Mothman Stories Novels & Stories

+++++++++ STORY 1: The Child The place that my ex-husband and I lived (we have already been separated for almost a decade) at the time when I was pregnant with Rica was somewhere hidden but had plenty of well-known stories about aswang, tiktik, and manananggal. There were many of them seen in that particular town and a lot of people have become victims of these folklore carnivores. One of those cases has even been broadcasted on a local news show- one 5-6-year-old child was slaughtered right inside his own room… The nanny let in a stranger who was asking for water, and she and her charge were the only ones at home at the time. She invited him in and while she was getting the glass of water f

“I found that by the doorway the next morning. It belonged to one of them.” Jasmyne picked up the claw and held it toward the ceiling light. It was as long as her finger and extremely sharp. “Aurora, this could have belonged to any predator on the plain. A wild cat, a juvenile bear, anything...” “No Jasmyne, you’re wrong. I also have research. Reports of people seeing strange creatures, and news stories of mass killings just like what happened in our village. They were in other countries, but - “Aurora, people claim to see things like UFOs and Bigfoot all the time, but you and I both know that’s not true. And of course, there are killings on the news. Humanity has lost its mind. That doesn’t

She looked at me, “Then, hurry up and call the man. Let’s get this show on the road.” “The two of you are incorrigible,” I muttered as I dialed Max’s number. He wasn’t happy to hear that Megan knew about our little problem and said he’d be over after he finished something up at the office. I used the time I had before Max arrived to grill Peter with questions. I wanted to know what he’d learned about voo doo and zombies. It turned out that he knew quite a bit. To my surprise, so did Megan. Of course, she didn’t call it voo doo. She called it mountain magic, but it was basically the same thing. A wicked magic person would cast a spell to cause people to become zombies. Be it in the wild

The native women of Saint Maria were lost to the wolf-people clan. The wolf people hid in the forest and collected the cubs of man. To them, our children were cubs. To us, the wolf people were monsters. Monsters who didn't exist. They were a myth and their people were no more. They left in this world never to return. Or at least that's what they all wanted us to believe. I never believed my grandmother when she told me they weren't real.

We needed the intel anyway. “So, how’d everything go?” Nathan asked, casually raising the bet. I tossed in my chips. Tomas folded with a scowl. “Man, it was a fucking shit show. The Riding Hoods rustled up some asanbosam—closest thing to real-life vampires you’ll ever see. Picture a bare-ass monkey with huge claws and bigger teeth. They turned them loose on an entire village. Killed everyone—men, women, kids. Even the pets. Drained fucking dry.”

The old man simply laughed at him, "I always hunt in this forest, and the only monsters I see are wolves and huge boars. You must have seen one if you ventured out at night and your mind simply played tricks on you." "No! I know what I saw. They had bloodthirsty eyes and fangs like a beast. One tried to kill me." The man took a step back and figured that the young man wasn’t well in the head. Van shook his head, "You don’t believe me, but I’m telling the truth. There’s a monster in there. I saw it killing a woman. There’s a dead body there for sure." He is sure that what he remembers wasn’t part of his wild imagination. It was way too vivid to be an imagination.

“The bodies… they weren’t just torn apart. They were… mutilated. Like something was sending a message.” A cold chill ran down my spine. “And you think a monster did this?” “It’s not just us,” another man said. “There’ve been stories about these woods for years. People disappearing, strange noises at night. Most of us thought they were just old pack tales, but now…” “Now you’re not so sure,” I finished for him. He nodded grimly. By the time I returned to my room that night, my head was spinning with questions. If the stories about the woods were true, then this wasn’t just a rogue wolf or even a vengeful pack member. This was something much older, much darker.

“Do you think it’s haunted?” My breath sticks in my chest at her words. Before I can say anything, Jack laughs. “Don’t be stupid. Of course it isn’t haunted.” “Some people think it is,” I counter. “There have always been stories about this place, about the swamp.” The woman pauses as an uneasy shadow flickers across her delicate features. “What kind of stories?” she presses. Jack once again cuts me off. “Who gives a shit?” he chuckles. “Ghosts, witches, werewolves–that’s all kid stuff. The only thing we should be afraid of is the IRS.”

They would rather stay away from humans. "Dogman? Should we be afraid of it? Is it like the things we see on the internet? Do you think they exist? Are they like werewolves?" The woman asks. She grabs the man's hand, and he holds her. I did not mean to scare these poor folks. They all start closer to each other and start looking into the dark woods as if they are afraid.

the old man continued, eyes gleaming, “but a creature—ancient and starved—that disguises itself in bark and moss. It waits. Hungers. And when the moon is thin, it feeds.” He ended the story with a dramatic swish of his cloak and sat back down as the fire popped and sparked. Ryan leaned toward me, smirking. “Ten gold coins says that story’s based on a real thing.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re probably right.” After some time, I stood. “I need to… step away for a minute.” Ryan nodded. “Don’t get eaten by any whispering trees.” “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I slipped away from the firelight.