Once upon a time, in a small village surrounded by dense forests, there lived a boy named Joseph. Joseph had a curious mind and loved to explore, even when everyone told him not to. His friends always warned him about the stories of the kapre, a giant creature that lived in the trees, smoking cigars and waiting to snatch anyone who came too close.
One evening, Joseph’s friends were talking about the kapre again. “Don’t go near the forest at night,” one of them said. “The kapre will get you!” But Joseph just laughed. “There’s no such thing as a kapre,” he said, feeling brave. “It’s just a story to scare us.”
His friends begged him not to go, but Joseph was determined to prove them wrong. That night, after everyone had gone to sleep, Joseph grabbed a flashlight and sneaked out of his house. He made his way into the forest, the trees casting dark shadows around him. The air was thick with the smell of earth and leaves, and every sound made his heart race.
He walked deeper into the forest, his footsteps crunching on the dry leaves. As he got further in, he noticed the faint smell of cigar smoke. It grew stronger with every step, and he began to hear a low, rumbling sound. Joseph’s courage started to fade, but he didn’t want to turn back yet. He kept walking, hoping to find some proof that there was nothing to be afraid of.
Then, he saw it. High up in the trees, a pair of glowing red eyes stared down at him. The eyes blinked, and a deep, growling voice spoke, “Who dares to enter my forest?”
Joseph’s legs froze. He wanted to run, but he couldn’t move. The kapre climbed down from the tree, its massive form blocking the moonlight. It was tall, with dark, leathery skin, and it had a thick cigar clenched between its teeth. The kapre’s eyes glowed brighter as it reached out a hand the size of a tree branch to grab Joseph.
In that moment, Joseph remembered something his grandmother had told him when he was a child: “Kapres are afraid of calamansi,” she had said. “Always carry one with you when you’re near the forest.” Joseph quickly dug into his pocket and found a small calamansi fruit his grandmother had given him. He squeezed it, and the juice squirted out, spraying the kapre’s hand.
The kapre howled in pain, dropping the cigar and recoiling from the sour juice. Joseph didn’t waste a second. He turned and ran as fast as he could, never looking back. The kapre’s growls echoed through the forest, but Joseph kept running until he was safely back in the village.
From that night on, Joseph never ventured into the forest again. He listened to his friends and stayed away from the stories of the kapre. And he always carried a calamansi in his pocket, just in case. The forest remained dark and eerie, but Joseph knew he was lucky to have escaped. He never forgot his grandmother’s advice and lived to tell the tale of the night he met the kapre. The memory of the creature’s haunting gaze would stay with him forever, a reminder of the darkness that lurks in the shadows.
