his weapon, plunged into its throat.

Wings cut through the rain as another swooped low. he leapt, caught the wing mid-swing, and snapped it clean in half. The Aswang spiraled into the mud, shrieking..

The twins could hardly breathe.

Every strike, every movement was surgical. As if the man was less a fighter and more an executioner. The gore painted the clearing, but Jose’s shirt remained spotless, the rain washing away every trace before it touched him.

One by one, the pack fell. Bones broken, hearts pierced, heads crushed into the earth.

Only one remained untouched.

The man in the immaculate suit. His hair slicked neatly back, his gloves unblemished. Unlike the beasts, he had not dirtied himself with transformation. He stood at the edge of the slaughter, watching with calm disdain, as though the deaths of his comrades were an inconvenience.

When the man finally turned toward him, his lips curled.

“This is not the last time we meet,” the clean one said, voice smooth as silk. “I don’t want to get dirty.”

And just like that, he stepped back into the trees.

Gone.

---

Marden’s rage exploded.

“Why..why the hell did you let him escape!?” His voice cracked, raw with fury. He took a step toward Jose, fists clenched though his arms trembled. “He was right there! You could’ve ended it!”

Denmar grabbed his brother’s shoulder, pulling him back. “Marden, stop.”

But Marden wasn’t done. His eyes burned red with grief. “He’ll kill again! He’ll come back! And you just… let him go!”

His expression did not change. He merely looked at the twins with quiet patience, letting Marden’s rage wash over him. When the boy finally fell silent, chest heaving, Jose spoke with a calm that cut deeper than any blade.

“I let him go because I chose to.”

The words stung.

Denmar stepped forward, voice quieter. “Still… thank you. For saving us.”

The man inclined his head, as though accepting a small courtesy. “It was surprising you survived this long. You fought when you should have already been dead. That deserves respect.”

Marden scoffed, bitter. “Respect? I'm nothing. Denmar’s the smart one, who made the traps and planned all of this, I’m just.. useless.”

The man turned his eyes to him, sharp and unyielding. “Don’t insult yourself. Precision like yours is rare. Even without training, you move like a warrior. You strike where it matters.”

Denmar put a hand on his brother’s arm. “He’s right. You’re not useless. Not to me.”

Marden bit his lip, fighting the weight in his chest, but said nothing.

---

The rain softened, but the darkness in the clearing only deepened.

The man finally spoke again. “ People called me mang Jose. I'm a sweeper from the cleaners organization. We are the ones who hunt these things. Monsters you call Aswang. But make no mistake, they are not just wild beasts. They are organized. Disciplined. And they have leaders.”

He looked toward the trees where the neat-suited figure had vanished.

“You’ve heard of her, I think. The Smiling Woman.”

Both boys stiffened.

“She keeps order in their kind. Sends her executioners to make chaos and order to bring food. That one you saw escape, he was no ordinary Aswang. He was her hand.”

"Then why our family!?"

"Most Aswang organizations'victims are far from cities so few people can notice, specially the poor ones"

Denmar clenched his fists. “So… our family died… because of her? Just because she's hungry...so it was just a pure unlucky event and pick my family?”

Jose’s silence was enough.

Marden’s scream tore through the rain. “Why us?! Why our family!?” His voice broke, raw and jagged. Tears mixed with the rain on his cheeks. He dropped to his knees, striking the mud with both fists until they bled. “It’s not fair! It’s not fair!”

Jose crouched before them, his voice quieter now, heavy with something that almost sounded like pity.

“Life doesn’t care about fairness. It was random. Cruel. Unlucky. And it will happen again to others if no one fights back.”

Denmar’s jaw trembled. “Then we’ll fight. We’ll kill every last one of them.”

Jose’s eyes narrowed. “Revenge burns fast. It will kill you before they do. But survival… survival takes discipline. If you choose this path, you will not have peace again.”

The boys stared at him in silence.

Finally, Jose stood. “That man you saw escape. He saw you too. That makes you targets. You will not live a week if you stay here.”

Denmar swallowed hard. “Then what do we do?”

“Pack your things. Someone from my work will come and get you. I can’t stay. I’ve been assigned to another village kilometers away.”

Marden stood abruptly, eyes blazing. “That’s it? You save us, then just leave us!?”

Jose’s gaze was unwavering. “I gave you time. That’s all I can give. What you do with it is yours to decide.”

He turned, stepping back into the forest. His clean figure was swallowed by the rain and shadow, until only his voice lingered:

“If you choose to fight, you must know, this war has no mercy. And the Smiling Woman will not stop until the evidence has not clean yet and those are you.”

And then he was gone.

The twins stood in the silence, the corpses of monsters cooling around them, the rain unending. Their breaths shook. Their hearts broke.

But in the darkness, something else burned fragile, flickering, but alive.

Resolve.