By Roanne Grace F. Quilingan

Every Filipino has that story whispered during brownouts, sleepovers, or long road trips through the province.

Welcome to the chilling world of Pinoy horror stories, a mix of myth, mystery, and memories that refuse to die. Whether passed down from grandparents or retold through viral TikTok threads, these tales remain the backbone of our collective fears.

These are the stories that haunt the Philippines, the favorites we keep retelling when the lights go out.

1. The White Lady of Balete Drive

If you ever find yourself driving down Balete Drive in Quezon City past midnight, whatever you do, don’t look in your rearview mirror.

They say she appears there: a pale woman in a long white gown, her hair cascading over her face, her presence ice-cold and still. Some claim she was a victim of a brutal accident. Others whisper of murder, her body never found.

Taxi drivers tell stories of passengers who vanished mid-ride, leaving only the faint scent of perfume and a chill that clings to the skin. Whatever the truth is, no one drives down Balete Drive alone anymore.

2. The Aswang and the Manananggal

Long before Hollywood gave us vampires, the Philippines already had its own nightmares.

The aswang, a shape-shifting predator that feeds on human flesh. And her terrifying kin, the manananggal, a woman who splits her body in half, her upper torso sprouting wings as she hunts for the blood of the unborn.

People in rural towns still hang garlic, salt, and blessed palm leaves by their windows, not for tradition — but for protection.

3. The Kapre of the Old Balete Tree

In every province, there’s that one tree no one dares to touch. Usually a balete, ancient and wide, its roots like frozen serpents gripping the soil.

Locals say if you smell cigar smoke at dusk or see glowing red embers floating high among the leaves, that’s where the kapre sits. A towering giant covered in hair, he smokes in silence and watches travelers pass. Some believe he’s harmless. But those who mock him, urinate or cut his tree without permission, vanish into the woods and are never seen again.

4. The Tikbalang’s Wicked Pranks

It starts with the fog rolling in; the path disappears, and your steps sound like they are going in circles. You’ve been walking for hours, yet you’re standing at the same spot.

The elders say it’s the tikbalang, a creature with the head of a horse and the body of a man, leading you astray for his own amusement.

If you wish to escape, turn your shirt inside out or ask for permission to pass. Some say the creature can even be tamed by pulling a golden strand from its mane, though no one has ever lived to prove it.

5. Maria Labo – The Mother Who Turned Monster

There are monsters born from the dark — and others, from heartbreak.

Maria Labo was once a loving wife and mother, but something inside of her changed when she returned from working abroad. Her husband came home one night to the smell of cooking meat. A dish lay on the table, and when he looked closer, he realized what she had done.

Maria screamed, her face twisting, her skin splitting. And she ran into the night, half-woman, half-aswang, doomed to always wander, crying for the child she devoured.

6. The Haunted Houses of Baguio

The cold air of Baguio City carries more than mist — it carries memories of the dead.

At the Laperal White House, an elegant ancestral home, visitors claim to see a little girl staring from the windows. And at the abandoned Diplomat Hotel, built atop a hill, people hear prayers whispered through the walls — the echoes of monks beheaded during the war.

Even the bravest tourists admit: no “selfie” feels safe inside those walls.

7. The Snake-Man of Robinsons Galleria

In the 1990s, Manila buzzed with one of its most bizarre legends — a half-human, half-snake creature secretly living beneath Robinsons Galleria.

They said he was the twin of the mall owner, hidden from the world, feeding on women who tried on clothes alone, vanishing through trapdoors that led to underground chambers. The rumor grew so massive that the mall’s owners were forced to deny it publicly.

Filipino horror endures because it reflects who we are, people who respect the unseen, who live between faith and folklore.

We tell these stories not just to scare, but to remember: that the world around us is alive, that every old tree, every shadow, every sudden chill carries a whisper from the other side.

Photo by Stefano Pollio on Unsplash

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