/x/ - Paranormal

Here's another quirky creature: Redcaps

Redcaps supposedly live in abandoned castles between England and Scotland, and always carry around spears wherever they go. If they spot travelers a Redcap will chase them down (without fail, as they're supernaturally fast) and brutally stab them to death. This is because redcaps need blood.

To dye their hats.

And blood dries into a dull brownish hue, so they pretty much always need more fresh blood to keep their hats a proper bright red.

They don't need to kill for any other reason, and they have no other use for the blood. They just really, really like their hats.

This one's more about the backstory than the creature itself: Sleipnir, the eight legged mount of Odin and mpreg child of Loki.

The origin behind this spider-horse is that, waaay back when all the Norse Gods were getting settled down and deciding their base of operations, some random dude offered to build the gods a mighty impenetrable wall in exchange for the sun, the moon, and the goddess of sex.

The Norse gods thought it over and accepted the deal; but with the stipulations that it had to be completed within three seasons and with the help with no other man (under the reasoning that the builder couldn't possibly pull off such a feat and they'd get to keep whatever he partially managed to build regardless). Loki did point out, though, that the builder could still be aided by the horse he brought with him.

The next time the gods checked in on this project, the wall's progress was incredibly ahead of schedule. The builder himself was doing average work for a mortal man, but his horse was a goddamn building monster. It apparently had the strength and stamina that could rival a god; never resting and carrying titanic boulders with no effort at all.

So the gods then realized that this horse was probably going to cost them the sun, moon, and a goddess.

This mysteriously godly horse.

This mysteriously godly horse that Loki personally vouched for.

Fucking Loki

The coin having finally dropped, the Norse gods collectively cornered Loki and essentially threatened to make him a meat-accordion if he didn't find a way to stop this shit that they just knew he was somehow responsible for.

Loki quickly came up with a plan. A plan straight out of a Bugs Bunny cartoon. What Loki did was turn himself into a sexy mare, get the attention of the horse, then bait the horse into chasing him into and around the surrounding woods until the deadline passed. This did contribute to stopping the deal from going through, but Loki himself apparently wasn't much of a runner because he came out of this pregnant with a freaky god-horse baby. After Loki gave birth to the abomination Odin took it for his personal steed, because it was legitimately a great horse and seriously fuck Loki.

I could dreg up bizarre legendary/paranormal shit for ages, but I'm not sure if anyone is really interested. Would you guys like it if I popped back in every couple of days with a new thing, or would that just be annoying?

>>14022

I love these things, pls tell more

>>14022

>I could dreg up bizarre legendary/paranormal shit

This and going to abandoned places are probably my favorite /x/ related topic.

Don't stop

>>14066

>>14070

Alright, good to hear.

This one is an example of how much a difference details can make in the long run: Pishtaco, Peruvian "vampires" which are after fat instead of blood.

A bit of cultural backstory may be needed for this one. In olden Peru fat was holy; the name of one of their most important gods could be directly translated into "Sea of Fat", most illnesses were associated with not having enough fat, and the absolute worst thing you could be is emaciated. So when conquistadors started showing up, with medical practices which involved treating their wounds with fat, the natives were freaked the fuck out.

The idea spread that these new people had "bad fat" in them, and that they had arrived to take the "good fat" out of natives. This ultimately lead to the concept of the Pishtaco.

Pishtaco are almost always white, male foreigners. Sometimes they have special ways to remove body fat from victims, but just as often they can be simply carrying big honking syringes or knives for the job. One particularly interesting trait of the Pishtaco is that they're unusually business savvy for monsters; often building lucrative businesses out of their secret murders and fat extracting. They have been known to set up shop as a local food vendor, so that they could make use of all the extra meat they have lying around after the fat has been sucked out. If they wound up with surpluses of fat they would establish overseas connections to sell it off to beauty pharmaceuticals or companies that used fat to lubricate machines. This means that Pishtaco are not only dangerous, but also clever, wealthy, and frighteningly well connected in the corporate worlds.

Naturally, this tends to lead to bad times when whitey tries to interact with more superstitious natives of the area. Besides the given witch hunts, food donations have been turned down (Pishtaco are trying to fatten us up for harvest) health programs have been terminated (Pishtaco doctors are measuring our body fat percentage to find the best targets) and missionaries/geologists/all those other professions who travel around and stick their noses in stuff have been chased off (goddamn Pistaco scouting parties).

Now I can't find any really good pictures of what a Pishtaco is supposed to look like, but with all the given details I believe I can instead provide a… cultural translation for what people who believed in Pishtaco thought they were and let you fill in any blanks on your own.

>>13943

>>13946

>>13961

"When the legend reappeared, the 1970s rumors of ways to escape also emerged. Some sources say she can also be confused by the victim answering her question with ambiguous answers, such as "You are average" or "So-so". Unsure of what to do, she will give a person enough time to escape while she is lost in thought."

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kuchisake-onna

>>13961

Up next is the Tanuki, a Japanese potato sack to your teabag.

Now there is a real animal dubbed Tanuki; but like the Europeans with snakes and the Native Americans with coyotes, the Japanese have stories involving rarer supernatural versions. The magical Tanuki is human sized, bipedal, and can easily talk with humans. While usually a little bit slow (and thus easily baffled), Tanuki are very fond of tricks and absolutely love messing with people via their magic shapeshifting/illusion powers. Their favorite tricks are to make useless trash like leaves appear like something valuable (just long enough to exchange them for something else then leave if feeling extra douchey), and to mock up their giant ballsacks to look like fearsome monsters to scare passerby with.

Oh yeah, about the balls. Tanuki have colossal, colossal balls.

Tanuki can club people to death with their ballsacks. There are paintings specifically about that. There is one story where a traveler entered a magnificent shrine in the middle of nowhere, only to find a single priest sitting in the middle of the floor. It turned out that the priest was a Tanuki in disguise, and the entire shrine was that Tanuki's ballsack in disguise. Tanuki sling their testicles over their shoulders, pile their possessions on top of them, and drag it all along like a cart as they walk. Tanuki have sumo matches where a third party allows his ballsack to be used as the ring. They're big, is what I'm getting at.

Although there are stories where Tanuki are bad news, most tales involving them nowadays tend to portray them as cheerful drunken slobs. They always have a slightly dazed smile, they're always portly, and they always have both a jug of alcohol and a personal list of bills that they never intend to pay.

Now Tanuki stories rarely make it across the sea, for fairly obvious reasons, they have had at least one prominent role in a rather popular game series. In the Animal Crossing vidyas, the primary merchant Tom Nook and all of his children are Tanuki (although the English versions merely call them raccoons). This is why furniture in those games compress into leaves when picked up. Remember what I said about Tanuki magic? About the shapeshifting? About how it's used on leaves? Deepest lore.

Up now is Baron Samedi, the life of your going away party.

Baron Samedi is a Haitian Loa. For those not familliar with Voodoo, the closest equivalent would probably be the concept of saint or angel servitor. They aren't quite gods, but are middlemen to the gods and can be directly worshiped/petitioned for favors based around their specialties.

Baron Samedi's specialty is death in general – harvesting and guiding souls a la the usual Grim Reaper gig – but he has other incarnations that also work with protection over the dead, brutal swiftness, and sexuality. This will seem like less of a grab-bag later on.

Samedi typically takes the form of a black man's corpse dressed in a black tuxedo, a top hat, black glasses (occasionally with the right lens broken so he can better watch people), plugs in his nostrils, and skeletal body paint. The corpse varies greatly in state, all the way from so fresh that only his attire gives it away (the suit and noseplugs are typical of Haitian burials) to straight up Mr. Bones. He's pretty much always seen with a cigar in his mouth and a glass of rum in one of his hands, although if he's working it would not be unlikely to also find him carrying a shovel or similar groundworking tool.

Unlike many grim-reaper-esque beings, the Baron is fairly well regarded among mortals and pretty sociable. It is noted that he can often get on the nerves of other Loa, due to his constant crude and obscenity-laden jokes. The Baron is also quite a skirt chaser – despite being married – and has a strange sort of vulgar charm about him. Many people request good events from the Baron specifically because of his death ties instead of in spite of them; He has control over voodoo curses (and thus can undo them), He triggers deaths by digging graves for specific people (thus one is safe from death as long as they can convince the Baron to put off that one job), and he is the one that causes bodies to decay (thus spoiling bodies for voodoo zombification/enslavement).

But beware, for gaining a favor from the Baron comes at a mighty price!

Cigars and booze.

No, seriously. Baron Samedi needs more cigars and booze. He always needs more cigars and booze. Offering them to him, either in huge quantities or with great quality, is one of the quickest and simplest ways to butter him up for negotiations.

Sure, for very heavy deals, he may also want permission to hijack and use a channeler's body for a little while, but this is actually a pretty common thing among the Loa. A notable peculiarity with possession by the Baron, though, is that the host completely blacks out and retains no memories or knowledge from the Baron's joyride. While most other Loa are alright with sharing the controls, the Samedi experience is essentially a spiritual roofie.

>>14269

tfw voodoo grim reaper would actually be a pretty cool guy to hang out with.

Up to bat now are the Tommyknockers, the eternal coal mine canaries.

Tommyknockers (or "Knockers" for short) are creatures that inhabit and watch over the workplaces of miners. Backstories are somewhat torn on whether they're lepechaun-like fey or the spirits of miners who have previously perished in cave-ins, but either version functions essentially the same.

When operations are going well, Knockers are a slight annoyance. If rations or tools are set down and left unwatched, Knockers are sure to nick them for themselves. This can be somewhat lessened by deliberately throwing whatever lunch you have not eaten by the end of the day down cave tunnels as you leave, but miners in general don't actually mind it all much. This is because the mild nuisance of Knockers during good times are an insignificant price for having them around when shit gets nasty.

You see, often when a mining tunnel is about to collapse there are a few warning signs; one of the most notable being a series of loud pops and/or snaps. Now it could be reasoned that these may be caused by supports beginning to break and dirt starting to shift, but superstitious miners believe that these "knocks" are warning signals from the Tommyknockers that the area is unsafe and it's time to haul ass. It is in this way that, even if Knockers themselves turned out to not be real, the spreading of the information regarding their "warnings" have saved many a miner's life.

But really, how far could the legends of Tommyknockers spread? Well, it turns out that miners, and their tales, are quite the travelers. Knockers were originally a UK concept –particularly amongst the Cornish and Welsh– until immigrants brought the legend over to Pennsylvania. And once the Gold Rush started proper, miners carried the stories over to California and spread it amongst all the varied people who ran in looking for that sweet, sweet bling. At this point it would be safe to assume that pretty much any miner worth his salt would know about the Knockers, or would very soon be sat down for a telling by coworkers.

Tommyknockers helped soothe the nerves of the constantly-strained mining communities, although it has created a few unique complications every now and again. Some gangs of miners have made it a personal rule to not work without the oversight of Tommyknockers, and thus would not enter new mines until the management personally assured them that Knockers were on-duty there. Mineowners would also find it in their best interests not to completely seal used-up shafts; as miners would become upset at the possibility of Tommyknockers being left behind/trapped, and pass around petitions amongst themselves for the boss to let them out. Owners usually caved (heh) to these petitions, because a little bit of inconvenience was worth keeping the workforce in better spirits. Such is the way of Knockers in general, I guess.

>>14269

So they didn't make grim Jamaican just to be funny

The Bannik is a creepy, hairy Slav who hangs out in your bathroom.

Next creature!

Alright, maybe there's a bit more to him than that. Traditional Slav bathhouses were (are?) closer to saunas than what usually comes to mind; large, communal rooms with tons of steam. These bathhouses were often considered very spiritually charged, as the steam made them ideal atmospheres for spooky divinations and it was the most common room used for birthings. This is probably why they are an ideal home for Banniks. Or maybe they just like to be wet and naked.

Having a Bannik in your bathhouse can range from annoying to potentially fatal, depending on how it's treated. Bannik can shapeshift, and quickly learn about every member of the family, so stories of people bathing with a family member in the bathhouse only to discover that said member was off somewhere else at the time are not too uncommon. Bannik are also just as lecherous as they look, so female family members are warned to keep an eye out for the creepy bugger finding ways to peep on them as they bathe. If a child is born in the bathhouse, it is wise to keep an eye on the child until relocation since Bannik will steal unbaptized newborns if given the chance. And finally it is recommended that people enter the bathhouse in groups; as the Bannik gets pissed if his own private bath time is interrupted, and it is very likely that he could overpower and murder a lone person when enraged.

There are ways to sate a Bannik, however. Bannik are offended by Christian imagery, so nothing of the sort should be displayed in your bathhouse if you wish to keep one pleased. Bannik appreciate people thanking them as they exit the bathhouse. Bannik have uses for fir branches, soap, and containers of water, and will enjoy any offerings of these left for them. And as already noted the Bannik cherishes his own personal bath time, so it is wise to set aside a specific timeframe just for his use of the steamroom.

But why would you want a pleased Bannik anyway? Well, Bannik can harness the spiritual energies of bathhouses to tell fortunes. If a young girl or woman sits in front of the bathhouse's front door with their backs exposed, the Bannik will reach out and touch them. A warm, loving touch foretells a good future, a cold, prickly touch foretells a troubled future, and a clawed raking foretells a fucking terrible present.

The Empusa is a bizarre, predatory creature which was originally considered a Greek demigoddes, but was later "discovered" to be an entire race. The original was the daughter of Hecate (goddess of crossroads) and Mormo (a Greek Boogeyman). The OG Empusa took after her father more than her mother, murdering young men undergoing sleep paralysis to feast on their flesh and blood.

Empusa as a species were unleashed as a plague upon mankind, but their modus operandi lent them to being a much larger threat to males. An Empusa would prowl around at night searching for potential prey. If a suitable victim is found, it would then shapeshift into the form of a beautiful woman and beckon for them to come closer. When the bait is taken, and the sap gets withing striking distance, the Empusa does away with her disguise and pounces on them for a good ol' game of rip-and-tear.

Empusa rely on this disguise, because nothing with half a brain would want to get near one without it. Empusa in their default form have flaming red hair (sometimes bright enough to be called "flaming", sometimes literal fire), blotchy skin, and no legs of their own. Instead, as replacements, Empusa have the leg of a goat for one and a brass prosthetic for the other.

If one believes that they are being stalked or tempted by an Empusa, there is a known method to frighten it off. Empusa are apparently very thin-skinned, so prolonged insulting or mocking of it causes the beast to run away screaming and weeping.

Although often compared to Lamia, Succubi, or Vampires, there is really no true modern equivalent to this deceptive, bright haired, man eating, easily offended predator of the weak willed with no actual legs of their own to stand o-

WAIT A SECOND

WAIT A GODDAMN SECOND

>>14485

The Hecatonchires are a group of three brothers sired by the Greek Titans. They were imprisoned in Tartarus twice by their parents; first by the original king of Titans because he thought that they were too ugly (and as Titan-spawn they couldn't be just killed), and once more by the next king of Titans because he was afraid of the brothers kicking his ass and taking his throne. This turned out to be a main factor to the downfall of the Titan race as a whole, since the Hecatonchires were proper pissed when Zeus broke them out and gleefully joined his rebellion. Some tellings of the war between gods and Titans claim that it was the Hecatonchires' involvement which ultimately tipped the scales in the god's favor, and afterwards the Hecatonchires volunteered to live at the entrance to Tartarus in order to keep the Titans inside just like Cerberus did with mortals.

So what makes the Hecatonchires brothers so strong that they could be the deciding factor in a pantheon war, and able to easily bully Titans for all of eternity? Sure, they're big and can't be completely killed, but so was mostly everyone else involved and it didn't really help them any. What was their ace in the hole?

You see, each Hecatonchires has a hundred arms and fifty heads. So if each hand holds a weapon, it is pretty much impossible to get your weapon past all the metal flailing around to cut, stab, or bludgeon them in melee combat.

It's actually kind of amusing to look back and really dwell on what past ages believed a true "ultimate weapon" to be. Hecatonchires were the Greek's idea of unbeatable warriors, made as OP as they could imagine in their wildest dreams… and they probably could have been trumped by a clever man with a shotgun.

>>14655

do tell, anon

A Gashadokuro is the largest, angriest skeleton.

Japanese in origin, they are created when an event such as a famine or war leaves huge amounts of people dead in a single place. The spirits of these people can get so riled up that they band together to combine all of their bones into one giant skeleton, then use their own souls as fuel to hold together, animate and empower their new channel for the colossal rage they wish to take out on the living.

Gashadokuro prowl around at night looking for victims to bite the heads off of, smash, twist, or otherwise entirely mangle. The only clue you would ever get that you're about to be murdered by a skyscraper-skeleton would be a brief sound of either chimes or rattling, as Gashadokuro possess magic that makes them invisible when not actively attacking and are unnaturally silent besides those two noises.

Gashadokuro cannot be killed, as they simply refuse to die or be defeated while they have any of their energy remaining. The only way to "best" a Gashadokuro would be to either escape it entirely, or keep it chasing you until it has burned through all of the souls it has and collapses back into a heap of normal bones.

I'm actually surprised that I had to go searching for info on this one, since it is clearly the most metal creature to ever be conceived. This thing is to spite what the classical European dragon is to greed. There's no point to a Gashadokuro besides being angry. The souls which comprise it are willingly destroying themselves in order to continue being angry. Gashadokuro only stop being angry after every single soul it has is utterly consumed by their own anger. So angry. So. Angry.

Aswang are a race of Filipino ghoul-witch-werewolf-vampire-boogeymen. Goddamn Phillipines.

Aswang function as normal people during the day, although their eyes tend to be bloodshot. This is because they spend every night hunting for food instead of sleeping. They love all kinds of human flesh, but favor some types over others. If there are no corpses being currently prepared for burial or put on display they'll usually have to settle for hobos or lone travelers, which they slay and devour. If for some reason they think that the disappearance of this person will raise suspicion they can craft a doppelganger out of the trunks of banana trees; which can either just pass as a corpse, or be supernaturally enchanted to move and act like the original victim. Of course, this replacement quickly "catches" a mysterious illness and "dies".

You can hear an Aswang stalking you. Technically. Aswang have a deliberately confusing hunting cry which is louder the further it is from you and quieter the closer it comes. All in all, it basically functions like the "tension" track in a horror movie.

Aswang are natural shapeshifters, and are known to take on all kinds of forms while hunting. The most well known modification they can undergo, however, is closely tied to their favorite delicacy. Aswang love the taste of unborn children, and can pick out the scent of a pregnant woman like ripened fruit. If they find a sleeping pregnant woman they will create a long proboscis, slowly insert it into the expectant mother, and suck up the baby from it's womb like a chunky milkshake.

But as horrifying as Aswang are, they actually aren't too big a deal for those around them. The daytime human form of an Aswang is as sociable and friendly as any other person, and the night-prowler version intentionally hunts very far away from it's neighborhood in order to not fuck over the community it's a part of. Because of this there is actually a saying which translates approximately into "Better an Aswang than a thief", used for about the same reasons we say stuff like "Don't shit where you eat".

Aswang are actually so good at passing for normal that it is entirely possible for a human to fall in love and even eventually marry one of them. In this scenario the human also becomes an Aswang… and nothing besides that really changes. They still participate in their community, they're still happily in love with each other, and the corpse-pillaging doesn't really get any worse either since hunting Aswang naturally spread split up so to not overtax any one location. The only notable difference is that Aswang couples pretty much never have kids. But all things considered, that's probably for the best.

The self-renewing supply of fetuses probably makes them more docile, too

The Tiyanak is a shapeshifter which lives in Philippine jungles. It's primary method of getting food is to assume the form of a baby and start crying near jungle footpaths; travelers would then walk off the path looking for the sound (at which point they are now magically enchanted to continue regardless of possible mind changing), pick up the "baby", and then be subsequently killed by the whirlwind of claws and teeth that they're now holding.

You are usually pretty firmly fucked as soon as you step off the beaten path with a Tiyanak, but there is one known way to "beat" the enchantment. If you turn your clothes inside-out before going to investigate, the Tiyanak will break the magical hold on you and let you go upon seeing your getup. This is not actually an anti-magic or anti-Tiyanak ritual in any manner. The Tiyanak just thinks it's funny enough that people even try that to spare the life of any idiot he sees doing it.

The Datsue-ba is a petty bitch.

Hailing from a variant of Buddhist folklore, these supernatural hags mainly prowl around the Sanzu River in the Buddhist version of the underworld. This river is one of the first things newly dead souls encounter, and one of their first tests as well. You have to cross the Sanzu River to reach the underworld proper, and where you get to cross depends on how good you were in life: Those found innocent get to use a guarded bridge, the slightly guilty wade through a fairly shallow-but-rapid section of the stream, and the heavily guilty have to deal with swimming through the deepest and most turbulent waters.

But there's a problem in this method of judgement: You are not considered innocent by default, so souls of children and babies who died too young to define themselves do not have access to any path. Confused on what to do, they wander about pitifully along the shore until they meet a Datsue-ba. The Datsue-ba, when asked, will tell them that they can get to where they need to be if they gather all the pebbles on the shore and pile them up as a mountain to reach the heavens. The Datsue-ba will then stick around to watch the child soul go to work, and once the pile is at maybe anthill-size she'll kick it apart like a bully smashing a sand castle. Then she steals the kid's clothes.

Datsue-ba also patrol the far side of the river, since adult souls who did not get to use the guarded bridge will be exhausted and unprotected upon arrival. The Datsue-ba take this opportunity to steal their clothes too.

Granted, not every person arrives in the underworld with clothes on. This is why, when they come across a naked soul, they consider taking its skin an acceptable compromise.

Fucking Datsue-ba. They'd probably take your lunch money as well if you had any.

The Domovoi just wants a big, happy family.

Domovoi (or "He From The House") are Russian spirits, and one supposedly resides in every Slav household. They resemble little hairy old men, and often bare striking similarities to either the current man of the house or one of his seniors. This is because Domovoi represent the spirits of all the forefathers for that family. It is also for this reason that it is totally okay with family members referring to it as "Grandpa" instead of it's actual name.

As can be expected from every father in your family tree put together, a household Domovoi is usually very good to have around. In times of peace it will help with chores, and hearing the Domovoi singing, dancing, or joking supposedly foretells good luck. But of course, this relies on Grandpa being in a good mood.

What would sour Gramp's disposition? Remember that he's all of your family's dads smashed together. And all of their dads. And so on.

-The Domovoi hates family squabbles

-The Domovoi hates homes left untidy for extended periods of time

-The Domovoi hates family members swearing

-The Domovoi hates spousal or family abuse

-The Domovoi hates being abandoned (You're supposed to invite him along if you switch houses)

-The Domovoi realizes that sometimes the family will go on trips without him, but will hate it if they leave on one without giving him any forewarning

If the Domovoi becomes upset enough, he may start to take it out on the house itself. Not bad enough to actually endanger family members, but petty vandalism on par with low-grade poltergeist shenanigans. And on the flip side of the good luck it brings when happy, hearing your Domovoi weep is a terrible omen. If things are allowed to spiral down to the absolute worst point, Grandpa will eventually be forced to take his most drastic action:

He'll pack up and leave.

…This doesn't seem like much at first glance, but think about it again. Every Russian family has the ever-growing support of every forefather they have ever had, channeled through this one creature. It leaving is essentially most of your family tree disowning you from beyond the grave and withdrawing all of their supernatural aid. Families fall apart, businesses close down, livestock and crops die en mass. All because little Vladmir just had to keep cursing out Gramps.

>>14108

So what happens if I kiss her?

I'm not entirely sure where to even start with El Sombrerón.

El Sombrerón, a Guatemalan boogeyman, is a tiny creepy old dude entirely dressed in black. The most distinctive parts of his outfit are his boots (which are said to be very noisy when he moves) and his absurdly huge wide-brimmed hat (not specifically labeled a sombrero, but come on now).

El Sombrerón rides into town with a cold breeze, bringing with him two large black dogs with chain leashes and a pack of mules lugging coal.

Left to his own devices, he braids hair. He's really, really into braiding hair. If you leave your horse unattended, you may come back to find that El Sombrerón has braided it's mane and tail. If there are no horses in the area he braids the fur of roaming dogs and cats. Not to make them look nice or anything, just to do it.

Trouble actually starts to brew if any girl catches his fancy; most likely one with beautiful, long hair. From that point on the subject of his love will not be able to sleep – as El Sombrerón will loudly serenade by her window every night – and will also begin to starve, as El Sombrerón will find a way to mix large amounts of dirt into any meal she is served.

The main way to get rid of this curse is to make El Sombrerón lose interest in the girl he's infatuated with, which is most easily achieved by cutting off her hair. With that change he will almost always fall out of love and leave the town of his own free will.

El Sombrerón is a very region-locked mythical being, but I get the feeling that he has been… re-appropriated in at least one well known piece of media. Such a naughty creature.

>>14181

>all the chores

>all the trading

>every bell you collected to get those renovations

>the upstairs, downstairs and even the picket fence are just Tom's wrinkly old sack

>>13886

What will she do if I ask her to be my gf

>>17650

>qt3.14 ghost walks up to you

>ask you if she's pretty

>remember being told about this kind of ghost

>sweating profusely, real nervous

>she looks straight in your eyes, hers are

>she smells really nice too, like burnt embers

>run away like a scared chihuahua

>never encounter it again and live forever in shame and regret

I would like to interrupt my usual chain of lesser-known creatures with bizarre features to instead focus on one extremely well known creature with an extremely overlooked but interesting feature.

More specifically, Satan.

More specifically, Satan's cock.

Did you know it's "canon" that Satan - Lord of Darkness, First of the Fallen, The Great Beast - has a cold dick? Like, icicle-level cold. Also, when he 'releases' his payload is a winter wonderland all across your insides.

These details were "discovered" during the eras of widespread witch-hunts; wherein witches in many different locales and timeframes independently attested to having sex with Satan as part of their dealings with him and outlined these specific unusual qualities of his frozen phallus. Verified by numerous sources in this manner, the attributes of Lucifer's Log became another amusing footnote to Christian mythology no one bothers to tell you about. Just like how prophets could summon angry bears at will, or that one time Jesus found and tamed a dragon.

But how the hell did this happen? Was there any non-supernatural explanation to how so many people could independently reach the same conclusions about Asmodeus' Ass-Blaster?

Some people have actually come up with a fairly plausibly hypothesis. Consider the following:

In most famous historical accounts of witches meeting to make pacts with The Dark One, Satan appears in the flesh and fucks the daylights out of everyone present as part of the ritual. If you were to suppose that this was not the actual Fallen One, then it would have to be some dude mocked up to be Satan as a stand-in. And if he was just a mortal man, then his own personal stamina was going to give out pretty early on in the night.

But Satan does not get whiskey dick. Satan is ready to go whenever, wherever, forever. So what's the solution?

A prosthetic.

With the aid of a medieval strap-on, a pseudo-Satan could go on as long as he wanted. Maybe even give it an internal hose system for authentic finishes, too! The only issue being that none of these artificial versions would have any body warmth – and in fact would be pretty chilly if stuff like metals were used in their construction – but hey that could just be a weird quirk demons have.

That by itself could explain one instance of this phenomenon, but could it explain all of them? Not alone. But that's what Inquisitors were for.

Inquisitors were the people who… questioned witches for information and logged everything they learned, in order to combat the menace better in the future. They were all about grilling heretics for juicy tidbits and spreading them among their peers to find further leads on. And it turns out that the concept of getting penetrated by a purgatorial pecker being notably unpleasant was… comforting. It certainly was better than another theory floating around at the time, being that Satan was an absolute beast in the sack and that if you wanted some of that you better convert right away.

This supposedly created a somewhat fascinating feedback loop often found in results of "forced interrogation", where the torturer eventually receives a verification to every accusation slung at the target simply because they've been put through too much to protest any more. And, since Inquisitors had spread the idea amongst themselves after the first account, every one of them were asking witches how icy Beelzebub's Meat Bulb was. Of course, the answer was as cold as it took to get the "questioner" to stop "questioning" them.

So there you have it. You now are fully aware that Satan's penis by itself is a worthy subject for papers concerning both mythology and sociology. You're welcome.

so, in america we have several legends. Most of them are native american, like the wendigo, or have native american roots but are essentially just european legends, like the rougarus and all that. This thing however, is one thats purely american, coming straight from its midwest. Loggers and their family tell the story of the Hidebehind, a creature that basically looks like the lovechild of bigfoot, a wendigo, and a werewolf.

The hidebehind does exactly what the name implies. it hides behind trees and jumps out on people to eat them. It usually does this after it drags them to its cave, but sometimes it eats them on the spot if nobody else is around. They can only be repelled by alcohol, which they absolutely hate.

Excellent thread, OP!

If one thinks about it, Santa Claus is a very quirky monster. He crawls through chimneys, trades presents for cookies and milk (his only food source apparently), leaves behind coal for bad children, and rides a flying sled of reindeer. That's about as wacky as any three critters in this thread combined.

Okay, back to our world tour. Let's talk about the Kappa. These small monsters look somewhat like frogs who walk on their hind legs and have bowls attached to the tops of their heads.

A quote from the article, Yokai of Japan by Shawn Merrow:

>Vulnerabilities: The greatest weakness a Kappa has is the water in the basin on its head.

If one can cause it to be emptied – by tricking it into bowing for example – the Kappa

will loose most of its strength and have to return to the water. Its main goal will be

to get to water and will only fight to achieve that goal.

They also have a great fondness for cucumbers. An offering of a cucumber with a

person's name written on it will keep that Kappa from harming that person. Cucumbers

also be used to distract one long enough to make an escape.

>>18432

Nekomatas are also strange. You may have seen this term used as a synonym for "sexy catgirl" but it actually refers to a supernatural cat monster. Any cat who lives for 13 years or longer may turn into a nekomata. These critters are shapechangers, can enter dreams, create light, and reanimate dead.

Again, I'll quote from "The Yokai of Japan":

> It has a strong desire to drink lamp oil (a fish-based oil which was often

used in the past).

Let's continue our world tour with a visit to the Baltics where we will hear about the Lithuanian mythology of the Laumės (plural of Lauma). The wood carving on the far left represents a Lauma, and it is literally the only picture I found of one on the web.

A quote from Wikipedia:

'Laumės are the very oldest goddesses of Lithuanian mythology. The image of these goddesses may have formed during the historical Mesolithic period, just after the Ice Age. Laumės could appear in the form of animals, as mares or as female goats, bears and dogs. Later, Laumės had an anthropomorphic appearance: they usually had birds’ claws for feet and appeared as women with the head or lower body of a female goat. Other forms included half-human/half dog or half mare, similar to centaurs. Like cyclops, Laumės often had only one eye. They also had large breasts with stone nipples; pieces of belemnitida found on ground were called "Laumės nipples." '

'Later on, Laumės were depicted as very beautiful women, who appeared both naked or wearing a very fine clothing. The Rainbow was often called a ribbon lost by Laumės. What's how they were associated with weaving. Laumės usually appeared in groups of three. They were able to do women’s work perfectly, as are especially skilled in weaving and spinning. They love children, respect industriousness and help those in need. They punish those who ridicule them, and those who are lazy.'

Okay, so here we have some rain goddesses with an inconsistent visual representation. Other than a general obscurity and the part about the stone nipples, why are they in this thread? It has to do with the way in which they kill mortals. Although the Laumės were generally helpful to mortals, they could do some underhanded shit from time to time, and they were particularly dangerous to males whom they tickled to death. You read that correctly. They tickled men until those men died, and then they ate their corpses.

Fascinating thread

Thanks OP and other posters

>>13886

>They tickled men until those men died

>>18819

I was thinking the same thing. Japanese has three written languages: Hiragana, Katana, and Kanji. The idea of a capital K doesn't work in any of the three.

Pic not related, because I am running low on cryptids with personality quirks. Keep it going, /x/!

>>14077

I found an illustration for you, Anon.

art credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Endless-Realms-bestiary-Nakaq-548634868

The Baba Yaga is… really hard to pin down, actually.

Hailing from Slavic folklore, the Baba Yaga is a supernatural creature resembling an ugly, bony old woman who seemed dead-set on marching to the beat of her own drum from the word "go". The first recorded instance of her being referenced was offhandedly in a Slav grammar book, and her second known appearance was in an ancient list of Slav gods and their Roman equivalents. In said list the Baba Yaga was in her own category, as she had no counterpart to list.

Her legacy only got more bizarre from there.

The Baba Yaga lives out in the woods, in a hut that is decorated with skulls and walks around on command via either many tiny chicken legs or one giant one. Thus unwary travelers can be literally stumbled upon by Baba's hut, and if Baba doesn't like you terribly much the house may simply turn away from you to deny you access to the door. Inside the house she's usually found stretched out on her stove, apparently enjoying the warmth. When she leaves her hut to go on errands she usually does it by using a mortar and pestle in ways similar to you would expect witches and wizards to use brooms and wands.

What does the Baba Yaga do? Whatever the fuck she wants to.

There is a reason she has enough skulls to essentially use them as shingles; the Baba Yaga is a temperamental as she is powerful, and those who raise her ire are often cooked in her furnace and eaten. She does not specifically go out to find people to eat, though. Every victim is one who, at the very least, walked up and knocked on her door of their own accord.

Some of these people were just lost, stupid, or both, but many specifically seek out the Baba Yaga. This is because the bony crone is not inherently evil – just cranky and a bit of an asshole – and meeting her can just as likely be a great boon if you manage to rub her the right way.

In fact, there are actually not very many tales about the Baba Yaga by herself. Mostly she's merely a guest character in someone else's story, someone who gets dragged in when needed and leaves at the first opportunity. Sometimes she fills the role of a standard fairytale witch, providing an element of danger in tales about lost children and the like. Other times she is petitioned for help or divinations by characters at the end of their rope, who have no one else to turn to and are forced to risk it all for one last chance. And in some stories – such as the one where a child leaves her house because of her shitty step-family, encounters the Baba Yaga, is forced to do chores for her, and once they are done satisfactorily is gifted a skull on a stick which shoots vengeance lasers that incinerate her shitty step-family – she's everything at the same time.

She isn't good. She isn't evil. She isn't neutral. She seems to mostly just be that one great-grandparent in your family who doesn't give a single shit about anything anymore taken as far as it could ever possibly could.

>>18686

Tickling to death is a weird thing that crops up in mythology for some reason. IIRC, Rusalka and their regional variants would also tickle their victims to death.

>>18725

You here from /tk/ too?

This should become a general or something.

So fucking good!

>>14077

this kinda reminds me of an X-files episode

The Tigers of the Annam:

According to the myths of the Annamites (currently known as Vietnamese), there are four powerful spirits that rule the four cardinal points, they took the guise of four tigers:

The Red Tiger rules the South, his season is the Summer and his element is fire.

The Black Tiger rules the North, his season is the Winter and his element is water.

The Blue Tiger rules the East, his season is Spring, his element earth.

The White Tiger rules the West, his season is Autumn and his element metal.

But there's another spirit, a Yellow Tiger, who is their overlord, presides over the center of the World. that is, the center of China (That's why the Emperor is often called the Yellow Emperor, the ruler and pillar of the world).

Lao Tse (now called Laotzi), said the main task of this Tigers is to fight against the demons that hurt the Emperor, therefore damaging China, since the fate of the country was inextricably tied with that of the Celestial Son.

An Annamite prayer, recorded by the Sino-French erudite Louis Cho Chod (now written Zhoxo), implores the Tigers to assist them with countless hosts of tiger archers, tiger soldiers, tiger generals. This image was directly inspired by a primitive Chinese belief in a white tiger defending the mysterious Western lands, a red bird the South, the Orient by a limitless blue dragon, and the North by a gigantic black turtle. The Annamites unified the animals and kept the colors.

As a footnote on curious beliefs about tigers, the Bhils, who live in the most secluded heart of the Hindustan, believe in Hells for tigers, just like there are thousands of Hells waiting for humans, The Malays believe in a city hidden in the innermost part of the jungle, where tigers live in houses made with human bones as crossbeams, walls made out of human skin and eaves made with human scalps.

The Hundred Headed Fish:

One of the earliest biographies of the Buddhas in Chinese language was Most Veritable Account of the Luminous and Exemplary Life of the Most Exalted Fo (Chinese for Buddha), written at the end of the 6th Century A.D.

This works is more of a colorful collections of stories and fables with a moralizing intention than a serious biographical exercise.

There, it is narrated how the Buddha was strolling along a river one pleasant afternoon, when a group of fishermen nearby, they were on a fierce struggle to lift their net from the waters.

After almost an hour of tugging it, they could brought the net. Inside they found only one gigantic fish, with exactly one hundred heads from different animals, a monkey head, a dog head, an ox head, a cat head, a lion head, a pig head, even a fish one!

The monster was taken to the shore. The Buddha, seeing it, approached the fishermen.

"Are you Kapila?" Ask the Enlightened one to the fish.

"Yes, I am Kapila", answered the monster with each one of its head.

Then, it began to cry and immediately after, it died.

The Buddha explained to the people present, that Kapila was one of the most wisest and profound scholars of the Sacred Texts. But he lacked patience.

When he was hearing his students repeating the holy sutras, if they committed a mistake, he would struck them in the head with a cane, calling them "monkey head, dog head, pig head" and so forth. The accumulated karma of these actions made Kapila reincarnate in a monstrous fish with the heads of those animals he used as insults.

The Borametz:

In his Pseudodoxia Epidemica (1646), Sir Thomas Browne describes the Borametz; also known as: the Vegetable Lamb of Tartary, polypodium borametz or Chinese Polypodium.

It is a plant, which takes the shape of a lamb, five deep and strong roots fix it to the ground. Covered by a golden fuzz at the edges. It is a parasitic one, sucking the life of the plants and flowers, which die while the Borametz thrives. If it is cut, a bloody sap gushes out. The wolves of the steppes love to devour the plant, some say because of its lamb appearance, others because of the vegetable blood. Browne ends noting that in many bestiaries, the human element combines with the animal, with the Borametz, flora fuses with fauna.

There are others instances where plants mix with the flesh. The mandrake plant, which adopts a human form after being fed with blood, the forest of the suicides in Vth or VIth Canto in the Divine Commedy, or that tree dreamed by Chesterton, who envied the birds, and when they posed on its branches, the tree devoured them, and in Springtime, blue feathers blossomed on it.

>>22671

I like this one. There's similar creatures with different names elsewhere.

"The bishop-fish is a European sea-monster. It has the shaved head of a Catholic monk and the body of a huge fish. Its existence has been documented as early as the thirteenth century when one was caught swimming in the Baltic Sea. It was then taken to the King of Poland, who wished to keep it. It was also shown to some Catholic bishops, to whom the bishop-fish gestured, appealing to be released. They granted its wish, at which point it made the sign of the cross and disappeared into the sea. Another was captured in the ocean near Germany in 1531. It refused to eat and died after three days."

"The shy Selkies are marine creatures in the shape of a seal. They can be found near the islands of Orkney and Shetland. A female can shed her skin and come ashore as a beautiful woman. When a man finds the skin, he can force the Selkie to be a good, if somewhat sad, wife. Should she ever recover the skin, she will immediately return to sea, leaving her husband behind. The male Selkies are responsible for storms and also for the sinking of ships, which is their way of avenging the hunting of seals."

>tfw I can't find a qt seal wif

Why live

>>20004

Baba is the queen of squatting on stoves.

>>15617

>Evil baby with fangs

>>15210

>If they find a sleeping pregnant woman they will create a long proboscis, slowly insert it into the expectant mother, and suck up the baby from it's womb like a chunky milkshake.

Boner, why?

>>14341

Haitians are not Jamaicans, my friend.

SKIN WALKERS

>>14269

Shit, this guy suddenly makes a lot more sense.

>>16440

I am the Domovoi, I speak for the house