Chapter 2: Room 110 and Room 114

Silay parked in the hospital lot, the weight of exhaustion settling in his limbs. He had already performed basic first aid on the unknown man, no major injuries, stable vitals. Nothing critical. Still, the strangeness of it clung to him.

After the hour-long drive, hospital staff greeted him immediately. A stretcher stood ready, just as he’d requested in his call ahead.

“Vitals steady,” Silay informed as they carefully transferred the man onto the stretcher. “No visible trauma. Monitor neurological response and hydration levels first.”

The medics nodded, efficiently wheeling the patient away. Silay watched in silence until the figure disappeared down the corridor.

Then he glanced back at his car.

Perfect. Everything’s soaked.

He closed the door. Thinking back to what just happened.

Earlier, he checked for any ID, a phone, even a wallet. Nothing. The man had only the drenched clothes on his back. They’d have to run a biometric scan or check the missing persons database. If that came up empty, well—identity issues were a legal nightmare.

Not his department, technically. But he felt responsible.

After a moment, Silay headed to his office, freshened up, and changed into clean scrubs. He emerged minutes later in full hospital demeanor, greeting colleagues, nodding at nurses, and exchanging warm smiles with passing patients.

The sterile hallway lights caught the edges of his sharp features as he turned into a quieter wing of the hospital.

Room 110 was just ahead.

He knocked when he arrived.

No response.

Through the glass window, he saw Lirika Luan fast asleep.

He tilted his head slightly, debating whether to return later or run a few preliminary observations. This was, after all, a newly transferred patient under his care.

He chose the latter.

Silay turned the knob gently and slipped inside.

According to the referral, Lirika had been asleep for two days. Yet previous records showed a strange pattern: she would wake after abnormal sleep as if nothing had happened—lucid, responsive, as though emerging from a routine nap.

Her lower limb paralysis had a history too. There were instances in early childhood when she managed short walks. But as she aged, her muscles weakened further. A clear sign it had been present from birth.

And yet, despite these symptoms, something didn’t quite sit right.

The former physician, Dr. Itel Bustamante, had written an odd note: the Luan family had refrained from hospitalizing Lirika until now. No ER visits, no consults. Just home care.

Maybe they assumed since it was congenital, it’s irreversible. That treatment would be futile. And now, with her condition worsening, they’d finally caved in.

Silay’s eyes flicked to the monitor, stable vitals.

Then, to her sleeping face.

For a moment, something cold passed over his skin.

Goosebumps crawled up his arms.

Certain faces overlapped with hers, someone Silay didn’t even know. Then his dreams mixed with the scene. He covered his mouth, stepping back a little.

“You look sicker than me.”

Silay jolted.

Lirika was awake. Her eyes, black and unblinking, looked innocent, yet carried an unsettling depth, like someone who knew too much for her age. Suddenly, Itel’s vague notes made sense. At a glance, she looked like any ordinary teenager.

He laughed softly, brushing off his surprise. “Sorry, Lirika. You caught me off guard. How are you feeling? Any discomfort?”

She sat up, hair slipping over one shoulder. It was long, dark brown with a reddish tint. Silay couldn’t tell if it was dyed or just catching the light. She didn’t answer his question. Instead:

“Are you my new doctor?”

“Yes, I am,” he replied with a calm smile.

“When it comes to discomfort… I think you’re suffering more.”

Silay’s mouth twitched. That hadn’t been in Itel’s report. No mention of cheekiness. Before he could respond, Lirika reached out her hand, hovering it near his shoulder. They weren’t close enough to touch, yet she seemed to be aiming at something.

“What are you doing?” he asked cautiously.

“Driving away the Engkantos you’ve disturbed.”

The room light flickered.

Then, she lowered her hand.

“There. Feeling a bit better?”

Silay blinked. “What?”

“You can’t see them, huh…” she murmured, more to herself than him. “But they’re extremely drawn to you.”

She met his eyes again. “Tell me, did you almost die today?”

He was stunned into silence.

…Who was the doctor, and who was the patient again?

“I’m surprised you're alive, Doctor.”

* * *

Silay exited the room, quietly pulling the door shut behind him. The smile he’d kept on for appearances twitched slightly, his brows furrowing.

Where the hell is Itel, that little…

A nurse walked past, and he called out, “Excuse me, where’s Dr. Itel?”

The nurse paused, thinking. “Ah! She’s in the rehabilitation wing. Working with patients relearning to walk.”

“Thanks.”

Silay took off with brisk steps down the corridor. By the time he reached the rehab area, Dr. Itel had just stepped out of a room. They locked eyes.

Itel immediately averted her gaze and turned on her heel, trying to walk away but Silay caught her by the collar and dragged her back without hesitation.

“So, it’s not because you didn’t know how to handle Lirika, or that she needed a different specialist like they told me,” Silay said, still smiling but his tone was sharp. “It’s because of how she talks, isn’t it?”

Itel turned to him shakily. “I—I mean, you don’t believe in that stuff, right? Unlike me. Ghosts, spirits, anything unseen, I’m scared of them so bad I could just... lose it. So please, please, please… handle Lirika for me, Dr. Silay! Hah... haha... ahahahah…”

Silay sighed, exasperated. “She’s a child, Itel. And you’re scared of her?”

“I’m not scared of her!” Itel whispered harshly, eyes darting. “I’m scared of what she’s seeing.”

She swallowed hard.

“Have mercy on my soul…”

Silay let go of her collar with a sigh. He gave a tired wave as he shook his head. “You’re treating me to dinner.”

“Yes! Okay!” Itel bowed repeatedly before dashing off.

Silay crossed his arms, exhaling.

It wasn’t rare to encounter patients who believed in the supernatural. And it definitely wasn’t rare to meet those who didn’t give a damn about it, like Silay Manawari.

Still, he needed to speak to Lirika again and run further tests before she fell back asleep. Hm. He also had to get a few more copies of her brain scans, see how Itel came to the conclusion that the paralysis was neurological in origin.

Just as he turned to go back, his phone buzzed, loud in the quiet corridor. He flinched.

Why am I so jumpy today…

Unlocking the screen, he answered, “Yes?”

“Dr. Manawari? The patient you brought in earlier, he has no records in our hospital or any of the nearby networks. Where exactly did you find him?”

Silay pinched the bridge of his nose. “It was around Silang, Cavite. I didn’t want to leave him at a local clinic, I was worried.”

“You really went out of your way,” the voice on the other end replied. “We’ll reach out to hospitals in that area and see if anything turns up.”

“Thanks. Which room is he in again?”

“Room 114.”

Not far from Lirika… huh.

“But Doctor,” the voice followed up, “that patient of yours won’t speak, not even a word. That’s why we’re having trouble identifying him.”

* * *

Room 114. Another patient.

The man Silay found unconscious was now in a hospital gown, seated quietly by the window. His gaze was fixed outside. On the dark clouds and the distant trees, far beyond the city.

Silay entered and closed the door behind him. “Hello there. I’m Silay. I was the one who saw you collapse near the mountain’s base.” He paused. “We’re in Manila now. Sorry for dragging you so far.”

He moved to stand beside the bed. “I heard you didn’t want to talk to the staff,” he added with a light chuckle. “They can be… persistent, huh?”

Silence.

The man didn’t even glance at him. He just kept staring out the window.

“Uhm… sir?”

Silay resisted the urge to scratch his head.

Oh, well.

He continued talking, “After a few tests, and if nothing serious comes up, you’ll be discharged immediately.” Still no reaction. “Before that, though, we need to know your name and age, at least. Oh—and since I dragged you all the way here, I’ll drive you back to Cavite. Would that be all right?”

The man suddenly shifted, turning to face him.

Silay felt his soul jolt. Their eyes met.

When he picked this man up, drenched from the rain, he hadn’t paid much attention beyond checking for vital signs. But now, those eyes… pale with faint gold flecks, looking almost sleepy.

He looks like he’s wearing contact lenses, Silay thought. But there were no signs of irritation. That was just his natural eye color?

Since he finally got a reaction, Silay went on, “I know we just met, but I’m curious. Why were you standing there? It was dangerous. If another car was speeding past, you’d have been seriously injured.”

Maybe he was just rambling. But it beat standing there in silence. And this was a grown man, no need to tiptoe around.

He repeated, “Why were you there, all drenched like that?”

That mountain only had a few scattered barangays at the base, and around the upper area… only his Old Man’s house.

And judging by the man’s earlier clothes, he hadn’t come from any rural area. His style leaned more towards city vibes than countryside.

Silay glanced at his own hand, remembering the moment he nearly hit the man. How close it came to taking a life if his brakes hadn’t worked.

Then, the man finally spoke.

 “The forest told me you would die if I didn’t appear at that second.”

Oh. So he does talk.

Silay was celebrating internally… until the words actually registered. Then Lirika’s voice echoed in his head:

「Tell me, did you almost die today?」

He pushed it aside.

“The forest?” he echoed, carefully. Silay didn’t dismiss patients’ beliefs, even if it doesn’t scientifically make sense—especially if it helped them open up. He usually goes along with it, even though sometimes they are outright lying. “Thank you, then. I think there’s a label for this… Burnt Toast Theory, maybe? Something like that.”

The man said nothing.

Silay offered him a smile and reached for the clipboard he’d placed nearby. “Could you tell me your name and age now?”

“Suliyao.”

“Hm. How do you spell that?”

“Suli, as in ‘to give back.’ Yao, as in ‘to depart.’ That’s the spelling.”

“You’ve got a unique name,” Silay commented, looking up. “Surname?”

“Laya.”

As in free?

Silay jotted it down, noting that he pronounced it “La-yah,” with a soft finish.

“This is the first time I’ve met someone like me,” Silay said with a soft laugh, this time genuine. “Most people around here have an English first name and a Spanish surname. Well, the hospital will assign you another physician if any issues show up in your tests, but if not, you’re free to go.”

“I thought you were giving me a ride.”

Silay froze, halfway to the door.

Right, this man didn’t have a phone, wallet, or even an ID.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-six. On paper.”

“Please use the hospital phone to contact any relatives—”

“You offered a ride.”

Silay: “...”

I only said that so you'd talk! Have some shame! We don’t even know each other!

He wanted to yell that. But instead, he just smiled and stepped out.

And you know what else disturbed him?

Silay just realized…

He’d been hearing Suliyao’s voice all this time…

But the man hadn’t moved his lips even once.

Author’s Note:

Engkanto - Mysterious, magical beings of the otherworld (Non-human but powerful).

The following Prologue and Chapter 1-5 will be available in advance. This series will officially start updating after the "To Not Die in Vain's" final editing finishes. If this story has taken your interest, please drop a like and subscribe so that you will be notified once it starts regularly updating. The offical schedule for updating is stilll undecided. I ask for you patience, thank you!